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stxrvel · 1 year

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isn't it strange? (4)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: when you thought you were having the time of your life, an unknown man appeared in you life to shake everything you know to the ground.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: i don't know 😭

warnings: just curse words, and drama.

note: so it's finally here, and i can't believe it. i don't know if i'm proud of it, or if i'm feeling meh about it. i have mixed feelings. but what is actually important is that i managed to make it out alive and you guys have what you've been waiting for (hope so). also, i edited this in a rush in class, so sorry for any mistake. anyway, wish you all like this one, don't forget feedback is appreciated!! and let me know what you think about this part! 💜💜

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You kept your gaze on Bucky as Clint's eyes scanned your face. Your husband was standing in front of Dr. Cho with Tony Stark at his side, impassive. Interesting things they were talking about, so that not even the wind or your furtive glances could cause the black-haired man to avert his gaze. Surely it was something to do with you, with your state of health and such things, maybe. You had stopped paying attention a few days ago, even though it had barely been a week since you had woken up without remembering anything.

And you still couldn't do it, remember, though… You had never felt so good. Well, you couldn't know if you'd ever felt this way either. You probably had, but at that moment it was an unmatched feeling. To know everything that had happened and yet your body, your spirit and your whole being continued to fight to stay in this world. You didn't know what things delved deep into your mind, where not even your thoughts reached, where the true unconscious lay. Neither you nor the medicine knew. Whatever was going on, it was still a mystery.

And yet, even though all the circumstances had been surrounded by the suffering of others and hopeless tears, what you were trying to do since you were fully aware of the situation was to be extremely positive and to always be grateful. Ultimately, too many bad things had happened for you to get to that moment, but you couldn't just sit around mourning for a heart that would no longer return. Tears and screaming wouldn't bring you back to the past, no one could bring things back to the way they were, so why spend time on it? Instead, you could meet everything for the first time once again and create new memories with each of the exceptional people who surrounded you.

“What are you thinking about?” the voice of Clint echoed in the back of your head.

Bucky. Bucky was still with his serious face in front of Dr. Cho. You didn't know if his lack of expression was good or bad. Even in Tony's face you couldn't find any emotion.

“What I'd like to go into town on,” you replied crossing your arms without averting your gaze. “Maybe shopping or something.”

“Wouldn't you just like to go for a walk?”

You hummed thoughtfully, your mind split in two trying to continue the conversation with your partner normally while remaining fully focused on your husband.

“Maybe, but I like the idea of bringing things back that will allow me to remember the places I've been better.”

“Ah,” Clint nodded, you saw him out of the corner of your eye move his head to where you were looking. “You want to buy souvenirs.”

You nodded silently.

“When I walk into my room in this Complex it's too empty. I don't know if it was like this forever, but being in there makes me feel so lonely.”

“I think Bucky packed a lot of your things after the accident, when you wouldn't wake up. Even later he told you where they were stored in case you wanted to unpack them, but I don't think you ever did.”

“Yes, he told me something similar. But I don't want the old stuff, I want something new. I want different things. I don't want to think about who I was and the things I had because I'm never going to be able to remember what they meant to me. I have no choice but to tie new emotions to other memories.”

Clint didn't respond, but you felt his gaze on yours as the three people in front of you began to approach at a slow pace, with more words coming out of Dr. Cho's mouth. You were gnawing deep inside curious as to how much of what they were talking about because, even though it had to be, you didn't want to confirm that it was about you. And you doubted it because when the doctor gave you the progress of your studies she didn't take more than twenty seconds talking, but she always seemed to have more to tell the others.

Maybe it was just as well.

When Bucky finally looked at you, his eyes sparkled. Standing closer to your position, you could tell that his expression softened and there was no trace of any discomfort. Tony, next to him, couldn't relax as much as he would've liked.

The conversation died as soon as they reached your auditory space, as it did every time. Dr. Cho gave you a tight-lipped smile and bowed slightly before heading for the entrance to the Complex.

“Ah, my two favorite quacks,” Tony greeted, his jocular expression coming back to life as if it had been plucked from ice water.

“Stark,” Clint barely murmured.

You resigned yourself to silence, not looking away from the man's eyes that saw deep inside you. Somewhere, deep, deep, deep down in your soul, you felt something stir.

“Is Carol back yet?” Tony inquired into the air, surely to Clint who might be the only one too focused to answer him.

“Supposed to be,” the blond nodded, his head moving to watch the sky. “She gave notice at headquarters a little while ago that she was on her way.”

“With good news?”

Clint cocked his head to one side, silence taking hold for a few seconds.

“Something like that.”

“Well, I'll go find out,” Tony shook his shoulders, and as if on cue, Clint stretched out on the beach chair before rising. “You coming, Barnes?”

“No.”

When Clint moved far enough away, Bucky plopped down in the chair the blond had been occupying, just inches away from yours. In the middle of the green field outside the Complex, Tony barely sighed.

“Okay, I'll see you guys later.”

And without further ado, the pair departed in the direction of the interior of the facility.

“What were you guys talking about with Dr. Cho?” you couldn't help but ask.

Your gaze focused on Bucky's face, something you could almost never avoid. Automatically, wherever you were, your eyes always found the melodious face of the man who had married you. It was intriguing to acknowledge that you had no memory of him, but your body leaned toward him and your muscles demanded to be near him as if they could remember what your mind couldn't.

Surely it was so.

“Tony wanted to make sure we had the medical supplies we needed for any emergency.”

“It was too long a conversation for you to talk about just that.”

“We need many, many, supplements.”

You hummed a nod, unconvinced.

“What were you and Clint talking about?” the man took the direction of the conversation and turned to look at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, if you only knew,” you made an exaggerated version of the you-won't-believe-it expression as you spun around on the chair to face him. “Clint is a professional talker. He told me so much about his life that I could pass a best friend test right about now. I feel like I know his family personally because of so many things he told me.”

The man next to you let out a short laugh, causing you to slam your mouth shut. You watched his shoulders shift slightly, his body sinking into the gray cushions of the chair, his shoulders slack and his expression much calmer than before. You had spent almost every day since you woke up trying to wrest that expression and that sound from Bucky. Every moment of the day he looked so stressed and overwhelmed and so unwilling to hold on to life that you felt it was the least you could do. Besides, you also liked doing it… and listening to him.

You didn't know if it was because it was really that easy or just because it was you and you were a natural, but you found it very easy to cheer up his face with a comment or two. To be honest, you had never seen the others in the group make him laugh so you guessed it was more the latter.

“There was no need to drown me in sarcasm.”

“And you didn't have to lie to me.”

Bucky screwed up his face at incalculable speed.

“I didn't lie to you.”

“You weren't talking about medical supplements with Cho.”

Suddenly, a dejected expression graced Bucky's face. You were about to pull back and make some joke about anything when he finally spoke first:

“No, we didn't talk about supplements.”

You kept silent, staring at his tense figure on the chair.

“She was telling us that your studies today revealed nothing different from yesterday, so there is still no explanation as to why you lost all your memories, again.”

Bucky turned his head to look at you again, his eyes drooping and the shadows under them much more visible than before. His grim look sent shivers down your spine. You promptly decided you didn't like it.

“I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It's supposed to be my marital duty to take care of you and I can't find the reason why all this happened.”

“Bucky, it's not your fault.”

“Sometimes I can't help but feel like it is.”

Your heart howled in pain. You felt an itch mixed with burning become camp all over your chest, and the right words battled inside your head to get out of your mouth. Seeing Bucky like that was infuriating, because you couldn't help him, and you were well aware of it. Only once before, these days, had you heard him mention anything about it and it wasn't welcome. You hated seeing him like this but you hated more that you couldn't do much to change it.

“I'm fine right now, aren't I?” you tilted your head to look into his sparkling eyes.

He barely nodded, shaking his head imperceptibly, that had you been distracted you would have missed it.

“Then don't worry too much.”

Bucky didn't respond, but his gaze wandered over your face for several more seconds as time raced around you two. With the nicest weather you've had the last few days, you stayed with Bucky most of the afternoon in those chairs outside the Complex. No one showed up to call you.

-----

You were walking through the corridors of the Complex with Natasha when something strange happened.

It was a long walk to the other end of the building, passing through a countless amount of glass instead of walls. Tony must've been a lover of natural light.

Bucky had just said goodbye to you, and on your way into the Complex you ran into Natasha. You hadn't talked much to Bucky after you mentioned the exams, you had only told him that you wanted to go shopping one day, and he assured you that one of those days he would accompany you. You remained silent and thoughtful after that.

You wanted to spend more time finding out if what he had told you was the only thing bothering him inside his head or if there was something else… but then you found Natasha and decided it would be good to keep your mind off it for a while.

“So you guys only do that?”

Natasha nodded. She walked with her hands clasped behind her back, her back straight and her steps graceful. You'd expect nothing less from SHIELD's top agent. She had her red hair pulled back in a perfect braid, which you almost doubted she could have done herself when you couldn't even get one on one side. She seemed serene and calm walking beside you, despite having risked her life only a few hours before you met her. You didn't know if you could ever act so impassive after coming close to dying.

“Is that too little for you?”

“No!” you exclaimed quickly, fearful that you had offended her. “I was just saying that because I didn't think looking for documents could be so dangerous.”

“We're in a field where almost half the world hates us, and at least a quarter of those people can counter our power. Those people take advantage of any moment of weakness to strike.”

“But you're always prepared, aren't you?”

Natasha sighed, “Yes, we try.”

The eternal corridor was coming to an end. At the bottom you watched some people walking in their direction, and thought of the endless path that awaited them to the other end of the building.

“What about Carol? I heard she came back from a mission.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows and moved her head to look ahead. Her posture didn't alter, but she did take a few seconds to respond.

“Carol does recon missions too, only hers are more specific because she can do certain things we can't.”

“It must be great, don't you think?”

You turned to look at the redhead who was frowning.

“I don't mean missions, I mean having powers, can you imagine being able to fly? That must be amazing.”

“Yes, surely. Sadly those abilities are what also get us into trouble.”

You deflated your smile. Of course, you had left that part out. How many people because they wanted to do evil, surely tried to hurt them to keep them from getting in the way of their plans. Or they were trying to do worse things you didn't even want to name. People with macabre motivations, with the desires of the pit of evil. People who had no sense of morality and empathy.

Sure flying had its advantages, but it brought with it something of a curse.

You no longer knew if it would be so great to fly knowing you had arrows pointed at you.

“Don't be discouraged,” Natasha spoke again. “We've been fine so far. We're taking care of each other.”

You didn't know if Natasha had mumbled or if you had been so deep in thought that you heard her words as if you were underwater.

But suddenly, a huge smile planted itself on your face.

“A puppy!” you exclaimed in pure happiness.

The surroundings blurred in your mind as you watched that golden ball of fur run towards you as you knelt down to receive it in your arms. The puppy stirred in your lap for several seconds that seemed like a utopian eternity, until you heard a whistle and the puppy got up and ran after you.

You felt ecstatic. In the position you were in, you had never seen a dog in person, except for some images you saw on the internet. To have touched their amazingly silky soft golden hairs, felt the licks around your arms and had their weight on your legs seemed almost unreal; like a dream.

“Natasha,” you began, still distractedly watching the hallway you had just walked down and just where the little dog was running after several people, “that's the most beautiful little thing I've-”

As you turned your head, you felt like you had hit a concrete wall.

You automatically collided your gaze with that of an unfamiliar man. You wanted to turn around to tell Natasha that you had never seen anything more beautiful and that you were going to tell Bucky to get you one, but you couldn't move your head. It was like a magnet forcing you to keep your gaze on that man's, but there was nothing but the movements of your unconscious.

He was an older man with light eyes. His dark brown hair was neatly combed to the right and barely a few gray hairs stuck out on the sides. His expression was stoic, he seemed to have been polished that way since birth and he didn't alter it as he walked in the opposite direction from you. You barely noticed a few blue and red flashes from his clothes, because you couldn't take your eyes off his eyes. You were drawn to them in a… strange way.

And suddenly, rising in your chest, you felt anger. You didn't know if it was directed at the man or at the fact that you couldn't separate your gaze from his. You felt your brow furrow as time ran slower and slower. The man mimicked your expression, as if like you he felt under some kind of spell.

You followed his gaze as he walked, your body jerking in anger that moved to your temples. A headache was beginning to form.

You felt the hand of who must have been Natasha on one of your arms, but you were still watching the man. He was moving further away but you had to turn your body so as not to break the visual connection.

Until the man finally turned his head.

It was like your head was being pulled out of the water.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Then you realized Natasha was shaking you. But you couldn't process too much when you barely noticed Tony, who was walking beside the man, give you a look over his shoulder with a contracted expression. Would he have felt the same?

You barely had a few seconds to think when it started.

A flash of white and you felt out of this world.

A quick image flashed through your mind.

Destruction, debris, darkness… and the man in the middle of it all staring at you in dismay. Lines of green energy coiled around his wrists that seemed to come from the strange necklace hanging from his neck.

You wanted to move and ask, to speak, to do something, but you couldn't even feel your body. You could only watch.

And then, other figures appeared next to him. Tony and Natasha. The unknown man was shaking his head, talking rapidly, but you couldn't hear him. He seemed to dedicate those angry words to someone behind you. Natasha seemed to want to approach the unknown man, but Tony was raising the blasters of his suit in her direction, in a threat.

You tried to absorb more of those vestiges as you felt it slipping from your mind.

Then, your view returned to the eternal hallway and a disgruntled Natasha holding you in her arms.

“Y/N?” was the first thing you heard come from his lips.

“Who was that man?”

You tried to get up, not knowing at what point you had fallen to the ground, despite Natasha trying to keep you lying down.

“Who?”

“The one in the red cloak,” you mumbled, anger still boiling inside you.

“He was… Stephen Strange.”

“He's not part of The Avengers,” it wasn't a question.

“No,” Natasha spoke softly, looking disgruntled at the tone of voice you were managing. “He's a sorcerer.”

Sorcerer, that made sense if he had been to blame for what had just happened. Because if it hadn't been him, then what the fuck had happened?

“And what's he doing here if he's not part of the group?”

“He's a friend of Tony's.”

Tony.

Tony and Natasha had been in that image too. An image the sorcerer had planted in your head… or a memory.

Was that a memory?

No, it couldn't be. That would imply that at some point… you were on a mission with the rest of the group. And that could only have happened if…

“Y/N?” Natasha spoke cautiously, barely raising a hand in your direction.

You watched her. Then your gaze drifted a little, behind her, where you could still see the bodies of the people who had passed you.

You didn't even think about it.

“Y/N!” Natasha exclaimed as you passed her, and tried to grab your arm but you shook it roughly.

Your footsteps echoed loudly through the hallway and their sound combined with Natasha's voice. From a distance, you could almost swear you saw Tony stagger as everyone continued walking as if nothing had happened. As if you hadn't just been through something. As if they really weren't aware of what had happened. As if that man in the red cape, Stephen Strange, didn't know what he had just done.

“Strange,” you exclaimed along the corridor, burning the man's head with your gaze.

No one stopped.

“Strange!”

You moved your feet much faster, feeling the opportunity slipping away from you. The men didn't slow or quicken their pace. They walked as if they had all the time in the world. As if they couldn't hear you.

“Tony,” you tried the mechanic and… Nothing.

Nothing. You got no response except a slight shake of the shoulders.

Then you started running. You weren't going to let them just disappear.

You heard Natasha's footsteps behind yours as she had tired of calling out to you without managing to stop you.

With every second you were getting closer, closer and closer to catching up with the two men who kept walking without flinching. And when you were just short of reaching the red cape, the world changed.

It was like passing through a door into another dimension. It was a dark place, similar to the one you had seen before. But everything was even more muted. What you had seen before looked like the height of the fight, the climax of whatever was happening. What you saw now looked like the after. What had happened after the great explosion of chaos.

There was barely a slight breeze guiding you to an indeterminate place, where you knew there should have been buildings and roads, but there was nothing but rubble. There was ash falling from the sky, as if it were the kind of snow that falls in the underworld. Maybe you were there, in hell. There was no other explanation for what you were seeing.

Until you saw a familiar red hair. Natasha was leaning against a rock, or a large piece of rubble, looking lost and unsettled. You had never seen such a puzzled expression on her before.

“Natasha?” you were surprised when you heard your voice. But the woman in front of you didn't move.

“What did we do?” you heard her mutter to herself, brow furrowed and eyes glistening in held back tears.

In the distance you heard some clanging sounds, like metal clashing harshly as it hit the ground. It sounded like someone was throwing things in the air.

“Will you stop it already?” you heard an angry female voice.

It didn't take you long to run into the figure of Carol Danvers.

“What the fuck do you think you're going to solve by destroying things?”

“I could've solved everything if you'd let me, goddamn it!”

“We wouldn't have done anything, Stark.”

You watched Carol's body move to your left, and turned to see the mechanic with half a suit destroyed and blood all over his face. You took an exhale of surprise, bringing your hands to your mouth.

“If you had let Strange-”

“No,” it was Natasha who interrupted, “It was too risky.”

“He would never have noticed!”

“Yes he would have noticed!” Natasha retorted, raising her voice. “And we'd surely all be dead.”

“There's no way you can know that would have been the case.”

“Just like there's no way you could have known that was going to work,” Carol stepped between Tony and Natasha, and the alluded to only took long strides away.

You watched as Natasha and Carol shared a forlorn look. You had seen that expression on Tony's face many times before when he was lost in thought. Was this the reason?

“… be all right?” Natasha's voice came to you again.

Carol didn't respond. She only watched her, helpless, tired….

And the image disappeared.

In the middle of nowhere, in the infinite darkness, you wondered what the fuck everything you had seen was about. You wondered if they were your memories or someone else's memories. You wondered if even all that had really happened or if it was a lie.

You see…

You heard a voice in the middle of nowhere.

You can't even trust your own friends….

Who's speaking?

I am the voice of your conscience… The voice of your reason… There's nothing closer to the truth than me…

What the fuck is going on?

Why don't you see for yourself?

And you had an image again. This time, one you did recognize.

It was the same hallway, it was the same people. It was you. On the floor. In Tony's arms.

It seemed to be what had happened after you entered that strange memory, where everything was loss.

But you couldn't hear anything. You could only see the three figures moving their mouths around you, sharing ideas, thoughts, plans… but you couldn't hear them.

And then another figure appeared.

Wanda Maximoff.

You had shared absolutely no time with her since you had awakened. You hadn't even seen her until now, but recognizing her had been so easy when red clouds spread from her hands.

Red clouds that were coming towards you.

What are they doing?

They are erasing your memories…

What? No. Impossible.

It's too dangerous for them for you to remember…

But why? What did I do to make them do that to me?

You wanted to shake yourself to remove Wanda's hands that were around your head. The red mist was spreading freely along your body, mocking you because you could do nothing but stare. You could do nothing but watch them betray you.

I won't remember any of this when I wake up.

Oh, no, you will. I'll take care of it.

Who are you, huh?

I already told you…

But-

A sharp pain shot through you, the voice disappeared and you could see your body jerking in Tony's arms. Wanda's red mist was shaking around your body, transforming into spikes and then into reddish liquid, as if battling against something. Maybe against your unconscious seeking to avoid losing the memories again.

Or maybe against the owner of the voice… who had promised you not to forget what had happened.

Even so, the pain was exasperating, and it was unpleasant to see from a distance your body shaking looking for a way out. Looking to escape from there. You hated seeing Tony's arms around your body now that you knew what he was doing. It used to give you some kind of sense of security, but you were sure it must have been an implanted feeling. There was no other explanation.

When it seemed like it was all ending, when Wanda's red clouds were beginning to disappear and gather in her hands, the panorama in front of your eyes began to dissipate.

But nothing could prevent Stephen Strange from raising his head, sighing, and his eyes meeting yours as if you were a solid person in front of him. You barely noticed how his face paled as you stepped into nothingness again.

----

i have no words. what are we thinking?

Taglist: @cjand10 @yallgotkik @ruffdog921 @coracal @its-just-kayy @pono-pura-vida @vampiresarezombies @kaz11283 @vicmc624

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky fluff #marvel #calmly remember #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier

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pavo-ocxllus · 11 months

Text

« rewind. / pause. / fast forward. »

the thin slip of paper wrapped around the bottle nestled in the crate's furthest left corner caught your attention first. slowly, you started to approach the car, as if it the bottle of wine was a secret explosion waiting to happen—

"[name], was it?"

you jumped at the sudden, yet familiar outburst from your concentration.

"oh! um, yes... if you wouldn't mind forgetting about this, alvin-"

"ALBEDO."

"albedo!" way to go, [name]. "yeah, i really hope you don't-"

"you forgot gloves," the cyan-eyed scientist was quick to pull them (almost materializing it) out of nowhere. "after meeting each other, i don't believe either of us would appreciate accidentally pinning you responsible for mr. ragnvindr's incident."

this time, he offered a small smile that resembled a smirk if you squinted. you'd feel embarrassed, but that was mostly overridden by relief.

slipping that on, you muttered a 'thank you' before finally delving into the trunk, being extra careful as to lift the wine bottle you had your eyes on.

playing with it by moving it up and down, it was just as you thought—it was loose.

double checking by setting the bottle aside, you picked another up to rid your doubts. it refused to budge.

placing that bottle back down, you picked up the former bottle once more, now trying to wiggle the label out. crap, it was harder than you thought...

just then, you felt your back against someone's chest, arms coming from either side of you and toward the bottle. a glimpse at the gloved hands removing the label already told you who they belonged to.

you felt albedo breathing against you; it was oddly more audible than you'd imagine a person's would be. fortunately, the moment was short lived once he managed to get the label out ans pulled away.

"thanks," you could only offer. though, given what you knew of albedo already, it probably wasn't that deep.

"it's no problem," he answered. "maybe that would help you to remember my name."

you take that back, maybe it was that deep.

your face flushed pink as you turned to face away from his blank eyes practically boring into your soul. whatever, you had a job to do! he might be cute... but still! getting evidence for the law firm is very much so crucial!

with the label now free and in your hands, you took a moment to examine it. of course, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary at first, but upon closer viewing, you noticed there was something on the inside of the label.

writing...?

"it's diluc's," when albedo saw your confused face, he quickly started to explain. "we had his handwriting analyzed before he decided to hire from your firm."

you glanced at the his handwriting, looking similar to that of a signature—hard to read and understand.

seeing as you were having trouble deciphering it, you handed to albedo to see if he could understand it, which he gladly took. a few moments of muttering later, he finally started to speak clearly.

"'traveler... i hope this note finds you well. may the cover of darkness make our city a safer place.' signed... and that's it."

"weird... he left out his own signature?"

"it's a strange choice, but if it was out of anonymity, it still doesn't add up," the silver-haired man put a hand to his hip, his other cradling his chin after he handed the label back to you. "regardless, that's besides the point. the message itself is something we should uncover. 'the cover of darkness?' 'our city a safer place?' ...i'm not exactly a detective, so i'm afraid this would be out of my field. are you taking anyone's case in particular?"

"no?"

"i see... well, this is something we'll analyze later. if we find anything concrete, it can be evidence for what you're looking for," he took out a plastic baggy out of his pocket to drop the label in. "you've got quite the eye for this. color me impressed."

"ah, thank you!" you responded, smiling. you half-expected him to leave you again to go back to his job, yet he simply stood there. for lack of anything better to say, you spoke up. "what time is it?"

"hmm?" he glanced at the watch wrapped smugly around his wrist, as if it was tailored for him. "oh, it's half-past noon."

his answer made you perk up.

"lunch...!" how could you forget? "i gotta go—i'll see you around?"

getting over his minor shock at your outburst, he could only crack a small smile. "...will do."

↳ it's time for lunch!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫? 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞! <𝟑

#𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞.!#𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠: [𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲! 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭...!].!#albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reade

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spitdrunken · 2 years

Note

OKAY IDEA FOR BLANKSHIPPING X READER BC YOUR BLOG AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME

At first the twins aren’t actually involved at all with each other but they both end up getting involved with the reader, one thing leads to another and the first time they’re getting intimate, it’s mainly just them both being focused on the reader until they realise they both like seeing each other like this, all flushed and worked up. Ingo noticing how good his brother looks with desperation in his eyes. Emmet wondering how Ingo’s rough hands would feel against his skin. Both trying way too hard not to delve into those thoughts. I feel like the reader would notice before they do how they sneak quick little glances at the others body, how they seem to get even more red everytime they do. Until they’re just like “ you don’t have to but i kind of wanna see y’all do some stuff with each other 😳” maybe they ask them if they could kiss each other, just to see what it looks like. Of course they’re a bit curious to see the brother’s reactions. They’re hesitant and still on the fence about it but they both tell themselves that it’s just for the reader, it doesn’t mean anything right? After a few awkward pecks and build up, these guys are just at each other like animals. Emmet whimpering and grabbing at his twin’s hair while Ingo is practically tongue fucking him in his mouth, melting into each other just like anybody else would. Of course they’ll apologise for “ forgetting about you” but the show they were putting on was definitely worth it. The reader will definitely encourage them to keep doing more even while they’re occupied with them.

ANYWAYS THAT’S ALL HAHA

notes: blankshipping, incest

YOU GET IT!!!!!!! honestly this is what i'm always thinking about when reading a 'normal' sbms x reader threesome LMAO

I love the idea of them just having these kinds of fantasies as long as they can remember, but they're just in complete denial about it / don't bring it up because they're terrified of ruining their relationship with the other! It's just something they indulge in, within the safety of their own mind- They can always read each other perfectly, except for this one thing! It's honestly a little ridiculous. But it makes perfect sense to them that they would fall for the same person- You. They'v e always shared everything else, after all!

Ingo is just so loud that his moans are impossible to ignore. Emmet is swallowing away drool whenever he keens or cries out, trying to ignore the fact his dick twitches every time. He can look away, but he can’t block his ears off! Meanwhile, Ingo feels like the biggest pervert alive, taking advantage of his little brother with his eyes alone...! Emmet’s bucking his hips into your mouth, face flushed, mouth hanging open, still smiling but relaxed, and his tongue- He looks away, folding his hands over his lap. He doesn’t want to think about any of this too hard. They’ve both ignored this all their lives!! They can go on a little longer!!

Well... Until you, a third party, decide to take pity on them, of course!

You think it’s a bad idea to ask them both at the same time, they might say no despite their feelings! You ask them privately, ask them if they’d like to try something like kissing (while assuring them that it’s fine if they don’t! you’ll never bring it up again!!) and their responses are very telling.

Ingo goes stiff as a board, cheeks flushing a deep red (and he doesn’t have his hat to hide it with!) and he starts sputtering. “Well, that’s certainly- Um, I wouldn’t have expected-- You’re not- You’re not joking, are you? If so-” You shake your head.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. I’m being serious. Like I said, I just.... I just thought I noticed something there? I already asked Emmet.” Ingo perks up at this, blinking. Anyone who says he’s hard to read is a liar. “He said yes.”

Ingo clears his throat, wringing his hands together and avoiding your eyes. “In that case... I agree as well.”

Your interaction with Emmet is shorter. Compared to his brother,

Emmet flushes as well, smile growing strained and eyes slightly wider. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. Usually, he stares right at you, but he’s averted his gaze now. He likes to repeat the same kind of sentences in the same structures, but he has no prepared sentences for a situation such as this.

You don’t let the awkward silence too long. “I already discussed this with Ingo.” Emmet makes a little noise in the back of his throat, looking back at you. “He said he’d like to.” His blush becomes impossible deeper, but then he’s nodding.

Once the full depth of the situation seems to hit him, he dissolves into giggles, leans forward and gives you a big kiss right on the lips! “Thank you sooooo much. You were right. About the feelings.”

Years of forced down affection come bubbling up through that kiss! You’re just trying not to drool when they start pawing at each other through their clothes. You don’t make a single noise, too afraid of snapping them out of whatever haze has settled over them. They’re rutting at each other and don’t even manage to get their clothes off before one of them is cumming in their pants!! Emmet is already leaving hickeys all over Ingo’s neck, though.

I think it’s soooo funny if Ingo is like “My sincerest apologies about leaving you out... What can I do to make it up to you? Anything is fine, my dear, I promise.”

You smile. “Let me watch again.” LMAO

#blankshipping #cha.ingo #cha.emmet #cw.incest

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sanjasinai · 2 years

Text

Sprouts

Rarely did he see his father. Tano’sae visited their village once a year to see his children, all born to one woman in one family. There were four total from him and only one son among them, and not a single one could be mistaken for anyone but his. Sanjura Sinai liked the look of him, and was pleased the children they made together bore his resemblance so strongly.

He seemed a giant to their son in those days, though in truth he was hardly taller than average. His hands were weathered from travel and trapping and the use of a bow, and only when he was made to wash did he not have dirt beneath his fingernails. Violet, changing eyes were framed by crow’s feet and he smiled often, rose pink hair tied back in braids at the back of his head. Tano’sae carried his son on his shoulder as if he were the lightest thing in the world.

But he was gone most days, and that was normal. How many Miqo’te kept to one village, one tribe, when there was a great wide wood to explore? A great wide world? Some of them stayed for weeks. Another family in their village, his mother said, behaved like Gridanians. Their father stayed with them always, only leaving to hunt and trade. He was an oddity to the rest of them, and the love he bore for his partner was worn like a second skin. It took Sanjura’s son a long time to realize the edge to her words was contempt.

So he never saw his father, and it was fine. He was told it was fine and normal and good really, because Sanjura had other mates and other children, and it would annoy her to have to entertain a man in their home every day. But Tano’sae was missed, and with no other men in their home, his son was lonely.

Maybe he was an explorer at heart. Maybe he was a famous adventurer. Maybe he’d fought with the Wood Warders, or delved deep into Gelmorran ruins, or found a cave of Duskwight who refused to let him leave. Or maybe, as his mother said, he had other women. Other children. Other sons who saw him more often, all with the same rosy hair, the same leonine tail, the same pale skin.

A woman stood in the doorway of the Porta Ciela’s medical ward with her hand on the frame, swaying slightly as the ship did. She wore a simple cotton tunic and a pair of poorly stitched leather leggings, and boots that may have been stolen off a corpse or off a cart. She must have been a decade younger than him or more.

“Are you Sanja?” She projected confidence too strongly, perhaps to cover the trembling of her fingers. “Sorry this is weird, just um. Someone said we’re both from the Shroud, so uh. I thought…”

Sanja sat behind his desk, quill dripping ink like a heartbeat onto a half-written letter beneath it. He said nothing. His tail flicking behind him mirrored hers in colour, in length, in the tuft of dark fur at its end.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, one echo to another, the mirror of a man who carried his life through the Twelveswood in nothing but a rucksack and a fondness for stories, and women, and the children they gave him.

“Forget it.” She gave him an easy smile and knocked on the doorway. “Dumb idea. Nice meeting you though, yeah?”

She lingered there for a moment longer, waiting for an answer that wouldn’t come. Sanja, unblinking, ink dripping from his quill, did not move. And the woman in the doorway gave him a curt nod and a wave before stepping back out into the darkened corridor, closing the door with the quiet click behind her.

Unexpected. Unwanted. He waited for the sound of her footsteps to fade before drawing a sharp breath, the quill in his hand clattering against parchment, ink-stained fingers pulling at the glasses perched at the end of his nose.

So rarely did he see his father. How many years had it been? Fifteen? Twenty? How many malms must she have traveled just to be here, all the way out in the Mist in the one place he thought he could always find refuge away from the rest of the world? How many tribes did Tano’sae see?

Sanja pushed the question from his mind. That was a life best left behind, forgotten and grown away from, worth less than the memory of the man who first shared the whispers of the woods with him.

And even if they were both his children, it didn’t matter. They weren’t family; they’d never met. He hadn’t seen his tribe in so long and his father longer. It was best if she expected and received nothing, and the two of them went to bed that morning pretending she never stopped by at all. That was easy. That was kind. That was what he wanted.

And yet…

Sanja pushed the chair back away from his desk and perched his glasses back on his nose, coat in hand, hurrying out the door and into the corridor in search of his father’s tail.

#stories #mateus

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mermaidsirennikita · 1 year

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Do you have instalust book recs preferably of the historical variety?

Tbh, I think a lot of (maybe even most?) of the books I read, especially the historicals, are instalust. The question is whether or not the characters realize it. Very rarely do I have a ton of time for books like Romancing Mr. Bridgerton, where it takes the hero a long time to realize he's attracted to the heroine. It's totally valid for others to like that, but one of my favorite things in a historical is when a hero is like, violently attracted to the heroine and even if he doesn't *like her as a person*, physically. He just can't control himself. Like, another one of my favorite micro tropes is a hero who, at some point in the book, comes in a way that makes me go "hmm, embarrassing". Too soon, not when he expected, on the floor, I don't give a fuck.

So yeah, I feel like even the books I read where it's like "oh she was right under his nose all along" are really... Like The Duchess Hunt, where yes, Penelope was in King's employ for years(?) before he made a move. But like. It's very clear that he's been attracted to her, he just refocused his energy on other shit.

But standouts that come to mind would be--

I've been reading Monica McCarty's Highland Guard novels, and I'm on book 4. I'd say that The Chief (1), The Ranger (3) and The Viper (4) are all preeeeetty instalust. Book 2 less so because the heroine is so uptight and the hero is so wild, but The Viper has the hero like. Obsessively attracted to the heroine because she's just such a babe, and he's so mad about it. The book actually delves into how her husband basically called her a whore because she's super beautiful and men are always into her. It's kinda deep.

Bombshell by Sarah MacLean has a fun iteration where both the hero and the heroine were instantly physically into each other from the jump and kissed... But she's his best friend's sister and this total bombshell (get it) and he's too dangerous~ for her, so he like. Goes to another country to avoid her for years before they get caught up again.

Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean honestly has a lot of this too, imo. Like I thought Clayborn was gonna jerk off to Adelaide's hair. He probably did, just not in front of her. On the page. He does sort of crash a carriage because he's too obsessed with staring at it, though. CLASSIC CLAYBORN.

Moooost Stacy Reid books will have a hero who's instantly like "I wanna choke her with my dick, but in a sensual way".

If you want to stray from historicals, paranormal really does this well. As always, IAD is king with this. I shall never forget the pure thrill of reading Pleasure of a Dark Prince and having Garreth recognize Lucia as his and immediately tracking her down to the woods and eating her out to orgasm through her panties within five minutes of meeting her. And then keeping her panties.

But idk, I can't really break it down. If I'm into the book, he's probably popping wood 10% in or less.

#romance novel blogging #'his cock twitched' or some shit

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dooppooo · 2 years

Text

mdni - characters are 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE!! I didn't plan for this to be a three part series but fuck it, I'm having fun and you guys love it.

pt.1 / pt.2

(those who commented on my last post and who were looking forward to part two: @sanzusmile @megumischubbycheeks @zoraspillow @yelyahennig )

When Yuta asked you to touch him again sometime - he fucking meant it.

Since going your separate ways that evening, Okkotsu hasn't been able to keep his mind off of you. Late at night he'd toss and turn, then eventually try to recreate the work you did on him, but it just wasn't the same.

With one hand he'd awkwardly try to milk his tip and with the other pump the rest of his length, but he was just too sensitive! He'd get so lost in the feel of it. His wrists would get too tired to keep up the high maintenance of his pleasure that he'd settle for a weaker orgasm.

You were so difficult for him to be around because all he could think about was him cumming all over your cute little hands again. While staring at your dainty fingers he'd get painfully hard and have to sit and stare at a corner until his erection subsided. Being in class with you was horrible, seeing you twirl your pencil between your fingers or tap your nails on the desk, if he could get one more moment with you, maybe this intense desire for you would subside - bury the hatchet if you will.

So each morning he'd grow more and more excited to cross of the days on his calendar because at the end of the month, Panda would be hosting his movie night! There he could slip in his chance to have you feel him again.

The weeks passed slowly, much slower than Yuta would've liked, but that only made movie night that much more thrilling when it did arrive. He was buzzing with excitement as he slipped on his sweatpants and old graphic tee, swooping up a new fuzzy blanket he bought for this very occasion and left his dorm with a grin.

He had been anticipating your company for much longer than he wanted to admit, just your energy was intoxicating and he wanted another sip of you. Tonight would be a night he'd surely never forget.

But some thing was off.

The smell of popcorn wasn't in the air, nor was there the sound of the TV and light chatter while everyone set up. When he rounded the corner to the lounge space and saw no board games or snacks, his heart dropped into his stomach. Where was everyone?

"Yuta? Did you not get our texts?" You asked from behind him.

He turned to reply, but his jaw hit the floor and his face began to burn - he was gawking at you! And he felt a downright idiot for it too.

On you a black sparkly dress hugged your skin, spaghetti straps and deep V across your shoulders and chest, fabric snuggly around your mid thigh, and a pair of velvety heels on your feet. To keep you warm you had a blazer dangling from your shoulders, which wouldn't offer anything more than a business casual look to the outfit. To top it off, your hair was as stunning as ever, ready for Okkotsu's fingers to delve into.

"So pretty..."

"Huh? Are you alright?"

A quick mental slap to the face had him regaining his composure, "Uh - y-yeah I'm fine. What's going on?"

You giggled, "We're going out instead of having movie night. I think Panda said dinner theater or something? Just dress nice, and quickly, Maki and him are already in the car."

With haste Yuta scrambled to toss on a white button up and some nice black dress pants, on his wrist was a watch and a simple suit jacket to top it off. While he changed, he thought it peculiar for Panda to change plans like this, and aim for something this expensive, he must've had to pull some strings. Either way, Yuta had to adjust his plan. Adapt and overcome. (overcum hahahah)

In the car Okkotsu greeted his classmates who wore a green gown and a white suit. Needless to say everyone was looking stunning and would be turning heads as they entered the the theater. However, Yuta would be spending most of his evening thinking of ways to get your hands on him than watching the play or dining. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and if he remembers correctly, you were on board with it too.

At the theater, everyone was formally seated and had their orders taken. Panda expressed to not spend too much since the one funding this fancy evening was Satoru, but that only encouraged everyone to order the fanciest dish they could find on the menu. Sure they'd be lectured for it, but the exquisite blast of flavors would be worth every finger wag and punishment Gojo had. Though, while everyone ate forkfuls of the finest dishes, Yuta was hunting for the nearest bathroom.

You see, it was a cheap plan, but one nonetheless. Maybe as it unfolded he'd polish the edges, but until then the idea was to get you both in a stall. He wouldn't take very long, not with your magical touch, only then could he truly appreciate the extent of the evening, but until then he only had you and a quiet place on the brain.

Unfortunately, Yuta wasn't very nonchalant in his search, for you quickly noticed the way he rubbed his thighs and surveyed the room.

You leaned over to his ear, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

A lightbulb went off.

"Uh...I'm feeling a little ill. Can you come outside with me for a second?"

Genius.

You didn't hesitate, "Of course - here -" you reached for his arm after standing from your seat and relaying to your peers Yuta's 'illness.'

Okkotsu felt unusually cocky at his ability to adapt to the situation so quickly and use it to his advantage. Things were going smoother than expected, and if they could return before the end of the play, even better. He'd definitely have to repay you for your time.

Once outside, you gently guided Yuta to the car you borrowed for the evening. You both slipped inside the backseat and turned on the fan to allow some fresh air circulate in an attempt to ease the brown haired boy.

"Now," you sighed while settling in the seat next to him, "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"Well...I'm not sure, I just got sick to my stomach all the sudden."

It was cute, really, how hard he was trying to mask his grin and keep up with his lies.

"Right..." you nodded, "Does it have anything to do with the boner you've had all evening?"

"Huh!?" He didn't think it was noticeable secure under his belt against his naval.

You grinned mischievously, "Did you think I wouldn't notice you shifting it under your jacket? You really need to learn to be more sly."

All color from Okkotsu's face drained only to be filled with humiliation. Since he was a teen he thought he was pretty good at dealing with his manhood, but you seemed to crush that notion with just a few words.

"Let's get this taken care of so we can see the play."

Your teeth pinched your gloss covered lip between your teeth at the rush you got unbuckling his belt. The sound of the metal clicking open and his zipper coming undone was shamefully arousing, having you cross your legs to trap any wetness trying to escape from your core as to not dampen your lovely dress.

Just like Okkotsu, you had been thinking about this, only you wanted your tongue doing the work instead of your palms. Imagining him digging his fingers in your hair, whining and biting back moans, thighs trembling, ugh it was all you could think about. Truthfully, you had also been checking off the days with glee in hopes of grasping your chance at the next movie night, but this was even better.

"Y/n..." Okkotsu breathed, eyes locked onto your hands unveiling him.

"Mmm Yuta, you're just as pretty as I remember."

To achieve a better angle you nestled yourself between his thighs on the floor of the car. At that, he balled his slacks in his fists and let a low whine express his neediness. Almost immediately, that whine was replaced by quick breaths and tiny moans as you pumped his length in your hand.

"B-both hands, like you did before."

You tsked, "So demanding, why don't you let me deal with it? Just relax."

It took a few moments for Yuta to lay his trust in you and let his head rest against the leather seats, his eyes fluttering close to fully immerse himself in the bliss. A faint grin appeared on his lips.

That grin was dropped into a gasp once you wrapped your lips around his tip. Then a moan followed at the swirling of your tongue. You looked up at him through your lashes and Yuta swore he felt genuinely drunk, but hadn't sipped a single alcoholic beverage all night. The cherry on top was when you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you and him, then spitting on his cock and pumping it to get it slick. He quickly stuck a hand out and held back your head to calm himself, or else he would've cum right then and there.

After a few moments, the feeling of your warm breath against his cock was more tantalizing than comforting. It was time for him to regain control, specifically by twisting your locks around his fingers and forcing you to take his dick into your mouth and down your throat. What were you going to do, complain? Not with his cock shoved in your pretty mouth.

"Mmm just like that." Okkotsu practically growled.

A few tears streamed down your cheeks as you did your best not to gag too hard on his length, but it was worth it to see Yuta this dominate. Usually, he was very reserved and kind, but something must've snapped in him to have him using your mouth as a cock sleeve, and you were oddly thankful for it. The change in dynamic was nothing less than hot and left a longing ache in your groin.

With no concern for you, Okkotsu thrusted his hips into your mouth and forced his cock further down your throat, to which you tried to keep up with the pace and pull sweet moans from him by working your tongue on the underside. This was a million times better than your hands, and you could tell by the way he twitched in your mouth. As much as you wanted to smirk and smile at the pleasure you brought him...it was a little challenging.

"Fuck...Y/n." He moaned out, and the sweetness in his voice had you moaning against him.

A guttural groan rumbled in Yuta's throat at the feel of you gagging and moaning against his cock, your spit and his precum mixing to make lewd wet sounds and amplifying the hotness in Yuta's lower stomach. If he could edge himself all night in your throat he certainly would, but a time had to come where that thigh-trembling orgasm had to rip through his spine.

Your throat was sore and bruised from his cock, but you didn't dare stop - not even the thought crossed your mind. The way he struggled to hold eye contact with you, his brows pressed together and face strained to express how hard he was trying not to cum, you only wanted to grind against your heels more. So what if you had a wet spot on your dress?

"I-I'm sorry."

You furrowed your brows at his comment, wondering what he had to apologize for, but it was more of a warning than an apology.

His nails dug into your scalp and he planted his feet onto the car floor firmly before mercilessly thrusting into your mouth. He grit his teeth and clenched his jaw as he focused on fucking your throat, falling in love with the way you gagged and gripped his thighs.

"Oh god-!"

Sweat had Okkotsu's baby hairs sticking to his forehead, the rest of his hair being thrown back with his head and his mouth releasing a shamelessly loud moan. His hips trembled as he thrusted into your mouth a few more times, letting his hot ropes of white shoot down your throat.

"I love you I love you I love you!"

You didn't realize what he was chanting at first, too occupied with swallowing every last drop of him and licking up the mess you both had made, tucking him back into his formal bottoms. He tasted as sweet as you thought he would.

Some drool dribbled from the corner of your lips and you wiped it with your finger as you slipped back onto the seat from your crouched position on the floor, and Okkotsu's eyes followed you the whole way. Rightfully, his eyes were wide and his pupils were unbelievably large, but there was a faint glint in his eyes, a softness. Tenderness and compassion.

His words hit you like a truck.

"Heh...you don't mean that." You awkwardly chuckled.

Yuta swallowed thickly, "No, I do mean it, I mean it with everything in me."

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah - you and every other guy I sucked off."

"I'm serious!"

Your gaze snapped his way.

"Yeah it was sort of the heat of the moment for me to say...but I do...love you."

Your mind went hazy and then blank. Were you to say I love you back? Did you love Yuta? No, you couldn't be here right now, you needed to be alone.

In your phone camera you fixed up your hair, put on a fresh layer of gloss, and reached for the door. However, you never made it out of the car, because Yuta had his arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against yours. The cherry flavor of your gloss was smeared onto his own lips and soon his tongue in an attempt to bring you closer to him.

You pushed against his chest, "Yuta-"

"Please! Please Y/n just say it back. I know you love me too." He searched your face frantically, his eyes crossing paths with your lips more than once.

"I'm not sure-"

"No, no don't say that."

"I'm not sure what love is!" You blurted out, frustrated at the way he wouldn't let you finish your thoughts.

His desperate expression twisted into pity, and in an effort to comfort you he slipped his hands into yours. Squeezing your laced fingers in his, he raised your knuckles to brush over his lips and proposed, "Let me show you what love is."

The sudden shift in mood was making your head spin and heart race. You felt disoriented and nearly overwhelmed at it all. Once second you're swallowing Yuta's cum and the next he'd begging to show you what love is. How does one process that?

The more important question: what was there to lose? What would be so bad about letting Yuta love you and express to you how true love operated? If anything, you needed him in your life more than he already was, you needed him as your lover, not as your friend. It was worth a shot.

"Okay...we can try." You agreed cautiously.

He was careful with you, nodding softly before cupping the nape of your neck to bring you in for a gentle kiss.

Thump thump thump!

"Are you two done making out in there? You're going to miss the second half of the play." Maki questioned sarcastically, peaking into the car with her hands cupped around her eyes.

You wanted to say screw the play and softly kiss Okkotsu into the next morning, dust your fingers over his body and feel his silky hair between your fingers, but you can't have your cake and eat it too.

Faces aflame, you both slipped out of the backseat and walked back into the theater behind Maki, hand in hand.

#jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #okkotsu smut #yuta smut

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possiamo-andare · 3 years

Text

Just You (3)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 5k

a/n: I can't believe it's been eight months since I updated this fic. y'all are probably dead by now and this will prolly get no notes lmao but I finally wrote the next chapter and it's so good in my opinion so please don't be too mad. enjoy!

Y/N needed complete silence when she was reading. If she didn’t, it was almost impossible for her to even read one page. As a child, in a room full of other screaming children, Y/N found it almost impossible to read. Most of her teachers misread this difficulty with an inability to read, which was not the case. This miscommunication actually worked in Y/N’s favour because the extra attention resulted in a greater love for reading. Y/N soon found herself reading everyday and even found it hard to put down a book. When she couldn’t get a physical copy of a book, she then went online and delved into a world where people created their own worlds and fantasies for their readers. Reading had become one of Y/N’s favourite hobbies and she could do it for hours.

Unfortunately, tonight was different. At around 6pm, just as Y/N picked up a book to read, loud music began to play from a distance. At first, Y/N tried to ignore it but soon, like mentioned before, the music began to get louder, and Y/N could not focus on the words before her. The more she tried to focus, the more distracted she became by the music. Soon, she could focus on nothing but the blaring music coming from across the street. Finally, after ten minutes of pure agony, Y/N got up from her bed and stormed down the stairs of her home. Her face is red with anger, and she desperately wants to know who the hell thinks playing loud music on a Tuesday night is acceptable. Unfortunately, she knows the answer the second she enters her kitchen.

Her parents are laughing with each other as they make their favourite snack. Every night, her parents make their favourite foods together as a way to unwind and talk about their day. Sometimes they shared it with Y/N and her siblings but on nights where her siblings were out with their friends and Y/N was the only one home, they usually just spent time with each other. Y/N hesitated for a moment and smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet her parents truly are. She wonders if the person she marries will have this type of relationship with her. She wonders, years from now, how she will look back on her time in OBX. She hopes she looks back with fondness. The moment is ruined though because her mother quickly looks up from the stove, a toothy grin on her face.

“Hello darling.” Y/N’s mother chirps. She reads her daughter's distraught face and since she can hear the music too, she knows why her daughter is upset. Without even letting Y/N speak, she answers the question clearly in her daughter's mind. “Ward Cameron’s son, Rafe, is throwing a party across the street. You can go if you want.”

Y/N snorts. “That boy has been rudely staring at me since we got here, and you think I should go to his house?”

This time, Y/N’s father turns around from the cabinet. “I hear JJ’s gonna be there.” There’s a small smirk on his face and it instantly grabs Y/N’s attention.

She tried to brush it off. “Well, I don’t really like loud music.”

Y/N’s mother scoffs. “Yes, you do.”

Y/N nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She knows that if there’s even a hint of JJ being at the party, she wants to go. “You’re right, I do.”

Y/N had not been to a party in years. The last time she had it was in her first year of high school. She had just moved to that new school only weeks before and had made only a couple of friends. The friends she did make were nice and invited her to a party. The party was okay, and she enjoyed herself, but she was very awkward because she barely knew anyone. She promised that from now on, she would only go to parties where she knew more than one person. Now, she found herself breaking that rule just to see JJ.

Since Y/N was in her pajamas, she ran back up to her room to change. She didn’t want to waste too much time picking out clothes to wear so she quickly looked through her closet and found a white sundress with small blue flowers decorating the material. She had never worn this dress and, when she first bought it, was unsure if she liked it because it was shorter than what she was used to but now, she was glad she did.

She lay her sundress on her bed for a moment and turned to her mirror, where she kept a cabinet full of makeup. Before she even put on any makeup, she looked back up in the mirror for the second time. As she finally had a chance to breathe, she realized her breath was unsteady and her hands were shaking. It was hard for Y/N to put herself out there. Most times, she was afraid of the rejection, or even at the fact that the friends she did have would be gone. But she remembered her parents' words. She was to stay in OBX for the rest of the year. She would make friends here. She would have a life here. With a deep breath, Y/N began to get ready for the night.

Y/N keeps fidgeting with her hair. She knows the more she fidgets, the more upset she’ll be with how she looks but she seriously can’t help it. She only does this when she’s extremely nervous and she knows why. She’s two feet away from Rafe’s front door and the music has somehow gotten louder. It’s almost as if he’s continuously trying to play the music louder to get her attention. Of course, she knows that to not be true, but still, Y/N had realized that in the last twenty minutes since she had decided to get ready for the party and walked across the street, the music had indeed gotten louder. She rolled her eyes as she approached the door, the loud music getting annoying. At this rate, Rafe Cameron would be deaf by the time he was 30. Y/N pretended not to care if he went deaf at all, but a tiny voice inside her head told her that she had to care for him because no one else would.

With a deep breath, she knocks on the door. She doesn’t think anyone would hear it because of how loud the music is but it’s worth a try. She was raised to have manners and would not just enter someone’s house before knocking.

To her surprise, only a few moments later, the doorknob twisted quickly and someone on the other end of the door opened it. It was as if someone had been patiently waiting by the door all night, opening it in hopes that she would come. Of course, she knew this to not be true because the person who greeted her was none other than Rafe Cameron. And he found her annoying.

Y/N couldn’t help but admit how delicious he looked. He wasn’t dressed in his usual preppy attire, no. He wore these ripped, distressed black jeans and a fitted white shirt with a baseball cap to match. It wasn’t necessarily his style that had him looking so delightful but his face. He seemed very relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. His usual straight posture was now more curled and casual. His face, which had always been pale and gray, was now filled with colour. He wore a cute blush across his cheeks and nose, and on top of the blush was a patch of light brown freckles here and there. Y/N figured he must’ve been in the sun all day. That and he was also high out of his mind.

“Y/N…” He trailed, his eyes glancing at her dress momentarily before returning to her face. Y/N feels a little self conscious under his gaze. She wasn’t exactly confident in her outfit tonight and he seemed, for the first time in forever, more confident than her. “You, um, you’re - you’re very…”

She involuntarily snickers, not realizing she’s doing it until Rafe hears it. His face changes into a dark frown and she has a deep need to apologize. He was probably just trying to be polite, and Y/N must’ve caught him just as his high was reaching its climax. “I’m what exactly?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, knowing that she’s teasing him. “You’re not invited.”

Well, she can’t say she exactly feels welcome right now, standing at the threshold of his door. He still hasn’t even let her in.

Y/N scoffs, her feelings only hurt a little. Although he didn’t look preppy, he looked just as douchy. “Well, your music’s so loud it could wake the dead. Maybe if you didn’t want uninvited people to come, don’t make it so obvious that you’re having a party.”

Rafe scoffs this time. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your bedtime?” He takes a swig of his beer bottle and Y/N almost forgets that he’s obviously been drinking. “Were you having a little read before you went to bed? Lemme guess; you were re-reading the Vagina Diaries for the tenth time?”

Y/N’s chest twinges with pain just a little, knowing that the book was on her bookshelf with a worn-out spine. He seemed to know her very well, but it only angered her because he got the answer right. “It’s actually Vagina Monologues, but nice try. I guess for someone who hasn’t opened a book in their life, the Vagina Monologues would be interesting.”

Rafe chuckles and she has a small urge to kiss the corners of his smile. Thankfully, once she swallows harshly, the urge disappears. “Just come in and don’t put your hippie feet anywhere near my furniture.” He finally steps aside, and Y/N takes that as the kindest invitation she’s gonna get from him.

“You mean, your parents' furniture.” She puts one foot in front of the other and tries to remember how to walk. Although it may not seem like it, she’s nervous. She’s not too good with crowds. As she passes Rafe, she can smell his cologne and she feel as though she might faint. For such an annoying boy, he really was intoxicating.

Rafe is not given enough time to throw a snide remark back in her face because someone has entered Y/N and Rafe’s little bubble. It’s another very handsome boy but this time, he’s sweet. He’s wearing preppy clothes (cargo shorts and a pink polo shirt - big shocker there) but he’s not preppy at all when he introduces himself.

“Hey! I’m Kelso; nice to meet ya!” He gives Y/N a half hug because his other hand is holding a beer, but she still gets the sentiment that he’s friendly. His hand respectfully lays on Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N actually hugs him back even though that’s not her thing with strangers.

“I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too!”

She watches as his brows go from a relaxed arch to a surprised arch instantly. It seems that whatever she has said has caught him by surprise. “Oh? You’re Y/N?” Kelso looks to Rafe for a moment, his eyes narrowing in amusement. Rafe tries to indirectly tell him to stop by flipping him off, but it only encourages Kelso. “I guess we have you to thank for this incredible party then!”

Y/N frowns, turning around to look at Rafe. They’re still in the entryway of his house and she hasn’t so much as taken in her surroundings, but this seems too important to ignore. What does Kelso mean? Did Rafe throw this party in hopes that she’d come? There was no way. Doesn’t Rafe find her completely annoying and obnoxious? If so, why would Kelso say such a thing?

“He’s joking right?” Y/N tries to confirm from Rafe but by his meek smile and his cheeks that have only gotten redder since she entered his home, she knows there’s some truth in what Kelso is saying.

Rafe shrugs, trying to come up with a lie. He had confided in Kelso as a way to relieve the stress that liking Y/N has caused but instead, Kelso just had to mess it up. “Well, not exactly.” His mouth is forming a lie before his brain can even properly think of one. “I mentioned to Kelso that you’ve probably never been to a party in OBX, so he must’ve thought I threw it for you.”

Y/N nods, confused as to why she feels a little sad. For some reason, a little part of her hoped that Rafe had thrown a party for her to notice him but alas, it had all been a misunderstanding. “Oh, well, okay.”

Except it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. Rafe had told Kelso that the only reason he was throwing this party was for Y/N to notice him in a new light. He knew she thought he was just another annoying preppy Kook and he wanted to change that. He thought maybe, just maybe, if she had fun tonight with him, she’d finally start to see him as he truly was, a loveable dork. Unfortunately, that seems to be ruined now.

Before any more words can be exchanged, someone yells for Y/N. She instantly looks to the crowd of people in Rafe's backyard and sees JJ and Pope. The door to his backyard is open so the yelling is clear and not muddled by a barrier. They seemed to have been yelling for a while because they looked exasperated. Y/N watches as JJ stands from his lawn chair and motions for her to come sit beside them. She smiles for one of the first times tonight and nods, the pressure on her chest lifting when she sees her two friends. She wanted to take to Rafe later and get the full story because she had a feeling, he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but she wanted to greet her friends first. She’d get to Rafe later. For now, she wanted to relax.

When Y/N departed from Rafe and Kelso, awkwardly waving goodbye before maneuvering to the back of Rafe’s house, Kelso spoke first.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me she didn’t know this party was for her?”

Rafe glared at his friend. “You really think I’d tell her that. Now she probably thinks I’m even more creepy than before.”

Kelso rolls his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. “You didn’t see her reaction, bro. I don’t know if she even knows it herself, but she definitely likes you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. He doesn’t allow for his hope to rise because he knows it’s not true. He can’t let himself have any more hope that the new girl in OBX would want to have anything to do with him. She can’t like him because no girl like her ever has. So, instead, he steals glances at her for the rest of the night and hopes to God he can get high enough to forget about the beautiful girl across the street.

Y/N tried to enjoy herself, she really did. And to JJ’s credit, he tried to help her relax and have some fun. She drank the beer that was offered to her, danced with JJ and Pope, and even took two puffs of JJ’s joint. But, although she felt thoroughly buzzed, Rafe never left her mind. She tried to throw a few sneaky glances his way the entire night, but she couldn’t find him. She even left her spot beside JJ and pretended to get a refill on his nasty beer just to see if she could spot Rafe. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought it was just because she wasn’t looking hard enough but soon, after three whole hours of not seeing Rafe even once, she realized he was avoiding her. And if he was avoiding her, it meant that he was embarrassed from their conversation at the beginning of the night. Which meant that he lied, and he had in fact thrown this party just for her.

This revelation crept into her mind slowly throughout the night but when it finally sunk in, she was speechless. She didn’t know how to react. Sure, there was a slim chance that he had been telling the truth but the less she saw of Rafe at his own party, the more she realized that he had lied to her.

JJ had noticed how off Y/N seemed. When they had seen each other earlier in the day for her surfing lessons, he had made a fool out of himself. They had been practising for a few hours before they both called it quits, deciding to pick it back up the next day. Before departing, JJ offered her ice cream for a hard day's work, and she gladly accepted. They both ordered the same flavour (mint chocolate chip - he swore they were soulmates because of this) and ate it as they talked. When they were both finally finished, Y/N went to hug him goodbye, but he instead extended his hand awkwardly for her to shake. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but he was even more so. He had wanted to hug her but didn’t want to without her permission, so he thought a handshake was the safe bet. Unfortunately, he thought wrong and now, that awkward interaction was burned into the back of his mind. He was worried that’s why Y/N seemed so detached, barely speaking. When she had gone to refill her cup, JJ looked to Pope for advice. He had never been so needy for a girl’s approval before and since Pope seemed to want everyone to like him, JJ thought he’d give the best advice.

“So,” JJ sighs and he finishes telling the story of their awkward interaction. “Do you think that’s why she’s been so quiet?”

Pope snorted. “JJ, I think it’s just you. I doubt she even remembers it.”

Although his friend tried his best to reassure JJ, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was burdening Y/N’s mind. But, before JJ could continue his conversation with Pope, Y/N reappeared with a glass full of beer and a somber face. The topic was not brought up again.

JJ had been right though. Something was burdening Y/N’s mind. It’s not everyday that a girl finds out a boy who she thought saw her as a bothersome girl actually saw her as much more. It’s a difficult experience to relate to and not a problem Y/N thought she would have. Apparently, Rafe was better at hiding his true feelings than she thought. She had always assumed that when she’d catch him peeking through his window, watching her ride her bike with her brothers or bask in the sun as she read another book, he was judging her. She assumed he was making fun of her and her hippie family. And when they had first met in the main office of her school, it only solidified in her mind that he saw her as a joke. But instead, he might’ve actually liked her. You clearly only watch people in that way if you hate them or like them and since it clearly wasn’t hate…

No. She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Besides, even if he liked her, who was to say if she even liked him? He had been nothing but rude to her, even when he had technically invited her to this party. He called her a hippie (not offensive by itself but when Rafe said it, it might as well have been), watched her from his window with a scowl, and was a complete snob. If Y/N knew what was good for her, she’d stay far, far away from Rafe and anyone he associated with. But Y/N was a dumb teenage girl and curiosity got the better of her. She needed to find another good excuse to go inside and search one last time for Rafe.

The excuse presented itself when JJ made a small remark of how thirsty he was. Y/N jumped at the opportunity to refill his drink, even though he offered to go himself. But she insisted, taking his cup from his hands before he could argue any longer. As she made her way back inside, her eyes looking for the handsome brunette, Pope leaned closer to JJ.

“See? And you thought she didn’t like you?”

JJ nodded, feeling better about the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, if he knew why she truly had wanted to venture inside, it’s doubtful he would have felt better. He probably would’ve felt worse. But he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know for a while longer.

Y/N first made her way to Rafe’s huge kitchen where all the kegs were lined up. Half of them were already empty but the night was coming to a close and soon, half the party would leave and only Rafe’s closest friends would stick around until 5am. It was midnight now and although she didn’t have a curfew, she wanted to be home by at least 1am. So, as she filled only JJ’s cup, she decided against filling her own. She didn’t want to be too tipsy in case she ran into Rafe. Although, by this time, she thought it was very unlikely that she’d ever see him.

Just as that thought crossed her mind though, another person entered the kitchen. Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Topper. They had never interacted much, just a brief wave whenever she’d pass his house when she rode her bike. If he was outside, which he had only been once or twice, he’d wave, and she’d wave back. Other than that, they never spoke. Until now.

He stood beside her, filling two glasses with beer. His blond hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, but his hands were so full, and he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. Y/N had seen Rafe’s pool, but she did not find herself on that side of his house for many reasons (the pool was on the other side of the backyard, she didn’t bring a bathing suit, and her mind was busy with more important matters). Topper seemed to be struggling with refilling two cups, his hands shaking just a little. Y/N instantly registered that he needed help and decided that busying herself with assisting Topper would help take her mind off Rafe.

“Here,” Y/N offered, setting JJ’s cup down on the counter. “Let me help.” She takes one of the glasses from Topper and begins to fill it up, all the while keeping an eye on Topper to make sure he doesn’t spill the other cup.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, swaying back and forth to the music that is blaring from somewhere inside Rafe’s house. Y/N can’t help but smile a little at this giddy boy who would otherwise be embarrassed for acting so weird if he was not so drunk.

Unfortunately, not even helping Topper can keep Y/N’s mind off Rafe. She wonders that since Rafe must’ve told Kelso something about her, Rafe could’ve confided in Topper too. From the gossip that JJ had told her, Topper used to date Sarah but even after they broke up, Rafe and Topper remained friends. So maybe, just maybe, Rafe had said something to Topper about her? She figured even if she asked Topper, it would never get back to Rafe. Topper was clearly drunk and would not remember the conversation he had with Y/N. No harm, no foul. Right?

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly squashed because just as she began to open her mouth, someone else entered the room. It was Rafe.

Rafe had skillfully avoided Y/N all night, while still stealing glancing her way. He never noticed that she too had been looking for him. He was so nervous that he’d eventually bump into her that he would make Kelso check every room before he entered it. Unfortunately, Kelso was drunk by midnight and could no longer help Rafe. Rafe tried to let it go, figuring you were probably gone by now. So, he asked Topper to refill his cup as he helped Kelso into his mom’s car. But, when Topper still hadn’t returned by the time Rafe entered his home, he thought there was no harm in checking up on him. Apparently, there was a lot of harm in that.

And now, there they stood, facing each other for the first time since the beginning of the night. Rafe wanted to turn back around and leave but he had always made a fool of himself, and he knew that if he awkwardly left without acknowledging Y/N, she’d surely think even lower of him. So, as soon as their eyes made contact, Rafe awkwardly raised his hand and waved. He could feel the awkward smile painted across his face and Y/N seemed to mimic him.

“Hey.” He squeaked out, taking both cups from Topper before speaking to his friend. He figured the less he looked at Y/N, the less awkward he would feel. He was wrong. “Top, why don’t you lie down on the couch. I’ll bring the beers soon.”

Topper only nodded, slowly making his way out of the kitchen, leaving his friend and Y/N in there alone. Alone for the first time since the beginning of the night. Both their pairs of eyes were trained on their drinks; Y/N was clutching onto JJ’s and Rafe held one for him and one for Topper. No one spoke for a while. Y/N had waited all night to get Rafe alone, just so they could talk and now she didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly shifted the weight in her feet, unable to think of the first thing she wanted to say. They were only five feet apart, but they might as well have been worlds away.

Rafe was in agony and decided to get it over with. He spoke first. “So, are you enjoying the party?” He spoke so formally, as if he was chatting with his grandmother, but he was too uncomfortable to speak any other way.

Y/N nodded, relieved he had taken the first leap forward. “Um, yeah. Never knew that kids could throw parties like this.”

Rafe smiled for a moment, happy that she was so amazed at his dullest party of the year. His heart fluttered at the thought of Y/N dancing in that beautiful white dress with him. Holding onto him as they swayed to the music, pulling her close. Close enough to -

“So, Rafe, I wanted to talk about earlier.” Y/N began, playing with the skin around her nails. It was a nervous tick she had yet to get rid of.

Those eight words destroyed Rafe. At that moment, he knew she had not believed his original lie. He wasn’t too surprised though. He was a shitty liar and Y/N seemed to pick on everything he did. Although he would rather rip his fingernails off one by one than have this uncomfortable conversation with Y/N, he knew he’d have to give her the answers she was looking for. Even if that meant embarrassing himself.

Finally, he nodded. “Um, uh, okay. What’s up?”

Y/N began to speak but before she could get a coherent sentence out, someone else entered the kitchen, making a bunch of noise as he did. Their eyes met instantly and when she recognized who he was, her back straightened slightly as if she had been caught in a salacious act. It was JJ.

“Y/N, what's taking so long?” He stops just after he enters the kitchen and as soon as his eyes go to Rafe, his smile drops. He’s confused beyond belief. He doesn’t know why Y/N is speaking to Rafe. He didn’t even know they knew each other. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”

Y/N forces a smile, glancing at Rafe briefly before walking past him and towards JJ. She hands JJ his cup and he gladly takes it, a look of pure confusion written on his face. “No, Rafe was just asking me if I am enjoying my first party in Outer Banks.”

JJ's eyes shift to Rafe, whose face is pure white. “Really? How… kind?”

Y/N knows JJ is suspicious so to curve his focus back on her, she reaches up to cup one side of his face. JJ’s eyes instantly fall back onto her, a small smile back on his lips. “Walk me home, JJ. I’m getting tired.”

JJ nods sweetly, placing his hand over the one that’s cupping his cheek. “Sure. Go get your stuff and I’ll meet you at the front of the house.”

Y/N looks back to Rafe one more time, a small smile on her face. Rafe pushes his lips into a thin line, nodding goodbye to her. She does the same, leaving the kitchen as quietly as she entered. Y/N’s afraid to leave JJ and Rafe alone but she really has no reason to stay any longer. She hopes that she can get Rafe alone soon so they can have an actual conversation. Tonight, was kind of a disaster but being with JJ and having such a fun time with him made up for it. She knows JJ is the type of guy she should be with. He’s fun and carefree and they’re too much alike to not get along. Even though this is all true and she does have feelings for JJ, there is a part of her that yearns for Rafe. And that part scares her.

Once Y/N is gone, JJ’s smile drops, and he turns back to Rafe with a menacing glare. “Look, I don’t know what your game is here, but I really like Y/N. We both know you’re not her type. So do both of us a favour and leave her alone.”

And with that, JJ was gone too. Leaving Rafe alone.

Even with all these people in his house, Rafe never felt more alone.

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe (sorry to these queens for waiting so long lmaooo)

#jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe x reader #jj x you #jj one shot #jj fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe cameron obx #outerbanks #outer banks fic #obx #obx s2

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dudeandduchess · 3 years

Text

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 8]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Note: I have nothing against McDonald’s; I love some of their things (Nuggets!!!). It’s just that the contrast between what (Y/n)’s mother had always had, compared to something so normal makes me laugh.

Warnings: Smut, Making Out, Candy Swapping, Semi-Public Sex (Private Beach), Teasing, Champagne Blowjob, Cum Swallowing

||Sugar and Spice Masterlist||

***

It had been a couple of days since the pleasurable incident at the Rengoku clan’s mountain home and, for the life of her, (Y/n) couldn’t get it out of her head. Especially at night, when she begun fantasizing about having Kyōjurō’s hands all over her again, with his chest pressed flush against her back.

She would never admit it, but she was addicted— after only the barest taste of him.

And she would have devised a plan to wring the same pleasure from him again, had he not called her the following morning to say that something had come up in Osaka. That would have been find, if it only took a day to fix it. But, apparently, it was going to take a few days.

(Y/n) had tried not to let her disappointment show in her tone, but Kyōjurō must have picked up on it, since she had gotten the most beautiful bouquet of pink and white hydrangeas— as well as one of Kyōjurō’s button down shirts— a mere hour after they had said goodbye to each other.

The card had even held the sweetest inscription she had ever received, which she quickly used to cover her face— as she raced back up the stairs to get back to the privacy of her room.

At that present moment, with her already done getting herself ready for the day, she took a brief moment for herself and sat down on the edge of her bed; taking the card where she had left it on top of her nightstand, and biting back a smile as she read her fiancé’s writing.

‘You are much like hydrangeas; Beautiful, but selfish with your love. I hope that I can take a piece of your heart while I’m gone, And I hope that someday I’ll have your love, (Y/n).

P.S. I’m giving you my shirt, so that it will keep a little bit of me with you.

Forever Yours, Kyōjurō’

(Y/n) couldn’t help but bite down on her lower lip, if only to bite back the giggle that threatened to spill from her lips. She had been reading the card frequently, yet it still managed to elicit the same reaction from her; as if she were a lovesick teenager.

It was very unbecoming for her; especially over someone whom she was still getting to know.

Kyōjurō was going to become her husband, that was a fact, but there was a tiny voice in her head that always warned her to not get too close. Thankfully, it had been small enough to bury beneath all of her foremost thoughts; yet when she was alone— like at that moment— it gained enough momentum to make itself known.

And the smile on her face, which brightened up her features, turned down into a barely perceptible frown. It was dangerous for her to fall so easily for a man; especially a man that she knew was still keeping his cards close to his chest.

She knew that; after all, she wasn’t that far gone in her blossoming feelings for him.

It would have been so easy to keep herself in check, to guard her heart and keep herself sane… if only he didn’t make her feel like throwing all caution to the wind so she could jump and fall right into his arms.

Just like he had told her that she made him happy, Kyōjurō made her feel the same; along with feeling protected and appreciated.

Before (Y/n) could delve in deeper into her own thoughts however, she quickly shook herself from her reverie and placed the card back down on her nightstand. Then, she got up from her bed and straightened herself out; after all, Rin hadn’t been coming to her room to pester her about attending events in her parents’ stead.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t been tasked to attend any political functions ever since Kyōjurō had warned her mother to lessen her tasks. It gave her enough time to actually relax during her break, and it felt amazing.

She had to remember to give Kyōjurō a kiss once he returned. And if she were to be honest, she would say that she missed him.

“You’re too invested, (Y/n),” The young woman muttered to herself with a playful scoff, before shaking her head and making her way down to the dining room. It was time for breakfast, after all; her most dreaded part of the day, since she had to sit there and take all of her mother’s ill-concealed jabs.

Her tasks may have lessened, but her family life sure hasn’t improved.

With all her apprehension about going to see her mother, (Y/n) even dawdled a little bit during the walk downstairs; purposely taking her time to admire some of the paintings that caught her interest, until she arrived at the doorway she was trying to avoid the most.

And with a deep breath, she stepped through and expected her mother’s mildly displeased expression to greet her. Only, the first face that she saw had her immediately brightening up; especially when those lips that she missed tilted up at the corners to give her a handsome grin.

“Kyōjurō!” (Y/n) breathed out, just as a wide smile colored her expression. And before she could help it, she already found herself practically skipping over to where he now stood— only to freeze when she saw her mother’s narrow-eyed gaze boring right into her.

Immediately, the arms that wanted to wrap themselves around her lover froze at her sides; while Kyōjurō engulfed her in a tight embrace, before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Did you miss me, princess?”

“I… I did.” She admitted, her smile almost faltering once, as she felt her mother’s glare boring right into her back. However, she was shielded by Kyōjurō’s face, so she allowed herself a little bit of rebellion and leaned in to peck his lips— all while her hands lifted themselves up and settled themselves at his sides in a pseudo hug.

As her mother had kept repeating to her while she was growing up: it was unbecoming of someone of her social status to show too much emotion to anyone, as it gave people a leverage over her. And it was obvious that it had stuck to her, since she could only act normally whenever she wasn’t around any people who gave a damn about who she was.

Thankfully, she was shaken from her reverie by Kyōjurō guiding her to sit down on the empty chair next to where he sat. “Go and eat, baby. You need your strength for today.”

Kyōjurō’s words were innocent enough, but they didn’t fail to make goosebumps raise across her skin. They were so laden with hidden meaning, at least in her mind, that she couldn’t shake the warmth that pooled at the pit of her stomach.

With those words hanging in the air, she turned her full attention to the food set out on the table— holding back a surprised expression when she saw that it was laden with carry-out boxes from McDonald’s. A laugh wanted to bubble free from the sight of the lavish table paired off with something so… common, yet (Y/n) could only purse her lips together as she grabbed the laid-out silverware to serve herself a pancake.

Breakfasts used to be such a droll agenda whenever she was at home, but Kyōjurō had managed to spin such a humorous twist on it that made her want to kiss him.

The best part? Rengoku Kyōjurō had practically forced her mother— the wife of the Prime Minister, and the prissiest woman to ever live— to eat an Egg McMuffin.

(Y/n) would never forget the undernoted look of disgust that she kept shooting the blond at her side; the very man whom, she was naught to admit, was starting to become such an essential part of her life.

“How’s your McMuffin… okaa-sama?” Kyōjurō asked quietly, looking so regal even with a paper cup of coffee in his right hand. And (Y/n) could only get swept into him even more, when he turned to her and gave her the most attractive wink; one that had her heart practically skipping in her chest.

***

When (Y/n) had heard that she should keep her strength up for the day, she had expected so much more than just going to the beach— which Kyōjurō’s family apparently bought a few years ago— and being told that her fiancé only wanted to relax.

If she were to be honest, she would say that she expected to get railed so hard on the blanket. After all, it was why she had worn the sundress that she was sure accented all of her curves; one that would entice Kyōjurō into doing just what she wanted him to.

There wasn’t anything wrong with hoping to get fucked by such a sexy man, but it had been a few days, and she was sure that he was trying to put on a show just to tease her. That was the problem: he wasn’t giving in to her.

He merely laid down next to her on their blanket— in all his shirtless glory— while he kept eating that goddamned hard candy that was in the glass bowl next to him. And to make things worse for her, he looked so attractive— especially with his abs out on display, and his sunglasses framing his face so perfectly.

She would have long straddled his hips and slipped his cock inside her, had she been that shameless of a woman.

It wasn’t much of a statement coming from her, based on how they had first met, but it was different because they were out in the open; where anyone could happen by and take pictures of them humping like rabbits on the beach.

That wasn’t a headline that she wanted the entirety of Japan to see, even if she knew that the property was as secluded and secure as it could be.

Still, Kyōjurō was making it so hard to resist him. And he knew just how badly he was affecting her.

“Do you want to eat something, baby? Maybe a drink?” Kyōjurō asked softly, raising his sunglasses to the top of his head while he turned to look at (Y/n)— whom was no longer scrolling through her phone, and was blatantly ogling his body.

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t like that, or if he said that that wasn’t turning him on.

In fact, he had wanted to push her down on the table at her house, had her mother not been there to keep giving him ill-concealed glares. But he had to keep it in his pants, since he wanted to see how she would react with a little bit of pushing from him.

After all, he could make her so needy for him that it would make for the hottest nights of their life; especially if he kept on teasing her bit by bit until their wedding night.

It was too little too late, after he had already had a taste of her tight pussy, but it only made things much more exciting for him. If only he wasn’t constantly close to asking her to fuck him.

“A glass of champagne would be nice…” (Y/n) answered softly, the flush on her face getting more evident in the shade, especially when her eyes flickered up to meet his own. They were so intense with need that Kyōjurō couldn’t help it…

He cupped her face with one hand and pulled her in to his face, as he sat upright to meet her halfway.

The first touch of his lips to hers had his entire body tingling with warmth, as if it was coming alive under her touch. And it was only made better when their slow and tentative kisses slowly escalated to open-mouthed ones; ones that had him feeling himself getting hard.

Especially when she reached down and cupped her hand over his hardening cock.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Kyōjurō’s lips then, as he got it in his mind to push the piece of candy in his mouth into hers.

(Y/n) was clearly surprised at first, tensing up the tiniest bit, before getting swept up in her fiancé’s pace. His tongue kept prodding at hers, trying to pull the candy back into his own mouth, which she complied to.

Gingerly, she allowed him to take the sweet from her mouth, instantly missing its sweetness, before it was gently pushed right back in— so warm and a little minty, with a hint of something that was uniquely Kyōjurō.

Or maybe that was her lust addled mind talking.

However, before things could escalate further, the blond pulled away with a grin— his candy back in his mouth. “I’ll be back with your champagne, princess.”

To say that she was shocked and feeling cross with him was a total understatement. She was feeling so irate that she wanted to get some sort of revenge on him— which had been fueled by her less-than-innocent searches while he was gone.

So, she stewed in her own impatience— even sitting up on her knees— just so she could take him by surprise when he came back.

Thankfully, Kyōjurō didn’t take too long with getting her drink; grinning right at her even if she could see the obvious bulge in his swim trunks. It provided the perfect opportunity for her to get back at him, at least even a little.

And when he got back on their blanket, giving her the glass of champagne before making a move to sit back down, (Y/n) got up on her knees and placed a hand on his right thigh— looking up at him and licking her lips, before sliding that hand up to cup his hard-on once more.

“You look uncomfortable,” The young woman whispered, as she slowly undid the tie to her fiancé’s shorts and gently pushed them down his hips; much like how she pushed her own trepidations aside, and threw all caution to the wind.

She was on private property. And she trusted, deep down, that Kyōjurō would protect her and her reputation if it came down to it.

So, she let go of her inhibitions— especially when she was greeted by her fiancé’s hard cock in front of her face. It was thick, and long, and a little bit curved— which had her pussy getting so wet already.

Remembering how amazing he felt inside her even had her squeezing her thighs together, if only to alleviate the lust that she felt bubbling within her.

Gingerly, she took his cock in her right hand, pumping it slowly, and using her thumb to spread the precum that beaded at his tip. A low groan was her reward for that, which only spurred her on even more— especially when she saw his eyes close in pleasure.

Just the faintest of touches and he was already like that. She couldn’t wait to see what his reaction was going to be when she set her plans into action.

And when she leaned forward to suck on the tip of his cock, she felt confidence flaring up within her when Kyōjurō moaned aloud— with his right hand making its way into her hair.

It was hot, but she was not going to get swept up in his pace again.

So, before he could try to give her a nudge to take more of him in her mouth, (Y/n) pulled the head of his cock out of her mouth and took a big sip from the champagne flute in her left hand. And with that, she set the drink down on the blanket— hoping that it wouldn’t topple over.

She kept the cool and bubbly drink in her mouth— looking up again at Kyōjurō, whom was watching her with such a lust-filled gaze— before taking his cock in her mouth once more.

That time, however, Kyōjurō actually cried out in pleasure; hips bucking involuntarily as he felt the champagne’s bubbles teasing his cock. Partnered with the coolness of the drink, and the warmth of (Y/n)’s mouth, the blond was on his slow descent to thinking that he was going crazy with pleasure.

His head was already spinning from the sensations, and she had barely even taking his cock.

But when she swallowed around his tip, before circling her cool tongue around the crown of his cock, he felt his fingers curling into her hair. Hell, he had barely even managed to look up at the security camera perched on a light pole, as a warning for whoever was watching to turn away at that moment.

Slowly, pleasurably, (Y/n) kept taking more and more of Kyōjurō’s cock in her mouth— until she was all the way down to the hilt, with her nose pressed against his trimmed pubes.

And he thought that it couldn’t get any better than that, until she took the hand that was on his thigh to cup his balls and start fondling them.

His eyes almost rolled back into his head at that moment, as he threw his head back and lost himself to the heady feeling of her sucking him off; trying to bring him to the most intense orgasm that he was ever going to get from a blowjob.

Instead of trying to prolong his pleasure though, Kyōjurō began to gently rock his hips into (Y/n)’s face; breathing heavily and moaning aloud as he felt his orgasm crawling up on him.

“I’m cumming,” The blond whispered breathlessly, close to outright fucking his fiancée’s face, when she pulled his cock out of her mouth— leaving just the tip inside— before jerking her off with one hand.

All while the other one kept fondling his balls.

It was so heady that Kyōjurō could only cry out “Fuck, baby! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” as he spurted thick ropes of cum right on her tongue. She was white hot pleasure personified, and he was sure of it at that very moment.

Maybe he really couldn’t wait until the wedding night to have her again.

Especially when she made a show of popping her cock out of her mouth, and sticking her tongue out to show him his cum— before closing her lips and swallowing his thick seed.

“How did I get so lucky, princess?”

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny imagines #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku x y/n #kyojurou x reader

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mossybank · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Fruit — K. W.

Based on this post — @kitwalker02 @undeadcortez

Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut with like zero plot, office sex, spanking, nun reader, ooc kit?, fingering, unprotected sex, getting caught

A/N: this is my first smut one shot! Of course it had to be for my beloved Kit! I hope you guys like, I had fun writing it 💕

Y/N honestly couldn't explain the string of events that lead her to her current position, one of Sister Judes most favoured workers—rivaling the lovely Sister Mary Eunice— she had been entrusted to administer a punishment to Kit whilst Jude dealt with another problem in the asylum, something to do with the bakery, but that decision was poorly made.

It was no secret that Y/N spent a lot of time with Kit, many chalked it up to her just being the only employee in this place he'd listen to, but it ran much deeper than that. The two conversed in detail, growing close, and a thick tension always surrounded them; fleeting touches lasting longer than they should and words a little too intimate at times.

And so Y/N though about her current predicament, habit of veil and coif thrown across the room into some dark corner and skirt lifted to reveal her legs, hair messed up from a make out session. Truthfully, Y/N had never been devout, only really becoming a nun for the free housing when she fell on tough times, but that didn't stop a slight guilt from over taking her as she became more aware of her position and location.

"Have you ever..." Kit paused for a second, stood between Y/N's legs, which she had wrapped around his waist, holding a cane, "Had this used on you?" He wouldn't be suprised if Jude punished her own staff alongside the patients.

"Me? Never, but I've seen a few newbies at the receiving end of Jude's wrath."

The girl moved her hands from her sides and placed them upon Kit's, "But.. I've always wondered what it felt like." She said, a sly smile as she looked up at the suspected murderer, something she often forgot he was and quite frankly refused to believe was true, through her lashes.

Kit chuckled, raising a brow at Y/N, "You're a bad girl, sista'." He comments, giving her a peck on the lips, but of course she already knew that.

Y/N bit her lip and leant back, "Well, what are you going to do about that, Mr Walker?" She turned around, elbows leaning on the desk, and shook her hips teasingly, "Spank me?" She winked.

For second, Kit faltered, he was out of practise, but he quickly picked himself back up, playing along with Y/N's game. He placed a hand on her shoulder blades, pushing her down onto the table, leaning some of his weight against her, crotch rubbing against her ass. He leant down, hot breath fanning on Y/N's ear,

"You'd like that, huh, Suga'?" He says lowly, almost a growl, before straightening back up.

The rooms stills for a second, Y/N waiting in anticipation. There's a split second where she doubts that Kit is actually going to do anything, thinking that she'd perhaps gone too far and made the man uncomfortable. Then, it happened—

smack.

It echoed slightly in the room, and Y/N flinched with a gasp, there was a hesitance behind the whip, a feeling of unsurity, but that was to be expected when thrashing someone for the first time.

Kit placed a hand over where he'd spanked Y/N with the cane, cool hands making her squirm, she still had underwear on so he couldn't be sure if it'd left a mark,

"Can I..?" He trailed off, fingers dipping into the waistline of the underwear before slipping it off at Y/N's enthusiastic nods.

Kit's hand trailed over where the cane had made contact with Y/N's skin, there wasn't really a mark, though compared to the bloodied and bruised lines Jude left people with of course anything would look miniscule in comparison. He expected to feel bad about marking the girls skin, but strangely enough he didn't.. In fact, he liked it.

Y/N looked over her shoulder at Kit and tilted her head, "C'mon, I know you can do better than that." Perhaps it wasn't wise to mock the man with a cane, men were often unpredictable and she didn't actually know Kit as well as this situation would lead someone to think, but maybe that thrill was part of the fun for Y/N. She didn't know how he'd react to her taunts, and that was something she relished in.

Kit's brows raised, a look of amusement washing over his face, "I thought you nuns were meant to abstain?"

"Maybe I'm just not like all those other nuns.."

"And I'm the one who's meant to be punished?" Though given Kit's position, it was clearly decided long before now that he wasn't in trouble, "What's the punishment for a slutty little doll like you?"

"Twenty lashes," Y/N could feel Kit's confidence growing steadily with every word between them and bit her lip, "At least."

If she couldn't sit tomorrow, not that the opportunity to do so presented itself often in this job, Y/N would know she only brought it upon herself and it turned her on. God, she'd been a nun for just over a year at this point and not being able to have sex was absolutely killing her. Of course there was a chance Kit would just spank her, leaving Y/N high and dry on her bosses desk, but seeing how worked up Kit was she could tell he wouldn't be leaving without getting his dick wet.

"Twenty? You keep count for me, alright suga'?" Kit shifted his stance slightly, "and look just straight ahead for me."

Ah, look straight ahead, Y/N liked the sound of that. She complied, suprisingly, not being able to see when Kit was going to touch her added to her excitement.

Kit's next spanks were harder, ego improved from his first hit, and Y/N couldn't be happier. The sultry sting that came from each lash only arousing her further, coupling with Kit's words as he worked like a fine wine and steak. Her arousal must've been visible to the eye by now, Kit stopping and putting the cane down, producing a satisfying clink against the wood of the table.

His hands first went for Y/N's ass, caressing over the marks he'd made and soothing them temporarily, before one made its way towards her pussy.

"All this and I haven't even touched you properly." He comments, fingers running across her lips and coating them with her slick.

They were only at thirteen, but that was enough, the two were clearly desperate for more.

Y/N whined at Kit's touch, it wasn't much but it was the most she'd felt in months, and tried to grind against his hand. At this, Kit moved it away, tutting at her.

He mutters out a 'behave' and Y/N hears the metallic jangling of his belt being unbuckled, the sound bringing heat to the tips of her ears and the corners of her lips to twitch upwards.

His hand goes back to her pussy, rubbing it and finding her clit, repeating small circles around it. Y/N moans and bucks her hips, resting her head against the desk she was bent over.

"You're so needy, Doll, all for me." Kit watches her writh on his fingers, one hand working on her clit and the other now going towards her entrance.

The way she pulled him in mesmerised him, her sounds a sweet overture, and he bit his bottom lip in concentration.

"Fuck me," Y/N says airily, letting out a gasp as Kit curled his fingers inside her, "Please, I need it."

Kit was already hard, but if he wasn't Y/N's pleas would have him up in an instant, "I don't have any rubbers, are you sure?" He stops fingering her, Y/N whining at the loss of contact.

Even as far gone as the two were now, Kit wanted to make sure Y/N was comfortable every step of the way.

Nodding, Y/N lifted her head and looked towards Kit, "Just pull out." She says, reassuringly, because everyone knew the pull out method was 100% effective.

That was enough for Kit, he took a deep breath in, "I want to see you," He mutters, pulling Y/N up from her bend over position upon the desk to instead sit on the edge facing him.

Sitting on the hard surface stung but the wood offered a cooling effect alongside it, but eitherway she'd forget the pain soon enough, moulding it to pleasure.

Y/N pulled Kit in for a kiss, hand delving into his hair; it was open mouthed and desperate, teeth clashing a few times without a care from the couple. Glancing at the clock, Y/N knew she should be conscious of time, Sister Jude could return any minute, but she neglected voicing this concern to Kit.

Kit's hand trailed under Y/N's dress, trailing across her stomach before resting on her left boob. In a joint effort, the two managed to get it off, leaving Y/N now in only a bra.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." She says jokingly, with a wink, hand going behind her back to unclasp the bra, wanting Kit to take his shirt of.

Maybe being completely naked was unnecessary, scratch that, it absolutely was completely unnecessary, and was bound to make getting caught worse but that thought didn't cross the minds of Kit and Y/N right now. If it had however, it merely would have been more motivation.

Rejoining to kiss, after a second Kit moves from Y/N's lips to her jaw, trailing kisses down her neck.

"I'm going in." He tells her in advance, the head of his cock teasingly stroking her pussy lips before finally he pushes in.

Kit allows Y/N time to adjust, sliding his length in slowly before bottoming out and waiting for her instruction to continue. At her command he moved, setting a steady pace thrusting in and out.

Y/N leant her head against Kit's shoulder, trying to suppress any sounds knowing the walls of the asylum could be awfully thin when you didn't want them to be.

One of Kit's hands snuck from Y/N's waist to her cunt, going back to play with her clit, and the other venturing to her breast to toy with her nipples, resulting in a sharp gasp from the girl.

Digging her nails into Kit's back, his cock hitting just the right spot, Y/N brings herself to say something she's been holding back

"God, Kit, I think Jude's going to come back soon..—" She manages to force out between laboured breaths and whimpered moans.

"Well, we better make this quick then Suga'." Kit sped up his pace, Y/N arching her back.

She bucked her hips to matched his thrusts, throwing her head back.

Within the next few minutes the office was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, sweat humidifying the air and stifled moans of pleasure.

Kit let out a groan, "Doll, I'm close—" His hips juddered, pace becoming somewhat erratic.

Y/N hummed, going in to kiss Kit, moaning a soft 'me too' into his mouth.

As Kit pulled out to have his own release, his hands never left Y/N, fingers replacing his cock as his cum coated her stomach. Y/N let out a shuddered gasp, letting out one final moan as the coil deep inside her finally snapped, reaching her high. Kit continued to pleasure her through it, only stopping when she fell slack in his arms and tried to steady her breathing.

She clung onto Kit and slowly regained herself, glancing at the clock, "Shit, we need to clean up before—"

Speak of the devil and he should appear, or rather she in this case, Y/N's mother had always said, for once in her life the saying proved true.

The door opening loudly, Y/N and Kit froze, giving eachother a look of worry before slowly turning and meeting eyes with a livid Sister Jude.

Dear God, there was no saving them today.

#Kit walker x reader #Ahs x reader #American horror story x reader #Evan Peters x reader #Ahs asylum #Ahs 2 #Kit walker #Ahs #American horror story #Evan peters #Imagine #Headcanon #Drable #One shot #Female reader

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 1

I'm finally back with some more rowaelin! I started this fic in november last year and wrote the first 10k in 24 hours, but from then on this fic was a struggle... Thank you so, so much to @morganofthewildfire for sharing so much of your time to help me with this, this fic would not be here without you 💗 I'm so happy to have finally finished it and can share it on here. I hope you enjoy

CW: past drug abuse, minor character death, violence

7.7k - masterlist - ao3

When her agent sends her the script it’s not the first time she’s heard of Rowan Whitethorn, his name is written at the top under the heading director, which itself is under the big red text reading confidential. He’s been at this stuff for a while now, directed a couple of movies that popped up on her radar but that nothing ever came of for her, and he’s well known in the business.

He was even nominated for an Oscar a couple of years ago, and she watched the ceremony with Lysandra, slapping the bills into her outstretched hand when he didn’t win.

His movie had been far too fucking raw for him to have won, she knew that, a tale about a group of kids who witnessed a murder and how it stayed with them and fucked them up into adulthood, but it had stuck with her nonetheless and she’d put her money on him anyway.

She reads the section of script Dorian has sent her, tucked up in bed with a glass of sparkling water and her most comfortable sweater, leaning back into the mountain of expensive pillows she had Elide buy for her and pondering how so much money could end up so uncomfortable, and she knows it’s something special.

She realises she wants this role, almost to an uncomfortable degree, when she’s about five lines in. The heroine is bratty and rash, but serious and pained in a way that makes her completely fleshed out and Aelin wants to play her, wants to be her and embody her in a way that takes her out of the pit she’s in.

She hopes this could be what gets her out of it.

Aedion had tried to pull her out, gods bless him, dropping by her apartment every morning for weeks to check up on her with a coffee in his hand, topped with cream and two sugars the way he knows she likes. Each morning he let himself in with her spare key, the one she gave to him the day she moved in, wanting him to be able to let himself in whenever he wanted but also knowing there was no one else she wanted to give it to.

She would have given it to Sam, would have given everything to Sam, but he’s gone and she’s left sitting here, wondering how to salvage what’s left of her reputation.

What reputation she had even managed to build after starring in one mediocre TV show and a handful of low-budget movies. She knows deep down, and in a way her brain likes to remind her of when she’s at her lowest, that the main reason she isn’t a complete nobody is because she’s Evalin Ashryver’s daughter. Her therapist tells her every time she bothers to go to a session that having a famous mother doesn’t mean she’s a failure and that she has to recognise each of her successes as her own. She nods along every time, but she doesn’t believe her. What has she managed to accomplish truly on her own?

It hasn’t been made public yet that Rowan Whitethorn is involved in the film, she only knows because Chaol wrote the whole script himself and texted her to let her know when he signed on to direct. She’s known Chaol since she was eighteen and took her first solo trip to Rifthold, drawn to the lights of the big city and the almost magnetic pull of the heart of the industry. He’d stumbled upon her in a club she was far too young to be in and had pulled her out, sending her home in a cab that he paid for. Looking back she was grateful for his attempt to avoid what she knew later was an inevitability.

She had cursed him when he told her she’d still have to audition, but she gets it. She hasn’t exactly behaved in a way recently that makes people want to take a chance on her.

Stumbling out of clubs, eyes as wide as saucers and high as a fucking kite isn’t the kind of star casting directors are desperate to hire, but she’s trying to be better. She’s promised those around her that she’ll be better, and she knows that the only reason she hasn’t ended up in rehab is that she has an incredible therapist and a highly persuasive manner of dealing with her friends and family. The only reason they’ve taken that chance on her is time, and she’s grateful for that mercy.

She turns the page, hitting the final line for the third time. Chaol’s script is so good she’s read the few pages she’s been sent over and over.

She only reads scripts in physical copies, takes the time to print them out using her shitty printer that belongs right back in 2008, and she knows it’s wasteful but she allows herself that small luxury of the crisp paper in her hand as she delves into each new world. Her character is in the middle of a teary monologue that she knows exactly how she’d do, the way she’d halt her breath and choke out the words-- it’s not her character. Yet.

The audition is next week, and she’ll work her ass off to make sure she’s ready. Her usual pre-audition ritual involves taking up far too much of Lysandra’s time to practice reading the lines and filming herself time after time, take after take, and watching it back in the unholy hours of night until she’s happy she’s made an improvement.

Or at least that’s how she used to do it, nothing has made her want a role like this in a long while. She worries as she bites her lip, that wanting something this much means she’s getting over Sam. That maybe one day she won’t think of him and hear the pounding in her ears, won’t feel the lightheadedness that comes with a memory of their time together. Worries that if she forgets the sounds of his screams she’s failing him somehow.

She takes another sip of her sparkling water. It’s poured into a wine glass so she can at least pretend she’ll get the relaxation she craves. Alcohol was never one of her vices but she finds it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s unhealthy as far as coping mechanisms go, but she’s been worse so it’s going down as a win.

Chaol told her some guy called Brullo is casting this one. She’s never heard of him, which is kind of rare. She’s been on the periphery of this bubble for pretty much her entire life, following her mother around her own movie sets and sitting on the wooden directors chair when her legs still dangled off the side, but if he’s like any other casting director in Adarlan she knows how to impress him.

When she reaches the last line of the part of the script she’s been sent, her mind wanders again to Rowan Whitethorn.

He’s the kind of director up and coming actors can only hope to one day work with, even though she’s pretty sure he can’t be much more than thirty, he’s built himself to a level where he can be choosy with his projects.

It's a well deserved privilege. Each of his works has stayed with her after watching, his style is gritty and dark, but grounded in a way that leaves her empty each time after finishing.

She wants this, and she buries the guilt she feels for that. Sam would want her to want this. She deserves it, or at least she hopes she can come to.

Dorian books her a mid-morning flight so she doesn’t have to wake too early before the audition, he’s a damn good agent and one she definitely doesn’t deserve with his seemingly endless patience, but she’s continuously grateful for him.

Aelin styles herself for it, ties her hair back and leaves the makeup to a minimum in a way that she hopes shows them she’s right for the part, that she can be the insecure little girl who experiences far too much. She knows she doesn’t have the sheltered innocence the character has, but she’s an actress and this is what she does. Aelin pretends for a living.

He’s also booked her a room in a pretty nice hotel for the night, she’s not sure whether he’s used her meagre acting funds or the funds from the account she knows he mom throws money into every month. It’s an argument she and Evalin have had repeatedly, she wants to stand on her own two feet, but she never protests too hard. The account kept the roof over her head when she was too busy snorting her life away to consider where her next paycheck would come from.

Aelin throws herself backwards into the crisp white bedding on the hotel room bed and takes a deep breath. The only luggage she brought with her is a carry on slung somewhere by the door and the room feels too empty to sit here and wait for the car that’s arriving to take her to the studio in just over an hour. If she sits here and waits the nerves will only build, and then she’ll itch for something to take the edge off.

She picks her phone up to text her cousin.

Jet lag from a 2 hour flight. Who would have thought?

Aelin waits two minutes for a reply, locking and unlocking her phone as she sits there, but one doesn’t come. Aedion’s probably at a training session and not checking his phone. Aelin runs a hand through her hair, careful not to dislodge the pins she placed carefully in it this morning, she needs to stop using him as her crutch. She knows he doesn’t mind, but it’s not right either way.

She needs to get out of this room.

The streets of Rifthold are busy and crammed as she meanders down them, clutching the takeout coffee cup she bought from a vendor with a stall at the side of the road.

People pay her no mind as she walks, the oversized shades hide her eyes that she knows are a dead giveaway for her membership of the Ashryver line. Even if she didn’t wear them, everybody else here wants to be someone, and so far she can still blend in if she tries.

She sends a text to the assistant organising the audition, it’s kind of shitty of her but she keeps it brief because she can’t remember their name, letting them know the car isn’t needed anymore and that she’ll make her own way there. She needs the stroll through the streets to clear her head.

Aelin needs to nail it. She hasn’t felt the twisting of desire so sharp in her stomach for a long time and the only way she’ll manage it is with a clear head.

She alternates her breathing with sips of her coffee, the taste is bitter but she keeps drinking. She pulls her phone out to check the directions to the studio.

Spontaneous isn’t a word Aelin would use to describe herself anymore, any longing to go with the flow died the minute she lost control. It’s safer now to plan, to make sure she won’t lead herself astray.

Brullo is a man in his mid forties, with dashes of grey seasoned through his muddy brown hair, and kind lines around his eyes as he smiles and shakes her hand. Aelin wipes the sweat off her palm on her jeans before clasping her hand in his.

The audition goes about as well as she can hope for, she remembers every line, and the other casting director is fairly natural reading the lines for her to act against. Aelin swallows back her tears after she finishes, trying to keep what dignity she can to end the audition when there’s snot threatening to run down her upper lip. It was a brutal scene to start with, but if she can pull this off she can surely manage the rest.

Brullo’s expression is carefully guarded as she leaves, giving nothing away, but Aelin thinks she did a good job, which is all she could have ever hoped for.

She’s staring at the tiled floor, mulling over Brullo’s parting words, thanks Aelin, our people will be in touch, when she hits something hard and warm.

She’s too busy dissecting those eight words to register exactly who it is with their hands clamped around the top of her arms, steadying her as she stumbles, but she looks up and her gaze meets that of a pair of striking, green eyes.

The man gripping her is easily over a head taller than her, broad and strong enough that she fights back the shiver that wants to roll through her at his touch. He’s staring down at her, the strong planes of his face drawn into a deep frown, with his strangely coloured eyebrows pulled in.

They’re a kind of silver that matches his short cut hair, and it shines in the fluorescent light of the hallway in a way that it can only be natural, but she’s never seen a shade quite like it.

“Sorry,” she manages to stutter out, still thrown from the vulnerability of her audition.

“It’s alright.” His voice burns through the words, his accent rolling in a way that raises hairs down the back of her neck. He flashes her a dangerous grin and she steadies herself. She knows what that look means. She’s used to the male attention, and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she knows her looks are an element of how she’s got as far as she has. That and her family’s name.

The decision of whether to register in the guild as Aelin Ashryver or Aelin Galathynius was one she had spent hours deliberating over. Did she want the level of independence Galathynius would give her, or the reputation being an Ashryver would bring?

The man releases his grip on her shoulders, but not before running his hands down her arms until he reaches her wrists which he releases with a light squeeze. She takes an almost imperceptible step back, leaning back to breathe some air into her lungs. All she ends up doing is filling her mind with this man’s smell, inviting and intoxicating, a delicious combination of pine trees and snowy winter mornings.

“I don’t usually go around slamming into people like this,” she tells him, letting some of her snark slip through. He’s said two words to her so far but she knows he can take it, and she wants to play.

His grin becomes even more wicked and it truly is a sight to see. This man is built like a god; broad, muscular shoulders stretching the white button up he wears and she spies the dark lines of a tattoo threatening to slip past his collar.

It’s been a couple of months since her last mindless hook-up, and this man would more than do. The mischief glimmering in his eyes tells her he’d know how to make her gasp and beg.

“Slam into me anytime.” His words are a sensual croon and her mouth drops open slightly, but he sidesteps her before she can manage to speak again, nodding towards the door she’s come through. “Good luck with whatever you were here for.”

With that he’s gone, leaving her to turn and watch the way his grey slacks pull against his thighs as he walks away from her.

Aelin tries not to think too much about the outcome of the audition, and flies back to Orynth in economy class with a sleep mask tucked over her eyes lest she be recognised when all she wants to do is curl up in bed and be alone for a bit. That or get fucking wasted, and she can’t do that.

She tries far too hard to forget about the man from the hallway, forget about the way his voice had rumbled deep in her chest and the tug in her belly that his words had sent through her.

She begs Elide to come to a bar with her, and she agrees. Aelin needs to pay her more, maybe change her title from publicist to publicist-come-part-time-therapist-and-life-saver. Aelin’s not sure she has the budget for that really.

Elide would smack her if she knew Aelin’s thoughts. Would scold her for looking at Elide just like an employee as if they weren’t childhood friends and Elide hadn’t been there holding her hand through the whole Sam thing. As if she, Lysandra and Aedion hadn’t been her only reason for being here now.

A bar might be a risk, but she can sip her sparkling water while she browses the small selection of men that Orynth has to offer.

She enjoys the easy conversation she has with Elide, chatting about what their friends have been up to, even though most of them are mainly Elide’s friends at this point. After Sam she stopped speaking to everyone but those who were necessary. She couldn’t manage any more than that.

“You should come with us next time,” Elide is saying as she sips her own lemonade. Aelin knows Elide would normally choose a crisp glass of white wine over a lemonade and her sobriety solidarity touches her heart.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, noncommittal.

The look Elide wears tells her she’s debating pushing the issue for the millionth time against the risk that Aelin would pull back again. She hates that she does this to her friends so she sighs.

“Text me next time,” she tries. “I’ll see if I’m free.”

Elide offers her a thankful smile, and Aelin returns it, trying to tell herself this is what she needs and that she shouldn’t just stay locked up thinking about Sam.

There’s a dark haired guy at the bar catching her eye, his jeans are far too tight and his shirt is ridiculous, but she can see the body beneath and his face is striking. Elide notices her stare and smirks.

She likely knows why Aelin invited her out tonight, but doesn’t mind. Lorcan’s probably waiting for her at the home they share, waiting for her to come back so they can be in love. Aelin hates the bastard, except she doesn’t. She introduced her friend to the tall, dark and grouchy hockey player at the wrap party for the shit teen movie she did a couple of years back, and she’s big enough to admit she wants what they have.

She had what they have.

What’s left in her glass slips down her throat easily in one mouthful and she promises to text Elide tomorrow before slipping out of the booth and over to the guy at the bar.

“You going to just stare at me all night?” She asks with a sly smile. “Or did you plan on doing something about it at some point?”

His smile makes him look even more attractive.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move, a beautiful girl like you can be intimidating.”

It’s a shit line and she rolls her eyes, but tugs him into a cab back to her place anyway.

“Please.” Her voice shakes as she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

The man in front of them scoffs and Sam squeezes her hand, his palm rough against her own.

“Aelin, baby. It’s okay, just do what he says.”

He lets go of her hand and turns back to the guy in front of them. His face is covered by a black mask, only two slits show her the dark brown of his eyes. She can barely look away from the knife he holds out in front of himself, it’s pointed at Sam but that doesn’t make her feel any better, it makes her feel worse in fact.

“Your wallet,” the guy demands.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks, fat and hot, as she fishes around in her bag for her purse.

“Just dump the whole thing,” the guy growls, irritated, but she’s pretty sure she’s going into shock and she can’t focus. Can’t breathe.

Sam’s voice is steady by her side as he throws his own wallet onto the street in front of them.

“Alright, man. We’re doing everything you say.”

“Hands up.” The mugger’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fucking move.”

She raises her arms straight in the air, trying to control the way her hands are shaking and the attacker ducks down to grab their things.

She lets out a tiny whimper and feels Sam spin to her, his eyes begging her to trust him. No, she shakes her head.

“I said don’t fucking move,” the guy yells and lunges for Sam.

His scream cuts the night air and she whirls, hands dropping into the air between them as he drops to the ground. The mugger takes off, sprinting down the empty street and she falls to her knees by Sam’s side.

In the dark, the pool spilling out across the floor by Sam’s side just looks black, but she knows that really it’s red. She’s not stupid. His face is twisted in pain and her hands flutter around his torso before she manages to pull back the flap of his jacket.

There’s a hole in his white t-shirt and now her jeans are wet where she kneels.

She needs her phone, needs to call someone who can make this all better, but her phone is gone.

She presses her hands against his side and his eyes shutter closed as he gasps. His breathing is stuttered and uneven.

“Sam. Sam, no,” she cries. “I’ll get help. You’re okay.”

“Aelin.” He raises a hand to press against her cheek, and the blood on it is sticky and warm.

“No, Sam. No, stay with me.”

The scream that tears through her throat will hurt tomorrow but now she barely feels it. “HELP!”

His breathing becomes much quicker as she presses on his side and screams again.

She knows abstractly that she’s crying, tears and snot streaming down her face as she desperately presses her hands against his side.

There’s a strong arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Sam, and she screams one word over and over.

“No, no, no, no.”

There are people here now, leaning over Sam, leaning over his body.

“NO.”

Aelin gasps as she launches up in her bed. The sheets are stuck to her clammy skin and her head flies to the side. The guy is gone, the side of the bed he occupied when she fell asleep now cold. Good.

She lives it over and over in her dreams, sees the dark street more often than not, feels the phantom warmth of his blood down her legs. Wakes screaming herself hoarse just as she did that night. She doesn’t normally let people stay the night. Even when Aedion tried for the first few weeks after the fact, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t turn her brain off for even a second. Every time she closed her eyes she was back on that street, begging and pleading for him to open his eyes.

She grasps at her side for the switch of her bedside lamp and flicks it on. Her room is cold and empty and she hasn’t had it in her to decorate past the basics so it’s plain and impersonal when she looks around, trying to calm her breathing.

She checks the time. 6:25am. Not bad, she must have managed about six hours of sleep last night, and it’s more than she usually gets.

There're a few texts waiting in her inbox, including one from Elide, and she expects it to be a request to let her know that she got home safe but it’s not.

Call me as soon as you wake up.

Sent at 6:02am. Elide is a chronic overworker, no matter how much Aelin begs her to stick to a 9 to 5 schedule, but she couldn't imagine her friend any other way. The smiling emoji at the end of the text lets her know it’s nothing she needs to panic about, so she takes a moment to scroll through her other messages. It’s unusual for her to wake up to so many.

She clicks on her conversation with Dorian, the only message she can see, his most recent one, just says Aelin. He has sent her nine messages while she slept, and she scrolls up to reach the first one.

Aelin, you did it. You booked the Rowan Whitethorn movie.

Her heart pounds in her chest, running into overdrive as she processes the words on her screen.

She got the part. She fucking did it.

This is one of those moments she knows she’ll remember.

Dorian has forwarded over a number of contracts and official things but she ignores them in favour of dialling Elide’s number.

“Aelin!” Her friend’s voice is breathy when she answers. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, El.” A pause where she takes a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it.”

She falls back onto her mattress, pressing a fist to her lips as she smiles, eyes closed, almost giddy as she listens to her friend talk.

“They’re putting a press release out today at 12:30, announcing you and the male lead, who I haven’t found out yet but I will.”

“Oh my gods,” she sighs, covering her eyes with a clammy hand.

“I know,” Elide laughs.

She allows herself one tear as she stares up at the white of her ceiling.

This is big, she can feel it.

Later her phone buzzes as Elide sends her links to two different articles breaking the news.

Fenrys Moonbeam and Aelin Ashryver to star in new Chaol Westfall drama. More to follow.

Rowan Whitethorn signs on to direct The Crescent City, the latest project from Chaol Westfall (Throne of Glass, The King’s Hand & more).

She presses the phone to her chest as she lets out a sigh of relief.

It all moves pretty quickly from that point.

She’s on a plane back to Rifthold the next day and Chaol has sent over the whole script for her to read on the plane, bypassing Dorian completely even though that’s how it normally goes and she knows the two are like brothers.

Chaol was the one to introduce her to Dorian, and they kind of took her under their showbiz wings in the first few years she began to get really serious about acting.

They gave her the inside scoop, having been in the industry for a few more years than her. Chaol writing and making movies and Dorian doing all the background stuff like contracts and negotiations and exposure. They took her to their wrap parties that everyone knows are just networking events and introduced her to some of the big names in the industry without so much as batting an eyelid, and she knows she owes them a lot.

The script is phenomenal, and she has to try and hide the tears that form when she reaches the end, it probably wouldn’t be the best start to the project, being photographed crying on the plane on the way to start shooting. It really is some of Chaol’s best work, and she sends him a text when she lands that says fuck you, I hate it, but his reply lets her know he knows she’s joking.

It tells the story of her character, Feyre, and how she’s dragged into selling drugs to pay for her mom’s hospital bills. Along the way she meets Fenrys Moonbeam’s character, Rhysand, the glowering bad-boy who’s well established in the gang and together they see some shit and do some shit but manage to get out together. The topics are kind of cliché and over done, but Chaol has managed to add a level of originality to it that makes it really special.

It’s heavier on the romance than Rowan Whitethorn’s previous projects, but it’s gritty enough that she can see why he’s signed on. It’s going to be hard, she knows this, and it will really push her to her limits trying to embody the range of emotions her character goes through. But she wants it, and she will make her performance incredible if it fucking kills her.

There’s a niggling part of her brain that reminds her that she’s surrounded by some big names on this project, names that are big for a reason, and she can’t let them hiring her be a mistake.

She sends Chaol a follow up text, wtf are these names btw???

He ignores her.

When she’s in the car taking her to the apartment the studio is renting out for her while they film she decides to take a little trip through Instagram and look up her new co-star. Fenrys is a household name by now, a couple of years in after his debut, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about her leading man.

f.moonbeam01 comes up as the first option when the types the three letters f e n into the search bar and he has over eleven million followers.

Shit.

Not that she needs a reminder but it slaps her in the face that this is actually big. Aelin only has a few thousand followers herself and Elide has already told her to prepare herself for that to rise.

His Instagram is a mixture of mostly photos of himself, some selfies and some professional shots, and he’s obviously gorgeous. His deep brown complexion playing well against his golden curls with a straight strong nose and flawless white teeth. He’s definitely leading man material, and she can tell just how charming his grin is even through a screen.

There are also promo pictures for all the movies he’s involved in at the moment, there are at least three projects he has coming out this year. Damn.

His most recent picture is a screenshot of the article announcing their casting, and he’s actually tagged her in the photo along with Rowan himself. She hasn’t seen the tag until now, it’s normally Elide’s job as her publicist to tackle the professional side to her social media, but there’s 6.4 million likes on the photo.

Again, shit.

She can’t help herself from clicking onto Rowan’s account, rowanwhitethorn is a pretty simple handle. He only has 27 posts, most of them are behind the scenes shots from projects, one with his classic director’s chair that has his surname printed across the back in thick white lettering, and a few pictures of different cameras and pieces of equipment.

There’s only one picture of him on there, and it’s from 2017. He has his back to the camera and the sunset behind him lends a shadow that covers all of his features. Very artsy she muses to herself as she double taps the screen to like it, he probably won’t see anyway, the notification will probably get lost in the ones his account no doubt gets from his 2 million followers. The only thing she can gather from the photo about his physical appearance is that he has pretty broad shoulders.

She’s tempted to google him, wanting to know what he looks like, but she feels a bit too much like a stalker, and she knows she’ll meet him in a couple of days anyway so she leaves it and pulls up her emails to reply to the seemingly endless list of forms she has to fill out and send back to Dorian.

The apartment she’s living in for the next few months is modern and airy, with clean lines and bright decor. Aelin likes it, and while it’s not hers in the same way as her home back in Orynth, it’s far better than a hotel room that lower budget movies tend to shove actors in. Another reminder that this time is different, there’s a bigger budget than she’s used to, bigger names than she’s used to, and she can’t fuck this up. There’s more eyes on her now than ever before.

She sends Elide a picture of her new bedroom and her friend just replies with a bunch of exclamation marks and she forwards the picture across to Lysandra too. Aelin wanders through to the kitchen, wondering if anyone bothered to stock the kitchen, not that she can’t do groceries herself, it would just be nice. She’s delighted to find a fridge full of fresh produce and gets about making herself a dish of pasta and veggies.

She tucks herself in front of the big television, munching away as she watches some National Geographic documentary about whales and it helps to take her mind off the fact that this is her last night of peace for a while. She’s trying not to get too in her head about it, there’s a fine line between knowing it’s a big deal and freaking the fuck out about it, and she needs to stay on the right side of that line, needs to keep herself in check.

If she allows herself a moment to relax, a moment to sink into the situation and bask in the opportunity; she’s excited.

And depending on how well this movie does, she knows she may not have another night like this one. Somehow the thought doesn’t seem to scare her.

Lysandra calls her as she’s waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the studio, it's day one of their table read today and she’s tired. She spent all of last night tossing and turning, unable to shut her mind off and panicking over every single detail of how this day could go.

She’s lucky it’s only a table read, she’s not sure even a professional make-up artist would be able to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, you.” Lysandra’s voice is cheery through the phone and Aelin smiles, she’s really missed Lysandra and hasn’t taken nearly enough time to seek her out during her recent whirlwind. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

They had texted since the news dropped, but with Lysandra shooting a campaign for a brand she can’t remember somewhere over in the Southern Continent they haven’t had time yet for a call.

“Thanks Lys,” she says as she gets into the back of the sleek black car that the studio has sent for her, tucking her small black backpack onto the seat next to her. It’s all she can use at this point, any other bag just makes her think of that night.

“How’s it going? Have you met everyone yet?”

Lysandra runs in these circles of A list celebrities and Aelin wouldn't be surprised if she already knew Fenrys. She met Lysandra when they were teens; years before her first show for Victoria’s Secret, years before she was walking for people like Gucci and Prada, and they stayed close when they were both living off cheap ramen and thin strands of hope. Aelin likes to tease her about hanging with a lowly C-lister like herself but Lysandra is always quick to quip that she’s maybe a G-lister at a push.

That could change.

“I haven’t met anyone so far, but I’m literally on my way to meet everyone now.”

“That’s exciting, you’ll have to let me know if Fenrys Moonbeam is really that good looking in person.”

“So you don’t already know him?” she asks, teasing. Maybe Lysandra doesn’t know quite everyone.

“Oh you know, apart from every week-end when we hook-up, we’re not really that good friends.”

Aelin laughs, mostly to herself, knowing that somewhere out there that probably is a story that’s cropped up in some cheap tabloid. She knows there’s probably some dating rumours about herself and Fenrys already even though she’s still yet to meet him. It’s just how it is, she knows this, has known this since she was old enough to read the stories about her parents’ messy divorce.

“What does Aedion have to say about that, hm?”

“Oh, he joins us obviously!” Lysandra’s laugh is bright and loud through the grainy speaker.

No-one is more desperate for Aedion to propose to Lysandra than Aelin, not even the magazines, desperate for a scoop of the golden couple, quarterback for the Rifthold Ravens and the world-famous supermodel.

“I think I’ve heard enough, thanks,” Aelin laughs as the car pulls through security checks at the studio. “Lys, I have to go, I’ve just got to the studio.”

“Okay, good luck! Promise you’ll call me later though and let me know how it goes.”

She needs to make sure she puts aside a minute to catch up properly with Lysandra, she’s been slacking recently and she knows her friend misses her. She misses Lysandra too, and Aedion. Maybe she’ll stay with them for a couple of days when she gets a break from filming, she can probably see them far more often now that she’s in Rifthold too.

“I promise,” she agrees. “Tell Aedion to make sure he spoils you from me.”

Lysandra snorts, “Oh he does, I’ll pass it along anyway though.”

“Means a lot. Love you, got to go.”

Lysandra’s returning love you is sincere, but she cuts off the phone as the car comes to a stop outside the plain brick building.

She readies herself in the back of the car, pulling down a deep breath to center herself, she can do this.

The girl leading her to the room doesn’t speak other than to tell Aelin to follow right this way, and she’s grateful, she’s not sure she could speak right now without vomiting all over the dated linoleum flooring.

She needs to get a grip, and fight the urge for a hit that strikes her when she’s nervous like this. It could make her fears disappear, at least for a moment before they all came crashing back down ten-times worse the minute the high faded. There is a reason she packed that shit in, and she knows her nerves will pass. It’s been a while since she’s done any of this, her last movie read was pre-Sam and no matter how hard she tries to push it down, there’s a lot of pressure on her for this to go well.

The girl pauses outside an unassuming white door and holds a hand out to gesture for Aelin to go in. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high before she steps into the room. If all else fails she’s still Evalin Ashryver’s daughter and to some people that is something to be proud of.

Fenrys Moonbeam is the first person to catch her eye when she steps into the room, and it seems he’s done some stalking too because he ends his conversation by the food table with some others she doesn’t recognise and bounds straight over to her with a grin.

“Aelin Ashryver,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard of you. It’s a pleasure.”

“You have?” She’s both surprised and not at the same time as she holds a hand out for him to shake.

He bypasses the hand she holds out and tugs her into his chest, wrapping both arms around her and knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“I have,” he says as he bends down to pick her bag back up. “Sorry about that.”

She shakes her head. She needs to stop acting like a bewildered school girl meeting the Queen, she needs to remember that she has second billing for this movie thanks to Dorian.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin finds a smile and plasters it on.

Someone calls for everyone to take their seats and she notices the name placards spaced out in front of each chair. She locates her own and it's surreal to see her name printed there, Aelin Ashryver, between Fenrys and another actress playing her sister called Manon Blackbeak. She’s even less known than Aelin, and she only feels slightly guilty for how much that relaxes her.

Aelin knows how this goes down, they sit opposite the production team, the director and all the executive producers and she realises that she’s opposite the sign that reads Rowan Whitethorn.

She slides into her seat, Fenrys and Manon chatting over her head as she does, and she spots a male slipping into the chair opposite her. He’s wearing a slim-fit forest green henley and dark jeans, his shoulders are just as broad as they were in his Instagram photo and here there’s no shadow across his handsome features.

She can’t deny that he’s attractive, she knew it the first time she saw him. Her stare locks onto the man from the hallway after her audition and he smirks at her as if they have a secret. And maybe they do, but now she’s realising that he’s her boss, and a little voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Elide is whispering to her that opportunities like this don’t come around everyday.

She owes it to Sam and she owes it to herself not to fuck this up, but the look that Rowan Whitethorn is sending her across the table makes her think she could risk it all.

It takes them three hours to run through it in full, and she’s happy to see she’s not the only one with a tear in her eye at the end. Rowan doesn’t cry, but he hasn’t looked at her since before they started and each time she read a line she avoided looking at him. She knows there were a couple of times where he nodded along with her expression of the lines. She’s ignoring it.

This is what she lives to do, they’re not even filming yet and she feels like she’s right where she needs to be. It’s cliche but she breathes easier when she acts, the air feels lighter when she takes on a new personality and feels all the things she’s told to feel.

It takes away the restlessness she feels when it’s all just down to her, being told how to feel is far easier.

Her therapist tells her she has both anxiety and PTSD, but she feels like giving it a name doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She knows a diagnosis can be a relief for some, but to Aelin, what she feels is far too messy to be summed up in four letters. Her life has simply become the before, and the after, even though what each of those contains is a complete fucking shit show.

There are two Aelins; pre that night and post that night.

The Aelin from before that night doesn’t exist anywhere but in her own memory.

Once the run through is completed and basic notices are given by the producers, things like call sheet distributions and health and safety, the occupants of the room begin to mingle. She sees him make a beeline for her, and she swallows. She’s not ready for this.

“You look surprised to see me.” His voice is as hot as it was the last time she saw him, the slight rasp in his throat and his accent. Gods, the accent.

“You don’t look too surprised to see me.” She tilts her head at him because she feels way thrown off, like he has all the power here. Which he does. But like, she can play it cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Maybe had a little google search?”

He shakes his head at her, biting his lip kind of like he wants to laugh, and she bristles. She needs to level the playing field.

“Says you.” He’s definitely laughing now. “I saw you liked my photo last night.”

“What about it?” She shrugs, hoping her acting skills are up to it. He only tilts his head to the side as he takes her in.

“Do you think I didn’t know who you were in the corridor? I’m the director.” And fuck him for saying it like that, full of an easy confidence that in any other situation would have had heat pooling in the floor of her stomach. “Brullo discussed the casting with me.”

Right. Of course.

She’s not sure what to say next. Honestly? She kind of wants to flirt with him, but fuck.

Instead she hums a laugh, not really caring whether he thinks it’s sincere or not, and looks absentmindedly around the room instead of back up at him. He reaches a hand out to brush his fingers down her arm, looping them round the bones of her wrist and squeezing slightly like he did the last time before letting go. Her eyes snap back to his.

“Just between you and me?” he asks and the smile he wears is far too hot for her to deal with right now. “I think we made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says, but it’s a little too breathy. A little too dazed for having spent such a short amount of time in his presence. She’s aware that she needs to be careful, they are very much not alone in this room right now, and she doesn’t need to start any rumours that would destroy her chances of escaping this without a scandal.

She’s here to do a job, and she’s going to do it well. She doesn’t need any distractions.

He leaves her soon after that, and his parting remark of “have a good first day, Aelin” sticks with her, and she tries not to replay the way his voice had wrapped around her name.

Manon Blackbeak is watching them from across the room, and she arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Aelin. She ignores her; let her think what she wants, she’s surely professional enough not to gossip to any press, and stomps over to where Fenrys is chatting with one of the producers. It seems like a good enough place to start.

#rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #nobody does it like you do #ndilyd #im so nervous to post this lol #hope you all enjoy #cw: past drug abuse #cw: minor character death #cw: violence

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luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Theory into Practice

☼ Pairing: Yoonji x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), teeny bit of angst, f2l, college au (technically more so grad school au)

☼ Count: 10.2K

☼ Warnings: 18+, drug use (pot), mentions of alcohol use, threesome, dom!Yoonji, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, one thigh smack, thigh riding, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), face sitting, unprotected (pls stay safe), aftercare

☼ Summary: A normal night in with Yoonji leads to some interesting revelations with her and surprisingly, Jungkook.

☼ a/n: lmao it’s been a while. Hope you enjoy the Yoonji thirst, my girl doesn’t have enough fics out there. Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~

———

“Who of our friends do you think is the subbiest?”

You blink. It’s really a testament to how much you and Yoonji have smoked tonight that your immediate reaction isn’t to splutter at her question. Instead, you just blink slowly, the question slowly making its way through your synapses before you can articulate a response. You take another hit, using it to buy yourself a little more time. Holding the joint back out to her, you let the smoke slowly seep from your lips.

“Who says I’ve thought about it?”

You know exactly who you want to be subbiest. But you’re not going to reveal that. Maybe not yet. You might be high, but you still have enough of your wits to keep from spilling things you want to keep hidden. You’ve had good practice at that, smoking often with her and never divulging your crush, even when the topic of partners has come up. Which does come up fairly often as you both attempt to navigate dating while in grad school.

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch and Yoonji’s head lulls against the back of it so she can fix you with hazy, unimpressed eyes, though there’s a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. “I didn’t. But we’re talking about it now.”

Pursing your lips, you think of how to respond. In truth, you’ve thought about it a little, but not particularly in relation to your whole group of friends. Maybe just a person or two who you were particularly interested in that are in said friend group. Most notably, the women sitting on the other end of the couch from you currently.

Yoonji laughs, foot kicking out to nudge you, and you grin at the flood of happiness that always accompanies hearing her laugh. “Damn, it’s not that deep. Why are you thinking so hard?”

Catching her foot, you dig your thumb into the sole of her foot, causing you both to dissolve into giggles. “We have a lot of friends,” you shoot back. An excuse and you both know it.

You and Yoonji have been friends for too long for you to really be able to avoid answering a direct query. It’s only been luck that has kept your crush hidden from her. You’ve been friends since you met in 2nd year of undergrad, paired randomly as roommates and then continuing to remain roommates until even now when you live off campus in an apartment together. And many of your friends have come together and you both now share a common friend group.

Once Yoonji wrestles her foot free of your tickling grasp, she shifts in her seat, face far more serious than the topic at hand should really call for. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your excuse,” she gives you a look that’s hard to interpret, though you mostly just don’t want to think too hard about the calculating look she’s giving you. It leaves you feeling exposed, like she can read your thoughts and knows all of your deepest secrets. Which is partially true, you and Yoonji share everything, save your feelings for her. “Which way do you think Jimin goes?”

She’s really going to make you do this? Well, you might as well give some actual thought to this. “With his praise kink? Definitely more sub leaning?”

Yoonji raises an eyebrow. “Leaning?”

“Well yeah. He’s definitely a switch. You’ve seen how he is when he’s focused. But he also likes helping others. Plus,” you pause, mostly just to be dramatic as you smirk knowingly, Yoonji leaning closer as she waits for what you’re going to say next, “Siyeon said he’s as good a dom as he is a sub.”

Scoffing, Yoonji reaches over to give you a little shove. “That’s cheating!”

You giggle, catching her hand before she pushes again. “It’s not!”

“It is! That’s insider information! This is supposed to be our opinion.”

Waving her off, you settle back onto the couch. “I gave my opinion. I would’ve had that before Siyeon told me. All she did was confirm.” You pause thoughtfully for a moment. You don’t want this to be all you, so you pose the next friend to her instead. “What about Seokjin?”

Yoonji drums her fingers on her bare thigh and you have to fight the urge to get lost in staring at the vast expanse of smooth, exposed skin she’s subjecting you to tonight while you’re impaired like this. You want to know if they’re as soft as they look. You know her hands aren’t, not anymore since she started learning guitar, finger’s growing rough and calloused. The first time she had held your hand after had startled you, now you love feeling the slight roughness brush against your skin. Dragging your gaze from her fingers to her face, you watch as she starts to speak, trying to remain focused on her words and not the way her pretty pink lips form them.

“As much as I’d love to say sub because he would be just absolutely gorgeous all tied up and begging. I think he’s a bit more dom-ish.”

Mulling it over for a moment, you nod. He likes caring for all your friends, you can certainly see that transferring over into the bedroom. You add, “Yeah… But like, a soft one, ya know? He’d be so gentle and caring about it. I bet his aftercare game is amazing.”

Shifting, Yoonji stretches her legs out and echoes your thoughts. “Definitely. You’ve seen the way he cares for all of us, but definitely the younger guys. He’d be so amazing at that. What about Taehyung?”

“Hm, a dom. Maybe a little less gentle than Seokjin, but still a soft-ish dom. Namjoon?”

“Dom leaning switch. Sometimes he just really needs to get out of his head and let go of control. Hoseok?”

“Straight up switch. I think he probably doms more often but he’s all too happy to go with whatever his partner is in the mood for. Jungkook?”

Yoonji’s face lights up. “Oh,” she coos. “The sweetest sub ever.”

You stare at the way her eyes seem to glaze over with her words and something like jealousy swirls with heat in your belly. You can’t tell if the spike of jealousy is about the way she sighed her answer so sweetly, like she’s thought a lot about this. Or if it’s because you have the same thoughts and some part of you feels possessive over Jungkook. “Why’s that?”

She shoots you a coy smile that leaves you feeling slightly uneasy. “He’s just such a sweet boy and always so eager to please.”

You can’t deny that you’ve also thought that, dreamed that were true. You’ve heard rumors of how Jungkook is in bed. Domineering, cocky, rough. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining him beneath you, whimpering and begging. Yoonji nudges you and you blink at her, realizing that you must’ve zoned out for a moment. She purses her lips, barely hiding her knowing smile.

“One more,” she declares.

Frowning, you think through your shared friends, but can’t imagine who she might be referring to. “Who?”

Her answering smirk has your heart stuttering in your chest, equal parts dreading what’s about to come out of her mouth and anticipating. “Me.”

You swallow. She’s really going to make you answer that to her face? While you’re both high? You chew your lip, looking her over slowly. You know exactly how she leans, the benefit and downside to living together for so long. The words stick in your throat though, not quite able to bring yourself to voice your knowledge. To give yourself away like that, to show just how much you’ve paid attention. Yoonji says nothing though, looking at you expectantly as she waits for your answer.

Taking a deep breath, you rationalize that this is just a game. You’re just giving opinions. It doesn’t have to be incriminating to anything deeper. You just won’t give reasons, just an answer which way she leans. “Dom.”

She grins, looking pleased with your answer. “You too.”

“What?” you blink at her, confused by what she means.

“I think you’re a dom too.”

Your breath catches. You hadn’t thought about the fact that if you knew her preferences then she likely knew yours well. You’ve both talked about your sex lives with each other, but you’ve never delved deeply into what happens when you’re in your room with others. Staring at each other, your mind races. How much has she heard? How much does she truly know? Her gaze drops to your lips for a moment.

But before the conversation can go any further, there’s a knock at the door. The tension that built between the two of you suddenly breaks as Yoonji crows happily, jumping from her seat to go retrieve the food you’d ordered. Burying your face in your hands, you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your thoughts under control. You really can’t be sitting here, high and horny and thinking about Yoonji and Jungkook. Especially not while one of those people is sitting here with you.

By the time she’s back with food, you’ve got your tangled thoughts mostly controlled and the previous conversation isn’t brought up again. Yoonji complains about something Namjoon did while they were studying earlier in the day and then you’re both complaining about school and theses and classes and thoughts on doms and subs is forgotten about entirely. And you’re all too happy to just forget it happened at all.

At least for the most part. You can’t help it if in the late hours of night, when exhaustion reigns and sleep eludes you, if you let your thoughts slip to less pure things as you hand slips into your panties. If when you’re alone, you think of you and Yoonji knelt over Jungkook as his big, shiny eyes shine brighter with overwhelmed tears and begs his noonas to let him cum. You don’t let it leave those times though, left in the dark and forgotten in the daylight hours. You ignore the thoughts when you go to lunch with Jungkook, have dinner with all your friends, go grocery shopping with Yoonji, let yourself act as if that conversation never happened.

You assume Yoonji has forgotten it too. Or at least chosen to leave that conversation with that night.

Until you come home from buying snacks one night for the weekly smoking session to find Jungkook there too. Which in and of itself isn’t too strange. While you and Yoonji are the primary partakers of this night, all of your friends rotate in and out when the mood strikes. Most of the others usually go out drinking. Or study. And everyone rotates between the three activities with whatever strikes their mood (or is required by their grades).

But Jungkook had said earlier in the day that he was going out with Tae and Jimin. He’s not even dressed for it, like he was just stopping by for a moment and then going to meet up with the others. Instead dressed comfortably in loose gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt, his blond hair still slightly damp from a shower under the hood he still has pulled up.

You give him a smile as you set the snacks on the coffee table and move to sit on the couch. “I thought you were going out to drink?”

Jungkook shuffles from foot to foot nervously, glancing from you to Yoonji, who’s sat on the other side of the couch. “I uh… changed my mind?”

You frown, unsure of his odd behavior. He’s acting as if he’s never been to your apartment before, despite the fact that besides the two of you, he’s here the most. But Yoonji simply beckons him to sit, which he does so after a moment of hesitation, nervously tugging his hood off his head. Once he sits, you expect Yoonji to pull out a blunt and get the night started, but the silence stretches and she makes no moves to do so. You reach out to nudge her, head tilted questioningly.

She gives you a quick glance before looking at Jungkook. “I have a proposition. For you both.” Brows furrowing, you’re about to question her when she continues. “Your noonas have a little theory they’d like to test.”

Your heart stops. There’s only one possible thing she could be talking about that would involve both a proposition and a theory that you both had. Is she just planning to ask him? But that wouldn’t involve a proposition…

Oh.

She’s planning to ask him to let you both dom him. Stomach knotting uncomfortably, you worry that this could ruin the friendship the three of you share. That it could ruin the entire friendship dynamic of the whole group. You could lose a roommate, friends. But even with the bad scenarios running through your mind, you can’t deny the bolt of heat that sears straight to your core at even the barest hint of possibility of getting the pretty boy before you underneath you instead.

Jungkook swallows, gaze darting from Yoonji to you and back. You wonder what Yoonji said to him to get him to come tonight. “What… What’s the theory?”

She gives a soft smile, but there's a predatory edge to it. You’ve seen it on her when you’ve gone to bars and clubs, wielded against unsuspecting people that she wants to spend the night with. You’ve seen the effects of that look on people and Jungkook is no different, already looking like he’s hooked on her every word, even if there’s still a touch of nerves in the tense line of his shoulders. She gestures for Jungkook to move from the chair to sit between you both on the couch. He hesitates before shuffling the short distance to sit where directed. You can’t help but note that he’s good at following instructions. It makes something hot twist in your belly.

Yoonji shifts, kneeling on the cushion so she can press closer to Jungkook, close enough to whisper in his ear, though her tone is loud enough for you to hear too. “Your noonas have a theory that you are just the sweetest little sub ever.”

Jungkook tenses up at the words, and though it’s hard to tell if it’s from discomfort or just shock at Yoonji’s bold statement, you slide closer to be a reassuring hand to counterpoint Yoonji’s boldness.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, Jungkook, just tell us. We don’t want to cause you any discomfort, okay?” you murmur soothingly, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Yoonji peaks around to give you a grateful smile, although you’re unsure if it’s because you are joining her in her proposition or if it’s because you know enough to ensure that Jungkook’s comfort is the most important thing here.

Thinking for a moment, Jungkook gives a small nod and Yoonji takes that as her sign to continue. “Would you let your noonas find out if they’re right?”

“B-both of you?” he swallows, gaze darting between the two of you.

Leaning closer, you let your lips brush his ear, relishing the shiver you feel run through him. “Your noonas have seen the way you look at them when we dance together on nights out.”

He stiffens beneath you and you pull back just enough to see the flush starting to color his cheeks. In truth, you know he’s not the only one that does. Jimin and Taehyung fairly regularly comment on how you both steal the show. And you and Yoonji aren’t blind, you know the way you both captivate an audience when you’re together, dressed up and putting on a show just for the thrill. But you’ve definitely caught Jungkook staring the most. Eyes hooded and lips parted like you and Yoonji are there solely for his entertainment. The way you’ve seen him have to restrain himself from approaching the both of you. It’s even more thrilling than the eyes of strangers on you.

Yoonji coos. “Do you like watching your noonas together, baby?”

She doesn’t allow him a chance to answer though because as soon as the question has been asked, she’s nudging him back so he’s more reclined, leaving the two of you staring at each other over his chest. A moment passes, where you just stare at each other, as Jungkook looks between you both.

There’s a wry twist to her lips and then she’s reaching out to pull you in for a kiss. The sudden press of her soft lips to yours has your brain short circuiting. All thought and reason leaving you, focus narrowed entirely down to the pressure of her mouth on yours. She tastes like strawberry and the sudden, lightest brush of her tongue across your lip has your brain kick starting again just as she starts to pull away. That simply won’t do. Hand tangling in her hair, you keep her close, keep the kiss going as you deepen it and you relish the slick slide of her tongue against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing her so much, but it’s nothing compared to reality. Yoonji is demanding, just as demanding as you are, and there are moments where the kiss turns a little rougher as one of you tries for the upper hand. It’s addicting, the feel of her, the rush, that you get lost in the kiss. So much so, that you entirely forget about Jungkook beneath you until he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling away from Yoonji, you both glance down at him and you nearly coo at the sight. He looks much like he does on nights that you’ve caught him watching you dance. But up close like this, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his tongue darts out occasionally to lick at his pink, bitten lips, how blown his eyes are already and he hasn’t even been touched yet.

Disentangling yourself from Yoonji, you run an affectionate hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Do you want this, baby?” When he starts to nod again, you tighten your hand in his hair, halting his movement. “We need your words, Jungkook.”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, eyes darting down in embarrassment before trying again. “Yes, noona. Want this… Want you both…”

Pleased, you let your hand drift down, cupping his cheek and thumbing gently along his cheekbone. “Yeah? Have you thought about this a lot? Have you thought about your noonas often?”

Swallowing, his gaze darts between the two of you nervously. And oh, you had just been teasing. But the nervous flit of his gaze, the way he won’t focus on either of you for longer than a moment. He has thought about the two of you. You wonder what he’s thought about, for how long. Has he touched himself while thinking about one of you? Both of you? Yoonji seems to pick up on the implication of his nonanswer too, because her lips are curling into a teasing smirk.

“Have you, baby? What a naughty boy. Thinking about your noonas like that.” Jungkook squirms, mouth open like he’s about to protest the statement, but Yoonji continues speaking. “Noona has too. Thought about how pretty you’d look and how good you’d be.”

Jungkook falters, blinking big eyes up at Yoonji with wonder. Like he never imagined that either of you would think of him the way he thinks of you. A breath shudders out of him as his eyes squeeze closed. You make the decision to move this from the couch if you’re going to go through with it.

Shifting, you push yourself to your feet, glancing at Yoonji to see that she follows your actions with a questioning furrow to her brows. Jungkook blinks his eyes open at the movement, blinking up at you both. You hold your hand out and after a moment, he takes it. Pulling him to his feet, Yoonji grabs his other hand and takes charge in leading Jungkook down the hall to her bedroom.

The air in Yoonji’s room feels thick with heat. She flips a light on, letting soft, purple light fill the room and leaving it cast in subdued shades. You both release Jungkook’s hands, moving in near perfect synchronicity despite the fact that you’ve never done this before. There’s something unspoken that moves you both together. Standing side by side, you both face Jungkook, gazes slowly trailing over the younger man. He shuffles on his feet under the scrutiny, hands clasping in front of him like he’s a child about to be scolded.

Yoonji’s head tilts, finger coming up to tap her chin in thought. “Something seems wrong here, doesn’t it?”

Humming, you nod in agreeance. “Yes, yes it does. Jungkook,” the boy starts at the call of his name, head jerking up to stare at you, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Yoonji snaps her fingers. “You’re right. Jungkook, baby, strip for your noonas.”

“N-now?” His fingers twitch where they’re clasped before him.

It’s cute how shy he has become. You’ve seen him shamelessly strip his shirt off at parties to do body shots, confidently pick up women at bars, boldly barge into rooms and capture everyone’s attention. You’ve only seen him this shy once, and that was when you all had first met him, before he had come out of his shell and grown close to you all.

When he makes no move to start undressing, you speak up. “Jungkook,” you wait until he’s looking at you. “Do you know the stoplight system?” He thinks for a moment before nodding, face clouded with confusion. “Color?”

Gaze darting from you to Yoonji and back again, his tongue peaks for a moment. “Green.”

Yoonji grins proudly at the answer. “Aw, are you just shy then, baby? Nervous about being naked in front of your noonas for the first time?”

Ducking his head, Jungkook gives you both a quick nod that you just want to coo over, however inappropriate that reaction may be right now be damned. Instead, you shoot for comforting. “How about we start slow then? Just your shirt. You can do that, can’t you, baby? We’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times before.”

Jungkook fidgets for another moment before his fingers grip the edge of his baggy sweater. Eyes squeezing shut, there’s only only a second more of hesitation before the sweater is being pulled up and off. He clings to it, the fabric hanging in his hands in front of his chest, but doing very little to hide anything. He peaks an eye open and sees the way Yoonji quirks an eyebrow at him and the sweater drops from his hands to the floor.

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times. Your entire friend group has. There was a period of a few months back towards the beginning of your friendship after he had gotten comfortable with you all that you would’ve sworn that he was allergic to shirts with how often you saw him shirtless. You know how toned he is, have been subjected to his ridiculous workouts on occasion, how diligently he works out simply for the fun of it. Muscles that shift under golden skin that you’ve seen at parties and on beach trips, that you’ve allowed yourself to glance out, appreciate and take in, but never to stare for too long and get caught.

Now though, you drink your fill of the sight before you. Jungkook is tall, and when he’s shirtless he exudes a cockiness born from the hungry looks of others; his posture always making him seem taller, take up more space. But now, now his shoulders are hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, seem less big even though his muscles make that nearly impossible.

He glances up at you both through the curtain of blonde bangs and you can see the way the flush from his cheeks starts to spread down his neck and chest. It makes you itch to mark the pretty skin up, stake a claim on the sweet, shy boy before you.

There’s a pleased hum from beside you. “Such a good boy, Jungkookie. You’re so good for your noonas, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, eyes positively shining at the praise. Well, you both certainly pegged that one right. Oh, now there’s an idea. That might have to wait though. You don’t want to completely overwhelm him right at the start.

“Now the pants, baby,” you grin, watching the way he swallows at the command.

Hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, his nerves seem to grow now that he’s about to be fully exposed before you both. He takes a deep breath and then shoves his sweats and underwear down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat and you know Yoonji must be having a similar reaction given the sharp inhale you hear from her.

Jungkook is absolutely stunning naked. You’ve known that his thighs were thick and just as toned as the rest of him, catching glimpses of the thick, corded muscles whenever he ditched sweats and his baggier clothing for jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto him. His hands immediately come together again in an attempt to cover his cock, already hard and leaking. But his hands do little to cover his long, thick cock, but it’s endearingly adorable that he tries.

“So pretty,” you murmur, eyes tracing over every inch of skin. You don’t know what you want to do first to him, so many ideas flash through your mind as you stare at him.

“So good, too. Can you lay down on the bed for us now, baby?”

Shyness seemingly forgotten for a moment, Jungkook nearly launches himself onto the bed, landing with a little bounce before he’s shuffling around so he’s stretched out in the middle of Yoonji’s bed. His eagerness is a good sign, showing that even if he’s nervous, that he very much wants to be here. The dark bedspread makes his skin seem to glow more and he looks absolutely gorgeous spread out for you.

Yoonji moves closer to the bed and you move to follow suit and stand beside her at the foot, both of you just taking a moment to look at Jungkook. His cock twitches where it rests against his belly and heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that it’s yours to touch. At least for tonight.

She turns to you then, hands landing on your hips to pull you closer. Chewing her lip for a moment, there’s an emotion that briefly flits across her face but before you can pin down what exactly it is she’s leaning in to press her lips to yours once again. Not letting yourself dwell on her expression, at least not now when there’s a very eager boy spread out for you both and Yoonji’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You can overthink later. Right now, you should just let yourself fall into the feel of her.

Her fingers dig into your hips and you let her get away with it only because you take the opportunity to slip your hands beneath her shirt, gripping her waist just as tightly for a moment before you’re tugging her shirt up and off. Kiss momentarily broken, you take the brief pause to look her over. Her bra is black and lacy, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes you want to get your mouth on them . You also know for a fact that it’s her ‘getting laid’ bra. Meaning she must have been pretty confident that the two of you would agree to this. You’re a little mad that she didn’t give you any sort of heads up to let you wear something better than just a comfy, colorful bra you use for daily wear. At least it’s cute.

Leaning in, you nip harshly at her bottom lip in retaliation and you know by her giggle that she knows exactly what it was for. What a cruel tease, you’re definitely going to get her back in the future. You don’t know how just yet, but you will. You sooth the bite with your tongue, but you don’t get a chance for another proper kiss because Yoonji takes the opportunity to tug your shirt off as well. She pulls away after dropping your shirt to the floor, hungrily eyeing you up as her tongue wets her lips. You feel a heady rush at being able to pull such a look from the typically collected Yoonji.

A moan pulls your attention back to the bed, where Jungkook has taken it upon himself to start lazily stroking himself, muscles shifting as his hips flex up into his grip. Exchanging glances, you and Yoonji quickly rid yourselves of your bottoms before climbing onto the bed on either side of Jungkook. This behavior simply won’t do.

Sitting on your knees beside his thigh, you're quick to let your hand smack against the skin there. The sound echoes in the quiet room and Jungkook jerks, though you don’t know if it’s more from the sudden sound or the heat that blooms across his thigh even if the smack you gave him was fairly mild in terms of punishment. But it has the desired effect, his hand halting on his cock, though he doesn’t remove his hand from himself. His expression morphs into a mix of betrayal and confusion.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Yoonji coos, hand wrapping around his wrist. “Have you ever done this before?”

Swallowing, he looks nervous again, gaze darting around the room, but never landing on either of you before he minutely shakes his head. Yoonji gently pulls his hand from his cock, letting it slap wetly against his belly.

“Aw, you poor thing. Have you always had to be the one in charge, huh? Do those girls see your big, pretty muscles and tattoos and just assume that you’re going to be domineering too? No one’s ever taken care of you like you deserve?” Yoonji murmurs, eyes burning as she speaks.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he blinks up at Yoonji. He shakes his head slightly and you can see how deeply he wants this. Wants to try, to let go and have someone else take control for once. Letting your fingers trail up his thigh, you trace a single fingertip up his cock with a featherlight touch, drawing a delightful gasp from him. He’s so sensitive to touch, it’s going to make this so much more fun.

“Lesson number one, baby. No touching without permission. That includes your pretty little cock. Bad boys get punished.”

“And punishment can get much worse than a little slap on the thigh, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know!”

Shushing him, you rub soothingly at the red mark you left on his thigh. It’s light and fairly small, a testament to how tame the smack was, but it makes you want to leave more, make them darker. Marks that remain for days, that remind Jungkook of your hands on him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re still learning. You won’t be punished.” You smirk teasingly. “This time at least.”

Licking his lips, he looks between you both. You can tell he’s thinking about something, but you can’t tell if the thought of punishment might actually be enticing to him or if he’s trying to figure out the rules without being told. Always the overachiever.

Yoonji releases his hand, letting it fall to rest against the bed once more. “We’ll go easy on you, baby, don’t worry. You’ll be a good boy for us, won’t you?” Jungkook nods quickly, hands clenching at the bedspread. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want…” he licks his lips, seems to think slowly over his wants in this moment. “Wanna see you kiss again.”

You giggle. “Aw, sweet thing,” you glance over at Yoonji, “doesn’t even want a kiss for himself.”

Yoonji tsks, wide grin matching yours. “Someone must really enjoy watching.”

Planting a hand high on Jungkook’s thigh, Yoonji mirrors your actions as you both lean closer to meet over Jungkook once more. This kiss is slow, you take your time and enjoy the feel of her soft mouth against yours. You could easily get lost in the kiss again, it would be so easy. Jungkook’s thigh twitches beneath your hand and you give him a small squeeze, acknowledge that you haven’t forgotten about him and it draws a soft moan from him.

The sound seems to spark something in Yoonji, as she surges closer, deepening the kiss. Her free hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw. Not wanting to be outdone, you reach out and let your fingers trace her collarbone before following her sternum down until you can palm at one of her covered breasts. That draws a soft gasp from her that you greedily swallow down.

Her hand tightens on your neck, pulling like it’s possible to pull you closer and her other hand abandons Jungkook’s thigh to grope at your breast. You both get greedy for the feel of each other. Your hand quickly leaves Jungkook’s thigh as well, slipping behind Yoonji to undo her bra. It falls slack on her shoulders, hindered from coming off by her hands on you. Bumping her hands off for a moment, you tug the offending article free from her and toss it off the bed. Yoonji wastes no time in getting her hands back on you once you’ve removed the bra and you’re now free to palm her tits in your hands.

Jungkook whimpers below you both, his hand bumps your thigh before it’s being jerked away. “N-noona…”

Parting with a gasp, you both look down at Jungkook, his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles nearly white. Your hands fall from each other as you give the prone man your attention. You’re impressed with his restraint, you hadn’t expected him to be so well behaved the very first time. But that’s actually pretty typical of Jungkook, excelling at anything he tries.

His pupils are blown with lust and he swallows his nerves as he speaks. “C-can… Can I touch too?”

“You wanna touch your noonas while they kiss, baby?” Yoonji asks. He nods, eyes wide and Yoonji’s answering smirk is bordering on mean. “Why?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you want to touch your noonas while they kiss, baby? I thought you just wanted us to kiss and touch each other?”

He looks to you, seemingly lost by the question. But you simply raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. He squirms a little, cock twitching. “Um… I… I…”

“Have you thought about touching us before?” you murmur, reaching out to cup Yoonji’s breast, thumbing at the nipple and drawing a sigh from her. “Have you thought about noona’s pretty tits and how they’d feel in your hands?”

Whining, Jungkook nods his assent eagerly, eyes fixed firmly on where your hand plays with Yoonji. Yoonji presses a quick kiss to your lips, casting a teasing look to Jungkook before she’s reaching up to unclasp your bra and tug it off of you to toss it behind her. Yoonji raises herself up onto her knees, pulling you with, and she leans you both together until your breasts press together. They’re just as soft against you as they were in your hands. If you weren’t focused on teasing Jungkook, you’d pin her down and get your mouth on them.

She glances to the side to look at Jungkook. “How do you wanna touch, baby?”

His eyes drag down your bodies slowly, gaze darting so quickly like there’s so much he wants to touch and he doesn’t know where to even begin. “Noona…” he whines.

You chuckle. “Aw, baby. Do you need your noonas to help you?”

“Please.”

“Put your hands on our hips.”

He’s eager and quick to comply, hands coming up to rest hot and heavy against the curve of your hip. His fingers flex against you, like he wants to move his hand to touch more but they remain in place. Yoonji leans in to kiss you again and you think you could kiss her forever. After a moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along her jaw and down her neck. Laving your tongue over her pulse point, you relish the shiver that runs through her. You’re overcome with the urge to mark her and so you let your teeth sink into her skin before soothing it with your tongue and sucking kisses. Yoonji groans in the back of her throat and you move down her neck to suck another dark mark and draw more noises from her.

You know logically that she’s been as affected by all this as you, but hearing the proof is intoxicating. It goes straight to your pussy and the longer you go on, the more you feel drip from you to soak your panties.

“What do you want next, baby?” Yoonji pants, hand reaching to cover the hand on your hip. His gaze drops to where your breasts are pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you wanna touch noonas’ tits? Greedy boy,” she chuckles breathlessly, ending in a gasp when you nip at her collarbone.

His hands twitch against you like he is fighting the urge to just do what he wants, to do what he’s always done with women. But he remains diligent and keeps his hands where he was told too. Pressing one last kiss to Yoonji’s neck, you pull away, staring at the darkening marks while a possessive heat curls in your belly. You shift then, nudging Jungkook’s thighs slightly apart and then you’re throwing a leg over to straddle his thigh, dropping down to press your clothed pussy against the corded muscle. The damp material drags deliciously against your pussy and any other time, you would ride his thigh until he was begging you to touch him or let him touch.

Gasping, Jungkook’s hand tightens enough to bruise and you grin down at him. “Can you feel how wet noona is for you, baby?”

He nods a little dazedly, looking down where you’re pressed against his thigh like he can’t believe what he’s feeling or seeing. Giving a little grind, you feel a rush of desire run through you at the breath that rushes from Jungkook’s lips.

“Baby,” you purr, “didn’t you want to touch noona’s tits?”

“Please…”

“Go ahead, baby.”

His hand quickly abandons your hip once he’s given permission; big, warm palm cupping one of your breasts like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You have to fight down the urge to giggle at the unexpected tenderness. Yoonji moves beside you, straddling Jungkook’s other thigh and she takes the opportunity to move Jungkook’s other hand for him, placing it over one of her breasts.

Gaze darting from one hand to the other, his hands remain frozen for a long moment before he’s tentatively squeezing. Then he quickly grows more confident, seemingly more familiar with at least this part as his fingers tease at your nipple. Leaning slightly to the side, you press a kiss to Yoonji’s shoulder until you have her attention and then you’re pressing your lips to hers once more. Letting your hand slip into her hair, you tilt her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand lands on your waist, fingers tracing a burning path down until they can grope at your ass.

Your hips jerk, clit dragging across Jungkook’s thigh and a moment later, you feel his muscles shift as he flexes. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you glance down at him with a smirk. Jungkook looks perfectly debauched beneath you both. The flush dusting his cheeks stretches down his chest, his bright eyes burn with want as his hands work on both you and Yoonji. His cock rests heavy against his belly, tip dark with neglect, but he seems wholly oblivious to it even as your attention zeroes in on it.

“What a good boy you’re being. Giving noona something to grind against?”

His dick twitches at that and you let a finger brush gently down the length. A loud gasp leaves his lips, hips straining upward but he can’t get very far with the combined weight of you and Yoonji pinning his legs down. You give a deliberate grind down, Jungkook’s eyes quickly zeroing in on where your clothed pussy meets his bare thigh. Hands falling still on your breast, he licks his lips before his hand is slowly sliding down to timidly tug at the waistband of your panties.

“Can… Can these come off?”

Yoonji hums. “Wanna see noona’s bare pussy, baby?”

Nodding quickly, he looks up at you both with wide eyes. “Yes, please. Wanna see.”

The hand on your ass slides around to rest just on the waistband of your panties. “You wanna see just how wet our pretty baby boy has made us?”

Breath shuddering, he nods again, eyes trained on Yoonji’s hand as it finally slips into your panties. You groan as her fingers slip between your folds, fingertips teasing across your clit before dipping lower to gather your wetness. Before she can do much more than leave a few teasing touches, she’s pulling her hand from your panties and holding her hand up for you all to see. Jungkook’s gaze bores into the glistening digits, licking his lips slowly.

“Open,” she commands and his mouth falls obediently open, hope shining in his eyes when her fingers inch closer to his lips. “Do you want to taste noona?”

“Yes,” he breaths out, tongue extending like it’ll get Yoonji’s fingers to his mouth faster.

She stops just before she reaches his tongue and when he strains closer in an attempt to touch, she pulls her fingers away, keeping them teasingly just out of his reach. “Answer noona’s question first, baby. Good boy’s always answer when asked a question. And you wouldn’t want to be bad, now would you?”

Blonde hair flies as he quickly shakes his head no. “No! I’m good! I promise! Please, I wanna taste noona!”

Yoonji’s smile softens. “What a good boy.”

With that, her fingers press against his tongue. Moaning, Jungkook’s lips close around the digits as he sucks enthusiastically. You wonder if he’s as enthusiastic when he’s eating someone out and your pussy clenches at the thought. A few moments later, she pulls her fingers free and Jungkook’s lips purse in a pout, drawing a laugh from both of you. You shift, finally tugging your panties down to discard over the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes are drawn back to your pussy, now bared for him to see.

His hand twitches where it rests against your hip, but it doesn’t move and there’s a rush of heat that accompanies the fact that he’s doing so well already. Turning to Yoonji, you begin to tug at her panties, earning a laugh from her as she moves to help you get them off of her.

As much as you want to take in Jungkook’s reaction to you both being naked before him, you can’t stop the greedy part of you that reaches out to slip your hand between her legs to touch. A soft sigh leaves her lips and you can’t help but lean in to smother the sound with a kiss. Your fingers find her just as wet as you are yourself and you relish in the moment to tease your fingers along her pussy.

Whining, Jungkook squirms beneath you both, thigh inadvertently bumping your hand harder against Yoonji and further smearing her wetness across your palm. You pull your hand away and Jungkook follows the movement with laser focus.

“Want to taste your other noona, baby?” you tease.

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

Biting your lip on a smile, you move your hand slowly closer to his open mouth, watching the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before you reach his lips, you stop, drawing a pretty pout from the boy. Then you wink and you quickly bring your fingers to your own mouth instead. Twin gasps greet the action as you slip two fingers into your mouth and moan at the taste of Yoonji on your tongue. Your eyes slip closed as you suck your fingers clean and when you pull your fingers free and glance down to Jungkook, you’re met with a look that is equal parts jealous and hungry.

Hand dropping to the bed beside him, his eyes widen as you lean over him. “Still want a taste, baby?”

His gaze darts to your lips as he nods. You seal your mouth over his, taking advantage of the surprised part to his lips to slip your tongue in. He whimpers, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he chases the taste of Yoonji on your lips.

Kissing Jungkook is nothing like kissing Yoonji. He’s like putty beneath you, following your lead where Yoonji fought you for control, kept you on your toes. Not necessarily aggressive, but Yoonji kisses you with a consuming hunger, burning you from the inside out. Jungkook is like a breath of fresh air, he’s soft and needy, making these quiet little huffs with each brush of your tongue. You wonder if he realizes that he’s moved his hands, that he’s touching you when he’s not supposed to be, but you decide to let it slide just this once. You’re much more interested in drawing out more of those sweet, little sounds from him.

A moment later though, his hands are being pulled away and Yoonji is tutting him as she leans against you to pin his hands to the bed. “Naughty boy, what did we say about touching?”

With a whine, he pulls away from your mouth. “‘M sorry... “

You snicker. “Is noona so good at kissing that you forgot the rules, sweet thing?”

Jungkook lets out a low whine again. “Noona.”

Yoonji shifts against you, hands adjusting her grip on Jungkook’s wrists and you’re momentarily distracted by the press of her breasts against your back. Pressing again, she forces you to drop fully against Jungkook as she hooks her chin over your shoulder.

“I’ll just have to hold you while noona kisses you, hm?”

He squirms beneath you and you see him strain feebly against Yoonji’s hands. You all know that he could easily break her hold; that the strain he shows is feigned and exaggerated. But his acquiescence to her grip, to you both taking control, is the most telling thing to his desires. He wants this, just as much as you both. Even if he’s new and inexperienced in this aspect, he wants.

His lips part with small huffs and you can’t help yourself when you dip back down to kiss him. He squirms again before melting entirely into the kiss, letting Yoonji hold him still while you lick into his mouth. A heady rush fills you at his pliancy, you always imagined him submitting, but it was nothing like this. Jungkook behaves like he’s been subbing for you both for ages, like he knows the routine, that the momentary lapses in following the rules is nothing more than being a little bratty to provoke a reaction.

The kiss stretches, you don’t know for how long, getting lost in the feeling of Jungkook beneath you and the softness of Yoonji’s breasts pressing into your back. Jungkook’s hips twitch, his cock brushing wetly against your side and you finally decide to have some mercy on him. Lifting slightly, Yoonji gets the hint and sits up fully, allowing you to do the same. You smile at the way Jungkook is laid out, eyes lidded, lips kiss swollen and flush sitting high on his cheeks. He looks fucked out already and barely anything has happened yet.

Taking Yoonji’s hand in yours, you lift it to your lips to press a soft kiss to the palm. “I think it’s time to reward our baby, hm? He’s been so good for his first time.”

Her fingers brush your cheek as she smiles. “He does.” She turns her attention back to Jungkook. “How do you want your noonas, baby?”

Swallowing, his gaze flicks back and forth between the two of you. He takes a long time to answer, seemingly nervous. “I… I don’t know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Aw sweetheart, there’s no need to be sorry. You’re just overwhelmed, huh?” He nods, lips pursed in a pout, and you continue. “Do you want your noonas to pick something for your reward for you?”

“Yes, please… There’s too many things… I can’t pick…”

You pat his side affectionately. “It’s okay, baby. Noonas will take good care of you.”

His eyes shine at your praise as he nods eagerly. You and Yoonji exchange looks and seem to be thinking the same thing as you move off Jungkook’s thigh to move further up the bed and Yoonji shifts to fully straddle his hips.

Yoonji grins as she sees the way Jungkook follows your movement. “Ever had someone sit on your face, baby?”

Eyes widening, his gaze darts to Yoonji before turning back to you and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t answer. “N-no…”

“Pinch my thigh if you need to stop for any reason, okay, baby?” You wait for him to murmur a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to throw your leg over his head.

You feel his breath hot against your wet folds and when you glance up at Yoonji, you see her focus is trained where you sit just above Jungkook’s mouth. With a lick of your lips, you lower yourself until your pussy presses to Jungkook’s mouth, which instantly falls open, tongue darting out to lap at your slit. Groaning, you grind against his tongue, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy the pleasure sizzling in your belly.

Then you’re reaching up for Yoonji, grabbing her hips to tug her until she’s hovering over Jungkook’s cock. One hand slides from her hips and you let your fingers trace lightly along her slit, knuckles brushing his cock as you do.

You hold Yoonji’s gaze as you begin speaking, fingers dipping between her folds to tease at her clit. “Gotta get noona ready for you, baby. Get her nice and stretched for your big, pretty cock.”

Jungkook whines against you and Yoonji lets out a low moan as you slip a finger into her. Yoonji is warm and wet and tight around your finger and your breath stutters as she clenches around the digit. Letting your finger curl, you rub against her walls, searching for that spongy bundle of nerves.

It takes a few seconds, your attention being pulled by Jungkook’s tongue as he enthusiastically eats you out. But you find it quick enough, signaled by the sharp gasp that leaves her lips when you finally brush against it. Grinning victoriously, you tease at the bundle until her thighs begin to quiver, pleased to have wrung such a reaction from her.

Her hand darts out suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly. Her gaze is dark when it meets yours and she arches an eyebrow at you. “I think you’re enjoying yourself more than getting me ready for our baby,” she teases.

Your body heats. She’s not wrong, you maybe did forget what you were doing a little bit. Grinning, you slide your finger out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with two. “Guilty.”

She opens her mouth to speak again but you let your thumb brush her clit and it effectively silences her retort. She glares for only a moment before letting her head fall back with a groan and letting herself enjoy the slow pumps of your fingers.

Slipping a third finger in, Yoonji’s hips start to move, little grinds that push your hand against Jungkook’s cock. You lift your hips slightly, giving Jungkook a moment to breath.

“Are you ready for noona to ride you, baby?” you ask as you pull your fingers from Yoonji.

All you get in response is a whimper as you grasp his cock with your wet fingers, other hand settling on Yoonji’s hip and you guide him to her entrance. You give her hip a squeeze and she lets herself drop, pulling your hand away so her hips can settle flush to his. You can feel Jungkook’s breath panting hot against your pussy, his hands squeezing tightly at the sheets.

“How does noona’s pussy feel, baby?” you murmur. He whines and you give his nipple a pinch, making his hips jerk. “When noona asks a question, she expects an answer.”

“‘M sorry… Noona feels good…”

You let your free hand settle on Yoonji’s other hip. “How’s he feel?”

“Fuck… so good. He’s such a good boy.”

Jungkook’s hands suddenly wrap around your thighs. You jerk in surprise, ready to reprimand him, but before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back down onto his mouth. Yoonji laughs breathlessly, hands coming to rest on his belly as she starts to lift her hips.

“How’s his mouth?”

Giving her a groan in response, you grind against his tongue, toes curling as his fingers tighten against your thighs. Both of you fall quiet, save for pants and moans, letting yourselves be consumed with chasing your own pleasure for a moment. Heat simmers in your belly, building with each swipe of Jungkook’s tongue and teasing suck to your clit. Jungkook’s efforts combined with the view of Yoonji riding his cock has your orgasm building until one harsh suck pushes you over the edge.

Head falling back, you moan as your orgasm spreads through your veins, igniting like fire and leaving you shuddering as Jungkook seems to get even more enthusiastic below you. You vaguely hear Yoonji swear under her breath, but you don’t have it in you to look at her as Jungkook draws your orgasm out.

Finally you lift your hips, overstimulation beginning to creep in, and you and Jungkook pant together as your high slowly ebbs away and you come back to yourself. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yoonji’s have slipped closed as she moves and you find your gaze glued to the way her tits bounce with each movement.

Seeing an opportunity, you reach forward, letting your fingers find her clit and her eyes shoot open with a gasp at your touch. You grin, shifting so you’re knelt beside the pair. “Baby,” you coo, “look how pretty noona looks sitting on your dick.”

It takes him a moment, but Jungkook’s head lifts and your pussy clenches at the sheen of your slick covering the lower half of his face. His lips are parted as he makes sweet, little noises, soft moans and whines, and his hazy eyes trail over you both like he doesn’t truly know where to look. You swirl your fingers, drawing a wheezed gasp from Jungkook and you can’t help the teasing grin that forms.

“Aw, baby. Did noona tighten up? Is she close? Are you gonna be good and let her cum on your cock?”

Jungkook’s nodding before you even finish speaking, hips twitching in small little thrusts and you pick up the pace on her clit. Leaning forward, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, teeth teasing the bud before you sooth it with your tongue.

“Fuck… gonna-” She cuts off, moving faster until her hips slam down as she starts to cum.

You keep your fingers going, gradually slowing down as her orgasm shudders through her. Jungkook whines and squirms beneath her, but remains more still that others would. She tugs your hand away finally as she continues to shiver with aftershocks. You bring your fingers to your mouth with a teasing glance and lick them clean as she watches through hooded eyes.

Jungkook whimpers, drawing both of attention to him and Yoonji lifts herself off his cock, drawing an even louder whine from him.

You pat his side soothingly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna take care of you. Want your noona’s mouth?”

He blinks wet eyes at you both, cock twitching where it lays against his belly and Yoonji laughs. “I think that’s a yes.”

She takes him in her hand and his hips strain up into her grip. He’s so desperate already and you have barely even teased him or drawn this out. He’s definitely going to be fun in the future. Leaning down, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, licking up the taste of Yoonji and Jungkook together. They taste wonderfully divine. His hips strain upwards again and you and Yoonji each use a hand to hold his hips down as you continue your slow, teasing licks. Once you’ve licked all traces of Yoonji from him, you take him into your mouth, humming in content at the way he stretches your lips.

“‘M g-gonna… please… please can I?”

“Aw, you’re asking permission? You’re such a good boy. Of course you can cum, baby. You’ve been so good to your noonas.”

It takes only a couple bobs of your head for his back to bow as the first spurt of salty fluid hits your tongue. He cries out, body strung tight as he cums down your throat. You let your tongue rub at his frenulum as you and Yoonji work to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. When he begins to tremble and whimper, you finally pull away, licking your lips clean as you do.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut tight, shuddering through the last aftershocks and he looks beautifully debauched. Glancing at Yoonji, you see the same fond look on her face that you know to be on yours. Leaning down, you pepper a few kisses to his lips and cheeks before stretching out beside him and cuddling up to his side.

“You did such a good job, baby. You were so good for us,” you murmur, letting your hand rub his belly.

Yoonji mirrors you and after a moment, halts your rubbing by interlacing your fingers with her. The look on her face is hard to read, but she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“The best baby,” she agrees, turning to Jungkook and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Jungkook gets a goofy grin, seeming to melt between the both of you at the praise. At the rate he’s going, he might have a bigger praise kink than Jimin. You all fall silent, breath evening out and simply enjoy the afterglow. You assume Jungkook at the very least has fallen asleep as your mind begins to swirl with the implications of what just happened.

Leave it to your overthinking to ruin a nice postcoital cuddle. But you can’t help but wonder where this leaves the three of you. Was this just a one time thing? Does it mean anything deeper? You want so badly for it to mean more, but you also know that getting your hopes up leads to more hurt in the end.

Jungkook surprises you by breaking the silence, voice rough like he’s fighting sleep. “What does this mean?”

He sounds so small when he says it, it makes your heart ache a little. You’re not sure how to answer him though, because you also don’t really know what this means. You know what it means for you, but you can’t speak for Yoonji, or even Jungkook.

Yoonji pushes up onto her elbow so she can look at you both and you see that same fond look in her eyes again. It makes something warm and content twist in your belly. “I thought I had made my intentions clear, but I guess not. I like you.” Before the hurt you feel can stretch too far, she looks at you. “Both of you. I had intended to get that done first tonight. But, uh, well things got a little carried away.”

Jungkook snorts. “Only a little?”

She pulls her hand from yours, giving him a quick pinch. “Hey! Don’t go getting mouthy now.”

Grinning in response, he wraps his arms around you both, tugging you somehow closer. “I like you both too… I have for a really long time…” he pauses, seeming to think for a moment before continuing. “And I really liked tonight… What we did… I’d like to explore more of that…”

They both look at you and you can’t help the giddy grin that spreads across your face. You push yourself up just enough to lean across to give Yoonji a kiss and then turn to give Jungkook one too. “Of course I like you both. God, who couldn’t? You both are so wonderful.”

Jungkook giggles happily and then in the blink, he’s managed to get you and Yoonji pushed together as he hovers over you both. He gives you each a kiss to the forehead. “So does this mean you’ll be my girlfriends?” Laughing, you give him a nod and he glows with happiness. “I have the prettiest girlfriends.”

You and Yoonji both reach up, each cupping one of his cheeks. Warm floods you, feeling happy and content with them both.

“And we have the prettiest boyfriend.”

#bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #yoonji x reader #yoonji smut #yoonji fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Into The Woods

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; vaginal, anal.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re sent to make a delivery to the man in the woods.

Note: This is for @imanuglywombat and @nellblazer‘s Lumberjack Challenge. I couldn’t see if they were accepting dark fics so if they aren’t, I guess it’s just another fic lol. But anyways, the challenge inspired me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You sure Dezy isn’t going to make it?” You asked as you helped Gerry load the crate onto the trailer.

“I’m sorry, I got all the other deliveries sent out with Milo but this one’s too far for him.” Gerry grunted as he closed the back of the open-top trailer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Dezy. Second day in a row and yet I hear he’s down at the Horse every night.”

“Well, he’ll run out of beer money sooner than later,” You sighed as you pulled on your gloves. The air was starting to bite as the brief autumn was turning. “You sure you can manage without me?”

“Slow day in the shop,” He shrugged. “You just be careful.”

“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You climbed up onto the four-wheeler and fumbled with the thick key with the grizzly bear charm attached to it. “Maybe next time give me the easy ones.”

“I’ll tack an hour of overtime on your pay, how about that?” He chuckled. “You need to get out anyway. I know this place is small but you can’t spend all your time reading those harlequins in the dry good section.”

“They’re not harlequins,” You turned the engine and raised your voice as you gripped the handlebars. “They’re fantasy, Ger.”

“Sure, sure,” He backed away. “You go or you won’t make it back by sundown.”

“Never far off these days,” You mused as you revved. “See ya, Gerry. Don’t forget to down stock the fishing wire.”

“Which one of us is the boss?” He called after you as you pulled out, the small trailer rumbling behind you.

You turned off at the end of the street, past the business fronts that looked like cabins. The town looked straight out of Western but with more snow. The first of the annual powder had yet to fall but you could feel it coming. You headed over the lumpy tundra past the sparse trees that grew thicker the further you got. The paths turned narrower and you steered slowly through the damp forest.

You only went so far out when your uncle took you ice fishing and rarely in this direction. You slowed as the path grew more uneven, carefully traversing the thick roots and deep valleys. The noise of the engine bounced off the trunks of trees around you. It was more than an hour before you reached your destination. At least, you thought you were in the right place. Weren’t too many cabins hidden in these trees; well not many still inhabited.

You pulled into the clearing and killed the engine. You hopped off the ATV and stretched your legs, your thighs tingled from the rumble. You went to the trailer and open the door and slid out the heavy trunk. You braced yourself before you lifted and gave a grunt. You’d packed the load yourself. You carried it past the old motorcycle and the neat stack of wood which marched the way to the broad front porch. You slowly ascended the three steps up and set down the heavy crate beside the door.

A bench made of logs, likely by hand, stood just a few feet from the front door, a woven blanket folded over the seat. The curtains were drawn within and you started to wonder if there was anyone there or if this was just another forgotten scene. It all seemed so eerily still.

You knocked and waited for an answer. Nothing. You tried again with the same result. Then, after a cold silence, you heard a door open and snap shut but it wasn’t the one before you. You turned as a man appeared beside the far corner of the porch. He appeared disturbed by your presence as he emerged from the old shed, his flannel jacket marked with patches of dirt and his dark hair poking out from beneath a woolen cap.

“He usually just leaves it there,” He clapped his gloved hands together as he brushed away the filth. “Thanks.”

“Uh, sorry,” You turned and ambled down the steps. “I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” He stayed near the corner, kicking his foot up onto the stump where an ax waited to be used. “Better get going before the sun beats you.”

“Sure,” You went back to the four wheeler. His eyes bore into you as you climbed up. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just--”

“Thanks,” He said again. “Driving out here all this way. Appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You turned the key. “Have a good day, sir.”

The engine roared to life and you carefully turned around, the empty trailer clattering behind you. You couldn’t help but feel him watching you still. You wanted to look back, but didn’t. You twisted the throttle and delved back through the treeline. You hoped Dezy would get his shit together, you weren’t keen on doing deliveries.

🪓

The next day, you were back to your usual fare. You stood at the long counter of Elk’s General, watching the locals as they wandered in and out, perusing the aisles of groceries, clothing, or novelty goods. You rung them through on the outdated till and smiled after them as they left with their paper bags.

The usual midday lull came and you pressed flat your latest read on the counter. You crossed your arms over the edge and bent over the pages, losing yourself in the fantastical medieval setting. Gerry didn’t mind so much as you kept an eye on customers.

The rusty bell above the entrance tinkled and you looked up suddenly. You turned your book over before you could lose your place. You stood up straight and smiled at your newest customer but froze as his eyes met yours. It was the man from the day before, to whom you had delivered the weeks worth of goods.

He ignored your usual greeting and marched over to you. He planted the bill for his delivery on the counter.

“I ordered six cans of maple beans. I have only four.” He said plainly.

“An oversight. I’m sorry, sir. Just a moment.” You gulped and flitted off to check the shelf. There were only the tomato beans in stock. You went to the back room and checked there. Nothing. You returned to the counter. “Looks like we’re all out but I’ll make a note to have them delivered when we get more. Or we can remove the charge from your bill.”

“Keep ‘em on,” He said as he reached into his pocket. “I can wait.” He unfolded the worn leather wallet. “I have to pay my account anyway.”

“Sure,” You reached to slid his bill closer and keyed the amount into the machine. “You could have called--”

“I don’t have a phone,” He growled as he counted out the bills. “I don’t like to be disturbed.”

You took the money and counted it. You avoided his gaze guiltily. You sorted the bills in the cash door and handed him his change. His gloves brushed your skin and he tucked the money away with his wallet.

“Good book?” He pointed to the novel.

“Alright, so far,” You answered quietly.

“I read his other one. The one set in Ancient Egypt. It was… interesting. Not my usual reading material though.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “You have a good day, miss.”

He turned and left you as you returned his farewell. The door snapped shut behind him and you looked back down at the book. You opened the front page and read the list of works by the same author. You’d have to look into them.

🪓

Several days late, you were helping Gerry restock shelves with the newly acquired truck. The night before, you’d helped unload it and left it for the next day to sort through. Dezy sat behind the counter, half-keeled over on the stool, trying not to puke into his hands.

“Damn shit is hungover again,” Gerry muttered. “I got a whole list of deliveries today and he can’t even stand straight.”

“I can do it,” You offered. “Long as he can manage the till.”

“I don’t know if I even trust him to do that,” Gerry said. “You sure you wanna do the deliveries?”

“We got any of the maple beans on the truck?” You asked.

“A good amount.” He said.

“We owe two cans to-- well, I didn’t get his name. The man who lives way up in the trees.” You frowned, only then realising you new nothing about him. In that town, everyone knew everyone.

“Mr. Barnes?” Gerry reached over into the box and moved around several items before pulling out a can. “Quiet man. Doesn’t like to be bothered. Must’ve scared Dezy good to get him to shut up.” He took out two more cans. “If you’re willing to head up that way, you give him and extra can on me. He’s the only customer in town who pays on time.”

“Sure,” You stood, thankful not to be forced to kneel all day at the shelves. “The list?”

“Pinned up behind the counter as usual,” He caught a box of Corn Pops he hit with his elbow and swore. “Take a radio. Snow’s comin’.”

“Will do,” You said. “I should be that long.”

“Chill blowin’ in from the lake, bundle up before you go too.” He said.

“You sound like my mother.” You laughed.

“I feel like you’re mother,” He shook his head. “Now go, before I get sentimental.”

🪓

Gerry was right, it was cold. The four-wheeler seemed slower as the wind swirled around you. You stopped by each house and knocked before leaving your haul. You smiled away tips and bid each resident a good day before you rushed away under the protests of another delivery ahead of you.

Your last would take the longest, though it was the smallest. The tree cans rattled around the trailer so you stopped at the shop before you continued on and detached it. You placed the cans in a small box and secured it to the seat behind you with bungee cords. You fixed your gloves and pulled your cap over your ears before you set out once more.

The sky grew paler the later it got. A harbinger of snow. You took the same route as before, getting off once to push the ATV over a fallen branch caught beneath it. You carried on, the frigid air lashing your cheeks.

You drew up to the clearing as you had before. The motorcycle was gone, likely pushed into the shed in preparation for the first snowfall. The piles of wood had grown taller and the front door was open, the screen door a poor barrier to the looming winter.

You unhooked the box and climbed up the steps. You bent to set it down and be off. You looked up as you sensed something on the other side of the screen door. The man, Mr. Barnes, stared at you through the mesh, a mug in hand. You stood and smiled nervously.

“Your beans. An extra can for the inconvenience.” You said. “Have a good day, sir.”

You turned but caught yourself before you made it down one step as he spoke.

“It’s pretty cold.” He remarked as he took the box in his free hand. “You like coffee? I just made a pot.”

“I appreciate it,” You turned to him. “But I don’t mean to impose on you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if you were,” He said stiffly. “I’d feel worse letting half a pot go to waste.”

“I don’t know, I should--” You glanced behind you at the trees.

“You came all this way to give me beans in this,” He held the door with his elbow and stepped through. “You don’t like coffee, I got tea.”

You took a breath as you looked back to him. “Sure. I’ll have some coffee.”

He nodded and stared at you. He blinked and moved to hold the door open. “Well, you wanna come inside? Or do you prefer your coffee frozen?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” You kicked yourself and stopped right before the door. You smiled awkwardly and offered your name. “I just… figured you wouldn’t want a stranger in your home.”

“Bucky,” He returned and waved you inside. “Not many strangers in town. Not really.”

You entered and he followed you. The entryway was lit by an antique lamp and the front room was entirely dark. You knelt to unlace your boots as he stepped around you. You kept your coat on as the wind continued to seep in behind you.

“Kitchens just down the hall past the stairs,” He said as he continued across the wooden floor.

“Okay,” You slid your boots off and stood, following his shadow to the kitchen.

As you passed through the doorway, he placed his mug on the table and went to the cupboard. He took down another thick ceramic cup and sidled over to the stove. He filled it from the percolator and returned to the table to place it before you.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“I’m fine, black is good,” You accepted as he slid the cup over to you.

You sat, hesitantly, and removed your gloves. You tucked them in your pocket and wrapped your hands around the steaming cup. He pulled out another chair and sat. He looked into the mug and slowly drank from it.

“I didn’t know anyone still lived out here.” You said.

“Sometimes,” He answered carefully. “Spring and summer I spend working the lumberyards south of here.”

“And you live all the way up here?” You wondered. He gave you a sharp look. “Sorry, it’s just… curiosity.”

“I like it,” He shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

You nodded and resigned yourself to silence. You listened to the wind outside and looked around at the tidy kitchen. Most of the original structure remained, renovated but not replaced. Even the curtains seemed to be of another era; faded but without holes or tears. All the way up here, time always seemed to stand still.

“You finish your book?” His voice jolted you.

You looked back to him and sipped the hot coffee. You nodded again.

“I did.” You answered. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” He asked.

“I’ve read better and worse,” You said. “It was… entertaining.”

“Mmm,” He mumbled and drank his coffee. You mimicked him, eager to leave.

Ten minutes of silence and stunted small talk left your mug empty and your stomach gurgling. You stood and nervously teetered on your feet.

“I should go. It’s snowing already.” You glanced out the window.

“Sure,” He rose and gathered up the mugs and took them to the sink.

“Thank you.” You said and turned rigidly to head through the door.

You trod down the hallway and stopped to pull on your boots. You adjusted your cap and shoved your gloves on. He neared and you pushed open the door and glanced back at him.

“Coffee was good.” You said.

He caught the door behind you and you marched across the porch. You rushed down the steps and shivered as you neared the four wheeler.

“Be careful,” He said in monotone.

“I will, thank you,” You called back as you climb onto the seat. “Enjoy your beans.”

He waved and you turned the engine. You backed up and turned around. The snow had already left a thin powder across the ground. You steered into the trees and carefully began to weave around the trunks and along the uneven forest floor.

The snow thickened the more it fell. You had to slow as the ride became more precarious. The downfall formed a thick carpet beneath the tires and soon, even beneath the shroud of branches, the snow formed a curtain all around you, making it nearly impossible to see. You stopped and left the motor rumbling.

You pulled the radio from its holster down beside the wheel well and turned the dial until you picked up the signal. It was static and crackled.

“Gerry? Gerry!” You held the speak to your lips. “Gerry?”

“Yeah, i--me, ---okay?” His voice went in and out.

“I’m okay but the snow is… I can’t see. It’s going to take me a while.”

“Wha-- breaking up--” The radio broke off with a high pitched scratch.

“Damn it!” You shouted and tried fixing the dial. It didn’t help.

You sat for a moment and put the radio back. You couldn’t stay and let yourself get snowed in. You’d have to keep going, slow but steady. You carefully pulled past the trees, blinking away the flakes as they gathered on your lashes. You stopped again to pulled your scarf higher over your cheeks and pressed on.

The third time you paused, you realised you were lost. A brief lull allowed your vision to clear and you had no idea where you were. You kicked the side of the ATV and cursed. You grabbed the radio again and turned it on.

“Gerry?” No answer. Several more tries with nothing but static.

You hung your head and clicked the radio off. You gripped the handlebars and looked around. You’d have to turn around and try to trace your way back but the snow was starting to get heavy again and--

“Hey,” You jumped as the voice sounded from behind you. “You okay?”

You turned to find Bucky standing by a tree. “How--”

“Looks like you just went in a big circle,” He said. “You’re about ten minutes from my place.”

“What are you doing out here?” You asked.

“Wanted to grab some kindling before the storm got too bad, then I heard you.”

“Kindling?”

“Dry it out, obviously, but might run out of what I have before this clears,” He looked up. “Look, it’s only gonna get worse. Why don’t you wait it out?”

“I don’t-- I can’t--”

“There’s more than enough room for both of us. Might be a bit dusty but… Wouldn’t feel right letting you get lost out here.”

You exhaled and looked at the radio.

“Alright,” You relented.

“I’ll lead the way.” He came up beside the ATV and passed to the front. “Just don’t get too close.”

“Okay,” You turned the throttle just a bit and kept a snail’s pace as he guided you.

He barely seemed bothered by the gusts or the deepening snow. Even as the air turned almost completely white, he didn’t waver though you squinted to keep an eye on him.

“You like beans?” He yelled back to you as he broke through to the clearing around his house.

“Maple beans?” You asked dryly.

“They go great with toast,” He said as he continued onto the shed and unlocked the wide doors. “Warm you right up.”

🪓

You sat at the table, alone. Bucky had excused himself after clearing his own plates. You still picked away at the beans and sausage, listening to the movement above. You scooped the last few bites up and swallowed, washing it down with a gulp of water. You stood and went to the sink to rinse your plate. As you set it in the rack, you were startled by a creak behind you.

“I cleared a bedroom for you. It’s a bit dusty around here.” Bucky said as he leaned against the door frame. “Bit cold, too. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” The windows shuddered. “Better than out there.”

“I put some clothes out too. Might be a little big.” He explained. “Dinner okay?”

“Yeah, it was…” You tried to smile. “Alright. Um, just one second.”

You neared him and he moved aside. You went down the hallway to where your jacket was hung and pulled the radio out. He watched you as you fiddled with it and the speaker crackled on.

“Gerry?” You held it to your lips.

“Kiddo?” He said, clear but not entirely.

“I’m okay,” You said slowly as you held the button down. “Staying until storm clears. Call in morning.”

“Roger, kiddo,” He returned. “Be safe.”

You turned off the radio and placed it back in your coat pocket. You looked up at Bucky as he stared at you dully.

“Just wanted to make sure someone knew,” You said. “Wouldn’t want them to worry.”

“Of course not,” He said. “You want a beer?”

“What?” You were thrown off by the sudden offer.

“Beer. If you want you can grab a book from the study,” He pointed to the doorway opposite the front room. “Sit in front of the fire where it’s warm.”

“I’ll take the book,” You said. “I’m not much for beer though.”

“Hot chocolate? Tea?” He stepped a little closer.

“I’m fine,” You squirmed. “Thank you.”

‘Just let me know if you need anything,” He said softly. “Haven’t had a guest in a while but… I can be accommodating.”

🪓

You read three chapters before you found your way upstairs. Bucky showed you the room he’d prepared for you but didn’t say much more before he closed himself into his own. You changed into the long sleeve tee he left you and the jogging pants with the drawstring waist. You tucked your feet into the wool socks and rolled under the blankets. You were still cold. The top floor was entirely untouched by the fireplace below.

You drifted into a shallow sleep. Maybe an hour or two before you woke, shivering. You sat up and reluctantly climbed out from beneath the covers. You took one of the blankets and wrapped it around you as you shuffled to the door. You slipped through, carefully not to let the hinges whine and plodded through the dark down the stairs.

In the front room, the fire burned a low amber. You crept over to it and took a log from the wrought iron basket just beside it. You placed it over the coals and stoked it with the poker until flames began to lick. You held your hands to the glow until you were no longer shaking.

You took a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the carpet. You laid down before the fire, wrapping yourself in the blanket as you basked in the warmth. You listened to the violent winds outside, softened by the heaps of snow which had gathered all around the cabin. Your eyes closed as you began to sink into the darkness around you.

You dreamt of the four wheeler, of the snow swirling around you, of losing yourself in the pure white. The trees curled and clawed at your as you were thrown from the seat. The snap of twigs filled your ears and your eyes snapped open. The fire popped as it burned, the room lighter but not much.

There was a heaviness around you. More than just the quilt, the thick arm wrapped around your middle held you close to the warmth at your back. Startled, you wriggled against the body and a groan slithered along your ear.

“What the--” You hissed as you grasped his wrist, his hand tucked beneath you. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” His breath was hot as it seeped into your scalp. “You were shivering.”

“Let me go,” You tugged on him.

“Shhh,” He hushed. “It’s early.”

“Dude, not cool,” You pulled harder on his arm.

“Stop,” He said more firmly.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

“You’re not a very gracious guest,” He snarled as he retracted his arm, only to grab your shoulder and push you flat on your back.

You latched onto his wrist, he was strong. He didn’t budge.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Scaring you?” He removed his hand. “How? What do you think I’m gonna do?”

He sat up, his broad shoulder stretched the waffled shirt he wore as he rubbed his eyes. He pushed his head back and took a deep breath. You pushed yourself up slowly beside him.

“What do you want me to do?” His hand settled on your thigh and he squeezed.

“Stop,” You tried to push his hand away and he flipped it to grasp yours.

His grip slipped to your wrist and he twisted. He wrenched it over your head until you were forced onto your back. You cried out as he leaned over you, the blanket slipping entirely from your bodies.

“Came all this way for a few cans of beans,” He whispered. “Really?”

“Stop!” You repeated. “Please.”

“But you’re cold,” He uttered as he leaned closer. “You need to warm up… you’re shivering…” His nose touched yours. “Or… shaking?”

“Get--” His lips smothered yours as he shifted his body atop you.

You struggled as he released your wrist and reached down to grab your knee as he forced his legs between yours. He bit your lip as he pulled and his hand clawed at the waist of the loose pants. He pulled until he snapped the string within and you kicked around him.

“What are you doing?” You beat on his shoulders. “Stop! Stop!”

“I don’t talk to people, they don’t talk to me,” He snarled. “I keep to myself. Even that dumb delivery boy of yours knows better.”

“No, no,” You slapped his chest as he sat up suddenly.

He tore the pants down your legs until they were around your knees and pushed them up. The fabric kept you trapped beneath him, legs bent to your chest as he leaned over your once more. He brushed his nose against your cheek and snarled.

“You asked for this, honey,” He sneered. “You just couldn’t leave me alone… The way you smile at me, I can see it.”

“I was just--” You pushed against him. “--doing my job. Please, get off of me.”

He moved against you, his thighs pressed to yours as he felt between you. He pushed his own pants down and you tried to shove him off of you with your legs. You only made yourself dizzy.

The fire flickered against you, setting shadows across his features, his blue eyes caught the flame and glowed sinisterly. His rough finger tickled your cunt as he guided his cock along your folds. You grunted as you fought harder beneath him. He pressed along your entrance and you gasped, a horrified scream as he impaled you in a single thrust.

“Go on and scream.” He said. “No one will hear you. No one but me.” He jerked his hips and you cried out again. “I kinda like it.”

He moved his hips in sharp, short thrusts. He grunted with each, lower and lower, almost like satisfied purrs.

He sat up and hugged your legs to his torso as he rutted faster. He clung to you as if he was desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough. You scratched at the carpet. You whimpered each time he slammed into you, each tilt of his hips harder than the last. The clapping of your flesh mingled with your voices. You closed your eyes, holding back the sobs that threatened.

And then he stopped. Suddenly. He stayed inside of you as his grasp on you loosened. His body quivered and a low growl rose from him. He pulled out of you and pushed your legs aside to that you fell onto your side. Shakily, you pushed yourself, on knees and elbow you tried to crawl away, your pants tangled around your feet.

He grabbed your ankles and dragged you back as you slipped onto your stomach. He climbed over you, pinning your legs between his. He kneaded and pinched your ass, dusky, thick breaths rose from him.

He pressed his thumb between your cheeks and you reached desperately for anything to get away. The edge of the carpet rolled in your grasp and you kicked your feet with a panicked whine. He pressed his thumb against your asshole and you shook your head as he buried your face in your arms. He pushed inside and you let out a shrill cry.

He poked in and out of you, your tight ring burned around his thumb. He withdrew it and forced his index finger in, then added his middle. Your pained groans only seemed to encourage him as he stretched you around a third finger.

He pulled his hand away and bent his arm over your shoulders as he lifted himself over you. He lined himself up with your ass as his hair hung around his head and brushed the back of yours. He took a breath and you held one in. He entered you slowly, letting out a choked grunt as you strained around him.

The tears pricked at your eyes and your arm shot up as you blind grabbed at air.

“Please, please, please. Stop.” You begged. “I can’t--”

He pushed deeper and your voice fizzled. He pulled back and thrust in again. Every time, he went a little further. Soon he was buried in you to his limit and you couldn’t breathe or move. He held himself inside of you and shuddered.

He began to rock and you moaned. Despite the pain, the fire that radiated from your core, it felt good. The more he did, the better it got. The pressure built, unlike any you’d felt before, and you gulped and groaned against the carpet. Shocked by him, by yourself.

He got faster and faster. Louder two as his snarls filled your head. You tensed and then in an instant, your strength drained from you. You came, harder than you had ever in your life. You murmured as your head lolled and he kept going.

He lifted his head and his fingers gripped the back of your neck as he lifted himself over you. He hammered into you from above as you lay prone and helpless beneath him. He exclaimed and you felt a warmth flow into you.

He stopped and fell atop you. His weight held you down, suffocated you. His arm stretched up and he grabbed your hand, twining his fingers with yours.

“Stay as long as you like,” He rasped. “Snow’s not letting up anytme soon.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #one shot #lumberjack au #lumberjack #au #mcu #marvel #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge

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americxn · 3 years

Text

Run (part 4)

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: alright, so this was meant to be smut but I didn’t want to ruin the pacing by moving on too quickly so think of this as a little filler to the story. part 5 will be out sometime tomorrow, and it’ll be a spicy one.

Kai allowed you to distance yourself from him and the rest of the cult in the week following Liam’s death. You knew that he felt absolutely terrible for what he had forced you to endure and although he hadn’t verbalised it in the time since you had been unleashed upon Liam, the little glances and tentative smiles he passed you whenever you returned to the house were all the confirmation you needed. Kai had been quiet, thoughtful almost. And you had let him, resorting to keeping yourself busy and out of the house during the day, sometimes even spending the night elsewhere, minimising the time that you usually spent with Kai. To be honest, your own feelings were all over the place and you often found yourself gnawing on your lip, deep in thought about Kai and what he had accidentally confessed to you: “Why the fuck would I kill someone I love?” Maybe it would have been possible at one point, for you to love him. But you were angry, a sickening feeling of betrayal unfurling deep in your gut whenever you thought about him, about how he had chosen to believe a seventeen-year-old boy that he had know for two weeks, over you. Though, it was undeniable even to you that, throughout this inner conflict with yourself, Kai’s face spent far too much time occupying the front of your mind, each time you saw him, your brain emptying completely, Kai’s name being the only thought resonating throughout you.

Kai had let you take the week off attending cult meetings, and you knew that with each additional meeting you missed, his patience wore thinner and thinner, his guilt dissipating and giving way to irritation. And if there was one thing that you had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that Kai abandoned any sense of morals and restraint that he may have when pissed off. And so here you were, stood at the top of Kai’s stairs that would lead you to the basement. His deep voice was already echoing through the closed door to meet you. You sighed; you were late. Taking the stairs down to the door, your hand paused on the handle. The last time you had gone down these stairs was to take someone’s life. You hastily pushed the thought aside, suppressing a shiver before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. Kai stood just before the little beige couch he usually took his spot of leader at, another cult member who you weren’t too familiar with sat to the side of him. Your spot at the other end of the couch was empty. Kai paused as you entered, trying in vain to ignore the entirety of the cult sat on the floor before Kai, stretching the entire length of the room. He looked at you, his mouth still open in paused speech, his hands frozen in gesture in the air. You stared at him, willing your shoulders to remain pushed back ever so slightly, the gazes of everyone else in the room burning into you. “What?” You snapped, turning your head to address the other members who stared at you wide eyed. “You want me to bow or something?” You demanded in irritation. From across the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed was Beverly, sporting a small smile at your unchanged attitude. A sea of heads turning hastily back to Kai was your only response, causing you to grind your teeth as you lowered yourself to the floor, crossing your legs under you. “No.” Kai said quietly. Your eyes flicked to his, watching as he extended a pointed finger to your old spot on the couch. “You sit here.” He demanded coolly, leaving no time for you to respond before he continued on with his speech, his gaze leaving yours. Several lips curled at this as Kai’s command crushed any hope that he would re-elect another member to take your place as his favoured follower. You stared with cold eyes out at the group upon reclaiming your rightful place beside Kai, a sense of cruel satisfaction filling you at the way a majority of the crowd cowered from your gaze, trying their best not to make eye-contact with you. The rest of the meeting passed slowly, dragging along until you had gone from perching on the couch straight-backed, to lounging against the soft surface, your head rested in your hand. You weren’t even listening to Kai’s dismissal, jolting in alert as everyone rose to leave. You moved to do the same, praying that Kai wouldn’t say anything to you and you would just be able to blend into the group filing out of the room. But of course, that was a fool’s hope. “Wait.” Kai said, looking to you as soon as you made a step to leave. “I want to talk.” You exhaled deeply, not feeling ready to talk to him yet. You swallowed your hesitation, forcing yourself to respond. “Yeah, sure.” The wariness filling your tone was obvious as you fell back down onto the couch, Kai waiting until everyone had left the room, the basement door slamming shut, before joining you. “How have you been?” He asked coolly, angling himself on the couch so that he faced you, his knees brushing yours. You hated the way the accidental touch momentarily emptied your mind, every nerve of your being surrendering to his close proximity. You swallowed. “Yeah, I’ve been fine. I spent a few nights with friends and stuff... that’s why I haven’t really been here.” You shrugged, your words trailing off awkwardly. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” He interjected, causing your gaze to drop to your clasped hands on your lap. His own eyes followed yours, landing on your hands. He stared at them for a moment whilst his jaw worked, causing your skin to prickle beneath his scrutiny. “Here.” He said, holding his pinky finger out to you. You cringed away, shaking your head. “Kai, I don’t -” “Well I do, take it.” You groaned quietly but lifted your arm to begrudgingly loop your pinky with his. “You know how this works so I won’t explain it again. I want to know what you’re feeling right now.” You sighed, glancing at him as his finger tightened around yours. His eyes searched yours with unflinching intensity, trying to sort through every glint of emotion that shone there. “I don’t really know how to feel.” You answered simply, shrugging. Kai shook his head. “No. It’s more than that. Tell me.” He said flatly. You tipped your head back at his unyielding tone, knowing full well that you weren’t leaving this room until Kai knew exactly where he stood with you. “I was angry. Obviously,” you began, breaking Kai’s scrutinising gaze to instead stare at your pinky entwined with his as you continued: “But now, I kinda just want it all to go back to normal. I killed someone Kai, the others aren’t going to forget that.” “Yes, but a sick part of you enjoys the power that gives you.” You cut him a silencing glare at his interjection, his words illuminating a truth that you had already come to know but tried to ignore. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve thought about it so much that it doesn’t really seem to matter anymore. But that’s not true; you hurt me Kai, you almost killed me.” Pain flashed across his face. Pain and understanding. But he stayed quiet, letting you verbalise your thoughts and organise them into some sort of coherence. “For a while I thought I wanted to leave. I even thought you might let me.” You huffed a laugh at your own stupidity. “But then I realised that I wouldn’t want to leave even if I could. And it’s fucking sick of me, but I’m... for some reason, I wouldn’t want to distance myself from you anymore than I already have.” Kai’s frame went completely still beside you. You plowed on. “It’s like the moral... I don’t know, human, part of me is terrified of you, but some weird, primal part of me just wants to give myself over to you entirely.” At their verbalisation, your words seemed to come to grow into their full meaning, striking you with how starkly honest they were; your eyes prickled, a slight ache radiating from the back of your throat. “Like, I don’t know.” You mumbled, your chin beginning to wobble. You were aching to pull your pinky from his and cover your face with your hands but you refrained, not wanting to upset him. “Can you... can you say something?” You asked him in a quiet plead, your other hand rising to swipe at your eyes before any tears had the chance to fall. “I want you to keep talking.” His voice was so low it sounded like a growl. “I want you to keep talking about what you think of me.” You raised your chin to look at him, but his gaze was so strong that you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “I feel like the longer I’ve known you, the more I’ve wanted to know you. Fuck Kai, there’s just something about you and I don’t know why it’s so scary but I ache to give myself wholly to you.” Kai’s eyes darkened beside you. “And then when you said that shit in the car, that you loved me,” you finally gathered enough courage to look at him, needing to scrutinise his face in order to determine the truth of his answer to the question you were about to ask him. Your eyes were red and teary, but you indulged in it, laying yourself out before Kai, willing him to pick your words and emotions apart to truly understand the depth of your stark honesty. “Did you mean that? Did you mean you love me in the way that you love everyone else in this cult? Or, did you mean it in a way that just applies to me?” “You’re a clever girl, y/n.” He said simply. “How do you think I meant it?” You huffed a sigh of irritation at his cryptic responses, but delved into his question. “I think -” you took a shuddering breath, struggling to put your response into a coherent answer. “I think that if you had meant it in the way that it means for everyone else here, then I would’ve been dead the second you slammed me to the concrete of that road.” He nodded slowly. “And why do you think that?” You sucked in a breath, knowing that he was goading you into dangerous territory. “Because...because you killed Winter.” You finished slowly. Kai sat back, seemingly pleased by your answer. “Exactly. See? You’re a clever girl.” “Okay,” you sat back, disconnecting your pinky from Kai’s. His hand dropped onto his lap as you wiped at your eyes. “And what exactly does that mean for me?” He studied you unblinkingly. “It means that you can take this in any direction you want. If you decide you hate me for what I did to you, then fine. Tell me to fuck off and I promise I’ll oblige you.” You processed his words, sucking on your teeth in thought. “Or, you can decide to give me a chance to make it up to you. I meant what I said, y/n. I’ve felt that way for a long time, and I will do anything for you to reciprocate that feeling.” He stood, sparing you once last glance before striding for the basement door. Pausing before the door, he threw his parting words over his shoulder: “Just whatever you decide, please stay in the house. The guest room is still set up for you. I hate not knowing who you’re with.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, mulling the conversation over and over in your head until Kai’s voice was the only thing occupying your brain. You tossed onto your side for the twentieth time, your eyes staring at the small line of light shining in through the crack under the door of the guest room. It was unsettlingly familiar, taking you back to the confined darkness of the closet Kai had thrown you in. You flipped onto your back once more with a huff, throwing the covers back so that the upper part of your body was exposed to the cool air. Kai’s room was just down the hall. Your stomach fluttered in forbidden possibility. Would he be asleep? If you went to him, would he kick you out? You turned your head to the little digital alarm clock on the bedside table. The red numbers flashed, notifying you that it was 2.30 am. Your hands fell onto your face. Stop fucking thinking about him, you urged yourself for the hundredth time, sleep evading you a little bit more with each time that your mind circled back to your earlier conversation. You bit your lower lip harshly in irritation, your arms flopping onto the pillow above your head. A flurry of butterflies swirled about in your stomach. Just go to him; he wants it more than you do. But it shouldn’t be so easy to forgive the man that almost killed me? Almost. And he would’ve if he didn’t want to keep you around. Yes, how flattering. He’s Kai Anderson, killing is like second nature to him. “Fuck.” You whispered into the dark room, interrupting your conversation with yourself. “Talking to myself? I’m going insane.” You didn’t give yourself a chance to reconsider, flinging the covers all the way back and lowering your feet to the cold wooden floor. Padding with bare feet to the door, you paused, looking down at yourself. Are tiny pajama shorts and t-shirt too much? You shook your head, forcing your inner voice to shut up. He’s probably asleep it won’t even matter, you reasoned with yourself, quietly pulling open the door and looking out into the dark hallway. Kai’s door was right across the hall and you crossed the space quickly, the intensity of your butterflies momentarily causing your nerve slip. You reminded yourself once more that it was just Kai and that, even if he wasn’t interested in you, he probably wouldn’t give a shit if you decided that you wanted to spend the night in his bed. You pushed open the door, not daring to breathe as you stepped into the darkness of the room beyond. The dim light flooding into the room fell over Kai’s large bed, his form a lump huddled under the covers on far side of the bed. You looked at him for a moment, at how small he looked huddled at the very edge of the otherwise empty bed. His breaths were deep and even as you eased the door closed beside you, skirting carefully around the bed to the other side and slipping onto the mattress beside him, turning so that you were back-to-back. His breaths faltered slightly at the movement beside him and you froze, slowly lowering your head to the pillow. “Y/n?” He mumbled, the words accompanied by a shuffling sound that notified you that he had turned over to look at you. You craned your own neck to look at his darkened face, swallowing. “Sorry,” you breathed, “I couldn’t sleep.” “That’s fine.” He reassured you quietly, his voice softened by sleep. “Here, get under the covers, you’ll get cold.” Your heart ached at his gentle command and he watched you carefully as you maneuvered your way under his covers, sighing at the immediate warm the thick duvet provided as it settled over your bare legs. “Goodnight, y/n.” Kai muttered as soon as he was sure you had settled, turning back around to snuggle deeper into the covers. “Goodnight, Kai.” You replied quietly, his pillow significantly softer than the one in the guest room beneath your cheek. Your eyes drifted closed, a sense of stillness and peace finally settling over your mind in the warmth of Kai’s bed. “Y’know,” Kai began, his voice muffled by his pillow, “I just can’t stop thinking about you.” A grin spread over your face at his words and you pushed yourself backwards slightly, sighing when your back came into contact with Kai’s. “That’s the reason I came in here.” You admitted to Kai, who merely grunted in acknowledgement, your words lost on his sleep-addled mind. You were asleep within minutes, Kai’s warmth leeching into you, the sound of his soft breaths lulling you into a satisfying sleep. taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove (if you wanna be added or removed to let me know)

#american horror story #ahs #ahs cult #cult #kai anderson #kai x reader #continued #evan peters #evan peters ahs

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