#fuck it i’m main tagging. look at my paintings boy
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freshly spray-sealed means our coffee table’s top panel is FINALLY DONE, several hours of hyperfocus later >:) featuring all 13 of eberron’s moons, mostly accurate in colour if not in relative scale. there’s a bunch of little references to our eberron home game in this, including a hidden golden-starred bahamut constellation and border colours for all three progenitors + the secret good fourth progenitor dragon
now time for the legs so we can actually USE IT AGAIN
#bark bark#fuck it i’m main tagging. look at my paintings boy#eberron#dnd tag#also for the record it’s not my fault that 3 of the moons look Very similar. it’s keith’s
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Nice Guys Finish Last
Kinktober Day 9- Hair Pulling
warnings: hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving), name calling, face riding, dom/sub dynamics, fwb(?), crime, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors DNI
main masterlist
kinktober masterlist
Picking up Anakin from the police station yet again is not what you thought you’d be doing with your night. Your he is always getting into some kind of trouble and it always somehow becomes your responsibility to save his sorry ass.
It’s the third time this month you’ve had to get him and to say you’re pissed is an understatement. You honestly couldn’t believe the officer when he told you Anakin was taken in for vandalism. He was caught tagging a building with some buddies. How fucking juvenile.
You signed the proper paperwork and Anakin was following you out of the station. Somehow, with his pretty boy charm, he always gets off with a warning. Some day he won’t be so lucky, and you may not feel bad for him when that day comes.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Anakin!” you yell once you’re in the car.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Anakin huffs.
“Don’t give me that. I’m the one bailing you out in the middle of the night for fucking around with a can of spray paint.”
Anakin glares at you from the passenger seat. “Thanks,” he mutters.
“Why am I always the one you call? You know I won’t let you rot at the station and all your other friends are getting arrested with you?” It’s a rhetorical question; you know that’s exactly why you’re his call.
“You’re my best friend. That’s why you’re the one I call,” he says. “Sorry if I’m such an inconvenience for you.”
“Do not guilt trip me, Anakin. You are so fucking irresponsible and yeah, you are inconveniencing me because it’s Saturday night and I had plans that I left to come save you.”
Anakin raises his eyebrows at the mention of plans. “What plans?”
“Is that fucking important right now?”
Anakin wiggles his snakebites with his tongue as he looks at you. “Was it a date?”
You sigh heavily. “Yes it was.”
“First date?”
“Third.”
Anakin makes a huh noise faintly and you want to press him about it, but figure it’s better just to get him home and out of your sight before you punch him.
You start the car and pull out of the police station parking lot. You drive in silence for a few minutes, not having put on the radio in your rage.
“You weren’t drunk, were you?” you ask.
“Jesus,” he says, offended. “No, I wasn’t drunk.”
“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question. Do you have any idea how much stupid shit you do when you’re drunk?”
Anakin kicks his foot up on the dashboard and you quickly slap his thigh so he doesn’t scuff up your car with his obnoxious boot.
Before long, you turn into the parking lot of Anakin’s apartment complex and park in your usual spot. He gets out of the car, then you follow.
“You’re coming in?”
“I missed dessert. It’s the least you could do.”
Anakin attempts to smile at you, but that venture is short lived when he sees your annoyed expression illuminated by the street lights.
The two of you walk into the building and up the two flights of stairs to get to his door. He lets you in and you immediately walk over to the freezer, searching for something sweet.
“Ben’s out tonight,” he says.
“So was I, but you didn’t ask Ben to pick you up,” you respond, head still in the freezer.
“Come on, are we really gonna do this all night? Ben and I aren’t close like we are.”
You pick up a pint of half-eaten ice cream and close the freezer before opening all of the drawers until you find the spoons. You take the lid off the container and lean against the counter, glaring at Anakin where he sits at the counter.
“How was your date,” he asks.
“It was good until you dragged me away from it.”
Anakin looks down at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “Where’d he take you?”
You fill your mouth with a spoonful of ice-cream. “The restaurant on 15th,” you respond.
Anakin furrows his brows. “That place is a dump. Why would he take you there?”
“It’s not about the food, it’s about the company.”
Anakin scoffs. “It sounds like your company is a cheap asshole who doesn’t know how to treat you.”
You stare silently at Anakin while thoughts race through your mind. The first time you got Anakin from the police station was right after your first date, and you were late your second date because you had to drive Anakin home. In an instant, anger seethes inside of you. You drop the ice cream and spoon on the countertop and storm over to the back of Anakin’s chair.
He turns his head to track your movements. When you reach him, you twist your fingers in his dark hair and pull. His head snaps back and he whines in protest.
“You son of a bitch,” you hiss.
“What?” he asks.
“You’ve been purposely ruining my dates by getting arrested.” He whimpers at the painful tug on his roots. “You can’t tell me it’s a coincidence that I’ve had to get you when I was on dates.”
“Let me go and we can talk about this,” he tries to reason.
“No, Anakin. You’re perfectly capable of talking to me like this.”
Anakin sighs. “He’s not good enough for you.”
“You’ve never even met him,” you scoff.
“I don’t need to! I know he isn’t.”
Anakin tries to look at you upside down. He’s playing with his lip rings again, a nervous habit of his.
“And how the fuck would you know that?” you ask.
“Because he’s not me.”
You freeze, and for a moment your grip on his hair loosens. “What?”
Anakin fights against your hold and manages to break free. He stands up from the stool and faces you, the tension in his brows obvious.
“I don’t want you to date that guy. Fuck, I don’t want you to date any guy. Everyone you’ve ever dated has been an asshole and you don’t deserve that.”
“So, what, you’re not an asshole?”
“I am, but I would treat you right.”
“By getting arrested every night for stupid shit?”
Anakin groans. “Can we please stop talking about it?”
You narrow your eyes at him as realization dawns on you. “Were you trying to cockblock me?” Anakin doesn’t respond. All he does is look down at his yellow laced boots to hide the flush on his cheeks. “It was my third date tonight and you knew that. You didn’t want me to go home with him.”
“Christ, no, it’s not like that-”
“Then what is it, Anakin?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I just don’t get what you see in him.”
“He’s nice.”
Anakin chuckles. “You don’t want nice.”
“You have no idea what I want.”
Anakin steps forward to crowd you against the counter. You’re not intimidated by him, despite the height difference. Anakin may be bigger and stronger in pretty much every physical way, but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. And you know his weak spot.
“Tell me, then. What do you want?”
“A nice guy with a good job, life goals, and no criminal record.”
Anakin places his hands on the counter on either side of your body. “But does nice make you cum?”
You gasp. “Anakin!”
“I’m serious. Does your nice, regular guy do it for you?” He looks intently at your face, searching for an answer. “Or is it only guys with tattoos and a criminal record that gets your blood pumping like this?”
“We’re friends, Anakin,” you say instead of answering his question.
“That doesn’t have to change.” You sigh and look over your shoulder to collect yourself for a moment, needing a break from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “You’re angry at me and I’m sure you’re pent up because you were planning on getting fucked tonight. Kill two birds with one stone and fuck me.”
“I can’t believe you,” you say, looking back at him.
He smirks, biting his lip. “It’ll be good, I promise. You can hit me, bite me, scratch me, whatever. Use me however you want and you’ll see why nice isn’t better.”
“Fine,” you bite.
“Where do you want me?” he asks.
You look around the open floor plan apartment. “The couch.”
“Not the bed?”
“Nice guys fuck on beds. I thought you were different.”
Anakin backs off of you and walks over to the couch, sitting lazily as we waits for you to come over. His arms are splayed over the back and his legs are spread obnoxiously. You sit on the couch next to him and look at him expectantly.
“You’re not gonna kiss me?” you ask.
Anakin shrugs. “I don’t kiss sluts.”
You raise your eyebrows at that. “I’m a slut?”
“Oh yeah,” he leans closer to you, grasping gently at your jaw. “That’s why we’re a good match. You’re a slut who needs to be fucked hard and dirty, and I’m a bad guy who loves sluts like you.”
Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up. You’re watching his lips, noticing how his tongue swipes across them. Anakin trails his hand up your thigh and inches it closer to your clothed pussy.
“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk to me like that after the shit you pulled.”
Anakin backs off, his hands now kept to himself. “I’m all yours.”
You make a split second decision to crawl into his lap, and now that you’re seated on top of his thighs, you’re unsure what to do. His body is firm with muscle underneath you. You know he goes to the gym but you’ve never experienced his strength for yourself.
You push up the hem of his t-shirt and he takes the hint, raising his arms so you can pull it off. You’re met with the sight of his abs and chest covered with tattoos and the barbells that go through his nipples. You realize you’ve never seem him like this before and you curse yourself for not getting a glimpse sooner.
“You like what you see?” he asks cockily.
“Shut up, Anakin.”
You run your hands over his chest, dragging your nails down it to leave red marks on the pale skin. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of fucking you, but you are incredibly horny and need to get off.
“Lay down.”
He raises his eyebrows at you. “Talking to me like I’m a dog?”
“Yeah, I am. So be a good boy and lay down.”
You stand up from his lap and take off your bottoms while he changes positions. His legs are outstretched on the couch and his head is flat against the cushion.
You kneel on the couch, knees on either side of his head and you watch as he stares at your pussy.
“Like what you see?” you ask.
“Fuck yeah, I do. Been thinking ‘bout tasting this cunt since we met.”
Anakin reaches up to grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him. His nose hits your mound first, then you sit your pussy onto his mouth and chin.
He looks up at you from between your thighs as his tongue begins to explore between your folds. You wiggle your hips on top of him to get more friction, and to humiliate him a little by using him.
His nose bumps your clit as he licks thick stripes over your pussy. Anakin is attempting to taste every inch of you, and fuck, it feels good.
You reach down and grab his spiked hair with both hands like their reigns. You adjust yourself on his face so he’s hitting all the spots you want him to.
“Fuck, put your tongue inside me,” you order.
He does, and when you feel the hot muscle slide into you, you tug firmly on his hair. He groans into your pussy and fucks you with enthusiasm.
You pull on his hair again and his eyelids flutter. He clearly likes getting his hair pulled, and you enjoy causing him a little bit of pain.
“You got arrested all those times because you wanted me to sit on your fucking face? Why didn’t you just ask?”
You didn’t lift up so he could answer. It was a rhetorical question and if he stopped sucking on your clit, you would kill him.
“You were right, a nice guy wouldn’t let me drown him in my pussy.”
You grind down on his face and tug his head up to meet your body as you feel yourself getting closer.
“Don’t fucking stop, Anakin. I’m gonna cum,” you say.
His eyes are squeezed shut and his brows have a deep crease between them as he concentrates on pleasing you despite the ache that’s surely in his jaw.
“Fuck,” you gasp as you reach your peak.
Your thighs tighten around his head and he sucks firmly at your pussy to ride you through it. Your hips buck up, searching for more friction until your high passes.
You remain on him, but lean your hands back on his thighs to catch your breath. Your chest his heaving and your legs are shaking a bit.
Anakin pushes up on your thighs, signaling you to get off of him. You slide from his face down to his hips and straddle him there.
His hair is a mess, his face is wet, and his lips are swollen and red. “How was that?” he asks, voice rough.
“Nice,” you respond with a smirk.
Anakin glares at you. He sits up and grabs your hips tightly to hold you still as he grinds his hips on your ass. He spanks you with his right hand, making you gasp in surprise.
“I thought I got to do whatever I wanted?”
“You got your chance,” Anakin grumbles. “Now I’m not gonna be so nice.”
#anakin smut#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin x reader#star wars#star wars smut#star wars fanfiction#kinktober#kinktober 2023
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Feminism: David Hale x Reader (Feat: Jax Teller)
Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators @bennykk @kelpies-shed
Companion piece to Graffiti, Crime Wave, Distraction & Art School
Jax thinks that he was in love with you. The problem is you were bad for the club which meant you were bad for him so he cut you loose. It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do.
Your crime?
Feminism.
You don’t like the way the club treats it’s women and you’re vocal about it, not just to him but to others too. It gets Clay’s back up which is why his President tells him to put you in your place.
“A quick slap will knock that shit right out of her.” Clay tells him as he puffs on his cigar.
But Jax, he could never raise a hand to you so he does something worse, something irredeemable. He offers you out to the boys, he makes it clear you’re fair game, free for a fuck. He does it because he knows you’ll never stand for it, that you’ll be out of the door as soon as you realise he’s betrayed you.
“She’s a firecracker when you get her started, pull her hair, choke her a little and she’ll be the sweetest gash you’ll ever have.”
The words taste like poison on his tongue as he looks at you over by the bar, talking to one of the croweaters. You have no idea what’s coming.
It’s Tig that takes a run at you, that puts your hand on his cock and tells you he knows exactly what you like. You almost twist his balls off before giving Jax a look of complete contempt. That’s the night he comes home to find a five foot dick spray painted across the front of his house and David Hale tucking you into the back of a cruiser because a neighbour called the cops.
“Look, don’t charge her.” He tells Hale because he knows it’s shit like this that will get you kicked out of art school and he can’t stand to be the man that shatters your dreams. “I deserved this.”
“I have no doubt about that.” Hale tells him as he jots something down in his notebook before slipping it into his pocket. “I’m just surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”
He doesn’t see you again for a couple of months after that and that’s the way he likes it. He knuckles down, focuses on the club, fucks every woman that crosses his path. That’s how he learns to forget you, if he’s buried in pussy he’s not thinking about the woman who isn’t occupying his bed.
He doesn’t expect to see you on Main Street, he doesn’t expect it to be with Hale. He’s heard rumours that the Deputy Chief is seeing someone, that he’s got some prep in his step. It isn’t until now that he realises it’s you.
The two of you are outside the ice cream shop, waiting for the queue to die down. Hale’s arm is around your shoulders, his lips by your ear as he whispers something into it. You tip your head back and laugh and that sound, Christ it feels like his heart is being ripped right out of his chest.
It gets worse because there’s love there, real love. He can see it as clear as day. It’s in the way your fingertips chase along Hale’s jaw, your thumb brushing over his cheek. When you kiss him, it’s with a tenderness that the two of you never had and that’s when Jax realises that he’s fucked up. The man you’re in love with, he’s determined to bring down SAMCRO and there’s no way in hell Jax can ever let that happen.
Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
#david hale#david hale x reader#deputy david hale#deputy chief hale#soa#jax teller#sons of anarchy imagine#jax teller x reader
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I just rewatched atwow and had a scene in mind that I hope I’ll see some interpretation of in the third movie. Just a bit of character interaction.
A scene I hope to see in Avatar 3
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Quaritch froze when he saw a familiar silhouette covered in war-paint, and his heart sank to the bottom of the earth when he realised whom he was up against.
Spider, covered in blue and red stripes, with bow in hand and back turned, scouting the corridors of the warship, littered with corpses and broken equipment.
In his disbelief, Miles lost control of himself as he stood up from the crouch and lowered his gun. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He half-whispered.
Spider turned in a second, ready to shoot an arrow, only to freeze the same way the recom had. “..Quaritch?”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Huh??” Miles raised his voice and practically leapt forward, grabbing the surprised blonde by his forearm. “This is a goddamn warship! Who let-how did you even get here, dumbass?!” he yelled at him.
“Grrh-let GO!” Spider tried desperately to free himself but Miles shook him, not letting the kid reach the blade on his hip.
“Do you understand what the hell you have gotten yourself-of course you don’t.” the colonel interrupted himself, his mind running circles around his tongue. He pulled the kid to the nearest metal structure and cuffed him. This scene looked oddly familiar to the one that occurred months ago on the Sea Dragon.
“Who do you think you are, kid? Some knight in shining armor?? A mighty warrior!?” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder, forcing him to hold eye contact.
“Maybe I am!” He snapped back. If there is one thing Spider always had plenty of, it’s audacity, but so did Miles.
“Oh really? How old are you?” He shook him again when no response came “tell me! How old are you!?”
“Sixteen-”
“EXACTLY!” Quaritch roared in Spider’s face, causing him to flinch. He wasn’t expecting his father captor to get so angry, and didn’t expect to feel embarrassed either. “You see these bodies?!” The colonel pointed at the corpses everywhere “This is a battlefield! Not fucking a laser tag arena!“
“WELL SO WHAT IF I’M HERE!? What’s it to you? Huh? Why do you care?!”
Quaritch stilled, taken off-guard by the direct question and didn’t respond, instead opting to rip the communicator off of Spider’s neck to contact Jake, who was somewhere on this ship. He had to be if Spider was present.
He pressed a button, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Hello Jake. I bet you didn’t expect to hear from me again, but let’s skip straight to the point. I’ve got your glorified child soldier here, and if you decide to skip our little reunion I swear on my blood that I’ll blow his brains out.” He growled lowly. Moments after, Spider instinctively turned his head to the sound In his left ear and frowned. Sully responded. “I’m near the cockpit, in the main room. Don’t keep us waiting.” The colonel dropped the small device onto the floor before stomping on it, essentially cutting Spider off.
And so they began waiting. Miles with his gun raiser and Spider slumped against his leg; until he noticed something curious on recom’s right hand.
“Is that….is that my songcord?”
The question made Miles’s eyes widen as he looked at his wrist in alarm and sure enough, there it was. Spider’s songcord, the one one he lost after the Sea Dragon battle, the one Miles had found stuck to his vest and wore on his hand since. He completely forgot about it.
Shit. How utterly embarrassing.
“...yeah, um” lost for words, he hastily untied it and put the string into spider’s outstretched, cuffed palms. “Here. I uh…thought you’d want it back. Or…something.” He shrugged, looking hard at the wall on the other side of the room and refusing to meet Spider’s eyes, but even then he knew the brat was smiling.
“…thank you.” Quartich heard a calm, kind voice and most of the tension in his shoulders disappeared, as his hold on the rifle weakened.
“Mhm” he nodded weakly, feeling pressure return to his leg as Spider slumped against him once more, but he made no attempt at pushing his son hostage away. The warmth felt grounding.
As the silence persisted, Spider spoke again. “You’re stupid, you know that?” he chuckled sadly, and a tiny smirk tugged at recom’s lips as his tail curled up around the kid.
“It runs in the family.” Miles responded, his voice soft as the two lingered in the feeling of being together, like they did when flying on Cupcake, or when first arriving on the Sea Dragon, back when their relationship was somewhat blooming, back when Quaritch didn’t yet royally fuck it up by persisting with his mission.
Back when they had a chance.
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Author’s notes: Phew! Anyway, here y’a go, my piece of character chemistry I would like to see more go in the next movie. Hopefully this was written in-character enough to be believable 😭 pleas let me know your thoughts in the comments or drop them in my ask-box!
#avatar spider#avatar 2#avatar#spider socorro#avatar headcanons#avatar way of water#miles quaritch#avatar quaritch#miles spider soccoro#recom quaritch#spider avatar#miles socorro#avatar miles quaritch#na’vi quaritch#spider soccoro#miles soccoro#miles spider socorro#quaritch avatar
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A Lot to Learn
(GIF credit - jasvvy)
18+, Drew McIntyre x Logan Paul, one-shot
[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]
Tags: Slight age difference, face fucking, anal sex, bruises, come eating
Word count: 2110
Author's Note: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Logan pranced. He pranced and paraded and trounced around backstage like the little boy he was. There was only a ten year age difference between him and Drew, but it felt more like fifteen. He was just so immature— he had no idea what it was like to work his way up to the top. Drew had to claw to the main event, just to have the floor fall out from under him when it was his moment to shine. Logan skipped his way in with his silly social media clout and got the US title bestowed on him like a crown. A crown for a prince that would never truly be a king, a holdover belt to tide his ego over. At least Drew could say there was some prestige to the World Heavyweight Championship. With him earning it, because there was no other option but for him to win, it would gain even more honor. He was a Top Guy, an important figure, something Logan Paul could never be.
“You’re pushing my buttons, kid. I suggest you go find someone else to mess with.”
“No man, I’m doing just fine right here. Am I bothering you?”
Yes.
“You bother me the same way a gnat does. Mild irritation, nothing I can’t handle.”
“Oh?”
Drew shut his eyes and let his hands rest behind his head. Once Elimination Chamber was over, he and Logan would not be anywhere near each other event-wise. He could focus on more important, worthy opponents, men with years of experience that showed in their sore muscles and scratched up bodies. Logan’s chest was disgustingly unblemished. No scars or bruising, no ring burn discoloring his skin. It was soft, it was pretty… it was fresh. It’d been a while since Drew had seen anyone with so much newness about themselves. Apparently no one had gotten to him yet, not even Roman from what the locker room gossip whispered through the grapevine. So Logan was a bit of a princess, wasn’t just letting any knight in the castle. Interesting images began to form in Drew’s mind.
“Don’t you have to go get ready.” Drew hoped the finality in his voice came across to Logan. It seemed to register in his head, only to be immediately tossed out into his mental wastebin. Logan looked down at his silly yellow vest and smiled the smile of someone who knew how annoying he was being.
“I am ready.”
Drew laughed. Ready, sure. Oh, the boy thought he was.
—-
Elimination Chamber was a hard fought match. Once again though, Drew did what he did best. He brawled and won as it was meant to be. Even with Randy stalking around, Bobby giving it a fair shake, and LA Knight showing impressive drive to be the best, the other men didn’t stand a chance against Drew. His prophecy was inching closer to being fulfilled, with no help from Logan buzzing around the ring. He spent a good majority of the match taunting him, which Drew thought was quite bold. It was cute, he was like a puppy nipping at his heels for attention. Drew had noticed that was just the way he was, always poking and prodding at bigger men for scraps of acknowledgement. Maybe it was time to give him what he needed so he’d stop being such a fucking nuisance.
“Great job out there Drew. Hope my dick drawing didn’t distract you too much.” Logan stood at Drew’s door a sweaty, disheveled, slightly pink mess. That worn out, used up look fit him a lot better.
“Not at all. Nothing was going to get in my way of going to Wrestlemania… not you or your dick, sweetheart.”
A separate, deeper flush than the one that painted his chest colored Logan’s face as he smiled again. It didn’t quite reach his eyes this time due to some sort of anticipation and fear that flashed in his irises.
“Thinking about my dick, are you Drew? I’m not surprised, I tend to have that effect on people.”
“You’re quite smug for someone who's had everything handed to him.”
Drew was up and approaching Logan before he could run out of the door and back into his hidey-hole of a dressing room. Probably nothing but bottles of Prime and yes men in there waiting to praise Logan for the bare minimum of selling like he was supposed to and not injuring anyone. It made Drew sick. Logan looked down at the knob and felt the cold surface of the door against his back while Drew’s heavy breathing made his chest rise and touch his. Drew had a lot of dark chest hair that Logan suddenly had to urge to rub his face in.
“You’re right, I have been given a lot. I can admit that I always get what I want, as long as I ask for it.” Logan stared up into Drew’s eyes with a pout that immediately made Drew’s cock stiffen up.
“So you just asked for big matches? For the US Championship?”
“I asked. Triple H and the executives felt like I deserved it. It was a mutual thing.”
Drew’s expression hardened. What a little jerk, throwing his weight around like that. Of course they would let him get high profile events, he had millions of followers. That meant he deserved shots that the other guys who’d started out wrestling in high school gyms for free food would have never bothered to dream of.
“What are you going to ask for now?”
The skin around Logan’s eyes creased when he laughed. It sounded undone and nervous, no usual unearned confidence making it too loud of a noise.
“You gonna show me more of what’s under that kilt? I think you tried flashing me as a distraction so you could win.”
“I would’ve won whether I did or didn’t flash you.”
Drew removed his kilt and pulled down his trunks in quick succession, exposing himself to Logan without ever looking away from his face. The sides of Logan’s mouth twitched when he saw how perfectly thick Drew’s cock was. It was crazy he wore trunks knowing he was that was big.
“Nice.”
“Hm. You know what you’re gonna do for me, Logan? You’re going to earn what you want tonight. For the first time in your life, you’re going to have to work for your reward. Got it?”
Logan shrugged and decided to throw caution to the wind. He always got what he wanted in the end. It might take a few false starts and pit stops, but it worked out in one way or the other. He rubbed his face into Drew’s chest and inhaled deeply. His post-match sweat was intoxicatingly strong and only served to make Logan rush to get on his knees. Drew rolled his eyes at the way he exaggeratingly crossed his eyes at the length of his dick. Everything was a joke to this kid.
Logan pulled out his own cock as he took Drew into his warm mouth. The scent of his sweat was amplified twice over that close to his balls and his mass of equally dark pubic hair. Wrapping his hand around himself, he felt precome drip out onto his fingers. Drew was already groaning from the way Logan hollowed out his cheeks around his dick.
“You’re a pro at this, huh? Been getting your practice in on the other boys?”
“Not yet,” Logan squeezed himself and stroked with a fervor, then continued to suck.
Drew couldn’t help but to feel like he was going to come thinking about Logan with his mouth open and waiting for Roman or LA Knight or Santos, any one of the guys he’d provoked over the last year or so, to paint his tongue back to back. His hands reached to grab into the weirdly cut strands of Logan’s hair so he could push his dick past his tongue and down into his throat. Surprisingly he took it well with no tears spilling out or teeth scraping the sensitive skin. Drew closed his eyes and shoved Logan’s head completely against himself, letting the boy gag around him until he slapped a hand against his thigh to let him breathe. Although he felt like he’d die from the loss of sensation and wet, pretty noises, Drew slowly removed himself from Logan’s mouth.
“I was just about to come too, fuck.” Logan poked his bottom lip out petulantly.
“You’ll be happy you didn’t.”
Logan was pulled up off of his knees only to be dragged over to the nearest couch. Drew took his time and got comfortable when sat down on it, spreading his legs wide open and letting his cock bob in the air.
“Come on, take those off and come sit in my lap,” Drew patted at his upper thighs, also covered in hair, and winked at Logan. He wasn’t done with him yet, not by a long shot. From the speed in which Logan stripped down, he knew he wasn't done either.
Drew picked up a bottle of lube from the side table and squeezed a generous amount into his hand to smooth across his dick. All of Logan’s thoughts, what few he had in the first place, left the building when he sank down onto Drew in one swift movement. Drew’s eyes widened in surprise; he didn’t know Logan was that capable.
“Aren’t you a good boy?”
Drew began to fuck up into Logan before he could respond. His face slackened up in ecstasy with every thrust inside of him. Logan attempted to ride back against him, but his aching legs betrayed him by shaking. Not only was he being fucked harder than he’d ever been, the chamber match had done a number on him too. Maybe Drew and the others thought he was just there to bring fresh eyes to the program, but he really was trying his hardest in the ring. Just as soon as he was ready to give up and let himself enjoy it all, Drew pressed his fingers harshly into the flesh of his hips. The sudden pain gave him a jolt that motivated him to grind deep and huff out shallowly.
“There you go. I knew you’d like that, baby,” Drew smoothed over the marks he’d left deep in Logan’s skin. It was a good thing he wore tights instead of trunks, or else the top brass would have his head for leaving their golden boy all ruined. Logan responded with a steadying breath that turned into a destroyed moan when Drew grabbed at his twitching cock. Gasps fell from Logan’s mouth every time Drew stroked him with his rough palm while he plunged himself as far as he could go inside of him.
“Please Drew, please—“
Drew watched as Logan’s body shuddered hard while he came. It leaked out messily onto his hand, Logan bucking up into his fist involuntarily from the orgasm. His vision cleared up enough to see Drew holding up said hand to his lips for him to clean up. With the first couple of licks, Drew once again sank his fingers back into the bruises on Logan’s hip to lift him up off of his dick. Seconds later, he felt the warmth of Drew’s come splash across his ass and the very bottom of his lower back.
“Really got me good here,” Logan ran the pads of his fingers against his reddish-purple bruises and bit back a moan.
“Wanted to leave a little something behind. Now you’ve got some scars, something that proves you can take a little pain. It looks like you like having them, too, which is an even better sign. It means you’re finally on your way to becoming a worthy competitor. Maybe one day you’ll face me for the title.”
Drew’s smile was patronizingly sweet as he ruffled up Logan's stupid haircut further. Logan was still a young man. It’d take a lot of hard work and practice, not necessarily with Drew alone, to really turn him into the best he could be.
“Yeah, maybe so.”
“Until then, you come find me or any of the other guys and we’ll try to help you, okay?”
Logan nodded as he put his gear back on in a daze, not even bothering to clean himself up.
“We won’t break you— not too badly anyways.”
Logan let a weird smile spread across his face when he reached the doorway. It was huge, all teeth and kind of crazy with the corresponding way his pupils blew out and let the blue that surrounded them turn into little slivers..
“What if I wanna be broken?”
#drew mcintyre#logan paul#wwe#elimination chamber#wrestling#magnoliafanfic#wrestling smut#wwe smut#wwe fanfiction
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- Billy Hargrove x Reader
• Angst (with happy ending)
• Part 1
• MAIN-MASTER-LIST
Warnings: love confessions, smoking, kissing, implied jealousy, mentions of fear, implied guilt, mentioned abuse
Synopsis: Two broken and beaten hearts finally become one in a hazy dream of running away from everything. Or Y/n finally opens up and tells the truth of her life behind the façade
A/n: I’m sorry this took so long, I’ve been busy and only just found the time as I have a long list of fics to write and part twos are closer to the bottom, but I finally got around to it. Those of you who have requested to be tagged have been at the bottom.
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I walked into his room, clothes strewn all over the floor, old cigarette smoke still lingering clinging to the orange light that hung from the middle of his ceiling, it smelt like cheap cologne and hair products . I jumped at the sound of the door slamming behind me. Turning to see Billy lighting a new cig.
Freezing fingertips pulling the jacket that slipped from my shoulder back to where it should be, as if the damp material could offer me any sort of warmth. He pointed to his bed telling me to sit as he filtered through his wardrobe for something. “Here,” he said tossing me some clothes.
I held up the jumper. ‘HAWKINS HIGH SCHOOL’ plastered on the front in bold green letters. My thumbs digging into the soft material, I lowered the jumper my eyes meeting his, they traced my face delicately. He cleared his throat plucking the cig from between his lips.
“You can change in here I’m going to go ask Max what pizza she wants. Oh and don’t touch anything,” he said gruffly, back turned towards me hand scratching the back of his head. I watched as he left making sure the door was shut snug.
I made quick work of changing out of the damp clothes, neatly folding them and placing them in a pile on the floor amidst his messy mountains of clothes. I stood up, hands softly flattening the jumper. I walked to his desk, fingers gently skimming over the different things, rings, necklaces.
I stopped picking up the box of condoms, rolling my eyes a disgusted sound leaving my lips as I flipped the packet over opening the flap and only seeing two left. Billy Hargrove the ultimate frat fuck boy. I chuckled. I put down the packet where I found wiping my hands on the sweat pants he had leant me.
My eyes wondered his walls taking in all the band posters, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Motley Crew and lets not forget the pictures of topless and bikini models.
I noticed how the red paint hand began to peel and how the wardrobe and door had holes in them as if someone had punched through them, whether it was Billy or not was the real question that swam around in my mind.
My eyes caught the metallic gleam of the silver photo frame, I walked towards it, picking it up from its respected pace, running my thumb over the textured frame. I smiled gently at the picture.
A pretty woman and a sweet little boy hugging her leg. Big happy shining smiles plastered on the faces, the visible gleam from the sun on the picture and I suddenly remember Billy came here from California.
“Hey what pizz- what are you doing?” I quickly put the picture down, spinning around with reddened cheeks - embarrassed at the fact I got caught snooping. His eyes drifted from me to the photo frame next to me, confusion turning into a steady glare.
“I specifically said don’t touch anything,” he stomped towards me. Pushing me out of the way inspecting the photo making sure I hadn’t tampered with it in any way. “Is that your mom?” I asked softly sitting back down on the bed.
“Yea,” he said. I stared at the way his eyebrows creased as he stared at the happy faces captured. “She’s beautiful.” I chewed the inside of my cheek awaiting something, anything. A punch, a screaming match, but instead I watched as his lips dared to twist into a smile, twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Yea she was,” he sighed.
I looked down at my hands in my lap, twiddling my fingers. He stood up straight putting the photo into a draw, slamming it shut. “So the pizza?” He questioned once again a new cigarette back between his lips. Damn that’s like now three in just over an hour. He held the pack out towards me.
I grabbed the packet flicking the lid open, the smell of tobacco wafting into my face. I picked out the last one, copying his actions and placing it in between my lips. “Any is fine,” I said. He nodded in consideration. I leant forward towards the light he held out towards me.
Closing my eyes as I inhaled, shoulders sagging in comfort. It’s a bad habit, I know. He came and sat beside me, exhaling. I flopped backwards, exhaling just as he did. Humming a random tune, enjoying the way my mind fell into a silent peace like the drifting ocean in a summer breeze.
The bed groaned as he lied next to me just as I was. “So are you ever going to tell me who did that to you?” I sighed, the smoke drifting from my nose accompanied by a subtly burn so delicious: a distraction from the truth.
“You first,” I snapped. I wasn’t mad, but there was something so humiliating admitting the fact that the person who is meant to love you hits you, its so degrading and shameful. Its like I deserve it no matter how many time I tell myself I don’t.
“It’s him isn’t it?” He said confidently, the bed groaning as he rolled onto his side. I turned my head towards him whispering a small, “What?” I looked back up at the peeling ceiling, already feeling the familiar sting of tears in my eyes, “I- I- don’t know what you’re talking about,” I chuckled, voice cracking. Taking a long drag of the quickly withering cigarette.
“You know you don’t have to protect him. What kind of dick hits his girlfriend?” I gulped, but the knot lodged in my throat wouldn’t shift. “He doesn’t deserve you.” The tears finally fell, I put out the cig in the ashtray next to me, watching as it splintered praying that my crying would stop.
Laying back down my eyes finding a new place to look. “I didn’t - I didn’t think he would he would hit me in my face, usually it’s just my ribs or a slaps me, but he had been drinking with his friends and there I was stood outside of his house waiting for him to come home after I had been sat on my own door step waiting for his dumbass to come pick me up for over an hour,” I clenched and grinded my teeth in anger.
“After I had told him that this would be the last time he would see me as his girlfriend and not ‘just some whore he used to date’ he dragged me inside and grabbed my face,” I breathed shakily,
“‘You got someone else? Huh! I knew I should never have dated such a fucking whore like you. You’d drop your panties for any guy with a heart beat. You’re lucky I’m even still tolerating you,’” I closed my eyes remembering the fear that had coursed through my veins. At the point I thought him just grabbing my jaw like that could break it. The smell of beer causing my stomach to churn.
“I had grabbed his arms and tried to run away, but he had pulled me back. At that point I had lunged forward and scratched his face, I had never fought back ever. That is what made him really mad and then - and then he punched me straight in the eye and left me on the floor telling me to get out and that he never wants to see me again, and to top things off it’s our anniversary, I chuckled and rolled over facing him.
His jaw was clenched as were his hands, knuckles white with a searing anger. His eyebrows were knit together and he breathed heavily. He reached forward, palm on my face as his thumb wiped away my tears. Flinching, I closed my eyes before sighing and revelling in the soft touch. Eyes staring at the swirling purples, greens and blues mingling under my eye and on the cheek bone.
“Why do you hate me?” I whispered. He stopped his movements pulling hand away. His eyes moved from the bruise to mine, tonging the inside of his cheek pondering the question.
“I...don’t hate you,” he whispered back, “I just hated the fact that you were with him. I hated the way his arm would be around you or his hand in your back pocket. I hated the way he kissed you. I hated the way you smiled and laughed at his jokes. I hated the way he would brag about cheating on you or how he mad you cum.” Tongue swiping across his bottom lip, dragging it into his mouth, biting the soft flesh picking his next words carefully.
“But most of all I hated the way that you looked at him because,” his voice fell off pausing. My heart sped up as I moved closer. My eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “Because?” I whispered.
“Because,” he breathed shakily looking down, “because I wanted you to look at me that way.” My eyes softened as I looked at him. I never thought I would ever get to see Billy Hargrove the ultimate frat fuck boy act shy.
He lifted his head, our noses almost touching. And this close I could see the freckles that were scattered across his face. “Well,” I swallowed. “When I wasn’t laughing at his jokes, or hand his arm around me,” I looked down threading my fingers with his.
“I dreamt of what life would be like with out him, to run away from this place, from him, from this bullshit life.” I looked back into his eyes, you could get lost in them - a swimming pool of hidden emotion. “Do you want to run away with me...Billy?” We moved impossibly closer to each other.
“Yes,” he whispered barely audible. “Where would we go?” he asked pressing our foreheads together. I looked up thinking for a second before softly smiling, my mind flicking back to the way he tried not to smile at that photo of him and his mom.
“What about California?” He closed his eyes smiling fondly. I licked my lips my heart beating faster and faster as silence spread over the room. Comforting and sweet, lit by the orange light.
“Yes,” he breathed. He leant forward, our lips pressing together gingerly. Tender and supple I almost didn’t feel it. We pulled apart, taking a second to admire one another before leaning back in.
This kiss. This kiss had pent up desire and passion behind it, ensuring red and swollen lips once finished. But I’m not sure whether I want his moment to ever end.
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@quietghostwitch
#dahliarosebud#Billy Hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#abuse#toxic relationship#billy hargrove stranger things#stranger things#billy x reader#billy x y/n#billy x you#billy stranger things#billy#hargrove#angst#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove fluff#angst with a happy ending#love#jealousy
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Are You Ready For It
In the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do
Summary: When Elain Archeron's roommate can't interview wealthy business man and school alumni Lucien Vanserra, Elain agrees to step in.
Little does she know what Mr. Vanserra does behind closed doors.
Or what he'd do to her, if she'd only agree to let him.
NOTE: Since this is a 50 shades of grey re-write, there is absolutely BDSM inside. It has been re-written to include an incredibly amount of consent/discussion/enthusiastic participation. However, if BDSM isn't your thing, it's just not your thing. No shame in the game. There is also some light DV but that occurs from a villain and not between the main LI's, but it will be included in the tags on AO3. Please use discretion when reading.
Also I've never read 50 sog so my knowledge is based on what I've heard. This is more like 50 shades of orange
written for @queenofsilverfire and @sjmkinkmeme
beta'd by the incomparable @the-lonelybarricade
Chapter 1: Some boys are trying too hard
Read more: AO3 | 15k words
Autumn in Velaris was Elain Archeron’s favorite time of year. In between the start of the semester madness of a new year and finals, October was a personal sweet spot for the college senior. Elain was looking forward to the future, one that saw her on her own for the first time in her life. Her roommate, Arina, would be moving out of their little shoebox apartment to live with her boyfriend Jack and Elain intended to take over the rent full-time. She’d been working more hours for a florist, squirreling away everything as best she could in order to ensure she’d have enough to live on.
It was a small life but it was hers.
Elain biked from campus to her apartment, a mere seven blocks from the ancient, storied halls of Velaris U. The majority of the people living in the four story walk-up where also students which meant at any given time Elain could hear fucking, fucking, and partying through the paperthin walls. Rent was cheap and the neighborhood nice enough though the trade-off was the landlord was not interested in doing any maintenance at all. The gray hallway carpet must have been two decades old and the paint was peeling from every wall. Inside the apartment, Elain ignored the creeping black on the shower tile, scrubbing it away only for it to return with the humidity every spring.
Housing was expensive and Elain, like Arina, was poor. Splitting rent meant they always had money for cute shoes and clothes and, when the mood struck them, a drink at the bar. Elain stepped inside to find Arina sliding on a tall pair of heels. She was a cocktail waitress at a local sports bar that exclusively hired hot, tall co-eds. Elain had been offered a job more times than she could count and chose to see it as a flattering thing, though Arina’s shorts were basically cheeky underwear with sheer black tights beneath and the top was an actual sports bra.
“Do me a favor tomorrow,” Arina began by way of greeting.
“Missed you too,” Elain replied, setting her keys on the dingy kitchen countertop. Arina winced, pulling her thick, blonde hair up in a high ponytail.
“I’m supposed to be interviewing some hot shot CEO type for the school paper tomorrow. He's a former alum and this is a huge favor. I can’t make it, Jack—”
Elain groaned at the sound of Jack’s name, plopping onto the thrifted seafoam green couch. “C’mon. Don’t be shitty about Jack.”
“And Jack? Is he allowed to be shitty?” Elain replied. Jack, who was so far beneath Arina as a dropout, wanna be streamer with a paltry following of two hundred. Elain had more instagram likes on a photo of the sunset than Jack had views on every bad video he’d ever made. He didn’t work, mooched off Arina for everything, and still had the audacity to treat her like she ought to be grateful to have him.
Elain didn’t get it. Jack was mediocre at best and Arina could have modeled if she wanted. Men routinely stopped her on the street to ask for her number and had literal celebrities in her DM’s on instagram. Jack was pale and skinny, unwashed and foul-mouthed. He’d never liked Elain and the only saving grace had always been that Elain wasn’t willing to abandon Arina like Jack wanted. For four years, Elain had been Arina’s roommate.
She would have continued, but Jack was dangling the promise of marriage over Arina’s head in exchange for her moving in full time. Elain understood it—Arina would spend the rest of her life financing his life while he played video games all day. Jack lacked all of Arina’s ambition and drive.
Arina didn’t respond to Elain’s question, turning plaintive green eyes on her friend. “Will you for me? Thrity minutes if that. I’m sure he’s way too busy. I emailed him all my questions this morning so all you have to do is repeat them for him, record his answers, and thank him for his time. Please?”
Arina, head of the school paper, wanted to be a journalist someday. Elain sighed.
“I guess I can give some billionaire the ‘ol razzle dazzle. What’s his name?”
“Lucien Vanserra. He’s got some fancy tech company.”
“Vanserra? Like the Senator?” she questioned. Arina nodded with big eyes.
“Yeah. His oldest brother is the state’s senator in D.C. So he’s well connected. Just give him some doe eyes—yes, just like that—ask your questions and you’re free for the rest of the day.”
“Fine,” Elain agreed. “But you know I lack all your charm, so don’t be surprised when he writes a very angry e-mail.”
Arina rolled her eyes, well aware that when men found charming about her laid between her legs. “Thanks for this. Gray called, by the way. If you want to call him back.”
Arina still had a landline, complete with an actual voicemail. She thought it was charming though Elain found nothing charming about the shrill ring of ruby red phone at seven in the morning. Gray was her very recent ex and not by her design. He’d ended things, saying he wanted to meet new people in the last year of their relationship.
And Elain was still miserable over it. He wanted to be friends but Elain wanted to be in love. She’d blocked him so he’d stop sending her memes because it made her too hopeful he had changed his mind. She knew he hadn’t—she’d heard he’d slept with some girl in a sorority that same night. He merely wanted to keep her on the backburner and Elain needed to patch up her battered, bruised heart.
“Thanks,” Elain murmured, suddenly guilty she’d been so harsh about Jack. Arina only nodded.
“Don’t wait up. My shift doesn’t end until one am but I can never kick those shitheads out until three.”
Elain nodded, watching as Arina grabbed her giant white purse and marched out. Arina made twice as much money as Elain did on one shift, though the trade was men constantly tried to touch her breasts. Elain didn’t envy her that.
She spent the evening working on homework and watching television when she could take staring at her screen for a moment longer. She wanted to stay awake for Arina and was forced to give up early in the morning for bed.
Elain woke in the middle of the night to Arina’s giggling voice and a man—Jack— stumbling their way through the apartment. Elain reached in the dark for a shoe laying on the floor and threw it at the wall.
“SHUT UP!” she yelled, earning exaggerating whispering and a distinctly deep, masculine voice that did not belong to Jack.
“You have a roommate?”
Elain dug out ear plugs just in time for the moaning to start. Grabbing her phone on the side table, she noted the time was three thirty. Elain wasn’t about to condemn Arina for a one-night stand even if she did have a boyfriend. Maybe this was the first step in convincing Arina to leave him.
Still, Elain woke bleary eyed at seven am to shower and do her hair ahead of the ten am meeting with the tech CEO. Lucien Vanserra. It was the sort of name that belonged to some snooty fifty something named by some bored heiress who wanted her son to sound more european.
Elain curled her waist length, golden blonde hair carefully, letting it tumble down her back before she spent an hour carefully applying make-up so it seemed as if she wore none at all. She knew those types—something about the name Lucien made her think he was the sort of man that liked natural looking women, when there was nothing natural about her carefully lined pink lips.
Dressed in a green and blue plaid dress and nice brown heels, Elain grabbed Arina’s list of questions from the counter, a sensible purse, made her way out of the apartment.
As Elain was walking down, Jack was trudging up. Blue eyes swept over her, a sneer curling over his lips. He always looked at her like that, like she was the most disgusting filth he’d ever seen though Elain had it on good authority she looked quite pretty.
“Arina’s not in,” Elain told him by way of greeting. “Early morning meeting with her advisor.”
“She didn’t tell me that,” he snapped. Elain only shrugged.
“Maybe she’s ending things. Fingers crossed.”
“Bitch,” he hissed, shoulder checking her as she jogged down the steps. It had hurt her feelings once, the way he so casually called her that. Now, though, it was nothing to her. Every woman who disagreed with him was a bitch.
And Arina had brought home a man that wasn’t Jack. For whatever reason, Arina had abandoned her deeply held loyalty and Elain would cover for her. Jack was just behind her, shoving her at the bottom of the landing with the flat of his hand. Elain slammed into the glass door as a result, wincing from the force.
“Clumsy bitch,” he grumbled, slamming the door in her face and kicking her bike as he passed. As if it were her fault he wasn’t getting his filthy dick wet at nine in the morning. Elain was pissed by the time she got on the road, made worse by shitty drivers in big cars that seemed to have a personal problem with cyclists. She caught sight of her face in the mirrored window of the Vanserra building, noting the purpling bruise along her cheekbone. Fucking Jack.
She pushed it out of her mind for the moment. Get through this interview and then she’d call Arina and rant. Elain took a breath and plastered a smile on her face. Thirty minutes.
The lobby was sleek and clean, all tinted glass windows and shiny, slippery floors. There was a coffee stand opposite the elevators and huge, potted trees to offer color to the otherwise very corporate lobby. She walked to the front desk where a pretty blonde in a headset stared at her phone.
“Lucien Vanserra?” she asked when blue eyes flicked to her face. The woman clacked long nails on her keys.
“Arina?”
“Yep,” Elain lied, flashing Arina’s student ID so quickly the girl couldn’t get a read on it. Not that she cared—that receptionist could not have been more bored if she tried.
“I’ll let him know you’re on your way up. Twenty fourth floor.”
“Great,” Elain replied, though it wasn’t great at all. She joined the crowd of nice suits and skirts all huddled around the six doors that would take her upwards, glancing at the mirror between two of the elevators. She would have been flawless had it not been for that bruise. It wouldn’t matter—she doubted he’d notice. It was merely a stain to her vanity and a reminder that Jack was the worst man she’d ever met.
Vanserra’s floor was just as sleek and just as clinical. Laminate wood broke up the heavy, shiny tile from the lobby though the effect was hardly better. Another blonde at another mahogany desk was waiting with the same annoyed expression. “You’re early,” the girl told her.
Elain glanced at her phone. Early by two whole minutes.
“Sorry,” she replied, her voice betraying just how not sorry she was. Elain took a seat on a nice elegant couch, practically sinking into the middle. She had to cross her legs not to look ridiculous or risk showing anywhere the underwear beneath her dress. While she waited, she pulled out her phone.
Sorry about last night.
Thanks for not telling Jack.
I don’t know what got into me.
Let me know how the interview goes. I don’t think I’m going to see him tonight.
Are you mad?
Elain typed out a quick of course I’m not, I’ll see you soon just as the blonde answered a shrill, ringing phone. Her eyes slid to Elain before she murmured agreement.
“Mr. Vanserra will see you now.”
Why did she make that sound so ominous? Elain gingerly rose to her feet, ignoring the irritated receptionist and her clicking teeth. Was it a requirement to work for the Vanserras that a person have the worst attitude known to man? Elain followed the girl, dressed in a nice pencil skirt and tucked in white top, through an open desk space where people milled about, working and talking and generally going about their day. It seemed casual enough despite the heels on the girl in front of her. Elain caught jeans and legging on more than one person. The whole back wall was a long window overlooking the city, allowing sunlight to pour directly into the room.
She knew the corner office belonged to Vanserra before the door was ever pulled open. Tinted glass made it impossible to see in, though she was willing to bet he could see everything. King of his domain, ever the micromanager. The blonde rapped sharply on the glass, her sour mood melting into breathless fascination.
“Mr. Vanserra? Your ten o'clock is here.”
The tall, leather backed chair swiveled to look at Elain understood what had turned the angry receptionist into a purring kitten. She blinked at the man staring back at her, his shoulder length, auburn hair loose around his chiseled, golden brown face. Russet eyes peered at her with clinical interest and Elain wondered how he’d gotten the trio of scars etched through his otherwise immaculately thick brows. A full mouth turned upwards in a polite smile and when he stood she found that he was tall, well over six foot, and muscular despite the suit that hid his frame.
“Thanks, Beth.”
“Of course. If you need anything,” she added, drawing a bewildered look from Elain. It was so openly suggestive that Elain couldn’t help her open mouth surprise. Was that how he ran his business?
He didn’t react. “Of course.”
And that was that. Lucien gestured for her to sit across his desk in another large chair, this one with a seat firm enough she didn’t sink to her neck. Elain’s eyes glanced over the shelves of books and the table of neatly organized awards and diplomas.
“So. Arina Novak–”
“Elain Archeron,” she interrupted quickly. “Arina is my roommate. She was…sick…so I’m filling in.”
Why did he look so amused? He steepled his fingers in front of his lips. “Another journalist?”
“Botany,” she replied quickly. His smile faded for a moment and Elain knew what he thought. Young—likely no older than thirty—and rich, he’d imagined her coming to meet him. Elain reached into her purse for her questions while he reclined in his chair.
“What do you do with a botany degree?”
She shrugged. It was a question her older sister asked constantly. “Starve, I suppose. So, for my first questi—”
“What do you mean, starve?”
Elain looked back up at him, unnerved by his interest. “My sister always says I should have done something useful. It’s just a bad joke. I like making floral arrangements and event planning. Stuff like that.”
“Ah. Event planning for a wedding?”
Elain blinked. He was staring at her with such intensity that his words sounded sultry, like he was asking if she wanted to get married. Heart racing, Elain nodded. “Maybe.”
“My mother is remarrying. Maybe I’ll give her your number.”
“You don’t have it,” Elain said without thinking. A cheshire's smile spread over his impossibly handsome face.
“Easily rectified, I would imagine.”
She looked back at her questions. “Did you always know you wanted to–”
“This is the part where I say this was my dream, right? That I’m so fortunate to do what I love and I could never have done it without the education from Velaris U?”
“Is that true?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe I’m just good at conning investors out of money.”
“Spoken like a true nepo baby,” she said quickly without thinking. Lucien’s eyes went wide and too quick, Elain realized she’d crossed a line.
“I—”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound dark and rich like honey dripping over chocolate. “That certainly didn’t hurt,” Lucien agreed, eyes sparkling. “Who taught you how to interview?”
“No one,” she breathed, so utterly embarrassed she could have died from it. “I’m sorry.”
He waved a hand, revealing a well defined vein just beneath the skin and a watch that made his fingers seem longer, the whole thing seem bigger.
She looked away. “I ah…do you think your education was helpful?”
“Of course,” he agreed as Elain quickly scribbled his words down. “Don’t worry about transcribing. I’ll follow up with your friend so she can quote me directly. I don’t trust you not to remind everyone I am not the self-made man the media makes me out to be.”
“Oh. Then I’ll get out of you–”
“Stay,” he said with easy authority, the sort that kept her rooted in spot. “We still have twenty-five minutes.”
“I’m sure you’re a busy man,” Elain insisted, though she didn’t move at all. Lucien watched her appraisingly, waiting.
“Not too busy for a current student at my alma mater. And if you leave, someone else will come in to talk to me. So really you’re doing me a favor.”
Elain very much doubted that. Crossing her legs, Elain couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you decide to do all this?”
His eyes glazed over, wholly focused on her knee. She didn’t dare move, certain he was just thinking though it felt as if he could see what was beneath her dress. He cleared his vision and exhaled a breath.
“I’m good at it,” he finally told her. “And sometimes you’ve got to lean into your strengths, right? I was never going to be an artist.”
“Is that a hobby of yours?”
She wished she hadn’t asked. His eyes went dark for a moment, that sultry smile back. “Not quite.”
Elain didn’t quite appreciate the sensual tone of his words or the way he was looking at her like she was a meal. What would he have done if it were Arina who walked into his office? Suddenly the blonde receptionist and her flirty words made more sense. He was sleeping with his subordinates.
How utterly cliched.
“Well,” she began awkwardly.
“Sit down, Ms. Archeron.” her murmured and Elain immediately plopped back down before her brain caught up with her actions. Something about him exuded authority. Maybe it was the suit draped perfectly against his long, muscular body. Maybe it was the confidence in which he carried himself.
Maybe she just needed to get laid and any man looking at her the way he was would have been enough to make her obey. Elain didn’t want to examine that too quickly. Lucien cocked his head for a moment.
Studying her.
“What’s your plan after you graduate? Do you have a job lined up?”
“Why? Are you offering me one?” she replied, thinking of his receptionist. He was so utterly transparent, so completely absurd—
Lucien laughed again. “Oh, I don’t think you’d enjoy working here for a moment. Alumni help students find jobs all the time. Why should I be any different? I’ve been thinking on how I could support the school—”
“Maybe a scholarship,” she said quickly, noting how his smile never shifted. “Since you’re so fortunate to have so much.”
“Do you have experience in such things?”
She shrugged. “Do I need to in order to care about people less fortunate than me?”
“Touche, okay. I hear you. You find me spoiled and arrogant, then?”
Yes. A flush crept up her cheeks. She was messing this all up. “No, I…”
“It’s alright,” he all but purred, leaning forward, elbows on his desk. “Honesty is better than ass-kissing, right?”
“I suppose,” she agreed, shifting nervously in her chair.
Pushing his luck, Lucien said, “Why don’t you give me your email and I’ll introduce you to someone I know in event planning?”
He slid an orange sticky pad and a rather nice pen Elain’s fingers itched to steal towards her. She scribbled the email quickly, wondering if this was going to come back to haunt her. It would be nice to get some help. Her advisor was utterly useless, uninterested in Elain’s future career and she lacked connections that other students had. Everyone else was lining up jobs so effortlessly and Elain was floundering in her interviews. If this man wanted to help her, Elain decided she’d let him. It didn’t mean she owed him anything—in fact, Elain very decidedly would not repay him with anything he needed. He’d get a thank you like anyone else.
He glanced at his watch, frowning at whatever he saw. It was just enough time for her to jump out of her chair before he could boss her into sitting back down.
“Well…this was…” this was what? A waste of her time? The new highlight of her erotic daydreams? “Thank you for your time, Mr. Vanserra,” she decided lamely. He rose and oh God she wished he hadn’t. He was like a dream, something from a fantasy and not real life. Men like him, with perfect bodies and perfect faces and the good sense to know exactly what cologne to wear, had no business walking around in real life. He offered her a broad hand and Elain accepted. His skin was warm, his grip firm.
“The pleasure was all mine. I’ll walk you out?”
And though he technically asked a question, he spoke it like a command. Elain didn���t bother to respond, merely nodding her head. She was oddly conflicted—he was so bossy it was irksome and so handsome she was willing to overlook it. That was a dangerous combination.
Though ultimately, it didn’t matter. Lucien pressed the button that would take her back to the lobby and then made his way to the reception desk where his breathless secretary tracked his every move. She leaned forward, breasts all but spilling from her top and Elain was forgotten.
She tried to pretend it didn’t disappoint her a little. He was merely a man very good at making people feel seen and special. That was his charm. She’d read too much into the interaction and now she felt stupid.
Still, Elain reflected on the meeting in her mind over and over, barely aware of the world around her as she biked home. Elain flung open the door to her apartment to find Arina on the couch, dressed in yoga pants and a slouchy shirt. She was frowning at her laptop screen and for a horrible moment, Elain was sure Lucien Vanserra had complained about her.
“How did it go?” Arina asked, brushing wisps of hair off her face.
“What did he say?” Elain asked too defensively, dropping her bag loudly on the counter.
Arina didn’t smile. “That you were utterly charming and to let him know if we need anything else. Filled out all our questions. In and out, just like I said. Was he nice?”
And it wasn’t worth telling Arina the utter fantasy she’d let herself imagine. That a man like Lucien Vanserra, a person likely surrounded by a parade of beautiful, available women, was interested in college student studying botany.
“Yeah. Totally normal.”
“Good.” She snapped her laptop lid shut. “I need you to do something else with me.”
“With you? Or for you?” Elain sat beside her friend.
“With me. I ah…last night,” Arina took a breath, steeling herself. “I fucked up last night and if Jack finds out…”
“Fuck Jack,” Elain said automatically, though she omitted what Jack had done that morning. She could never bring herself to tell Arina the true scope of how awful he was.
“A man came in and he was so charming and he was in this suit…he smelled good and he wasn’t being disgusting…I don’t know what happened, Elain. I swear, it was like…it was like someone else took over my body. I just wanted to be that girl, you know? The one that an attractive man wants.”
Elain’s mouth fell open because Arina was that girl to everyone but Jack.
“He seems to think something is going to come of that night and I just…there’s this party this weekend and he invited me. Come with me. I’m going to tell him nothing can happen but I don’t want to go alone.”
“Why not just text him?”
Arina looked down miserably at her phone. “I don’t have his number. I’m afraid he’ll just show up and it’ll cause a huge scene. Please? Just one night. It’ll have free food and drinks–”
“Of course I’ll go,” Elain said easily. “If only for free drinks.”
Arina put her head on Elain’s shoulder.
“You’re the best.”
LUCIEN:
Lucien reclined in his office chair, manilla envelope in hand, courtesy of his friend and partner, Jurian. Slicing it open with his finger, he pulled out the documents inside.
Elain Archeron.
The very first sheet was merely a picture of a younger version of her–likely eighteen, likely taken on her first week on campus given it was her student ID. Jurian didn’t have much in the way of information. Elain was so clean she didn’t even have a traffic ticket. He’d watched her leave from his office on a cute little green bike, replete with a bell and basket.
Jurian had dug up some things she’d written in the paper for her friend Arina—all on plant care—a few pictures of her that had been added to the paper, and then her former addresses. She’d grown up in the midwest which checked out to Lucien. She had that sort of sweet, down-to-earth persona that was refreshing to someone like him.
He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since he’d last seen her. Just a day and yet when he’d gotten home he’d had to take his aching cock in his hand and pump one out just to get through the night. Lucien couldn’t recall ever being so affected to the mere presence of a woman. Not like that.
It was her eyes, wet and brown and wide like a baby deer. She radiated innocence and he wanted to put his filthy hands all over her and ruin her. He would have bet everything he owned on Elain being a wild, bratty little thing in the right circumstances. Lucien set the paperwork back to his desk, turning his eyes back to her email. He wanted to talk to her and had no excuse to do so. He’d lied about the contact—he’d have to find one, first, if he wanted to make that introduction. He’d merely sensed she wouldn’t hand over her phone number without a reason. Lucien remembered being a college senior and how stressed everyone had been about finding a job. She was no different.
Of course he wanted to help…only his help really was centered around her naked body and his cock. She didn’t know that. Not yet anyway. He hoped she might, if he could figure out the right way to approach her that made him seem alluring and sexy and not like a fucking loser. It was a fine line and he knew it.
His door banged open and Beth stepped in, blue eyes bouncing between his moron brother and him. Beth was so obnoxiously obvious with her hot for teacher eyes that Lucien was extra careful with how he spoke to her. He knew if he or Eris ordered her to her knees, she’d have done it without a second thought.
Maybe that was what drew him towards Elain. Nepo-baby. Fuck she was funny and more importantly, she wasn’t impressed with him at all. When was the last time he’d fucked someone that wasn’t hoping for an accidental pregnancy or that her pussy was the one that would make him fall in love? He just wanted to know what it would be like.
That’s all it was.
“How young is too young?” Eris asked by way of greeting, before Beth had even shut the door. Lucien suppressed an eye roll at her obvious interest. Lucien waited for her to close the door before answering.
“If you’re asking, you already know.”
“I fucked a twenty two year old the other night. Jesus, though…if you saw her body–”
“It’s like you want a scandal,” Lucien reminded Eris patiently. “She’s going to rat you out–”
“She didn’t know who I was,” Eris breathed, pacing Lucien’s office to mess with all his things. Eris and his nervous, political energy and his utter control…except when it came to his dick. “I want to lock her up in my house.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the press would love that. Cut her loose—”
“She’s coming to the gala tonight. Come with me. I want you to see her.”
“I don’t need to see her. She’s too young.”
“There’s free alcohol,” Eris said, switching tactics. “And Jess will be there–”
“I don’t want to see Jess,” Lucien grumbled. What a stupid, old crush that had been. She’d broken his heart more times than he could count and still he always came back for more when she got bored or lonely or nostalgic. It had been two years without Jess. Lucien didn’t want to reopen that door.
“Free alcohol then. C’mon. She’s bringing a friend,” Eris added. Lucien scowled.
“I’m not interested in fucking some twenty-two year old co-ed.”
“Jesus Lucien, what’s your problem?”
“I’ll go,” he grumbled. “What’s her name, at least? Have Jurian poke around before you start making declarations of marriage.”
Eris dropped into one of the leather chairs, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Arina Novak. God, Lucien, she could model, you should see….”
Eris’s voice trailed off in his head. Arina Novak. Elain Archeron’s roommate. What were the odds his brother slept with her the night before Elain came in her friend's stead. His whole body tightened at the thought of seeing her again, somewhere outside of work where he could be looser, where a little alcohol might lower her guard just enough to appreciate what he had to offer.
If he let Eris know he had any interest, his brother would pounce. “Fine. But I don’t think a twenty two year old is a good politician's wife.”
“She’s got a face for television,” Eris disagreed, clearly pleased his brother agreed. “And a body for porn. You’ll see.”
And that was that. Eris left Lucien with that little piece of knowledge when he still had hours left of his workday. He got shit done, his mind constantly wandering back to Elain in her tight, flared dress that showed nothing more than her knees and buttoned practically to her neck. Her cascade of loose curls that fell down her back in golden brown waves and her fucking full lips, the sort he could not stop imagining wrapped around his cock while her arms were tied behind her back. Lucien wanted to see her on her knees so bad it made him sick.
He went home and fucked his hand twice before he ever made it into the shower. It helped, if only a little and by the time he was dressed in a white button up tucked into belted black slacks, a jacket thrown on overtop, Lucien felt sane again. Like a man firmly in control and not ruled by his stupid, needy penis.
He left his hair around his face before heading out, checking his phone every eight seconds as if she’d text. Not yet. But tonight, he vowed. Tonight he’d work her into dinner, would lay the groundwork to getting her into his apartment…into his ropes.
He was early as he rolled up to the hotel Eris was holding his little fundraiser in. Gala, as if this were a charity. Lucien jogged up the steps to the swinging glass door and made his way through the wide, open interior of the lobby. It was an old hotel made from marble and glass and crystal, back when craftsmanship and style were more important than towering, sleek skylines. He could appreciate the former—he loathed the latter.
The ballroom had been transformed into something straight out of the roaring twenties, save for all the people in modern clothing. A massive chandelier poured soft light across white and black swirled marble floors. A long bar at the far end of the room was serving pre-selected cocktails along with the obvious beers, of course. Waiters in coats and tails walked about with trays of food they offered to people sitting at round tables draped in lacy white. A dance floor was cordoned off and though there was a DJ, the music could have come from a small quartet of violins. All very tasteful for Eris’s chosen crowd and the perfect, ambient setting for Lucien’s slow seduction.
All of which was interrupted by his mother. Swanning over in a pretty blue dress, she grinned when she saw him. “Lucien,” she breathed, kissing his cheek. He was sure she’d left a pink stain on his skin. “I was starting to think I’d never see you again.”
“You know how work is,” he replied, though in truth Lucien couldn’t stand that old house. Beron, his father, might be dead but his ghost lingered. No amount of her engagement to Helion could alter that.
“Mmm,” she agreed noncommittally. “You know, Jess is here.”
Lucien saw her the moment his mother said her name. Jess, with her straight, dark hair and her wide, coal colored eyes. She had glossy lips and her tits pushed up to her neck. An hourglass body taunted him, reminding her of all the nights he’d had her trussed up, that mouth gagging around him.
The thought used to make him ache. Their eyes met and Lucien was surprised he hadn’t had a visceral response. He merely inclined his head before turning his attention to the rest of the room.
“Jess is over,” he told his mother without hesitation.
“Well, let me introduce you to…”
Everything melted when his head turned towards those open doors and Elain Archeron stepped in. She wore a tight red dress and matching red lipstick. Her sultry eyes were all made up so they seemed wider and darker than before and her hair—fuck, her perfect waterfall of curls—hung loose around her face. The barest hint of breast peeked over the top of the nightmare she was currently clad in, the hem cutting against her slim upper thighs. Lucien’s whole body was tight again, his cock stirring in his pants.
She’d come just as he’d hoped he might. Beside her was Eris’s tall blonde—gorgeous, to be certain and yet Lucien was immensely grateful his brother had kept Arina from coming to her interview.
Elain’s eyes swept over the room, snagging on him quickly. He couldn’t help his slow smile creeping over his face and was stupidly pleased when her face flushed. She wasn’t immune either, then.
“Another time, mother,” he assured her, stepping away without waiting to hear her protesting words. Eris beat him to the girls, walking them towards the bar like an utter bastard. Elain glanced over her shoulder, looking away when she realized he was coming towards her. What was she thinking, he wondered?
“This is my brother, Lucien,” Eris said with a practiced smile. Lucien extended his hand to Arina first.
“We almost met, once,” he replied. “Nice to meet you for real.”
“Thank you for talking with us,” Arina agreed, her golden face pale and nervous. Lucien could see the writing on the wall, even if Eris could not. She hadn’t come to fall into his arms. She’d come to tell him to knock it off. Elain looked at her friend with expectant eyes.
“We’ve met,” was all Elain said, her tone very much saying do what you came to do.
“Can we talk for a second?” Arina all but whispered to cool, confident Eris. Elain squeezed her friends wrist before she left, turning her attention to him.
Finally.
“We meet again,” he said, gesturing to the bar they were leaning against. “Want a drink?”
“With you?” she asked, her voice breathless. Fuck. He wanted to hear her breathless in his bedroom.
“Who else?”
And Elain, with her unbridled audacity, looked around the room. Lucien knew, in that moment she was no mere submissive thing but a brat who would need a firm hand. The realization made his cock ache against the soft fabric of his briefs and when she wasn’t looking, hips angled towards the wood of the bar, he rubbed the heel of his hand against himself to adjust. No need to let her know she had any affect on him at all.
Breathe, you dumb motherfucker.
She frowned, eyes snagging on someone Lucien vaguely recognized. The senior Nolan had stepped in with his blonde wife and their reedy looking son. “Him?” he asked, not bothering to hide how indignant the thought made him.
“What? No,” she breathed, looking back ut Lucien with those fuck me eyes. “I just…I know him.”
“How?”
“We dated,” she replied, eyes pinching for a moment. Lucien turned to study the man—boy, really. He was handsome enough in an obvious, eighties movie villain sort of way. Lucien didn’t know the Nolan’s well enough to comment on what it must have been like, though just by looking at Graysen’s weak chin, Lucien knew he absolutely did not eat pussy.
Elain, he bet, could use it. Lucien could too. He was distracted by the thought, of her riding his face, panting in that soft, breathless sort of way. Lucien could make her loud, could draw her out, could torture her for hours, keep her on that edge.
Fuck, how he wanted to.
“Sounds fascinating,” he replied dryly, ordering a neat whiskey while she continued to stare. Elain jerked when she realized he had moved on, her whole face impossibly tight…and bruised. When had that happened? While she ordered a vodka tonic, Lucien brushed his knuckle over her cheekbone.
“What happened here?” he asked, noting she’d clearly tried to hide it with her hair and a thin layer of carefully applied make-up. He turned his head to look at Nolan, wondering if he needed to take him out back and beat the shit out of him.
Elain’s eyes widened, her fingers swatting him away. “I fell.”
Lucien stared for a moment, letting her see how little he believed her. “Face first?”
“I…can be clumsy,” his pretty little liar assured him.
Lucien reached between them for her hands. He’d spent enough time around his mother, perpetually covered in those same bruises, to know that people who fell threw out their hands to catch themselves and people who were shoved violently or hit unexpectedly had soft, unblemished palms…just like Elain. She yanked it back.
“It wasn’t him,” she breathed when Lucien rose to his full height. “Just some douchebag in my apartment building. No big deal.”
“No…big…deal…” Lucien repeated with glassy eyes, thinking of his own mother and how often she’d breathed those same words. “If you say so.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, shifting on her feet to look at the clear, bubbling liquid in her hand. Changing the subject to shift his attention, but Lucien was single-minded. He’d find that dumbfuck and he’d show them what happened when someone bigger, someone stronger, pushed them around. He did not believe it wasn’t personal or even the first time.
“My brother,” he nodded towards the pillar Eris was reclined against, talking to his too-young blonde. “Man of the hour, as always.”
“Does that bother you?”
He grinned. “No one cares if I stand here talking to you, so nope.”
Another flush crept up her neck. “Thank you again, for meeting with me. I know it meant a lot to Arina.”
“Sure,” he agreed, not caring one bit if he did Arina any favors. He wanted to know if she had enjoyed it. No way to ask without being a creep, so instead, Lucien added, “You should let me buy you dinner. Tomorrow.”
Her eyes were so big, her pretty, red lips parted. He had fight the urge to rub his thumb over her mouth, to smear it around her face. He wanted to see that lipstick stained against his cock and fuck, Lucien had to turn and face the bar completely to keep people from seeing the obvious bulge in his pants.
“Dinner? For what?” she asked, the sweet little thing.
“A date,” Lucien replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world—because it was. “I’ll pick you up…eight o’ clock?”
“A date?” Was it really so unbelievable to her he found her attractive? Surely that wasn’t new. Elain was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. She outshone her friend and everyone else in the room without even trying. She had an effortless way about her and Lucien was willing to bet that when she wiped off all her make-up, she was just as cock-achingly stunning.
“I uh…”
Lucien reached in his pocket for his phone, sliding it easily across the bar. She caught it on instinct. “Put your number in.” It wasn’t a request and Elain, without even realizing what he was doing, automatically picked it up and began doing what she was told.
Good girl.
She bit her bottom lip. Lucien resisted the urge to grab her by the chin and kiss her, forgetting where he was for a moment.
“It’ll be fun,” he assured her. “No pressure.”
“I pay for myself,” she began, unaware of how much heat that filled him with.
“Absolutely not.”
Her fingers hesitated on the screen. “I don’t want to owe you—”
“You won’t,” he replied. He didn’t want her in his bed because she felt obligated over a decent meal. He wanted her in his bed because she was dizzy and sick with desire. “I pay for dates, though. You don’t owe me anything except your sharp wit.”
“As long as you understand I don’t have sex on the first date,” she told him firmly. Lucien almost demanded a list of men who hadn’t understood that. In time.
“Very reasonable,” he agreed, not bothering to mention there would be a second date…and third…and on and on so long as the relationship between them remained mutually beneficial and fun. He’d explain it all tomorrow, he decided. What he wanted from her…what he wanted to give her. Start slow, start easy before working her into his personal playroom.
Pleased to have her number, Lucien shot her a quick text so she had his phone number, too. “Feel free to text me anything you like,” he told her, letting some innuendo seep into his voice. She glanced up at him, eyes narrowing a fraction.
“You want memes?”
I want to see your pussy.
“I love memes,” he replied. “And conversation.”
“Noted,” Elain agreed, just in time for a red-faced Arina to stomp over, interrupting what was proving to be the highlight of his night.
“Can we talk?” she said, eyes cutting to Lucien with open suspicion. He merely waved the girls off, watching the sway of Elain’s hips as she went. She looked over her shoulder once, finding his unabashed staring.
I want you, doe-eyed fawn.
He’d have her.
ELAIN:
Elain woke the next morning to a text from Lucien.
Good morning.
It wasn’t real. She didn’t know how to deal with some millionaire and his fascination. Had he really sent her a good morning text? She’d been so sure she’d imagined the whole thing, that she’d somehow stumbled into a hallucination that involved the absurdly hot Lucien Vanserra that Elain hadn’t even considered texting him, even when she left. She had immediately gone home to take a shower and perhaps alleviate some of the tension in her body beneath the pulsating water but she could hardly be blamed. After all, Lucien’s hands were so big and he smelled absurdly good.
He was going to realize that every time he spoke, all Elain was looking at was his mouth. She took a breath, inhaling strawberry and cinnamon scented air from the candle she’d been burning, mingled against the smell of burning, cheap weed.
Jack.
If Jack was around, the text was real. Elain was quick to respond good morning with a pink flower emoji before she stomped out of her bedroom in her sleep shorts and tanktop.
“Nice tits,” Jack said by way of greeting, staring at their television as he slammed around a controller in his hands.
“Where is Arina?”
He shrugged. “She wasn’t here when I got here.”
“Then why are you here?” Elain demanded. “You don’t pay rent.”
“Bitchy as always, I see,” he replied. “Do you ever chill out?”
“Nope,” she replied. “Get out of my apartment.”
“Fuck you,” he retorted. “I’m waiting on my girlfriend and I have a key. Take your own bitchy advice, though, if it bothers you so much and go somewhere else.”
“She’s going to dump you one day,” Elain told him, practically vibrating with rage. “And you’re going to die alone.”
He looked over at her with such obvious hatred that Elain yielded a step. “Arina’s not a dumb cunt like you. Heard Graysen was out again last night. Wonder why you can’t keep a man?’
“I’m going to tell her,” Elain whispered, the only card she had left to play. All at once, Jack exploded, flinging his controller against the wall so hard the drywall cracked. He rose to his feet, quick as a flash, to stand in her face.
“Tell her what? What a fucking nosy ass bitch you are? How you’re so fucking jealous that Arina has a man you try and sabotage it at every turn? Arina is going to figure out what a miserable, stupid bitch you are one of these days and cut you loose.”
“Maybe Arina will realize she could do better,” Elain whispered, her whole body shaking.
“I hope you fucking die you stupid–”
“What’s going on in here?” Arina’s voice cut through Jack’s fury. Eyes wide and rimmed red, Elain didn’t have to ask if her friend had been crying. Elain took another step back and so did Jack, his fury smoothing into nothing.
“Just a friendly chat–”
“You said you hoped she died,” Arina pressed, clearly outraged. “Why would you say that?”
“Baby,” he tried but Arina held up a hand. Jack’s anger was back. “She’s fucking jealous–”
“Of what?!” Elain demanded. “All you do is sit here all day playing video games and smoking weed! You don’t work, you don’t help out! Why would I be jealous when you’re such a fucking loser!”
“See!” he tried but Arina was nodding her head.
“No…Jack…God she’s right. You’ve been saying for the last four years you’d get a job and you still haven’t–”
“My streaming—”
“Is never going to take off!” Arina interrupted, her anger burning hot. “I need help now, not for some hypothetical future!”
“I’m going to take care of you–” he tried, but Arina flung the door open behind her.
“Get out.”
“Arina–”
“GET. OUT!” she shrieked. He hesitated before ripping his system from their television so hard it nearly toppled over.
“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” he asked when he had his things. “What’s his fucking name?”
“Common sense,” she whispered. “I should have done this last year.”
“I’ll fucking bet. I’ll find out, Reena and when I do…”
“You won’t do anything. That would require effort,” she snapped before shoving him into the hall.
“You’re a loose, ugly fucking bitch!” he screamed from the hall. “No one is gonna want you you fucking trailer park, daddy-issues cunt! Good fucking luck, Arina!”Arina didn’t react to his words, kicking her shoes off with a relieved exhale.
“You okay?”
Arina looked at Elain, considering her words for a moment. “I think it took having a one-night stand with Eris Vanserra to realize how bad things were.”
“One night stand?”
“Yes,” Arina said firmly. “But it was a good night. He didn’t badger me one time and I know that’s like, a low bar but when I told him I didn’t want to do things from behind and he just agreed I had this moment of like, what am I even doing? You know? I feel bad I cheated on Jack but I needed to leave him. Eris gave me a reason, I guess.”
“And you don’t want to see him? He seemed interested,” Elain hedged carefully. Arina flopped onto the couch, nose wrinkling when she caught that stale weed smell.
“No. He’s in D.C. half the time and men like him never want anything serious. Even if he did, they don’t stay faithful. I see it all the time in the bar.”
“Lucien Vanserra asked me out. I won’t go if–”
“No, go,” Arina said, waving her hand. “Just be careful. He’s cut from the same cloth. He’ll always want more. Men like that know they can have whatever they want. Today it’s us, tomorrow it’s a different barely legal teenager. Have fun…let him take you somewhere nice, at least. Get a little jewelry out of it. Maybe a car.”
“Gosh, you make it sound too romantic,” Elain teased.
Still, she was grateful Arina agreed and didn’t find it weird. The advice was a good reminder, too. Lucien was a grown man and so utterly unlike the other men on campus that he was practically in a different orbit. She couldn’t expect anything genuine or long-term for him. It was a first for Elain, who was so used to relationships that spanned years that maybe this was what she needed. Maybe she ought to take a page from Arina’s book and have a one night stand.
With that in mind, Elain put on the tightest black dress she owned, the one that just barely covered her ass and showed a generous amount of cleavage. She put a lacy pink thong on beneath and the matching bra, having shaved herself within an inch of her life.
More tall, black shoes meant she won’t have to stand on tip-toes to reach his mouth and Elain took a chance and left her hair down hoping he liked that soft of thing. A sleek ponytail might have gone better, given she’d smoked out her eyeshadow and put red lipstick on again.
She strolled into the living room where Arina was still sitting, dressed down in sweatpants and an over-sized university t-shirt.
“Jesus, Elain, why not take out a billboard that says you suck dick,” she said loudly, just in time for knocking on the door.
“Want me to answer?” Arina teased. “Take pictures for prom?”
“Shut up.”
Elain pulled open the door where Lucien waited, eyeing the dingy, loud hall of her building with distaste. He was so ridiculously out of place she almost laughed. She wasn’t inviting him in, not when he looked so good in another well tailored set of black slacks and his shirt—blue, this time—was half hidden beneath a vest that hugged his muscular chest. He’d rolled his sleeves to his elbows and still had on the watch but it was his loose hair that made her felt wet between her legs.
Lucien couldn’t help himself, it seemed, his lips parting in a soft oh as he looked her up and down. “Ready?”
If he was affected by her appearance, he didn’t let it show.
“Use protection!” Arina yelled just as Elain snapped the door shut.
“No expectations?” Lucien tried to joke as she led him down the stairs. Elain watched him move, just a half-step in front of her. He was so tall, so broad…what was he like in bed? Was he the sort of man who relied on his good looks and didn’t think he ought to do any other work beyond that? Elain chose to believe Lucien lived up to the promises his big hands were currently making.
“Don’t tell me you’re the sort that thinks clothes and consent are the same,” she replied, letting him jerk open the door. He looked down at her while she passed, his eyes so utterly dark she shivered.
“Your friend said to use protection,” he reminded her. “I just want to ensure I’m living up to your whispered expectations.”
Fuck he was so stupid and hot. “She’s just…”
Lucien’s smoldering look silenced the lie about to pour from her lips. Instead, Elain slid into the door he held open, reclining against the clean leather. His car smelled clean and masculine, like he’d just bought it that day and had sprayed himself quickly with a bit of his cologne. She wanted to bathe in that rich, spicy smell.
Lucien jogged around the drivers side, folding his body behind the steering wheel. Elain forced herself to breathe, to act normal even though she couldn’t take her eyes off the muscle flexing in his forearm. Lucien cut a glanced towards, reaching for what she thought was her leg before he swerved and set it against the stick shift.
“I don’t think you look like you suck dick,” he said after a moment and Elain, who had currently been imagining what it would be like to kneel between his legs, wanted to die. He’d heard that?
Lucien cleared his throat. “That came out wrong. You look nice.”
“Thanks,” she managed, just barely breathing. “You do, too.”
Lucien smiled ever so slightly, as if he knew he looked good. He’d be stupid not, she supposed, doubly so when they reached the restaurant and the hostesses eyes became wide like saucers at the sight of him.
“Table for Vanserra?” His voice was smooth and dark and velvet, skittering up Elain’s spine before wrapping around her neck.
“Right this way,” she breathed. Arina’s words rang through Elain’s head. What was it like to move through the world this way? To have people who always wanted you so viscerally? She imagined it was incredibly tempting and a good reminder that she could offer this man nothing but her physical presence no matter how fascinated by her words he seemed.
The interior of the restaurant was dim, with tables covered in thick white fabric and as far as Elain could tell, a pre-set menu. He was showing off, then.
Doubly, when she was taken to a rather intimate semi-circular table in the back. No chairs, only a long bench Elain slid onto and Lucien joined her on the other side until his leg was pressed against her own. She could barely think let alone speak which was just as well–Lucien ordered wine and other small plates for the table with practiced ease.
He put one arm over the back of the book, drawing her closer against his chest and creating a bubble around them that made Elain’s whole body throb. He took a breath, brushing her hair off her shoulder. “Good day?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “I uh…” She couldn’t remember one thing she’d done. Lucien chuckled.
“I feel the same way. You’ve been on my mind.”
She looked up at him and fuck, that was a huge mistake. He definitely caught the way her eyes zeroed in on his mouth, the way she tracked his tongue moistening his lips. “I have?”
Lucien cupped her face in his hand, the size of him enough to hold her neck, too. He brushed a thumb over her cheek, over the bruise she couldn’t quite manage to hide. “You made an impression, calling me an arrogant, spoiled nepotism baby.”
“I didn’t–I never—you–” she spluttered but Lucien dragged that same thumb over her lips, silencing her entirely.
“Most people only want to talk about how wonderful I am.”
“I’m sure you have…good…qualities,” she replied, the pad of his finger still against her lips, salty from his skin. Lucien gripped her chin, tilting her closer.
“Mm, I suppose,” he agreed, lowering his face. He was going to kiss her. Elain felt electric, her skin humming with anticipation.
Just like in the car, Lucien swerved at the last moment. “Wine?”
Elain’s whole brain went blank for a moment, trying to catch up with what was happening. Lucien reached for the uncorked bottle and poured two glasses of red. He offered it to her, watching as she took that first drink.
“Do you like it?”
No. Elain had never been much of a wine drinker. It tasted like wine—Elain had never been able to identify a difference between vintage and type. It was just wine flavored, sometimes sweeter and sometimes not. “It’s fine.”
“Do you prefer white?”
“I prefer vodka,” Elain told him honestly, a little annoyed he’d put his lovely mouth so close to hers only to pull away at the last second. “And a nice cider.”
That clearly surprised him. Good. Let him see that all the wining and dining wasn’t necessary. Elain would have been perfectly content at a greasy spoon. His money wasn’t what interested her, besides. It was his hands and how they’d feel running against her body.
Not that Lucien didn’t try. He’d ordered on their behalf, watching her eat beautifully plated creations with a watchful eye. What did she enjoy? Did she enjoy the flavors, the textures, the presentations? No, no, no. In fact, every new thing was having the opposite intended effect. It reminded Elain she did not belong in this world, that she should never have agreed to go. What would likely have impressed a million other girls only served to make her feel inadequate.
Elain had put a considerable amount of distance between them by the time the last plates were cleared away. She could see he was frustrated, unsure of what he was doing wrong. Elain bet this had worked a million times before. Instead of trying to escape, she ought to be crawling in his lap and calling him daddy. Some part of her still wanted to, of course. It wasn’t as if Lucien had stopped being hot. He was merely unattainable to her now—a fantasy better left in her head.
Lucien paid while Elain checked her phone brazenly. It was universal speak for a bad date that would absolutely not be replicated, a shame given how wet the fabric of her thong still was. Lucien kept eyeing her, letting the silence drag.
She couldn’t help herself, so annoyed with him for his stupid date and all his money and good looks that Elain dug through her clutch, pulling out a mirror and her lipstick, repainting it against her lips while he watched her with dark, nearly rabid eyes.
“Well,” she began, snapping the compact closed loudly. “This was fun but—”
“But nothing,” Lucien interrupted smoothly. “Stand up.”
And fuck, Elain did exactly as he told her to. Lucien rose to his feet, putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her back to his car. A valet had it pulled up and Lucien, still showing off, pulled a neatly folded bill from his pocket and handed it over without a second glance. Opening her door, Lucien’s expression told her he was not done with her and dinner was merely a prelude for whatever he’d planned next.
This time, Lucien slid his hand over her thigh and squeezed. A rush of heat flooded between her thighs, filling Elain with want.
“Where are you taking me?”
“What would impress you, Elain?” he asked instead, pulling from the road in a dark alley and cutting the ignition. Elain hesitated. “You hated every minute of that, didn’t you?”
She blinked. She wasn’t used to being called out this way. Lucien leaned forward, blanketing her in his scent. “Tell me the truth.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“What would it take to impress you?” he whispered, curling his other hand against her face. His thumb smeared lipstick over her cheek and Elain didn’t think she’d ever been so aroused in her life. She could feel her heart beating between her legs hot and insistent.
“You can’t impress me,” Elain lied. In truth, she’d been impressed when he’d sidled up next to her at the bar and offered her nothing but his time and attention. Lucien knew it. One moment he was looking at her with his wild, needy eyes and the next his mouth was slanted over her own.
Elain moaned at that first brutal touch. There was no polite first kiss, no slow seduction. It was as hot as he was, burning like there was fire just beneath his skin. His tongue swept into her mouth, hand tangled in her hair. Elain was electric, made all the worse when he yanked her into his lap. She leaned back, softly beeping his horn for all Lucien cared. He reclined his seat as far as it could go, forcing her to lay against him while he kissed her breathless and stupid. His face was messy from her mouth and when she pulled back to look, Lucien’s grin was feral and hot.
“Did you make a mess of me?” he breathed, grabbing the back of her neck. He nipped almost painful kisses against her skin. “Am I making a mess of you?”
It was so utterly indecent. Elain pressed her hands against his strong chest. “I told you no sex on the first date.”
“As if you were going to give me a second,” he replied, skimming those same hands over the curve of her ass. “Besides, it’s hard to fuck you the way I want in my goddamn car.”
“Then what…” she trailed off when his hand slipped beneath her dress, brushing against her fabric.
“Soaked,” he taunted, lips back against her own. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
He rubbing her through the lace, teasing and taunting just enough to make her breathless but not so much he was giving her what she needed.
“Last night,” she admitted, moaning against his jaw, her hips rolling against his hand. Lucien chuckled darkly.
“Tell me.”
“You’re not the boss—”
Lucien tangled his free hand in her hair and tugged, exposing her throat. “Tell. Me.”
“Shower,” she panted, so obscenely turned on.
“Did you spray the water against your pretty pussy?” he asked, licking the column of her neck.
“Yes.”
“All spread out?”
“Yes,” she whined, back to rocking against his hand. Lucien pulled the fabric apart, dipping one of his fingers into her body.
“What did you imagine?”
God she couldn’t tell him, it was so embarrassing. Lucien pushed and Elain couldn’t help the whimper that escaped.
“Tell me, baby. What was I doing to you?”
“Stop it,” she whispered and all at once his hands were gone. Lucien’s eyes were wide, his lust replaced by real fear. Elain ground herself against him. “I can’t say—”
Lucien kissed again, needy and hot, his hand back beneath her dress pumping roughly. His thumb rubbed against her clit, drawing out moan after moan. His tongue stroked against her own, his claiming, devouring her whole.
“Was it this?” he asked, his voice a rasp. “Was I eating your pussy? Was I fucking you? Tell me, Elain. Tell me so—”
“Yes,” she agreed. “All of it.”
“Is that what you want?” he continued, each kiss sliding into the next. She was building, grinding in his lap. Lucien pushed a third finger into her body, filling her entirely with his touch, his claiming kiss. He curled those fingers, thumb rubbing tight circles and Elain came apart all over his legs and hands in a dark, abandoned alley. Lucien rode her through it, kissing hard until she was panting and sensitive.
And then she was back in her seat while he wiped his hand against his thigh like nothing had happened. He restarted the car casually, as if she couldn’t see the large, heavy outline of him bulging in his pants.
“I—”
“The first time you touch me won’t be in my car,” Lucien interrupted before she could offer.
“What will it be like?” she whispered. Lucien smiled, pulling them back onto the road.
“Have you ever been tied up, Elain?”
Not really. Graysen had once bound her hands up in silk but she’d escaped easily. She suspected Lucien was not asking to do the same. “No.”
He nodded. “I have a proposition for you, if you’re interested.”
Still coming down from her orgasm, Elain was in a lusty fog. “What kind of proposition?”
Lucien gripped the steering wheel tightly for a moment. “I’m looking for a specific kind of relationship, Elain.”
She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going though she waited for him to just get it out. “I’m looking for a submissive. Do you understand what that means?”
She wasn’t stupid. “What sort of submissive?”
“In the bedroom,” he explained. “There would be…rules.”
She was certain he could deliver this information without making it sound so sinister. “What sort of rules?”
“I can send it to you,” he murmured, cutting a glance to her. “If you’re interested?”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then we part ways with no hard feelings,” he replied easily. “It’s not for everyone and I’m not in the business of forcing women into having sex with me.”
“But…but you won’t have sex without these conditions?” she questioned.
“Precisely.”
And Elain, who was perhaps not thinking entirely clearly and still far too interested in him, despite the disastrous date, decided to be bold again. “Send me your rules.”
Lucien smiled. “You got it, baby.”
LUCIEN:
He didn’t hear from her all day. Lucien had his contract sent over that very next morning along with another good morning text. She’d said nothing at all, filling him with cold dread. Silence was an answer just as sure as anything and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d fucked his hand in his car and how it had still smelled like her when he’d gotten in that morning.
He wasn’t going to push.
Still, he was in a foul mood when he returned home, throwing off his clothes angrily around his large bedroom. Phone tossed on the bed, Lucien paced restlessly. He could have had her all the same—he could have started out by meeting her expectations before easing her into it. He wanted too much all at once and Elain in that tight dress had made him too desperate.
Considering just walking it all back, Lucien went into his bedroom again where his phone screen was lit up against the black blankets.
My sister is a lawyer. I don’t think any of this is enforceable.
Of course it wasn’t. It was merely an agreement between them, one he could set expectations up front so there was no confusion later down the road. Not that things couldn’t be negotiated but Lucien had learned early it was better to just tell people what he wanted. Lucien liked to fuck rough, liked inflicting pain and he liked doing it to someone who wanted to take it. Clear consent, clear boundaries.
Consider it guidelines, then.
He waited, staring at the blue bubbles on the other end. She’d read it and she wasn’t running. Lucien thought that was positive, over all.
So you’d negotiate?
Fuck he would have done just about anything if she agreed. Still, there were some things he was unwilling to bend on—the submissive and the dominant roles being the most important.
Tell me your terms.
Elain was quick.
I’m okay with spanking but no belts.
Reasonable. Lucien could abide by that. Still, he wondered if there was a middle ground as he texted:
What about paddles?
It took her a moment to formulate a response. Lucien appreciated how thoughtful she was.
Maybe. Ease me into it and we’ll see. How hard do you plan on going in the beginning?
Not hard at all, at this rate. He took a steadying breath.
We can start small, work our way into it. See what you like and what you don’t.
He almost asked her to come over and find out. He’d tied her up with silk easy enough to escape and lick his way up and down her body. He wasn’t sure he wanted to fuck her just yet—Lucien was certain if he did, he’d compromise too much and lose the things he enjoyed, too. More bubbles from Elain.
How will you know if I don’t like something?
Lucien tapped out his reply.
We’ll have a safeword. Say it and I’ll stop. You have control, too, even if you’re yielding it. If you can’t trust me, this doesn’t work.
I barely know you.
Come over. Let’s rectify that. No contract—just conversation and whatever else feels good.
There was a beat and then—
Okay.
Lucien sent a car over, letting her know not to get on her bike given the lateness of the hour. Turning in a circle, he surveyed his apartment through the eyes of a new person. He hadn’t invited a woman over in…fuck. Since Jess, if he was honest. Not that he hadn’t had his moments in between but those were quick and dirty and never in his bed.
Not that Elain was a girlfriend—Lucien didn’t want that. He merely wanted a reliable partner for sex, like a step above fuck buddy but step below girlfriend. Most women balked at that. He could see Elain finding fault with that, too, but Lucien had girlfriends in the past. Too messy, too painful. Jess had taken his heart out of his body and pulverized it beneath her immaculate shoes. No hard feelings, she’d said after sleeping with his best friend at the time. It hadn’t worked out with Tamlin but she’d almost launched herself into the stratosphere. Tamlin had money, power, and prestige without working for it. Lucien would always be working, would always be merely the seventh born son.
Eris was too into blondes to ever give Jess the time of day. Still, Lucien hadn’t wanted a girlfriend before Jess, either. He’d merely romanticized her to the point of divorcing her desire to accumulate wealth and power from what he wanted her to be—someone who loved him for him, and not his last name.
He closed the door to his playroom firmly, though he intended to give her a tour if she expressed interest. He wouldn’t bring her in tonight…but maybe soon if she responded well to some light bondage and a small spark of pain. Lucien tied up his bedroom, changing out of his suit for a more casual set of black basketball shorts and an easily removed white t-shirt. He tied his hair off his face and left only ankle socks on his feet. Tossing his clothes in the hamper and his dishes in the sink, Lucien thought his space, big as it was, was obviously masculine and still tastefully decorated and inviting enough. It wasn’t as if she’d see much, anyway. The hall, the living room and the massive glass wall overlooking the city…but Lucien intended to veer her into his bedroom even if all she wanted was to talk.
Get her used to coming straight here, at any rate.
A knock on his door sent Lucien scrambling, settling at the last minute to project an aura of cool. He opened the door casually, surprised to see Elain also casual. No dress and very little make-up. He could see the faint freckles on her nose and that ugly purple bruise still blotted against her fair, flawless skin. She had a bag shrugged over her shoulder which gave him hope. Dressed in skin tight leggings, slouchy boots, and an oversized top, he realized he’d been right that she was hot with and without the makeup. Had she put more lacy underwear on for him? Something to remove with his teeth, perhaps?
She fiddled with the tail of her low pony. “I just brought the bag in case…I can go home—”
“No worries. Come in.” He hadn’t meant to leave her out in the hall ogling.
Elain’s interest was polite, eyes wide as she drank in the large paintings on the wall and his immaculate furniture.
“You know, the wealthy man who is a secret deviant is kind of a cliche,” she said, dropping her little bag by the door as she came into his bedroom. Lucien closed the open closet and the bathroom, having already closed the bedroom door. A mounted tv against the wall could provide entertainment if his hands and mouth could not, and Lucien thought it better if there was only them and four uninterrupted walls.
“Oh yeah?” he replied, enjoying her sense of humor. “I’m starting to think you’re a brat, Elain.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out her phone to scroll through the photos she’d taken of his contract.
“It doesn’t say anything in here about being a bra—”
“You just are,” he interrupted. “I can work with that.”
“So I don’t have to be your docile little pet on a leash?”
“Jesus Christ, Elain.”
“I also see you want me on birth control–”
“I like to fuck raw,” was his explanation. “Go to the clinic and get checked out. I’ll do the same.”
She blinked.
“What’s the point of this? Is it like a NDA?’
He almost laughed. “I would prefer discretion, but I doubt anyone is interested that seriously in my sex life. It’s more like guidelines, like I said. I want to be upfront about what I’m looking for.”
“And what, exactly, are you looking for?”
Fuck. He recognized that guarded expression, her wary curiosity.
“Like a fuck buddy but with rules. As long as we’re doing this, we’re not fucking other people. No dating, no romance and if you change your mind, no hard feelings.”
“No dating,” she repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. “No dating.”
“You took me on a date yesterday.”
Ah, fuck.
“That was different,” he tried to explain, unable to explain the relief cascading over her features.
“No dating is good. Great, even,” she replied.
“Because I’m so bad at it?” he tried to joke. Elain shook her head, toying with her ponytail again.
“My boyfriend broke up with me a few weeks ago and I’m sucking at getting over it. I don’t want another boyfriend…and I don’t think I would fit into your world, anyway. I’m always dating and maybe slowing down and figuring myself out and having a little fun without all the pressure of everything else would be nice.”
Lucien’s relief was punctured by one sentence. I don’t think I would fit into your world, anyway.
He shook it off. “So…is that a yes?”
“It’s a conditional yes,” Elain replied. “I want to get a feel for it because I’m all in.”
She eyed the leather restraints resting against his headboard.
“There’ll be none of that tonight,” Lucien murmured, though he very much hoped to spread her out at some point. Deciding he’d hold off on showing her the playroom, Lucien joined her on the bed. “Let's start easy.”
She nodded.
“The only thing I want to know right now is if you’re my good girl or if you’re my brat.”
Elain sucked in a breath, looking up at him with those wide, doe eyes. “What’s the difference?” she murmured as he stroked her face.
“My good girl lives to please me and a brat likes to push my buttons.”
“How would I know which one I was?” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. Lucien wanted to kiss her.
“My good girl would tell me how she really got this bruise,” he whispered, thumb rubbing over the hurt. “And I’d reward her for being honest.”
She exhaled against his palm. “And what would a brat do?”
“She’d make me pull it out of her.”
“I think I’d rather be your good girl,” Elain whispered, unaware of how immediately tight his entire body went. That was Lucien’s favorite dynamic, though he didn’t mind a little brattiness from time to time.
Still stroking her face, Lucien murmured, “Tell me, baby girl, who hurt you.”
He waited for her natural resistance, for her to tell him some little lie. Elain opened those sweet, wide eyes and he watched her give in. Testing herself to see how it felt. Trusting this moment and him, too. If he reacted badly, if he flew off the handle or punished her unfairly, Elain would back away. He’d promised to reward her.
“His name is Jack. He pushed me down the stairs.”
Lucien swallowed his hatred. “Is Jack the ex-boyfriend?”
“Arina’s,” she said, scooting a little closer. He could see, from the anger and anguish warring in her features, that Elain needed to tell someone this. He was a stranger, harmless to her.
Ex-boyfriend.
“No one gets to put a hand on what’s mine,” Lucien murmured. Elain practically melted at his words. She wanted to be taken care of which worked out perfectly well for Lucien. “Do I need to teach him a lesson?”
“He’s gone,” she murmured, some of the fantasy shifting into reality. He saw the wariness return. Too far, though Lucien wasn’t about to let it go. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he’d put it on Eris’s radar if he was still panting after the roommate.
“You’ll tell me if he comes back.” It wasn’t a question. And Elain, the good little thing, nodded her head.
“Good girl,” he praised. “My good girl. I reward my girl when she’s good. Do you want to know how?”
Elain nodded, letting him push her gently to the bed. This was easy, was just a test run. He had every intention of putting her on her on her knees but first, rewards. After all, Lucien had promised and she’d been honest. Elain watched, heavy lidded, as Lucien straddled her hips. “Arms up.”
She did exactly as she was told, letting him pull off her shirt and find the lacy black bra beneath. He couldn’t help his smile.
“For me?”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip. Lucien dragged a finger over the fabric, teasing her nipples just beneath. “Take it off.”
Her back arched, pushing her body against his erection without meaning to. She sucked in a breath but didn’t stop, unsnapping quickly and sliding it over her arms. Just like that, Elain’s small, pert breasts were all but in his face. Naked from the top up, Lucien wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone half as sexy. Her hair tumbled around her face, half covering her from view. It was all he could do not to bury his face between them though Lucien wasn’t above a little groping. His hands dwarfed her, taking them entirely into his palm. Elain watched, her eyes impossibly dark, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Are you going to be loud for daddy?” he asked because God he wanted to hear her scream. Lucien wanted to see her on her hands and knees and beg, but for now, learning that she needed to articulate what she wanted—and loudly—was enough. Elain nodded, still watching.
He licked the length of her abdomen, taking her pants in his teeth and tugging. She gasped softly and Lucien thought it was probably too easy to impress her.
“When’s the last time someone ate this pretty pussy, Elain?”
She swallowed hard. “Um…”
He waited, sliding his fingers into the band of her pants to help shimmy them down her body. “I asked you a question.”
“I can’t remember,” she admitted, jumping ever so slightly at the tone of his voice. “A year, maybe?”
Lucien felt bewildered. “What about your boyfriend?” He said it with an ugly sneer.
“He didn’t like it,” she said, utterly naked save for the matching thong. Lucien was obsessed with the thought of Elain dressing herself up for him, putting on cute little things only he could see.
Lucien lowered himself before her, slinging her slim thighs up over his shoulders.
“No wonder you’re so needy,” he murmured, kissing her pussy through the fabric. “You’ve been neglected.”
Elain whined softly as he nuzzled against her, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of her body. What kind of man had this wet, soft creature in his bed and didn’t devour her? Lucien had been dying to have her pussy on his face since he’d met her, since he’d watched her cross and uncross her legs in his chair.
Pulling her out of them, Lucien stared for a moment at her bare, soaking cunt. Spread open and quivering, Lucien couldn’t believe he’d put his fingers inside her and then drove her home. If he’d known how fucking sexy she was, he’d have had his cock in her, needs be damned.
“Fuck, baby,” he praised, rubbing her clit with his thumb. Elain responded with a sweet moan. “So wet for me.”
He was toying with her, watching how she arched and wiggled. She’d come so easily on his hand, drenching his pant leg in her slick. Lucien had smelled her on his skin all day no matter how hard he’d scrubbed. Now he’d have her on his tongue every time he spoke.
“I’m going to taste you, now,” Lucien told her, breathing the words against her wet skin. “And you’re going to be really loud for me so I know what you like. Do you understand, baby?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. Close enough. Lucien would take it, at any rate. He hadn’t quite figured it out with her, though he was usually sir with the others. He was testing out the whole daddy thing, had always wanted that dynamic, though he’d never had a submissive who made it seem genuine. Elain looked so sweet, so innocent that it felt more natural.
Tired of teasing and fascinated with the thought that there had been a man out there that hadn’t like eating pussy, Lucien slid his tongue up the length of her, just to see if maybe there was something bad about the way she tasted. He groaned, grinding his cock into the bed at the explosion against his senses. She was fucking good, better, even, that he’d imagined. There was a sweetness that clung to her that made her more than palatable. He could have bottled her and worn her like cologne if he’d had half a mind.
“This is my pussy now,” he told her, offering slow, languid swipes of his tongue against her trembling clit. “No one else gets to touch it. No one but me gets to taste. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” she moaned, grinding her hips into his face.
“Greedy,” he warned, noting how her eyes went wide. “Behave yourself.”
And fuck Lucien if she didn’t settle herself down, spreading her legs wider. One day he’d let her be wild, would let her do whatever she liked but today she’d do everything he said if only to prove this was a good fit for them both.
“Good girl,” he praised, returning to his kissing and sucking. Elain merely moaned every time he did something that felt good and remained silent when he didn’t. It’s how Lucien learned she didn’t like the hard and fast flicks and didn’t like when he combined sensations all at once. She liked a steady pressure and the flat of his tongue stroking up and down the center of her while his fingers teased at her opening without actually penetrating. Her hips began to roll again, her moaning reaching a fever pitch. Lucien wanted to die, was so hard he couldn’t think straight. She was so hot, so wet and when Lucien pushed a finger into her gasping, sucking pussy, he was reminded that she was tight, too.
She came apart with a scream, writhing and grinding against his face until he pushed her back to the bed. It was enough to punish her, at any rate, though he rode her through it just because he liked the sight of her naked.
“What did I tell you about being greedy?” he gasped when she was done, catching her wide eyes filled with lust.
“Sorry–”
“Get up,” he ordered, stunned when she scrambled to her feet to obey. Her tits bounced as Elain stood at the edge of the mattress, her legs still trembling from her orgasm. Lucien reached for a pillow and dropped it at her feet so she’d have something soft to kneel against.
“Take off my shorts,” he said. Her eyes sharpened, stepping towards him.
“Can…can I take off your shirt, too? Sir,” she amended quickly.
“Daddy,” he replied, gauging her reaction.
“Daddy,” she breathed. “Please?”
“Yes,” he agreed, if only to be as naked as she was. Lucien was still struck dumb by the soft curve of her body, the flare of her hips and the pull of her waist. Her breasts were perfect, tilted upwards towards the sky and tipped with the rosiest nipples he’d ever seen. Elain was stunning, obviously gorgeous but every inch of her was somehow pretty. He didn’t know how to describe it any other way.
She was careful with his shirt, sliding up over his chest was careful fingers. Lucien swallowed a groan at this slow exploration, helping her get it over his head, given Elain was a good head and shoulders smaller than him. Petite was the right word, he supposed.
Perfection.
She stared for a moment, hands at her sides. “Someday, I’ll let you lick,” he murmured, reaching for her wrists and putting them against the waistband for his shorts. “Something other than my cock, I mean.”
She gazed up through dark lashes.
“Take them off and then get on your knees.”
Elain treated his shorts and briefs the same way she’d done with the shirt. Slowly removing, fingertips grazing his skin. Her eyes went wide when his cock sprang free, swollen and thick and practically weeping precum. Elain sank to her knees, letting him tug her ponytail from her hair and sweep the curls up in his fingers.
“Greedy girls suck cock just the way I like,” he told her. “And I like to bruise your throat. Do you understand?”
“Yes, daddy,” she whispered. He was going to come in five seconds, he just knew it.
“Open your mouth, baby,” he ordered. “Be my good girl and stick out your tongue.”
She did so immediately, allowing him to wipe the beaded moisture of his slit against the pillowy soft tongue hanging between her lips.
“Swallow.”
She did, never taking her eyes off him.
“Good girl. Open again.”
This time, Lucien pushed himself into her mouth, stopping when he heard her gag softly. She barely had a third of him. He’d have to train her but Lucien had the time and the inclination. He’d bring her to work with him, put her beneath his desk, and have her work him root to tip all day like it was her greatest purpose in life.
Dragging himself out, Lucien managed one command. “Suck.”
She did, hollowing her cheeks, eyes never leaving his face.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”
Elain didn’t say anything at all, though a flush of pleasure stole over her cheeks. She was a perfect submissive, he decided. Rough around the edges but eager to please and so utterly trainable.
Lucien practically vibrated with delight, holding her face steady to push himself into her.
“Can you take more? Widen your jaw, baby,” he murmured, watching her gasp a quick breath of air before he pushed further, the crown of his aching cock hitting the spongy softness of her throat.
“Use your hand,” he added when it was clear anymore would hurt her. He was holding himself back, easing her in, just as he’d promised. “Perfect. You’re perfect, baby. Look at how pretty you are, sucking my cock.”
Tears slid from her eyes, dragging mascara with it. Next time he hoped she didn’t wear it, though he wiped it with his thumbs as he pumped in and out of her mouth. She timed her hand, using her saliva to lubricate his skin.
“My good girl,” Lucien praised, every inch of him impossibly tight. He was clenching his ass to keep from coming though he couldn’t hold back much longer. “Are you going to swallow daddy’s come? Hm? Good girls swallow.”
She hummed her approval and Lucien groaned again.
“Good girl,” he said, increasing his hips until all he could hear was the wet sucking and gagging of her mouth. “Fuck, Elain—” he came with a rough, ugly grunt, pushing an inch further than he’d meant to. Hot ropes of come spurted from his cock directly into her throat and Elain, with on hand bracing his naked thigh, her eyes wide with surprise, took it all.
He hauled her to her feet, game over for the moment. “Good job, Elain, you did so well, c’mere—” he kissed her, lavishing praise and soft touches over her skin. At some point he’d keep her as his submissive the entire time she was in his apartment but for now, Lucien let her slide back into herself, the part that sassed him back, at any rate.
Lucien got her into the bed, pushing back the blankets and tossing her his shirt while he pulled on his shorts. The sight of her draped in his clothes made him achy all over again.
Tugging her against his chest, Lucien stroked her hair.
“How was it?”
“A little weird,” she admitted. “But I liked it. I uh…it felt nice,” she said, nuzzling into his chest.
“Good,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You can always stop–”
“Should we pick a safe word?”
They should have at the fucking beginning. He’d gotten lucky she hadn’t needed it. “Yeah. What do you want? Something that doesn’t belong in the bedroom…so don’t choose stop.”
She frowned. “How about vodka?”
He smiled, kissing her forehead. “Works for me.”
“Isn’t cuddling outside of the bounds of fuck buddies?”
“Nah. First of all, we’re between fuck buddies and dating. Like…friends with very specific benefits. And afterwards, you should get used to being taken care of, especially if something is painful. It’s just good practice…and I’m not above a little cuddling, besides.”
“What are you above?”
Lucien shifted uncomfortably. “Vodka.”
“Are you safe wording this conversation?”
“Yes. I don’t want to discuss what might convince me into a relationship. I don’t want one.” His voice was too hard though he kept his touch light, sweet. “Trust I won’t change my mind.”
That settled her.
“Well…just for the record, friends with benefits implies some manner of friendship. You could be open without worrying I want to date you.”
But Lucien didn’t trust that. He wanted to believe her because Elain was earnest and nice and had done everything he asked. He’d been around too many women with ulterior motives, who wanted to be a Vanserra more than they wanted anything else.
He kissed her head.
“Let’s watch a movie baby,” he murmured.
She curled closer. “Whatever you want.”
Lucien smiled.
“Good girl.”
#elucien#elucien fanfiction#elucien smut#elucien fic#elain x lucien#what i love about lucien#is consistently he is like#i am not tempted#and then is IMMEDIATELY tempted#right into marriage
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Describe your F/O to the person who may not know them well! Then tag 10 people to do the same. I invite any followers who want to fill this out for their f/o(s), I’m always too shy to actually tag people 🙈 If you wanna do it, feel free!!
Thanks for the tag @ungalobrando!! Get ready, I have lots of thoughts about this man, some of these are headcanons because he deserves better
NAME: Hiromi Higa / Shadow
SOURCE: Sk8 the Infinity
TITLE(S): Lord Shadow, Anti-Hero of S (also dad and peepaw)
PET NAME(S): Honey bear, Romi-bear, punkin pie, piggie, sweet boy, my man (last one is almost always said in weird babytalk voice)
STATUS: Alive
SPECIES: Human / clown
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Questioning / Bi (there’s no way he’s 100% straight)
PRONOUNS: He/him (sometimes she/her)
AGE: Twenty-freakin-FOUR!! (Though I’ve heard season 1 of Sk8 possibly takes place in 2019... So I guess he’d be around 27-28 now?? Good - our age gap is less than I thought 😅)
HEIGHT: 178cm / 5′10″ (looks taller as Shadow due to hair / boots... also I think this show pulls a Jojo sometimes and character heights are subjective to the situation bc he looks HUGE compared to the other characters at times)
WEIGHT: Only 73kg / 160lbs canonically but I refuse to believe that... there’s no way a hefty dude like him weighs so little. I think 170-180 AT LEAST is more reasonable for him, considering his size.
BODY TYPE: HIM BIG. Brawny and top-heavy. Broad-shouldered, muscular and somewhat toned but still a bit of chub - think rugby player build. Finding pants in Japan is a STRUGGLE cuz he’s tall and he ass too big. Skating is probably great for the buns and thighs tho
SKIN: Sorta medium beige with cool undertones. Would be SO cute with a farmer’s tan 🥺 Paints his nails sometimes. No real tattoos or piercings because he's too babie (I think he has a tongue ring only bc he lost a bet or had a rebellious streak when he was younger)
HAIR: Fluffy ginger undercut/mohawk. The depth of red in his hair changes with the lighting.
EYES: Gray, but very reflective and expressive
ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good/Chaotic neutral... I think...
INTERESTS: His manager 😂😭 flowers, flower language, gardening, music, board games, fitness / body building, makeup, drag, shoujo manga / anime, skateboarding, wrestling, languages (he speaks both English and French to some degree, and knows some Latin... I will not be convinced otherwise)... also kinda nosy and likes to learn about people. Dude’s got the gossip.
PROFESSION: Florist 💐
SKILLS: Skateboarding, makeup, creativity, sarcasm, costume design, minor pyrotechnics, acting, heavy lifting, customer service, flower arranging, driving (apparently drifting / rally style? Skrrt skrrrt?? WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT SIR???)
He definitely can also touch his nose AND elbows with his tongue (... Is that a skill?!)
WEAKNESSES: Baseball bats 😂😭 poor baby, but for real... Insecurities, confidence, quick temper, inferiority / feeling like he has to prove himself, overthinking
COMPANIONS: Them boys!!! Aside from his own crew of followers at S, he serves as a brotherly figure / uncle / bruncle to the younger boys. Probably closest to Miya out of the main character group. Friends with Kaoru, idolizes Joe a bit and wants to be closer with both. Reki and Langa have tried to push him closer to Oka 👀
ENEMIES: KAZU (I genuinely hope Hiromi absolutely fucked his shit up and put him in the hospital too)(”Yeah I look bad, but you should see what I did to the other guy”)
PETS: No animals, but lots of house plants. I could see him having fish if anything, especially an aquarium with plants. Probably a fan of marimo moss balls 🥺
WEAPONS: 💪THESE GUNS💪 firecrackers (haemanthus bomb), laser pointer (gladiolus laser), snake ribbon things (violet spider) and apparently 80+ other secret attacks... I guess you could also count his board and the spikes on his costume??
SUBSTANCES: Alcohol (kind of a lightweight), he had cigarettes in the host club drama??? 😬 Hopefully smoking's just an occasional social thing
DRIVER LICENSE?: See above (yes - and he does deliveries for work in that car. Skrrt skrrt.)
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Hey! I like the fandoms you post about. Do you have any book recommendations? I need something to listen to while I file things at work but I’m bad at predicting what I’ll like because it feels like nothing I’m into has any Google-able overlap. It’s like, if I enjoy the author’s outlook I’ll love anything they make but I don’t care what the book is actually about.
I think about this quote all the time, esp when Netflix is all “you liked Buffy, you might like Vampire Diaries.”😒
“No one knew what Ganseylike was, even Gansey. Teachers and family friends were always collecting articles and stories that they thought might capture his attention, things they thought were Ganseylike. The well-meaning items always addressed the most obvious parts of him. Welsh kings or old Camaros or other young people who had travelled the world for bizarre reasons no one else understood. No one dug down past that, and he supposed he didn't much encourage it. There was a lot of night in those days behind him, and he preferred to turn his face into the sun. Ganseylike. What was Ganseylike?” — The Raven King
First of all you are absolutely correct. I had completely forgotten that Gansey quote but it really does summarise where recommendations fail so well.
My first thought was oh what do I like with similar themes or in the same category? But fuck that I'm just gonna tell you my favourites and a little about them and you can pick what interests you.
1. My FAVOURITE book is The Goldfinch. I only read it this year but it absolutely destroyed my brain and I havent recovered.
Basic summary: 13 year old Theo Decker survives a terrorist attack at an art gallery but loses his mother and in his shock accidentally takes home famous painting: The Goldfinch. First half of the story is him as a teen, second half is as an adult. Theres a lot of themes like drug abuse, internalized homophobia, PTSD and suicide. It's a great book if you love analyzing the fuck out of books. He also develops a mildly codependent (and very gay) friendship with another boy who later becomes a gangster.
It is very different to NHIE and TRC in that it's a lot more....negative? Like the plot resolves itself but you will not be satisfied by the ending. The characters are all very flawed, which I suppose is similar to characters like Adam and Devi but in different ways.
2. Six of Crows- have you read this? If you havent it's like a mandatory read. Its technically a sequel to Shadow and Bone but I read it first and it was fine.
Summary- 6 rag tag teens team up in a dangerous fantasy world to take on the heist of the century.
It's so good man. When I tell you Kaz Brekker is my favourite character of all time I am not joking. Also bonus points for a disabled main character as written by a disabled author. It's very found family with a lot of plot twists and lovable characters.
3. All for the game- this one is here because I love it but objectively I know it's an acquired taste with questionable writing.
All 3 of these so far show my love of a sneaky protagonist with an allergy to telling people about themselves. These books are absolutely bizarre and shouldnt work but they do!
Basic summary: Neil Josten has spent his life on the life from his mobster father after he and his mother escaped him. His mom just died and rather than keep hiding he allows himself to take the opportunity of a lifetime to go to college and play Exy (made up sport) for a team that specializes in taking those who have had rough lives and usually would be picked (e.g drug addicts, foster kids etc)
It's a surprisingly wonderful series about mental health, occasional murder and one of the best love stories I've read. This one is also really popular with ao3 so if you're after something that will give you a lot of wonderful ff this is the best one so far.
(There are a number of trigger warnings for this book I would recommend you look up beforehand.)
Bonus rec: Vicious by V.E Scwab. I need to go into work now but basically told from the supervillains perspective, but honestly I'm on his side anyway. Victor just got out of prison and has the ability to control pain. So he can either inflict pain or say hire henchmen that he pays by curing their chronic pain. (As someone with chronic pain I cant blame them tbh)
he also adopts this kid who can resurrect the dead and it's a great little supervillain found family. I havent read it in ages but there is a sequel I need to read and from what I remember it was very good.
#book recs#all these main characters are slytherins do i have a type#for protaganists not in women thank god#i did not proofread this bc i need to go into work hope its not crap
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Shades of Us III – Mint
Poly!Namgi x Reader (f)
Word Count: 2.4k
Tags: College!AU, Fluff, Humor (semi-crack), Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Frenemies to Lovers, Namjoon is cluelessly adorable, Yoongi’s shy, MC is going with the flow.
Notes: The third part of SoU, moving in hehe. I left a picture of the general layout of the apartment at the end of this part! Let me know what you all think, I appreciate feedback!
Part of the Shades of Us Series!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glancing up from the sink, you let out a small sigh at the sight of yourself staring back. It’s finals week, and you look a little sleepy, a little insane. Patting a towel against your face to dry it off, there’s a little ding from your bedroom, most likely the boys telling you that they’re here finally.
It’s been about a month since the guys said they’d move in, and you still can’t believe that they even wanted to. The apartment is nothing special, definitely on the smaller side, but they agreed anyway. Both of them even stopped by to check the place out, measure it up, all that shit. Of course, they’d both been around to just hang out, but still.
The layout of the apartment is alright in your opinion, not the best but it’s what’s affordable. Three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a super small balcony (which is where you keep many of your plants). Most of the walls are white, and most of the flooring is wooden, although you have a few decorations and rugs scattered around for a pop of color. Speaking of pops of color…
The only fight that Yoongi put up was with the fact that his room is painted a very light green color courtesy of your previous roommate. As much as he didn’t like the shade, he enjoyed the view from the room the most… which consisted of a tree completely blocking out the sun. Perfect for him to be fair.
Wandering out of the bathroom and over to your bedroom, you pick up the phone off your dresser and check the messages quickly. It’s Joon letting you know that he and Yoongi arrived and are starting to unload downstairs. It’s still hilarious that they decided to make this a team effort to you. Something tells you Namjoon had to work some magic to convince the other man that it was a good idea.
The two decided to move in on the same day to get it over and done with quickly most likely, but that came at a price. They rented one truck that Yoongi drove to his place and then Joon’s, and then to top it off he stayed the night at Namjoon’s. You can only imagine how that went. You had tried to help but they insisted that it was fine since you had a final yesterday.
Kicking on some sandals, you unlock the front door, walk down the hall, and practically skip down the stairs. Stepping through the main entrance, you push a rock up against the door to keep it propped open so that moving everything will be s little less work. Spotting the truck and then Yoongi isn’t a challenge, he’s dressed up like a black hole that’s attempting to wiggle out a box that seems to be stuck in the back seat. How adorable.
“How was sleeping over at Joon’s last night?” The man pauses and turns back to look at you as you approach, the bags under his eyes immediately noticeable and a tiny bit unsettling. You’ll take that as a “not good.”
“A fucking nightmare. He snored so loud I thought the world might actually end from the vibrations causing a tsunami.” You snort loudly at the comparison as Namjoon wanders around the corner of the truck, two large boxes balanced in his arms. Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem playful but almost sheepish.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been so stressed out about making sure that the track for my final is perfect…” This makes Yoongi pause, a flicker of something coming across his face before he clears his throat. There’s a best of silence and then…
“… It’s alright Joon, don’t worry about it. I was just joking.” You attempt to try to take a box from Joon but he won’t allow it, backing away before a big grin splits onto his face. As always, he looks absolutely adorable with his pretty dimples. There’s something poking out of the top, cloth maybe? It’s a pretty minty sage color of green, maybe a shirt…
“I know Kitty, I was just kidding. NOW! Let’s start moving stuff inside, hm?” Yoongi’s mouth drops open before he starts to grumble as you continue to giggle at their antics. Rounding the side of the truck, you peer into the back. Their beds seem to be packed up inside along with a good few boxes. Grabbing a random one that says “YOONGIS SHIT”, you start to carry it inside along with Joon.
“There’s not as much as I thought there would be…” Namjoon hums in front of you, starting up the stairs without issue. You follow suit, making sure to be very cautious of not dropping any of Yoongi’s things. There’s got to be music and art equipment scattered throughout the boxes and you won’t be responsible for paying for it. The shit is pricy.
“I lived in the dorms so there wasn’t much to bring with. the bulk of it is probably the bigger things like our beds and equipment. Nothing too insane.” A blessing and a curse to live in the dorms. Yoongi was in an apartment as well, but he doesn’t seem o have a whole lot either.
Thankfully, your roommates had left a majority of the furniture behind, the only thing you’re really missing is a couch for the living room and a table and chairs for eating. Nothing too important in the end, the floor always makes a good table. Now to unload for the next few hours…
Getting to your front door, you balance the box carefully in one arm and twist the handle with your free hand. The bare living room glares back at you, sad and lonely without much furniture. Stepping in, Namjoon follows suit and immediately walks toward his new room. You’ll never admit it, but you’re very glad that his snoring ass will be in the farthest room from yours.
Walking to Yoongi’s room, you open the door and set the box down on the carpet right inside of the doorway. The sheer number of dark colors he’s sure to scatter everywhere will probably offset the room, and you’re a tad bit curious to see how it ends up. Same with Namjoon’s room, you had never managed to see either of them.
Stepping back out, you see Namjoon going to step out and jog to catch up. He waits patiently, opening the front door and head turning for you to go first. Just as he’s about to shut the door, there’s a loud crash from the stairway.
“I fucking hate stairs, fuck!” Namjoons sprinting past you before you can even comprehend, and then it hits you. Yoongi fell down the fucking stairs holy shit. You run to catch up, peering down to see the poor guy at the bottom laying flat with a few boxes surrounding him on the ground.
“Yoongi, are you okay?! Does anything hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?” Namjoon crouches over the man as you step down the stairs, arm holding him up slightly, and you come around the other side to get a better view. He looks okay, but that doesn’t mean much…
“Negative two, now let me up you doofus.” Namjoon actually huffs a bit before flicking Yoongi on the forehead lightly. He glanced to you for help but you just shrug, noting that he mouths something along the lines of ‘betrayer’ but not caring.
“Oh, I’m the doofus? I don’t recall falling down the stairs like a certain clumsy kitten.” Yoongi turns the brightest shade of red you’ve ever seen, ears even lighting up with the color. He goes to stand up, Namjoon standing with him for support, but winces and falls back slightly against the tallers chest.
“Nam- What are you doing?!” Namjoon takes this as an invitation apparently and hefts Yoongi up into his arms like a blushing bride, holding him protectively like a damn knight. A short cackle leaves you at the look on Yoongi’s face, an odd mix between panic and wanting to die.
“I think you should rest for a bit and we can get back to it. You can just sit on the truck and relax. Don’t you think so too, cutie?” He addresses you and it’s your turn to fluster, muttering out a yes as Yoongi starts to loudly protest. Namjoon doesn’t listen, easily carrying the other man toward the entrance. Namjoon… is a menace. Breathing in deeply, you follow them outside, prepared to endure this for the rest of today… and the foreseeable future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
After the small rest for Yoon and getting everything into the correct place, you and the guys decided to order pizza for dinner for something quick. Gathering around the tv on the floor, you all eat and idly watch a crime documentary as the sluggishness starts to slowly seep in. Yoongi had an ice pack on his foot, forced there by Joon, but he seems to be doing better overall. Humming a bit, you look toward the other two, catching Namjoon’s eye as he finishes a sip of soda.
“So how is everyone doing with their finals? Good?” You grin, somewhat pleased with how finals have been going. Yoongi doesn’t seem the most talkative right now though, so you take the lead.
“Mhm! My final yesterday went super well, I think. I have one more Monday and then I’m done.” Done for the semester, ready for summer. Almost four whole months of freedom from schoolwork and asshole professors. Namjoon nods, pretty dimples appearing as he looks at you with shining eyes.
“That’s amazing! Good job ____, I’m so proud of you for getting through it.” Heating up, you mumble out a thanks at the praise. The man really doesn’t realize what he does to people sometimes, does he…
“What about you Yoongi? Your track all finished up?” Said man stops chewing, cheeks puffed out slightly before he swallows his bite of pizza. His hair looks adorable, black bangs falling into his eyes as he clears his throat.
“Yeah… I just have the final Tuesday with you and then I’m done. My tracks ready to go.” As someone who isn’t involved in music, you can’t help but to be curious. You know they’re both really good after hearing their tracks in the past, but they’ve been super secretive about their final projects.
“You going to give me a little sneak peak of it kitty cat?” Yoongi scoffs loudly, eyes narrowing as he glares at Namjoon. Like always, Joon just smiles back, glasses slowly sliding down his nose.
“Tch, in your dream’s you giant marshmallow…” The taler man actually chuckles at that, eyes crinkling at the corners and Yoongi looks away and grumbles some more. He really does resemble a cat sometimes…
Mind wandering, you realize that there hasn’t really been any talk about how thing spelt around here. Bills and such have already been discussed, but chores and shit haven’t been. Adjusting yourself, you clap your hands against your thighs to get the others attention.
“Time to talk about rules! To start, everyone should wash their own dishes if able. Also, garbage goes out on Wednesday nights because they pick it up early Thursday, so make sure to have it ready to go so I can take it out.” You’re not sure how but you ended up on garbage duty. It’s disgusting but hey, at least you never had to clean the toilet.
“I can take the garbage out if you want! I used to vacuum my dorm room every weekend so I can do that too.” And just like that you’re in love with Namjoon. Beautiful, stunning, handsome Namjoon who’s going to take out the garbage for you. What a sexy man.
“… I like to cook. I could make us dinner some nights and do some of the grocery shopping.” Both you and Joon leer over at Yoongi, surprised to say the least. He doesn’t really seem like the cooking type, but either way, you’re excited for som yummy meals. However…
“I like grocery shopping too! Late night though when no one’s around… I like to look at things in peace.” Shopping at night is always the best, no one can convince you otherwise. Namjoon seems to agree, nodding along with what you say.
“We should all go then. Late night grocery excursions can be a group activity! Wouldn’t you like that Yoongo Boongo?” It’s probably a recipe to get kicked out with how rambunctious they can get with one another. You’ll just pretend not to know them.
“Meh.” Namjoon reached across you to poke the smaller man’s thigh, Yoong twitching a bit before trying to bat him away. This is the life, there’s nothing like having a large man crawl over you to harass a cute small man.
“How about we all go tomorrow night? My final isn’t till two on Monday so I can stay up later.” Thank god for that. You need to do some grocery shopping anyway; the fridge is practically empty since you’ve been so busy. Namjoon perks up a bit before agreeing as Yoongi listens quietly.
“Sounds like a plan then! I’m going to head to bed though, I’m pretty tired after today. You should both head to bed too, you look exhausted… Not in a bad way! You’re both adorable but seriously.” He’s trying to kill you. He must be. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see Yoongi’s cheeks turn the slightest tone of pink as he mutters out a reply.
“Yeah, yeah… If you don’t see me in the morning, I’m not dead, just sleeping. Bother me and I’ll bite you.” With that, Yoongi grabs the paper plates you we’re eating from and raises from his spot to head toward the kitchen. You and Namjoon watch in as he stumbled around, clearly ready to fall into his bed.
“He really is a feisty little thing huh? Hmm, I’ll see you in the morning, and I promise I won’t bite you.” Watching Namjoon get up from the floor, you sit back and watch quietly as both men interact quietly before Joon walks toward the bathroom. Things… Are definitely going to be interesting.
“Goodnight losers!”
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Feast your eyes upon my artistic skills! Note that the scale isn’t exact but kind of close? Idk I think it’s fine 🥴❤️
#shades of us#shades of us part iii#namgi x reader#namgi x reader poly au#namgi poly#namjoon x reader#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#bts x you#bts x reader#bts fluff reactions#bts college au#bts poly
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midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)
requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1
[i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)]
send in your own request here
summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night
part two here
🃛 masterlist
cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes
fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried.
also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him
word count: 5.25k
(so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)
a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx
☯︎ join tag list here
Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.
However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.
A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.
⚔︎
Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.
Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.
The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.
It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.
However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.
⚔︎
You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.
Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.
Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.
Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.
You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.
Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.
The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.
The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?
⚔︎
Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.
Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.
Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.
The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.
Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.
You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.
After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.
⚔︎
The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.
However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.
"What the fuck?"
You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.
"Oh."
Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."
Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.
"Pour me a cup?"
The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.
Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.
"'m surprised you're down here."
Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.
"What'd you mean?"
He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.
"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."
A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.
"I–what?"
The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.
"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."
You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.
"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."
You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.
"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."
An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.
"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.
"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."
A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.
"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."
You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.
"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"
You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.
"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."
You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.
"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."
Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.
"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."
Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.
⚔︎
After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.
While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.
Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.
Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.
It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.
⚔︎
Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.
George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.
You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.
Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.
Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.
"Y/N?"
You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.
You should have known you weren't that lucky.
Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.
"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"
⚔︎
Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.
Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.
Tranquility was what the scene spelt.
In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.
Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.
Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.
You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.
Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.
"Why are you following me."
Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.
"Why are you running away from me?"
Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.
"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"
You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.
But of course, fate never let you have your way.
You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.
"I never ran away from you."
Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.
"Y/N, I'm talking to you."
The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.
"Well that's a first."
Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.
But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.
Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.
Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.
You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.
"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?
Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.
"I–"
"You know how much that hurt?"
You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.
"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"
Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.
Ashamed.
"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."
Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.
"And you know the worst fucking part?"
Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.
"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."
"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."
The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.
Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.
Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.
You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.
"I, I was afraid."
Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.
"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."
It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.
"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."
You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.
"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."
"I wasn't a kid!"
"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."
Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.
"But you never stopped..."
Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.
"Are you being serious?"
His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.
"As serious as I could be Y/N."
Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.
"Can I kiss you?"
A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.
Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.
Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.
The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.
Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.
Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.
"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"
A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.
"Only the best for my girl."
Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?
Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.
His girl.
⚔︎
The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.
The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.
“Can I?”
Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.
One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.
“Yes, I need you.”
You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.
Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.
“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”
Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.
The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.
“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.
“May, may I?”
He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.
You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.
“Are you... a virgin?”
The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.
“No, I’m not.”
His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.
It didn’t matter. You were with him now.
He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.
Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.
Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.
His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.
“Are y’okay?”
You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.
“Yes, just, one second.”
Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.
He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.
“Faster.”
Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.
You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.
Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.
“Are you close baby?”
A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.
One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.
His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.
Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.
But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.
As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.
Yet he still never relented.
As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.
With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.
Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.
Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.
Something you didn’t want to lose either.
⚔︎
The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.
When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.
In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.
“Did you regret that?”
The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.
His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.
“No. Did you?”
The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.
“Of course not.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.
“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”
He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.
“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”
You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.
“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”
You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.
Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.
You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.
“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”
part two out now x
#mine#writing#request#bill weasley#bill weasley x reader#bill weasley angst#bill weasley smut#bill weasley fluff#harry potter fluff#harry potter imagine#harry potter angst#harry potter smut#bill weasley imagine#hp angst#hp imagine#hp fluff#hp smut
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Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)
Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now
Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg
Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.
Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.
Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.
But he's an artist, nonetheless.
Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.
Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.
Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.
Jungkook has a problem however.
He's wild.
Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.
And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.
He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.
No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.
He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.
"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.
"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.
"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.
"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.
"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.
Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-
and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.
But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.
You knew about all of this- and you were still around.
Nothing had changed.
Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.
Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-
You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.
He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?
Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.
No, he refused to deny himself that.
Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.
The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.
You made even the idea of touching fun.
He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.
So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."
He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.
You were stressing. A little.
Maybe.
Maybe a lot.
Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.
Just great.
Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.
But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.
It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.
You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.
He didn't move.
"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.
He thought it was cute.
"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.
"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.
"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.
"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.
In your own apartment.
What the hell?
If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.
"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.
You liked that.
Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.
Interesting.
"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.
"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.
"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.
"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.
"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.
"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.
Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.
Interesting, again.
Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.
However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.
And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.
The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.
“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.
“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.
“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.
“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.
This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.
“You’re not ready yet.”
And with that, he turns back to the TV.
You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.
You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.
Looking at his face is your first mistake.
His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.
"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.
It makes your spine tingle.
"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.
At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.
So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.
He wants to make you understand.
"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.
And you nod.
"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.
"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."
His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.
"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.
"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.
"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.
"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.
"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.
"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.
"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.
"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.
"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.
"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.
Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?
Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.
"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.
"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.
"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.
Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.
"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.
"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.
"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.
"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.
"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.
He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.
"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.
"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.
You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.
There's only one way to find out.
You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.
You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.
He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.
His sweater seems soft.
You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.
This is nice.
You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.
This is really nice.
"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.
"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.
"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.
He's glad.
Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.
Jungkook really has it bad.
You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.
"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.
"Not for food."
He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.
"Or what?"
His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.
"Bunny." You say.
He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.
He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.
"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.
"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.
He's not sorry.
"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.
He almost looks uncertain.
"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.
"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.
You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.
"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.
He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.
Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.
Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-
He's also opening his heart as well.
Your first time together is slow and comfortable.
It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.
Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.
He has to learn just as much as you do.
"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.
"Can I?"
It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.
"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.
Its after a moment that you realize it.
"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.
"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.
"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.
"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.
You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.
"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.
"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.
Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.
You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.
Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.
He sighs out.
And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.
You really were something else.
He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.
There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.
He's on cloud nine.
You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.
"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.
"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.
"This is a new start, for both of us."
"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.
"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.
"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.
"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.
"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.
"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.
It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.
It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.
It would make sense.
“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.
“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.
“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.
He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.
“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..
“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.
“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.
You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.
He can't take his eyes off of you.
He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.
He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.
Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.
You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.
Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.
"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.
You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.
His Baby.
You're his.
He wants you.
It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.
You're his perfect puzzle piece.
He lets go.
"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.
Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.
Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.
He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.
"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.
"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.
"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."
"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.
It was still new to you.
Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.
"You." You say, and he chuckles.
"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.
"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.
"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.
By now you easily know your way around his apartment.
So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.
He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.
Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.
You love him.
And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.
"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.
Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.
But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.
And he's totally fine with that.
(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.
#bts imagine#bts#bts fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts fic#bts smut#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts reactions#Rabbit Boy AU
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Kids getting their quirks w/ Todoroki, Deku and Bakugou
Request: *cracks knuckles* uH may i pls have a headcanon for half half bastard, deku, and king explosive murder when their child’s quirk manifests? have a great day (or night lol) iajsmsjsnsk :D 💕- anonymous
Okay my baby fever isn’t over but now I know the main factor. Apart from my new obsession with dad Nanami, my period is also here so yay. I’m in pain. SO let’s feed my baby fever even more with some pro hero dads bc I love them and cherish them. Nanami is still ruling my heart though. Love ya💖💖💖
masterlist II rules
warnings: babies!!!!, domestic au, dad au, fluffy, no warnings really, unless it causes you baby fever so beware of the baby fluffs.
Todoroki Shoto
-Baby was called from the daycare because the twins teacher couldn’t control their quirk manifesting.
-Daycares are ready for quirk manifestation but someone hurt Rei and Ren kinda exploded and they couldn’t control the fire.
-Rei got startled and her ice blocked both toddlers from the outside world as they were now existing in their own little igloo.
-He panics because he fears that they hurt themselves or each other by using their quirks.
-Scenarios of them attempting to hug each other, a habit they’ve had since they were wittle babies, and burning their skin or causing frostbite.
-He rushed to their daycare, paperwork long forgotten on his agency’s desk as he stormed inside the classroom the small ice barrier splitting the room in two making his heart skip a beat.
-Motioning to the teacher to leave he approached the block of ice, touching it with his left hand watching the ice melt as he finally spotted his two little girls, huddled together in the furthest spot of their igloo, trembling in each other’s arms.
-Shoto ducked inside, slowly approaching them as they untangled from each other and rushed to him, meeting him half way in a crushing hug.
-They both sobbed in his chest as he rubbed their backs.
-Shushing them he tried to get a coherent story out of them but the only answer he managed to pry from them was a jumble of sorries and sobs.
-Picking them up, he asked them where their stuff was and after getting everything he excused all three of them and left the daycare, leaving a now melting igloo for the staff to clean up.
-Back at home he managed to get them to calm down completely and made them something to eat.
- “It’s alright, you protected each other like we’ve taught you. Your quirk activating is not your fault so stop blaming yourselves.”
-They didn’t seem very convinced and they reminded him of himself back in high school, when he wouldn’t accept his left side as part of himself.
-Hugging them close once again he left a kiss on each of their little heads, blowing a raspberry on their cheeks making them giggle at the feeling.
-He loves the sound of their laugh.
- “You have no control over your powers and that’s okay. Me and mommy will help you with that.”
-Deep down he was proud of his girls.
-They didn’t lose complete control and Rei managed to minimize her ice from coating the whole classroom.
-He was so happy to have these two little things as his kids.
-They truly were his world.
- “I’m so proud of you my little snowflakes.”
Midoriya Izuku/ Deku
-He thought his son was quirkless.
-You were quirkless, he used to be quirkless so the logical thing was for your kid to also be quirkless.
-Nope you were wrong.
-Turns out he took after his grandma and he has a form of telekinesis.
-Nothing really strong since both of his parents are biologically quirkless.
-It was triggered while you were all chillin in your living room.
-Izuku was scribbling something in one of his notebooks while your son was playing with his hero figurines on the floor.
-You were watching kitchen wars.
-Izuku’s phone started ringing and he shot up to get it, sending the notebook and pen flying across the room.
-You were ready for the inevitable crash but it never came.
-Looking up you saw both the notebook and the pen, levitating a few inches from the floor a slight green glow surrounding them.
-You were shocked looking back and forth from your four year old to the levitating objects.
-Izuku was still talking on the phone and hadn’t realized the revelation that was being displayed in the living room.
-Finally the call was over and he stepped back in, letting out a fucking SQUEAK when he saw his son using his quirk.
-That was enough to break his concentration and the items clattered to the floor, your toddler looking back at his father with huge green eyes, chubby hands reaching out for him.
-In a flash Izuku was on his knees next to the little boy, hugging him so close you thought he couldn’t breath.
-He peppered his chubby face with kisses, praise pouring from his lips like rain as he raised the four year old into the air, baby giggles filling the room.
-You joined them on the floor taking your fill of baby Midoriya pampering before looking at your husband, tears flowing down his cheeks.
-You hadn’t seen him cry ever since your son said his first words.
-And even then you couldn’t blame him, his first word was dada who wouldn’t cry?
- “He has a quirk! Oh my god he has a quirk!”
-Izuku brought both of you into a hug, crushing you to his chest as he kissed both of your foreheads.
- “Thank you thank you thank you.”
-It hit him like a truck how lucky he was to have you both.
-A beautiful wife who loves him for who he is and not for his fame *like many other pros had warned him about* and a son who adores him and asks for daddy every second of the day.
-He didn’t care about a quirk.
-He was scared that his son would also get bullied if he didn’t have one.
-Right now everything was perfect.
Bakugou Katsuki
-If you asked him he didn’t want your son to get his quirk yet.
-If he did that meant that he grew and he wasn’t his wittle baby anymore.
-Your son was playing with his uncles outside while Katsuki was setting up the barbeque.
-He was simultaneously holding your one year old and you were having a heart attack seeing your baby so close to a fire but you trusted him.
-Your son was laughing his ass off as he was chased around the table by four grown ass adults.
- “Be careful around the table.”
-The fact that all five individuals said yes mom terrified you.
-Heading back into the kitchen you only managed to reach the sink before a scream pierced the air and in a flash you were back outside, scanning the yard for who got hurt and where.
-Then your eyes landed on your son who had a hand outstretched in front of him, smoke leaving his small palm while Kaminari was laying face down a few feet away from him, a groan leaving the pro hero as a palm shaped hole was etched on his shirt.
-Everyone was silent as they stared at your four year old, eyes wide in awe at the sheer force of a singular explosion.
-The person who broke the silence was Kirishima who let out a loud woah snapping all of you out of your stupor .
-Bakugou looked at you, pure disbelief in his gaze as his son turned to him.
- “Dad I’m just like you!!”
-You swear in his daze he almost yeeted your baby over his shoulder.
-In one swift motion your son was in his other arm being swung around as their laughs synced into one.
- “Hell yeah you are.”
-Joining them you ruffled your son’s hair as you kissed his cheeks, a deep scarlet blush painting his plush cheeks as he hid his face in his dad’s shoulder.
- “Bravo bud!”
-Sero was next with the praise followed by Mina and Kaminari who also whined about his Hawaiian shirt being ruined.
-For the next hours Katsuki didn’t let him go.
-Didn’t want to let either of his kids go but it got kinda hard with the whole barbeque being his responsibility.
- “We can train together, and work at the agency and go on patrols and…”
-As your son rambled on about the things they could do now that he has his quirk, you looked at your husband, a soft smile plastered on his features.
- “He will never stop needing you Katsu.”
-You whispered as you kissed him softly on the cheek, catching a glimpse of a single teardrop leaving his eye before he quickly rubbed his face on your shoulder.
- “I know.”
TAG TEAM AY:
@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @wolfkid22 @letscheereachotheron @ezoyscorner @luluwiie @threeamwriting @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses
#todoroki shouto#todoroki x reader#todoroki x you#todoroki x y/n#todoroki shoto x reader#shoto x reader#shoto x you#shoto x y/n#dad todoroki#domestic todoroki#deku x reader#deku x you#deku x y/n#midoriya x reader#midoriya x you#midoriya x y/n#midoriya izuku#deku midoriya#bnha midoriya#dad deku#dad midoriya#domestic deku#domestic midoriya#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x y/n#bakugou katsuki x you#dad bakugou
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Best in the Worst Way, Part 13
The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?
Okay, this took way way too long to write. A couple of things. A) language warning. B) I’m not a doctor. C) I hope I tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged! I tried! Lmk if not! D) I am a total knob with technology and I don’t know how to comment on my own posts without using my main account, so I’m not ignoring you I swear!
Just a couple more chapters, do you think they’re having girls or boys (or both)?
Bucky stood in the doorway of your bedroom, a bemused look across his face. His eyebrow twitched upward to say, are you okay with this?
Four weeks ago, the answer would have been a hard no. But you were four weeks into a strict bed rest. Steve spent the mornings at the compound and Bucky spent the mornings with you, and then they switched in the afternoons. You spent most of your time reading or learning to crochet, poorly. You were completely bored out of your mind.
So, you cracked a smile and shrugged a shoulder to let him know you weren’t 100% pleased with the situation.
Bucky’s mouth twitched into a slight smile, “Looks great, Steve.”
Steve looked up from where he sat at the end of the bed, painting your toenails. “You’re doing the other foot, this is a lot harder than it looks.”
You groaned, “How are you still on the first foot?” It had only been forty minutes.
Bucky laughed, “Let me get dinner started, okay? You two have fun.”
Your heart gave a small lurch. Bucky wasn’t okay. Not after your trip to the hospital.
He blamed himself.
You looked over at Steve, who had his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth he was concentrating so hard on your pinky toe. You kicked him in the chest with your other foot.
He blinked in surprise, “What was that for?”
You gave him an exasperated look, “Go talk to him.”
Steve looked down at your foot again, “Babe, he’s fine?”
You kicked him again. Harder. “He still blames himself for what happened, dumbass.”
It was no one’s fault really. If anyone was to blame it was your biology. But Steve had yelled at Bucky about the sex, blamed him for the bleeding, on the way to the hospital. Dr Lawrence had said the sex hadn’t caused it but nothing had been the same since. Bucky hadn’t slept in the same room as either of you since. He came in to check on you and Steve. He cracked jokes, made dinner, but kept his distance.
He was beating himself up for this and you weren’t going to take it anymore.
When Steve didn’t answer, you started to heave yourself up, “If you won’t go talk to him, I will.”
“No, no,” Steve put his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to sit. “I will okay. I’m sorry.”
An hour later, Bucky and Steve came in carrying food. Steve handed you a plate and settled in beside you, Bucky seemed to be hesitant to join. He stood beside the bed, ringing his hands nervously.
Your heart gave a little lurch, he did a really good job at making himself look small.
You opened your arm up to him, “Come sit with me, baby.”
He seemed to rock back and forth on his heels, “Every time I want to touch you, my head screams at me that you’re going to start bleeding again.”
You looked over at Steve, who hung his head slightly. He knew this and you’d beat his ass for it later.
“I’m okay, baby, I swear,” you lied through your fucking teeth. “Come sit with me, please.”
Bucky sat at the edge of the bed, not touching you. This would be a start tomorrow he would scoot an inch closer. In three days you’d be hip to hip. In a week he’d kiss your forehead. It would be okay.
But for now, you started with, “So can someone tell me something interesting please? Facebook can only keep me so entertained.”
———
Four Weeks Ago
Dr Laurence was wearing heels. At four am.
It was such an odd detail, but it was the first thing you noticed when you got to the hospital. You didn’t even make it to the compound. The hospital was closer.
Steve carried you into the ER, yelling frantically for help. You were placed on a gurney, and Dr Laurence was at your side a moment later. She was speaking quickly, but you weren’t sure what she way saying. She looked to Bucky and Steve for answers. She was putting gloves on, reaching for the ultrasound.
You were looking at her shoes. Valentino nude pumps, you’d seen them online two days ago and laughed at the price.
You were barely aware that the ultrasound probe had entered you.
Bucky was petting your hair.
You just stared at her shoes.
The moment you looked away, you would have to start to cope with Steve screaming at Bucky the whole way here. The way your sheets were stained with blood at home. The fact you had a house showing in the morning, and you were going to miss it. The fact you had a million unopened boxes of baby things in your apartment.
Your head just screamed the moment you looked away from Dr Laurence’s shoes, she would tell you your babies were dead.
Your ears rang.
Yesterday, they’d been so active. You were cursing their movements begging for a moment of reprieve. You’d do anything for a small kick right now.
“Y/n!” Dr Laurence looked up at you from between your legs.
You lifted your head from the bed, you tried to speak but no words came out.
She motioned at the ultrasound, “It looks like placenta previa. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but I’m going to get you a transfusion. We’re just looking for a heartbeat now...”
You frowned, placenta previa, that was something you’d read about. That was a normal risk, something that could happen to anyone. And the babies...
The familiar sound of their heartbeats filled your ears.
It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
That was it. The flood gates opened and you started to sob. Steve wrapped his arms around you first. Bucky was next, he embraced the two of you, kissing your forehead gently.
Their words filled your ears, setting a blanket of comfort over you.
“They’re okay, you’re okay.”
“It’ll be okay, you’ve got this.”
“Breathe, just breathe for now.”
“We love you so, so much.”
———
“Okay, we cannot be this unorganized, guys seriously?” You pinched the bridge of your nose.
Busy and Steve stood at the end of the bed, their arms crossed over their chest. You sat in bed, your hair in the messiest of buns, looking down at the mess they’d brought you to sort through.
“Well what do you propose?” Steve asked.
“For starters,” You motioned at the mountain of baby clothes in front of you, “Why do we have eight different outfits that were brining to the hospital. There’s two babies.” You held up two fingers for emphasis.
Bucky scratched his head, “This mommy blog said you need two outfits, in case one of them doesn’t fit. Plus, we don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl.”
“They should look cute when coming home,” Steve asserted.
You only blinked. If someone had said this would be your life one year ago, you would have died laughing.
“Okay, fine,” you grabbed the nearest shirt. “We could go gender neutral, you know that right?”
It’s not like you had any shortage of gendered clothing though either. Tony had loaded you up with boy clothing, swearing you would be having two. Natasha had done the same for girl clothing. And Steve had managed to pick out the most extravagant outfits from each section.
“We can,” Steve conceded. “But I want us to have options. See what they look like when they come out.”
Your nose crinkled. You fucking hated that. Come out. Like they would just slide out of you, no issues.
You rubbed your temples, “Okay, but I refuse to have my kids dress matchy matchy their entire lives. They can if they want, but I will never make them wear the same outfit.”
Bucky chuckled, coming to sit on the bed beside you, “That’s going to go over well.”
You glared at him as he completely destroyed your pile of folded baby clothes.
Steve ran his hand through his hair aggressively, “But they’d look so cute.”
You shook your head, “Only if they want to. They need to have their own personalities.”
Steve looked ready to lose his mind, “But...pictures.”
You levelled him with your mom look. You’d been practicing. “I’ll give you Christmas cards. If the two of you also dress matchy matchy if we have a boys.”
“Deal,” Steve didn’t even hesitate.
You could picture it now. Two little boys in dorky ugly Christmas sweaters and beige khakis, their hair spiked up and Steve and Bucky marching to a tee. Oh it would be glorious, but you realized a moment too late you had forgotten yourself in that picture.
You cleared your throat, “Okay, names.”
Bucky reached over, rubbing his hand over where the babies were most active. A slight smile played on his lips as he leaned over to brush his lips over your bare skin.
You tried your best to ignore the shiver of pleasure that went down your spine.
“I don’t care,” Bucky murmured, “I think we should see what they look like when they come out.”
“No,” you ran your hand through his hair. “We pick now or at least get some options.”
Steve came to sit on your other side, disrupting the rest of your pile. You rolled your eyes, so much for nothing.
“Poppy?” He suggested.
You shook your head, “I like Penelope, not Poppy. I don’t believe in naming a kid a nickname. It feels final.”
They both looked at you funny, but you stood by it.
“What about Carter,” you suggested.
“No!” Both boys said in unison. You stopped, thinking about why that name wouldn’t work before bursting out laughing.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Steve!” You reached over to stroke his face. “Not Carter.”
He chuckled, “It’s not a bag suggestion. I’d love to honour Peggy, but Sharron might think I named them after her.”
You burst out laughing. What an awkward situation that would be. One you’d pay to see.
“Okay, guys,” you snapped your fingers a couple of times, “We need a couple more names. Some more ideas. Let’s go.”
The name started flowing, and you started feeling more comfortable. Aaron, Grace, Henry, Bonnie, Andrew, Katherine.
You relaxed into your pillows. Your babies would have names. No matter what happened.
———
The boys stayed awake at your side while you slept.
You woke a couple of hours, having only slept for what felt like a short moment to find the two of them drinking coffee and nibbling on muffins.
“You look like shit,” you commented, stretching an arm over your head.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”
You grasped your hand to you chest in mock hurt, “Oh, burn.” You said sarcastically.
Steve chuckled, getting up to come over and kiss your forehead, “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
You stroked his beard lovingly, “I’m okay, and now I’m worried about you two. I’m fine, go home and shower and sleep. Please.”
Steve pressed another kiss to your forehead before moving to sit down beside Bucky, “Not gonna happen, baby.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not going to have the babies today. You’re useless to me tired. Go home. Please.”
Bucky shook his head, “We’ll take turns, how about that?”
You rolled your eyes, “You two need to talk and go get me some stuff. Please, let me worry about you two right now instead of myself. Just for a moment. It would make me feel better if you just got some rest at home.”
It took some more convincing, but they finally left. And you were left in peaceful silence. You looked down at your belly. One of the babies gave a swift kick. You smoothed over the spot gently, “I love you, please stay in there a while longer, okay?”
“We’re going to do everything in our power to do so,” Dr Laurence stood in the door way.
You smiled, “I can’t thank you enough for being here last night.”
She nodded, coming to sit on the stool by your bed. She didn’t look happy. You braced a hand protectively over your belly.
She tapped her tablet with a manicured nail, “I’m concerned.”
“Okay...?”
“I’m not going to be gentle. Your blood pressure is through the roof,” she clarified. “You’re at risk for preeclampsia, your labs suggest that this half of your pregnancy is going to be hard. You’re in for a world of hurt. And I don’t think delivery is going to be any easier. I don’t think a vaginal delivery will be an option. You will be on bed rest until you give birth, and I doubt you’ll make it to thirty five weeks. In all honestly, I’ll be impressed if you make it to thirty. But your medical history and labs also suggests a c-section is also not a good option.”
You let out a little laugh, leaning back against the headboard. “The last time I saw you, you were singing praises for how well things were going.”
Her mouth tightened into a thin line, “I also said you should be taking it easy and lowering your stress levels.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, “Are you suggesting I did something wrong?”
Dr Laurence raked a hand through her hair, “I’m not saying you did, but I’m saying we need to start taking this seriously now because I’m not sure how to get the three of you through a safe delivery.”
Your mouth went dry. ‘The three of you,’ had always been you, Bucky, and Steve. It took on a whole new meaning when it was in reference to you and your children.
You may not have lost them last night, but you were well on your way.
“You’ll be on strict bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy,” Dr Laurences’ voice softened. “The good news is, the bleeding has stopped and you’ll be able to go home soon for a couple of weeks at least. We’ll do everything we can to get your blood pressure under control.”
Your hands shook as you reached up to wipe away a tear. “Not of a word of this to the boys.”
Her eyesbrows rose to her hairline, “They need to know so they can take care of you.”
You shook your head, “I have one who is a stiffling mother hen. If he’s worked up, so am I. And the other one is recovering from a major head trauma. He doesn’t remember everything in the last eighteen months. The only thing I can do for him now is to help him get back to where he was.”
“No,” Dr Laurence shook her head. “You need to take this seriously now or you will not make it through delivery. If they think you’re fine and brush it off as a little blood, you will end up in a much worse situation.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. “We’re not going to play this game, doctor. I will take this seriously and if you put me on bed rest, I will follow it. I just don’t want the risks exposed to my boyfriends. And, you do get to tell them without my consent.”
Dr Laurence looked like she was ready to throw her tablet. “Fine, but the moment things start going south, you will end up in hospital supervised bed rest.”
You glared right back at her, “Looking forward to it.”
————
You sat between your boys watching TV when it happened.
You paused, your food halfway to your face as you felt another tightening in your stomach. They had been happening all day, but all of the sudden you were aware of one thing, it was far too painful for it not to be a contraction.
You dropped your fork onto the duvet.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked jumping to his feet.
You quirked your head to the side, looking down at your belly, “I think I’m in labour.”
“Shit!” Steve was suddenly gone.
Bucky calmly took your plate and fork and put them on the side table, “You sure?”
“Mmhmmm,” you hummed, as you let out a long breath. “We probably have hours to go though.”
Bucky nodded, “Let me call Dr Laurence.”
Your mouth tightened. She was the last person you wanted to see. You especially didn’t want to hear her gloat that she was right, you’d only made it to thirty-two weeks. Damn her.
Steve’s head popped in the room, “But it’s too early!” And he was gone again.
Your eyebrows rose to your hair line, he was taking this as well as you expected.
On your other side, Bucky put his phone to his chest and said, “Dr Laurence wants you to come in right away.”
You pinched your nose, “I don’t want to labour for the next twelve hours there when I can do it from home.”
Bucky relayed that information to her. And then asked, “Has your water broken?”
You shook your head.
Steve walked through the bedroom, going into the bathroom, talking a mile a minute. “—and we don’t have enough nipple cream!” Was all you caught. You could hear drawers being rummaged through in the bathroom.
“She says to come in anyways,” Bucky relayed to you. “And she says you’re clearly not taking this seriously.”
You rolled your eyes, of course she did.
“And we need another bathroom,” Steve murmured as he walked out of the room again.
“Fine,” you snapped. “And go calm Steve down.”
Another contraction hit hard. Your breath hitched.
Your birth plan, if you were having a vaginal delivery, was to go all natural, but now you were thinking an epidural sounded wonderful.
“You okay?” Bucky rubbed your back.
You took deep breaths, but nodded weakly. “Let’s go, please.”
He nodded, leaving the room to get Steve and your bags, but Steve stood at the door, bags in hand and simply said, “We need to go, guys.”
Bucky came around the bed to help you up. His arms around you, you barely made it out the bedroom before you felt a rush of fluids.
“Well, fuck.” Bucky mumbled.
Tags
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#bucky barnes#steve x pregnant!reader#bucky x steve x reader#steve x reader#stucky x pregnant!reader#stucky x reader#stucky#bucky x pregnant!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader
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Looking for a Place to Happen 5
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.
This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely
Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down
💀💀💀
It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.
Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.
Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.
“Is that man coming back?” she asked.
You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”
“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”
You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.
“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.
“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.
“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”
“Nan,” you gasped at her language.
“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”
You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.
“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”
“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”
“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”
“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.
“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.
“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”
“And what happened to him?”
It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.
“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”
You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.
“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.
“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”
You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.
💀
Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.
He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.
“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”
“I’m working,” you said quietly.
“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.
“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.
“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”
You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.
The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.
“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”
“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.
“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”
He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.
“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”
You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.
“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”
You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.
“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”
You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.
“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”
You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.
You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.
He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.
“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”
He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.
“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.
“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.
You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?
“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”
You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.
“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”
You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.
You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.
You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.
“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”
You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.
“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.
You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.
“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”
You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.
“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.
“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”
“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.
You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.
You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.
“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”
You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.
“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”
You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.
He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.
He caught your shoulder and held you down.
“Again,” he ordered.
You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.
“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.
He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt.
“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.
You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.
He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.
“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.
You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.
“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”
“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”
His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder.
He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.
He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder.
Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.
He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.
“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”
He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.
“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”
#sam wilson#dark sam wilson#dark!sam wilson#sam wilson x reader#fic#series#sequel#dark fic#dark!fic#birch#looking for a place to happen#biker au#biker!au#biker boys of birch#marvel#mcu#au#falcon#captain america#avengers#tfatws
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By Any Other Name: Chapter Seven
Summary: You and Rex have a conversation on the rooftop.
Chapter Rating: Teen
Warnings: Alcohol, some drunk-ness. Sad, so very sad.
Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Female!Reader, Clone OC x Female!Reader, other ships tbd.
Tags: #ByAnyOtherName, #BAON
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: *insert that Always Sunny in Philadelphia Meme: “NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE, REX HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH READER THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME* As always, bless @fat-zygerrian for being my beta reader!
Comment if you want to be tagged! Reblogs are SO appreciated!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
You were supposed to meet him that night.
You’d planned on going to 79’s instead of the rooftop as usual. Rose said the boys had missed you and wanted to play cards again. You’d gotten all dolled up and were about to head out when your comm beeped.
“Hey,” You grinned, shutting your apartment door behind you. “I was just heading out.”
“Yeah… about that,” Rose sounded embarrassed. “There’s been a change in plans. I won’t be able to make it. In fact, none of us will. We got – err – held up on base.”
“Really?” You asked, pausing as you started to head down to the main level of your building. “Okay… well can we meet after?”
“I’m not supposed to go off base but – yeah, yeah I’ll see what I can do. Keep your comm close.”
He hung up and you hesitated in the stairwell for a beat. Fuck it. Even if Rose couldn’t come along, you were still going to have a nice time tonight!
You had gotten more confident about going to 79’s ever since you and Rose had gotten close. You could recognize a few distinct faces now, just from people Rose had pointed out to you or introduced to you in passing. There was a notable absence of 501st blue, which at least confirmed Rose wasn’t just ditching you and had in fact gotten held up at the base with the rest of his battalion.
You approached the bar, settling in and glancing around to look for any familiar faces to keep you company while you waited for Rose. Further down the bar, you spotted Marshal Commander Cody and your breath hitched for just a moment. Rose had told you all about him – the most highly decorated clone soldier in the entire Republic Army. You would’ve been able to guess it even if Rose hadn’t told you about the curved scar on the side of his face. For the way Cody carried himself, even here, held an air of authority, of gravitas and poise.
He was talking to someone, the other person obscured by his own body. You ordered a drink, trying not to look as starstruck by the Commander as you felt.
“I’d try your luck with someone a little less ranked if I were you,” The bartender teased, catching you staring. “I’ve never once seen the Marshal Commander take up an offer to go home with somebody.”
“That’s – that isn’t my intention.” You blushed, taking the drink with a short huff. Still, you glanced at Cody again and watched him clap his hand on the shoulder of the man he’d been speaking with.
“Alright, see you around, Rex ‘ole boy. Stay out of trouble.”
Now that made you turn instantly. As Cody moved away, you were able to get a better look at the man he’d been talking to, and gods above, it was him. It was Captain Rex. Rose had told you so many stories about him that it felt strange finally seeing him in the flesh.
Rose had warned you about how much trouble you both could get in if anyone ever found out you were seeing each other. Your friendship was frowned upon enough as is, but now that it had become something more, Rose had given you the full dressing-down on what could happen to him if you were ever caught.
As such, you hadn’t ever met Rose’s superior officer, and since Rose wasn’t here…
You downed the rest of your drink quickly. There’s no reason the Captain would be suspicious of you. Besides, you wanted to meet him, get to know the man who was such a huge part of Rose’s life.
You wanted to meet his family.
“Hi.”
In truth, maybe your introduction could’ve been a little stronger. But as you sidled over to the Captain and leaned one hand on the bar, he gave you a small smile, nodding once.
“Ma’am.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Rex seemed surprised and looked you over carefully. He seemed to be waging a war with himself for a split second but eventually nodded.
“I don’t see why not.”
You grinned, settling into the seat beside him and waving the bartender over, tucking a hand under your chin. “What’s your name? I’m Y/N.”
“Rex.” He replied, offering his hand to shake. You repressed the urge to giggle. He was such a gentleman.
“What do you drink, Rex?”
He chuckled. “Whiskey.”
“Two of those, then.” You told the bartender. Rex’s eyebrow jumped up but you barely noticed.
“So. You must be a Captain, right? With all this fancy gear?” You said, motioning to his pauldron and kama.
“How d’you know I’m not just some ARC trooper who likes showing off?” Rex replied, smirking and leaning forward a bit.
“I’ve met an ARC trooper or two, and you don’t seem the type to boast.”
Rex chuckled again, taking his glass as the bartender returned. “You must get around, then.”
It wasn’t an insult and you didn’t take it as such. “Maybe I’m just good at making friends.”
Rex smiled and his eyes seemed to appraise you for a moment, taking all of you in, calculating. He took a swig.
“You here with any of those friends?” He asked.
“All alone, tonight.” You replied. “My friends got held up and you looked lonely. Thought I’d keep you company. It’s the least I can do for a soldier like you.”
Rex chuckled, low and sweet. “Most pretty girls don’t just find themselves in 79’s.” Rex drawled, setting his glass down again. “From what I can tell, they’re usually looking for trouble.”
He turned slightly to face you better. “Are you looking for trouble, mesh’la?”
Your heart skipped a beat. You knew that word, but didn’t know what it meant. Rose had called you that before.
“It looks like I already found it.” You replied.
Rex grinned. “Then I guess you better stay close so I can keep a proper eye on you.”
You chuckled, picking up your own drink and finally taking a sip. The whiskey burned your throat but it warmed you to the core. Rex looked impressed which was its own bonus.
“You never answered my question.” You said. “Are you a Captain?”
“I command the 501st attack battalion.” Rex said, a note of pride in his voice.
“Ah, then you must know Echo and Fives.” You prompted.
Rex seemed to age ten years at just the mention of their names. “I take it those are the ARC troopers you’ve met?” He asked. “My condolences.”
You giggled. “We played cards a few times. They’re nice but definitely a handful.”
“They’re all a handful.” Rex waved over the bartender to get another drink. “Every last one of them. That’s why none of them were allowed off base tonight.”
“Oh?” You grinned. “Do tell.”
Once he got going talking about his men, he couldn’t stop. Rex regaled you with the story of how earlier that afternoon he’d discovered his men were not only hiding a loth cat in the barracks, but it had given birth. They had managed to keep it a secret for weeks until the kittens started wreaking havoc. According to his men, Fives and Hardcase had been the ringleaders.
“That’s what they all say at least.” Rex amended. “’Course, Fives’ll take credit for just about anything. But Rose and Echo were suspiciously quiet the whole time. Kix was the only one with the good sense not to show his face in the barracks when I caught them. Still, I’ve got a feeling he encouraged the others to go along with it. Di’kuts, all of them.”
He shook his head but smiled as you laughed. “Anyway. They’re cleaning up the mess and finding natborns to rehome all the kits with. And when they finish with that, they’re supposed to take over the latrine shifts and canteen shifts for any other battalions.”
“Aw, seems a steep punishment for hiding loth cats.” You laughed.
“You didn’t see the state of the barracks.” Rex said, shaking his head slowly. “Apparently a bucket of paint got upended. They should all be scrubbing paw prints out of the durasteel right about now.”
You smiled fondly at Rex. Even as he retold the story, you could tell he was trying not to smile at the antics. It was clear he cared very deeply for his men, even if he had to be the tired parent of them all.
“Sounds like they wear you out.” You teased. “You deserve a break.”
“Are you offering me one?” Rex prompted.
You tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean?”
Rex smirked, and downed the rest of his drink. He took a deep breath, as though he was steeling himself to ask you something.
“Y/N!”
You recognized the voice and turned quickly as Rose hurried up to you. He had a small streak of blue paint across his cheek, but otherwise was beaming.
“Hey, you should’ve told me you’d be here. I went all the way to your apartment and had to backtrack -.”
He noticed the Captain a beat too late and you watched as all the color comically drained from his face. “Captain! Sir!” He snapped to attention. “I ah – I can explain…”
You glanced between Rose and Rex, your own heart pounding. Rose had all but given away the two of you were seeing each other. Rex looked at Rose before looking at you. He then turned to his glass, picking it up and making a big scene of looking it over.
“Sir…?” Rose asked nervously.
“Oh, I’m just inspecting my beverage.” Rex replied smoothly. “I must’ve been drugged you see, because surely I am not seeing my Lieutenant standing here, not when he is under strict orders to stay on base tonight.”
Rose cringed. “Yeah, sir, about that -.”
“It’s my fault.” You spoke up quickly, throwing together a lie. “Rose and I met yesterday, we’d been playing Sabacc with some of his brothers and he very kindly walked me home afterwards. I promised him drinks tonight to thank him and I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” You glanced to Rose. “He was just being a gentleman.”
Rex raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rose. “Funny.” He said. “Could’ve sworn I saw you in the weight room with Fives last night.”
“We… came here afterwards sir.” Rose lied, shifting a little closer to you, almost protective. “Ask him, he’ll say the same thing.”
“I’m sure he will.” Rex stood, picking his helmet up off the counter and knocked his knuckles lightly against the bar. “It was lovely to meet you, ma’am.” He said. “Rose?”
Your soldier stood at attention once again but Rex just put a hand on his shoulder.
“We have a briefing tomorrow morning. Oh-eight-hundred. Don’t be late.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rose was barely audible over the roar of the music in the bar. He looked like his knees would give out at any moment.
You could’ve sworn you saw Rex give Rose a little wink, but it must’ve been a trick of the light. He gave you one last nod before quietly departing.
Neither you nor Rose saw him glance back at you over his shoulder one last time before stepping out of the bar.
~
You’d lost track of how long you sat on the roof with Rex. Partially because he’d gone downstairs and returned with a bottle of your favorite whiskey and two glasses, pouring drinks for you both.
“For Rose,” Rex toasted, clinking your glasses together.
You smiled and for the first time that you could remember, Rose’s name didn’t make your heart ache. “For Rose.”
You both tossed the glasses back, that familiar burn searing your throat and chest before you shook yourself out, watching as Rex poured you both a second glass, entirely unfazed.
“He was very unsubtle about sneaking off base to go see you.” Rex told you, leaning back on one hand and closing his eyes as the breeze kissed his cheeks. “I’d give him a job and it would either be done in record time or it would’ve been passed off to somebody else. He once almost missed a debriefing because he’d spent the night with you. Skidded in right as I was about to start.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mind. He was happy. Gods know we soldiers deserve whatever happiness we can find.”
You hummed, smiling as you took another drink. “He talked about you all the time.” You said, leaning slightly against Rex’s side. “Idolized you, actually. He told me about the battles you’d been in together, how well you led your men.” You smiled to yourself, finishing your second drink and making your way towards a third. “He told me about that virus. Blue Shadow Virus, right?”
Rex hummed, getting himself another drink as well. “That was an ugly mission.”
“He said you were hovering a lot.” You teased. “Because he was always so sick when he was little. You were worried about him.”
“Brothers were dropping dead, left and right. Hells, even Commander Tano passed out at one point.” Rex recalled, shuddering to himself. “I thought we were all going to die.”
“He told me he wasn’t scared because you weren’t scared.” You smiled. “I guess you did a good job of hiding it.”
“He had way too many close calls.” Rex chuckled. “That virus almost took him out. We got rescued just in time. There was another time he was scouting with me and a few others on Saleucami -.”
“I remember that. You were shot.” You recalled and Rex chuckled.
“He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”
“He was terrified. He told me he thought you were dead, the way you flew off the back of the speeder after getting hit..” You murmured.
“What he probably didn’t tell you is that shot just barely missed him.” Rex replied. “I’d been leading but he’d circled around me to get in front. He was goofing around with Hardcase. Bolt whizzed just an inch past his head and hit me instead. He had a blaster burn on the side of his helmet to prove it.”
You shuddered at the thought. “He didn’t tell me that part.”
“Probably also didn’t tell you that he got shot pretty good on Toydaria.” Rex replied. “Not once, but twice, once in the leg and another straight through the chest. Kix thought for sure he was a goner.”
You were familiar with those wounds. A frown pulled your lips. “He didn’t tell me. I had to find them myself.” You grumbled, still bitter. “He’d come back from the mission and told me he’d gotten hurt, but it was nothing serious.” You threw back your drink again. “Bantha shit, if I brushed against him, he winced. Finally made him show me.”
“I’m sure he got an earful after that.” Rex laughed.
“Oh, he did. And he wasn’t even that bothered that he’d nearly died, no, he was more concerned about the fact that his tattoos had been damaged by the shots. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get new ink over the scars.” You rolled your eyes. “That man…”
“He was just trying not to worry you.” Rex smiled, taking another drink.
“I always worry.” You murmured, rubbing your thumb along the rim of your glass. “Always. About all of you. I always worried that one day Rose would come home and tell me something had happened to Fives, Echo, you… or any of the others.” You chuckled humorlessly, finishing your drink. “And then… one day you showed up at my door instead.”
A heavy silence fell between you. Rex took your empty glass, filling it up once again.
“It seems so silly.” You said. “That he should survive all of that and then just get shot and killed during a routine supply drop. I thought he was unbreakable.” You shook your head. “Guess I was wrong.”
Rex wouldn’t look you in the eye, instead focusing very intently on the glass in his hands.
“It was quick.” Rex said finally, still avoiding your eyes. “He didn’t feel anything. I promise.”
“I know.” You gave him a small, sad smile, squeezing his bicep gently. “And I guess I have that at least. At least… at least I know he didn’t suffer. He wasn’t alone or – or afraid.”
You smiled wistfully, looking out over the skyline.
“There’s a dress in my closet,” You began. “It’s nothing fancy, just a white sundress with lace around the hem and sleeves.”
Rex already seemed to know where this was going. He took a very long drink and followed your gaze out towards the skyline.
“We were going to leave together.” You said quietly. “Get married. Have a family. He had this whole, crazy plan.” You chuckled. “I’d told him I wanted to think about it. It was a big decision, he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, hiding from the Republic. And I’d be part of that.”
You glanced over at Rex. “He told me he was going to tell you. He said we could trust you. Did he ever…?”
Rex shook his head. “No. He never got the chance.”
You nodded, turning back towards the sky. “I was going to say yes.” You whispered. “I was going to go with him when he came back. We were going to run away together… It was all very romantic.” You shook your head, staring down at your glass. “And it was so stupid.”
Rex was quiet for several long moments until finally he rose to his feet, offering you his hand.
“C’mon.” he murmured. “I think that’s enough drinking for one night. Let’s get you home.”
You nodded, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. You swayed. You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you stumbled, falling slightly against his chest.
“The Rose Lounge owner can’t hold her liquor?” Rex teased. “Ironic.”
“Shuddup.” You mumbled, giving him a little shove. “I can walk.”
“Oh no you can’t, Tipsy. C’mere.” He crouched down slightly, and you slumped against his back. He picked you up with ease, bouncing you once to hike you higher up his back. He wrapped his arms around your legs, holding them snug against his torso while your hands wrapped around his shoulders.
“Don’t puke on me.” Rex warned, carrying you piggyback style towards the stairs.
“’M gonna fall off.” You muttered.
“No you won’t. Trust me.”
Your eyes were heavy, cheek pressed against the back of Rex’s neck and you remembered a time very long ago when another man had carried you on his back to this rooftop, and said the very same thing.
“I trust you, Rose.”
Rex was still. You hadn’t noticed your slip, your eyes already slipping closed.
“Okay.” His voice echoed. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
~
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