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munsonhoneybaby · 2 years

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Harrington's Party | Eddie Munson X F!Reader

Summary: You seek Eddie out to buy weed at a party only to realize you'd accidentally spent your $20 earlier.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, kinda naive/bimbo!reader, drug dealing (marijuana), smut, oral/facefucking (m receiving), cum swapping, little bit of cock worship, slightest bit of degradation, praise kink, fingering, steve hears you guys literally fucking in his bed

A/N: this went so different than i expected it to in so many ways

“Eddie Munson, just the guy I was looking to find!”

The voice calling his name pulled his attention from the solo cup he was filling with punch, which was definitely more alcohol than punch. Turning around, he was surprised to find you with an eager look in your eyes. Your voice edged towards a shout so he could hear you over the music and conversations surrounding you. “I need to talk to you, come with me.” Holding onto his sleeve, you led him through the crowd and up a flight of stairs. It wasn't until you reached a quiet hallway that led to Steve's bedroom that he could finally speak.

As your hand met the doorknob, he lightly tugged his wrist from your grasp and held up a hand with a small laugh. “Alright, as much as I don’t wanna question the pretty girl dragging me into a bedroom at someone’s party– you’ve never gone out of your way to talk to me before. Are you trying to buy or something?”

“Ding ding ding,” You sang, opening the door, flipping on the light, and ushering him inside. “I wanted to buy weed, heard you’re the guy to ask.”

“I am if you want good product for a good price,” He shrugged, and then the only sound was the muffled thumping of the music downstairs while he took in his surroundings. There were framed photos of Steve and his friends and his family and you. Basketball trophies lined a few shelves. The room was clean except for a few items of clothing strewn about. Sitting on the edge of the bed he shook his head slightly, “God, this is some crazy shit.”

“What?” You frowned slightly, kicking off your shoes and sitting beside him.

“Selling you weed in Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington’s bedroom. I thought it was weird just coming to one of his parties, but I figured I could at least make a few sales.” He gave a flourishing gesture towards you; “I was not mistaken. Although, I definitely didn’t expect you to be one of them.”

You laid back on the bed. “Oh, I guess I’m just used to it at this point– being in Steve’s room, not buying drugs in it. It’s not a big deal though, he’s really kind of a dork.”

Eddie’s eyes raked over your bare legs distractedly, the hem of your dress settled just above mid-thigh and the material fitting just right to your body. “So, you’re in Harrington’s bed a lot, huh? I didn’t know you two were…”

He watched you toy with the necklace you were wearing, rambling every time your mouth opened. “Oh, no, we’re not together or anything. I mean, we’ve hooked up a few times but we’re just good friends, y’know?”

No, honestly, he didn’t know. He’d never had a ‘good friend’ who he casually had sex with, but frankly, he’d never had a ‘good friend’ who looked like you or Steve Harrington. So, he just nodded and moved on. “How much were you looking to buy?”

“How much could I get for a twenty? That’s all I’ve got right now.”

“That’ll get you half an ounce,” He answered as he leaned down to grab the black tin lunchbox he carried around.

“Sweet.” Grabbing your purse, you rustled through it for your wallet which you popped open. You frowned when the twenty-dollar bill you knew had been in there was nowhere to be found. Then it hit you, your palm meeting your forehead with a muted smack. “Fuck! I gave Steve my twenty to get the kegs!”

Eddie heaved a falsely exasperated sigh but his expression was politely amused. “I’m always one to bargain, but I can’t just go around givin' away something for nothing, can I?" Prepared to leave, he pushed off the bed and stood up. "No big deal, I guess you’ll have to find me some other time.”

Whining, you kneeled at the edge of the bed so you could reach far enough to grab his wrist and stop him. “Eddie, no, wait! I really wanna smoke tonight, please? And I swore I’d bring stuff to this sleepover I’m having with some friends tomorrow, I need it!”

If someone had told him this morning that he’d wind up in Steve Harrington’s bedroom at a party with you begging on your knees before him, he’d have laughed in their face. “I feel for you, sweetheart, I really do. But I’m kinda running a business and, as cute as that little pouty lip you’ve got goin’ is, I can’t go doing favors for any pretty girl who bats her eyes at me.”

“What if I did more than bat my eyes?” You shifted to hold his hand in both of yours, urging him slightly closer as you looked up at him coyly.

He let out a small, surprised laugh. “Not that your offer isn’t tempting, but I don’t normally do deals like that. Besides, you, me, and the rest of the student body all know you wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.” The expression you took on almost looked offended, although he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“If the offer’s tempting then take it, Munson. You said you’re always one to bargain, right?” One of your hands moved from his arm to the front of his shirt, fiddling with the fabric and looking up at him. “I’ll make sure to give you your money’s worth, I promise.”

His voice was a tad shaky as he watched your hand and its movements like a hawk, “I don’t doubt that. I just uh- just don’t wanna take advantage of you, you know?”

You practically giggled, fingers bypassing his t-shirt and nails scratching lightly through the trail of hair you found leading into his jeans. “You’re not takin’ advantage of me, silly, I'm offering! I get weed and you get to cum, it’s a win-win situation!” Just the feeling of your hands on his bare skin had him distracted enough to delay his response, though he’d opened his mouth to do so. What you thought was hesitation on his face had you drawing your hands back and looking down at your lap in extreme embarrassment. You’d gotten ahead of yourself. “U-Unless you don’t want me to– which is obviously okay of course, I mean I-I’m definitely not your type and that’s totally fair, I’m really sorry, I’m sure there’s somebody else here I can get stuff from–”

Eddie was quick to cut you off, grabbing your hands and sitting beside you as he uttered your name. His voice sounded serious but his eyes held humor when you looked into them. He was shocked to find yours welling with tears; though, to your credit, none spilled over. “I’ve been hard since I saw you were taking me to a bedroom. Trust me, sweetheart, it doesn’t take a business proposal for me to want you. But I don’t want you to think I’m expecting it from you or something, okay? We both know how people talk about you and you don’t deserve that, I don’t think those things about you.”

“You don’t think I’m a s-slut?”

He couldn’t decide if the little sniffle that followed your words broke his heart or melted it. “Of course not, I-I think you’re…excitable…and emotional and guys take advantage of that.”

Although you’d been hurt or made insecure by the way people treated you, you’d never considered it as ‘taking advantage’ before. He was right; you were an eager and highly strung person, so it wasn’t all that surprising that when a guy showed interest in you, you were happy to make them happy. You’d put out, they’d disappoint you by leaving after, and you’d get over it. But people talk and in a small public high school, ‘eager’ equates to ‘easy’ and ‘easy’ sparks a reputation.

Nobody really seemed to understand that, at least they never specifically acknowledged it, until now. Until Eddie. Your gaze was full of surprise and what looked like admiration as you looked at him, nodding rapidly. “Yeah, th-they do!”

Despite your reputation, you were generally well-liked by most people at Hawkins High. Even with your status as one of the ‘popular’ students, you’d always been polite to those who were less socially fortunate than you, including Eddie and his friends. It made him develop a sort of soft spot for you, especially as he had a few conversations with you over time and realized how genuinely sweet and sensitive you were. He could only ask to copy your notes or borrow a pencil so many times though.

Leaning your head against his shoulder, you wrapped both your arms around one of his. “Y’know, I’m going back on my word here–” He drawled, “But if you swear to pay me back within the next few days, I can give you the weed tonight. Just don't tell anyone, 'cause then everybody'll think they deserve free shit.”

“Oh, Eddie, I can’t do that! You can’t just give it to me!”

Chuckling, he playfully patted your head. “Kind of you to be so concerned, honey, but I can survive a couple days twenty dollars short.” Still, you toyed with his rings with one hand while the other nervously moved to squeeze at his thigh. “Sweetheart, really, you don’t have to do that.”

“But…I-I want to…” You admit somewhat abashedly. Even sitting down, Eddie felt like his knees went weak. It was incomprehensible how your eyes managed to look so innocent, even as you told him, “I wanna suck your cock, Eddie. Can I? Pretty please?” God, he could’ve come in his pants then and there.

“Jesus, there’s no way in hell you’re actually asking to blow me right now,” He muttered incredulously. Your fingers grazed the hardness in his jeans and he blew out a sharp breath. “You seriously want it? Fuck, can you say it again?”

Pouting, you tugged at his hand and scooted even closer to him, “Pleeease?” You bit down on your lip and excitedly palmed at his length. “I wanna make you feel good, Eddie. Can I?”

He had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. “Shit okay, honey. Uh–” Dragging a hand down his face, he did his best to regain his composure within half a second while you were already dropping to your knees in front of him. Instantly going for his belt buckle, you refrained from commenting on the handcuff design.

As he watched you, he forcefully yanked off the red and black flannel he’d been wearing unbuttoned over his Hellfire shirt; you hadn’t even gotten his cock out yet and he already felt like his entire body was on fire. Although he would never admit it to you, he’d been dreaming of this since sophomore year. His hips lifted from the bed long enough for you to draw his jeans and checkered boxers down his thighs. Unrestrained, his dick twitched against his stomach, the sight making you let out a moan that only excited him further. “Stick your tongue out for me, sweetheart,” He cooed as his ringed hand began fisting his cock. Doing as he said, your eyes widened when he slapped the head against your tongue a few times. He noticed your hips rocking, seeking friction against something that wasn’t there. “Poor baby, so needy, huh? ‘S gonna be okay, don’t worry, princess.”

You guided him further into your mouth, his hand cradling the back of your head. The look in his eyes was absolutely awe-inspired; you’d think he was in love if you didn’t know any better. Taking more of him with every bob of your head, your manicured nails dragged lightly from his hips down his thighs. When your hand moved to massage his balls while your tongue stroked over the head of his cock, he whimpered and clutched tighter at your hair. He wanted to protest when the heat of your mouth left him, but your hand took over stroking his length so you could speak. “Your cock is fucking perfect, Eddie,” You sighed. Your eyes looked almost glossed over as you gazed up at him, seeming unreasonably content; touch sweeping from his happy trail to the suitably grown-out patch of hair at his base. “So pretty.”

“Think so, baby?” He grunted breathlessly. “Gotta say, I‘ve never heard that one before.” You took him by surprise then, dipping your head to lave your tongue slowly over his balls before taking one in your mouth. “Dear mother of God, you’re actually going to kill me.”

Admittedly completely cockdrunk by this point, your voice was an airy hum coming from wet, swollen lips. “Can’t help it, you taste s’good. Want you to fuck my throat, Eddie, please? Wanna make you come.”

“You’re a fucking dream, you know that, sweetheart?” He cupped your jaw, thumb soothingly rubbing your cheek. “Go on, open wide for me, hm? Good girl.” Breathing deeply through your nose, you tried your best to relax your throat as he eased his way into it. “Fucking shit, baby, that’s amazing. Taking me so well.” Hand carefully wrapped around your neck, he could feel the way he filled your throat. “Pinch my thigh if it’s too much and I’ll stop, promise.”

Starting off slowly, he used his grip on your hair to control the movements of your head. Soon, though, the sloppy, depraved sounds of you sucking him off had his hips rutting forward desperately. His palms cradled your face as he fucked into your mouth, grunts and curses rolling off his tongue every other breath. Drool leaked from the corners of your mouth, soaking his cock and dripping down your chin. Tears spilled down your cheeks in mascara-tainted tracks that he continually wiped away with his thumbs. He’d be concerned if it weren’t for your garbled moans and the way you still tried hopelessly to grind down against the carpet.

“Look how fuckin’ messy you are, princess. Look so pretty. So good, so fucking good oh my god. Gotta tell me where to come.” When he attempted to pull out to let you speak, you just braced your hands against the back of his thighs to keep him from doing so. “Mmm, wanna taste it, baby? M’kay, I’ll give it to you. Fill up that filthy mouth.” His shirt lifted as your hands wandered beneath it to graze up and down his sides. The thrusts of his hips stuttered as he finished, pulling out afterward to stroke his cock into your open mouth a few times.

Before you managed to swallow, he was pulling you to his lap and slamming his lips to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. It was the filthiest kiss you’d ever experienced, some of his come sneaking from your mouths to smear against both his chin and yours. Long and debauched, it left you both panting for air, heavy breaths being the only sound as you both wiped your mouths and met each other’s eyes. Becoming aware of the feeling of your underwear, drenched and clinging to you uncomfortably, you look down embarrassedly.

Eddie’s finger hooks beneath your chin, returning your gaze to him. “You okay, sweetheart? Was I too much?”

“No, no,” You shook your head quickly. “No, I-I liked it. I liked all of it, don’t worry.”

“O-kayyy,” He drawled playfully, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs. “What’s the problem then, huh? What’s got you all shy?”

“I just… I r-really liked it…”

He did his best to suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh yeah? Did lettin’ me fuck that sweet mouth of yours get you all worked up?” You nodded sheepishly and he flashed you a pretty smile. “That’s okay, baby. You know–” His teeth grazed your ear, making you shudder pleasantly as his voice dropped to a whisper, “You’ve still got me pretty worked up, too.” And you could feel the proof that that statement was true, hot and hard against your inner thigh even after coming just minutes ago.

“Eddie…?” You began hesitantly. “Will- Can you fuck me…please? I-I know I was just supposed to get weed, but I want you so bad ‘n you’re still hard so I thought maybe you’d wanna, but–” As usual, you got more flustered as you spoke, a nervous whine slowly creeping into your tone.

“Hey, I'm gonna take care'a you, honey.” His thumb stroked the apex of your thigh before teasing the edge of your underwear, humming delightedly at what he found. “You did really like it, huh? Your panties are totally ruined, baby.” The hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed down your neck had your jaw going slack and your hips rocking absentmindedly towards his hand. “Poor baby, so horny you don’t even know what to do with yourself. You always get so wet, or is this just for me?”

Your head was supported by his hand as it lolled to the side, giving him plenty of room to suck bruises into your sensitive skin. “Jus’ you, Eddie,” You insisted.

The hum he gave in response sounded indifferent, he simply pulled back and traced a thumb over the marks he’d left, surveying them with a satisfied smile. You giggled out a quiet ‘what’re you doing?’ and he said, “Admiring my masterpiece.”

Your body warmed at the thought. “Masterpiece, huh?” His masterpiece.

“Oh yeah, princess. Total work-of-art, magnum-opus type shit. It’d make a real pretty picture if I had a camera.” You had yet to come up with a response when he pushed two fingers past the lace of your underwear to slide through your wet folds, quickly finding your clit. He circled it a few times before easing his middle finger into you. The cries you let out had him adding a second shortly after. “I’m just making a big ol’ mess of you tonight, aren’t I? Covered in spit and cum and hickeys and I haven’t even been inside you yet, honey. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

And he was right. Without even fucking you, he’d already ruined every other man for you. “Please, don’t wanna wait anymore. Jus’ hurry up, need to feel you.”

Wiping his hand off on his jeans briefly, he smeared your slick across the denim. “Shhh, relax. I’m going to, don’t worry. Let’s get you outta this dress first though, ‘kay?” You didn’t hesitate to push the straps from your shoulders, shivering at the way Eddie’s fingers danced along your spine as he unzipped it. As soon as the zipper reached its end, you were yanking the garment off, chest almost level with his face from your arms raising over your head. Finding you braless, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples before your dress had even hit the floor. You moaned, winding your fingers into his hair as he mouthed hungrily at your chest. “Fuck, such gorgeous tits. Should’a let me fuck these instead of your mouth.”

“Next time, Eddie.” You whined impatiently, lifting his shirt until he aided you by pulling it over his head himself.

With a smug expression, he mused, “So there’s gonna be a next time?”

“Only if you want, but there has to be a first time for there to be a next time so please–”

Your words came out in a rush and he interrupted you with a laugh. “Alright, alright, let me get my fuckin’ pants the rest of the way off.” You climbed off his lap so he could completely undress. The flawless view he got of your ass while you crawled towards the nightstand had him biting back a groan. Watching you open the drawer, however, reminded him that not only were you doing this in Steve Harrington’s bed, but you knew where his condoms were.

Of course, he had no right to feel possessive, so he held his tongue and laid back on the bed. Palming your ass with one hand, he took the condom from you with the other. A finger hooked around your lacy thong, dragging the sullied material down your legs until he could toss it on the floor. “C’mere, baby.” The contented smile on your face was endearing and sweet, even as you straddled him and leaned down until your bare chests were pressed together. His hands soothed along your back and sides as you kissed lazily for a moment, you toying with a strand of his hair. As soon as you pulled away, you heard the foil of the condom wrapper being torn open behind you, knuckles and rings brushing your skin as he rolled it on. “You sure you want me?”

“Need you, Eddie.”

He quickly rolled the two of you, his now-frizzy curls falling around your face as he hovered over you. “Just wanted to hear it one more time, sweetheart.” Your nails dug into his back as he teased your opening with the head of his cock, but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned down to kiss you again as he slowly filled you and you could feel the guitar pick that always hung from his neck pressing into your skin. The rasp of his voice when he spoke had you trembling beneath him. “Pussy feels so fuckin’ good, baby. All wet and tight for me.”

“You’re so big,” You whined, arms and legs around him to keep him close. “It’s so good.”

“Yeah? You like this dick, baby?”

“Mmhm,” You prattled only semi-coherently, “Best dick ‘ve ever had– want more.”

The tilt of his hips changed, forcing him even deeper inside of you. “God, princess, you sure know how to stroke a guy’s ego.” Every thrust had you whimpering, the sounds of his skin meeting yours filling the room. “Hear how wet you are? Cunt’s just suckin’ me back in. Can’t get enough, huh? Takin’ it so well, sweetheart. Makin’ such a mess.”

A sudden banging on the door made you jump, Eddie’s arms drawing you closer to his chest protectively. Until Steve Harrington shouted your name from the other side. “SERIOUSLY, IN MY ROOM? YOU BETTER NOT BE IN THERE RUINING MY BED WITH SOME NASTY FUCKING FRAT BOY!”

You wanted to respond, call back an apology maybe, but when you opened your mouth Eddie gave you a deep, forceful thrust that had you squealing instead. Steve grumbled something and you could all but see him rolling his eyes and shaking his head before he evidently went back to the party.

“Just wait til he finds out who you’ve really got back here,” Eddie purred against your ear. “You think Steve’d rather you have a frat boy in here, hm? ‘Stead of the drug dealing loser making you drip all over his expensive comforter.” Calloused fingertips circled your clit, making you clench around him in a way that had him choking out a few profanities. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of weed, sweat, and faded cologne. “No, no, no, don’t hide from me. Lemme see that pretty face, baby.” He grasped a handful of your hair, yanking just hard enough to make you yelp as you looked up at him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You confessed meekly. Although you had come with a few other guys before, you’d always assisted them pretty heavily in getting you there. But Eddie? He was effortlessly reducing you to a quivering mess under him. You’d always been intrigued by him from a distance, but his demeanor had you aching for him the second you were alone with him. Now, he was giving you the greatest orgasm you’d ever had. You were starting to think the rest of Hawkins was right when they called him a freak.

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?” He crooned, sounding mockingly doting. “I bet it does. ‘S not too much, is it? You can take it, right?”

Your words were coming out faster than you could form them as you nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, please keep going, I can take it! Please, please don’t stop!”

His lips brushed yours, “Shhh, I’m not gonna stop. It’s okay, I wanna feel you come for me.”

The way you held each other was far too intimate for what the situation was. Your legs were hitched around his hips, one arm around his neck while the opposite hand pressed between his shoulder blades. The fingers previously rubbing your clit were now firmly gripping your ass, letting him grind into you, filling you to the brim. That patch of hair above his cock kept up the friction on your clit in the most perfectly overstimulating way. Your moans were already constant and incoherent as it was, but when he pressed down on your lower stomach you let out a full-blown sob of pleasure. “I know, honey, just let it go. You can do it.”

With his arms tight around you, your body arched into his and you let out a breathless cry of his name. Once again, you looked up at him with an amazement that he couldn’t understand; but, fuck, if it didn’t make him feel like he was on top of the world. You looked at him in a way that nobody else ever really had before, and maybe his imagination was over-embellishing it but he didn’t care, he was already filling the condom. It was his turn to bury his face in your shoulder as he groaned and slowly ground into you until he was too overstimulated to continue– not that that took long considering it was already his second time coming.

You both laid there for a moment, Eddie panting into your shoulder while you coiled one of his curls around your finger. When he slowly pulled out, you whimpered quietly and squeezed your legs together to fight the empty sensation. He had to fight back a laugh when he tied off the condom and threw it away in Steve’s trashcan. You watched him tug on his boxers before sitting beside you, apprehensively running his hand down your bare back. He wasn’t sure how far he was allowed to take this; he’d had one-night-stands before, but those hadn’t felt like this. He couldn’t just leave you there alone though.

His fears were assuaged when you curled into his lap, nuzzling your head against his thigh with a satisfied-sounding sigh. Still, he soothed his thumb across your cheek, looking down at you. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?”

“Mmhm,” You smiled, sitting up to settle yourself completely in his lap. Your arms draped loosely around his shoulders as you leaned into his chest, “‘M really good, Eddie.” He just took you in for a moment: the blissed out look on your face, your ruined makeup, the hickeys lining your neck, the mess still between your legs. Abruptly, you groaned, making his gaze move back to your face in concern. “I don’t wanna put my dress back on,” You complained.

“Well, unless you plan on sticking around to see Steve’s reaction to the stain you left on his bed–” He teased, “We should probably get dressed and get outta here.”

“Together…?”

“Right, uh- one of us can leave a few minutes before the other if you want, I didn’t know if you were worried people might–”

“I want you to take me home, Eddie,” You interrupted with a pout as you fiddled with his necklace.

“Done.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x f! reader #eddie munson x f!reader smut #my fics #18+ mdni

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f1nalboys · 1 year

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Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.”

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much.

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.”

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod.

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog.

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind.

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.”

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad.

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over.

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.”

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop.

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it.

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop.

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you.

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you.

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more.

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him.

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you.

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside.

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did.

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.”

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt.

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again.

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock.

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care.

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #slashers #slasher fic #scream fic

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elizabethwritesmen · 2 years

Text

Notice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Self deprecation, Body image issues, Self hatred, Angst, Slow burn, Mutual pining and smut to come in later chapters

Summary: Reader is at a bar with her friends and it seems that all of them are being hit on except her, which is usual. She falls into a fit of self moping when a strange man pulls her out of it.

Word Count: 3,011

AN: This will be a series, but the amount of chapters is undecided thus far. It depends on where the story takes me.

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

Every man in the bar seemed to be fixated on the two girls that commanded it, hanging onto their every word and whim as if they were goddesses to be worshipped. Y/N watched as Evelyn and Ashley made their way around, downing drink after drink, none of which they had to pay for. She scoffed, staring down at her 5 dollar beer and silently wishing she had chosen to stay home.

It's not that she didn't like going out. On the contrary, she loved it. Getting dressed up and hanging out with her two best friends in the world was a fantastic break from her soul crushing job, and it was a great boost to her confidence to wear something as provocative as the lacy bodysuit and leather skirt she had chosen. Or so she thought, but now she looked at her clothing with hatred, not for the fabric but for what lay underneath it.

Maybe if she were skinny like Evelyn, a man would approach her. Maybe if she were pretty like Ashley, a man would buy her a drink. Maybe if she weren't worthless, someone would pay her attention, attention that she needed desperately. One of the strangest phenomenons she had ever experienced had to be becoming invisible. But she was. In a room full of men, nobody ever notices the fat girl. Her words fall on deaf ears, and nobody seeks her company without a motive. You'd think she would have grown accustomed to it, but still, her silly little heart hoped and wished and begged that every time they went out would be her time. Her moment. Her night. The night she finally was... well, noticed. Validated. The night she finally got the attention she needed. But the night would never come, this she knew, and she let the despair sink in as she drowned her sorrows in cheap alcohol.

Across the bar sat two men. One tall, hair nicely trimmed, eyes as green as emeralds shining in the sun. The other even taller, hair shaggy and sandy brown, the kind of man who obviously took care of himself.

"Dean," the taller one turned to the other, "I'm surprised you're not all over those girls. Every other man in here seems to be."

"Pshhhh," Dean scoffed, "Come on, Sammy. You know the first rule to picking up women - the ones that everyone wants are never worth it. Besides, I'd rather not have to deal with either of them. One has enough bleach in her hair to turn her brain white, and the other is just annoying. I can hear her laugh from over here, she sounds like a witch cackling."

"So much for your plan to hook up with someone tonight," Sam laughed.

"I don't have to hook up to have a good time, you know. And besides, I've been studyin'."

"Studying what?"

"That girl over there. She came with the bimbos, but... she's not like them. She almost seems sad."

"She's probably just trying to scare off random men like you, Dean. Nobody approaches a sad girl at a bar. I'll bet she knows that."

"I think I should go talk to her. You know, make sure she's okay."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Go for it, but Dean, if she is sad, don't make it worse."

"Never, Sammy," Dean winked, sauntering over to the table where Y/N sat alone. He was almost nervous to talk to her, she wasn't his usual type. He was into the bimbo persuasion, not the devastatingly beautiful persuasion. He couldn't believe his luck that every man in the bar wasn't all over her. Thank God for her friends, distracting them all so he could have a shot.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "You okay, sweetheart?"

Y/N looked up from her beer for the first time in minutes, searching for the source of the deep voice that had just rattled her bones. Her eyes landed on Dean, and she had to take a moment because, damn, he was absolutely breath taking.

"If you want me to help you get with my friends, sorry but I can't. They're into who they're into, my word has nothing to do with that."

"Who, them?" Dean scoffed, gesturing to the girls in question. Y/N's eyes averted as her heartache worsened.

"You should just go talk to them," she sighed, "I really can't help you."

"But I don't want to talk to them. I wanna talk to you."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, her brows furrowed with utter disbelief. Was this a joke? He had to be joking,

"What?"

"Well, I didn't walk all the way over here for my health. Let me buy you a drink."

"Why?"

He sighed, wondering why she was so stubborn and guarded. Wondering if it was worth it to keep trying.

With one look into her eyes, he decided that it was. In fact, he would try anything to make this pretty girl pay him attention.

"You're the prettiest thing this bar has ever seen. I'd be a fool if I didn't at least try to talk to you, sweetheart."

There it was again. The pet name. Only this time it surrounded her, cradling her in its arms and easing the pain.

She turned away from him once again, peeling the label off of her beer, her nails and cuticles red from her anxiously biting them. She knew he would get sick of her after a moment or two and walk away. She knew he was just talking to her out of some weird need to be a good person. You know, talk to the fat ugly friend and win some brownie points with God, or whatever.

Sensing her inner turmoil, he spoke, "I'm not asking you to go home with me, or to marry me or anything like that. I just wanna buy you one beer and maybe have a conversation, see where this thing goes."

"I don't believe you," she huffed.

"Well, I don't know how to change your mind but I'm gonna start by ordering you another one. I'll be right back."

He walked to the bar and her eyes followed him the entire way.

Really, why was he talking to her? I mean, he couldn't actually be interested in her. He couldn't actually want to have a conversation with her, right? And what happens if she does humor him and have a conversation? He'll walk out the double doors and she'll never see or hear from him again. It was the way of her world. People either ignored her or left her. It was all she knew, and it was what she deserved.

"Here you go, sweetheart," he snapped her out of her trance once again and placed a freshly opened bottle in front of her. She almost immediately commenced to peeling the label off. "Do you have a name?"

"It's Y/N."

"Pretty. It suits you. I'm Dean, and that giant of a man over there glaring at us is my brother Sam. He's probably a little bored."

"Should you go back to him?" she asked, sure that he would take the bait and take his leave.

"Only if you go over there with me," he smirked, "I'm sure he'd like to meet you, and hanging with us would be way more fun than hanging out here at this table alone, watching your friends have a good time."

She thought it over for a moment. Really, it couldn't be any worse than the hell she was already putting herself through. And, well, as much as she didn't want to admit it, the attention Dean was giving her was seeping into her bones, becoming a part of her. She could feel herself becoming needy for more, whatever he was willing to give her.

They walked over to Sam's booth and slid into the side opposite him.

"Sammy, this is Y/N, and our goal tonight is to get her to have an actual conversation instead of just avoiding questions and looking away."

Sam chuckled, "He comes on strong, doesn't he?"

She nodded, a small smile gracing her features, and Dean reeled. It was the first time he had seen her smile at all, and it was marvelous. If he thought she was beautiful before, it was nothing compared to this.

Fuck.

"So, Y/N, whereabouts are you from?" Dean asked.

"Well, here, really. I grew up a few towns away. What about you guys?"

"We're from a little bit of everywhere, but we're living in Kansas right now."

"Oh, so you guys are just passing through?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. We'll be here for another night or two then we'll be headed back home."

"I see," she nodded along with what they were saying, but her insides felt like they were being crushed. She had known him leaving was imminent, but damn. The sting was potent. This man had noticed her. He had seen her in a room where she was invisible. And he actually heard her voice, and cared what she had to say. And he was leaving. To her, this was heartbreaking, no matter how much she anticipated it.

"But, you know, we make our way around a lot, so we'll be back. We never stay in one place for long," Sam chimed in, sensing the awkwardness rising.

"I'm gonna go to the restroom. I'll be right back, guys. Don't go back to Kansas while I'm gone," she joked, standing up and walking to the dark corner of the bar in which the restrooms were nestled.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" Sam asked him.

"What do you mean?" the older brother asked, eyebrow quirking up.

"Aren't you just trying to sleep with her? Why did you bring her over here?"

"Well... I was, but now, now I just wanna talk to her. Get to know her. I have a feeling men don't do that enough."

"I've never once known you to just want conversation with a woman."

"Well, I guess hell is frozen over," Dean shrugged.

"Don't go caring about this girl, Dean. We both know we're just passing through, and you have the potential to really hurt her here."

"I'm not! It's just, well, Sammy, you met her. There's something about her, she's not like her friends, she seems genuine. And come on, you saw her, she's the hottest girl in here."

"She is a pretty girl, and she does seem sweet, I just want you to be careful. She doesn't deserve to get hurt by you, she's better off lonely."

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror, tears smudging her mascara.

"He doesn't matter. You don't need him. You don't need anyone. All you've ever had is yourself, that's not gonna change just because some man gave you his time," she scolded herself. She was embarrassed at the heat he made rush to her cheeks, at the smile that he caused, at the way her heart beat a little faster when he looked at her. She knew who she was, and she knew she was meant to be alone. Some people just aren't made to be happy. Some people are made to make other people happy, and she knew she was one of them. She couldn't let herself feel the pent up emotions. She couldn't risk actually caring. That, for her, would be suicide.

She took a deep breath and fixed her makeup, walking back to the table. She didn't sit down, though.

"I think it's best if I go back to my table," she sighed, bouncing from one foot to the other in anticipation.

Dean's confusion was evident, "Why, sweetheart? We were just getting started talking to you and now you disappear on us?"

"I just think I'm better off over there," she shrugged, and began walking away. But a gentle hand on her wrist stopped her, and she turned around.

"Please," he looked her in the eyes, his voice gravel but heavenly on her ears, "Don't go. I want you here. Sammy wants you here. Let us cheer you up."

The words she had said to herself in the bathroom began fading away and she could feel herself giving in. She glanced to Sam to see if he did, in fact, want her there, and it didn't go unnoticed by him.

"You should sit down, Y/N. We've all got beer, time, and stories to tell," the younger brother sent her an encouraging smile. Suddenly, her negative affirmations were gone completely, and replaced with hope. She wanted to let herself have this. She just wasn't sure how.

She took her previous seat, clearing her throat lightly and staring at her beer, peeling the label off once again. Dean saw this and took it out of her hands, removing her distraction from him.

"Drink it, sweetheart, don't deconstruct it."

"Nervous habit," she sighed, grabbing it back from him and placing it far enough away that she couldn't fiddle with it comfortably.

"So is biting your nails, but I see you do that, too," he pointed out.

A wave of burning embarrassment flooded through her, scarring her cheeks red. "I can't help it, please don't make fun of it," she said meekly, her voice barely higher than a whisper.

"Oh, I'm not making fun of you, I do it, too. See?" he smirked, holding his hand out for her to see that he was telling the truth.

"We should probably both stop," she remarked, and Sam snorted.

"Getting Dean to stop anything is just about impossible," he explained, and Dean shot him a glare.

"I'm not that stubborn, Sammy," Dean rolled his eyes, and Y/N stifled a giggle as she watched the brother bicker.

The conversation flowed between the three of them like a river, and, for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N felt seen. And heard. Like she had a voice. Her heart was swelling with the overflow of attention from the boys, and she was almost awestruck at how well she got along with both of them, and how nice they were to her.

Similarly, the boys were in awe of Y/N. She was so shy initially, seemingly insecure, but once she was comfortable with them, she became this beautiful personality, a kind they had never seen before. She was smart but kind, bold but tactful, funny but down to earth. She was the kind of person that made them feel like the work they did was worth it. Even Sam had completely warmed up to her after an hour of aimless conversation, and he couldn't help but notice the way Dean was looking at her.

"I'm gonna head back to the motel, but you guys should stay, drink some more, keep talking," he informed, standing up from his seat and stretching.

"Oh no, Sammy, you can't leave now," Y/N all but whined, staring up at him, her eyes wide with a vulnerability she hadn't shown when she first talked to them, "We haven't even finished deciding which one of the guys in here my friends are gonna go home with!"

"My money is on Evelyn going home with too-tight-shorts guy, and Ashley going home with too-much-hair-gel guy," he chuckled as he grabbed the keys to the impala, "Dean, can she give you a ride back?"

"Yes," she responded for the younger brother, "I can." She then stood up and walked over to the moose like man, reaching up to give him a hug. "It was so nice to meet you, Sam. Take care."

"Yeah, you too," he smiled, hugging her back and bidding his farewell.

Part of her was elated to be alone with Dean, but another part of her was extremely nervous. He had played it cool in front of Sam, but what if it was all an act? And she couldn't fight the sadness she felt deep down over Sam's departure. She had developed a camaraderie with him, the kind that she didn't have with the girls. The friendship she found in Sam wasn't superficial at all, and there was no inclination that he was talking to her out of pity, or worse, to boost his own self esteem. He had hung onto her every word and offered plenty of his own, engaged in the conversation like he had known her forever. Like a brother would be. She could tell why his relationship with Dean was so close knit. And now she would likely never see him again, which, for her, was a greek tragedy.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Dean drawled, taking a sip of his beer, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to lick the rim of the bottle. She quickly snapped her eyes away, but he noticed the way they trailed the movement.

"I am, it's just... I hate that you guys are just passing through."

"I hate it too," he sighed, "More now than ever."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" she smirked, turning in her seat to face him and throwing back her own bottle. A drop of her beer slipped down her cheek, then her chin, then continued its trail all the way down to her breasts, hardly concealed by her top. Dean pulled the same move that she had, shyly averting his eyes.

"Because I've never met a girl like you, sweetheart, and I don't know if I ever will again."

Her eyes met his in a flash of emotions, and the emerald reflected what she was feeling.

"Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?" he asked suddenly.

"Dean," she sighed, "I don't want to hook up, if that's what you're getting at."

"I don't want to either. You... you deserve better than that. I just wanna talk, somewhere that doesn't smell like cheap beer and bad decisions."

She looked for any sign that he was lying, and found none, so she grabbed her purse and stood up.

"Well, what are you waiting for? We've got a walk to go on."

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #spn x reader #spn fanfic #spn smut

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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years

Text

The Half of It

Pairing: Gerri Fields x Reader

Word count: ~ 5.5k

Warnings: catfishing (kind of), crushing on a straight girl… y’know, the basics

Request: Hello there! Not sure if you take requests but there’s a movie titled the half of it and I thought it would be a great fanfic idea for a lizzie (or any of her characters) x reader (if you’re not busy of course)

Author’s note: Alright, I cut this in two parts ‘cause it needed a lot of editing and I wanted to post it soon. Thank you anon who sent the request, I loved writing this, I hope you like it. Stay tuned for part two.

Taglist: @b0mbdotc0m

Part 1 - Part 2

The ancient Greeks believed the human body was once formed by 4 legs, 4 arms and a head with two faces. They were complete. So complete that the Gods, fearing their wholeness would not require a need for worship, separated them in two, leaving our split selves to wander the Earth in misery, forever longing for their other half. It was believed that when one half meets the other, there’s a harmony, a moment of no greater joy.

Of course, the ancient Greeks never went to high school, or realized they don’t need the Gods to mess things up for them.

Perhaps humans spend too much time looking for someone to complete them. How many people find true love? And if they do, make it last?

All the more evidence to support Camus theory that life is irrational… meaningless.

And that, my friends, is an A plus is philosophy. You thought to yourself as you discreetly passed around the papers during quire class, your phone chiming with notifications from money sent by Tori, Steve, Coraline, or whoever had paid you to write their essays this time.

Mr. Fields, completely oblivious to your secret scheme, stood in front of the class, explaining something about the talent show which you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to. Soon enough everyone was standing, per the professor's request, following along to some music sheet he had handed.

You sat by the piano, following along with the rest of the band, although completely lost on what you were, in fact, supposed to do.

There were at least half a dozen seniors singing, and yet you couldn’t help but only pay attention to her. Gerri Fields. The girl dating the hottest, most popular guy in school. The girl who always had her nose buried in some book. The girl with the most angelic voice you’ve heard.

Maybe it was all in your head, but she overpowered the whole room. Her voice completely filling the space.

Unfortunately the moment was short and soon the bell rang. Since quire was your last period, you now found yourself biking back home. The ride was boring, as much as it was every single day. You appreciated the nature surrounding you, the peace and quiet, seemingly alone, or so you thought. You were pushed to the floor, being completely broken from your daze.

“What is your problem?” You said while picking yourself and your bike up.

“Sorry- I’m sorry- I just…” the boy trailed off and you noticed he had a paper in hand.

“Ten dollars for three pages, twenty for three to ten.” He looked at you nervously.

“I’m not trying to cheat.” He simply stated.

“Then what’s that?”

“A letter.” He handed it to you and you quickly opened it.

“Who even writes letters these days?” You read the name on the top, Gerri Fields.

“I thought it’d be romantic.” You folded the paper back, looking at him with disbelief.

“Dude, I’m not writing for Ger- some girl.”

“Why not?”

“Letters are supposed to be authentic not-”

“That’d be great,” he interrupted you.

“No,” this boy must be stupider than you thought, “I cannot be you being authentic,” your patience was starting to wear thin “look, get a dictionary, read some poetry, and good luck Romeo.”

“I can pay more for authentic.” You heard him scream, but you were already far ahead.

Back home, you took the interaction off of your mind and focused on your studies in the living room, while your dad watched a movie. Your concentration was broken by the lights flickering, you knew he hadn’t paid the bill, so you made a mental note to call the company first thing the next day.

And that’s exactly what you did. You rang them first thing in the morning and was put on hold. While you biked to school, during class, while you practiced piano alone in the band room, at least two times in which you had to avoid the boy in the corridor... throughout all that you were on hold.

You were so concentrated that you bumped into someone on your way to class, all your stuff falling to the floor. You leaned down to pick’em up when a pair of shoes came into view.

“These hallways are murder,” you looked up to find none other than Gerri Fields.

Her brown hair tied into a bun, a few loose strands framing her face perfectly. Her body dressed with the characteristic boho-chic clothes, and somehow her green eyes out shined all that color.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you muttered when you noticed you were staring.

“I know,” she responded while picking up your stuff, “you’ve been playing my dad’s services for years now. You’re his favourite, he hates mediocre accompanists,” you couldn’t think straight when her eyes met yours.

She handed your stuff, while you just remained completely silent, and walked away. You just stared, the hallways now empty due to the bell just ringing.

You were brought back to reality by the voice on the phone.

“Miss Y/L/N, your bill is three months overdue, we will need a minimum payment of fifty dollars by tomorrow or we’ll be forced to terminate your power.” Your mind was empty with ideas of how to solve this.

On cue, the boy from yesterday, who was running down the hallway, stopped by you, looking expectant.

“Fifty dollars. One letter. After that, you’re on your own,” your face was one of pure annoyance.

He raised his hand in celebration, but you just turned and walked the other, him following suit.

Dear Gerri Fields, I think you’re really beautiful. Even if you were ugly, I’d wanna know you, because you’re smart and nice, too. It’s hard to find all those things in one girl, but even if you were only two of those things, I’d be into it. But you’re, like, all three, just to be clear.

You were shocked, to say the least. The fact that normal teenagers wouldn’t write essays such as yours was not news to you, but this letter, this was something else.

About me: Some people think I’m the cutest one in my family. Those people being my grandma… who’s dead now. Nevermind my dead grandma. All I’m saying is that I like fries. I like dipping them in my milkshake. Is that weird? It’s actually really tasty. Would you like to try that with me sometime? I work part-time and I have a truck. Let me know whenever. Thanks. David Avery.

“So what you’re trying to say is-”

“I’m in love with her.” He blurted out, not giving you enough time to take that all in.

“Have you ever spoken to her?”

“I- I- I’m not good with words.” Shocking, still you pitied him as he looked at you, slightly ashamed.

“And you know you’re in love with her?” You tried to take in the whole picture of what you had gotten herself into.

“I know I think of her when I go to sleep, when I’m working at the ice cream stand, when I go to the beach, when I’m at the studio, when-” you cut off his rambling.

“That just means you’re stubborn, not that you’re in love.”

“No, it’s love. Love makes you screwy. Don’t you get screwy?”

“No.” Who gets screwy because of someone? How does that even make sense? This thing was going to be more trouble than you initially anticipated.

Your attention shifted back to the piece of paper on your hands. A pen scribbling over the words, trying to figure out how you could fix the mess that this was.

“Oh, I get it,” David said, while you mumbled random ideas, “you’ve never been in love.”

He got into your nerves. What does it matter if you’ve been in love or not? You considered getting out of this, leaving him to try his own luck, but you needed the money, so you just got up, shoving the letter onto his chest and saying,

“You want a letter about love? I’ll write you a letter about love,” and stomping away angrily.

Writing it turned out to be more of a challenge than you thought. You were again sitting in the living room, watching a french movie with your dad, struggling to get the words onto the paper.

You were close to giving up when a sentence, uttered by one of the characters on the TV, caught your attention.

“Longing… longing for a wave of love to swell up in me.” That would work.

The next morning you handed David the finished piece, sealed so he couldn’t look at what you’ve written.

Yet again you were caught by David while biking back home. Thankfully this time he didn’t throw you onto the floor, he didn’t need to since you stopped immediately when he said she’d written back. Of course you had said ‘one letter’, but you were allowed to be a little curious at her response.

He caught up with you and handed the letter.

Dear David, I like Wim Wenders too. Wouldn’a plagiarized him though. - Gerri

She was good, better than you expected.

“Who’s Wim Wenders, and why did you cheat off of him?”

You couldn’t be bothered by his confusion, completely ignoring his question, you were interested, you were hooked, you were eager to see what she would come up with next.

“This is good.” You mumbled.

“How?”

“It’s- It’s like a game. She’s challenging us. But in a good way.” And for some reason, you were willing to take that challenge.

You biked away leaving him behind like a lost puppy.

“Game on, Gerri Fields. Game on.”

Dear Gerri, okay, you got me. I sometimes hide behind other people’s words. For one thing, I know nothing about love. I’m 17. I’ve lived in Squahamish my whole life.

“Such a downer,” David finished reading the, still incomplete, second letter you wrote for him.

“Not a downer,” you retorted.

“Major downer, ask her to hang out.”

“What do you mean by ‘hanging out’?” You asked with genuine curiosity, doing everyone’s homework had kept you from having an active social life. The fact that you lived in such a small town did not help. “Like… what do you do?”

His friends interrupted the conversation before he could explain.

I hang out with my friends. I keep my head down. I’m a simple… guy. Which is to say, if I knew what love was, I would quote myself. - David

“Psst, in here,” David called from the confessionary, “she wrote back.”

The second letter had been finished and sent, and now you had another response.

Dear David, Did you know it takes 11 muscles to yawn? This is the sort of weird fact I find myself recalling to keep myself from… well, yawning. Or showing anything I feel really. So, yeah, I turn to other people’s words, too. When you’re a pretty girl, and I know it makes me sound conceited, but that’s why you’re even writing me, right? When you’re a pretty girl, people want to give you things. What they really want is to make you like them. Not like them as in ‘I like you’, but like them as in ‘I am like you’. So I’m like a lot of people, which makes me kind of no one. - Gerri

“Can I text her now?” What was up with this guy and going so fast?

“Too soon,” you quickly shut him down.

You left him inside that church, mind bubbling with ideas as to what to write next.

I never thought about the oppression of fitting in before. The good thing about being different is that no one expects you to be like them. - David

Doesn’t everyone think they’re different, but… pretty much we’re all different in the same way? - Gerri

Says the girl perched on the rarefied peak of Mt. Popularity. - David

Easy Mr. I-Know-Nothing-About-Love. I may surprise you. - Gerri

The messages became shorter, and somehow deeper. It was no longer a simple exchange of letters, it became some sort of a game, and Gerri was a damn great player. So much so that you didn’t even notice her coming into the bathroom while you washed your hands, lost on thoughts of the conversations you’ve been secretly having.

She was leaning against the wall, her hair pulled up by those bandanas she’s always using. When your eyes met, you stopped breathing for a second, nervousness prickling at your skin from the prospect of getting caught on the scheme you had with David.

But she just smiled, and you could’ve stayed there, looking at her for hours. Unfortunately the other girls chatting in the bathroom, oblivious to both your presences, scared her away when the topic of her boyfriend came up.

You could sense how hurt she was by those words, how they talked her down by talking him up. It was the first time you’ve seen first hand how this universe that she was trapped in could suck sometimes. All you wished was to punch their faces. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

What’s surprising is: people don’t see what they’re not looking for. - David

The obvious unseen. - Gerri

You were getting too caught up by this. No longer writing people’s essays for them. To the point where even one of the teachers started to notice. It was funny how she knew everyone cheated and still preferred to cover for them over having to read what they’d actually write.

You didn’t care. You were getting the money and Gerri Fields was piquing your interest immensely. She was much more than you expected.

I’ve been thinking about what you said - about seeing and not seeing. I had a painting teacher once tell me that the difference between a good painting and a great painting is typically five strokes And they’re usually the five boldest strokes in the painting. The question, of course, is which five strokes? - Gerri

Along with the message came attached a picture of a painting. It was a challenge. Would you be able to see those five strokes?

I get it. After one’s slaved away at making a pretty good painting, the last thing you’d want to do is make a bold stroke and potentially… - David

Ruin everything. - Gerri

You spent hours analysing the painting. You had your ideas of what those strokes were, but had she seen the same thing? Or did she see it from a totally different perspective?

You tried to explain to David the strokes. How to read a painting like it was a book. Showed him the painting she’d sent. Explained what made that painting a great painting.

Sure, he didn’t understand any of it, just nodding along, which surprised you since he has interest in pictures. It was pointless, but he was still the one she was flirting with, the least you could do was to keep him alert, curious, aware of who Gerri Fields was and what he was in for.

That’s why I gave up painting. Still, I wonder if that is how I’m living my life. It’s a… pretty good life. Probably the best life one could hope for in Squahamish. - Gerri

It was time to step up your game.

Perhaps… but how well do you really know Squahamish? 41.1º24’12.2”N 2.1º10’2.65”E - David

You found a simple stroke of paint on the mural you had prepared. The coordinates you sent her led to this empty wall, a few bottles of spray paint sat at the bottom. Since you’re talking about paintings, why not make one yourselves?

Oh, so that’s your boldest stroke? - David

I’m into the slow build! What was that? - Gerri

The conversation had shifted from a paper and pen to paint and a wall. You had added some random pattern, and came back to find she had done some of her own as well. Let’s see what you can do, Gerri.

Decisiveness, but please… take all the time you need to be BOLD. - David

Is this BOLD enough for you? - Gerri

What was once a splash of light green paint was now overpowered by a golden figure in the center, specks of a darker green surrounding it. Now that’s a bit more like it.

And thus was abstract art born… - David

And transformed. - Gerri

It wasn’t just the spray paint this time. She had broughten tools of her own. The golden figure had taken the form of a woman, delicate shades forming her body and marking the roots of her hair. A star at the tip of her hand.

It was a great painting. No change needed. No more bold strokes.

Unfortunately, it was gone as soon as it came to life. A now white wall hiding what was once a great piece of art.

Or not. - Gerri

Everything beautiful is ruined eventually… Maybe that’s the thing. If you do ruin your painting, you gotta know you have everything in you to get to that pretty good painting again. - David

But if you never do the bold stroke… - Gerri

You’ll never know if you could’ve had a great painting. - David

“But when does the dating start?” Why does this boy have to be so impatient?

“This is dating.”

“No, dating is burgers and fries and shakes. And maybe another order of fries. And…”

This was a shallow way of putting it, you thought, there must be more to dating than eating fast food and talking about dead grandmas. Although you wouldn’t know, life hasn’t given you much opportunity for dating.

“... I’m gonna text her.” Your eyes went wide with those words.

“Wait, what?”

Before you reached him he had already sent out the message. Fast food emojis, tonight was spelled ‘tonite’, it was all wrong, so wrong. You watched the phone intently, waiting for a response, hoping you’d get a response.

Those three little dots appeared and disappeared, making your heart sink in your chest.

You had to think, and you had to think fast. David was getting utterly frustrated behind you and no response was coming. A thousand ideas went by your head when a specific one seemed a good enough excuse.

“Little sister hacked my phone. Can we take this to a safer platform? Ghost Messenger? My handle’s ‘Smith Corona’.” You typed frantically.

“Who’s Smith Corona?”

“Just… a guy,” you shrugged him off.

The both of you were staring anxiously at the screen when, once again, those three little dots appeared and disappeared, earning loud sighs from you. So this was it? All that for a stupid message to ruin everything? Would Gerri really give up that easily just because she now thinks David’s a moron?

The sound of an incoming message on your phone broke you out of your thoughts, raising your hopes back again. You fumbled to your bag and there it was.

‘New Ghost Message’

DiegaRivero: So… where are these fries?

“Yes!” You and David celebrated. Gerri wasn’t that easily scared off after all.

Although now you had a completely new problem. Gerri and David would go out together. On a date. Just the two of them. And you couldn’t be there to help him. The heavy feeling at the pit of your stomach was screaming at you that this wasn’t going to work.

Sparky’s Diner was the place of choice. Secluded, not that popular, nice food. A good choice. You had David on the phone while he drove.

“She prefers abstract to representational. If she brings up Remains of the Day, talk about how the movie loses out by not spending more time on the Nazis.” You explained, more to comfort yourself than to help him, you really didn’t want him to screw this all up.

“Relax. I got this.” This boy is too confident for his own good. “It’s a date, not a book report.”

He kept you on the line, his phone on speaker, but with no volume, so you could hear into their conversation while being at home. You were dreading having to listen to this.

“I got two of them signed when he came to Powell’s Books last year.” You heard her voice for the first time in a while, you assumed she was talking about Remains of the Day just like you had predicted. “I drove all night to get there.”

“Oh, uh… cool.” What an idiot.

“You’ve probably already read it. Thought you’d like one.” You were starting to pity the girl and the night she was in for.

“Uh, yeah, totally. No, I- I love, uh… Nazis.” You almost hit your head on the wall out of frustration. “I mean the- the- the ones in the book. I mean, like, more of those Nazis. Am I right?”

Silence settled for a few seconds, a pretty uncomfortable one you’d bet, before Gerri spoke again.

“Uh, speaking of Nazis, thank you for meeting me here. My dad… he isn’t a Nazi exactly, but, uh… he can be pretty strict. You know, people talk.”

“Um, yeah. Talk. Ugh.”

More silence.

“It’s nice… to make a new friend, though.” Points to Gerri for the effort, but damn was this going badly.

“A friend. Good.” He sounded disappointed but what did he expect, for her to propose or something? She has a boyfriend, and he knows it.

Silence filled the conversation more than words, David saying the stupidest things that definitely didn’t sound like what she expected of him. They didn’t sound like you. This was over and done with, but he just couldn’t accept it.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he tried to convince you the next morning while you biked.

“What about that date wasn’t bad? You have nothing in common.” You argued. “Game over!”

“I can’t give up!” He retorted.

“Look, you and Gerri Fields, not gonna happen.” You needed to get some sense into this boy’s head.

He, on the other hand, didn’t give up, following you all the way to this abandoned school bus.

“Gerri Fields thinks you’re into abstract art and repressed British literature. None of that is you.”

“It could be, I started reading that Remains of the Day book.” You were pleasantly surprised. “That’s gotta count for something.”

“There are no points for effort.” Gerri already thought highly of him, he could no longer win her over with just ‘trying’.

“Isn’t that what love is? How much effort you put into loving someone?” Is he right? You never experienced love, you wouldn’t know for sure.

“Well, whatever love is, we just blew it with Gerri Fields.”

On cue the sound a notification came from your phone, leaving the both of you shocked.

DiegaRivero: So that was… weird?

Maybe not everything was lost.

“We can do this!” David exclaimed. “I’ll pay you double,” he added when you didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to pay me,” the words were out of your mouth before you could process them.

“Don’t be weird, why else would you do this?” You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t even know why you were still doing this.

You quickly accepted the offer so he wouldn’t get suspicious and, let’s be real, some extra cash could always come in handy.

Now that the game was back on, you devised a three week plan to get David ready for the next date. You didn’t have time to teach him everything, you had to be selective, deep versus broad-based learning. Spy on Gerri and specialize David on her favourite things.

Existentialism. Sartre. Camus. Hepburn. The Philadelphia Story. Conversation Lessons. Reconnaissance. Following Gerri around the movies, the pharmacy. Kathenne. The Roman Holiday. Mapping out her boyfriend, her interests, favourite foods. Watching her family, night dinners. Soon enough the entirety of the abandoned school bus was covered with information on any and everything you could gather on Gerri Fields.

Other than quire class, Sunday services were the only moments in which you could see Gerri Fields without creepily following her around town. Her father, Mr. Fields, was in charge of the church quire as well and, as Gerri had pointed out weeks ago, you were his favourite accompanist.

DiegaRivero: Do you think Father Shanley has any idea what’s going on around him?

You received the message in the middle of one of the services, after Father Shanley, who was in fact too old, had one of his ‘moments’, which basically meant he screamed some nonsense for no reason.

SmithCorona: I think Father Shanley KNOWS ALL

Your heart ached when Gerri turned and smiled at David, sitting amongst the crowd, while you watched from your place on the piano, above everyone else. It was lonely. But the fact that her eyes were on him just made it all the more lonelier.

The training with David kept going, conversation lessons making you both closer. While playing ping pong you’d learn about your past and present, suddenly aware of how sad it is that neither of you have ever been anywhere other than Squahamish. He has his truck, but the beach and his family business keep him stuck in town, and also away from pursuing his dream of working with photography. You, on the other hand, never even thought about leaving.

DiegaRivero: So… why you always up so late?

Night had fallen upon the small city before you even noticed.

SmithCorona: World’s asleep, more room for thoughts

DiegaRivero: Hour of secrets?

SmithCorona: Something like that

DiegaRivero: So what secrets… ?

It was in moments like this that you were reminded of the fact that she wasn’t talking to you, she was talking to David. Or, at least, that’s what she thought, and that secret was killing you inside.

After one of your ping pong/conversation lessons, you caught yourself wondering what it was about Gerri Fields that was so enticing to David. He knew nothing about her before this whole scheme started, and they had nothing in common.

“What do you like about Gerri?”

“She’s pretty,” he answered with no hesitation, “and smart… and she’s never mean. And she smells like fresh-ground flour.” See, nothing in common. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“What else could I like about her?”

The question got you thinking about what it was in Gerri that enticed you so much. Why you kept up with the game. Why you were so invested on it.

“I don’t know.” So many thoughts were flooding your mind. “How her eyes look right into yours. How… she twirls her hair when she’s reading.” Images of these moments going through your head. “How her laugh busts out like she can’t help herself and she stops being so perfect for just a few moments. She has at least five different voices. How you could live in an ocean of her thoughts and… feel like she knows, like really knows-” You stopped the moment you noticed David’s expression had turned into a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

“I’m so stupid.” Your heart stopped for a second. “I’m so dumb.”

“No,” you were getting desperate, “don’t think that I-”

“What you said,” his voice was louder, “that’s what you say when you love someone.”

“No I- I was just talking,” you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or him, “I- I would never, ever actually-”

“No, it is, and- and you don’t even care,” a rush of relief took over you. “I mean, I love her and I can’t even… agh!”

He was getting frustrated. He wanted to be as good as you were with words. Poetic and… romantic. That wasn’t his thing. You felt sorry for him, you really did. So much so that you caught yourself contradicting what you’d said weeks ago to him.

“You try… harder than anyone I’ve ever met,” your voice was soft, soothing his nerves, “to show a girl that you love her. And if love isn’t the effort you put in… then… what is it?

He smiled a little, calming your own nerves. This boy was starting to grow on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

David was becoming a friend, someone you truly care about. Despite how much it killed you to flirt with Gerri for him, you wanted him to be happy. You wanted this to work.

SmithCorona: No secrets. Just a good guy… and you should be with a good guy

These late night talks weren’t particularly helpful.

Three weeks passed and that second date was long overdue. This time you wouldn’t stay too far away from him, but close and ready to come to the rescue whenever he screwed up.

“Okay,” you opened the door to his truck, “Gerri. If she brings up immigration, you’ve been talking about the recent-”

“I know.”

“When in doubt, if the name is Italian, probably an artist. If French it’s probably a-”

“Hey.” You stopped your rambling. “Thanks.” His voice softened.

“Oh…” you were surprised, he had not thanked you yet for all of this, you did not quite know how to respond, “uh, sure.”

“I’m probably gonna crash and burn, but thanks for sticking it out with me anyway.” He was nervous, it was endearing.

“Well, not like you didn’t pay me,” you tried to lighten the mood, earning a gentle scoff from the boy. “You’re not gonna crash and burn.” You reassured him while he left the truck.

You didn’t believe your own words. He was totally gonna crash and burn. But a little boost of confidence couldn’t hurt.

They were sitting at one of the window seats at Sparky’s Diner. You could see them clearly, and, by the confusion on her face and the nervousness on his, you could tell it did not start well.

The conversation was clearly taking a weird turn. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you could see none of them seemed to be enjoying the date that much. So you had an idea. You picked up your phone and typed Gerri a message.

SmithCorona: I get nervous when you’re close

She smiled at him. She bought it.

DiegaRivero: Why?

David, on the other hand, was totally confused by what was going on, and soon enough you received a message from him.

“Wut????”

“Look at your phone!” You typed back, she had to believe it was him who was texting her.

SmithCorona: …

DiegaRivero: …?

SmithCorona: …..

DiegaRivero: I’m just a girl

SmithCorona: You’re not just a girl

David was quick to interrupt, still being kept in the dark.

“WUT. ARE. YOU. SAYING???”

“STOP. LOOKING. AT. ME!!!” Why can’t he just go with it?

DiegaRivero: I’m not? Then what are you?

SmithCorona: Also… not just a girl

She giggled at the joke, and boy what you would have given to listen to it. David, still oblivious, gave her thumbs up, while she just stared him up and down, totally confused. You don’t blame her, it feels like it’s two different people because it is, and if the boy doesn’t learn better, he won’t get her ‘cause she’ll be stuck in this idea of who he is.

DiegaRivero: You’re strange, but cute

SmithCorona: You have classic bone structure

You typed, instead of sending all the things you were thinking about her just by staring at her through a window.

DiegaRivero: ...Thanks

Your mind tried to think of something, what to say next, but came out empty. While you brainstormed something that was fit for Gerri Fields, David decided to take matters into his own hands.

“I don’t wanna be just friends,” he stood up abruptly and spoke loud enough that even you could hear.

No, moron, that’s how you crash and burn. But of course David wouldn’t listen to you, your advice. Too eager, too impatient, unable to enjoy the build up. If he didn’t ruin everything before,for sure he would do it now. And you were helpless, there was nothing you could do from inside his truck at this point.

You couldn’t listen to what they were saying and it was nerve racking. His mouth moved, she just stared, and it all seemed uncomfortable and confusing, until it wasn’t. He smiled, he sat back across from her, and when she turned she was smiling too. That moron had figured it out on his own.

You were proud of him. But you were also a little sad. He was starting to walk by himself, soon enough he would not need you anymore. And yet you were enjoying this little game. You were enjoying these interactions with Gerri, even if she didn’t know it was really you she was talking to.

That was the deal when you signed up for this. You flirt, you put in the work, and David ends up with the girl. Why you ever thought it would happen differently is beyond you.

So, reluctantly, you left his truck. You left them alone. David could carry himself from here on out. There was no point in being there anymore.

And yet, you wanted to be there so bad.

#gerri fields #gerri fields x reader #gerri fields imagine #very good girls #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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pradaksj · 4 years

Text

Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored (m.)

♤ pairing: jungkook/reader

♤ genre: 1920′s au, burlesque/clubsinger!reader, infidelity au , angst, smut.

♤ rating: mature

♤ word count: 17,000+

♤ warnings: infidelity/affair [plays a big role in story so please do not read if the topic makes you feel uncomfortable, hint: y/n is not the one getting cheated on LOL], A LOT of angst lol the smut is just an add on to the story basically, explicit language, cigar smoking, degradation, pet names, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (2), dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, sub!reader, teasing dom!jungkook, slight dry humping, mirror sex, fingering, hair pulling, cockwarming, marking, edging, nipple/breast worship, pussy eating, spanking, light choking, possession kink.

♤ summary: Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image had of you in their head. Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman.

━ ❝ You got me some type of way, ain’t used to feelin’ this way. I do not know what to say, but I know I shouldn’t think about it. Took one fuckin’ look at your face, now I wanna know how you taste… You can say I’m hatin’ if you want to, but I only hate on her 'cause I want you. .❞

♤ thank u next series masterlist

♤ author’s note: i got the idea to make this story 20’s themed after rewatching 2 Chainz ft Ariana Grande’s which you can watch ☞ here, while the storyline itself is loosely inspired by her song break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored. You can also reference this video ☞ here to see what I reference in terms of style when I say burlesque dancer and what y/n and her coworkers encapsulate because I personally hate the flapper era style LOL, i’m more of a hollywood glam person, so finding this video was a godsend.

Also fun fact, the Hollywood sign was originally built reading “Hollywoodland” in 1923, which is why it’s referred to as that in this story, it wasn’t until 1949 that “land” was removed. and because i’m setting this story in the mid to late 1920’s, Hollywood is barely establishing its reputation as the land of dreams and heartbreak & alcohol was illegal in the 20’s which is why i refer to Joon’s job as “illegal” lol .

comment, send an anon, like, reblog, and most importantly enjoy! 🤍

“She’s the girl of your dreams, the sugar to your spice, give a warm welcome to Miss Lola de Ville,” Al’s voice booms across the club. Peeping your head out the curtains, you try your best not to be seen as you scan the audience, until finally you spot what you’re looking for. Immediately you feel your heart skip a beat.

Quickly giddying your way back to Mina’s dressing room, you could feel the anticipation and joy bubbling in your stomach, “He’s here tonight,” you sing, leaning against her door frame, watching her as she did her makeup.

She’s quick to roll her eyes, “Oh when isn’t he,” she says, fixing her lipstick, “he sure does awfully love your performances it seems,” a blush appears on your cheeks, “Is she with him tonight?” she queries, you quietly nod your head no. “And what song are you performing tonight little miss Y/N?” she asks, changing the topic once she sees your face of uncomfort.

Immediately your eyes light up, “Al’s been playing these songs by some man named Louis Armstrong on the record player all week, and oh how I love his voice, and the lyrics he sings!” you gush.

“Oh tell me about it, he’s going to have to buy himself another vinyl if he keeps playing it the amount of times he does already, it’ll be all scratched up by the end of the week,” she pessimistically says, causing you to shrug. It wasn’t like Al didn’t have the money to buy as many as he’d like, this club of his was bringing him bank.

“God am I ready to go home,” she complains, taking off the shiny silver ring on her left ring finger and placing it in its case, as men didn’t like giving tips to a woman with a ring on stage.

“How’s the wedding planning going along?” you ask, Mina lets out a dramatic sigh in response.

“Oh you know Joon, he doesn’t like the whole planning aspect of it, so most of it has been in my hands,” she chuckles, “but I know he’s excited, he’s just as much of a romantic as me.”

Namjoon, Mina’s long time fiancé, was not only the illegal bartender of the club you two worked in, but a long time friend of yours, the two of you going back long before he had ever met Mina. In fact it was he who got you this job to begin with, something you’d forever be in his debt for.

Namjoon of course didn’t mind that Mina had to take off her ring because he not only trusted, but respected Mina’s job. Honestly it would’ve been hypocritical for him to be anything but supportive, considering he met her here when he first started working at the club a couple of years ago. At the end of the day he was secure about his relationship, and the person she was coming home to after a night of performing was him and only him.

“Y/N what are you doing here, you go on in five!” a voice interrupts, you turn to see Al with his hands on his hips in a dramatized fashion.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be out there right now,” you gulp, grabbing some perfume from Mina’s desk and quickly spritzing it on yourself., “How do I look?” you ask.

“You look good as always,” Mina reassures, despite only glancing at you for no less than a second, “hey and once you’re done tell Joon to have a cocktail ready for me by the time I’m done performing,” you nod, making your way out to the main stage.

“She’s got a voice sent from the heavens above, almost as smooth as a Friday’s glass of whiskey, she can sing, she can dance, she can act, she’s a triple threat of course! And to add to it all, she’s got the face of a doll, give a warm welcome for little miss y/n!”

Slowly, the curtains are pulled open, as you signal to the jazz band to start, another day, another dollar to make. You hear the cheers of men as you slowly take off your fur-made shoulder wrap, teasing the audience in what was hidden underneath. With every holler your ego only grows, knowing that all eyes were on you, including his.

Glancing in his direction, you find him staring at you in the same concentrated, sultry gaze he always did, purposely pouting your lips as you sang. You knew the power you held, the effect you had on those around you. Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image they wanted you to be in their head, a figment of their imagination come to life so to speak.

Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman.

Unstrapping the leather of your heel, your feet immediately feel relief, as you kick off the black t-strap heels you had been wearing all night under your vanity desk. Though you loved wearing heels, the constant foot blisters caused by the cheap leather were definitely a downside.

Making yourself comfortable in your seat, you dump out the money from your tip jar, a smile appearing on your lips as you noticed the twenty dollar bill in the pile. Eagerly you grab it, excitedly crisping the sturdy green bill.

“They must've really liked that performance today,” a voice whispers to your ear from behind, catching you by surprise. You were used to him making a knock of some sort. Immediately you feel the tingle of goosebumps now prickling onto your skin, the giddy feeling in your stomach never getting old.

Slowly, he begins to give small pecks on your neck, every kiss lingering longer than the last. His lips then begin to softly suckle on your neck, causing you to push your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you complain, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Too bad that tip wasn’t from me,” he shades, clear annoyance coming from his tone. In your distracted state, he snatches the bill from your hands, causing you to immediately get up from your seat in an effort to get it back.

“Hey,” you childishly groan, trying to reach his arm which was now lifted in the air. Seeing that there was no use in trying, you give up. He then relaxes his arm, and begins to inspect the bill, your eyebrow raising at his action.

“What are you—”

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, and suddenly rips the bill into shreds. Eyes widening in shock, you place a hand over your mouth. But as quick as the shock came, it was replaced by anger even quicker, “What the hell is wrong with you!” you shout, eyebrows now furrowed.

“It was a counterfeit, a fake,” he reiterates, leaving you slightly taken aback, but you try your best not to give a reaction.

“And,” you stutter, “And how are you so sure about that, huh?” you cross your arms, still upset at how sudden his actions were.

“Because this,” he pulls out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, “is a real one,” he attempts to hand the bill to you, but is met with resistance on your side.

Pushing his hand away, you scowl, “I don’t want your money, I’ve told you that already,” you huff, feeling a slight tug at your heartstrings, your ego now bruised at both the fact that the bill was fake and that Jungkook felt compelled to replace it for you.

He hugs you from behind, rocking both you and him back and forth, “I know, I know,” he chuckles, “but seeing the way those men kept looking at you,” he pauses, now scowling, “I guess you can say I don’t like what’s mine being spoiled by others,” he ponders causing you to roll your eyes, still in his embrace nonetheless.

“It’s my job,” you jest, “not like I’m sleeping with them,” you shade, a sly smirk now on your face, as you feel his hardened member now rubbing against your ass, a clear sign that you weren’t the only feeling aroused.

“Feisty, huh?” he laughs, his right hand from behind slowly making its way around your neck, softly gripping your smooth skin. Soon enough, he begins to kiss you, your lips parting to let his tongue slowly go down further, the grip on your neck becoming tighter as the kiss deepens.

With his other free hand, he maneuvers under your robe, teasingly grazing over your thigh, almost as if waiting for the green light, “Just say the words,” he whispers into your ear, his fingers now tugging at the hem of your robe.

Without saying anything, you begin to untie it, the silk material dropping to the floor in a matter of seconds, now only in your bra and underwear, you whisper in return, “Fuck me,” and with that he’s quick to release the grip on your neck, turning you to face him. His kisses become sloppy as he signals for you to jump.

Now holding you up by the thighs, you link your arms around his neck as he places you on top of the vanity desk, careful to not push any of your perfume bottles, “I bet those men could only dream of having you like this,” he growls in between kisses, “Take off the bra,” he demands, his fingers now playing with the lace of your underwear.

With no second thought, you unclip the back of your bra, throwing it somewhere across your dressing room, desperate to have him inside you already. With one hand rubbing circles over the lace, the other rolls your hardened nipples in between his fingers, a smirk now plastered onto his face as he hears you trying to suppress your moans.

“Please Jungkook,” you whine, your thighs tightly wrapped against his waist, grinding yourself against his pants. Ignoring you, he sucks on the underside of your jaw, then to your neck, slowly making his way downward, until finally he’s softly sucking on your nipple.

“God that feels so good,” you pant, throwing your head back in complete utter bliss as he marks you, your hand gently tugging at his hair as he elicits the sweetest moans out of your mouth.

“All mine,” he groans, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, gonna have creaming all over my fucking cock,” continuing to suck on your nipples, his finger now slips under your underwear, placing them inbetween your folds, “Already this wet, kitten?” he mocks, “Those men out there have no idea how much of a whore you are,” his fingers begin to move up and down your clit, doing nothing but teasing you.

“Please Jungkook,” your voice shakes, the need to feel something, anything, inside you becoming much too overwhelming. Slowly he sinks his index finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out of you until gradually he slips in another, your wetness making it easy to do so. You arch your back against the vanity’s mirror in pleasure, “Mm, faster Jungkook,” you manage to breathe out, his two fingers soaked with your wetness.

“So tight,” he mutters his pace now quickening at your command, “Look at you, already wanting to cum,” he mocks, “How do you expect to take my cock huh?” he mumbles into your neck, ready to add a third finger, “Answer me,” he demands, bringing his other hand to your neck once again.

“Because,” you’re unable to reply, now feeling your release coming to light, “I’m boutta—” you whimper, with every movement you feel it coming closer and closer until suddenly he slows his pace, very much denying you from your release only causing you to let out a cry in complaint, the pressure that had built up immediately slowing down, “Jungkook,” you whine.

“You didn’t answer me,” he teases, pulling your underwear off, now having you completely undressed. Getting on his knees, he parts your legs wide open, your pussy being nothing but a glorious sight to him. Gently he swipes his finger across your sensitive folds, knowing that your senses were heightened from the denial, “Such a pretty pussy,” he teases, now rubbing circles onto your clit, “I bet you taste so good,” he pulls his finger away, suckling on the wetness that coated his finger, “so it does,” he says.

“Use your tongue,” you needily whisper, not sure at how long you’d be able to handle all the teasing, “please,” you cry, hoping that he’d do something soon. He drops wet, messy, kisses along your thighs, your skin now prickling in anticipation. He was purposely taking his time, finding pleasure at your squirming. A part of you just wants to push his head for your selfish reasons, but you knew that it’d get you nowhere because at the end of the day he was in full control, and you would just have to deal with the pleasurable torture.

With every kiss, suckle, and lick, you could practically feel yourself trembling, “Please Jungkook,” you beg, but he only hums in response, continuing with his wicked game of torture. Unable to control yourself, you let go of his hair, now maneuvering your hand to your pussy in a desperate effort to soothe the ache that had long been built up.

But just as you’re about to begin to pleasure yourself, his own reflexes are quick to grab you by the hand, roughly pushing it down onto the desk in an effort to stop you, “Mm mm mm,” he coos, “A slut like you doesn’t get to be in control, remember that kitten,” he sings, making a nodding motion with his finger.

Soon enough, you feel his warm tongue on your clit, licking and sucking through your folds, his index finger rubbing at your clit all at the same time. “Oh my God, right there,” you moan, the tension you felt immediately being released as he indulged himself further into your folds, pumping his finger back into your pussy once more, this time rubbing at your g-spot, your folds completely soaked with both your fluids and his saliva. Your orgasm once again was building up and as a result your pussy clenched around his fingers, your muscles going limp as you knew it was coming closer.

“You’re gonna cum for me, kitten?” you vigorously nod your head in response, physically squirming at his words, “Cum for me,” he breathes out, the euphoric feeling overcoming you, as you felt the waves of your orgasm hit, leg trembling at the sensation. Immediately he begins to plant soft kisses among your thighs, softly caressing you as you came down from your high.

He gets up from his knees, beginning to gently place kisses onto your cheek, “What a good girl,” he teases, going in to kiss you. You place your hand at the back of his head as you deepen the kiss, transforming the kiss to nothing but tongue and saliva. The two of you now making out on the vanity once again, his hardened cock rubbing against your bare pussy, the fabric of his pants acting as the only barrier in between.

He groans once you playfully you graze your other hand over the fabric, the idea of having his cock filling you up only exciting you, “I need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, arousal dripping from every word as you played with the waistband of his pants.

“Is that what you want, kitten?” he asks, now unbuttoning his pants, and pulling out his thick, large cock, “Such a little whore, singing and dancing for those men,” he seethes, the look of jealousy presently on his face, “if only they could hear the way you squirm for me,” he chuckles, “just how needy and desperate you become for my cock,” you gasp as you feel his head now teasing the slit of your entrance, “How I have you moaning my name,” he whispers, suckling at the nip of your neck.

“Put it in already,” you whine, ready to have his cock thrusting in and out of you, and so with that he slowly pushes his head which was covered in pre-cum into your hole, your wetness from earlier making it easy for him to slip it in, while your hot walls take him in with ease just as the many nights before, but still the pressure of the stretch was something you’d never get used to.

“So fucking tight,” he grunts, impusivley pulling your hair from the back as his girth pushed it’s way inside of you, taking a moment to allow the two of you to adjust, his cock now buried deep within you, “Tell me when you’re ready Y/N,” he sincerely says, having seen the momentary look of discomfort on your face.

Nodding once you were ready, he begins to slowly thrust, the items you had on the vanity beginning to jump at the sudden movement of the desk. Your moans and the squelching sound from the movement of his cock and your wetness now fill the room, his pace quickening with every deep thrust.

“Oh fuck—” you cry, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours.

“This is my pussy, you got that?” all you can do is nod in response, his thrust getting harder and sloppier, until suddenly he stops, “Turn around and bend over the desk,” he commands, pulling out and pumping his girth with his hand, not wanting to lose momentum.

It was shocking really, the countless number of times you two have fucked in between show sets, prior, and after, and each and every time it felt as good and exciting as the first time.

Eagerly you turn around, laying your stomach flat on top of the vanity’s surface, your dripping soaked pussy in full view for him, the cold air of the room along with the lack of fullfiness in your cunt causing you to let out a small whine, desperate to have Jungkook’s cock warm you up again, “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs to himself, looking at your face from the reflection in the mirror as he began to stuff your pussy with his cock once again.

He begins to thrust again, each one feeling fuller than the last, “Fuck Jungkook,” you cry, his cock now hitting your g-spot in this position, “Faster baby,” the friction from his steady rythym now wasn’t enough, as you felt another orgasm incoming.

“Faster?” he asks, “You said it,” he laughs, now pounding against your walls at a pace that was so overwhelming, you were almost sure that anyone within ten yards could probably hear you. “You nasty little slut, just look at yourself,” he groans, yanking you by the hair and forcing you to look at the reflection of yourself in the mirror in front of you, “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this,” he quickens his his pace, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, “And only me, you got that?” all you could do was moan in response, resulting in a hard spank to your ass, “Answer me!” he groans, as you grip onto the corners of your vanity’s desk, his cock pounding harder and harder within your walls every passing second.

“Mmhm only you Jungkook!” you cry, placing your hand on the mirror, trying not to lose balance of yourself, “I’m so close,” you manage to breathe out, the tight feeling in your abdomen signaling that you were going to cum any moment, his breathy moans also telling you that he was close to bottoming out as well.

He tilts down, the sounds of his panting now directly behind your ear, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pushing your hair away from your neck to give you a small kiss. Seconds later, your vision goes white as you feel the final rush of stimulation washing over you, as he quickly pulls out and pumps his own release onto your back. The two of you now catching your breath, completely exhausted.

He buttons his pants back up, grabbing your things from the floor as well as a towel from your rack, gently cleaning you up as you remain in your position, too tired to even stand. “Come on,” he whispers, gently pulling you from behind so that he could pick you up, your body always feeling completely limp post-orgasm, add the fact that this was post-work as well, you had every reason to be tired.

Placing you on the small love-seat couch you had in your dressing room, which was generally used for—nevermind that, he helps dress you, guiding your legs through the underwear holes, laughing at your groans whenever you’d miss. “Come on, stop being lazy,” he teases, only resulting in another groan from you. You cross your arms again and pout like a kid, a huge grin now on his face. Gently, he cups your face, playfully squishing your cheeks in the process, just like he always does, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“Why do you always do that?” you manage to say, his hands still squeezing the life out of your cheeks.

“Because it’s cute,” he gives you a peck on the lips before finally letting them go, allowing you to place your robe back on, “You’re cute,” he nuzzles into your neck, the two of you to falling back on the couch, as he then begins to tickle you.

“Stop,” you begin to hysterically laugh, his fingers prancing around the sides of your stomach, “Jun—Jungkook stop,” you breathe out, a toothy grin on his face as he attempted to avoid your playful kicks.

To any other person, this loving moment between you two would cause nothing of the suspicion, hell, they’d probably even mistake the golden band on his finger as the sacrament of your holy matrimony. It was moments like these where you questioned where your relationship with the married man stood, where you’d ask yourself at what point had the line blurred between only doing this for fun and actually having feelings?

Slowly Jungkook stops tickling you once he notices that your laughs had begun to die down, and your face had become serious,“Hey what’s wrong?” he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell on your thoughts too much, “It’s nothing really,” you give him a small smile. Momentarily he stares at you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“Let’s go home?” you stare at him wide-eyed, home?

“Wait what?”

“I asked if you’d like me to take you home?” he chuckles, though you knew you must’ve heard him wrong, the sinking feeling in your heart hurt just as much, a part of you secretly hoping that you were wrong.

“Oh um,” you respond, “no it’s fine Jungkook, I’ll just um,” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ll just ask Joon, I think he should still be cleaning up, and Mina is probably bored waiting,” you force a laugh. He furrows his eyebrows, unsure about leaving you here, but relents nonetheless.

“Hm, okay then,” he says, giving you a departing kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you soon, alright?” you nod your head, the forced smile on your face quickly dropping the moment he walks out the door.

“You sure are loud, Namjoon was complaining about wanting ear muffs while he cleans,” Mina laughs, now entering your dressing room, Jungkook having left several minutes ago. She expects you to laugh like you usually do, or even throw a smart remark in return, but instead you remain silent, staring at your reflection in the vanity’s mirror. Your eyes were puffy from crying, because in those minutes that Jungkook had left, a feeling of shame had washed over you. “Hey, what’s wrong kiddo?” she walks towards you, quickly grabbing a tissue from the tissue box you had on your desk, beginning to wipe the run down mascara from your cheeks, softly running her other hand through your hair in an effort to comfort you.

Sniffling, you shake your head in refusal to talk, “Hey, come on, you know you can tell me anything,” she reassures, “It’s better to let things out, than to have it build up,” she frowns, the sight of seeing you cry breaking her heart.

“I,” you struggle to say what’s on your mind, “I love him,” you whisper, voice breaking as you finally said what you’d long known. For a second she stares at you, her faint gasp quickly hidden as she continues to comfort you.

“Oh Y/N,” she sighs, sad that she is unable to find the words that could make this all better. If only Namjoon was—

“What’s going on he—” Namjoon furrows his eyebrows as he sees the sight of his fianceé comforting his long time friend, who now had her face buried in her hands.

“I love him so much, and everytime he comes here I just wanna tell him,” you pause, “I wanna tell him everytime he walks out that door that he could be with me, that I want him to love me,” you cry, “that the only reason I keep seeing him is because I hope one day he just magically wakes up and walks through that door to tell me that he wants to be with me and only me, not her.”

You push your hair back in distress, “And you have to understand I never meant for things to go this far,” you quietly mumble, “and at first it was just a one time thing, nothing but a tiny sin, I thought I wouldn’t ever see him again, but now it’s become so much more,” you sigh, “And I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t feel anything.”

Namjoon walks over to you, crouching down so that you could face him, “Hey, we’re not here to judge you,” he firmly states, gently pulling your hands away from your face so that you could make eye contact with him, “you have every right to feel the way you do, you hear me?” slowly you nod your head in response as he lets out a chuckle, “Hell, we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t act selfishly here and there,” he pauses, “but what you do need to do is tell him because you’re right, you can’t keep doing this, or else you’ll be stuck in the same old place forever, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he flashes you his famous old dimpled smile, Mina rubbing small circles on your shoulder as an extra layer of comfort.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. It was true, you were, because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he told you that there was no way he’d ever leave her for you? That the feeling of love which had only been growing stronger for the past year would remain as nothing more than a fantasy.

“You’ll never know till you say something,” he gives you a small comforting smile, “Come on let’s get you home little miss Y/N,” he pats your lap, getting up from his crouched position, your Friday night coming to its end.

Jungkook opens the door to his home, genuinely tired from the long week, simply ready to go to bed. “So, where were you?” he hears a voice from behind say. Sighing, he turns around to face his wife of three years, who was currently dressed in her overseas designed silk-purple nightgown, one of the many she owned.

His eyes glance around the room, refusing to make eye contact, “I went out to get drinks with Jimin, you know... the usual for a Friday night,” he wonders how long she’s been waiting for him, honestly it had been a while since she pulled something like this.

“All the bars close at ten, it’s twelve,” she tries to firmly state, but instead her voice cracks, “I have Amelia calling me telling me that Jimin’s gotten hom—”

“Catherine,” he begins, his voice hoarse at how tired he was, “Can we just talk about this some other day? I’m just really tired and,” he shakes his head, combing his hand through his hair, hoping she’d understand.

Catherine momentarily stares at him in silence, an emotionless look on her face before turning and going back upstairs to their bedroom. Jungkook decides to serve himself a glass of whiskey before going to bed in hopes of getting rid of the heavy guilty feeling that weighed over him, and that maybe tonight it’d just be best to sleep on the couch.

“Blue or Red?” you dangle the two outfits from their hangers in front of Jungkook, who was relaxing on your dressing room’s couch, exhausted from the sex you two just had, “I’ve personally been told blue is more of my color, but I feel like red makes me pop out a whole bunch more, and well I need those tips,” you ramble, “So what do you think?”

It had been about two weeks since you last saw him, and since your little breakdown, and though you had taken Namjoon’s words into consideration, the courage to actually go through with it just wasn’t there. Instead you had decided that you needed to wait for the right moment to tell him, and though you weren’t exactly sure when that moment would be, you were definitely sure that when it did happen, maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out how you pictured it to be.

He stretches his arms, releasing a yawn, “Mm,” he hums, “how bout none and you call it a day,” he winks, resulting in a playful hit to the shoulder from you. You gasp as he pulls you to sit on his lap, “And what song are you singing tonight kitten?” he asks.

“Mm I don’t know yet,” you laugh, “might just come up with something last minute,” you joke, but secretly you always did want to venture into composing and writing your own music, weekly newspapers citing that across the country in Hollywoodland, people who could sing, dance, and act, could achieve overnight worldwide fame.

Hollywoodland was a dream, an unrealistic one of course, but a dream nonetheless. Who knows, maybe one day you could make it big out there, but for now you had to focus on where you were locally “famous” : Al’s Melody Noir.

“And become the next Hollywoodland star?” he teases, quickly squishing your cheek before you could knock his hand away.

You shrug, “Hey, you never know,” you smile, “someone in the crowd might just hand me a one way ticket,” you say causing him to roll his eyes and playfully tighten the grip he had on your waist.

“Why not audition for Broadway or something,” he pouts his lips, “they can always use a star like you,” he sings.

“Because I don’t want to be a Broadway star,” you say, “I want to be a Hollywood star,” you grin, “I mean no offense to those Broadway stars, they’re talented and all, but I’m telling you right now that in 50 years from now, the names that are going to be remembered will be the ones who are on that big screen,” Jungkook quietly hums in response, no longer wanting to entertain this topic.

Grabbing his wrist, you glance at his wrist watch, “Ooo, I’m about to go on,” you yelp, quickly getting up from his lap and making any final touch ups to your hair, he gets up as well now getting ready to head out. “Are you sure you can’t stay to see me perform tonight?” you plead, the doe eyed look on your face making it hard for him to say no, but he had to, it was the sole reason why he came to see you before your time slot.

“You know I can’t doll,” he gives you a small kiss on the lips, “I got a whole bunch of paperwork to catch up on tonight,” he sighs, he wasn’t lying either. The stock market was booming as of late, especially because of the newly profound industrial boom, being a stockbroker right now was not only a stressful job but one where any little mistake could cost absolutely everything, “Next time I’ll be there, I promise,” he plants another kiss to your forehead, “And don’t put on too much of a show for em!” he shouts as he walks out.

You look at yourself one last time in the mirror, “Let’s do this,” you whisper, ready to make that stage yours once again.

“Oh you should've seen us having to push that car down the road, whoever this Henry Ford man is needs to learn how to make his cars weight lighter,” Mina complains, you and Namjoon laughing as the three of you were now together at the bar, Namjoon still on the clock of course.

Despite it being a rainy day, tonight was a full house, the club full of upper New York socialites occasionally some of them with their wives and girlfriends. Gambling tables were surrounded by both business men and mafia members. It was clubs like Al’s where you’d see the two different worlds collide and openly interact with one another, but honestly most of these men went hand and hand with each other. Not like there really was that much of a difference between them.

Mina puffs out the smoke from her cigar, “Look, I even chipped my nail,” she flaunts her left hand, Namjoon laughs at her obvious attempt to show off her shiny engagement ring.

“Hey don’t go flaunting it around too much,” he playfully says, but both you and Mina knew that behind that joking tone, he was definitely being serious.

She leans over the front bar rail, dramatically puckering her lips, to which he of course places his lips on, “Hey, get a room!” you complain, “Al sees you two doing that on the clock and he’ll have you two written up!” you laugh.

“Hey I’m on my break,” she clarifies, “And so are you, and if I’m looking at the clock correctly you go on in forty, and you have yet to change.”

Getting up from the bar stool, you dramatically groan in annoyance, now pursing your lips, “Didn’t realize you wanted me gone so badly.”

“Ah you know I’m just joking Y/N,” she passes you her glass of whiskey, “A shot for good luck,” she winks, and so reluctantly you slug down the remainder of her drink, the burning sensation not at all feeling pleasant, as your nose immediately wrinkled at its taste.

“I don’t know how you two drink this stuff,” you say, a childish look of disgust on your face, “it’s banned for a reason you know.”

“You get used to it,” Namjoon comments, “Now get going! Because of all this small talk, you only got thirty minutes left, and we all know how long you take!” he scolds, making a motion with his hand for you to start walking.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you roll your eyes, now making your way back to your dressing room.

“Remember to show em what you’re made of Miss Hollywoodland,” Mina shouts, as you now shook your head in laughter as you left.

You walk towards your dressing room, still laughing to yourself at Mina’s little comment. Tonight was already a good night, your tips seeing a slight increase after your new performance which of course you’d have to count singularly later to get exact numbers. But for now all you wanted to simply do was change, get your last performance over with, catch a cab, and go to bed. The sound of the rain pouring outside would be nothing but relaxing once you got home, that was for sure.

“Mina, Mina, Mina,—” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the handle to your dressing room, ready to just kick off your heels. But what you see in front of you once you open the door immediately confuses you, as someone was occupying your vanity chair. It wasn’t until you looked at the reflection of the mirror that the heavy feeling weighing on your chest dropped down to your stomach. Because there she was sitting with her legs crossed, fixing her crimson colored lipstick in the mirror.

Standing there in silence, your eyes study her body language. In a way she seemed eerily relaxed, her shoulders weren’t tensed like yours, and her breathing seemed steady. The complete opposite of you.

The tension in the room was so thick, you were unsure of what to say because really what was there for you to say? You knew why she was here, she knew why she was here, so then why did everything feel so uneasy, like a bubbling bottle ready to pop off at any moment.

You want her to scream, to tell you off, to do something that you would expect from her, but instead she hums a tune, continuing to fix her lipstick, not once making eye contact with you, until finally she breaks her silence. A quiet, sly, chuckle coming from her lips.

“You know when I first met Jungkook I remember my heart feeling as if it was going to leap out of my chest,” she calmly shares, “Our respective families had introduced the two of us to one another at some horse racing event in New Orleans, my mother pulling me to the side to tell me that he was an up and coming stockbroker, not that it mattered anyway, I had already been swept off my feet from the moment I laid my eyes on him,” she scoffs at recalling the memory, “and you know I’d like to think that just for that one day he felt the same thing I had felt for him.”

She pauses, hazily looking at her reflection in the mirror, still not having glanced in your direction. “We got married a couple months later, bought our first home here in New York, and every morning I’d make him his cup of coffee and kiss him off for work. I remember thinking about just how perfect my life had come out to be. I was buying custom dresses from Europe, and having my pearls imported from the southern China sea, everything a girl could dream of,” she looks down at the ring placed on her left index finger, shining as bright as ever, “I remember bragging to my friends about my perfect life, and they would tell me that all I needed was the kids,” she laughs, “The other housewives would gossip to me about husbands cheating on their wives’ and I would think to myself how Jungkook would never do that to me, that he loves me too much do something like that.”

“But what I had failed to realize was that I was always viewing things from my perspective,” she shakes her head, almost as if disappointed with herself, “I guess it’s due to the way I was raised, I mean I was a spoiled child who grew up in a wealthy family, never once did I see things from the perspective of others,” she comments, “because maybe if I had I would’ve realized that my husband had quickly fallen out of love with me, or hell he may have never been in love with me to begin with,” the lurching feeling of guilt resurfaces itself from the pits of your stomach, the need to vomit almost excruciating, “but I didn’t,” she bitterly scoffs.

“And so when a friend of mine and her husband invited us to some underground new club in town that was getting all kinds of reviews from the drinks, to the dancers, and the triple threat of a star who could sing, dance, and act. I thought sure, why not? We had gone to many different clubs before where there’d be dancers who walked around with nothing but tiny little stickers across their nipples, and not once did I have to worry about his eyes straying too far,” she finally makes eye contact with you through the reflection of the mirror, “until he saw you that night.”

Getting up from your seat, her heels clack on the wooden floor as she makes her way towards you. Her calm demeanor reminding you of a snake ready to bite at any moment, “I don’t know how you two started off, or who initiated it first because God I honestly stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago,” she pauses, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to prevent herself from breaking down, “At first I thought you were going to be nothing but a phase, something temporary, something he was just doing out of compulsion, that it could’ve been anyone that he was going to commit adultery with.”

She stares at you, her eyes watery, a pool of emotions found in her eyes, “So then when I found myself having to go to that damn club every week, just to,” her voice finally cracks, the pristine glass cup that she was finally breaking, “Just to have to see him stare at you with those eyes every night to the point where he wouldn’t even tell me to come anymore, he’d be going out in the middle of the night just to see you in that damn club for God’s sake!” she cries, her face now red at her lash out.

You stare at her wide-eyed, frozen in place as she’s only inches away from you, an intense chill going down your spine.

“He’s,” she pauses, “He’s my husband,” her voice trembles in hysteria, “My husband,” she repeats, as if trying to reassure herself.

Finally, you manage to stutter something out, “I—I didn’t know at—”

“First?” she scoffs, “Is that the excuse you’re going to give me? What about the second time? Or the third? And the fourth and every other time afterward, huh? All those times you’d spot him in the crowd with me only being a couple of feet away from him, or did you just block me out of your mind so you could sleep at night? Is that it?” she yells. “You just couldn’t do it, huh? You just couldn’t stay away from him, like the dirty tramp you are,” she spat, looking at you with nothing but disgust, “Well say something goddammit! Instead of looking at me with that stupid look on your face!” her voice shakes.

“I never meant for it to go this far,” you whisper, lowering your head in shame, “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything from the likes of someone like you,” she snaps. The heavy feeling on your chest only weighs harder as you realized you needed to tell her the truth, the truth on what you really felt. Slowly you raise your gaze to meet hers, the lump in your throat fighting against the words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“I love hi—”

The sound of the crack of skin contacting skin echoes off the walls, a deafening silence immediately following afterward. As if time was frozen in its place. She slowly looks at her trembling hand which was now vibrating in a pain that etched from the center of her palm to the tip of her fingertips, it’s bright red appearance matching the new welt on your face. You stare at her wide eyed, hand now clutching cheek in pain, no possible words articulating in your head.

The look on her face is one that’ll haunt you to your grave, it’s the look of someone you had first-hand in breaking. The tears that were currently gracefully falling from her eyes weren’t from a place of sorrow, but the buildup of anger and pain.

She should've felt some kind of remorse. But she didn't. Not one organ in her body could produce a gland of guilt for her actions because at the end of the day this was the least you deserved. She glances at the mark she’s left on your cheek, bitterly scoffing, not because it was big or anything but because it was in fact a cut. A small one where her wedding ring had caught you, a permanent scar that’ll remind you every morning when you look in the mirror of what you’d done. And she hoped, no, she wanted you to feel shame whenever you looked at it.

“You stay away from my husband,” she pleads demands, quickly grabbing her bag from your vanity, and rushing her way out, leaving you there to reflect on everything that just happened.

Jungkook sighs, flipping to the next document on his desk, a night full of work ahead of him. New clients needed to be accommodated, considering everyone wanted a piece of the pie that was the New York Stock Exchange.

Tonight it was raining, a downpour in fact, the prelude to an up and coming storm. The thunder already beginning to cry out from the sky above, the trees around his home writhing and flailing against his window.

Getting up from his desk, he closes up the window as well as shutting the blinds, turning on his shaded glass lamp which provided the dim lighting he always liked working in. The muffled sound of the rain comforting as well.

Catherine was out to God knows where, mumbling something about a girl’s night out before walking out, which of course he didn’t mind, but it was getting quite late. He shrugs off the concern, instead continuing with his work.

Ah she must be back already, he thinks to himself, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs. Suddenly he hears his office door open, “So you’re back already,” he says, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.

He’s met with silence.

Looking up, he’s taken back by the woman standing in front of him. Because there she was, hair and clothes drenched in water along with mascara running down her eyes. A haunting empty look in her eyes.

Quickly he gets up, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “Why are you—Where—What happened?” he finally manages to ask, but she remains silent, staring off at the bookcase behind his desk.

“Catherine you’re soaking! I thought you went to Amelia’s?” he chides, but again she remains silent, until slowly she moves her pupils to his direction.

The two stare at each other for what seems like forever, words not having to be spoken in order to know what exactly was happening. He turns to break the gaze, the feeling of shame that he had been pushing off for so long bubbling in his stomach.

A low staggered laugh comes out of her mouth, steadily becoming louder and louder, booming across the room until tears are now falling from the corners of her eyes, as she goes into a fit of hysteria until finally she begins to sob. “I thought I could live with it,” she whispers in between, “I thought things were going to end at some point between the two of you—”

“Catherine,” he starts, but she’s quick to cut him off.

“But it never did!” she laughs, making a small motion to her head, “and it was there like an itch at the back of my mind all the time,” she lets out a breath in disbelief, “and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Catherine, it’s not what you think it is,” he sighs, causing her to only laugh.

“She loves you, you know that right?” she bitterly scoffs, recalling your words from earlier, “And God help me, because I think you might love her too,” she finally cries out, finally saying the thought she’d kept buried in her mind for so long out loud. The feeling of suffocation finally coming to an end.

“For a wife to have to witness the entirety of her husband falling for another woman,” her voice trembles, “to have to witness the exact moment that you fell in love with her,” she whispers, vigorously shaking her head in denial,“ I don’t even wish that upon my worst enemy,” she lets out a choked sob.

All he could do is stare at her, no words at the tip of his tongue, nothing he could say or do to comfort her. “So,” she grimaces, as if fighting to get the words out of her mouth, but she needed to ask. She needed to hear him say it.

“Do you love her?”

He remains silent. He can’t even bring himself to deny it, she thinks to herself. You could hear a pin drop fall at how silent the room was.

“I’m going to bed,” she whispers, the feeling of defeat draining her as she walks out of the room leaving Jungkook to stand there by himself, the thunderstorm outside finally coming to an end.

“Al doesn’t pay me enough for this,” you groan, scrubbing the wood floors with your bristled brush. Tonight it was your turn to close up the club, and though Namjoon usually offered to stay and help you, he had sadly caught a cold, and so instead tonight you were stuck with Al himself to clean up, which of course meant you’d be stuck doing everything. He was already out front doing God knows what, most likely smoking a cigar or something.

It had been weeks since your encounter with Catherine, as well as your last visit from Jungkook, which you could only assume had to do with said situation. Honestly the whole situation had been anxiety inducing, having gone directly home after the whole ordeal, not bothering to say goodbye to Namjoon or Mina as you left, still stuck in the state of shock that you were in.

Even the usual taxi driver who normally drove you home after work was worried at your silence throughout the whole trip. Usually you kept him updated on the different things going on in the club, especially since he was always interested in, in his words, “innovations you young people are making.”

“She was dame, in love with a guy,” you continue to scrub the floor, now humming the song from a movie you had watched a couple a days ago, “She stuck with him but didn’t know why,”

“Everyone blamed her, Still they all named her,” you hear a familiar voice playfully sing, “True Blue Louuuuu,” Jungkook stretches out the final word, now standing in front of you, a warm smile on his face. He was dressed in his usual suit attire, his parted hair with no hair out of place only symbolizing his calm attitude for things.

Quickly getting up, you pat down your skirt of any possible dirt, “How did you—” Before you could even finish asking, your mind immediately answers the question for you, “Al,” you let out a laugh, that man will truly let anyone into his club.

“It’s not like he doesn’t recognize me by now,” he chuckles, opening his arms for embrace, which hesitantly you accept. Jungkook, taken aback by your reluctance, cups your face like he usually does and attempts to give you a pop kiss, which you quickly maneuver your way out of thus confirming something was wrong. “Hey,” he whines, pouting his lower lip.

Gently you push him off, picking up the bucket of dirty water from the floor, silently ignoring his antics, “Y/N,” he grabs your hand as you turn away from him.

Knowing there was nothing in this situation you could do but face him, you sigh, “What?” you harshly say, your attitude causing the dirty bucket of water to slip from your hands, “Ugh,” you groan, a headache now rising, “Look what you made me do,” you hiss.

He lifts his hands in his defence, “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything kitten,” your heart skips a beat at the pet name, but you’re quick to shrug the feeling off, huffing as you went to go get the mop from behind the bar stand, Jungkook only following. “I know you’re mad,” he begins, only raising a bitter laugh out of you.

You inhale a breath of fresh air, trying to keep your composure, “Me? Mad? No!” you narrow your eyes at him.

Laughing at your sarcasm, he responds, “And I understand why—”

You cut him off, “How could you possibly understand? You’re not the one who got slapped across the face,” you frown, clenching your jaw, “I even got a left with a scar because of it,” you angrily point to the small cut under your right eye, where her ring had caught you, “and this is my good side!” you throw in.

“You can’t even notice it—”

“That’s not the point!” you glare at him, “The point it, is that I can’t keep doing this,” you exhale loudly, “It’s-it’s” you stutter, firmly pressing your lips together, “it’s wrong,” you finally admit to him. Catherine’s words echo in your head, the image of her sobbing in front of you still fresh in your mind, “and so I,” you hesitate to say the next words, but it was now or never, “I think you need to choose, me or her? Because we can’t keep doing this, and you can’t expect me to stay in this position.”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“For the rest of my life, because— wait what?” you bring your ramble to an immediate halt, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“We’re getting a divorce,” he firmly repeats, completely making eye contact you, not even a twitch of the brow to signal if he was lying or not, “it’s why I haven’t been coming for the past few weeks, been filing paperwork and all that other time consuming stuff,” the two of you stand there in silence, the words barely sinking in for you as you owlishly stare at the wall behind him, nothing but a blank expression on your face.

This is what you wanted … you just hadn’t expected the answer to be dropped as a bombshell like this one. Was it wrong to feel … happy? Overjoyed? Excited? He’s choosing you, you tell yourself. He’s choosing you, you repeat to yourself. He’s choosing to try and have a future with you. “Earth to Y/N,” he waves his hand in front of you, bringing you back to reality.

You glance at the ring that’s haunted you since the day you met him, it’s emptiness being nothing but a marvelous sight, the corners of your lips slowly twitching upward. Jumping into his arms, you scatter his face with kisses, the sudden burst of energy you felt was a high you were sure you’d never feel again in your life.

“There’s my girl,” he mumbles into your ear, both his arms grabbing you to keep you steady. A part of you wants to ask him what happened, the itch to know more details almost excruciating, but instead you choose to enjoy the moment, deciding you’d ask him some other day. With this news, you’d have an eternal amount with him.

Gently, he places you down from his hold, “And I have news that’ll have you near passing out,” you quirk your brows, there was more? “So I think you might need to hold on to the bar or something,” he grins, the feeling of anticipation now creeping under your skin.

“Well get on with it,” you rush him, doubting that the grin on your face could become even bigger.

“The firm I work under throws these annual um…” he looks up, trying to find the right word for the event, “balls,” he smugly grins, “and well a lot of Broadway producers attend, who certainly have connections with people in Hollywoodland, and well let’s just say I pulled some strings and,” he dramatically pauses, building suspension, “you’ll be performing a set for them in a week from now, as my date of course.”

Your mouth hangs loose at his words, “No,” you say in complete bewilderment, feeling as if your head was in the clouds, but your feet were on the ground all at the same time, “What am I going to where? Sing? Oh my—” you ramble, “Jungkook I,” you stop yourself from continuing, instead pulling him another hug, the warmth you felt being in his arms being truly indescribable. Things were looking up, and you were definitely excited for what was to come for the two of you.

“So is it a yes?”

“Of course—”

“Not!” Amelia, Catherine’s long time friend and Jimin’s wife of two years, sneers, her teeth grinding at the mention of you, “This is not your fault Catherine! So don’t you dare say that,” she frowns, the two were currently strolling through her garden, Catherine finally admitting everything to her friend.

“I know it's not,” her heels clack against the cemented paveway, her hands softly grazing against the roses next to her, “but I keep asking myself,” she scoffs, “could this have been avoided?” Amelia’s who was already about to say something is stopped by Catherine, who raises her finger to signal that she could explain, “I mean I could’ve saved myself the trouble, leave the first sign there was of not even the affair, but the first sign of him just not loving me,” she chuckles, “I don’t know, I just keep trying to find answers to all my questions when really they’re all right there in front of me … I just refuse to face them,” she tugs at the rose petal she’d been grazing her fingers on for the last minute, watching it as it fell to the ground.

Amelia scowls at Catherine’s words, “Maybe if that whore of a woman learned how to respect marriages,” she snarls, unable to comprehend how Catherine could possibly be making excuses for you and Jungkook, “then this whole ordeal wouldn’t be happening. She’s going to get what’s coming to her one day.”

Loudly, Catherine exhales a breath of air, exhausted of going in circles with this conversation, honestly she didn’t expect any good advice from Amelia, she just needed an outlet to keep herself sane, “I expected to hate him,” Catherine shakes her head in dismay, “ No, I wanted to hate him, something to masquerade my hurt,” the nights of wishful thinking and crying in bed begin to cloud her mind, “It was like I was desperately waiting for the feeling to consume me, hoping the feeling would wash over me all at once,” she blankly stares at the roses in front of her, “the same way the ocean washes over a seashore at night, you know? But instead I was forced to slowly experience every raw feeling that stemmed from this situation.”

Coming to a halt, Catherine pulls out a cigar from her purse, signalling to Amelia that she needed a lighter, only causing her friend’s face to scrunch in confusion. Catherine rolls her eyes, “Why are you acting like you don’t smoke, Jimin isn’t even here,” she callously says, “Come on, I’m waiting,” she murmurs, the cigar in between her lips.

Begrudgingly she pulls out her lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of the cigar, an exhale of smoke immediately following after, “There’s rumours these things are addicting,” Amelia mumbles, watching as Catherine inhales another puff.

“There’s also speculation in the New York Times that they can kill you, but you don’t see me believing everything I read now do you,” Catherine laughs, the two continuing their stroll, different things on both of their minds.

“Cross, loop, under the bridge. over the loop, and,” Jungkook hums the tune once made to remind himself how to tie his necktie, “secure,” he breathes out, running a hand through his hair as he didn’t exactly picture himself getting ready in his firm’s office building. But today had been a long day and he didn’t have the time to go back home and change, especially since he still had to go pick you up, and well anyone who knew you, knew that getting ready on time was not your forte.

Instead he decided that his black suit, and a color change of tie would suffice. It wasn’t like the two of you were going to be there for too long, your performance was at the near beginning, the opening act per say.

He was excited to see what you’d pick out to wear, your outfits never failing to put a smile on his face, not because most of the time they were over the top and extravagant, but simply because it was you. Had it been anyone else wearing the things you dressed in, and he was sure he would’ve never bothered to spare even a glance. Honestly you could walk out with nothing but your nightgown and he would still do nothing but worship the ground you walk on.

“Tonight is going to be a good night,” he whispers, glancing at his now empty ring finger. It was going to be the start to something n—

A soft knock on the door interrupts, “Didn’t think I’d find you here,” a voice says.

Jungkook steps away from his mirror, surprised to find Jimin here at such a late hour, “Oh I didn’t realize you were still in the building,” he chuckles, “Thought I was the only one who did overtime tonight,” he glances at his wrist watch, time was on the essence, “Well I’ll see you at the event tonight, Amelia’s going with you, right?” Jungkook grabs his suit jacket from his chair, ready to make his way downstairs to the parking lot.

“Yeah, in fact I think Catherine is at the house helping her get ready,” Jungkook awkwardly tenses at the mention of his wife, the air in the room becoming stiff.

“Oh well that’s nice,” Jungkook gives him a small smile, making his way to walk out the door, “Like I said I’ll see you over there, I should really get going, my date is probably already waiting for me—”

“Y/N right?” Jimin casually asks. Jungkook stops in his tracks, mentally sighing to himself.

“Yeah you guessed it,” he gives Jimin an awkward superficial smile, his body slightly rocking back and forth in annoyance. Something about this interaction felt … uneasy.

“Actually I wanted to talk to you about that…”

Jungkook cocks his head in confusion, “Talk about what,” putting no effort to hide his annoyance. Jimin remains silent, as if contemplating his next choice of words, “Jimin I don’t have all day,” he sighs. Whatever this was was better be good, he thinks to himself.

“I,” Jimin pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “I need to show you something.”

Fixing your bright red lipstick, you hear the footsteps of someone entering the room, “I’m almost ready Jungkook, I just need to make sure these pins stay in place and I should be good to go,” you ramble, “Oh I’m so excited Jungkook! I couldn’t sleep all night yesterday, just thinking about performing was making me anxious, and well I just want to say thank you, you know? I know I wouldn’t be people’s first choice when it comes to performing at such a prestigious event, especially considering what a lot of people think of people who work in jobs like mine, but,” you fumble with your words, “but, it’s just so,” you clap your hands together, “oh I just can’t explain it! And to be your date,” your eyes sparkle. Tonight was going to be the night. Tonight you were going to tell him.

“To finally be given an opportunity it’s just—I don’t think I can thank you enough,” you finally breathe out, the feeling of excitement completely radiating off of you as you place your earrings on.

You wait for Jungkook to reply, to shower you with kisses like he always does when he sees you, but instead you’re met with complete silence, his figure from the reflection of the mirror completely frozen. Quickly you turn around, nose now wrinkled in confusion, “Jungkook?” you uneasily ask, the young man you were so enamored with only staring at you with a hardened gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you ask again, your voice laced with concern, “Did something happen? Do I need to change my setlist? Cause I can easily do that, I mean a perf—”

“You’re not performing tonight,” he harshly interrupts, your face falling as you hear the annoyance drip from every word.

“Oh,” your skin pales, your voice failing to hide its disappointment, “Can I ask why?”

“Because I told the committee you’re not, I managed to find a replacement last minute,” your face crinkles in shock.

“Wait what?” What the hell was going on? Why would Jungkook do that? Did you do something? Your heart begins to thud against your chest, the tingling feeling in the soles of your feet quickly spreading all over your body, “Why—Why would … why would you do something like that?” your eyebrows furrow, the feeling of anger now rising from the pits of your stomach.

Jungkook chuckles before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, “You really had me fooled Y/N,” he purses his lips, trying his best to contain his anger, “I cannot believe I let things get this far with you,” his voice shakes, every word seething with anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you cry out, genuinely lost. Uncrumpling the piece of paper, he turns it towards your direction, “Am I supposed to know what that is?” you snap, your face becoming red at his vague comments.

“You know you could really stop with that whole stupid act of yours,” he spits, “Honestly I should’ve known better than to trust someone like you,” he lets out a dry laugh.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you clench your fist.

“Well here take a look at it for yourself,” harshly, you snatch the letter from his hands, your eyes quickly skim through the contents of it.

“You think I wrote this?” your eyes widen in shock, now getting up from your seat and handing the letter back to him.

“I know you did,” he laughs, flailing his arms in the process, “Really Y/N? Jimin? Of all people? Did you really think it wouldn’t come back to me?” he almost sounds disgusted.

“But I didn’t! This isn’t even my handwriting!” tears of both frustration and anger begin to well in your eyes, “You have to believe me!” your voice booms across the room.

“I don’t have to believe shit!” he finally yells, the veins from his neck now popping out, “Your signature and name are written in these Y/N! You know how embarrassing this is?” he presses, “All because you can’t keep your fucking legs closed!” your mouth gapes in shock, “And God I can only imagine the amount of men you’ve probably tried seducing, I’m just the idiot who fell for it all,” he laughs, “And you know I kept trying to tell myself that you wouldn’t do something like this, that you wouldn’t try seducing a married man,” his words drip with sarcasm, “But you have!”

Rapidly you try to blink your tears away, refusing to let him see you cry, “You don’t mean that,” you whisper, shaking your head at his words.

“But I do!” he bites back, “But you know what it's fine,” he knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth were going to be a low blow. And in the back of his mind he knew he didn’t mean them, but he was angry, no, he was furious. He didn’t care what he had to say, he wanted you to feel just as hurt as he was, “it’s fine because I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing you’ll be stuck here for the rest of your life doing God knows what like the who—”

“Can you stop,” you try to scream, but instead your voice comes out hoarse, your lower lip trembling in sadness, “please,” you whisper, no longer being able to take any of this, “I didn’t write those letters,” you repeat, desperate for him to listen to you, “I know you have reason to believe Jimin, he’s your long time friend, I understand that, and I know my job doesn’t exactly have the best reputation,” you ramble with your words, heaving in between, “But I wouldn’t do this to you!”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because I,” your voice shakes, “Because I’m in love with you,” you cry out, “Don’t you get it? In love,” you emphasize, moving your hands in frustration, “You think I would’ve kept this going for so long if I didn’t feel something for you?” He remains silent, “I fell in love with you, okay? You!” you scream , “The way you kiss me, the way you touch me,, the way you laugh at every corny joke I make, the way you reassure me about myself whenever I feel insecure, the way your eyes light up whenever you talk about something that fascinates you whether it be boring old stocks to future industrial revolutions,” you let out a choked sob, “or the way you have this compulsion to squeeze my cheeks every time you tease me, and I could go on and on.”

“You’re my person,” you whimper, the final plea in this tragic story.

He turns his gaze to the floor, refusing to look at you, “I was never yours to begin with,” he mutters, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind, leaving you to ask yourself, What. Just. Happened?

Leaning against the door frame, Catherine exhales whatever’s left of her cigar, butting the stub on the wall. “You know, I really don’t mind moving to my parent’s country townhouse,” she casually says, calmly watching her soon to be ex-husband pack his office belongings.

It had been two weeks since your argument with Jungkook, and though he couldn’t confidently say that you hadn’t been on his mind everyday since, he was sure he would be just fine. Of course, he had been sad the first couple of days, then the sadness had become anger once again, until finally he was where he was currently at. Numbness.

Distracting himself with loads of paperwork, working overtime, and being in the midst of a divorce was doing wonders. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if now at the age of twenty-two, greys hairs started to appear because of the overwhelming stress he had to deal with.

Bringing himself back to reality, he’s quick to reject Catherine’s idea, “No, it’s fine, you picked out this place to begin with,” he chuckles, “Hell, I still remember how excited you were about decorating and the effort you put into all of this,” he gives her a small apologetic smile, “it’s only right that you stay. Honestly, I don’t see why you wouldn’t, you did an amazing job with this place.”

“Still, you paid for this place, it’s under your name,” she responds, “This place is just too much of a—” she hesitates.

“Reminder,” Jungkook completes, now having stopped his packing. The two stand there in what couldn’t be described as an awkward silence, but one of understanding.

“A reminder of what we illusioned ourselves in,” she looks down at her ring finger, smiling at its empty sight, “it’s funny,” she laughs, “even before you started the affair, I used to look down at my ring, and for some reason I never did feel,” she pauses, “what’s the word,” she takes a couple of seconds to regain herself, “I never truly felt… happy,” she states, surprised at how such a simple word could mean so much, “but now I look at the sight of it being gone, and I feel relieved, in fact, I feel... free,” she reiterates, her eyes now watery.

“We were young and pressured, I didn’t even have a sense of my own identity yet, and I mean not that it’s any excuse for what you did,” she emphasizes, “but I’m sure you didn’t have one either, I guess we were just too busy trying to please our respective families,” she scoffs, a smile now on her face, “I still even get your birthday confused sometimes,” she jokes around, causing Jungkook to flash his toothy grin at her, “Never did I bother to learn the small details about you,” she inhales and exhales a deep breath, “but she did,” she says, breaking eye contact with Jungkook, not because she was mad or sad, but because she’d come to realize something.

“I was in love with the idea of you, the things you would buy me, the compliments I would get from everyone around me, the idea of being able to flaunt a perfect life, but I think, no, I know I was never in love with you,” she looks at Jungkook once again, tears now freely flowing from his eyes, a chapter in their life now coming to its end.

“I don’t hate you for what you did Jungkook,” she blinks her own tears away, personally tired of all the crying she’s done, “nor do I hate Y/N,” she says, for the first time saying your name, the name smoothly rolling off the tip of her tongue, no ill feeling behind it, “I just wish things could’ve been different, in terms of us realizing that we were just never meant to be,” she finishes off, the final wave finally washing over her. The feeling of acceptance.

Catherine slowly walks towards him, embracing the crying man into a hug, giving him a small heartfelt kiss to the cheek, “I really am sorry Catherine,” he whispers, the words being nothing but genuine.

“I know,” she whispers in return. Gently, she breaks from the hug, wiping the tears that brimmed her eyes, “Come on, you gotta finish your packing,” she says, rolling the sleeves of her robe, and making her way to his desk.

“It’s fine really,” he starts, but she’s quick to ignore him and begin her rummaging of his things. So instead of fighting against her help, he goes back to continuing with what he was doing, the two quietly organizing things, finally at peace.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook huffs, taping the final cardboard box of paperwork. The two step back and look at the empty room, feeling proud of their hard work, “Well I’m gonna go take this down,” Catherine nods in response, Jungkook now leaving the room.

Her eyes scan the room one last time, making sure nothing was getting left behind, until surprisingly, she does in fact catch something from the corner of her eye. The edge of a piece of paper below the wooden bookshelf sticking out, “That’s weird,” she mumbles to herself, surprised at how she failed to notice it earlier.

Crouching down, she picks up the torn piece of paper, her eyebrows now furrowing at its incompleteness, with only half of the whole sheet being there. She turns the direction of the paper to where there’s writing, her eyes widening at what she sees, “Oh no,” she whispers to herself, trying to think quick on her feet, “The trashcan,” she says to herself, quickly grabbing it and tossing the remnants onto the floor, her breathing now uneasy as she sat on the floor, beginning to uncrumple the pieces of torn paper, silently hoping what she was thinking was all some twisted joke.

With her burst of adrenaline she somehow reassembles the ripped letter, her stomach dropping at the sight of the complete version, completely ignoring the footsteps that were making their way up.

To Jimin,

I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, you should come backstage sometime for your own personal show, just like your friend. I’m sure he won’t mind. Honestly, I’ve been getting a little bored of him these days. And don’t worry, I don’t mind seeing that ring on your finger. You know where to find me…

XO, Y/N.

“Mr. Olsen seems to have gotten a new ca—” Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, immediately tensing at the sight in front of him, “Catherine what are—” Jungkook doesn’t continue with what he’s about to say, the sight of Catherine’s shocked face now confusing him more than ever.

“Oh Amelia, what did you do,” she quietly breathes out, her face now frozen in place, and her hand covering her mouth.

“What?” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, “Amelia? What does Amelia have to do with—” his face immediately falls, his heart sinking at his realization.

“This,” Catherine stutters, “This is her handwriting,” she says, now looking up at Jungkook, whose face was in just as much as shock as hers, “I swear Jungkook, I didn’t know she’d do something like this,” Catherine rubs her temple, “Last time I saw her, she was bad mouthing Y/N but I didn’t she’d—” she shakes her head in dismay, “Jungkook, if I would’ve known I promise you I would’ve stopped her,” Catherine’s words sound like nothing but echoes in Jungkook’s head, his mind currently racing through a countless number of thoughts. His words from the last time he saw you now echoing in his head, the look on your face etching into his mind, oh how you kept denying the letter. The sudden pang of guilt, much too overwhelming.

“I know Catherine,” he whispers, but all he could do was stare at the letter on the floor. And as if time was frozen, he slowly glances at the mantel clock, his heart now pounding.

8:15 PM.

You should be performing in a bit, he thinks. Immediately he switches gears, hurriedly grabbing the coat on his desk and placing it on, “I,” he stutters, a frenzy look on his face, “I have to go,” he says, quickly running out the door. The only thing he could do was hope he’d catch you on time.

“Oh look who's back, it seems I haven’t seen you in a while,” the sultry hostess purrs, “oh and that ring of yours is gone, trouble in paradise?” she pouts, guiding him to one of the tables. Politely he makes a motion to her, as if to say that he was fine, “Mm well if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me hun,” she winks, making her way back to the greeting area.

Jungkook, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe, adjusts his tie. His leg now bouncing rapidly in complete anxiousness, feeling the stares of a certain someone. He turns to face whoever it is, finding both the bartender and his girlfriend, whose names he was unsure of, staring at him from the bar.

The woman slyly mixes her drink with her stirrer, eyes narrowing at the sight of him, refusing to look away. The man then whispers something to her, making her finally break away from the intense stare.

Jungkook turns back around, the heavy feeling in his chest making it hard to focus on the current performer, not that he really wanted to, but he needed a distraction, something to prevent him from drowning in his own thoughts.

The claps mellow down as the curtains close, the famous club owner, Al, making his way to the front of the stage, mic now in hand. Jungkook felt as if his stomach was doing flips, both excited and nervous to see you, as he knew you’d probably be quick to spot him, only hoping he wouldn’t scare you off.

“She’s got a voice sent from the heavens above, almost as smooth as a Friday’s glass of whiskey,” Al starts off your usual introduction, Jungkook’s heart pounding with every word spoken, “she can sing, she can dance, she can act, she’s a triple threat of course! And to add to it all, she’s got the face of the doll,” the red curtain slowly begins to open, “she’s our newest star in the making, give a warm welcome for Miss Sally Rose!”

A young woman appears from behind the curtain, counting off the same way you always did, making the same exact motion you always do to the band. Jungkook could feel himself become sick as he heard the men begin to holler at her with every piece of clothing that began to drop, as long as they had something to satisfy their lust, it didn’t matter who was on that stage, as they were nothing but animals.

Where the hell were you? This was, no, this is your time slot. Maybe you’re out sick, he tells himself, no, you loved the stage more than anything. The same woman from earlier passes by with drinks in her hands, on her way to serve God knows who. He’s quick to flag her down, hoping she knew where you were, “What can I do for you handsome?” she winks.

“You don’t happen to know where Y/N is?” he politely asks.

The question causes her to scoff, “Oh darling, me and the girls have been wondering the same thing,” she chuckles, before walking away with her drinks, leaving Jungkook much more puzzled than before. Maybe you were late, he excuses, trying not to panic.

But as every performer begins and ends, the more restless he becomes, every drink he takes only causing the echoes from every holler to become more and more irritating, the world around him now spinning.

An hour later, the young woman comes out again, performing the final song of the night, just like you always would do. Truthfully speaking, he would’ve paid no mind to the performance, but something catches Jungkook’s eye. The woman seems to have her gaze fixed on a young man in the crowd, his wife chattering with the other woman sitting next to her. The same way Catherine would—he shakes his head in dismissal, blaming what he was seeing on his drunk state.

He’s quick to get up, deciding that it was best to momentarily take a step outside and catch a breather. You had to be backstage or something, he tells himself, deciding that he’d wait until everyone was gone to see you, just like he always did.

“Things will be just fine,” he whispers, mouth trembling from the cold weather.

Sighing, Jungkook takes one last look at his empty ring finger before making his way back inside, his nerves at an all time high. He knew you were avoiding him, and he knew he was probably the last person you wanted to see, but he needed to tell you that he was sorry. That what he said was something spoken out of anger, that he was hurt, and most importantly that he should’ve believed you.

Walking in, he sees the bartender flipping chairs on top of the table, presumably cleaning up for the night. Most nights, Jungkook would simply go straight backstage, as you had told him early on in the affair that there was no need for him to introduce himself to your co-workers, but tonight, well tonight he felt like an intruder.

He stands there momentarily, the stiffness in the room almost suffocating.

“She’s gone,” the young man bitterly scoffs, not bothering to spare a glance at Jungkook, “I thought you knew that already,” he mumbles to himself, as he continued to flip the wooden chairs and place them atop of the tables, finishing what was left of cleaning.

Jungkook stares at him for a moment, the words slowly processing in his head. What did he mean by you were “gone”? You wouldn’t leave, it was unlike you. Actually, no, you couldn’t leave, where did you have to go?

He shakes his head in dismissal, shooting the brown haired man a quizzical look, “What did you say again?'" he asks. Namjoon finally looks up from what he’s doing.

Jungkook expected a spiteful glare from Namjoon, one full of hatred for what he had done to his friend, but instead his eyes were hard-rimmed and fixed, immobile as the rest of his face. Almost as if he was studying Jungkook. The cold blank look on his face sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine, but he relents on breaking the cold stare, until finally Namjoon lets out a dry laugh.

“I knew you were a hard-headed person,” he nods his head in dismay, a superficial grin on his face, “you’re also a selfish one, so I should’ve known better,” he laughs again, in awe of how someone could be so … inconsiderate? Was that the word to describe Jungkook? Namjoon thought to himself, why were you so in love with this man, simply finding it hard to believe that you could fall for a man so self-centered.

“Haven’t you noticed by now that she’s been replaced?” Namjoon mocks, “or let me guess you thought you could waltz in here like a knight in shining armor, that she was on some kind of break or something and would forget the things you said, and then things would magically go back to normal,” Jungkook remains silent, “Well?” Namjoon deadpans.

“Y/N wouldn’t just leave like that,” Jungkook says, “it’s not like her,” Namjoon was lying, he had to be.

Namjoon shrugs, “Well guess what she’s gone, I could only wish I knew where. She just grabbed her things and left without a trace, no goodbye, no nothing, but go ahead, look for yourself,” Namjoon makes a motion towards your old dressing room.

Slowly Jungkook breaks eye contact, unsure of what to believe. Quietly he makes his way to the dressing room he’d been in a countless number of times in the past year, still in denial of what Namjoon just told him.

He lets out a deep breath before turning the door knob, a churning feeling in his stomach as he recalled the last time he was here, his words ringing in his head.

Immediately Jungkook feels his heart plummet as he sees the empty room, your vanity which was once full of makeup and bottled perfumes was now vacant of anything and the hangers which were once used for your extravagant outfits as well as your fluffy coats now hung unused.

Jungkook crouches to pick up the only thing that remained of you in the room, the golden glass-framed picture you had of yourself performing now shattered on the floor, a small snapshot of the star you were. He smiles in reminiscence, remembering the night the photo was taken, and how you kept rambling on about why Jungkook would spend so much to have the photo of someone like yourself taken, let alone a photo of your worst angle. But you had kept it nonetheless, hell you even hung it on the wall for safekeeping, only for it to be shattered by the same person who gifted it.

“You didn’t!” you gasp, picking up the framed photo which had been placed on your vanity desk, “When did you even take—how—” Jungkook quickly shuts you up by cupping your face, and giving you a kiss, immediately squishing your cheeks in the playful manner that he always did.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, “I thought since you didn’t want to accept my gift last time, a sincere one like this would be something you just couldn’t deny.”

“Those pearls were too much,” you shake your head in disapproval, “and you know why I couldn’t accept it,” the image of Catherine pops in your head as he remains silent, but you’re quick to shrug it off, “but this,” you say, waving the picture he had seen a plenty of times before tonight to his face, “this is special,” you grin.

“I knew you’d love it,” he smiles, giving you another peck on the lips.

“Honestly, you shouldn't have,” you laugh, still in disbelief of the photo of yourself. Hell, to have a portrait of yourself taken behind a plain old wall was already something expensive here in New York, and so to have a photo taken of yourself while performing was truly indescribable. “Too bad they got my worst angle,” you complain, causing him to roll his eyes. Grabbing the framed photo from your hands, he places it over the empty nail on the wall.

“Won’t you look at that,” he smiles, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you now silently admiring the hung photo.

“Jungkook?” you break the prolonged silence.

He hums in response, turning his head to face you, your heart feeling as swelled as the ocean once near its moon.

“I—” you pause, just get the words out, you think to yourself. Maybe things would finally change. He stares at you in the same doe-eyed expression he always did whenever he was attentively listening to you, curious as to what you were thinking, “I just wanted to say thank you… for the photo,” you awkwardly smile, Jungkook slightly raising his eyebrow at your sudden behavior, but he doesn’t dwell on it too much, instead placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

The memory being one for a lifetime.

Jungkook dusts off the glass fragments, carefully trying not to cut himself as his fingers graze over the flimsy developed photo. And as he studies the photo, the realization finally hits him, you were really gone.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispers to himself in a distant, quiet, lifeless voice, “I’ll be just fine,” he grazes the photo again, slowly crouching into his knees, photo still in hand, until finally the sounds of silent muffled sobs is the only thing that can be heard from your dressing room.

Namjoon quietly sweeps the floor, humming some Duke Ellington, trying his best to ignore the thoughts that lingered in the back of his mind. Jungkook had left hours ago, Namjoon having heard the silent cries from your dressing room, and for a slight second even making eye contact with the red puffy-eyed man as he left, who had been mumbling inaudible things to himself.

He didn’t think he’d cry, was what Namjoon had first thought to himself after hearing Jungkook silently sob in your empty dressing room. He honestly expected Jungkook to do anything but cry, hell Namjoon had even told himself to be ready to throw some punches just in case he tried anything stupid.

And so to see Jeon Jungkook, the man who had been coming to this bar for the past year, never failing to order a classic gin and tonic, and always seeming like he was on top of the world, break down in a tiny isolated room, was almost something unimaginable. And for some reason it bothered Namjoon. It wasn’t that Jungkook wasn’t allowed to cry...

Namjoon momentarily stops what he’s doing, sighing in frustration.

It bothered him because it went against everything he thought of Jungkook, the image he had created for Jungkook in his head. It would mean that Jungkook was someone who never meant to be so selfish, but was someone who was emotionally blind to those around him.

And isn’t the unknown always a bit scary?

The only problem was that being blind was something involuntary, and with the countless stories you’d tell Namjoon from time to time, sometimes it seemed like Jungkook was voluntarily choosing to ignore the feelings of those around him.

Namjoon could only speculate why, but maybe, just maybe Jungkook was the kind of person who had long ago put his personal feelings aside to please those around him, including his wife, thinking that it’d be what was best.That he could live a numbing life as long as it meant those around him were satisfied, that it was enough to feel fulfilled with, until you came into the mix.

And once you did, the conflict of choosing what made him happy versus what made others happy while trying to spare both sides’ feelings and opinions, only did more harm than good, stupidly choosing to blindly believe of a false letter.

And now Jungkook was left with no one but himself.

Was it deserved? Namjoon was unsure now. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N, Namjoon thinks to himself.

The only reason he would excuse your actions was because to those around you, seeing you happy was like the sun shining after a storm, a shine so bright you’d think those happy days would last forever, but to see you sad, it was as if the world would storm on end.

But what Namjoon should’ve realized was that at the end of the day, what you and Jungkook had done was wrong, and there was no denying it.

Hell, it even went against Namjoon’s personal beliefs. Of course it didn’t mean that he was no better of a person because the same way you two had to face the karma of your actions, he and Mina would have to reprimand themselves one day as well for excusing your actions. For allowing things to have gotten this far.

“Jungkook really did love you,” he whispers to himself, shaking his head at the conclusion of this awful tale.

Namjoon sighs.

All he could do was hope that he had done the right thing lying to Jungkook about your whereabouts, and that the next time Namjoon saw you, you’d be the successful woman you were always meant to be, and that this period in your life would be nothing more than a small chapter to look back at.

“Ticket ma’am,” the conductor approaches you. Pulling out your ticket from your purse, you allow the conductor to both inspect and punch the ticket with his rustic clipper, “Now what is a pretty New York doll like you going all the way to the city of Los Angeles for?” he chimes, “You sure you ain’t lost little lady?” he jokes, causing you to laugh.

“I sure ain’t, I’m going to Los Angeles to follow my dreams in becoming famous! You might even catch me on the big screen soon!” you gush, causing him to let out a chuckle.

“Well little lady, I’ve heard that one before and I’ve told every single person I’ve come across that it’s almost impossible,” he mentions, “And I have yet to be proven wrong,”

“Well Mr,” you glance at his name tag, “Rosco, you better remember my name and face because I’m going to make it big in Hollywoodland, I don’t care if it’s as a singer or as an actress, but just you wait!” you declare, a toothy grin plastered on your face.

“Well little miss,” he glances at the ticket which has your name printed in a red colored font, “y/n, I’ve gotta say, I don’t think I’ve met anyone with the same amount of enthusiasm you got going for yourself,” a genuine smile comes across his face as he returns you your ticket, “I wish you nothing but the best on your endeavors,” he compliments, before making his way to the seated passenger in front of you.

Looking out the train’s window, the fields of grass along with the bright blue sky that were being passed by faster than a speeding bullet, for some reason make you feel a longing for home, it was probably because everything was barely hitting you. From the moment he had said what he did in your argument, everything onward had been nothing but a sporadic adrenaline-rushed blur.

“Jungkook?” you ask to an empty room, the shakiness of your voice coming to realize the reality of what has just occurred. The sinking feeling in your chest was what could only be described as heartbreak, though it felt like so much more.

He’s coming back, he’s going to come back. He has to come back, you keep repeating to yourself. Jungkook loves you. He didn’t mean what he said. He couldn’t.

You stare at the photo you had hung on the wall, which was now cracked on the floor, a result at just how harsh the door had been slammed. You could feel the lump in your throat beginning to take its form, but you refuse to let it out. He’s coming back, he has to.

The sound of the door knob twisting quickly grabs your attention, a feeling of relief washing over you. You knew he’d come back. You were his girl, you were the love of his life.

But just as quick as the relief had come, it had left even faster once you saw that the person you thought walking through that door was in fact not Jungkook, but Namjoon who stood there in silence, trying to hide the look of pity on his face. “Y/N…” he whispers in sadness.

“N-No,” your lips wobble, “No,” you begin to vigorously shake your head in denial, “No!” you quaver out, desperately trying to blink back the floodgate of tears that was begging to be released. Namjoon could feel his gut clench at the hopelessness of the situation, knowing that there was nothing he could possibly do because Jungkook was gone, and he was not coming back.

He watches as the tears slowly begin to freely fall, the silent sobs finally escaping from your mouth. Your chest heaves, until finally a cry so raw comes out of your mouth that you grab onto your vanity chair so that your shaking would not cause you to fall.

Quickly, he makes his way to envelope you in a tight hug, humming small comforting words to your ear despite knowing that you probably weren’t listening. You sob into his chest unceasingly, your hand clutching onto Namjoon’s jacket as he held you in silence, rocking you slowly as your tears soaked his chest, blinking back his own tears. The two of you stand there for what seems like forever, the sound of your muffled sobs filling the air.

The wet mascara that was mixing itself with your tears stinging your eyes, almost as if it was trying to force you to stop crying, but you just couldn’t. With every sob that forced its way out, your chest would rise and fall unevenly as you gasped for breath.

How could he do this? Why? Things weren’t supposed to end like this. Not at all. “Shh, shh,” Namjoon hums, “you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?” he reassures. You wanted to scream, to say something, anything, but nothing could come out. If anything you could feel your lungs scream for oxygen, your airway becoming compressed with every hysterical sob that was let out.

Quickly pushing off Namjoon, you feel as if the world is spinning and that the walls of your dressing room were closing in. You begin to gasp over and over, hysterically tapping on your stomach, “Get this,” you heave out, “Get this off of me!” you breathe out, lifting your dress up, and desperately trying to unknot the corset you were wearing underneath.

Namjoon quickly grabs some scissors from your vanity, cutting the piece of ribbon which held together the piece of fabric that clinched your waist. Immediately, you could feel the air return to your lungs, a feeling of relaxation now washing over you, as the riptide finally mellowed down.

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection across from you, your tears silently falling from your cheeks. Namjoon makes his way behind you, tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, “Hey, listen to me,” he whispers, “you are going to be just fine,” he firmly states.

“Joon?”

“Hm,” he responds.

“Can you,” your voice cracks, “Can you just take me home?” Your question is met with silence because instead he grabs a big oversized coat from your rack and places it over your shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, watching you as you made your way out of the dressing room, for what he knew would be your last time.

Waking up to the feeling of a hand firmly shaking your shoulder, your heavy eyelids struggling to flutter open, the soreness from crying taking its toll. You must’ve fallen asleep during the car ride home, you reason, finally managing to open your eyes completely. You rub your eyes, confused as to where you were because this was definitely not the outside of your apartment building.

In fact, you were outside of Grand Central Terminal, “What the..” you turned to face Namjoon, who had a sad smile on his face, “Joon? What’s,” you falter your words, “What’s going on?” you ask, confusion now overwhelming you.

He lets out a deep sigh of sadness before continuing, “You’re going to California Y/N,” if you had been half-awake before, you certainly weren’t now, quickly jolting forward in shock, “Los Angeles or may I say Hollywoodland to be more specific,” he reiterates, a tiny chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“J-Joon,” you stutter, “you’re crazy!” you sputter, “Absolutely crazy!” you hit his shoulder causing him to let out a yelp in pain.

“Y/N I’m being serious!” he turns and points to the passenger seat of his car, “I even managed to pack most of your things while you were asleep, all the essentials are in those two luggage bags.”

“How did you even—” you shake your head, trying to stay on topic, “Joon I can’t just pack up my things and go, I have—” you hesitate with your next choice of words, what exactly did you have in New York that was holding you back?

Namjoon answers the question before you could, “Nothing. You have absolutely nothing here to hold you back, so why not go chase your dream huh?” he exclaims, “It’s what you’ve always wanted to do Y/N and I’m one hundred percent sure Hollywoodland is looking for a doll face like yours to go shake up the scene,” he laughs, “You can dance, you can sing, and you sure can act, especially those days you wouldn’t want to come into work,” he jokingly mumbles garnering him another slap to the shoulder, “Hey, hey, relax! Point is Y/N, you’re one of the most talented people I know, if not the most talented person I’ve ever met, and it’d be a waste of talent for you not to go out there and show people what you’re made of, Hell I even hear they’re beginning to develop sound films over there, and a voice like yours needs to be memorialized for future generations,” he says, as tears to begin to brim your waterlids.

“But Joon—” you sniffle, “I don't, I don’t have the money to live out there, hell I barely have enough money in my purse to purchase myself a ticket,” you scoff because it was the truth.

“I know you don’t,” he deadpans, causing you to laugh.

“Then?” you chuckle. Slowly, he flips his coat and reaches into its inner pocket, pulling out and handing you what seemed to be a heavy envelope. You peep inside the sealed white envelope, it’s content causing you to let out a small yelp in surprise. There had to be at least 200 dollars in there! You quickly shake your head in disapprovement.

“Joon, no, no, no! You can't. You've been saving up for—!”

“Hey! Listen to me Y/N, look at me,” he demands, grabbing your hands which had been flailing around in denial. “This money right here means absolutely nothing to me if it means that someone like you can get the opportunity to pursue their dreams, especially because I know it’ll mean absolutely everything for you,” he smiles.

“But Joon, you’ve been saving up this money for your wedding for so long, I can’t, Mina’s going to kill you!” you fluster, Namjoon must’ve been going crazy or something. He’d been working so many hours for the past months, doing countless hours of overtime and being on his best behavior for some tips, how could he give it all up for some gamble at fame?

“I’ve already spoken to her about this and she had absolutely no problem with it!” he laughs, “A wedding is nothing but a celebration for a piece of signed paper, it won’t be the end of the world if we wait a little longer,” he reassures, “As long as Mina and I know we’re in this for life, then that piece of paper won’t change anything.”

“Joon I can’t—”

“You can and you will Y/N,” he firmly states, “plus you can always pay me back once you get rich and famous,” he teases, winking at you. “So, what do you say Y/N? You ready to go to Los Angeles?” You stare at him without blinking, a million thoughts racing through your head. This was your dream, the thing you’d spent a countless number of nights only imagining whenever you’d get up on that wooden stage to perform, and now you were finally going to get the chance to make it a reality.

“I don’t,” you hesitate, “I’m,” you feel your skin tingle with the words you’re about to say, now having made your decision, “I’m going to Hollywoodland,” you softly cry out in disbelief, a dimpled grin appearing on Namjoon’s face.

“Atta girl,” tears which weren’t of sadness, anger, but joy now falling from your face, as you quickly pull Namjoon into a hug. Slowly, he breaks away, “Come on, you gotta get going,” he glances at his wrist watch, which read a quarter past nine, “the train leaves half past nine, and I still gotta walk you to the departing area.”

Quickly buttoning up your coat and fixing your hair, you try your best to seem presentable, Namjoon grabbing your luggage from the backseat and exiting the vehicle, as you do the same, but for you it all feels different. Looking up to the building that surrounds the terminal, you soak in the final view of New York which you wouldn't be seeing for who knows how long. Years ago you’d imagine leaving home, but never like this, and for a moment it was as if time slowed down, almost like your brain needed a “photograph” to commemorate this moment,

The man playing on his saxophone outside the station for tips only adding a warm comfort to your fears, a reminiscent sound which was a balm to your mind, a reminder of the nostalgic chapter in your life that you’d look back to, whether it was with a joyful outlook was only for you to decide.

Slowly the two of you begin to walk to the departing area, your legs feeling more and more wobbly with every step you took. This was really happening.

“Here we are,” Namjoon announces, gently placing your luggage on the floor, and then placing hands against his hips in marvel at how gigantic the stationed train was. Your eyes glisten, once again pulling Namjoon into a hug. “You sure are emotional, you know that right?” he teases, causing you to only further tighten the hug.

You pull out the hug, “I’m going to write to you every week, I promise you!” you avow, causing Namjoon to immediately shake his head in disagreement.

“No, no, you have to focus on your career every waking minute Y/N, if anything just save a couple of bucks every month and ring me here and there, I’m always at the club most of the time and it’s not like you don’t know my schedule, plus I’m sure Al won’t charge me for using the telephone machine every once in a while,” he explains, voice slightly wavering, as his eyes were now glossy from trying to hold back his tears causing you to let out a laugh.

“Come on, you know you wanna cry,” you sniffle, pulling him in for another hug.

“Ah, I’m gonna miss you Y/N,” he laughs through his tears, “they don’t make em like you anymore.”

“This is the final boarding call for New York to Los Angeles which includes a stop at Chicago!” the conductor yells out the train, “I repeat, this is the final boarding call for New York to Los Angeles!” Namjoon quickly taps on your shoulders, rushing you to get on board.

Swiftly, you pick up the luggage cases on the floor, and begin to make your way inside the train but not before shouting something to Namjoon, “Hey, I expect to see a pregnant Mina the next time I see you guys, you hear me!” he facepalms himself, his cheeks becoming red at how loudly you announced it.

You quickly run to your seat, looking at Namjoon through the window, who remained where he stood, the train slowly beginning to move, while the conductor pulls the lever for the steam whistle, the final declaration to the new chapter in your life. You anxiously wave to Namjoon one last time, a grand smile on both of your faces, as he waves in return. The (what you assumed) family members of other passengers also waved goodbye, many teary eyed as you could only imagine the stories of everyone else on the train.

Once you were out of eyesight, you made yourself comfortable on your seat, slightly tilting your head against the window, a long unexpected trip now ahead of you.

Los Angeles from what you could currently tell was definitely different than to what you were used to in New York, but beautiful nonetheless. The cab you managed to pin down was currently driving you to the small motel you found on one of the welcoming pamphlets of the city.

Currently, you were being driven down the newly built Sunset Boulevard, where you could only hope you’d be living on sometime in the near future.

“Ah there it is,” the taxi driver points out the window, and immediately a wonderstruck look appears on your face, your heart now pounding in excitement at the sight of the word “Hollywoodland” appearing from the mountains. “Welcome to Los Angeles kid,” the man says, to which you only nod your head in dumbfoundedness, “you better make the most of it.”

“I sure am.”

a/n: i purposely left the ending ambiguous just because i felt like it should be your guys’ imagination as to whether y/n makes it big in hollywood depending on whether you like her or not LOL, so if you don’t like her you could always imagine she flopped or sum, and whatever jungkook does afterward being unknown as well. Catherine a better person than me, cause forgiving a cheater just aint in my heart LMAO.

also I wanted to dive further into namjoon and y/n’s friendship, as well as add a scene where y/n went shopping for her dress but I was burning out and so hopefully I did good conveying the sincerity of their friendship and the importance of the event to y/n + talk more about jk’s and catherine’s families but I think I put enough hints, that you guys would get the point and its effects on them as people.

Feel free to comment, send me a message, or drop an anon! Anything is appreciated & if you can please like and reblog 💘 till next time.

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Method to my madness [Yandere! Switzerland x reader]

Word count: 4,144 Warning: NSFW content later in the fic. There will be a warning line before it starts, and another line to indicate its conclusion. So skip it if you don’t want to read it.

Synopsis: As a stereotypical Swiss, he never did anything unplanned and worshipped punctuality. But when it comes to you, he’d throw that all away and show up to your door unannounced. In another country. And in the middle of the school term. Why? Because he can. Because he doesn’t trust your neighbors, your raunchy one in particular. He was the polar opposite to him—lazy, sloppy, and disorganized. So when he tries to invite you to a party, Basch makes it a point to stop you from going—even if that entails doing exactly what he accused him of. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Crunching numbers occurred to him like second nature. Anything that could be explained in a book, he understood like the back of his hand. In fact, he didn’t have much trouble doing anything at all, but when it came to you, every fiber of his being would clam up. His infallible logic betrayed him like he never had any in the first place. Now was one of those times as he boarded a flight bound for California.

As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he gave the passengers around him a quick study. Already, they were stripping themselves of their outer layers. Windbreakers, jackets, coats, you name it. A middle-aged man removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and with big, bold letters spelled ‘USA’, which popped out around his belly as if to emphasize it. A single thought occurred to him as he looked away with furrowed brows. Tourists.

They had their fun, and were on their way home, starting with preparing for the sweltering heat of Californian Summer. He folded his arms together and sank into his chair. He’d remove his knit later. At the moment, he had a more pressing issue in his hands. What was he supposed to say when he’d show up at your door without notice?

Hi, I felt a dire need to visit you all the way in America in the middle of your semester when I heard you were living in a dorm. But that’s not all. It would’ve been fine until you sent me a selfie with a guy in the background holding a peace sign. Then that other photo showing a different guy using your toaster. Which implies that there are numerous guys living with you. In other words, people I don’t trust alone with you.

So here I am.

Surely, that wouldn’t fly.

You’d known him as a man who had his whole life planned out in a diary. And this was hardly planned. It was spontaneous, even. Basch Zwingli, the stereotypical Swiss who looked at the clock for things to do, was being spontaneous? Hell may as well freeze over at this point. To say this would surprise you was given, but he didn’t see anything wrong with this, per se. He probably would’ve done this to Lilli, but the thing was, he wouldn’t have ever let her study abroad by herself in the first place.

She was his baby sister, but you weren’t. And that was probably why he was at your doorstep. He couldn’t oppose your choice of study, but he could sure as hell be part of it.

He knocked a few times. He could barely make out the faint ‘just a second!’, but the sound of the voice was so familiar, he froze up. But that wasn’t quite right. Hearing Lilli’s voice never made him feel this way. The door creaked open to reveal a less than presentable girl in her pajamas, an oversized shirt, and she had the messy bed hair to go with it.

And when you saw who your visitor was, the droop in your eyes disappeared.

“Basch!? Oh my god--what are you--” You could barely talk as disbelieving laughs fell from your lips. “I can’t believe it’s you! I almost couldn’t recognize your face because I didn’t expect you at all!” Reaching out to give him a tight embrace, he returned the gesture with a gentler hug.

His arms were slow to wrap around your form, but to even have your affection reciprocated at all spoke volumes of how he was feeling. It had been nearly half a year since he saw you last, and to realize he was spoiling himself with an unannounced visit sent chills down his spine. He really was pushing the envelope with this one. But he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t regret this at all.

When you pulled away, he caught you gleaming at him with the brightest of smiles. It was so infectious, he felt a light tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m here if that convinces you.”

You grinned. “What are you even doing here? My break doesn’t start until a month later! But I can say this is a good time you caught me in. I only have one more final to pull through.” Pulling him into your humble abode, you barely made it into the hallway when you failed to hear the sound of wheels. So you paused. “... Basch, where’s your stuff?”

Confusion contorted at your expression, but you looked more worried than anything. It would’ve made sense if he was planning to stay at a hotel, but that wasn’t possible. He’d rather sleep on the ground than spend hundreds of dollars for accommodation, and what was the point of visiting if he wasn’t under the same roof as you? He tensed up as he confronted how truly out of character he’d been acting.

Shit. Even he was shocked that he failed to bring the most fundamental of things for this trip. When he bought his ticket, nothing went through his mind besides the need to see you. It took up so much of his brain, it managed to block out the concept of a suitcase. Packing for a trip that was to last for months. How was he supposed to explain himself? “... They lost my suitcase on the way here.” Perfect.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you nodded in understanding. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure they’ll find it for you, though. Otherwise, they’re gonna have one hell of a lawsuit.”

“... But where’s Lilli?”

Why was his sister not with him when they were practically sewed together by the hip? And for such an important visit, no less. But he came prepared in case you’d ask. “Lilli’s not here because she had school. And I saw that tickets were the cheapest during this time so I decided to come early.”

At the sound of that, any traces of worry left your face and you burst into a fit of laughter.

“Of course you did, you cheapskate. I was always wondering which trait of yours was the strongest, but now I know.” Blood rushed up to his cheeks and he forced himself to look away. But when he felt your hands settle on his shoulders, he slowly turned to you. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to regret that action, because in that very second, he realized he was wrapped around your finger.

“I’m just kidding, Basch. There’s nothing wrong with saving money. And if that means you get to visit early, I’ll love you for it.” You cracked a tender smile at him this time around, and seeing that look on your face while listening to you talk had him wondering if he was even breathing at that point.

It was almost terrifying how easily he could lose his head around you. And he thought he had a good one on his shoulders. Everyone did. How come he could barely even think straight when it came to you?

“... Right.” He tipped his head forward to let his bangs fall in front of his face. It was a gesture that was almost shy in nature, but his action revealed a small ponytail on the back of his head, which of course, stole your attention away in an instant.

You gasped to emphasize the discovery. “Aw, did you tie your hair up? It looks so good! Everyone’s gonna be asking about you now!” Giving him a teasing elbow, you watched his expression morph into dismay. “Hey, I promise it’s a good kind of curiosity. College has us all swarmed and we’re dying for something out of the ordinary. My friends will be excited to meet you!”

“Why, because I’m… European?”

“Are you asking that because I complimented your hair?” He heard a soft snort from you. “I’m from the same town as you, dummy. I think I’d count as European as well. But that’s probably what they’ll be so interested about.” That was right. “If they find out about you, they won’t stop asking about if we’re… You know what.” Your voice strained a little and you looked embarrassed, even.

He blinked. For someone so high-strung about you, he could sometimes miss the key points.

“I’m having a hard time following. About what?”

You sighed and pushed his cheeks together to muffle his words. “Why do you always have to make me say everything, hm? They’ll obviously ask if we’re dating. You’ve never met them because they always go elsewhere during the break, but everyone will be here this time.”

By everyone, he assumed that included peace-sign guy and toaster-leeching guy. Immediately, he frowned with the most potent kind of disdain he ever felt. To think they spent most of the year with you was almost disheartening. But he didn’t need to remind himself they were the reason he was here. Basch could admit he was an oblivious person at times, but he wasn’t ignorant to the promiscuous sex life in college. The men here were wolves, so he had to see for himself if he could really leave you alone here.

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be leaving your side anytime soon.

If that was going to give your friends the wrong idea, or perhaps, the right idea about you two, then so be it. He even wanted them to assume things. Even if he didn’t think much of it, flying all the way here for an impromptu visit was more than enough to get mouths moving.

He had yet to be on the same page as them. To realize that maybe, what he was doing wasn’t because you were like a little sister to him--like Lilli--someone to be protected. Or rather, someone he had strong feelings for. But given enough time around these so-called friends of yours, he’d learn it the hard way. And who better to press his buttons than your raunchy next-door neighbor?

The day after his unexpected arrival, he’d encounter this very neighbor who found the leisure in swinging by for a visit. Basch had his hands full with dishes in the sink when a few knocks were heard. He was generous enough to make lunch and clean up, though you had to wonder if doing chores was how he’d repay the debt from all the things you had to buy for him.

He never moved from where he stood as he could already hear you scrambling to answer the door. When it creaked open, a low and playful laugh greeted you. “There’s my girl.” My what now? Turning his head to the newcomer, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw a man lean in from the doorframe. Said man reached out to give your hair an affectionate ruffle, and immediately, Basch decided he didn’t like him.

“Mornin’. Did ya eat yet? I was gonna go to a cafe for some grub. The one that has those killer vegan pancakes. Wanna come with?”

You hummed in disappointment. “Sorry, Al. I just ate. Maybe if you came in a little earlier, I would’ve been able to come.” Placing your hands on your hips, you placed emphasis on what you later added. “It’s two.”

No, he hated him. From that brief exchange and study of his physical appearance, he knew he was practically the polar opposite of him. A lazy, good-for-nothing slob. He had two full sleeves of tattoos. Piercings decorated one of his eyebrows, and as he spoke, he saw a small silver ball on his tongue. His fiery red hair wasn’t even long, but it was still unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t bother checking the mirror. But then again, he did greet you with ‘morning’. Basch tightened his ponytail and made his way over to you, disgruntled. “...”

Sensing his presence by your side, you patted him on the back. “This is Basch, by the way. The friend I told you about.” When you exchanged looks with Basch, your smile faltered when you saw his expression. He looked almost upset, though you hadn’t the faintest idea why.

You figured you’d ask later.

The stranger was fast to acknowledge him, and with great enthusiasm at that. “Ohh, you’re the dude who flew over from Finland or something!” His striking ruby eyes widened with fascination, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, you’re pretty high-strung bout’ her, aren’t you? Makes the two of us.”

High-strung about you? Of course, he was--whatever the hell that meant. “... Switzerland.” The blonde clarified, to where Allen merely shrugged. “Close enough.”

While you laughed off his playful jibes and apparent forgetfulness, Basch couldn’t humor him. Between him and your neighbor, they were probably completely serious about the high-strung bit. He could tell in that brief side-eye Allen gave him, almost as if he was trying to stir some kind of reaction.

So be it. Two could play at this game. Unbeknownst to your raunchy friend, Basch could be just as outspoken.

“Anyways--” Rolling his head to you, Allen shot you an expectant look. “So… What’s your answer, doll? To the party this Friday? Is it a yes or a yes?”

“She’s not going.”

Your lips separated agape to answer, but he beat you to it. His invitation was shot down just like that. Shock widened your eyes and you gawked at Basch. You knew how protective he could get, exceedingly so, but it never got to the point of canceling plans without discussion.

“What do you mean, I’m not going? Basch, it’s fine!” You exasperated, but his only response was to squeeze your hand.

Something was wrong, for sure.

“... Yeah, it’s not like anything‘s gonna happen. Not when I’m around. So what’s the big idea, man?” Allen folded his arms disapprovingly. A shrewd light glinted in his eyes when he was struck with an idea. “If you’re so worried, you can just come with. Even though you’re not her boyfriend—”

Basch felt himself go red in the face. From both anger and mortification—because Allen was right.

“... Fine. I will go with her.” He relented, albeit reluctantly. Hardening his stare at the tanned figure, someone who sounded more persistent than he liked, he let his tongue slip. “And it doesn’t matter I’m not her boyfriend. I’m still her best friend, and I care about her more than you do.”

It was a given from how long you’ve been this close to him. But that didn’t change the fact blurting that out was unlike him. It left you in a blushing tizzy to hear him explicitly say those things, and you grew hyper-aware of his iron grip on your hand.

Being protective was one thing. But when was he possessive?

Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You can flex that label all you want.” Making a move to leave by turning his feet, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I don’t want it. Not when a better label’s up for grabs. Boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Shooting you a wink to reduce you into a stuttering mess, he took his leave.

And when he did, Basch lost his shit.

“How long have you been friends with that guy? Can’t you see he’s just trying to get into your pants? He’ll probably stop being so nice to you once he does!” He fumed, taking both your hands into his as if to secure you in place. But really, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you were about to receive the biggest lecture of your life. “You can’t hang around people like that, (F/N). You can’t trust him.”

You hung your head as a frown downturned your features. There was some truth to his words, especially when the man he spoke so ill of was a fairly new friend of yours. It was a shame to say the least because you did like having him around, but that wasn’t the biggest concern of yours at the moment. “You’re right… Kinda… I just really liked him as a friend, so I didn’t wanna say no…”

That didn’t come out right.

He thinned his lips as a grim expression contorted at his face. “... Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head profusely. “No! God, no, of course not! Sorry, I put it weirdly. Nothing happened, really.”

Basch sighed, reaching out to pinch the bridge of his nose.

His bangs fell over his eyes to hide them. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this worked up over you, over a guy at that, but then again, he was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than that. “... Okay. So are you gonna go to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll probably go if you come with me, so…” With your free hand, you held onto the hem of his shirt. When he caught sight of the look you had on your face, he stopped breathing all over again. “I can tell something’s wrong with you. You looked really upset just then, and it’s not like you to just snap like that.”

He released you to dig through his hair, loosening the once tight strands pulled back in his ponytail.

That was right. Since when was he so possessive?

So jealous?

He bit his lip and looked positively defeated. As he fixated on the ground to avoid your gaze, he felt your hand gently cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you to suddenly show up out of the blue, either. So tell me, why did you actually come here?”

Basch furrowed his brows and screwed his eyes shut. “... I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” You softened your gaze at that, feeling your chest swell up with warmth. He was always brutally honest, but he was more ambiguous when it came to how he felt.

So to hear him admit his troubles so easily had you almost worried about him.

As if he sensed this worry, he offered you a small smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry about me. I swear there’s nothing wrong.”

Or that was what he wished, at least, because he was far from okay.

To make things worse, Allen wasn’t patient enough for today because he dropped by two more times after meeting Basch for the first time. Nearly a week had passed since then. This only proved his suspicions—that all he wanted was to get in your pants—and it left Basch positively restless. So restless that he couldn’t leave you alone.

It was finally Friday, and you were in your room browsing for outfits for the night. The man was sleeping like a log in your bed, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, you decided to change with him in the room. How he ended up in your sheets wasn’t anything out of character, per se.

In the previous few days, he followed you around everywhere you went. That, you were perfectly fine with, but sleeping in your bed? He was pushing it. Despite your valiant efforts to get him back into the guest room, it was unparalleled to his own determination. What could you say? He was as stubborn as a mule. That statement would manifest into reality as he stirred awake.

Sitting up with the worst bed hair you’d ever seen, you found yourself covering your chest instinctively as he stared dead into your eyes with his own drooping ones. “Basch! Sorry, um, I couldn’t wake you so I decided to just…” Blood rushed up to your cheeks as he continued to stare, wordlessly. “Basch?”

You watched him slide off the mattress and saunter over. Holding your wrists and lowering them, he exposed your bra, but he never gave you the chance to complain. Instead, he loomed his head over yours and glowered at you. “You’re not going.”

Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when his hot breath fanned over your lips, and you were much too taken aback by his closeness to object. In fact, his face was so close, his nose was brushing against yours. “Wait, what are you--” Your whispers were cut off abruptly when he sealed your mouth with his.

He was kissing you. Albeit innocently as he parted frequently, pecking your lips over and over again. As gentle as he was, he still left you breathless, but flustered and confused all the same. But you didn’t have the heart to push him off you as your mind raced with questions. Why was he doing this? Had he always felt this way? There was a tenderness in his touch that told you he had.

But why didn’t he ever tell you?

When he finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed against yours. “Just tell him you’re not interested.” He frowned. “Say you already have a boyfriend. I’ll pretend if I have to.”

Because he’d been denying it.

“But--” Basch kissed you again, leaving a silvery strand of saliva connecting your lips as he parted. Your chest was rising and falling in a fervent manner as you struggled to breathe--the same plight he’d been facing for a while. Frankly speaking, you were at a loss from how much control you let him have over you. But you never tried to push him away. At this point, the throbbing in your chest had completely shattered your resolve. “--why are you kissing me if we’re pretending? There’s nobody here but us.”

His cheeks reddened before he tugged you along to your bed. Seating you on his lap, he attached his hands to your waist and squeezed it, making you yelp out in surprise. “If you’re letting me kiss you, then how are we pretending?” You blushed at that, realizing you had just as much of a part to blame.

Leaning in at that, he fanned his breath over your lips. “It just means it’s real.”

He still wasn’t processing the weight of his actions and just how out of line he was acting. But then again, he never did either of those things when it came to you. And it wasn’t like you were stopping him, either. So really, you were just as guilty for letting things go out of hand. Though you had to wonder if this was how things were supposed to be, especially when you continued kissing him in his lap.

*NSFW content ahead*

Said kissing escalated along with the heat of your bodies, all until he had his tongue in your mouth.

He never realized how much he’d wanted this until he had you under him, squeezing his neck as he left lovebites all over yours. Then, he made his way down to your shoulder and collarbones, chewing on your flesh until he memorized the taste of you. But he couldn’t say he was satisfied. Not until he truly crossed your boundaries and went all the way.

That was where this was going, after all.

Rather than going to that party Allen invited you to, you spent the whole night having sex with Basch. To say it was a psychedelic experience was an understatement.

As he held you down to make love to you, letting his arousal curve deep into your walls at every strong thrust he gave, he had you writhing in pleasure so good, the last remnants of your sound mind were completely destroyed. So while you would’ve been fussing about the fact he didn’t use any protection, you couldn’t, not when he fucked you silly.

To him, this was a culmination of everything he wanted. To have you for himself. And this rampant desire was so potent, it inundated him. Tugging apart the strands that held his self-control and reason together, he lost his head.

You never imagined he’d be so energetic and reckless in bed, even cumming inside you, twice, on purpose, when he was always so high-strung about safety. But as you found yourself on his thighs again, trembling as you sunk down to the base of his cock, you could watch him unravel with all sorts of animated expressions you’d never seen before.

Desperation, lust, and an aggressive infatuation as he bounced you on his imposing member. Bringing you close so he could bite your ear, you could hear the shivering in his breathing as he held back his moans. “You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes...” He whispered.

*NSFW content ends*

That was the first time you ever heard him curse, too. So maybe, you really were driving him crazy. This would become more apparent the next morning as he slept in past noon, something he hadn’t done in years.

And depending on if you’d remember or not, he’d buy you some morning-after pills.

Because something happening wasn’t a big concern of his.

In fact, it excited him.

#hetalia fanfiction #aph #aph switzerland #aph switzerland x reader #reader insert #x reader #switzerland x reader #yandere #yandere hetalia #yandere!switzerland #yandere switzerland #hetalia fanfic #hws switzerland #Axis Powers Hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア

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anjanettexcordonia · 4 years

Text

Ties That Bind

**Trigger Warnings**

DARK DARK DARK

-NSFW/Mental Health/Violence/Rape Minimal fluff if any at all tbh.

***If you are sensitive to any of these please do not read.

Pairing: Liam x MC, Liam x Riley, Drake x Olivia

Word Count: 4,189 (I know its forever long but its worth it in my biased opinion)

This is my first time writing any kind of fiction. I was inspired by all of you amazing writers! I received positive feedback on this chapter so I’m hoping you all like it too! Its very dark and very very twisted. I can not emphasize it enough.

**READ WITH CAUTION**

Excuse any grammatical errors or misspellings.

This will be a six part series. I do not have a timeline for when I will post. (I’m a mom & work full time)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

“Riley it’s time to go, My Queen.” Liam yells from the first floor of their quarters. “Drake & Olivia are already almost to Lythikos with our children and we are still at the palace! Let’s goooooo my love!”

Riley & Liam were preparing to head to their Valtorian Estate for a night before heading to the United States for a week long excursion at their Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. The Biltmore was their American private residence. Left to her after the death of her mother. They went twice a year just the two of them. Their children had never stepped foot on the property. Much less America. Riley hated America. She used the country only to satiate her needs. Her father and sister never visited the Biltmore Estate. Her father primarily lived in his penthouse in New York. Her sister never left their childhood home in the Hamptons. The Biltmore was hers to do with as she pleased.

Riley and Liam make their way down to a blacked out Cadillac Escalade waiting for them in the Royal private exit of the garage.

“Liam, let’s call Drake & Olivia one more time before we get to Valtoria. You know after tonight we won’t be communicating with anyone for a full week.” Riley winked at Liam.

My God this woman is my everything. How did I survive without her? Liam thought.

Liam pulls out his iPhone and scrolls to Olivia's name and hits call.

“Yes your majesty,” Olivia purrs into the phone.

“Hello Liv, just checking on the kids. You and Drake know Riley and I will be incognito for a week. Remember if it’s an emergency reach out to Hana and Maxwell. Do not contact us unless it’s literally life or death.” Drake yells through the phone, “Li we do this twice year every year since the first little squirt you two brought home. We got this. By the way what exactly do you guys do in America that you’ve never told us?”

“This trio is a joy. They are perfectly fine. Uncle Max is on his way with Auntie Hana. This should be a Mary Poppins nightmare.” Olivia chuckled.

“It’s just our special time. Not as King and Queen of Cordonia but as husband and wife. That’s all.” Riley replies. Liam squeezing Riley’s thigh at her smirk, knowing full well that wasn’t exactly true.

“Tell our babies we love them, and take care of and protect them while we’re gone. Don’t let Max feed them too much sugar. They will never sleep!”

Always,” Drake softly spoke, “Uncle Drake and Aunt Livvy are going to show them how fun we really are!” Ellie squeals in the background at her Uncle.

Liam & Riley end the call with a sigh of relief. This trip was going to be catalyst. They both knew they were coming back to Cordonia forever changed.

Three hours later Valtoria came into view. The sun was beginning to set over the cascading waterfall behind the large castle. Riley and Liam had been catching up on last minute emails before they arrived. They had an understanding between each other that during their two weeks a year no work was allowed. No cellphones other than 1 for emergencies only. No laptops no tablets of any sort. They completely unplug.

Bastien stopped the suv in front of the large estate. Liam hopped out running around to hold the car door open for his wife. HIS Queen.

Gladys met them outside the door.

“Your majesties” Gladys dipped into a low curtsy.

“Hello Gladys” Liam replied. Is everything ready for our stay tonight and departure in the morning?”

“It is.” Is there anything else Your Majesty requests?”

“No thank you Gladys.”

As they walk towards the entrance of the large French Gothic style castle, Liam scoops Riley into his arms bridal style and walks her across the threshold.

“Good night everyone. Gladys have our usual chicken tangine, apple butter bread, balava & chocolate cake left in the kitchen. Everyone is excused for the rest of the night.”

Gladys nodded her head at her King’s command and curtsied as he walked up the grand staircase.

“Thank you, Gladys!” Riley yelled down at her.

Gladys and Bastien both knew what that meant. Get out now. Do not come back until sunrise under any circumstances. Gladys and Bastien were the only two who knew. And also who knew why.

Liam carried his bride to their suite. Their bedroom at Valtoria was protected. They had it modified during their engagement. No one was allowed entrance. Gladys was the only person granted entrance for 2 hours to clean after each visit. And only under the watchful eye of the Queen herself. This belonged to them. They maintained this room. Not staff. Not like the palace.

The entrance of the door was built almost as a panic room. A large heavy blast proof door protected the entrance. A Handprint scan of both the King and Queen were the only way of access to their master suite. That entire room was reinforced. It was safe. Nothing and no one was coming through to hurt them. If they ever needed protection, this is where they would bring their family. For now, it wasn’t for their family. It was a source of healing and triumph. It was terror and torture. It was love and pain.

Most of the other service members believed they were simply paranoid. Ruling a country you had a right to be paranoid, is what they told themselves when they walked by the master suite. Some were curious about what was behind that heavy steel door. No one ever attempted to sneak peek. They knew better. No one could explain it, as the king and Queen were very kind and fair people, there was a vibe or an energy that everyone could feel from them. It was uncomfortable. Sometimes there was no emotion from either of them. Hollow blank stares & flat monotone voices. That rarely happened. And when it did, their week vacation was close. Whatever they did during those 2 weeks out of the year made them better each time.

🍈

Liam flashes his million dollar smile down at his wife as they enter. His manhood already dancing in its confines. They enter their bedroom and swiftly close the door. Their bedroom in Valtoria is for them. And them only. No one including their children are granted access. And for good reason. The master suite of Valtoria has a large four-poster bed. Above the bed hung a large medal bar suspended from the ceiling with leather arm straps. arm and ankle straps hung from each corner of the bed. The walls were adorned with shelves of Belts, gags, riding crops and rope. There were shelves of weapons large & small daggers and swords.

The walls were a deep maroon. It was still exceptionally regal but with a darker contrast. This is not a place most people would be comfortable walking into. Most people except the King & Queen of Cordonia.

Liam kicked the door shut with a force that made the door trim rattle. He tossed his Queen on to the bed, climbing on top of her. He pulled her full lips into his mouth and breathed her in. He could never get enough of her. How did he survive without her? Without her touch? Her voice? Her scent? He never needed anyone except her. Only her. Forever her. No one could calm him like she could. She was his safe house and his haven. He could do things with and to her no one else could understand. Her crystal blue eyes darkened into the depths of the ocean only for him. He knew her. He was her. They were one. Not only in marriage but spirit and soul. They were connected.

Riley stared up at her husband taking in every perfect feature and every invisible flaw, only flaws she could see. Only flaws she could love. She understood him. She never had to ask why. She was never afraid. It was Game, Set, Match the first time she locked eyes with his deep dark painful eyes. She could sense him before she ever knew him. Her long honey blonde hair pooled around her head as she sank into his fiery kiss. He was the only man she ever willingly kissed. The only man she allowed to ever touch her body. He worshipped her. He was her breath. She couldn’t breathe without him filling her lungs. He filled the deepest parts of her. Parts only he knew existed. Parts that were created not born. Evil. In every sense of the word.

Fourteen Year Old Riley.

“Mother, why are you crying?” Riley watches her mother standing in her large walk-in closet pouring herself another drink.

“Just go away Katherine Riley.” Ashley sighed. Riley could her the sadness in her voice. Usually her mother just ignored her.

“Mother I..I.. I think it’s best we all stay at school for the summer this year.”

“I SAID GO THE FUCK AWAY! WHAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THAT?”

Riley felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she quickly turned to walk away.

“Wait Katie” Ashley sighed. “It’s time we had a conversation. You're old enough now & after the things you’ve seen and heard throughout your life, it won’t come as much of a surprise to you, I believe.” Riley turned around. Eyeing her mother not sure what to make of this conversation.

“Your father & I had what you would call an arranged marriage per se. People of our status in life, it’s not uncommon. We dated some. A short while I suppose. Coming from the families that we do it’s important to ensure that our wealth will always continue to grow, we married after a few months of dating.” Ashley took a long sip of her gin & tonic. “To our parents' delight. Not ours. Not mine.”

“Immediately after we married things changed. I was a virgin & I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to love my husband first. He stole that from me in the most horrific of ways. And you were the product of that. When I look at you, that’s all I see. I see violence, blood and stolen innocence. Each of your siblings were the products of the same. Violent and brutal attacks. Each time left me broken. After the last assault he shattered my pelvis and ruptured my cervix. I can no longer bear children. That’s all each of you are to me. Your father is evil. An evil which you’ve never known. Next time he will kill me. I’m leaving tonight.”

Riley stood stunned. Trying to wrap her mind around what this woman in front of her has told her. She couldn’t understand. She knew her father tortured her mother. She had her the screams and the slams at night. She saw the blood stained carpets and walls in the stairwell in their Hamptons beach house. She knew her father was evil. All too well. Ashely has no idea the hell her children had been going through. He tormented them as well. He would sneak into her room in the middle of the night when the screams finally ended and watch her. Her brothers never spoke of their trauma but she knew it was there.

“Can we come with you Mother?”

“No.”

“Can you wait until after my birthday? It’s tomorrow Mother?”

Riley wasn’t sure why that memory had flashed through her mind. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

“What is it Riley?”

“I was thinking of the night before he killed her. Random I guess.” Liam leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“My King” Riley sighed, holding his forearms in her grasp.

“Yes My Queen?”

“Are we prepared for our return to the estate?” She asked, leaning into to bite his shoulder as he hovered over.

“We are. Our gifts are already waiting for us. They were delivered this morning. They are being fed and groomed as we speak my love. I’m ready for our warm-up before the real work begins.”

Riley’s stomach groaned.

“I’m ready. We can eat when we’re finished.”

🍋

Liam pulled Riley to her feet. He tugged her top above her head. He was thankful she wasn’t wearing a bra. He leaned down taking a taut pink nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge until it was a hardened peak. He showed the same attention to the other nipple. Riley pulled Liams t-shirt over his head. She always worshipped her playground. She licked her way between each sculpted ab. Liam gripped her hair as she slid his sweatpants to the floor. She leaned on her knees engulfing his engorged length in her mouth while she swirled her tongue all the way down his shaft. She slowly eased him out of her mouth and stood back up.

“Fuck Riley”

“I just needed to taste you my King.”

Liam bit his bottom lip as he pulled her sweatpants down. Leaving her lacy black thong on her hips.

They walked hand in hand to the large bathroom. The bathroom sleek and modern. Liam felt the warmth of the heated floors on his feet as he lifted his Queen into the tub. He grabbed a bottle of baby oil off the counter. He poured a generous amount into his hands and covered Riley’s body in oil. He gently lifted her from the tub carrying her back to the bedroom. He climbed the small steps on to the bed standing on the mattress. Riley lifted her arms into the arm straps suspended from the high ceiling. Baby oil kept her skin protected and also made it more of a challenge for them.

Once she was firmly secured into the arm and ankle restraints with only the medal bar for her to grip onto, Liam stepped off the bed.

“My Queen, what pray tell interests you tonight?”

“Torture me Liam”

“As you wish my Queen, safe word?”

“Celeste My King”

Liam smirked at her chosen safe word. Oh Celeste will know who her king is too when we’re finished with her. Won’t she my Queen?

Liam grabbed a riding crop from the wall and smacked Riley hard across her bare ass. Thong still in place. Riley winced as she heard the crack of the crop against her slick skin.

“Please my king”

“Shut up, you don’t speak until I tell you to open your filthy mouth for me”

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Liam pulled a small dagger from the bedside table. The handle adorned with red rubies in the shape of W & K. King William Constantine Rhys & Queen Katherine Riley Vanderbilt Rhys.

He ran the dagger along her torso up to her neck tracing old subtle scars.

“Open your mouth baby” Liam whispered.

Riley opened her mouth. She could feel her core pooling. Moisture threatening to drip down her thighs.

Liam slid the dagger over her flattened tongue flipping it over in her mouth. He slid the dagger down her chin to her throat. He pressed the dagger more firm into her skin causing her blood to bubble to the surface. He sliced gently to her belly button. Riley wincing in pain but loving the feel of cold dagger dragging down her flesh.

Liam knelt to his knees and clasped his mouth around her nub. Still holding the dagger against her thigh as he gripped her. He dragged the knife across her sex and sliced her underwear in two.

Liam delved his fingers into her sex as hard as he could. He swirled his tongue around clit. Liam pumped and curled his fingers in out of her fast and hard. His rock hard length dripping precum.

More Liam Don’t stop.” Riley screamed.

Hearing Riley scream made Liam abruptly stop completely. Fingers still inside her, Liam pulled his head back to look up at her.

“Did I tell you to speak?”

Sliding his fingers out, Liam grabbed the crop and slapped it hard across her dripping pussy.

“You speak when I say. Next time I won’t be as calm with you.”

“Fuck you Liam” Riley screamed, Venom dripping from her lips. She was seething at his refusal of her release she so desperately needed.

Riley covered in welts from the crop and dried blood across her torso, Liam unhooked each restraint.

“What the fuck Liam? We aren’t finished playing.”

Liam slapped her hard across the face with the crop. Riley’s head falling to her shoulder. Fire burned in Liams eyes as he watched the blood drip down the corner of her mouth. Riley reached for the dagger as Liam crashed his mouth onto hers. Riley could taste a mixture of copper and salt on his tongue.

Riley dragged the dagger across Liams thigh drawing a bit of blood. She reached the hair on the nape of his neck and pulled hard. Liams neck snapped as she slid the dagger across his jugular.

She dragged the dagger across his chest, ripping his chest open watching the blood drip down his chest to his abdomen.

Liam has enough. He needed her now. He had everything he needed from her. He pulled her into his taking the dagger from her and throwing it on the floor. The slight scabs that had formed from the congealing blood on her sternum ripped open with friction of their bodies rubbing together. Liam slammed Riley into the bed. He grabbed her ankles and spread her as far as apart as he could before slamming his hard cock into her waiting center.

Riley screamed in pain and satisfaction. Her manicured nails digging into back as deep as she could grasp him.

“I’m not holding back My Queen.”

Liam pumped into her hard and fast. He put one hand on her stomach pressing down, the other hand securing her leg as he continued to massage her walls.

Riley ran her fingers across the dripping blood mixed with sweat. She slid her bloody fingers into her mouth eyeing Liam.

Liam leaned his head down and licked the blood pooling between her breasts and crashed his lips into hers. He felt Riley’s wall fluttering knowing she was close. His cock tightened as she came underneath him. Liam wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed as his thrust became frantic. Riley’s eyes were wide seeing the power and fire in his eyes.

Riley tried to say Celeste. She couldn’t breathe. He was choking the life out of her without even realizing it. He was pumping hard concentrating on his thrusts as his cock disappeared in and out of her glistening walls.

“I. can’t. let. go. Riley.” Liam spoke between breaths.

Riley understood. He physically couldn’t let her go. Even if he did kill her. It wasn’t malice or hate. This was raw pure love. This is what he needed from her. From his wife. And this is what she needed. She needed him to bring her to the brink of life and pull her back at the same time. This was them.

Liam found his release deep within her. He released her neck right as everything went black. Riley’s eyes fluttered open with a satisfied grin on her face.

“I love you so much my Queen.”

“I love you Liam.“

They laid together on their white silk sheets breathless. Both of their minds running towards the following week.

“We should get cleaned up my love. We’ve made quite the mess I suspect.” Liam whispered.

They both slowly rose from the cloud like confines in a state of stupor.

They made sure to always have white sheets to see every drop they spilled from each other. They’re bodies marked from each other’s carnal pleasure. A release unlike any they’ve shared with anyone else.

“My King you did well. Let’s leave the sheets for tonight.”

“Very well my Queen. I’m not finished with you yet. We will have a week before our next release.”

The dawn crept through they’re tightly drawn curtains. Riley stretched reaching for her husband but found his side of the bed cold. Riley slowly rose from the bed. Still naked and marked from their endless night. Riley made her way to the shower to find Liam soaking in the tub.

“Join me?”

Riley slid in front of him feeling the sting from her open wounds that covered her body.

“We have a long flight to states in an hour. Are you ready for this Riley?”

“Liam It’s time. It’s time to take off our masks and savor the tastes of revenge. Of freedom.”

“This is our last time. We need to take our time with them. Please don’t make it too quick like last time with Madeline.”

“My king, I take offense.” Riley huffed. “I gave you the release you craved with Madeline. Her life was a sweet release for me.”

An hour later the King and Queen bordered their private jet to American hand in hand.

Biltmore Estate

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for these twisted fucks. Fucking monarchs just get to do whatever they want with whomever they want.” Anthony muttered to himself.

Anthony was the groundskeeper. He took care of everything for his King and Queen during their stays. And they paid him handsomely. He primarily resided at the estate to maintain the grounds as well as the estate itself. The estate held many secrets that he was tasked to solely hold.

“Please” a raspy voice called out.

“Shut up Celeste. Your King is on his way.”

Celeste let a muffled cry as she heard the bars slam shut.

“I’ll be back to get you cleaned up when I’m finished with Ashley and Amelia.”

The private jet landed at the airport in Raleigh North Carolina. Liam and Riley made their discreetly to an SUV meant to take them to their estate.

“Your majesty King Liam” Anthony bowed.

Liam rushed in. “Hello Anthony, you are dismissed. I’ll need the keys to the Bowels please. Our gifts are secure and ready I presume?”

“Yes your majesty, they have been cleaned, fed, and await you. I will take my leave now.”

Riley waited in the suv until Anthony left. She couldn’t maintain a stoic facade during their times away. She spotted Anthony’s car pull away from the estate headed to the servants quarters. Riley rushed out and straight to Liam pulling him into a lustful kiss. They made their way to the nicknamed Bowels, a cellar that has been retrofitted with cells. They hold Liam and Riley’s victims as well as their aggressors.

“Wait Liam, why is Anton here?”

Riley looked on the computers outside the cellar doors in the security room. They were only supposed to have 3 women. She didn’t understand. What was Liam up to?

Liam smirked. Suddenly a loud knocking was coming from the front doors. They glanced down at the monitors. Riley’s eyes widened when she saw the fiery red hair standing in front of the cameras.

“Liam uh where are our children? Please...”

“Riley. They are with Max and Hana in Lythikos. Leo will be there soon to help with them as well. Don’t worry my love. Now to explain about Drake and Liv. They needed to see the truth. About them, about us. I’m ready to share parts of our true selves with the family we created.”

Riley nodded. She was not in a teaching mood.

“Private now Liam.”

“What Riley? What’s the problem?”

“The problem? How can we be US with them? I’m not here to teach them how to become sociopaths like us Liam. Fuck.”

“Relax baby.” Liam only used the baby pet name when he was confident in his prowess.

“Fine. They better not fuck this up and I’m not holding back.”

The two couples made their way to the cellar door. Liam held Riley’s hand while he unlocked the door. The electronic key and palm scanner both sprang green in sequence. Drake and Liv quickened their breath.

“We have a ritual guys if you don’t mind standing back. And you can join if you like.” Riley calmly stated.

Liam and Riley stripped naked. Liam pushing Riley against the cellar door in a hungry kiss. Liv admired the marks and scars the two in front of her were covered in. Some old, some new. She was intrigued. Drake’s breath quickened. They joined their best friends in the nude. Liam and Riley glanced behind them noticing Liv and Drake in the same fashion. None of them faced with the pain they had felt at sometime or the other. The abuse. The abuse that twisted them into who they were. Not who they had become.

The door opened. Celeste gasped seeing her half brother, sister in law, the scarlet duchess & the commoner walking through the door naked. Celeste had no idea what circle of hell she was about to enter. Nor that there were others destined to meet the same fate she would soon come to meet. At the hands of her King and his Queen.

“Hello Cece” Liam laughed in a voice unrecognizable to the others in the group yet all too familiar to his wife.

The demons have come out to play.

#theroyalromance #kingliam queenriley dark twisted triggerwarnings mc kingliamxmc drake olivia

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cagestark · 4 years

Text

A Hole in the Head//2

Everybody was so kind to me last night. Here’s a thanks <3

Read here on AO3.

The next morning finds Peter lounging in bed. When he stretches and twists against the silken sheets, his ass smarts from the sound spanking Tony gave it the night before. His morning wood aches at the reminder. After his punishment, Tony had rolled on a condom and fucked Peter on his hands and knees, the backs of his thighs giving his sore ass a pounding. He’d made Peter cum from his cock alone and then pulled out, shed the condom, and demanded that Peter suck him off. This cock just made you cum, baby, he’d said, fingers tangled in Peter’s hair. Treat it real good. Thank it, thank me.

The bedroom door opens. Peter sits up, breathless at the sight of Tony’s figure in the doorway.

“Thank God you’re here, sir,” Peter says. “I really don’t think I showed your cock enough gratitude last night.”

Tony steps into the room and Barnes appears following behind him.

Peter’s mouth goes dry. God, in the afternoon light that streams through the window, Barnes is even more handsome than the dining room chandelier had made him out to be. His jaw is sharp and shadowed, lips full and downturned. The low brow disguises pale eyes and gives the impression that Barnes is always one disappointment away from murder. Nothing turns Peter on more.

“Oh,” Peter breathes, putting a hand against his bare chest in the semblance of modest astonishment. “Two gifts? I get two cocks to worship?”

Tony’s mouth has to work hard to keep its flat, unimpressed line. Barnes gives no outward reaction—a tough nut to crack, but Peter knows that the harder the work, the larger the payoff. “No gifts, Peter. You can show my cock gratitude later, though I doubt you’ll still feel moved to. I’m showing Barnes the panic room in the closet. You know it’s noon, don’t you? You shouldn’t lay in bed all day, pumpkin.”

Without any further acknowledgement of Peter’s existence, Tony ushers Barnes into the large walk-in closet.

Sighing, Peter slips from the bed, arching his back and stretching again just for the pleasant ache. He grabs fresh boxers to don after he showers and then takes up residence in the in-closet doorway, watching the two men. The panic room door is in the south wall, hidden by a line of Tony’s suits which have been pushed aside.

“Are we resetting the access code, sir?” Peter asks.

Both men turn. Tony, used to seeing Peter in various states of undress, is more than likely just pleased he isn’t naked and doesn’t bat an eye. Barnes however is not used to it. Those stony eyes drag from Peter’s bruise-ridden collar bone down over his trim chest and abs, catching on the tent in Peter’s boxers (and yeah, it jerks just under the weight of that cold gaze) before following the line of his legs all the way down to the bare feet, toenails shiny with polish.

Barnes takes it all in—and then he looks back at the panic room door and his eyes don’t touch Peter again.

“Yes,” Tony answers Peter’s question. “We’re going to set it to something easy for Barnes to remember—”

“It’s not my panic room,” Barnes interrupts, voice raspy. “If anyone is going to forget, I’d rather it be me instead of you or the kid. Just leave the code as it is, Mr. Stark; I’ll remember it.”

Tony’s eyebrows lift above the rim of his tinted glasses.

A complicated man, it’s a fine line between the authority that Tony’s likes having challenged and the kind that is likely to get a man in trouble. In his subordinates, he requires obedience (with only certain exceptions for creative flare). In his lovers, Tony loves the struggle. The intellectual challenge that comes with banter, the power-struggle of dominating a partner who doesn’t bend easily, the joy of breaking a brat. It’s one reason why Peter and Tony are so sexually compatible—both their needs are met in the other. But Barnes, Peter wonders, holding his breath. What kind of challenge is he presenting to Tony?

After a moment that likely only lasts a few heartbeats, Tony’s head tilts in concession. He brushes onwards so seamlessly that Peter doesn’t even get the chance to analyze what it all means. “If you insist. 774337 opens the door. It locks from the inside automatically upon being closed, and there is a mandatory twelve hour waiting period before the door will open. The only override requires both my thumbprint and Peter’s, so don’t go in there for shits and giggles unless you enjoy solitude.”

“Will that override work if you’re dead?” Barnes wonders.

“Yes. The scanner isn’t picky about if the thumb is attached to a living person, nor if it comes from the left or right hand. It has prints for both. Should I be killed, feel free to exhume them; they won’t be doing me any good.”

Feeling sick, Peter storms into the closet and rifles for the first set of clothes he can find. “I don’t want to listen to this,” he says around the knot in his throat. “Ned’s out of school, so I’ll be in the entertainment room.”

“Okay—hey. Come here.” Peter reluctantly lets himself be pulled into Tony’s arms. They hug, not a hairsbreadth between them, Peter breathing in the scent of cologne. If he shuts his eyes, he can see Tony collapsed on the floor beside their bed, his blood black in the moonlight, chest open and wet and gaping. Squeezing his eyes shut, Peter tries to think of something else. But Tony knows. He always knows. “It’s okay, Pete. Barnes is here to keep the both of us safe. But you’re the priority.”

“I don’t have to like it, sir,” Peter snarks.

Tony tilts his chin up for a peck. Peter’s eyes open to see Barnes standing by the panic room door and yes, he’s watching them. Closing his eyes, Peter threads his fingers through the hairs on the nape of Tony’s neck and goes up onto his toes to keep their mouths connected, spreading his lips and coaxing Tony’s tongue from his mouth to suck on it, feeling the older man’s groan reverberate through his chest. When they part, the both of them are breathing hard.

Barnes is taking slow, even breaths. Three counts in, four counts out. He’s leaning back against the panic room door watching Peter with a flat, unimpressed look. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Tony, he’s even more boring than Steve,” Peter complains to his lover in a stage whisper.

“—what do you mean she just wants to—Ned, on your right, coming up the- oh, nice shot—just wants to be friends? She was the one asking you for dick pics. Am I missing something?” Peter says into the comm of his headset. He sits cross-legged on the floor, back pressed against the sofa. “Are friends swapping nudes now?”

“Not my friends!” Ned insists, voice tinny from the cheap headset he uses. Peter has offered to buy him one multiple times, but Ned insists that the old one is well broken in. Junky, Peter thinks. “I told her I wanted to take it slow—nice, good game, bro—but I didn’t mean this. This is like, all slow, no burn, you feel me?”

“Oh, I feel—fuck!” When the television goes dark for the loading screen, a figure can be seen standing behind him. Peter wrenches the headset clear off and goes for the gun in the end table drawer, but as soon as he turns, he sees that it’s not (Beck, it’s not Beck, Beck’s dead!) some assassin. At least, it isn’t an assassin who is there to kill him. It’s Barnes. “Jesus Christ! Do you mind? Announce yourself when you enter a room, knock or something.”

Peter picks up the headset. On the other end, Ned is freaking out. He knows vaguely that Peter’s boyfriend is in shady business (and that’s putting it lightly), knows about what happened last Spring regarding Beck just in the vaguest of terms. But still, he’s a good bro, he’s got a good imagination, and he worries.

“Sorry Ned, it’s nothing. Just some asshole Tony has keeping tabs on me these days.” He glances over his shoulder but Barnes’s face doesn’t even change. Maybe his eyebrows are a little higher than they were, but nothing in his expression reads displeasure or anger. Just boredom, with maybe a hint of amusement. Peter isn’t the best at reading the nuances of expression; he prefers more straightforward body language.

Rolling his eyes, Peter turns back to the loading screen and immediately mutes the other players in the lobby so he doesn’t have to listen to any twelve year olds argue over whose mom gives the best blowjobs.

“Whoa, dude, you’ve got a bodyguard now?” Ned asks. “That’s sick.”

“You want him? I’ll loan him out to you. Twenty dollars.”

“Is he hot?”

“You’re straight, Ned.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t. I need data!”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, he’s hot.”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

Peter turns to appraise the older man. He feels anxious butterflies in his stomach that flap their condor-sized wings when he meets those fathomless eyes that show him absolutely nothing. He makes a show of raking his gaze over Barnes from head to toe, the messy hair that’s an obscene length, the cut jaw, the wide shoulders and trim waist. “Body, ten. Face, ten,” Peter admits. Barnes lifts an eyebrow. “Personality…four.”

Any amusement drains out of the other man’s face.

“Ouch,” Ned mutters, though Peter can hardly hear it over his own laughter.

In four long strides, Barnes passes around the couch Peter sits in front of. He puts one combat boot on the cords coming from the back of the PS4 and Peter has just long enough to cry out an indignant hey! before the foot twists and jerks, pulling the power supply from the game console. The television goes dark.

“What the hell are you protecting me from right now, bodyguard?” Peter asks, pulling his headset off. “Having a good fucking time? Congratulations! I sure dodged that bullet!”

“We need to talk,” says Barnes. God, that voice. It’s lethal. He imagines how it’s rough cadence would compliment Tony’s smooth tones, the both of them above Peter, taking him apart, talking a stream of the most toe-curling filth. He blinks the image away.

“I’m way more likely to do what you want if you just ask, asshole,” Peter growls.

Barnes laughs, a mirthless sound. “As if, kid. You think I’m stupid? Tony and I spent the whole goddamn morning discussing you and the best way for me to manage you. He made it absolutely clear that you view the simplest requests as challenges, so this is not me asking you to talk. This is me talking. And this is you sitting on your ass like a good little boy and listening to me. Got it?”

Peter stares, gobsmacked, for one endless moment. Equal parts aroused and furious, watching the scales tip back and forth in his mind, wondering which side will win. “He told you how I treat requests, huh? Did he tell you how I treat demands?”

Barnes’s eyes narrow—but then Peter is up and vaulting over the couch. He doesn’t expect escaping to be easy (not by a long shot, Peter knows better than anyone how well trained Tony’s men are, how in shape they are) but he doesn’t expect it to be so difficult either. Barnes truly is the Winter Soldier. He takes chase immediately, more instinct than conscious decision, leaping the couch in one graceful movement. Peter can feel the thud of footsteps behind him before he’s even out the door. There’s no chance he can outrun this maniac.

But Peter has home field advantage. He knows the nooks and crannies, the ins and outs of the place. He doesn’t bother feinting the wrong direction, just puts all of his energy into sprinting down the hallway towards the kitchens and into the pantry. The pantry door can bolt from the inside, all he has to do is reach it and then he can use the secret stairs to go up to the second floor—

He doesn’t even make it that far. One arm, hard as steel, slips around Peter’s waist jerking him back into a chest like a tree trunk. If this were Tony, Peter might be tempted to go lax—Tony spent many months pursuing Peter (literally and figuratively). While they might chase each other sometimes, Peter knows that it’s just to reaffirm Tony’s dominance. But Barnes has no dominance over Peter, yet, and there’s no way in hell Peter is going to let him take it easily.

He throws his head backwards, but Barnes is so fucking tall that it just hits him in the solar plexus. Barnes drops to his knees taking him to the ground. Peter knows that any fight is almost always over once one opponent is on the ground, so he twists with all the strength he has, nails scratching at the clothed arm that pins him tight. One of his heels comes up to strike the assassin in the balls, and all the breath rushes out of him. He loosens his grip just long enough for Peter to slip away and down the hallway, out into the foyer, and then into the kitchen.

The door slams on the pantry before Peter realizes—Barnes isn’t giving chase anymore. He pauses, breathing as silently through his mouth as he can, reaching down to adjust his hard-on (Jesus, where had that thing come from? Get it together, Peter!). What’s his play? What’s Barnes doing? Has he given up so easily?

Peter creeps to the wall that has the secret stairs, slides open the panel and begins to ascend the steep spiral, tip-toeing so as to not make any noise. Upstairs, he slides open the panel that sits just outside his bedroom with Tony and waits, listening. No sound. Not that he’d be able to hear one over the blood rushing in his ears. He sticks his head out to look left and right like a child about to cross traffic—but the hallway is empty.

Creeping out, he slides the panel closed behind him. He can’t remember if he shut the panel in the pantry, but fuck it. Too late to go back now. Inside his bedroom with Tony is a window that opens up onto the rooftop. It’s easy enough to shimmy his way down the drainpipe and let himself fall the rest of the way into the azaleas. The gardeners hate him, but who fucking cares?

Opening up the bedroom door—Barnes is there standing out the window, looking out with his hands in his pockets like he’s admiring the view of the lawns and the in-ground pool. He glances back at Peter and gives him a smile like a shark’s. Pointing at the window, he says, “Hey, is this the one you like to sneak out of? Huh.”

Peter slams the door shut. Heart in his throat, he almost makes it to the stairs when a cord tangles itself around his shins and sends him careening to the carpeted floor. He looks down in horror at the device Barnes has just throw to trip him like Peter is fucking cattle.

“Did you just use a bolas on me?” Peter says, kicking his legs to free himself. By then, Barnes is on top of him, rolling him onto his stomach and putting a knee into his lower back. The pressure knocks the breath from his lungs.

“I spent too many years living in Russia to count, kid. In Siberia, the Yup’ik kids play with these like toys.”

“Thanks for the culture lesson,” Peter grits out. His erection grinds harshly into the carpet, and he’s more than tempted to squirm and revel in the friction. God, he’s so turned on. No one in his life has ever made him feel this hot save for Tony. “Mind getting off of me, now?”

“You done running?” Barnes asks.

“Get up and find out.” Barnes threads his fingers into Peter’s hair and pulls up. There’s no holding in the moan that slips free of his open mouth. “Harder,” Peter begs, half-joking. Barnes makes a noise in his throat (disgust? Amusement?) before letting go so suddenly that Peter’s forehead nearly kisses the floor.

“Listen to me, Peter.” Barnes’s voice is close as he speaks almost directly into Peter’s ear, but no matter how Peter shifts, he can’t feel the air from the older man’s breath. Tragic. “Tony warned me about everything. Your favorite ways to sneak out, your favorite hiding spots, all your tricks and games. He told me that you’d be like this, a runner, a fighter. Warned me that you might need put down in submission and shown who is in charge. Consider this in no uncertain terms: I am in charge. I am to keep you safe, and I’m going to do it, no matter what that means. We don’t have to be at each other’s throats as long as you follow the few rules that I have.

“Any move you make, you’re going to run it by me first so that I can take proper precautions to keep you alive. Whatever games you want to play aren’t going to phase me until they endanger you. Then you can expect me to put you down, just like this. Do you understand?”

Peter’s head feels fuzzy from the adrenalin of the chase and the euphoria of being caught. He can almost see himself pinned there on the floor like a bug beneath the larger man’s shoe, as if he is outside of his own body, but there is no more giddiness or fear. “Yessir,” Peter slurs. He drools on the carpet.

Above him Barnes withdraws from crushing Peter’s pelvis into the floor and Peter wastes no time in grinding his erection into the carpet, groaning as the sensation bursts across his sensitive skin, neurons sparking like fireworks.

“Jesus, kid,” Barnes mutters.

“How’s it going?” Tony asks, coming up around the last step of the stairs. He eyes Peter on the floor and his face twists, torn between sympathy and amusement. One of Peter’s hands reaches out, hips arching away from the floor and then back down in an absolutely obscene movement that can be mistaken for nothing besides what it is. “Aww, baby,” Tony purrs, eyes glittering. “Did big bad Bucky put you down? Been a while, huh?”

“To-ny,” Peter whines, far breathier than he’d like. But in this fuzzy place, nothing embarrasses him. When Tony offers Peter a hand, he can’t help but nuzzle against it, the contact burning in the best way. Tony helps him up onto shaky legs and Barnes reaches down to untangle him from the bolas.

“We’ll be—ah, indisposed for the rest of the afternoon, Barnes, thank you,” Tony says.

“‘s he coming too, Tony?” Peter asks, looking up the man—Tony! Tony Stark, Peter’s god, his idol, his master, his home and safety.

Tony’s smile wanes. He clears his throat, tucking Peter under his arm while one hand comes up to rub at his sternum the way he does only when the scar beneath his shirt aches. “No, kid. Just us. Bucky will be right outside though, won’t he? Keeping us safe.”

Barnes nods, his head bowed in deference to Tony as the man passes by, and it’s the last thing Peter sees before the bedroom door closes and Tony becomes the center of his universe.

#starker #winterironspider #nff #mafia!tony #brat!Peter

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starkbucksbingo · 4 years

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Bucky/Tony SBB Week 13 & 14! ♥

Title: Club Can't Handle Me Collaborator Name: tisfan Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: G3 - “Don’t touch him!” Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: E (fic) / M (chapter 1) Major Tags & Triggers: N/A Summary: The Avengers have gone undercover to find a target who’s been frequenting clubs and bars. It’s probably just a coincidence that Bucky and Tony have been assigned to cover this bar, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Bucky to watch Tony flirting his way across the dance floor. Word Count: 1880 (ch1) / 2095 (ch2) ——————————————

Title: Join The Club Collaborator Name: sierranovembr Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: N2 - Nebula Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: Drabble, N/A Summary: Tony facilitates a new Avengers club. Word Count: 100 ——————————————

Title: N/A Collaborator Name: monobuu Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: G4 - AU: Mermaids Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: N/A Summary: Ever since they were younglings, Tony had had the brightest, most beautifully shining tail Bucky had ever seen. Word Count: 333 ——————————————

Title: Song and dance number not included Collaborator Name: Riot Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: N1 - World Doniation Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: Crack, banter Summary: Bucky has seen some wild things in his time as a Professional Cuddle Buddy. Nothing beats finding himself in Tony Stark’s penthouse with the sleep deprived genius himself. Word Count: 1,897 ——————————————

Title: Flame of Devotion Collaborator Name: 27Dragons Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: I2 - AU: Gods/Goddesses Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags & Triggers: BDSM, Sensation Play, Wax Play, unnegotiated kink Summary: It is almost time for the White Wolf to fade into myth – but before that happens, his few remaining worshipers are asking for a miracle, and they’ve offered up the most delectable sacrifice. Word Count: 2,643 ——————————————

Title: French Braid Collaborator Name: Ducky Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: B2 - Hair Braiding Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: General Major Tags & Triggers: Established Relationship Summary: Bucky wants his hair done differently than normal, and Tony tries to make it happen. Word Count: 447 —————————————— Title: The Other Earth- A Whisper In The Night Collaborator Name: J_Gun_i Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: B5- Didn't Know They Were Dating Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIronWidow Rating: Mature Major Tags & Triggers: Amnesia, presumed dead, Family, mystical creatures, slight crack (later), bakery Au elements, mention of alcohol abuse, Alien physiology Summary: Bucky had a cat, had a job at a local bakery, and some odd jobs here and there. At night, he would look in the sky, trying to figure out the constellations, seeing the stars differently than he faintly remembered. At the same time on one of those stars far away, a star named Earth, Tony Stark held his baby boy, whispering, “One day, you’ll know you’re the world.[…]” Word Count: 2699 ——————————————

Title: it’s the pits Collaborator Name: halfweeze Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: O3 - Lending a Hand Ship/Main Pairing: Tony Stark/James "Bucky" Barnes/Pepper Potts Rating: General Major Tags & Triggers: Crack, Office Setting Summary: Pepper looks so totally normal that one would believe that nothing at all was running amiss, and that this was the normal state of affairs for the typical meeting the CEO and board of Stark Industries would attend. And, mostly, that would be correct.Bar the nearly two thousand brightly colored balls littering the floor up to the height of the meeting room table, it looks like any other meeting. Word Count: 1205 —————————————— Title: Stop Dragon My Heart Around Collaborator Name: tisfan, 27dragons Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: tisfan - G2 Magic, 27dragons - N4 “I am under no obligation to make sense to you” Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags & Triggers: AU: Dragons, AU: Magic Summary: Bucky is left as a sacrifice to the great dragon who has invaded Hydra territory.Tony's... not sure what to do with that. Sacrifices are a giant pain in the tail... Word Count: 4860 —————————————— Title: To Fall In Love With Your Conscience Collaborator Name: Ducky Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: B5 - Invisibility Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony/Rhodey Rating: Mature Major Tags & Triggers: Shoulder Angel & Devil AU Summary: When it comes to making a decision, who or what do you rely on? Common sense? No. Logic? No. Everyone knows the best way to decide is by talking to your shoulder angel and devil. But what happens when your angel and devil are in love with each other? Bucky Barnes has that problem. He thinks it’s the worst. Word Count: 1305 —————————————— Title: Dear Old Dead Dad Collaborator Name: tisfan Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: N2 - Paranormal Investigator Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: Ghosts, Canon Established Character Death (Howard) Summary: Tony is being haunted, and he no longer cares who knows it. Bucky Barnes is a paranormal investigator with a sense of ethics. Word Count: 875 —————————————— Title: Burning In The Skies Collaborator Name: Pariscores Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: B5 - Tension Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: Heavy Rain AU, Serial Killers, No Powers, Police, Federal Agents, Child Death Summary: “You said it took six inches of rainfall before the victim died. How much time do we have left?” If that isn’t the million-dollar question. Swallowing thickly, Tony replies, “if the weather forecasts are right… we have less than 72 hours.” There is an immediate drop in the atmosphere as his words sink in. There is a silent tension, everyone in the room sharing glances with each other with a collective understanding of just how dire the situation is. Less than 72 hours. Less than 3 days to find a man that no one has been able to capture in two years. Word Count: 10085 —————————————— Title: The Trio is Back Collaborator Name: Ducky Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: N2 - Didn't Know They Were Dating Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Nat/Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: AU: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Poly Summary: Natasha, Bucky, and Tony have been friends since childhood. Everyone speculates that Natasha will have to choose between the two of them. Little do they know she might just choose both. Word Count: 2486 ——————————————

Title: Eyes Turned Skyward Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: I5 - AU: Dealer’s Choice Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags & Triggers: NSFW, BDSM Summary: Tony has an erogenous zone at the base of his wings. Bucky probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it hadn’t been for Nat brushing her fingers against Tony’s back at breakfast. It’s an innocuous motion, probably nothing more than to let Tony—who startles easily—know that she’s back there. But Tony stiffens. And then he shudders. And Bucky sits up and takes notice. Word Count: N/A - Moodboard ——————————————

Title: N/A Collaborator Name: monobuu Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: O5 - Huddling for Warmth Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Gen Major Tags & Triggers: N/A Summary: Huddling is just one letter away from Cuddling and I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Word Count: N/A - Fanart ——————————————

Title: Alarmed Collaborator Name: festiveferret Link: HERE♥ Square Filled: I5 - Baking Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: Fluff Summary: N/A Word Count: 770 ——————————————

#Starkbucksbingo2020 #sbb2020 #weekly roundup #week 13 #starkbucks #week 14

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docholligay · 4 years

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My vivoki bit it and I swear to god I am tired of all the horseshit surrounding ~~fitness trackers~~. YOu know what I want??? A STEP COUNTER. A SMALL STEP COUNTER THAT WILL CLIP TO MY BRA STRAP, THAT’S NOT EASILY SEEN. I WANT IT TO KEEP TRACK OF MY STEPS. I DO NOT NEED FUCKING EMAILS ON MY GODDAMN PEDOMETER. I WOULD BE THRILLED IF IT UPLOADED A COUNT TO MY PHONE. I can even convert steps to calories myself!

It’s impossibly hard to find something discreet. When I started tracking steps YEARS ago because I was underweight* and my doctor suggested I was probably moving a lot more than I thought**, fitbit and all that horseshit was in its infancy, and so it was pretty easy to find a step counter that you couldn’t easily see and just...tracked steps.

BUT OH THEN THE FUCKING FITNESS WATCHES. SPOILER ALERT: YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING GOOB WITH YOUR FITNESS WATCH. THEY DO NOT LOOK COOL. Honestly, if I see someone checking emails on their watch my eyes roll into space like jesus fucking shit do you really need instant knowledge of your orwellian hell device who are you Elon Musk get a grip BUT I DIGRESS. THat’s a smart watch thing in general but basically all fitness trackers now are trying to be smartwatches. I do not! Want one! Honestly if I could just get a small bird to follow me and notch every hundred steps on a rock I’d be delighted.

So enter the vivoki, by garmin. I was OBSESSED with this thing, I’ve used it the last four years.

Clipped easily and discreetly, only tracked steps, the little lights meant you were at 20%-40%-60%-80%-100% of whatever goal it is you set, uploaded to your phone when tapped. Perfect. Iconic.

But they keep crapping out on me because garmin basically isn’t supporting them anymore, because they are small and cheap-ish. THIS PRODUCT SHOULD BE AVAILABLE EASILY. IT IS CHEAP AND LOW TECH. I SHOULD BE ABLE TO BUY SOMETHING WITH THESE CAPABILITIES FOR FORTY FUCKING DOLLARS. I will never buy another fucking garmin product again, because I am fucking INCENSED about how they’ve handled this whole vivoki thing.

NOT THAT THIS IS A PROBLEM FOR ME AS ALL THEIR OTHER PRODUCT ARE ~WRIST WEARABLES~ NO ONE LOOKS GOOD IN THOSE UGLY SILICONE BANDS and the ~LUXURY STYLES~ DO NOT LOOK LIKE A NICE WATCH THEY LOOK LIKE A FUCKING UGLY ASS SMART WATCH WITH A SHITTY FAKE FACE. Also tracking your steps on your wrist is SO inaccurate. We did a test with Jetty’s and it was off by THOUSANDS just from gesturing and typing all day.

And I know why they want to fucking do this, because they want people to be seen wearing them, which not only normalizes it but makes it into a “statement” piece and a sign of wealth and affluence, pressure to be “techy” while keeping your nerd cred of pretending you don’t care about brand names lol go jerk yourself off you just worship a different capitalist god.

So now, here I FUCKING am, having to buy a goddamn Fitbit Inspire because it’s the only tiny clip on I can find and I am DONE with garmin’s horseshit, AND IT GETS FUCKING EMAIL NOTIFICATIONS. I DO NOT WANT THIS! I HAVE TO SPEND MORE MONEY BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING DETERMINED TO SHOVE THIS DOWN MY MOTHERFUCKING THROAT. WHO CHECKS THEIR EMAILS ON A FITNESS CLIP ARE YOU ALL JUST SNORTING COKE OFF THE GLASS EXECUTIVE TABLE OR WHAT.

I AM SO FUCKING ANNOYED RIGHT NOW.

BUT I BOUGHT IT.

*I also had recently decided I need to take a break from drinking, because I desperately needed to take a break from drinking. A dear friend had died and I had basically decided that starving myself and binge drinking was a great coping mechanism. I, obviously, straightened the fuck up and got right with god, because here I stand, but gaining it back was difficult because drinking is kinda the only high calorie thing I REALLY enjoy, which is true to this day. So gaining myself into “healthy” was a whole thing.

**He was correct. An average day for me is 12,000-16,000 steps, to say nothing of my constant bouncing and wiggling.

#I sound unhinged in this post #but in fairnes I am unhinged

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blog-cosmosuniverse1 · 3 years

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What Have We Done? By E.P. Unum January 21, 2021

Joseph R. Biden was just inaugurated as the 46th President of the United States yesterday. I have nothing further to say about this historical event attended primarily by 26,000 National Guard Troops, FBI, NSA, CIA Operatives. That fact alone is a very telling story. Apparently, additional security was deemed necessary for a President-Elect who received allegedly 80 million votes, more than any other person in the history of our country. All of the “peaceful riots” throughout the summer and Fall, where stores and businesses were looted and destroyed, monuments toppled and police and citizens were killed, did not require the assistance of armed troops to quell these “activities”. I also will not comment on the 17 Executive Actions signed by our new President on his first afternoon in office. None of these offer any hope or unity nor are they of any benefit to the American people or to America. Indeed, they will drive us further downward. But here are some lessons we can learn from the new change in leadership to the America we know: Perhaps now you understand why there was never any action against the Clintons or Obama, how they destroyed emails and evidence and phones and servers, how they spied and wiretapped, how they lied to the FISA Court, had conversations on the tarmac, sent emails to cover their rears after key meetings, how Comey and Brennan and Clapper never were brought to any justice, how the FBI and CIA lied, how the Steele Dossier, paid for by Hillary Clinton, was passed along, how phones got factory reset, how leak after leak to an accomplice corrupt media went unchecked, why George Soros is always in the shadows, why Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan and George Bush and John McCain were all involved, why they screamed Russia and pushed a sham impeachment, why no one ever goes to jail, why no one is ever charged, why nothing ever happens.

Perhaps now you know why there was no wrongdoing in the falsification of the FISA Warrants, why the Durham Report was delayed, why Hunter Biden has not been charged, why the FBI sat on his laptop for almost a year while Trump was being impeached on fictitious charges, why the Bidens' connection to China was overlooked as was unleashed the perfect weapon, a virus that was weaponized politically to bring down the greatest ever economy known to man and at the same time usher in an unverifiable and unnecessary system of mail-in voting that corrupted the very foundation of our democracy. Maybe now you can understand why the media is 24/7 propaganda and lies, why up is down and down is up, right is wrong and wrong is right, why social media can now silence the First Amendment and speak over the President of the United States. This has been the plan by the Deep State all along. They didn’t expect Trump to win in 2016. He messed up their plans, and delayed them a little….four years to be exact. They weren’t about to let it happen again. Covid was like manna from heaven for democrats and the socialist left, it was a tool to inject fear into all Americans and it was weaponized Governors who shut down their states and crumbled their economies out of fear. The media, never to let a good crisis go to waste, helped shame and kill the economy, and the super lucky unverifiable mail-in ballots were just the trick to make sure the 47-year career politician, allegedly with hands in Chinese payrolls, the man that couldn’t finish a sentence or collect a crowd, miraculously became the most popular vote recipient of all time. You have just witnessed a silent, bloodless coup, the overthrow of the US free election system, the end of our Constitutional Republic, and the beginning of the downward slide of capitalism and the free enterprise system into the abyss of socialism and communism. What a remarkable achievement! We have sacrificed the greatest engine of freedom, growth, and prosperity known to man on the altar of ignorance and totalitarianism. What will happen next? Well, here's a brief list: · Expect the borders to open up. Increased immigration. · Expect agencies like CBP and INS and Homeland Security to be muzzled or even deleted. · Law enforcement will see continued defunding. · Elimination of the electoral college will be attempted. · History as we know it will be erased. Our children will no longer study the American Revolution, the Civil War, World War I, II, Korea or Vietnam. These will be replaced with classes on “white priviledge”, “how American racism stole lands from native Indians” and the “need for racial equity” because America is a terrible nation. · The Supreme Court will be packed with liberal judges. · Your 2nd Amendment will be attacked and there may be a gun confiscation or gun buyback programs enacted and you will find it difficult to own a weapon…and ammunition of any kind. · If you have a manufacturing job or oil industry job, get ready to be unemployed. · If you own and run a business, brace for the impact of higher taxes and more governmental regulations. · Maybe you’ll be on the hook for slavery reparations, or have your suburbs turned into Section 8 housing. · Your taxes are going to increase dramatically and businesses will pay more. · We will be paying more for gasoline at the pump and we will soon find ourselves once again dependent on foreign oil.

President Trump made us energy independent. For the first time in our history, the USA became an oil-exporting nation. Biden’s illogical and corrupt dismantling of the Keystone Pipeline not only displaced 42,000 high-paying union jobs but now Canada will sell the oil in Alberta BC to China while we search for new supplies at higher prices. Well done Joe! In a couple of years, we will see the onslaught of inflation, high unemployment, less productivity as more and more people become dependent on the government for subsistence, all of which is the natural course of socialist economies The dollar will no longer be the world’s reserve currency and America will no longer be the bastion of freedom it once was. America will be overtaken by China as the largest economy in the world and, because we have become so complacent, we will find ourselves in the middle of great turmoil and upheaval with lots of civil strife that will make 2020 look like a walk in the park. I could go on and on. There is no real recovery from this. The national elections from here on will be decided by New York City, Chicago, and California. The Constitutional Republic we created will be dead. Mob rule and appeasement will run rampant. The candidate who offers the most from the Treasury will get the most votes. But the votes cast won’t matter, just the ones received and counted. That precedent has been set. Benjamin Franklin was walking out of Independence Hall after the Constitutional Convention in 1787, when someone shouted out, “Doctor, what have we got? A republic or a monarchy?’” Franklin responded, “A republic, if you can keep it.” Ladies and gentlemen, we have now lost the Republic our forefathers bequeathed to us, the Republic we fought and bled for these past two hundred and forty-five years. Some of you are wondering how this came to pass. The answers are indeed quite simple. We did it to ourselves: · We turned from God. We erased God from our halls of Justice and the Town Square. · We turned from family. · We turned from our country, our Flag, our Monuments to our leaders who paved the way. We denigrated all of these with revisionist history and the tearing down of monuments to our civilization and way of life. · We replaced achievement and recognition by embracing “participation trophies” so that our children can all feel a sense of accomplishment even when there was none. · We embraced degeneracy culture, inviting pornography into our laptops and living rooms. · We became some infatuated with technology that we lost the human touch…we found it easier to send emails or Facebook or twitter posts to a friend or co-worker ten feet away from us rather than walking over to chat with them. We have, in essence, become too high tech and low touch. It sort of begs the question…what does it matter if we wire the entire world if we lose our immortal souls? · We celebrated and looked to fools as our heroes, comedians whose idea of a joke is holding up a bloody head of our President. That’s not funny. It’s sad. · We worshipped ourselves selfishly and took for granted what brave men and women fought and died to give us. Their sacrifices are no longer valued, replaced instead with scorn because they may have committed “transgressions measured by today’s standards, not theirs”.

We disregarded history and all it teaches. On our watch, America just died a little. It’s likely she’ll never be the same again. Not until the 74 million Americans who voted for President Trump stand up and shout “we will no longer tolerate this and we want our country back” and do something about it

For starters, get off Twitter and Facebook and refuse to be a part of their efforts to disrespect the First Amendment. I did. And I don’t miss it at all. If companies want to insult all the people who supported President Trump by denying them jobs, fight back. Don’t buy their products. Shun them. Until we take those steps, they will continue to wield their power, but the ultimate power is in your hands…the power of the consumer. We did this to ourselves. We made our bed, now we have to sleep in it….until we get off our asses and remake it. Some of you have no idea what you’ve done. You know now. It is time to do something about it. Sadly, some of you do know what you have done. To them, I say…if you kick a dog long enough, pretty soon he’s gonna bite. I am tired of being kicked and insulted and disregarded as if I don’t matter. We do matter. We are Americans

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showmeahero-a · 5 years

Photo

starter sentences drawn from taylor swift’s 7th studio album, lover ( 2019 )

adjust as needed to fit your muse.

how many days did i spend thinking ‘bout how you did me wrong?

i forgot that you existed

i thought that it would kill me, but it didn’t

it isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference

i would’ve stuck around for ya, would’ve fought the whole town

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

it’s a cruel summer

no rules in breakable heaven

we’ll just screw it up in these trying times

said ‘i’m fine,’ but it wasn’t true

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

for whatever it’s worth, i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

we could leave the christmas lights up ‘til january ; this is our place, we make the rules

there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

have i known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

can i go where you go?

can we always be this close, forever & ever?

you’re my lover

i’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

i’ve loved you [number] summers now, honey, but i want ‘em all

my heart’s been borrowed & yours has been blue, all’s well that ends well to end up with you

when everyone believes ya, what’s that like?

i’m so sick of running as fast as i can, wondering if i’d get there quicker if i was a man

i’m so sick of them coming at me again

if i was a man, i’d be the man

what’s it like to brag about raking in dollars, & getting bitches & models?

if i was out flashing my dollars, i’d be a bitch, not a baller

i’m ready for combat

i say i don’t want that, but what if i do?

i’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches i almost said to you

help me hold on to you

i’ve been the archer, i’ve been the prey ; who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay?

i cut off my nose just to spite my face, then hate my reflection for years & years

i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, invisible smoke

all of my heroes die all alone

they see right through me

all the king’s horses, all the king’s men, couldn’t put me together again, ‘cause all of my enemies started out friends

no one understands

i want you

i ain’t gotta tell him, i think he knows

when we get all alone, i’ll make myself at home & he’ll want me to stay

he’d better lock it down or i won’t stick around, ‘cause good ones never wait

so where we gonna go?

you know i adore you, i’m crazier for you than i was at 16

i counted days, i counted miles to see you there

it’s you & me, that’s my whole world

she’s a bad, bad girl

the whole school is rolling fake dice

you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

voted most likely to run away with you

you are the only one who seems to care

i’m feeling helpless

boys will be boys, then where are the wise men?

darling, i’m scared

i don’t want you to go, i don’t really wanna fight

i think you should come home

this is a fight that someday we’re gonna win

i wake up in the night & watch you breathe

kiss me once ‘cause you know i had a long night, kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright, three times ‘cause i waited my whole life

i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings

you’re the one i want

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this

without all the exes, fights, & flaws, we wouldn’t be standing here so tall

i want to drive away with you

wrap your arms around me

i rent a place on [street name]

we were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

i hope i never lose you, hope it never ends ; i’d never walk [street name] again

that’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name

i’m so terrified of if you ever walk away

back when we were card sharks, playing games, i thought you were leading me on

saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

i get drunk, but it’s not enough ‘cause the morning comes & you’re not my baby

i look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up

i can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

i ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright, they say, ‘i don’t know’

what once was ours is no one’s now

you said it was a great love, one for the ages, but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages?

tryna find a part of me that you didn’t touch

gave up on me like i was a bad drug, now i’m searching for signs in a haunted club

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand, paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

gave you so much but it wasn’t enough

it’ll be alright, it’s just a thousand cuts

they say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives

darling, i fancy you

i guess all the rumors are true

don’t threaten me with a good time

just wanna be with you

i didn’t tell you i was scared

desperate people find faith, so now i pray to jesus, too

soon you’ll get better, ‘cause you have to

i know delusion when i see it in the mirror

i just pretend it isn’t real

i hate to make this all about me, but who am i supposed to talk to?

what am i supposed to do if there’s no you?

we were crazy to think that this could work

remember how i said i’d die for you?

we were stupid to jump in the ocean separating us

i can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like i’m not your favorite town ; i’m new york city

they all warned us about times like this

they say the road gets hard & you get lost when you’re led by blind faith, but we might just get away with it

religion’s in your lips

even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship this love

i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me

hell is when i fight with you, but we can patch it up good

damn, it’s 7 am

hey, are you okay?

i ain’t tryna mess with your self-expression, but i learned a lesson that stressin’ & obsessin’ ‘bout somebody else is no fun

you need to calm down

can you just not step on my gown?

you just need to take several seats, & then try to restore the peace & control your urges to scream about all the people you hate

shade never made anybody less gay

we all know now, we all got crowns

i blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue, put you in jail for something you didn’t do

fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

why’d i have to break what i love so much?

it’s all me, in my head, i’m the one who burned us down

it’s not what i meant

sorry that i hurt you

i don’t wanna lose this with you

meet me in the afterglow

i lived like an island, punished you with silence, went off like sirens, just crying

tell me that you’re still mine

tell me that we’ll be just fine

tell me that it’s not my fault

tell me that i’m all you want

i promise that you’ll never find another like me

i know that i’m a handful, baby, i know i never think before i jump

there’s a lot of cool chicks out there

baby doll, when it comes to a lover, i promise that you’ll never find another like me

i’m the only one of me ; baby, that’s the fun of me

you’re the only one of you ; baby, that’s the fun of you

i promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me

i know i tend to make it about me, i know you never get just what you see, but i will never bore you, baby

there’s a lot of lame guys out there

i never wanna see you walk away

there ain’t no ‘i’ in team, but you know there is a ‘me’

you can’t spell ‘awesome’ without ‘me’

wanna hang out?

it’s nice to have a friend

something gave you the nerve to touch my hand

my love was as cruel as the cities i lived in

there are so many lines that i’ve crossed unforgiven

i’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

i don’t wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

i don’t wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you

i’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, & now i see daylight

luck of the draw only draws the unlucky, & so i became the butt of the joke

i wounded the good & i trusted the wicked ; clearing the air, i breathed in the smoke

i once believed love would be black & white, but it’s golden

i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden like daylight

you gotta step into the daylight & let it go

i wanna be defined by the things i love, not the things that i hate, or the things i’m afraid of, or the things that haunt me in the middle of the night

you are what you love

#y'all knew this was coming #i've had this drafted & ready for days #( mine. )#( memes. )

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

Text

Chosen Stories From the War #16: Boat Ride to Vorontsovo

“Mail time!”

The bar was relatively empty, only a few other soldiers having set up in there for the afternoon. Princess and Tisiphone were arguing about something again, but this time Tiwaz was there as well to remind them to please keep the conversation at an indoor level. Mithridates had set up with his laptop in the corner and was playing (and losing) a game of chess against the computer.

Kon-Mai and Gur-Rai had shoved aside the remains of their breakfast (which was just green tea for Kon-Mai and a piece of toast with spicy mustard for Gur-Rai) and were now sitting across from each other with a deck of Uno cards. Neither of them knew how to play, however, so they had pretty much been making up a totally new game that was somewhat of a combination between Poker, Go Fish and BS.

At the sound of the yell, everyone looked up to attention as Bradford strolled into the bar, waving a stack of envelopes. The other soldiers got to their feet and rushed over, hands out like eager little pigeons awaiting breadcrumbs. Kon-Mai returned her attention to the cards in her hand, confident that there would be no mail for her. Gur-Rai, however, stood up and waved the Central Officer over.

“Central!” He called. “Anything for little ol’ me?”

“Actually.” Bradford walked over to them, thumbing through the huge pile before pulling out an envelope and handing it to Gur-Rai. “Here you go. And for your sister…” He pulled out another one and plopped it in front of Kon-Mai, who picked it up and stared at it in confusion. “That’s all.” Bradford began to walk off, but Kon-Mai jumped to her feet.

“Central, what is this?” Kon-Mai demanded. “We have no family to contact us. We should not be getting mail.”

“That’s your paycheck.” Bradford said casually.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Your paycheck.” Bradford looked up at her and chuckled. “...You didn’t think you were working here for free, did you?”

Kon-Mai blinked, completely taken aback. “...What...what do I do with this?”

“Have you never gotten a paycheck?”

“The Elders weren’t big on fair wages.” Gur-Rai said as he tore open his envelope and looked over his pay stub. “Oooh. Not bad, Central.”

“What use do we have for money?” Kon-Mai puzzled.

“Well...it depends.” Bradford shrugged. “Some of the refugee camps have convenience stores that still take Old World cash.”

Kon-Mai rolled her eyes. “I have little need for such small trinkets.”

Bradford scowled. “Well maybe the Black Market is more up your alley.”

“The what?” Gur-Rai lit up like a Christmas tree upon hearing those words.

“Yeah, ask the Commander about it. I gotta hand out the rest of these.” He stopped as Dhar-Mon entered the bar, and dug out another paper. “Hieromonk.”

“Hm?” Dhar-Mon took the paper, his reaction quite similar to Kon-Mai’s. “What is this?”

“That is your paycheck, Brother~” Gur-Rai chuckled.

“Central, I cannot accept this!” Kon-Mai shook her head. “This is valuable funding that XCOM needs to acquire weaponry!”

“You’re a soldier like any other. You get a paycheck.” Bradford said. “Look, if you don’t want it, just take the cash and give it to another soldier. Give it to Tygan. Or the Commander. Or me, hell knows I could use a raise. It’s your money.” He griped like an old man as he walked away, leaving Kon-Mai standing there, dumbfounded.

“You forget, Sister, XCOM soldiers aren’t mindless drones.” Gur-Rai folded his check. “They probably need more of a reason to stay than just loyalty to a cause.”

“But why give us this?” Dhar-Mon mused. “We would never leave. We have no place else to go.”

“Perhaps it’s the principal of the matter.” Gur-Rai stood up. “In any case, I definitely want to know more about this…’Black Market.’ that Central mentioned~”

They stopped by the “clerk”, which was just a safe in the armory connected to a computer that still ran Windows 7. Kon-Mai stuck her check into the little slot a the bottom and stared at the screen as that god-forsaken loading symbol sat there, taunting them, for a good two minutes until another screen finally popped up.

“Please select your currency.” The computer said aloud.

Kon-Mai looked back at her brothers for help. “What currency is even accepted at the markets?”

“I guess it depends on what country it’s in.” Gur-Rai leaned over her shoulder and read through the options. “Oh, go for American.”

“Why?”

“Because America is always the country you see in movies.” He shrugged.

“I do not believe America exists any more.” Dhar-Mon said.

“Still, most people will recognize it! So their currency has to be valuable!”

Kon-Mai grimaced. “I think not.” She looked around for a moment, finally clicking on Japanese Yen.

“Oh, fine then. Don’t listen to me.”

“Shut up.” She smirked as she typed in the amount she wanted to withdraw. The machine whirred for a moment, shuddering worryingly, and then opened up a slot and spat out a wad of bills and a few coins. Kon-Mai took them, counted them meticulously, and then tucked them into her belt.

“Okay, my turn.” Gur-Rai pushed though as Kon-Mai turned to the door, where Dhar-Mon was still standing, reading over his check.

“Are you alright, Brother?”

He looked up at her, worry apparent on his face. “I simply do not feel right taking money from XCOM. After the grievous atrocities I committed…”

“Grievous atrocities?” A voice behind him giggled.

Dhar-Mon jumped, his palms glowing with psionic power, but behind him only stood Senuna.

“Commander!” He dropped to one knee, as though he were once again worshiping the Elders. Senuna at first seemed to smile at this, before she shook her head and patted his shoulder.

“No no no, up up.” She coaxed him gently. “No need for that, Dhar-Mon. I actually was just looking for you three!”

“Hello Commander!” Gur-Rai called as he dropped a handful of pennies onto the floor.

Senuna waved at him. “So. Shen and I were about to take a trip to the Black Market-”

Kon-Mai raised a brow. “We had heard about this ‘Black Market’ earlier. From Bradford.”

“‘Course you did!” Senuna winked. “So I thought, I COULD use my regular security detail, BUT, I also have a bunch of big, scary Chosen who I’m sure would love some time out! Whatddya say?”

“I say hell yes!” Gur-Rai called as he stuffed the dollar bills into his pocket.

“Do we need any specific currency?” Kon-Mai asked.

“Oh, no, the Black Market takes anything. Some traders will bitch about certain exchange rates but overall, if it’s money, they’ll take it!”

“Wonderful.” Kon-Mai looked to her eldest brother. “Dhar-Mon? What do you think?”

He hesitated for a moment. “If you and Gur-Rai both think it a good idea…”

“Brother, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Gur-Rai said.

“That is true but…” He didn’t say it, but Kon-Mai could see he did not want to leave the comfort of their little trio.

“So it’s settled then!” Senuna giggled and clapped. “Well I have to get ready, so meet me in the garage in...about 2 hours!”

Kon-Mai stared at Senuna in disbelief as she sauntered away, and Gur-Rai chuckled.

“How that woman became Commander will always be one of the world’s greatest mysteries.” He said.

The Avenger had landed near the ocean, dropping from it’s main deck a life vessel that could only hold a few people at most. Crammed inside this tiny boat were all three of the Chosen, Lily Shen, and Senuna herself who, under the black cloak that covered her, wore one of her best summer dresses with a garish flower print, thus requiring the cloak. In fact, they had all had to conceal themselves, and seemed to have blended in nearly perfectly with the night. The gentle hum of the boat was the only noise as they splish-splashed through the water towards the distant lights.

The buildings on the shore were dark and quiet, with nary a sign of life as they approached. Gur-Rai realized he was holding his breath, and forced himself to release it. His sister pushed herself further to the front, in front of her brothers as though to protect them.

As they got closer and closer to shore, they saw the eyes. The moving shadows of people watching them from the windows and on the corners, just barely there enough to see, but not identifiable. In fact Gur-Rai was beginning to question if they really were there at all. Perhaps he was imagining the little moving shapes…

Until, as they passed the docks, a group of men came seemingly from nowhere, guns trained on them. They were yelling something in Russian, and if Gur-Rai closed his eyes and listened, he could just barely make out the words “Stop! State your name! Who are you with?!”

“Ya Komandir XCOM.” Senuna said, in fluent Russian. “Menya zovut Senuna. Sprosite Ledi Guan-Yin, ona khorosho menya znayet.”

The men spoke among themselves for a minute, and one of them walked off into a nearby building. The silence was thicker than tar, until one man jabbed his rifle into Gur-Rai’s shoulder, yelling something else that he could only barely understand from snippets of long forgotten memory. “Why is ADVENT here?!”

He heard Kon-Mai hiss at that-she must have understood ‘ADVENT’ at least- and Senuna smiled and spoke to them again: “Ikh bol'she net s ADVENT. Teper' oni svobodnyye lyudi.”

“Razve oni ne Izbrannyye?” The man whacked Gur-Rai in the head with the mouth of his pistol.

“Sprosite Ledi Guan-Yin. Ona khotela by uslyshat', chto ty brosayesh' mne vyzov.” Senuna spat with fire in her voice.

The previous man came back and said something, to which the man with the gun spat into the boat and growled. Gur-Rai heard him say “You may go.”

Senuna bowed, and the boat prattled forward, the tall concrete buildings on either side of the canal slowly fencing them in, making them all claustrophobic. Gur-Rai felt Dhar-Mon reach out, and he took his hand, smiling back at him to comfort him.

The buildings began to thin out, and Kon-Mai leaned forward. “Why are we not stopping?”

“We’re not there yet.” Senuna whispered. “Leskino is just the gateway.”

“So where are we going?”

Senuna merely smiled at her. “You’ll know when you see it~”

The canal widened into a large, open bay, and once again the little boat was tossed against the waves of the dark waters. Dhar-Mon was squeezing Gur-Rai’s hand, and even Kon-Mai had shrunk back, clinging to her brothers. When Gur-Rai peered over the boat into the dark waters, he swore he felt something staring back at him from the depths, with teeth as sharp as his and twice the size, just waiting for one of them to take a tumble overboard…

He grabbed his sister around her shoulders and pulled her in close.

The boat bobbed and floated toward where the bay began to narrow once again, and Senuna pointed forward. “That way is where we’re going.”

Gur-Rai pried his eyes away from the dark, churning water, and gazed forward at the lights of the town cutting through the darkness. He saw other boats, some large, others smaller than their own, bobbing along the docks. Even from out here he could hear talking and shouting, and saw the dark figures of sailors hauling their cargo to shore.

“Vorontsovo.” Senuna said excitedly. “The Black Market.”

“Oh.” Gur-Rai smiled despite his trembling insides. “Sounds magnificent.”

“It’s a hive of scum and villainy. You’ll love it.” Shen winked.

As the boat got closer, he could see even more of the colorful silhouettes that surrounded them. The boats parked there were massive, towering ships of antiquity, some made of steel and concrete, others only of wood. They parked the little dinghy in between two such ships, and Senuna leapt out and dragged it to shore. She was surprisingly strong.

Shen got out next, and Gur-Rai joined her, helping his sister from the boat first, then his brother. Now that they were on land, they conspicuously towered over everyone at the docks, and yet no one seemed to pay them any mind, so lost they were in the hustle to unload cargo.

Senuna put her hood down and unbuttoned her cloak, letting it hang loosely around her shoulders and revealing her obnoxious dress. “We made it, everyone!” She waved them over. “This way! And don’t fall behind, it’s easy to get lost in this place~”

They weaved their way into the crowd, and as they did, the colors and sounds increased in intensity. They pushed their way past the sailors, some of whom already had drinks in hand, and the small stands and vendors sitting on blankets grew more and more frequent, lining the streets. Many of them called out to the group, beckoning them over to sample their wares. Occasionally one would slip a glance at the Chosen under their hoods, and the calling would promptly stop.

Gur-Rai’s sharp eye caught the sight of several women, and a few men, wearing extremely flashy, garish outfits, even for this place. A he followed one with is eyes, a blonde girl with a long red ball gown, she glanced at Kon-Mai and whistled to her, waving and giggling. Gur-Rai huffed as Kon-Mai looked between them in confusion.

“What?” Kon-Mai looked around. “What is going on?”

“Don’t worry about her, Sister.” He chuckled. “She’s just a...lady of the night.”

“Of the night? Like me?” She smiled. “They are stealth warriors?”

“Um...no.” He chuckled. “They’re not.”

“But you said-”

“They’re prostitutes.” Shen called back to them, and Gur-Rai watched as Kon-Mai’s blue skin turned purple with realization and embarrassment.

The street grew more packed as they walked, and Gur-Rai looked up at the buildings towering above them. The light of the moon illuminated the tops of the rickety buildings, and he saw that the old concrete structures were also full of people, leaning out the windows and watching those who shopped below.

“See that building up there?” Shen pointed towards the end of the road, where a large cliff face blocked off the market. Within the stone, there seemed to be carved an old temple, great and looming, with dark windows spreading across it’s walls.

“Spooky.”

“Yep. That’s where we’re going.” She sounded cheery. “I can’t wait for you guys to meet...well, you’ll see.”

Gur-Rai looked up at the temple again, and swore he saw a figure standing there. Watching them.

Senuna removed her cloak and draped it over one arm, despite the temperature continuing to drop as the night went on. Gur-Rai and Dhar-Mon were huddling together for warmth, the big man providing a significant amount of it, and even Kon-Mai (who was naturally cold) was beginning to shiver.

Shen ran up ahead of them, towards two armed guards who stood at the end of the road. She spoke to them, not in Russian this time, but Chinese. They nodded to her, stepping aside and bowing to her, as she gestured for the others to follow her through the now open gates. “This way!”

“How’d you do that?” Gur-Rai asked, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

“You’ll see in a bit.” She smiled as they made their way down the stone pathway.

Instead of a garden of plants, the front yard of this shrine was populated with large spires of colorful rocks, placed within indentations in the sandy ground. Strange patterns had been carved into the sand, and Kon-Mai’s eyes widened with interest. “What a lovely arrangement.” She mused softly.

“Yeah…” Shen chuckled. “Nothing grows here, so….”

“Guan-Yin had to improvise.” Senuna chuckled, and pushed open the large metal door of the building.

It was dark inside, illuminated only by dim crystals of various colors, drilled into spots all over the walls. The main hall was empty, the ceiling tall and looming and the walls made of ebony stone so cold and dark, it made it so their steps echoed off the stone walls. However, from a staircase to their right, another set of footsteps could be heard.

They turned, and Gur-Rai saw a woman who looked so much like Shen, he almost called her that.

She descended the stairs in a purple dress that looked much too plain for someone who lived in this building, and her hair was tied in a bun so messy, most of her hair was actually falling out around her shoulders.

“An-Yi.” The older woman’s stony, wrinkled face morphed into a smile, and she picked up her skirt and ran down the stairs, where Shen met her in a tight hug.

“Wǒ xiǎngniàn nǐ.” Shen pulled away and turned to her compatriots. “Guys, this is-”

“Lady Guan-Yin Shen. Owner and proprietor of the Hēi Shìchǎng, Mayor of Vorontsovo, and proud mother of An-Yi Shen.” The woman said, her back straight and her eyes piercing as she scanned the three of them. Her gaze lingered on the three Chosen for an uncomfortable minute, and then she turned to Senuna. “Now, Sīlìng, what have you brought into my city?”

“Mom, these are our...new recruits~” Shen giggled. “The, formerly, Elders’ Chosen.”

Lady Guan-Yin sighed, closing her eyes in familiar resignation.

“I told you I could do it~” Senuna was giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Of course you did, but do you blame me for doubting you?”

“Of course I do. You should know better by now!”

“Nǐ yītuánzāo.” Guan-Yin snapped at her.

“Mom.” Shen said. “Think we can head upstairs? We’ve been walking a long time and my feet hurt.”

“Of course An-Yi. Where are my manners!” Guan-Yin bowed to the Chosen. “Please follow me. We shall conduct business in the drawing room.”

“Business?” Dhar-Mon asked.

“Of course.” Guan-Yin smiled. “That is why you’re here, is it not?”

The drawing room was significantly more comfortable, with velvet pillows and curtains and colorful wallpaper coating the walls. There was a hookah on the table that Kon-Mai had smacked Gur-Rai for trying to take a hit of, and in the corner was a small stove that was boiling mint tea. The room seemed to be a mix of decor from all over the world, and all of it looked rare and expensive. Dhar-Mon was enthralled with some of the tapestries on the walls, depicting stylized scenes of ancient warriors, while Kon-Mai had settled into her lotus pose on one of the pillows, looking completely in her element.

Guan-Yin took the kettle off the stove and poured six cups of tea, which smelled strongly of mint. She handed the first one to Shen with a loving look, then passed the rest around to her other guests.

“You have impeccable taste, Lady Guan-Yin.” Dhar-Mon said as he took his cup. “Many of this art has not been seen in...quite some time.”

“I am very resourceful.” She replied, narrowing her eyes at him. “ADVENT can’t destroy everything, and what they miss, I keep.”

“It is certainly a collection to be proud of.” Kon-Mai said. “You control this market, then? All of it?”

“Of course I do!” Guan-Yin said with a smile that seemed somewhat forced. “I built this place from the ground up, you know. It started as just me and my little shrine, and became something truly grand.”

“Incredible.” Gur-Rai nodded. “All this under the nose of ADVENT?”

“Absolutely. ADVENT is very stupid.” Guan-Yin sat down in a large, ornate chair and crossed her legs, tucking her purple skirt around her knees.

Dhar-Mon looked taken aback at her forwardness. “...I...suppose…”

“Yes. They are clueless. They don’t know us humans, how we think, how we feel. They barely have a hold over the territory they do control. It takes very little effort to go around them, and would take even less to force them out.” She sat back and looked to Senuna. “You wanted to make a deal, yes?”

“Yes.” Senuna scooted closer. “Shen told me you came into possession of some plans for the Hellweave Armor.”

Guan-Yin looked over at her daughter. “Are you running your mouth again?”

“I can’t help it! I got excited!” Shen giggled.

Guan-Yin looked back at Senuna. “Maybe I did.”

“Mhm. Any chance we could get a jump on that?”

“Just because my daughter favors you doesn’t mean I do.” Guan-Yin leaned on her hand. “Besides I already have a buyer. The Golden Horde is interested and they have the coin to back it.”

“Guan~” Senuna chuckled. “I’m good for much more than coins. You know that~”

“Do I, Sīlìng?” Guan-Yin raised a curious brow. “Do I know that?”

“Well you husband did.” Gur-Rai piped up. “He worked for XCOM, didn’t he? This’d be a nice tribute to his memory.”

A cold silence fell over the room, and Shen hissed at him, making a slashing motion across her throat.

“My husband.” Guan-Yin said softly, her teacup shaking in her hand. “Yes. My husband. He loved XCOM. More than he loved me.”

“Oh boy.” Senuna whispered.

“And certainly more than he loved his daughter!” Guan-Yin snapped. “Do not get me STARTED on my husband, who uprooted his entire family to go chase a half-baked dream in the U.S.”

“But XCOM was a government fund-” Gur-Rai shut up as his sister dug her claws into the back of his neck.

“Did he ASK me if I wanted to relocate? No he did not! We were perfectly fine in Taiwan and all of a sudden, I have to leave behind MY entire family, An-Yi never even got to see her grandparents again before the aliens attacked!” She stood up, leaning forward with her hands on the table. “And when XCOM fell, when his little escapade proved useless, MY HUSBAND was more obsessed with protecting his damn ROBOTS, than he was his own wife and daughter!”

“Mom.” Shen whimpered. “Stop, we get it.”

“So no, Madron, I don’t give XCOM any special treatment. I had to struggle and canive and claw my way up here, all to ensure my daughter and I didn’t DIE in this wasteland MY HUSBAND left behind. I have other customers besides them, and I don’t rely on any one person to make this market as prosperous as it is. That was all my hard work. Me.” She sat back down, silence hanging over the room.

Dhar-Mon cleared his throat. “With respect, Commander, I think it would be best to leave you to conduct business with Lady Guan-Yin...alone.” He motioned for his siblings to follow him.

“Agreed.” Kon-Mai stood, pulling Gur-Rai to his feet. “Perhaps we shall sample some of the storefronts.”

“Yeah…” Shen stood slowly. “Do you mind if I go with them, Mom? I can...make sure they don’t get lost.”

“Of course, Bǎobǎo, just be careful! Tell them I sent you!” Guan-Yin called to them, reaching out and squeezing Shen’s hand as the mechanic slipped out beside the Chosen.

Kon-Mai handed the vendor a few metal coins and gave one of the small fried confections to Dhar-Mon, who sniffed it curiously and gave a confused look. Gur-Rai broke off a piece of his and held it up near Shen’s mouth. Shen ignored him.

“Come on.” He chuckled. “I don’t even need to eat this, you do.”

“I’m not that hungry.” She muttered.

“You paid for it.” He said. “Don’t wanna let it go to waste, do you?”

“Perhaps there is a scrap vendor around.” Kon-Mai mused. “You could acquire some new parts, Shen.”

“Mom keeps all the worthwhile stuff at the shrine.” Shen sighed.

Dhar-Mon took a bite of the fried dough, looking around. He pointed to a shop window and muttered something around the food in his mouth.

“Pardon, Brother?” Kon-Mai looked over. “Oh!” She gasped. “A fabric vendor!”

“You planning on making drapes?” Gur-Rai asked.

“I am planning on making myself several new articles of clothing!” She retorted.

“What, your XCOM allotted clothes aren't good enough?” He smirked. “I thought we had all we needed on the ship.”

“Well, I was considering making you some fitting pants as well, but since you are so very rude-”

“Oh beautiful and gracious sister of mine!” Gur-Rai bowed obnoxiously. “You are most generous to think of me, your humble brother, in his hour of need. And yes I desperately need pants.”

“That is better.” She smirked. “Dhar-Mon, would you like to accompany me?”

“Of course, Little Sister.”

Kon-Mai waved to Shen and Gur-Rai as she and their brother disappeared into the crowd, and Gur-Rai was left alone with Shen once again.

He turned to her. “Anything you wanna see, Lady Lily?”

“Don’t call me that.” She muttered.

He paused. “...Okay, I’m sorry about earlier. But in my defense, how was I to know your mother would throw a fit?”

Shen didn’t say anything at first, and Gur-Rai had half a mind to stop talking. Unfortunately, the other half won out, and he kept talking.

“It was stupid of me.” He followed up. “So, I apologize.”

“It’s...not your fault. You didn’t know.” She sighed. “I just wish I could bring up Dad without her throwing a tantrum about it.”

“It’s a shame.” He nodded, grabbing her arm and gently pulling her through a tough spot in the crowd. “From his ADVENT files, he seemed like a remarkable man.”

“...He was.” She said softly. “And, don’t get me wrong, Bradford and the Commander spare no details about him, they’ll tell you anything and everything they know. But…” She crossed her arms. “I just wish I remembered him as a dad. Not as Raymond Shen but...as Dad.”

“...How old were you?” Gur-Rai asked. “When he…?”

“Eleven.” She said. “I know it doesn’t seem that long ago but...I’m 33 now, and I can’t even picture his face anymore.”

Gur-Rai looked away. “Well, surely he left you something. I thought humans wrote out wills for their loved ones.”

“Not that I’ve ever seen. Honestly, I’d just love to ask my mom what he was like before all this…”

“If the previous conversation is any indicator, that is not a good idea.”

“I know, Gur-Rai. I’ve tried.” She looked up. “The most I’ve been able to garner is, their marriage was not great.”

“I can’t imagine!” Gur-Rai chuckled. “She seems so sweet and mild.”

Shen snorted in laughter. “Not Mom. She was a hardass even when Dad was alive.” She sighed. “...Taiwan wasn’t big on women being independent. I think she had other dreams besides raising me. Dreams of owning her own business…”

“Well.” Gur-Rai raised his arms. “She has that now, the greatest business on planet Earth, quite literally. And she did that with you on her hip, Lily.”

Shen smiled. “Yeah…” She sniffled. “She may have hated Dad but...she always made it clear she loved me.”

“At least you had that.” He chuckled. “Better one parent who loves you, than three who despise you.”

“Sounds like you have experience with that.”

“You think your parents argued?” Gur-Rai smirked but it was forced. “Our parents alternated between constant screaming and constant fucking. And if they weren’t screaming at each other, they were screaming at something I or one of my siblings did. Usually me.”

“God...that sounds awful.” Shen said. “And you said three? How many were there?”

“The three who ‘birthed’ us were the head honchos. They were married, all three of them, but no one else got to be in on that inner circle so it wasn’t an open marriage by any means.” He said. “The others didn’t have much to do with us besides checking in once in a while. I think Kompira made Kon-Mai’s sword but that’s all the contact those two had.” He shook his head. “No, the big three were in charge of us, for better or worse. And oh, they just set the best example~” Gur-Rai faked a gagging motion.

“Huh…” Shen chuckled. “Suddenly a LOT makes sense~”

He nudged her, laughing, and she stumbled. As he dove to catch her, his foot slipped and the two landed on the ground in a heap.

“Ow.” Shen grimaced. “Get off me, you big blue ogre.”

“My sincerest apologies, Lady Lily.” He knelt dramatically as she stood. “Please, allow me to lick your shoes~”

“Fuck off!” She cackled.

“Where did they get Tussar silk?!” Kon-Mai gasped, running her hand over the fabric. “I had thought it all lost in the raid of Bhagalpur.”

“Lost but not forgotten, it seems.” Dhar-Mon said as he, too, browsed the rolls of cloth. His hand brushed over a purple velvet dress, and he lifted it from the rack to view it further. “This is old, from long before the invasion...I can sense the history of it.”

“Let me see it.” His sister rushed over to the fabric he was viewing and he held it out for her.

“A connoisseur of historical artifacts, are you, Sister?” He raised a brow.

“Human history is so...rich and vibrant.” She took the velvet from his hands. “I can feel it as well. This dress is as old as the Black Plague of the 1400′s.” She smiled. “I would wear it myself, but I am afraid I would ruin it.”

“How would you ruin it?”

“My great height.” She growled. “No human woman was ever as tall as me, and if they were they did not wear dresses like this.”

“You could undo the stitches and tailor it.” Dhar-Mon suggested. “Make the dress your own.”

She shook her head. “No, no, I could not bear to defile a work of art such as this.” She placed it back on the rack and went back to looking at the silks. “Tell me, Brother, what clothes would you wear in a casual setting?”

He blushed slightly. “I was...hardly ever without my armor. When I was, I was being bathed by my attendants, or was in my sleeping chamber..”

She chuckled. “What of your priestly robes?”

“They are...quite formal.” He admitted. “When you say casual, I assume you ask what I will wear when socializing in the Avenger. I would rather have something...innocuous.”

She looked surprised. “Perhaps Bhandasura’s attack did more to you than the doctor assumed, because the old Dhar-Mon wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

He looked away. “Yes...the old Dhar-Mon had much to learn.”

“Well then, my dearest brother, perhaps a woolen sweater like Gur-Rai’s? Or something a bit more practical?” She abandoned the silk and began sifting through the sturdier fabric. “How much hard labor do you expect to partake in?”

“All the soldiers require of me.”

“Hm.” She looked over the racks. “Perhaps denim then, or a blend, something that can be used for both comfort and the occasional strong-man activity.” She chuckled. “Your shirts, however, I’ll make softer.”

“When did you take interest in sewing?” Dhar-Mon asked as he watched her prattle away.

“When my armor became severely damaged and I had to repair it on my own.” She replied. “It became a relaxing activity, and I would spend hours sewing and improving my clothing.”

“The...Elders did not help you?”

She hesitated. “...Vox Kompira reforged a few of the plates. But the cloth...no, I had to do that myself. And when it’s a matter of life of death…” She smiled. “I simply became good at it.”

Dhar-Mon hesitated, still thumbing through the clothing racks. The words were on his lips but he was reluctant to speak them.

“Cotton maybe…? No, too flimsy. Oh, perhaps Muslin Soft-” She looked up at Dhar-Mon. “Is something the matter, Brother?”

He looked up, was about to say no, don’t worry, all is well, but instead he opened his mouth and blurted out- “Can you teach me to sew?”

Kon-Mai blinked, stunned, while Dhar-Mon turned purple and wished for death.

“I...well…” He stammered. “You do not have to. Not at all. It is very dear to you, this activity, and you do not have to entertain…”

She reached out and put a hand on his arm, and when he met her gaze, she was smiling.

“Dhar-Mon.” She said. “I would be honored to teach you to sew.”

He squirmed a bit. “I know it is not the most…” He cleared his throat and fell silent.

“The most what?” She asked.

“The most…” He was so afraid to look her in the eyes. “This is not an insult towards you, Sister, I swear, but...it is not very masculine.”

She scoffed. “Dhar-Mon, I’m surprised at you. To let something like gender perception hold you back?” She saw him begin to crumple and hugged him. “No no, I am just joking with you.”

“Will anyone think of me differently if I practice such a skill?” He asked, feeling like a child in her strong, motherly arms.

“If they do, then they will not think long before my blade severs their head from their body.” She pulled away and squeezed his shoulders. “It is a skill, Dhar-Mon, and I am happy to teach you it.”

He took her hands. “...Thank you, Kon-Mai.”

“Oh Brother, it’s what I’m here for.” She smiled. “Let us make our purchase and return to Gur-Rai, before he does something I’ll regret.”

“Is there anything else you wanted?” He questioned as she gathered the fabrics and patterns she had chosen.

Kon-Mai thought for a moment. “Perhaps some…” She shook her head. “It’s nothing useful.”

“Sister!” He put his hands on his hips. “You dare judge your interests on their practical application? Activities can be enjoyed for their own sake.”

She burst into a raspy laugh at the sight of him. “Well...I did want to peruse the shops, in case they had any...cosmetics.”

“Cosmetics…?”

She tapped her cheeks. “Make-up. I…don’t have any at the Avenger, and while it’s rare that I wear any I do miss being able to...pretty myself for special occasions.”

“But you are already pretty.”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you not just tell me to stop judging my interests based on use? I know that make-up by itself is going to do nothing to improve my appearance, but I really...appreciate the art.”

Dhar-Mon seemed to take a minute to process this, then something clicked in his head and he nodded. “If that is the case, I shall help you find what you desire.”

She smirked. “I think this has become a mutually beneficial exchange. I give you sewing lessons, and you pay for my cosmetics~”

“Yes.” He put his hand on her shoulder and the two made their way to the front.

“How long should we give the Commander?” Shen asked, pulling a piece of cotton candy off of Gur-Rai’s stack and shoving it into her mouth.

“Dunno. She’s talking to your mom, I thought you’d have more of a time frame for this.” Gur-Rai let the piece of candy sit on his black tongue for a moment before putting it in his mouth. “Finally a food that melts on contact for everyone else, too.”

“Is that what eating is like for you?” Shen whistled. “That’s sad.”

“Our parents figured since they don’t need to eat, we don’t either.”

“Your parents can suck a dick.”

“They can’t actually. No mouth.”

Shen thought for a moment. “...Do they have other holes?”

Gur-Rai blinked. “I don’t know, Lily. I didn’t ask my fuckwad abusive masters if they like to stick things up their butts.”

Shen snorted, spitting out a glob of cotton candy spittle, covering her mouth as she muttered “I am so sorry oh my god.”

“You’re fine.” He flashed a toothy grin. “Karma works fast.” He looked up, and his smile suddenly dropped.

“What’s wrong?” Shen asked, wiping her mouth with the corner of her shirt.

“Hey, don’t look,” Gur-Rai hissed “but there’s someone watching us.”

Shen immediately began scanning the crowd. “Where?”

“Didn’t I just say not to look?” Gur-Rai motioned with his head across the way, where a masculine figure was leaning against the wall of a shop, staring at them.

“Maybe he’s a prostitute.” Shen shrugged.

“No, he doesn’t have the look.”

“There’s a look?”

“There’s a look, Lily, trust me.” He looked away. “But I think he does want something.”

Shen looked over. The person was still standing there. “What?”

“Dunno yet.”

“We could ask.”

“Ah, patience my dear Lily.” Gur-Rai tapped his eyebrow. “A true detective must deduce from context-HEY!”

Shen stood up and walked over to the figure, and Gur-Rai saw her strike up a conversation just as he heard footsteps, and saw his siblings returning to where they were waiting.

“Why do you look sour?” Kon-Mai asked, an old cloth shopping bag draped over her arm. The rest of the bags and boxes were being held by Dhar-Mon.

He pointed across the way where Shen was still talking to the figure, although now she was doing less talking and more nodding.

“Who is that person?” Dhar-Mon asked.

“I dunno.” Gur-Rai crossed his arms. “They were just...staring at us. Lily decided to be stupid and go talk-HEYY!” He cried as Kon-Mai followed Shen’s example and went to join the conversation.

Dhar-Mon looked down at his little brother, who was now pouting.

“You gonna go too?” Gur-Rai grumbled.

Dhar-Mon simply took a seat beside his brother.

Gur-Rai smiled and leaned his head on his arm. “At least we have each other, Big Guy.”

Shen whistled and waved them over. “GUYS! C’MERE!”

Dhar-Mon looked at Gur-Rai again. “I believe this may be of interest to us.”

Gur-Rai sighed. “WHAT IS IT, LILY?”

“I GOT US A DEAL! COME HERE!”

Gur-Rai’s eyebrows shot up. “A DEAL? WHAT KIND OF DEAL?”

“BROTHER, GET YOUR SCRAWNY LITTLE FORM OVER HERE!” Kon-Mai shouted across as the figure opened the door to the building they were standing against.

Gur-Rai finally stood, followed by Dhar-Mon, and the two followed the other members of their party inside, where the aforementioned mysterious figure was holding the door, seemingly waiting for them.

“Greetings.” They said with a smile. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Guys, this is Japheth.” Shen said, as she began to browse the incredibly dark shop. “He said he’s heard of you guys before, and he’s definitely heard of me, so he gave us a wicked discount!”

“It is my pleasure.” Japheth bowed. “I must say, Madron, I have been expecting you for some time.”

“You have?” Dhar-Mon looked at him warily.

“Oh yes.” Japheth smiled knowingly. “I saw it.”

“If I understand correctly,” Kon-Mai said as she sat down in a rickety wood chair “Japheth is a diviner.”

Gur-Rai sighed. “A fortune teller, Sis? Really?”

She scoffed. “In a world where the power of one’s mind can reveal the deepest of secrets and even connect those a thousand miles away, fortune tellers are where you draw the line? Truly?”

“Yeah, because most of them are hacks.” He looked over to Japheth, “No offense.”

“None taken. I understand, it is good to be wary of those trying to extort you.” Japheth went back to his table, upon which there was nothing but a bowl of water with some herbs. Behind him, leaning against purple felted walls, some magic trinkets and tarot cards were scattered around haphazardly. “That’s why I’m willing to perform for free.”

“Free?” Gur-Rai’s eyes shot wide open. “I like free.”

“I thought you would. And I’m not going to try and scam three large, blue monsters who could lay waste to me with a thought.” He nodded to Kon-Mai. “No offense, Miss.”

She rolled her eyes.

Dhar-Mon gently put the purchased items on the floor of the shop and stood beside his sister, looking over the table. “...I know this plant well. That is Silene Capensis.” He pointed to the bowl of water, or more specifically, one of the herbs floating in the bowl of water.

“Right you are. It helps me with my rituals.” Japheth nodded. “But I try not to rely on my herbs to determine for me. They simply help me see more clearly.” He pointed to the bowl. “I have Heimia Salicifolia and Artemisa Vulgaris in there as well.”

“I understood, like three of those words.” Gur-Rai said as he, too, leaned over Kon-Mai’s shoulder.

“I assume, Miss, you’d like to go first?” Japheth asked Kon-Mai.

In response, she shot her brothers a look that told them to back off immediately. Once they did, she put her hands on the table, palms up.

He smiled. “You’ve done this before then?”

“No.” She simply replied.

“Hm.” He took a bit of the water from the bowl and ran it over her palms, between the lines in her hands and her fingers, and then took her hands and closed his eyes.

Dhar-Mon shivered as a wave of something familiar came over him. He knew this feeling, similar to what he felt with Malinalli during his practice with her. But where hers was passionate and excited, this...was older. Deeper.

Japheth opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment. “You have no idea the wreckage left behind you.”

Kon-Mai’s face fell, and she looked like she wanted to pull away, but she didn’t.

“Your past is rife with destruction and sorrow, a tale of woe to rival the gods. Every happiness you sought was stripped from you, until they left you with nothing, empty, the perfect warrior. A puppet.”

Kon-Mai grit her teeth.

“Your present is warm, but something waits underneath. You have found emotions that you, Kon-Mai, have never felt before, and yet these feelings are familiar to you. You do not know why.”

Gur-Rai stifled a cough, and Kon-Mai glanced at him briefly. He saw distress in her eyes.

“But your future…” Japheth hesitated, and Kon-Mai felt her skin prickling. “Your future is full of love.”

“...Love?” Kon-Mai furrowed her brows.

“Love.” Japheth repeated. “This love will grow within you, expanding like a galaxy and burning like the sun. It will be yours to nurture, yours to care for, yours to admire no matter the form it takes. You will know fear in its presence, fear unlike any in the cosmos. But you mustn't balk from it.” He opened his eyes. “You will know what to do when the time comes.”

Kon-Mai pulled her hands away, seeming like she was in a trance. Dhar-Mon helped her to her feet just as Gur-Rai took her place in the chair.

“Okay, my turn.” Gur-Rai put his hands on the table, palms up. “Lets see what kind of trouble I’m going to get into.”

Japheth chuckled as he smeared the herb water over Gur-Rai’s hands. He took his hands, and his eyes grew wide for a moment, before he closed them.

“You have survived so much.” Japheth sounded impressed. “What brought most to their knees, you took in stride, no matter the pain, no matter your wounds, or how deep they were.”

Gur-Rai smiled slightly.

“But even the strongest diamond can be worn down, and you are simply waiting for the day you do shatter.”

Gur-Rai’s smile fell.

“You want to trust in what is real, but you are convinced it shall be torn away, like it was before. Like everything, and everyone. And you are convinced it shall be you that deals the final blow.”

“Yeah, great, please tell me my future involves me getting rich and moving to a tropical island.” Gur-Rai said jovially, but his voice was shaking.

Japheth chuckled. “Your future is made up of many voices, and many lives. You have known many, and you will know many more. You will know those who will betray you, those who will destroy you, and those who will shatter you before you finally find the ones who will put you back together and hold you.”

Gur-Rai yanked his hands away, and Japheth’ eyes snapped open.

“I’m sorry.” Japheth said. “That one was very intense.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Gur-Rai jumped up and moved near to the back wall, where he seemed to retreat into himself. Kon-Mai went over to him, and stood beside him, offering her arm to him. He didn’t look at her.

“I suppose it is my turn.” Dhar-Mon sat down, the chair creaking under him, and put his hands on the table.

Japheth smiled. “A fellow psionics user. This will be interesting. I will try not to frighten you~”

Dhar-Mon scoffed. “I do not frighten easily!”

“Hm.” Japheth took Dhar-Mon’s hands. “That is a lie.”

Dhar-Mon growled, but he held his hands still, feeling the energy from Japheth’ grasp sweep over him.

“Oh dear…” Japheth seemed to cringe. “There is so much you don’t remember. And yet you do, just under the surface...that will be painful to dig up again. Your past was so happy until…” Japheth sighed. “Well, the imprint is always there. Nothing is ever really forgotten.”

Dhar-Mon’s lip twitched.

“Your present; it is full of uncertainty. You have been one way for so long, now something else is expected of you, and you do not know how to fulfill it.”

Dhar-Mon lowered his head. “Just tell me...will I fail?”

“Depends on what you mean by fail.” Japheth smiled. “But your future burns with an intensity I rarely see. You care very deeply for someone, don’t you?”

Dhar-Mon looked up, almost frightened...and slowly nodded.

“She is all around you. I see her in your past, present and future. She is more powerful than she knows. But you know.” Japheth chuckled. “Don’t you?”

Dhar-Mon’s lip quivered.

“This fire you feel in your chest will be your guiding light in the darkness. But it will consume you, and it will consume all and everything in its path, ADVENT and XCOM alike.” Japheth leaned forward. “The light of your love will be the spark that sets off the fire of Rome.”

Dhar-Mon sat in silence as Japheth let go of his hands.

“...Are you alright?”

Dhar-Mon nodded, stood up, and bowed. “...Thank you.”

“Of course.” Japheth beckoned Shen over, but she shook her head.

“No thanks. I like being surprised.” She winked. “But let me know if you ever start offering lessons! I’d love to learn how to do that!”

“This is very interesting.” Guan-Yin set the diagrams to the side. “A war hammer and a sword? That might actually get you something valuable.”

“The actual weapons aren’t for sale.” Senuna smiled knowingly. “But with those schematics…”

“Perhaps.” Guan-Yin looked over them again. “Someone will be able to replicate it. You know humans.”

“Yes.” Senuna sighed wistfully. “I do. So, how about that Hellweave Armor?”

Guan-Yin sighed. “...Fine. I shall send you the blueprints. Happy, Sīlìng?”

“Very.” Senuna began to stand. “If that is all-”

“There is one more thing.” Guan-Yin beckoned her to sit back down, and Senuna raised a brow as she sat.

“Oh? Do I have to pay extra?”

Guan-Yin shook her head, and her face was suddenly very serious, even moreso than before. “My little birds have told me of something that ADVENT is holding.”

Senuna grimaced, but she did look interested. “Is it another weapon?”

“No, Sīlìng, it’s not a weapon. It’s a person.” Guan-Yin leaned forward, her eyes soft with tears. “My source has the location of Shaojie Zhang.”

Senuna audibly gasped, covering her mouth. “Chilong? He’s alive?!”

“He is alive, though for how much longer I do not know.” Guan-Yin grasped Senuna’s arm tightly. “I suggest your team go to rescue him as soon as you can, Sīlìng. You and I both know what ADVENT will do to him if you don’t.”

(Is it 4:30 in the morning? Yes. But I was gonna get this out today one way or another! I just could not wait for this reveal.

I’ve had so many ideas for the Black Market, putting them all together was fun. The location was actually taken from my S.O’s XCOM 2 game, where the Black Market is near Russia. It was also partially his idea to have Shen’s mom be the Black Market leader, because we never see her mom, and I feel that opportunity should have been explored much more!)

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom the chosen #xcom assassin #chosen assassin #xcom hunter #chosen hunter #xcom warlock #chosen warlock #lily shen

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adonis-koo · 5 years

Text

Three’s a crowd

| 4 |

Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was suppose to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader,

Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 10k

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Tags: Rough sex, body worship, spanking, hair pulling, degradation kink, daddy kink, thigh riding, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creamiepies, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), dom!jungkook,

Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

Jimin had that look on his face and the way he bit his lip, you could immediately tell he was not expecting you to reject him again for dinner. It was only 6 o’clock but you didn’t want to ruin your appetite for your date. You admittedly felt excited for it. You hadn’t been on a date in over a year, having resorted to one night stands made it easier since you never had time for a relationship. Any guy who had attempted often left upset at being put on the waitlist in priorities sense you worked two jobs.

To be honest you didn’t know what to tell any of them. It’s not that you were never interested or you had side pieces. You just worked the 3rd shift at a psych ward and 1st and 2nd at a bakery leaving you with four hours of sleep on a good day. Which you didn’t want to spend awake for a movie, or a walk in the park. Especially at some god awful fancy restaurant.

You supposed it was ironic sense that was exactly where you were being took but the difference was it was an actual upper class restaurant with food that was the price of your monthly rent. Jimin didn’t know any of this though. And quite frankly you figured it was for the best, he had been persistent about getting you to atleast eat with him.

You’d admire his effort but regardless he was going to be your step brother. You couldn’t live knowing you slept with him even if it was before your parents got married. You were warming up to the idea but not enough to ever fall through with it. He sighed not looking pleased at all, eyes flashing with irritation and his smile gritty, “You really like testing my patience, don’t you sweetheart?”

You couldn’t stop the scoff from escaping your lips, was he really going to act offended you were rejecting him? “No I’d like to remind you our parents are going to get married. That’s weird, I don’t know about you but that’s really weird for me.” You replied as you crossed your arms, leaning on your door frame.

Even if he was a good lay, and you’d imagine he definitely was- it didn’t matter. Sure your integrity wasn’t high but it was still there like damn, you weren’t just gonna let this happen. Not only was it weird but it wasn’t right either, you weren’t going to potentially compromise your mom’s happiness for an orgasm you could easily get else where.

Jimin exhaled sharply through his nose looking annoyed before regaining his cool demeanor though his stiff posture didn’t surpass you as he answered, “Yes but that doesn’t make us siblings. We’re adults Y/n. Legality doesn’t mean anything except in the states eyes.”

True as that was you still didn’t quite believe it, even if your mom never found out that didn’t change that fact that once wasn’t guaranteed. You weren’t an idiot, in situations like these it was a slippery slope, first it was just one time, then a second and third. Even if it wasn’t likely your mom would find out, if she did...You’d never be able to face her again, sighing you shook your head, “Well then if that’s the case you won’t have a problem waiting sense it doesn’t matter. Goodnight Jimin.” You shut the door promptly not wanting to carry on the weird feeling conversation any longer.

Laying back down in bed you rested with what time you could. Physically you could’ve kept going but while on vacation you had the luxury of being able to rest mentally. Something you just had to muddle your way through on a regular day at work. You were able to just rejuvenate after an hour before you heard a knock on the door.

Confused as to who it was you opened it unexpectedly. A maid was holding a large box, it was black and white with a long string of ribbon tied into a bow, “For you ma’am!” She said chipperly, handing the box over as you furrowed your brows. Watching her dash off to whatever duty she had next before shutting the door.

Setting the heavy box on the bed you untied the ribbon to open it. Gaping as you saw the wine red dress you had tried on earlier that day. Who could foot that kind of bill? Remembering the 4 million dollar mark flash in your eyes as you took it out of the box accompanied by a pair of matching heels. The bottom of the box though made you huff as you looked away. Picking up the small card message: Wear it for me babygirl - JJK

Except he wasn’t referring to the dress, no he was talking about the lingerie you’d imagine he must’ve picked out for you on his own time neatly folded at the bottom. He was thoughtful you’d give him that much.

It was nearing seven and you figured you’d might as well begin getting dressed. Peeling off your lounge wear before putting on the lingerie he had requested you wear first. The satin and lace was silky and just felt expensive, briefly you wondered how much it cost. It couldn’t be that expensive could it? Holding the lacy material in question you finally shook your head in disdain. It was just as soft as it felt in your hands. The fabric didn’t dig into your skin nor did it chafe. It was a bustier styled bra, cupping your breasts sitting them up high but it suited the cheeky panties well.

Considering Jungkook’s words from earlier he seemed to take on more classic designs. His taste in lingerie however was borderline raunchy, you supposed he had to make up for it somewhere along the line. Pulling the garner belt up before attaching your black sheer stockings to them. Resting for a minute before resuming your journey to finish getting dressed. Eventually you finished up your apparel, you had kept your makeup simple, knowing you’d most likely have a long night ahead if everything went well during your date.

No less then five minutes after 8 you heard a knock. Opening the door as you clipped on your left earring. Jungkook had a hand against the door frame, looking almost predatory before smirking down at you, “Glad to see you got my gift.”

You couldn’t stop the snort from escaping your lips as you curved an eyebrow before replying, “Mhm you didn’t miss a single detail in my outfit, huh?” Knowing exactly what you meant as he grabbed ahold of your waist. Gentle but firm enough to lead you as he let his lips brush against your ear, “And you were a good girl and wore everything, right?”

Finally smirking you looked up at him, two could play this game if he really wanted to be like that. Shrugging you put on a falsely innocent expression, “Well I’m dressed, aren’t I?”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly at your bratty response as his grip on your waist tightly slightly, “You wanna force me to check?” His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, you could feel heat dripping between your thighs as a couple walked past you both as he continued, “I won’t hesitate to put you against the wall baby, they can all stare if they want, I don’t care.”

His words made your face flush and your body warm as you glanced away, unable to trust your mouth to speak as he lifted his neck back up. Gauging your reaction before snickering, “Oh that turns you on doesn’t it? The idea of people watching huh?”

You had begun to squeeze your thighs together as you took a deep breath, he was right, you did like the idea of him forcing your legs open and letting your wet cunt be on display for anyone to see, clearing your throat you decided to keep your dirty thoughts in your head as you spoke up, “Not even gonna ask how my day was? Not very gentleman like.” Trying to deflect his dirty talk as a new crowd of people had gotten off the elevator headed your way.

Jungkook looked down at you curving an eyebrow before scoffing, leaning back down against your ear as he replied lowly, “Sorry baby, but you didn’t seem like you wanted a gentleman back in that dressing room. Did you?”

Crossing your arms you look up at him sharply, not realizing the glaring pout on your lips that made him chuckle. Making you all the more huffy as you looked away. He was right, of course he was. Jungkook seemed like someone who read body language well and you must have been an open book. Getting in the empty elevator as Jungkook hit the 13th floor button.

“Did you behave like I asked?” You honestly didn’t expect him to be so blunt. He wasn’t gonna talk like this the entire night was he? You weren’t sure you were gonna last long enough for it.

Swallowing thickly you nodded, the stickiness in your panties making you shift a tad uncomfortable as you forced an answer, “Almost killed me but yeah.”

Jungkook paused for a moment judging your body language for any lies, knowing you were telling the truth he let his lips tug into a loose smile, “Good, if it makes you feel any better I’ve been suffering too. I wanted to wait for you.” It was the odd intimacy in his words that made your cheeks flair again rather then the words themselves. He had really suffered the boner just out of anticipation for tonight? “Oh out of curiosity...” you glanced up at Jungkook, watching him lick his lips as he asked, “Have you told Jimin about tonight?”

“No...?” You extended the word as you curved an eyebrow, suddenly turning to face him as you crossed your arms. Why would he ask that? And furthermore why would you tell Jimin out of anyone any of your business that went on in your bed. Watching his expression become passively sheepish at your suddenly suspicion, “Why would I tell him?”

Jungkook glanced away from you, unsure of what to say for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Finally looking at you carefully as he shrugged, attempting to portray a casual response, “No reason. Just...be careful with him.” His eyes had such clear warning it was your turn to blink as your mouth became dry, “Not everyone is as upfront with their intentions as I am.”

What was that suppose to mean? Why did everyone speak in so cryptically? Sighing you shook your head deciding to just be blunt about this situation, “Look I’m not gonna sleep with him. Our parents are together and it’s just weird. Really weird. He can try all he wants but he isn’t gonna get anywhere.”

Jungkook only store at you for a minute, his eyes clouded with a strange sense of pity, before looking away altogether, opening his mouth as if wanting to say something but quickly closing it. As if thinking it would be better to be quiet, clearing his throat he gave a dry chuckle, resuming his charming expression as he looked back towards you, “Sorry about that, Jimin’s not really a fun topic. In my opinion atleast.”

“Well it definitely wouldn’t kill him to not always be so honest that’s for sure,” You hadn’t originally meant to voice it out loud, but you got the vague sense Jungkook and him were close friends. Or atleast that’s what it seemed like. Maybe he could shed some light on why Jimin had such duality in personality.

Chuckling Jungkook lead you out of the elevator towards the ritzy floor that appeared to be entirely there just for fine dining, “Money makes people entitled. He’s not an exception.”

Curiously you glanced at him, the air about Jungkook was difficult to read. Something you weren’t use too, most people were like an open book involuntarily. The way they held themselves, what they wore, the brands they sported. It made it almost too easy to get an idea of people’s outlook on life. Like Jimin for instance, he was like a prowling linx. He paraded around like he genuinely cared and was concerned for whoever he talked too, but those half smirks and empty eyes never slipped past you even if they only showed for a split second. His intentions were just as pathetic as his attempt to pretend he really cared.

But Jungkook? Watching him smile coolly as he addressed the waiter who had nodded, weaving you towards your table in the lowlit dining area. Every expression on his face, every move he made, it was all intentional. He said he was just blunt, but was he really? Everyone in life had an ulterior motive, that’s just how it worked. Whatever his was, he had mastered never letting it seep through his intricately placed mask.

Jungkook pulled your chair out, gesturing you lightly to sit down. Often times you’d roll your eyes at any guy who’d attempt this. You lived such an informal life it hardly seemed fitting to be treated like this. But seeing this gesture on Jungkook, it fit almost alarmingly well. Like it had just come second nature to him, regardless of social class, this was just how women should be treated. It came off surprisingly natural compared to most guys who’d fumble as if forgetting until the last second about doing gentleman gestures which often came off more cringeworthy than chivalrous.

Sitting down as he seated you, before taking his own seat across from you as you tilted your chin, raising an eyebrow as you finally spoke up, “And what about you Jungkook? If money makes people entitled, what does that make you? You can have anything you want,” pressing your lips together you gave a hum in thought, “You can have any girl you want, why bother with someone like me?”

You’d be lying if the question hadn’t nagged at the back of your mind. Not out of some sort of desperation or need for reassurance. Pragmatically speaking, you had been genuinely curious. Someone like Jungkook, he shouldn’t even be in the same room as you. Suddenly realizing how blunt you were, you puckered your lips hoping it hadn’t come across offensive as you glanced at him.

Jungkook only laughed, soft and oddly sweet as he relaxed in his chair, glancing at you with soft eyes. Not necessarily affectionate, but an odd admiration as he shrugged, “It doesn’t make me anything. In my family money was never discussed while I was growing up,” he pressed his lips together, glancing away from you for a second as his gaze faltered, “Anything we bought, anywhere we went. That was just life for me. For a long time growing up I assumed everyone lived like I did.”

You found yourself curiously tilting your head. Having not expected at him giving such a detailed response. More so at the reality of his life, “Both of your questions lead to the same answer. My father...” his eyes suddenly filled with disdain, his nose wrinkling in irritation at just the thought before closing his eyes, sighing altogether, “He’s extremely controlling. He’s always been that way. Growing up he controlled every aspect of my life. Not in the way people would assume he would.”

Pausing for a second he seemed to be gathering his thoughts in figuring out how to properly explain as the waiter appeared. Two glasses of wine in tray as he handed them out. Explaining if you had another request for a different flavor he’d be happy to serve, handing out two menus as well he disappeared.

“I’m aware, socially speaking there’s a lot of differences between us,” Jungkook continued slowly as he delicately gripped the stem of his glass as if it was a rose, glancing at the dark inky liquid as he continued, “In your world, parents are usually more forceful yeah?”

Not expecting him to glance up to meet your eyes in hope for a response, a cloud of doubt in his gaze as if he didn’t want to wrongfully assume about you. You gave a dry laugh that came out more like a scoff, “Well there’s varying degrees...” You suddenly gripped the cup of your glass tightly, your expression darkening as memories of your childhood surfaced, forcing yourself to relax as you continued, “But aren’t most parents like that? How could that be different for you?”

“Well when you’re parents are as rich as mine they have different tactics in getting what they want,” Jungkook shrugged, glancing at you again as he rested his elbow against the armrest, twirling the stem in his hand as he continued, “They controlled me, just a lot more subtly. When you have money, you can choose what school your child goes too, which families they associate with, who they’re friends are. He molded my entire childhood to fit his ideal. I didn’t even realize it until my senior year when I had met a freshman who I really got along with. My dad about blew a fuse when he found out.”

His voice betrayed a bitter tone his expression had managed to steer clear of, “That was when I realized it wasn’t about who I was talking too, it was about it being someone who was in a lower class then us. Someone who my dad looked at as just a worker bee, someone who didn’t matter. He’s a very big elitist, people who don’t level our wealth aren’t worth our time in his opinion.”

Finally managing a drink from your glass as you set it down, letting his words soak in as you finally rose your eyebrows, “And you don’t agree with that?”

Jungkook licked his lips, running a hand through his dark silk like locks as he thought for a minute, “Well I was conflicted at first. Because I didn’t understand, I grew up my entire life just assuming I was normal, sure I had noticed subtle differences with my friends. But with my dad puppeteering my entire life it was never enough for me to question it until my senior year. I disregarded his word and hung out with who I wanted too. I branched out and found people I actually got along with. That’s when I began to realize I wasn’t so normal. I’m not even close to normal. The more I hung out with my friends, let them take me to public standardized areas, their homes, everywhere the more I understood that money? Material goods, financial security, that meant a lot more to people then I ever thought it did. Some people are just greedy for it, some people genuinely struggle with it...” he licked his lips as he rambled away, his eyes in a far away place, “It was weird seeing that, it still is weird. It feels like a foreign concept to me. Maybe that does make me entitled inherently. I’ve never known a day in my life where I’ve had to struggle with security in that sense.”

Straightening his posturing he cleared his throat, as if realizing how much he rambled as he finally glanced at you, “You’re right, I can have anything I want, and any girl I want. But I want you because I’m curious,” Jungkook finally set his wine glass down as he shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly, “You’re forbidden, something I’ve never been allowed to indulge in. When you have parents like mine I was only allowed to associate with my friends in highschool for so long before they cut it off. You’re everything I’m curious about, your way of life, your mentality, your culture. I’m curious, I’ve always been. And there’s so much of your world to experience it honestly overwhelms me at times. I don’t really know where to begin on my own.” He ended his sentence somewhat sheepishly, which let you know he was being honest.

Jungkook’s eyes looked boyish in that moment and you could tell every word he spoke he meant. You looked thoughtful as you tilted your head. You could never imagine being as sheltered as he was, but it made you wonder. What was classified as ‘your’ world? On any other occasion you would’ve scoffed, the idea it’s self almost made you feel like a science project for him to tinker with and study for the sake of his own weird sense of curiosity about the average mass of commonwealth.

But his overwhelming amount of genuineness put in his words made it difficult to feel indignant. Because his eyes, his whole demeanor while explaining was just so innocent. It was an endearing, genuine curiosity that made it so difficult to scoff at him. He really genuinely wanted to understand your way of life, it was such a foreign concept to you though. Could you even help him? How could anyone not experience life the way you had?

Well technically lots of people hadn’t, most people didn’t live the way you did, or suffer the background you had. But still your way of life, surely it couldn’t have been all that different, right? Jungkook left you alone for minute as if knowing you’d need a moment to muse his words. The silence was comforting and filled with the soft jazz that had been playing live towards the front of the room.

The waiter had come by after another few passing seconds to take your order, it wasn’t until after he left that Jungkook spoke up, “What about you though? I didn’t ask you out just to talk about myself the entire time.” He laughed causally though you could detect he seemed a bit worried he had rambled too much.

Shaking your head you grabbed the stem of your glass, twirling it as you hummed, “I don’t mind. It’s actually pretty fascinating to hear...” hearing your words you watched his eyes light up in relief, “It’s interesting to know that people can be raised so different...I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around it...” licking your lips you glanced at him briefly before looking away hesitantly, “My life feels pretty boring compared to yours...if not rather disheartening.”

It was true, you didn’t have a manipulated and repressed childhood, nor were you drown in riches and ignorance until you one day grew up and had an epiphany there was more to life than your parents had lead on. Jungkook frowned as he spoke up, “You should never compare, just because your life wasn’t as eventful as mine doesn’t make it any lesser in value.”

Your heart for a moment felt touched by his words. But it made you curious, how could he be so open minded and soft if he had been conditioned by his father his entire life? “W-well...” you fumbled slightly as you set your wine glass down, fumbling with your fingers as you awkwardly continued, “My life isn’t glamorous and honestly, if you’re looking for a more accurate depiction of working class I’m not a very good example...”

But your words only made Jungkook look more curious as he patiently waited for you to continue. Sighing you looked around from him as you crossed your legs, resting your chin against your hand as you glanced into the crowd of people, all wearing finewear with elegant soft spoken voices. Leaving an echo of a soft murmur to fill the air that mingled with music, “Growing up was...not fun.”

You frowned prominently as you furrowed your brows, digging into your memories as you continued, “I’ve never lived a fancy or...” you frowned as if looking for the right word, “Stable life...My parents worked very hard to ensure we had a place to live even if it wasn’t much. When I was a kid I could’ve cared less. But I hadn’t realized how much of strain it had put on their relationship. Eventually my dad would get so mad he’d run off to one of the local bars and wouldn’t come back until late in the morning.”

Sighing you didn’t have the nerve to look at him as you expression finally softened, “Of course that made the strain even worse. Looking back it was pretty counter productive, they’d argue, he’d drink, they’d argue about his drinking, making him go drink more. Eventually he became unemployed and it was just my mom barely scrapping us by while he drowned his at the bottom of a bottle.” Glancing down at your lap your softened expression still glowered slightly, a bitter note in your eyes that Jungkook took attentive care to notice though you had refused to look at him, “I was forced to grown up fast, so I didn’t have much of a childhood, by the time I was fifteen I ended up dropping out of highschool to work as many hours as my job would let me to help pay for rent while saving up to move out with my mom. By the time I was nineteen one of my friends had been looking for hospital work to get experience in the field. Sense they had two openings and he wanted the company I didn’t see the harm. Working two jobs, one during the day and one at night...”

Your eyes seemed distance as you mused, looking a bit lighter then before as you glanced up at Jungkook while shrugging, “Well it’s taxing, I’m not gonna sit and lie to you about it. I rarely have time to do anything besides sleep the few hours I can manage. But I was also able to get us moved out that same year. And after years like this I’ve gotten use to it, the lack of sleep, the minimal way of life...Jimin constantly says it doesn’t take a lot to make me impressed but...”

Sighing through your nose your expression hardened, curling an eyebrow looking vaguely annoyed, “No one here seems to get it y’know? I come from nothing, I am nothing, compared to anyone in this place. I’ve work my ass off my entire life just to survive. I don’t know what the word luxury even means, and don’t get the wrong impression,” Your voice suddenly fumbled, faltering in your ranting, looking at Jungkook for a second before looking away almost worried, “I don’t want you to think I’m bitter, or jealous of anyone here. It’s just, everyone takes what they have for granted because they think it isn’t enough. It’s hard to swallow that when you live the life I do, when I know at the end of the week, I’ll just go back to my life, back to work and I’ll never see any of this again. But everyone here? They act like this is some sort of average business week. And I guess, it is for them.”

Licking your lips you sighed, closing your eyes briefly for a moment as you shifted in your seat, “Being here, feels weird. Everyone looks at me like circus show. Like it’s cute how I get so flustered by how much luxury there is here. But in reality, you’re right. The majority of the world will and never will be use to this.”

Jungkook had stayed relatively quiet as you found yourself unable to speak anymore. Suddenly feeling rather self conscious, this must’ve been how he felt after exposing so much of the personal turmoil he had suffered through with you. But in another way, it felt rather liberating, just simply telling someone about your hardship, it was easier confiding in a stranger than a friend.

Because a stranger won’t be disappointed in you, or tell you what you should have done. They will earnestly listen to your story without judgement that your friends and family would carry. Maybe that’s why he had told you so much as well.

“But it isn’t really temporary, you do know that, right Y/n?” Your head shot up at Jungkook’s soft voice, an odd amount of empathy on his face for someone so different than you. A delicious fragrance filled the air as the waiter had finally stopped by your table, setting your food out for you.

“I don’t know how you feel about it,” Jungkook looked as though he was treading on sensitive ground as he continued, “But Park is going to marry your mom. Even if you don’t actively see them it’s still going to impact your life, a lot of the strain you feel right now won’t be so heavy.”

Sighing you looked away from him, “I’m a grown women...I don’t need help. Or want it...okay maybe I do but I’m also not a slacker. Of course I’d appreciate their help but they don’t need to worry about me,” you shrugged loosely, beginning your meal as you continued, “Maybe I’m just being stubborn, my mom always said I take on too much. But I’ve lived like this my entire life, how can I just drop the only way I know how to live? I know I’ve complained a lot about my life but, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

Your words were earnest as you glanced up at Jungkook, your eyes and expression both had softened significantly as you finally let out a small laugh, a genuine smile on your lips, “Sure my life sucks and I have a dysfunctional family, but isn’t that what life’s about? No matter who you are, or where you come from, we all seem to have those problems. I might not be drowning in gucci. But I do have an apartment. And I have a bomb ass cat...” Y

our nose wrinkled as you smiled, remembering the little shit stain that curled against your neck anytime you were home to sleep, “And I have two friends who are just as dysfunctional as me. Sometimes, it’s not all about the big things in life. Sometimes,” you glanced down at the extravagant meal in front of you, smelling worthy enough to make your mouth water as you mused, “It’s the little things in life, that make life worth living, y’know?”

You had been initially a little on edge for the first date you’d be attempting in months, especially when it was with someone so different from you by nature. But you had found yourself, for the first time, in a long time, genuinely relaxed and enjoying yourself. The pitfall most guys fell into with you, was in search for a romantic partner. It wasn’t their fault, there was nothing wrong for wanting that. You just weren’t the right person they needed, you didn’t want to be settled down with commitment and shifted priority that came with a relationship. Or maybe you just hadn’t met someone you liked enough to change your mind.

Regardless more times than less they’d want to take it slow, get to know you, your life, your story and family. And finally after so much pining and unnecessary waiting they’d sleep with you. They actually didn’t, because you’d never make it past the third date before inevitably getting impatient and leaving. You liked it fast, without reason or questions. It just made life easier. And if it worked out, great and if it didn’t? No harm done.

Most guys you attracted never seemed to share the same mindset. Even going as far as horrified at the prospect of going home together on the first date. But one of your biggest ideals in a relationship was simple, he had to be good in bed. You weren’t opposed to teaching someone, but often times men had a very large and a very sensitive ego. Again you had never gotten that far to begin with. Which was why you had never had any luck from a relationship. If he was bad in bed and too prideful to learn then there was zero point in wasting your time with someone, but since most of the guys you had went out with refused to sleep with you...well you can see the problem, right?

There was something about Jungkook though, you rather liked. He was easy going but eager, just like yourself in that aspect. As if ready to jump you at any moment if you gave the word. He didn’t want to wait around and ‘get’ to know you. He was blunt in his intentions of wanting to sleep with you, admitting later to simply wanting to get to know you’re side of the coin in life. And you had no problems with that, because inherently it was all just fun and games.

An easy win win, you’d finally break your dry spell with someone you got along with, he’d be able to sate some of his curiosity about the outside world.

You could respect that. You and Jungkook had been closing that evening, laughing together at one of the stories you had been enthralled at telling, having so few friends you often only experienced anything thrilling with them, leaving you with little to no audience to ever tell it to outside your mom. And that was when it was legal atleast. Jungkook seemed rather shocked and oddly absorbed in your rather crazy stories, obviously enjoying them as he had never experienced anything close to the oddities you and you had friends had experienced.

Getting out of your seats you both had smiled with a lingering silence but he spoke up, “So about making it up to you after this morning....”

“Gonna bail on me again?” You rose your eyebrows with a teasing smile, half expecting him too. It was almost eleven and you’d imagine he was going to have a busy day tomorrow, wouldn’t anyone who lived a life like this? Something you weren’t jealous of, you were busy yes, but nowhere near on the extravaganza that was the Fifteenth Dark Ace hotel. And for that, you wouldn’t blame him, if you were that busy you’d probably bail on a date too.

“After how much of a good girl you’ve been?” Jungkook let that infamous smirk pull on his lips as he stepped closer to you closing the gap of space, forcing you to crane your neck to glanced up at him, “I’m not that mean babygirl. Wanna head up to my room?”

You licked your lips, knowing his tone of voice had come off in a way not to pressure you. After all you could have changed your mind in the few hours you had spent together, but it hadn’t. In fact it only reinforced how much you wanted this guy to pound into you, “Lead the way.” You gestured, curving an eyebrow with one of the worlds most cutest smile, not at all fitting given the scenario you were headed into.

Obviously glad to hear you wanted this just as much as him, he wasted no time to wrap an arm around your waist, leading you down the lowlit path as you glanced one last time at the stunning dining area. The crystal chandeliers that held thousands of candles in them creating such a glowing ambiance. The skilled saxophonist who played softly intertwined with the piano, and the utter divine smell of fresh baked bread that had passed by from a waiter. And- Wait was that who you thought it was? Blinking you had to do a double take back at the sea of people before your gaze had landed on a black head of hair, Jimin?

Jungkook seemed to notice your surprise as he raised a brow, looking out to where your gaze had landed before spotting Jimin as well, letting out a tiny amused chuckle before speaking, “Oh he never sleeps alone at night, don’t look so surprised Y/n. It’s just how he is.”

Watching Jimin as he smirk deviously as he gripped the girls chin, her bare back facing you with the revealing gown on but you could tell by her body language she was flustered. Still though a small indignant pang sent through your stomach, of course he only wanted to sleep with you.

Sighing you rolled your eyes as you shrugged, deciding not to care further, you weren’t that interested anyways and it’s clear Jimin was only interested in your body. Why focus on that though when someone like Jungkook was leading you to his room, “Why is he like that anyways? I mean he’s just so…”

“Dualistic? Dunno to be honest,” Jungkook shrugged, thinking for a moment before shrugging again, “I have a few theories but none seem to really peg his problem whatever it is. Money makes up his ego sure but he just has a mentality that whatever he wants he gets. Unlike me his family is considerably lower class then us. The only reason we’re childhood friends is because our dads were as well.” Jungkook rambled on as you curiously glanced at him, so the Parks really weren’t that loaded? A flash of the private jet you had not been in two days ago flashed in your mind as you felt like you had been sucker punched. If that wasn’t fucking loaded then what did that make Jungkook!?

Getting in the elevator he finally concluded as he shrugged, “Honestly, I know you said you weren’t interested in him but I’m being serious Y/n. He’s like a predator, when he wants someone, he won’t give up. Be careful.” And there it was again, that crypticness from earlier.

Confused you tilted your head before shaking it. He kept warning you but nothing had really warranted anything for it, sure Jimin was an attractive man but that’s all he really had going for him in your opinion, it wasn’t like you naturally got along with him, “Okay, if he really is into me as much as you say…Why are you doing this?” You gestured your hand between you both, “With me?”

Jungkook took a moment to contemplate your words looking rather sheepish, as if being caught in the act before his brows furrowed in thought. Finally he shrugged loosely, that smirk curling back on his lips as he replied, “Because I think it’s fun taking what Jimin can’t get. He’s such a sore loser it’s honestly hilarious…which is why you should probably keep this between us.” He pressed his lips together, whatever pride he had on his face loosened as he glanced at you almost worried briefly.

“Well the good news is I wasn’t intending on telling him about who I’ve slept with,” You laughed lightly, not wanting whatever seemed to be disturbing Jungkook to get him too worried, “Besides you have nothing to worry about, I’ve survived campus fuckboys of all different sorts. This isn’t any different I can promise you.”

“What about me?” Your mouth gaped at the unexpected coil of smug in his tone as he pulled you closer to him, dragging his lips against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “I’m not a fuckboy to you, am I?”

Your breath had hitched slightly at the warmth of his lips and the grip of his hands against your waist, you could’ve sworn you had heard his heartbeat with his hot breath so close to you, “No,” Suddenly feeling the overwhelming desire to be a brat even though you knew the consequences, “I couldn’t even think you’re a fuckboy. You’re like a cute little bunny!” You suddenly spun around, booping that cute little curved tip of his nose as you grinned playfully.

Suddenly giggling loudly at his drop in expression looking dumbfounded at what you had just done, “See! Maximum cuteness! You’re too adorable to be a fuckboy I don’t make the rules Kooky.” You pinched his cheeks as your grin widened, finally provoking him to grab your wrists as his brows furrowed.

Licking his lips and despite trying to look sexy it had the opposite effect, maybe it was the wine but he just looked so damn adorable trying to be alpha like, “You must really liked that punishment huh?” He curved an eyebrow, his eyes had darkened considerably and his tone of voice had deepened, finally achieving the aura he had been looking for, “We haven’t even got to my room yet and you already wanna test me baby?”

Pressing your tongue against your cheek you backed off slightly, while punishment was enjoyable you had been promised reward tonight and you weren’t gonna throw that away, “No,” you shook your head with false innocence as you contained yourself, “I’m daddy’s good girl- No I’m daddy’s best girl.” You corrected yourself patronizingly and you were surprised he hadn’t pushed you against the wall to spank you in that moment as he crossed his arms looking less than impressed, making you snicker nervously. Fumbling with your fingers as you cleared your throat, “I’ll behave.”

Sighing Jungkook shook his head, letting his disapproving gaze softened slightly, “You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood tonight, you really enjoy teasing me don’t you?”

He stepped closer again, as if daring you to continue as you impishly smiled, glancing away as you fiddled with your hair, knowing if you ignored the question you’d be punished, and if you answered the wrong way you’d still be punished, “Is it really a good time in bed if there isn’t a little bit of banter? There’s nothing more fun than making a dom feel the need to prove himself even when he knows he doesn’t have too.”

“Is that what this is about?” Jungkook almost looked amused as he grabbed your chin delicately, making you look at him as he leaned down wolfishly, “You want me to prove my dominance babygirl? Careful what you wish for.”

The door had dinged open, having finished its journey as Jungkook turned to face the entrance, briefly smirking while he wasn’t looking, gotcha. No punishment tonight, you were what the kids called a crafty sub, you knew just the right thing to say to get what you wanted. On the rare occasion you could watch your mouth.

Leading you back to his room the door clicked shut with a finality, knowing you could go back on this at anytime but seeing the city lights reflect off his body outlining made you swallow. Your mind flickered to his bare torso when you had first met as he took off his jacket. Turning around as he raised his eyebrows, “You just gonna stand there?”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me to strip?” You took a slow step further into the room, your eyes adjusting to the dark room as you questioned his motives. Unsure if he had this whole night planned out the moment he saw you or was simply going off of instinct.

Chuckling Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed kicking off his shoes while giving them a small kick to the side, shrugging as he relaxed back against his hand, “You dictate the night sweetheart, not me. You want to be a brat and get under my skin right? Make me feel the need to prove myself? Sad to say but I’m a patient man baby, it’s gonna take more then teasing to get me to do that.”

“So let me get this straight,” You had stepped out of your heels, glad to have them off as your feet thanked you, turning to face him as if this was a salesman gimmick that you were positive seemed too good to be true, “You’re gonna let me boss you around?”

“Mhm.” He nodded looking genuine but you were suspect as you squinted your eyes making him laugh, was this some trap? “I’m not gonna bite- too hard, do we need protection?” He licked his lips feverishly as he waited for your next move, relaxed and clearly not looking the least intimidated as he casually asked the question, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had kept condoms on him twenty four seven.

Pressing your lips together as the pout began to quiver on your lips, “No I’m on pill…” you lingered warily in your spot, looking as if you were in the room with a rabid animal, cautious of his every flickered gaze. He was relaxed, not looking the least concerned about anything, of course he wasn’t, not when he was the one who could unfairly flip the roles here, “Boss me around sweetheart, that’s what you wanna do right?” The wicked smirk curled on his lips as he raised his brows expectantly

“Well-“ You fumbled tugging your hair as you cautiously padded closer to him, still unsure if this was a trick or not, “Yes…but I don’t wanna get punished…” you finally admitted your reason of reluctance as you trudged towards him, lips still pouting with a quiver as you glanced away from him.

Jungkook nodded exasperatedly with a patronizing tone, “Mhm and I promise you won’t, as long as you behave when I tell you too. And right now I’m giving you permission to boss me around. Make me do what you want baby, anything’s for grabs.” he leaned back against his hands as he encouraged you to come closer.

“Anything?” You tilted your head, quirking a brow in disbelief as you finally took the final step towards him, looking down at him, he looked so smug in that moment as he nodded again, “Anything.”

Licking your lips it was your turn to cheekily grin as you raised your eyebrows, having his permission before pressing your mouth closed, unable to keep that adorable little smirk off your lips as you lifted your leg up, placing your foot beside his seated position. The high slit of your dress parting all the way up to the height of your thigh, “Kiss.”

It was a one worded command but he had got the message. Not breaking eye contact with you as if to remind you he was ultimately in charge as he gripped the soft skin against the sheer black material of your stocking, kissing your inner thigh as his eyes lidded slightly but refused to break from your contact.

Letting his lips part as he dragged his tongue against the soft surface, humming approvingly as you let your hand find his hair. Having been curious since you met him to touch it, his hair looked so silky and soft and your assumption was right as you massaged your fingers against his scalp making him shift positions of your thigh as he let his lips press up further while his tongue dragged in its path.

Finally allowing your eyes to close in contentment as his soft lips began to pepper your thigh in kisses, “Feel good baby?” His hand ran across your thigh gently squeezing as you nodded with a hum. Letting him open your leg more to get a better angle on your thigh as you felt the tulle part further. His lips pressed deeper against your skin before opening again, biting down with a nip, taking the skin in his mouth sucking delicately. Undoubtedly marking you as you continued to enjoy the pampering before pausing for a moment, pulling away slightly making him come up for air on his handy work.

Two hickies had already started to form in a shade of purple that was difficult to see in the low lights. Jungkook said nothing as he watching you place your foot back on the ground, almost anticipating your every move as you reached for the zipper of your dress. Unzipping it all the way down before letting the material drop from your body, grabbing the pin in your hair as you pulled it out, feeling your hair stumble down as you smirked again.

Watching his eyes light up in amusement, almost like a kid unwrapping a present as he licked his lips humming out, “You look even better then I had hoped.”

Stepping between his parted legs you snorted definitely an unattractive laugh as you curved an eyebrow, “How come I didn’t get that reaction when you came to pick me up?” It was a playful question as you tsked, “Come on keep kissing gentleman, I love to be bathed in worship.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist he pulled you to him as he pressed his lips against your stomach, glancing up at you wolfishly as Jungkook rose a brow, “Do you really want a gentleman?”

“Not when you look at me like that.” You replied amused though answering honestly as he continued to pepper your body in kisses, focusing more on your lower body within his reach as he began to nip at your hips. Between your lacy black cheeky panties and the garter belt it had left a snippet of your skin for the taking as he continued to nip his way to the other side.

Letting his hands squeeze against the sides as he made his way back up to your pelvis where the belt sat, kissing over the material as he tugged you to straddle him.

Inherently wanting to be obedient you did as asked making yourself comfortable on his lap as his hands ran down to your ass, holding you firmly as he dipped down into your neck continuing his trail of kisses, parting his lips to mark again as he began to suck against the skin. His hands began to delicately trace back up your sides almost making you wiggle at how feathery his touch was.

A quick nip against the spot he had been working on emitted a breathy little gasp from you that unfortunately didn’t escape his auditory, “Keep making those sounds babygirl.” He practically petted you as he stroked his hands down your back, showering you with affection and his undivided attention as he began to work his way down to your breasts that sat prominently up in the matching lacy black bustier bra.

Jungkook pressed kisses on top of them before biting down against the soft tissue, obviously finding the next spot he wanted to mark as his mouth continued to work. His hands continually stroking against your sides as he let his tongue press and prod against the spot as he finally glanced up at you, “Feeling pampered enough to help me out sweetheart?”

Eyes still closed you nodded as you heard him quietly laugh before pausing and continuing, “Lap dance me in that pretty lingerie baby, give me a good show.”

Your forearms had found there way against his broad shoulders as he finished up marking his spot against your breast as you began to press down against him. Letting your hips drag and wiggle in search for his length that you had found quickly hardening.

Your arousal began to spike between your legs as you pressed your cunt back against him almost too eager as you began to rub and drag down against his lap, feeling his grip on your hips tighten slightly, letting you know you were doing a good job as he finished his last mark, a whine escaping your lips as you felt your clit catch against the material of his slacks.

Smirking he leaned back against his hands as he let you get to work, pressing down on him from different angles, your panties were completely soaked and the embarrassing wet patch was prominent as you eagerly worked his clothed bulge as he spoke up, “Careful babygirl, you’ll get my slacks wet at the rate you’re going.”

Your cheeks began to flare because he was right. Your panties were beyond ruined by your own wetness from how turned on you had become in such a short amount of time, “Never said that was a bad thing,” Jungkook snickered at your reaction, grabbing your chin to make you look at him, “Look at you, all red faced while bouncing on my lap. What do you want baby? Wanna be my princess right? Tell me what you want.”

Your face was getting redder as you attempted to look down towards his lap, feeling his finger keep you in place as you murmured shyly, “I want to ride your thigh daddy.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if expecting a more common request before suddenly looking smug while squeezing your sides as he nodded, “Of course you would, go on, ride daddy’s thighs princess.”

Eagerly you slipped from his lap and over to his left thigh sitting with legs on either side as you began to press down against the cotton material before eagerly rubbing yourself against him, feeling your clit flatten enough to send a jolt into your stomach as you suddenly whimpered. Holding onto his thigh as you continued to ride it, letting your clit catch against the material of your panties as you continued to drag your hips against his thigh pleasuring yourself as you whimpered again, feeling the pressure slowly building in your core.

Jungkook observed cockily, admittedly not once in his life had a girl wanted to thigh ride him until now but he was more than happy to experience. Feeling your arousal messily slip through your panties and soak through his pants, it was an oddly satisfying feeling as you pressed against him harshly, feeling your pussy part and wet further as you continued to ride him quicker, “Look at you princess, you’re making such a big mess on daddy’s thigh, come on baby keep riding.” Whimpering at his words you continued to use his thigh in desperation, “You look good desperate, it’s almost pathetic how much you want your little clit rubbed, do you need help?” Whining you nodded defeatedly as he chuckled. Bouncing his thigh in compliance as you suddenly bucked your hips your clit flattening continually at the movement stimulating as you let out little gasps, “Come on princess cum on daddy’s thigh like a good girl.”

Feeling the pressure build in your core you continually whimpered as you rubbed yourself against his bouncing thigh, feeling your legs begin to shake as he almost demanded, “Cum for daddy babygirl.”

Moaning loudly you felt the pressure snap as you obediently let the orgasm wash over you, moans almost embarrassingly slipping out from your lips as you continued to whimper and whine while wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook as he stroked you praisingly, “Mmm that’s a good girl, good girl baby.”

Your legs were shaky and you weren’t sure if you could stand as he grabbed you by the ass, picking you up so he could properly set you down on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he tsked, “Such a messy baby, you couldn’t help yourself could you? Do my thighs feel that good?”

Blushing you looked away red cheeked and pouting but nodding regardless. Letting his shirt fall off his well chiseled arms as you felt your face grow hotter at his well built body display, suddenly feeling self conscious as you looked away, did you even deserve to sleep with someone as good looking as Jungkook?

By the time he had let his slacks hit the floor he tsked again, kneeling down as he grabbed your wrists, “Don’t cover yourself, I want to see you in your pretty lingerie princess. Unless you want me to take it off for you…” he licked his lips, his fingers already finding their way to the back of your bra as you said nothing in return, feeling your face hot red as he unhooked it.

Taking it off you had instantly went to cover yourself once more, Jungkook’s hands caught your wrists in time as he huffed, “I said don’t cover yourself baby, look at how pretty you are.” He could barely murmur the words out as he let his mouth suck against your nipple, making you whimper at the suddenly sensation as his hand went to the other.

Massaging nice and slowly while giving gentle pinches to it, sighing through his nose as he paused for a moment before sitting up to take you in, running a hand through his hair as he sighed again, “Fuck you look hot. Want me to eat that pretty pussy baby? I’m hungry again but for a whole new meal.” He hadn’t even left you an option as if he had decided on his own. Feeling his fingers pull against the garter belt first pulling it down with your stockings as he pressed kisses against your leg all the way back up to your thigh.

You jolted at the feeling of his lips kissing your well soaked panties as he hummed, “We should get rid of these hm? You did a good job of ruining them baby.” He coyly smirked from between your thighs as his fingers curled around the band of your panties, pulling them down in one fluid motion before diving in between your legs.

Wasting no time as he let his tongue lick up from your slit making you gasp at the unexpected sensation. When was the last time you had even been ate out? Most guys found it too gross to wanna try it or simply didn’t like doing it. It was a foreign feeling having Jungkook jump between your legs on his own accord as he devoured you, sucking your clit like a tasty treat as you wiggled and whimpered beneath him, letting his tongue continuously drag against your clit until he found its sweet spot.

Your voice was already becoming ragged and your already over sensitive body was reacting sharply at the harsh sensation as you whined, collapsing back against the soft surface. Jungkook pulled your legs over his shoulders as he straightened up, hiking your lower body up with him as he glanced down at you like a predator while eating you alive.

Feeling his tongue prick and prod at the oversensitive bundle of nerves making the orgasm build faster and faster as you squeezed your thighs against him moaning, “Daddy please! I’m so close!” You finally strangled out.

His grip on you tightened at your whimpered words while feeling a long slim finger slip inside you as you attempted to twist and turn while he kept you in place. Pumping a second finger inside you as he quickened his pace, not letting his tongue stop for a second as he took your clit in his mouth sucking against it as he let it swirl in his mouth, using his tongue to stroke it.

Clenching around his fingers that roughly pumped in and out of you when he found your g-spot you had snapped, almost screaming at the pain of your orgasm but it obviously wasn’t enough for him, “Keep going baby.” He suddenly added a third finger pumping you roughly as he vigorously hit your g-spot each time, sending you into orbit as you continuously bucked in his hand whimpering not evening finishing your second orgasm before he sent you into your third while attaching his tongue back to your clit humming.

Tears had begun to slip from your eyes at so much overstimulation but he refused to stop continuing as he ruthlessly hit your g spot, letting you practically ride his face as he nipped your clit. Still riding your third orgasm as he finally achieved what he was looking for. Forcing your fourth one as you roughly clenched around his fingers, body shaking and crying with whimpers as the liquid squirted out, coating his fingers as he slipped out of you, setting you back down on the bed as you continued sobbing from so much overstimulation, fuck had you ever even squirted before? You didn’t even think you could.

Jungkook began to wash your thighs in kisses as he softly praised you, “Such a good girl, my best babygirl. Can you still take daddy’s cock? You don’t have to say yes baby.” He murmured against your thighs as he gently massaged them, practically bathing you in affection as you swallowed back those big crocodile tears, your eyes were mascara stained and red cheeked looking incredibly tired but you were a trooper as you struggled to sit up, “I-I can do it, I want you balls deep inside me daddy.” Your needy eyes looking directly at him as you murmured, not shy but horse from so much whining.

“Mmm you sound so cute when you talk filthy princess, keep going for daddy.” Jungkook asked as he let his cock spring free from his boxers. It looked incredibly irritated and red tipped, precum covering it as you licked your lips nervously, “…I-I don’t know…you’re really big daddy.” Glancing away as he gently pushed you back down against the bed.

Smirking though he pressed his lips against you forehead, “You let daddy worry about that, you just relax baby, okay?”

Biting your lip you obediently nodded, “Okay.”

You certainly weren’t lying, he was huge, in both length and girth, it didn’t help that you hadn’t been laid in forever and it’s not like you had gotten a lot of action before that. Feeling spoiled at all of this as you felt him open your thighs again, sore from already being opened so much they sent a dull ache to your hips.

You suddenly moaned as you whined feeling his massive length slip against your pussy, coating in your arousal as it brushed over your hypersensitive clit.

Stroking your pussy with his cock before grabbing the tip he began to press it in, making you grit your teeth as you hissed sucking a breath of air in.

“Mmm fuck baby you’re tight, you weren’t joking about not getting a lot before huh?” He chuckled though it sounded strain as he pushed himself further in, “Good, because this is my pretty little pussy to fuck isn’t it? You want me to prove my dominance right? Well guess what baby? I’d fucking demolish anyone who even tries getting close to this.”

You whimpered as he suddenly began thrusting. His length throbbing painfully inside you at such a small space, his hand slapped your thigh making you whimper out as he continued, “This is mine, all mine babygirl.” His hips continued to rock faster against you as you wrapped your legs around him letting him pound ruthlessly inside you as he let out a gravelly moan. His voice deep and almost guttural before quickly letting his hips begin to slam into you making you moan loudly as you began to wiggle and try to buck in sync with his hips. Being too fast though Jungkook laughed, “Look at you baby, even when you’re all fucked out you’re still greedy for another orgasm aren’t you?” He opened one of your legs up further to penetrate you deeper but you could already feel him hitting your cervix, fuck! He was so big, “Go on baby cum all over my cock, be a greedy little girl.”

Whimpering as he continually filled you, roughly hammering into you making the bed begin to knock against the wall as his fingers found their way against your sensitive clit almost making you scream as your voice whined out loudly, “D-daddy please- it hurts!”

Hearing your whimpering only made his cock twitch and pulse as he picked up his pace, thrusting rougher as he continued to rub your clit harshly, “Be a good girl and orgasm for me baby, do I need to repeat myself? I want your cum all over my cock baby come on start riding.” He suddenly picked you up sitting down while setting you on top of him, your orgasm already building enough to make you eagerly bounce his cock as he grabbed your ass.

Quickly helping you as you felt it eagerly twitch inside you again, “Come on baby come for me.” His hand smacked against your ass echoing against the room as you whimpered, burying your face in his neck only for him to grabbing a fistful of hair, yanking you to look back at him, “No baby you’re gonna cum all of this cock while looking right at me.”

Feeling his fingers roughly pressing against your clit against as he let go of your hair in trade to spank you harsher, your walls clenching harshly around his cock that was painfully throbbing and rubbing against your g-spot as he growled, “Cum baby.”

Whimpering you bounced him as fast your hips would let you taking down his full length despite it painfully throbbing inside you, quickly riding his thick base as you whimpered continually, feeling yourself clench against him as your orgasm arrived quickly.

Roughly rubbing your sweet spot as you cried out, tears close to falling down your face as he spanked you again, “Go on, cum you slut, don’t make me repeat myself.” His hand slapped your bare red ass one last time before the overstimulation overwhelmed you, crying as it washed over you, sending you to cloud nine as he suddenly flipped you both other. Now on top of you as he ruthlessly thrusted into you, slamming his cock into you as he continually moaned though it barely reached your ear.

Pushing himself until the base of his cock was all the way inside you before he released, feeling the hot ropes of his cum fill you until you dripped his seed, his hips didn’t stop though as he drilled into you, obviously forcing himself into overstimulation as he moaned loudly cumming again from the overstimulation, his seed spilling from you even further as he filled you a second time.

Finally relaxing as he let himself slip out from you. Sweat beading down his neck as he gasped for air, obviously out of breath as he rested his forearms on either side of you, kissing your neck as he murmured, “What a good girl, you did so well baby.”

Originally you had intended on making your way back to your own room once this was finished, but there was not a single bone left in you body that could properly function as exhaustion began to set in. Picking you up to properly set you in bed, pulling the nice fluffy blankets over you both as he got back on top of you, showering you in kisses and soft praise again, “Go on babygirl, sleep you earned it.” He urged you as he continued to smother your stomach in kisses while gently stroking your waist.

Just as you had done everything else this night, you listened without being told twice. Letting your eyes fall shut as sleep gladly took you.

Note: hey babes! I’ve been meaning to update this all day but honestly? I’ve been feeling a bit down lately, I keep getting dms saying I need to add a read more tab but like as a mobile writer I’m unable too. I’ve kinda been at a loss for what to do because I don’t want to clog tags and annoy people :( that being said I still wanted to update for you guys so until I’m able to get my hands on a pc I’m just gonna keep chapter pushing 5K out of the tags. Sorry for the long note! 🖤

Tag list: @sapphireprinces5 @jazzytfw @theslumberingcat (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#three’s a crowd

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