#i kept looking at her through the reflection on the glass cause i didn’t wanna weird her out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jooniyah · 3 years

Text

Lover Bouquet : One

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Idol!au

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut (R)

Warnings: Two instances of NON CON, polyamory, established relationship, yandere behavior, pregnancy discussion, emotional abuse, violence, kidnapping, scandal, blood, degradation kink, mobbing, manipulation, profanity, group sex, oral, smut, cum play, groping

Word count: 19.58k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is an idol au setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This fic is set in an au where the boys are part of a 7-member boy band called the Biker Boys Squad (BBS) and everything that follows is completely fictional with no intended resemblance to actual places, bands or agencies.

Cover credit: @maleficosmos-2 ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ, ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸᵎ

─── ·❆· ───

The smooth roll of wheels outside had visibly no impact on the inside of the limousine. The shiny interior, complete with Italian leather and crystal wine glasses screamed luxury. The windows were completely tinted, reflecting the bright lights of every radiant storefront the car zoomed past.

The car smelt like heaven, a bouquet of smells fanning your nostrils and intoxicating you. Cologne, aftershave, hairspray, all the most delicious masculine smells danced around your senses, tugging at your inner coil that was slowly rearing its head up.

Namjoon was going through a little chit in his hand, mostly out of habit than necessity. He didn’t really depend on those notes, but it gave him a sense of security to know he had all the points in hand before stepping up to the mic.

“Hyung, add a line in English at the end for our International fans,” Taehyung said, peering over at the chit in Namjoon’s hand. The little note had words written in neat Korean letters, which the younger man glanced at.

“Yeah, will do, Tae,” the elder man responded, his hand reaching down to pat the head nestled in his crotch.

“Keep going, baby girl,” he said, gently ruffling your hair as he resumed scanning the chit. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting on either side of him, Jimin casually sipping the Cheval Blanc from his crystal glass, his pillowy pink lips made even glossier by the fine red wine.

You bobbed your head up and down Namjoon’s length, savoring his unique scent with your cheeks hollowed out around him, sucking deep and hard.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he hissed, too far gone to focus on his acceptance speech anymore.

Jimin smiled warmly, his hand snaking down to Namjoon’s lap. His fingers gripped your hair, and he tugged it gently, seeking control over your head. You obliged happily, letting him maneuver your head as he liked.

He slowly pushed you further and further down Namjoon’s shaft, his eyes trained on Namjoon’s face, watching his face twist in hunger. Jimin’s palm was flat against your skull, pushing you to gobble Namjoon’s cock without sparing an inch.

Yoongi was playing a game on his phone, and he looked up just in time to see you struggling against Jimin’s hand.

“Let her breathe, Jiminah,” he lazily scolded, his gummy smile out in full brilliance.

“N- no,” Namjoon panted, looking at Yoongi with pleading eyes. “So close- I’m so close.”

And with that, he groaned out loud, his hips bucking up subconsciously. He ground his body down to the leather seat, his legs trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm.

The hand pressing against your head stayed put, not budging until Namjoon’s legs stopped shivering. Namjoon leaned back and removed his glasses, wiping his hot forehead with a groan. The hand left your hair, moving down to caress your neck.

“Feeling good, hyung?” Jimin’s voice came to your ears like a song.

“You wouldn’t believe how good, Jiminie,” the elder man replied, his breaths coming out in strained intervals.

“Tch, baby…” Jimin said, handing you a Kleenex to wipe your mouth. “You left a drop on Hyung’s trousers.”

Namjoon snapped his head down, his eyes rolling when he saw the single blob of cum on his crotch.

“Damn, those paparazzi will roast us alive,” he murmured, reaching down to wipe it clean.

“No, Joonie,” you whined, hastening to dip your head back down on his crotch. Namjoon’s hand remained suspended in the air with his fingers grasping a tissue, his thigh muscles tensing up when you timidly licked a stripe on his expensive trousers, gathering the blob and sucking it up.

“Oh Y/N, you are so fucking naughty,” Jimin giggled, pulling you up so you could rest your knees.

“Come here, baby,” Yoongi said, his voice thick and raspy. He had waited patiently until Namjoon finished, and now he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Hoseok was sitting next to Yoongi, and the seats were somewhat cramped because four of them were sitting across from Namjoon. The limousine had been altered to their taste, but the seats were a bit smaller than needed.

“Here,” Jin extended his hand, pulling you so you could sit on his lap.

You took advantage of the brief moment to lock your lips against Jin’s neck.

“Hey, no hickeys,” he said, gently swatting at your shoulder. “It’s awards night. No hickeys.”

You puckered your lips up in disappointment. You were only pretending to bite him, just to see his eyes flash. Stern Jin was so fucking sexy.

Yoongi was in the far corner of the seat, and Jin being the smart guy he was, always found a solution.

“Lie down on our thighs,” he said, helping you sprawl yourself across the three sets of thighs, the tips of your toes resting on the owner of the fourth set.

Yoongi’s fingers worked quickly on his zipper, and Jimin’s clear voice teased, “Hyung, you’ll be wrinkling your Saint Laurent suit if you wiggle around too much.”

“Y/N is worth ruining a thousand Saint Laurent suits, Jiminah,” Yoongi quipped as he fished his dick out.

Jin’s long sensitive fingers drew soft circles on your calves, admiring your splendid legs. He brushed his fingers against the curve of your ass, finally settling down to squeeze and knead the firm flesh in his big palms.

The man next to Jin sighed heavily, looking out of the window and squinting through the tinted glass. He had a hard time trying to control himself, but the little toes that kept grazing his thighs distracted him. He bent his head, fighting himself to avoid looking at the sight around him. Of all the men in the limo, Jungkook was the only one who wasn’t staring at your body with simmering lust.

Yoongi was groaning, his hand fisting in your hair as he guided you to take him even deeper. He rested his head against Hoseok’s shoulder, closing his eyes and losing himself in bliss.

Hoseok gazed at Yoongi’s scrunched-up face with warm affection. He always felt supremely happy when Yoongi was having a good time. Your torso was laid on his lap, and he patted your back, encouraging you with soft whispers of praise.

“Yes, baby, that’s it keep going. You’re doing so good.”

Yoongi’s vein bulged alongside his cock, throbbing hard. He was straining so much, curling his toes inside his shoes.

“Gosh, I wanna get inside you,” he moaned, his voice coming out needy and whiny. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, whistling at his wristwatch.

“We’re gonna be on the red carpet in ten minutes, hyung,” he said, clucking his tongue. Yoongi opened his eyes, sending Jin his best pleading look right from his position on Hoseok’s shoulder.

Jin pursed up his pretty lips, looking down at your butt. It was not an easy feat to have full-on sex in the limo. As usual, he was the one who had to improvise a plan.

“Ten minutes is enough for a quickie,” Yoongi whined, his meat still lodged in your hot mouth.

“Okay okay, quit whining. Y/N baby, go sit on Namjoon’s lap,” Jin said, patting your ass. Namjoon looked up, removing his glasses and tucking them inside his breast pocket. He wished he had thought about asking Jin earlier.

You grinned and crawled over to Namjoon, cozying up with your back against his chest, his strong muscular arms spreading your legs wide open.

“All yours, hyung,” Namjoon said, nodding at Yoongi.

It was such a pretty sight to see your red lace undies completely soaked. Hoseok couldn’t hold on anymore, and his hand slipped down to palm himself through his pants.

Yoongi licked his lips, unbuckling his belt for better access. Your legs were already open for him, and Jimin had started caressing your clit with gentle touches. He crouched into a half-kneeling position, grazing his tip against your core.

“Please, just fuck me already,” you cooed, unable to bear Jimin’s teasing anymore. You had to have a cock inside you, it was urgent. Jimin was such a tease, and he enjoyed working you up into a frenzy.

Yoongi smirked, winking at Jimin and slamming his hips into yours, burying himself into you completely.

The car started slowing down, and Jin’s panicked voice rang behind Yoongi’s heaving form.

“We’re here, there’s so many cameras! Stop it, you two!”

Sure enough, there were hundreds of cameras outside, flashes going off every few seconds, waiting for the biggest boyband in the world to step out onto the red carpet.

Yoongi pounded into you harder, sweat running down his temples. He was growling with each thrust, the sound rumbling from deep inside his chest and sending a delicious thrill up your spine.

The car rolled to a stop, directly in front of the sea of people. Hushed murmurs were going around as everyone strained to peer through the tinted windows.

“What’s up? Why aren’t they stepping out?”

“Is something the matter?”

“Are you sure they are inside?”

A few reckless journalists tried to inch closer and glance through the windows. But the blinding camera lights reflected off the glass, completely blocking out the interior of the limousine.

Inside, Jimin hastened to pat down Yoongi’s streaming face, his nerves strung out completely. Yoongi buckled over and collapsed on Namjoon’s shoulder, blissed out at his climax. Jin grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back into his seat.

There was no time to be lost, and you got to work immediately, sucking Yoongi clean and zipping him up. You were just done tucking his shirt back neatly when one of the agency’s managers politely knocked on the door.

Looking up, you grinned at Yoongi, patting his knee.

“All done. Off you go, guys.”

You stayed back, keeping yourself hidden while the boys got out of the car one by one, smiling and waving at the crowd. The camera flashes multiplied manifold, clicking incessantly as the lenses gobbled up your boyfriends.

─── ·❆· ───

“I miss you,” you whined, pouting at your phone screen. Hoseok’s gorgeous face pouted too, as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I miss you too, Y/N. Everyone does.”

A chorus of groans behind Hoseok declared their assent. Taehyung’s head popped into the screen, and he settled his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder.

“It’s so frustrating without you, Y/N.”

You sighed and shook your head sadly.

“I know, it’s the same here.”

“Hold up, Yoongs wants to talk,” Hoseok said, moving his phone and pushing it into Yoongi’s hand.

“Babe...” he drawled, only half-awake from his power nap. “Get on a flight and come over.”

You twisted the cord on the hoodie you were wearing.

“How? You guys are all so busy. You’re touring so many places. Besides, your schedule is jam-packed.”

Namjoon’s voice piped up from the background.

“I got an idea.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Are you sure this will work?” you asked, shimmying into the black uniform Namjoon had brought you.

“Of course. You can travel with us throughout the tour and no one will know.”

Taehyung whistled on seeing your outfit.

“You know hyung, I’m beginning to see why they call you the brain of our band.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples popping out.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, holding you by the shoulders and turning you over to let the others see. “This is brilliant.”

The white letters were stamped boldly on the back of your outfit.

‘BBS CREW’

Jin came closer, pinning an identity badge on the belt loop of your jeans.

“There. You’re officially a crew member now.”

There was a knock on the door, and you ran to hide behind the clothes rack.

“We’re all set,” a crew member said, gesturing that it was time to go on stage. “In five.”

She left the door half open, and you peeped out from behind the rack.

“Time to go?” you asked.

“Yep,” Jin said, gripping your hand. “Come with us.”

There were so many people wearing the same outfit as yours, milling around the backstage rooms. It was very easy to blend in.

You walked with the guys to the very entrance they would go through, heart fluttering to hear the thunderous welcome they received from the audience as they stepped on stage.

It was a terrific experience to stay so close to the stage and see them perform. It was even more astounding to watch the audience get enthralled in the magic your boyfriends created. You stood at the wings, your heart swelling with pride.

After a while, it was finally time for a break, and the guys made their way off stage. They were soaked in sweat, and were panting hard.

“Sprained my ankle,” Hoseok whispered, limping gingerly while Jimin supported him.

“Fan, please,” Yoongi groaned, and a crew member hurried to get him a mini fan.

People were running everywhere, stylists were dabbing touch ups to the makeup and assistants were helping the guys change into the outfits for the next routine.

You hurried to Hoseok’s side, kneeling beside him and taking his hand. A medic was tending to his sprain, and you squeezed his hand tenderly.

“You okay?” you whispered, and he managed a weak nod.

“Better rest this foot,” the medic murmured, to which Hoseok shook his head.

“No. Rest after the concert. Gotta dance.” He was clenching his teeth tightly.

A heavy hand gripped your shoulder, and you looked up. Namjoon was standing with a mini fan, sweat streaming down his face.

“He won’t listen to the medic,” you said in a low voice.

“I know,” he sighed, gently pulling you up to your feet. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like this all the time.”

You nodded, looking around. Everyone was holding mini fans and wiping their sweat off with towels. Yoongi was sprawled out on the floor, and a crew member was fanning him with a big cloth.

“This is hard,” you said, turning back to face Namjoon.

“Yes. But they’re all strong. They’ll handle it.”

You nodded again. This was something they were used to. It would take you some time to get used to it, though.

“Here,” Namjoon said, clasping your hand and walking towards the wings again. The audience were still energetic, doing the fan chant over and over until the guys would get on stage again. Their light sticks were glowing bright, lighting up the whole arena and making it feel as if the stars had rained down to watch the concert.

“See that?” Namjoon whispered, his voice taking on a tone of astonishment. “That’s surreal. So much love, so much energy. They’ve all camped out in the cold for two days. Forget us, imagine how much they’d have gone through to get here.”

You hummed in agreement, still lost in the beauty of the light sticks.

“That’s who we perform for,” Namjoon said, his voice warm and sincere.

You smiled and looked back at his shining face. His eyes were reflecting the radiance of thousands of light sticks.

“Stand by in three...” someone’s voice shouted, and all the guys shot up to their feet with exhausted groans.

They assembled in line again, ready to get on stage for the next performance. One by one, they hurried through the entrance, until everyone except Namjoon had gone back to the waiting area.

“Namjoon-ssi!” someone screamed in alarm, and you shook his arm to get him going.

“Go on, Joon,” you hissed, trying to push him into action.

He looked at you in a daze, and dipped his head urgently.

“Namjoon-ssi!” Another voice called out in emergency, when he cupped your chin and captured your lips in a frantic kiss.

You saw people running towards Namjoon out of the corner of your eyes. There were confused shouts, as the red digital timer counted down the seconds to cue the music.

In a quick flash, he broke the kiss and squeezed your hand, running over to join his mates on stage.

─── ·❆· ───

“Jinnie?”

The mischievous eyes twinkled at you when he replied with a coy “Hm?”

You were lying on his chest, content with listening to his heartbeat thudding away. When you raised your head to look at him, you placed your chin on his ribs, making him squirm and giggle.

“Y/N! It tickles!”

He was still laughing, trying to lift your pointy chin when your next words caught him off-guard.

“Jungkook was so sulky today.”

His laughter died down, the glee on his face replaced with an inscrutable emotion.

“Do you know why?” you pressed, not ready to leave it undiscussed. “He looked like-” you batted your lashes, “-like he was pissed off at us.” You drew a long breath. “Mostly at me.”

Jin was quick to cup your cheek, tutting at the last comment.

“Of course not, Y/N. He was probably nervous about the concert.” He could clearly see that you weren’t convinced. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

You nodded, lost in thought. Did Jungkook not want to be part of the relationship? He hadn’t kissed you or said a kind word to you in days. He had flinched hard when you had touched him earlier in the day. You were about to open your mouth and voice out your thoughts when the bed dipped beside you, and Taehyung’s large sinewy hands landed on your waist.

“Jin hyung, I need to cuddle Y/N to sleep,” he said, his sleepy voice deeper than it normally was.

You swallowed your words, forgetting your thoughts at the deep voice booming into your back. Jin hummed his acknowledgment to Taehyung, gazing at the ceiling in peace, content with having you draped on his chest.

The boys rarely closed their doors, because it was so normal for one or the other to pop into your room at night. You were in love with all of them, yes, but you always slept with Jin. He had been your first boyfriend, and it was a given that you would go to bed with him every night.

The rest of them dropped by sometimes, as Taehyung had just done. Sometimes it even led to threesomes and steamy hot sex. But tonight, you were content with the Jin-Taehyung sandwich. Because the boys were frequently in and out of the room, you left the door open at night.

A digital watch somewhere in one of the rooms lit up its iridescent digits, sounding a slight chime when it turned 2 am.

You were having a dream, and the sound interrupted it, waking you up. You had no desire to open your eyes. You lay with your eyes closed, listening to Jin’s even breathing in tranquil happiness.

Taehyung moaned slightly in his sleep, burying his head into your neck and crushing you tighter against his chest. His thick hair brushed against your skin, and you grudgingly opened your eyes.

It was so dark, and you made out Jin’s hand stretched towards you, in case you wanted to nestle into the crook of his armpit. You smiled to yourself, loving how sweet he was. You wanted to crawl into his arms, so you decided to move slightly.

You raised your head, and your sleep-heavy eyes caught sight of a figure sidling along the open door, the sudden apparition eliciting a strangled scream from deep within your bosom. You rubbed your eyes and squinted again, but the apparition had vanished.

“What? What is it?”

Jin was up in an instant, his groggy voice somehow soothing your anxiety. Taehyung woke up too, and between them, they asked you what had happened, and you pointed at the door with shaking fingers.

“I- think I saw someone. Something.”

Jin squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Y/N, baby, what exactly did you see?”

Your nerves were shaken so bad you couldn’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“Someone- was watching… me. I only saw the eyes. And then- it- disappeared.”

Jin looked at Taehyung, the brief glance laden with meaning.

“Okay, I’ll go investigate. Taehyung, stay with Y/N.”

Jin got out of bed, tiptoeing out of the room in search of the mysterious apparition. Taehyung hooked his chin on your shoulder, hugging you protectively and blowing air softly on your neck. Jin was gone for a good ten minutes before he returned to the room.

“I did a thorough sweep, Y/N. There’s no one at the house except the guys.”

He climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over his legs. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t worry baby, even if he or she comes back, you’ve got two strong boyfriends in this room to protect you.”

God, Jin was so good at making you feel perfectly safe. You smiled and squeezed his hand back. Taehyung hummed behind you, agreeing to Jin’s words.

In a few minutes, Jin was peacefully breathing again, his hand resting on your waist. It was heavy, but the weight gave you reassurance.

─── ·❆· ───

“Yoongi!”

Hoseok’s morning routine included waking up his friend and kicking him out of bed. The guy was simply impossible to rouse, and the rest of the guys steered clear of his morning temper. He reserved a string of eloquent curses to fire at the unfortunate person who woke him up, intentional or otherwise.

Hoseok and you were the only ones immune to his foul mouth. Hoseok simply cursed back at him, and you had a completely different method of waking Yoongi up. A method that involved locking your lips around his morning wood and humming around it.

Today, however, you weren’t around to save Hoseok’s ears.

“Where the hell is Y/N?” Hoseok muttered to himself, ripping the sheets off the man curled like a kitten underneath. Yoongi had a large queen-sized bed, but he insisted on rolling into a ball when he slept. It was endearing to find him curled up like that, but the next moment he would hiss and scowl, cross at being woken up. That man certainly ran hot and cold so quickly.

Yoongi opened his mouth, ready to go off, when Hoseok pushed a pillow into his face.

“Save your breath. I’m gonna go find Y/N. Get your ass off the bed, hyung.”

The rest of the guys were up and about, chattering noisily and clattering dishes in the kitchen.

“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU USE THAT PAN FOR THE EGGS?”

“Taehyung I swear to God if you break that plate…”

“Namjoon just flip the pancake, man you’re burning it!”

Hoseok waded through the noise, walking down the kitchen and crossing a suite of rooms. His sharp ears picked up your whimpers, and he followed the sounds, briskly trotting towards the source.

The door was half-open, and he stepped in, not bothering to knock.

“Goodness, what a racket!”

Jimin had you pinned up against the wall, your legs wrapped tight around his lithe body. One of his hands was around your neck, and the other was working on rubbing your clit. He had been ramming into you hard, and he jerked to a stop at Hoseok’s voice.

“Hobi hyung!”

Hoseok licked his lips when he saw your pretty little cunt filled to the brim with Jimin’s thick cock. He felt himself stirring in his pants.

“Such a noisy one,” he said, walking towards you. “I could hear her whining all the way in the kitchen.”

Jimin grinned, his eye-smile lighting up his face.

“I’m doing my job right then.”

Hoseok snickered, tracing his finger along the bridge of your nose, bringing it over your lips. You opened up obediently, sucking on his finger with closed eyes, still impaled on Jimin’s cock.

“You need something to stuff your mouth with, darling,” Hoseok murmured, and you nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied though, and he glanced at Jimin, and the latter slipped out of you without a word.

“No,” you moaned around the finger, whimpering at the loss.

“Use your words like a good girl, baby,” Hoseok said, popping his finger out of your mouth. “Only then you’ll get Jimin’s dick back.”

You loved it when Hoseok was all riled up and ready to snap. He was delicious when danger oozed out of his persona, threatening you into submission.

“My mouth needs to be stuffed, Hobi,” you said, drawing the syllables out sexily.

“With what, baby?”

Jimin’s sly smile returned, and he bit his lip while he waited for your pretty lips to form the words.

“With your cock.”

“That’s right.”

Hoseok nodded at you, and Jimin set you down gently, untangling your legs from his hips. You went down on all fours, and Hoseok turned so his back was supported against the wall. He sunk his fingers into your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your face towards his crotch.

You had learned the art of unzipping pants with your teeth, so it was easy to unzip him. Behind you, Jimin was spitting on his palm and stroking his length.

“Please,” you whispered, lust blinding you. “Please fuck me.”

The men grinned at each other, and with one savage push, Jimin sheathed himself inside you again. Hoseok had been slapping his dick against your cheek, and when you opened your mouth to moan at Jimin’s entrance, Hoseok took the chance to push himself inside your warm silky mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand grabbing at your roots hard. “Beat that pussy hard, Jiminah.”

Between the two of them, they found a steady rhythm that let you get fucked on both sides without any lag. Jimin was going at it hard, slamming himself into you like it was his last day on earth. It was sinfully delicious to hear his angelic voice groaning loud with each thrust.

You moaned around Hoseok’s cock, tapping his thighs softly. He stopped abruptly, looking down at you in concern. He slipped out of your mouth gently.

“Yes, baby?”

You ran your finger on your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your mouth. You knew it always drove him crazy when you did that.

“Hobi, sit on my face.”

A smirk spread on Hoseok’s face, and he chuckled lightly.

Jimin pulled your hips towards him, helping you lie down on the floor. Hoseok gently placed your head down, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable in the slightest. And then, he knelt so his thighs were on either side of your face, and dipped his pelvis down a bit, ghosting his weight on you.

You reached out and pulled his thighs closer, whining “Just sit on me please.”

He giggled, his whole body vibrating in mirth.

“Want me to teabag you, little slut?” He lowered himself down a little more. “Huh? Is that what you want?”

“Mmnnhhhh” you buried your face into his balls, and Jimin lay down flat on the floor, his face burrowed into your clit. His lovely lips clasped tight around your bud, his tongue working hard and fast to reduce you to a pool of wobbly jelly.

Above you, Hoseok grabbed his dick and pumped himself hard, dipping his balls in and out of your mouth all the while. He growled when you sucked on them and used your teeth to slightly graze them.

His hands roamed over your chest, gathering your breasts and massaging them. He saw Jimin eating you out at a feral pace, and a fresh pang of want made his dick throb. He aligned his cock between your supple mounds, starting to fuck your breasts while you suckled on his balls.

“Fuck, Y/N. You are a damn fucking goddess,” he breathed, picking up his pace and working his cock faster, amazed at how your breasts bounced so beautifully around him. His thighs started quivering, and you could feel his sweat beginning to moisten his skin. He was so close.

He ran his hands over your breasts and traveled down, leaning forward a bit, doubling up so that his face was in level with your navel. His hot breath sent all your nerves into overdrive, and he started kissing a line down to your belly button.

You moaned out loud, but the sound came out strangled because you had a mouthful of balls. Jimin felt you tremble and shake under him, and he smiled into your pussy. He worked his finger into you, curling and twirling proving even his fingers could dance.

You felt Hoseok’s tongue lick a hot circle around your belly button, and that was it for you. There were stars in your vision, and you trembled so hard that Jimin gripped your calves tight, helping you ride it out. Hoseok straightened his back, seeing you shake all over. He put his arm around your neck and held on to your shoulder, wiping your sweaty forehead and kissing your hand softly, cooing to you.

Jimin shot up the next moment, wiping his mouth and laughing that sweet tinkling laugh.

“Hyung, she squirted all over me!”

Hoseok had just finished shooting his cum all over your breasts, and you strained to look at Jimin.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Jimin.” Hoseok tilted his hips and you propped yourself up to look at the mess you had created. All of Jimin’s shirt, right from the collar to his torso, was soaked.

“I’m sorry... let me clean it,” you reached your hand out, and he simply swatted it away.

“What are you sorry for? Lie back down and let me eat your pussy again, baby.”

─── ·❆· ───

Eighteen months ago

“Jinnie,” you called, turning to face your boyfriend who was stuffing his face with noodles. You were fidgeting before the mirror, unsure what your boyfriend’s reaction would be.

“Huh, babe?” he asked, still busy scraping the last bits of noodles from the takeout box.

You quickly stole one last look at yourself in the mirror and then marched to the side of the bed. His suit was strewn over the white sheets, and he was in his boxers, slurping noodles like his life depended on it.

“Tell me if this dress is okay,” you said, standing directly before him.

“Why, that’s a lovely dress, you’re so pretty!” He paused to fan his mouth, the spice finally catching up to him. “Hot. Damn hot. You. And the noodles.” He fluttered his hands wildly, coughing dramatically.

You tossed a water bottle to him, giggling at his red face.

“So,” he said, sipping the water thankfully, “why do you even ask that? I bought that dress for you.” He scrunched his nose up, looking at you in mischief. “Are you doubting my taste?”

He got a well-aimed pillow thrown against his face, and he laughed.

“Why else would you ask?” he raised his voice like a bratty child.

“This.”

You pointed to your boobs, biting your lip. He pushed the cushion under his head, ogling at your body lazily.

“I don’t see anything wrong with your rack.” He smiled proudly to himself. “You look awesome.”

“But,” you sighed, nervously pulling at the fabric. “The neckline- it’s too deep.”

“So? It’s even more sexy.”

He didn’t seem to get it.

“Seokjin,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What about the rest of the guys? What would they think? Isn’t this more... like… suitable for when we go on a date, alone, just the two of us?”

“Ah.” He finally understood what you were going on about. The dress had a very low neckline, and you found it weird that he had suggested you wear it to the party with his friends.

He cleared his throat as if he were going to say something. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not a sound escaping his lips.

“Y/N, listen. I need to tell you something. But can it wait until after the party?”

He saw the curiosity burning on your face, but you managed to nod.

“Also, don’t forget to wear the fishnet stockings I got you.”

You tilted your head and gazed at him, pursing your lips.

“Are you trying to show off before the guys, Kim Seokjin?” you asked, accusingly.

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Just wear it to the party and I’ll tell you all about it later.”

———❖———

You were slipping your heels off, Seokjin was lending you his arm to balance yourself. He had looked stunning in his suit, and you had loved the way his eyes streamed while he joked and kept everyone in splits.

It was a very hush-hush party open only for the label’s artists and their dates. Seokjin didn’t have much privacy in his life, and he tried his best to take advantage of the precious few private parties that came his way.

“Careful,” he said, catching hold of your arm just before you slipped. “I don’t know what you get by torturing your feet like that.”

You simply giggled, pouting your lips at him. “You’re too tall, Jinnie. I need to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”

And there, you had done it. You had made the master of jokes blush so hard his ears turned red. He cleared his throat, his breadcheeks straining hard to contain his smile.

“Let’s go and have a drink.”

He tried to walk ahead, but you caught his sleeve and tugged.

“Jin, tell me what the big secret is,” you mewled, loving how good his toned arms felt. “You know, you said there’s something you had to say.”

He patted your knuckles, nodding sweetly.

“I know. That’s what I need the drink for.”

You huffed, watching him saunter over to the cabinet to pull a bottle of wine. He was so damn hot when he was in suits, but he was hotter when he was pulling his bow loose and mussing his hair. You followed him to the bedroom, tagging along like a lovesick puppy.

The rest of the chaotic group were drinking and fooling around in the living room, rocking the walls with their boisterous laughs. It wasn’t unusual for Jin to bring the boys over; they were always hanging around one time or the other.

“Ahem.”

You crossed your arms, and the gesture didn’t help Jin. Your boobs were squished together and the deep neckline made it impossible for him to focus. He licked his lips and took another sip of the wine to steady his nerves.

But Jin had such an easy relationship with you. He knew that he could talk to you about anything. He trusted you so much that he just knew what he was about to say wouldn’t break your relationship. He just needed to find a way to break the ice.

“Come here,” he murmured, patting his thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”

You glided towards him, settling down on his lap happily. Your cleavage was even closer now, and Jin just lost control.

He placed his glass down, not caring about staining the rug. With a deep moan, he pushed his face into your chest, burrowing into his favorite place in the world. He rubbed his face against the soft flesh, purring in delight.

You let him be, carding your fingers through his thick glossy hair. He would talk when he was ready. Meanwhile, you would enjoy your boyfriend’s attention contently. His teeth were grazing your skin now, sucking soft love bites to show his appreciation.

“Jin,” you breathed, and he lost it completely.

“Fuck, yeah. Say my name like that.”

He lifted his head to look into your eyes, and you saw the rich want coloring his pupils.

“Lemme inspect my girl,” he whispered, pushing his hand between your legs and feeling around for the familiar wetness of your undies.

“You’re soaking already, Y/N,” he groaned, and you saw his nostrils flaring. He gulped at the feeling, and his Adam's apple bobbed enticingly. It was the most beautiful sight ever.

His finger pushed the fabric aside, easily scooping up your essence. He looked straight into your eyes as he brought his digit to his lips and licked it, curling his pink tongue and making your insides clench.

Jin was blessed with long bony fingers, and they were a bit crooked too. A fact he took huge pride in. Because it allowed him to do things to your pussy that no one else could. He slid one finger inside you, drinking in how bothered you looked.

With a soft groan, you parted your legs wider to give him better access. His finger pumped in and out of you, drawing strangled moans from your shaking body. He slowly increased his pace, never taking his eyes off you.

“J-Jin..”

He slid another finger in, and this time his crooked bony fingers found your happy place and pushed against it, reducing you to a whimpering mess on his lap. He never stopped, his chest puffing with pride when he saw how you came undone on his fingers.

“Wanna cum?” he asked, and you nodded vigorously. His grin made an appearance again.

“You gotta ride me first, baby.”

Smiling impishly, you tore the jacket off his shoulders in one swoop. His shoulders were so wide, and you loved grabbing onto them when you rode him. The white dress shirt underneath had gold-plated buttons, winking at you. Seokjin certainly deserved to be dressed from head to toe in gold.

You could hear the boys knocking things around in the living room, and the little wildcat in you reared its head. You liked the thrill of riding Jin with his friends just outside the room. Jin might never guess it, but you wouldn’t even mind if one of the guys actually walked in on you bouncing on your boyfriend’s cock.

Snaking your hand down to his crotch, you unzipped his pants and fished his dick out. He was rock-hard. Jin always had loads of glossy pre-cum, and you slowly worked his juices all over his shaft, stroking him. He grabbed your wrist, his plush lip caught between his teeth.

“Sit on me.”

You gladly obliged, shifting your hips and hovering over him. He pushed your undies aside with his thumb, and you slid down his length, sheathing him completely. Once he was fully in, you rotated your hips, drawing sharp curses from his pillowy lips.

“Ah shit, Y/N. That’s it. Faster, go faster.”

You picked up your pace, holding on to his broad muscular shoulders and bouncing as fast as you could. Jin usually wanted to see your breasts when you rode him. That day, however, he made no effort to undress you. The red fabric was bunched up unceremoniously around your waist, but your breasts were still clothed.

“Oh gosh, Y/N, allow me….”

He grabbed your hips, pushing himself off the bed and thrusting up into you. You let him take over, squeezing his shoulders and letting him rail you as he pleased.

Jin loved the whimpers escaping your dirty little mouth, the sounds egging him on to ruin you completely. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling your ears like a crescendo.

“Like my cock stretching you, huh?” He panted between his thrusts. His stamina was out of the world.

“You’re my little cockpuppet, aren’t you?”

His words always had the effect of reducing you to putty. That man had such a filthy mouth, one he was only too happy to unleash on you.

“Oh goddamn, Jin!”

You knew he was close; the taut flesh of his abdomen was quivering with the stirrings of a powerful orgasm. Your fingers clawed into his broad shoulders just in time.

Jin sounded nothing like his ordinary self when he cummed. He had a special sex voice that only you had the privilege of hearing. He moaned out loud, growling like an animal in pain as he shot all his seed inside your walls.

You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, twitching as your pussy milked him for all his worth. His breaths came out in hot pants, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“Feeling good, baby?”

He looked into your eyes, and you smiled happily at him.

“Never been better.”

The soft breadcheeks stretched into a smile. Damn, he was so beautiful when he smiled like that.

You hooked your finger under his chin.

His finger was tracing circles over the fishnet stockings, and you raised an eyebrow naughtily.

“Since when are you into fishnets?”

He chuckled slowly, chewing his lip.

“It wasn’t exactly for me... Remember when I said I had something to tell you?”

You huffed in impatience, gripping the hair at the base of his neck and peering at him curiously.

“Come on! Tell me. Now.”

He looked down at where both your hips joined. He slid his softening dick out of you, and you silently helped him tuck himself back into his pants.

The sound of the zipper closing shattered the silence. He bit his lip and peered into your eyes.

“Y/N,” there was a slight shake in his voice. “Have you ever…” His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips. “What do you think of…”

You blew out your cheeks. It was unusual for your ever-confident boyfriend to sound so doubtful.

“Just say it, Jinnie.”

He took a deep breath, and ran his fingers up your thigh, gathering his thoughts.

“Y/N baby, you sometimes moan in your sleep.”

You smiled at him playfully.

“What do I moan?”

He knotted his eyebrows and sighed softly.

“You moan the names of the other members.”

The smile froze on your face, your heart steadily dropping in your chest. It felt like someone had shoved a giant block of ice down your throat.

“I- I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t…”

Jin saw the panic on your face and shook his head hastily.

“Hear me out, Y/N.” He reached his palm to cup your cheek. “Wait, listen.”

He hadn’t meant to make you feel guilty in the slightest. He shushed you and blurted the words out:

“I meant to ask what you thought about sharing.”

You wrinkled your forehead in confusion.

“Sharing what?”

He wiggled his nose, carefully looking at your reaction as he said the words:

“Sharing you with the other members. Like- like a poly relationship.”

Your jaw dropped, and you regarded your boyfriend with a wary look. Was he really suggesting that? Or was it a snide question? You knew the Jin you loved would never be mean to you. He was too straightforward and blunt to beat around the bush.

“Are you… really asking me?”

His finger traveled up your face and traced your cheekbone.

“Of course I am. You can tell me no if I crossed a line.” He paused for a second.” I genuinely want to know if you’d like it.”

You bunched his shirt up in your fists, scared of what would happen next. Would he hate you if you said “Yes”? Would he feel inadequate? Would he feel like he’d been cheated on?

It was a while before you found your voice.

“Am I going to lose you?”

His face became serious.

“Why would you? Of course not! Baby, I’m the one suggesting it.”

He was suggesting it? The thought made your head spin. It was all too raw to process.

“Are you drunk, Jinnie?”

You knew he wasn’t. Your boyfriend had an extremely good tolerance for alcohol. He shook his head without taking his eyes off your face.

“Don’t worry, I am not. And no, I am not going to back out in the morning.”

He really was serious. You chewed on your lips, gazing at his open face.

“And- the guys, how will you talk to them about… this?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, his rare dimple peeking at you.

“I may have already talked about it with them.”

You drew back in horror.

“What?!”

He shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. He had talked about it with his guys, and they had been open to trying it if you really wanted it. Jin knew how your mind worked, and he was sure you’d want to try at least once.

“Sh, Y/N. It’s all up to you now. No one will judge you for it. I know the guys. They all adore you. Just tell me if you want to try this.”

Your hands flew to your hot face in a poor attempt at hiding yourself. Jin’s big palms caught your wrists.

“Don’t hate me,” you whined, your voice so low it was close to breaking.

———❖———

Jin held your hand tight as he guided you to the living room. The six other guys were boisterously arguing about something. A sudden hush blanketed the noise as soon as Jin ground to a halt in the middle of the room.

You refused to look up, staring at the rug like your whole body would ignite and go up in flames if you did.

“Let’s go to the guest bedroom,” Jin said, addressing the men in the room. He jerked his head at them and turned on his heel, pulling you with him.

The bedroom was the biggest in your apartment, and it housed two queen-sized beds. You had originally intended to rent it out to your friends before your boyfriend came along.

Jin drew the blinds and returned to your side, tapping his foot on the floor gently. One by one, the guys made their way into the room, forming a semicircle around Jin and you.

They were all still in the suits they had worn to the party. Granted, a few ties and bows were loosened and some suits were specked with pizza crust. But they looked just as fucking handsome as ever, disheveled or otherwise.

Everyone looked slightly nervous, and they waited for someone to break the ice. Namjoon, used to his role of the leader, took the lead naturally.

He cleared his throat, glancing at you.

“Y/N, I… um… understand this is all new, but…”

Jin stared at Namjoon, silently urging him to use his eloquent mouth to come up with something more confident.

Namjoon took a step forward, his palms open to in an attempt to instill trust.

“We all love you so much, and I assure you that there’s nothing to be worried about.”

The rest of the group nodded in silence, and you looked at Namjoon through lowered lashes. This was so surreal. Was it all a dream?

Jin squeezed your hand, and you squeezed it back. Gosh, this was so real.

You saw the polished tips of Namjoon’s shoes advance towards you.

“If you say no, we’ll leave this room and forget that this ever happened. We’d understand.”

God, no. You couldn’t say no. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t want them. But how was it all true? How did all seven of them like you back? Was it right to even think about it?

“No,” you saw the tips of Namjoon’s shoes stop abruptly on the floor.

“No," you repeated, "I can’t say no.”

The gleaming shoes hesitantly made their way towards you again.

He stood directly in front of you, and Jin let go of your hand. A sudden feeling of panic rose up your chest, but it disappeared when Jin’s hand reached to grip your shoulder lightly.

Namjoon reached his hand out, saying,

“Is it okay if I do…” He rested his palm against your hip, “…this?”

You gulped and nodded, staring into his chocolate eyes.

He gently squeezed your hip, watching you in rapt attention.

“And this?”

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.

“You’re wearing fishnets,” Namjoon noted with barely contained eagerness, and you saw Jin cheekily nod his head at his band mate.

“Just how you like it, huh?” Jin teased, winking at Namjoon, who blushed in return.

Namjoon’s hand slipped around your waist, and he murmured in a soft voice, “Is it alright if we move closer to the bed?”

You nodded your head in a daze.

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the guys parted, breaking the semicircle and making way for you. It really was happening. The thudding in your ears grew louder and louder.

Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Come sit, honey.”

You turned and looked at your boyfriend, seeking reassurance before you let yourself go completely. Jin nodded his head and winked, a little smile playing on the edges of his lips. Drawing a shaky breath, you climbed into Namjoon’s lap, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“We can stop anytime you want,” Namjoon said, gazing earnestly at your face. “Do you want to continue?”

You bit your lip and looked at the men clustered around you. This was it.

“Yes, I want to.”

A barely audible sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips. Had he been holding his breath too? Was he nervous too? Nothing about his persona gave away his nervousness. His fingers were steady, so was his voice. He had an aura of confidence in every move.

“Are you sure, baby? You are okay with this?”

“Yes... oh yes, please.”

The last word was drawn into a needy whine, and Taehyung chuckled from across the room. A few of them were sitting on the other bed, watching the events unfold. Jin was standing at the foot of the bed, his hawk eyes never leaving you. Yoongi was leaning against the wall, looking unbothered. But only he knew the way his stomach was doing backflips, the thought of having you leaving him shaking in his shoes.

Namjoon gently cupped your jaw, pulling you in and brushing his lips softly against yours. His other hand roamed over to your shoulder blade, a finger hooking under the spaghetti strap. Taking his sweet time, the man peeled the strap off your shoulder, his hand moving to free the other strap as well.

“Ready?”

His whisper was full of lust, and you nodded in urgency. With one fluid tug, he pulled the top of your dress down towards your waist, leaving your lace push-up bra for all the men to see. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere in the room, but you were far too gone to identify who it belonged to.

Your eyes flitted over to Jin’s, and you saw him looking straight at your chest, enthralled. He didn’t look the least bit concerned. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying it, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gulped at the sight.

There was a deafening silence in the room, it was almost unbearable. Namjoon’s hand roamed over to your thigh-high stockings, and his long index finger slipped under the elastic band, dragging sinful lines along your skin.

He sighed darkly, admiring the way your legs looked. He had only mentioned to Jin about his kink for fishnets in passing. He couldn’t believe Jin had remembered.

His other hand was on your back, his fingers hooked under the clasps of your bra.

Deftly, with just two fingers, he undid the clasps, ridding your skin of the offending fabric.

The cold air in the room coupled with the sudden nakedness gave you such a rush, so much that all the fine hair on your skin stood up in goosebumps. There were a few groans around you, and it became so hard to sit still on Namjoon’s lap.

“Make sure she’s feeling comfortable,” Yoongi murmured from his position against the wall, his palm resting ever so slightly on his bulge.

“Here,” Yoongi said, moving towards you and stooping to look into your eyes. “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?”

You nodded, too enthralled in his brilliant black eyes to answer.

He dropped his voice lower, sliding a finger along your jawline.

“Tell us what you want.”

Your nipples were so hard, painfully neglected by not one but seven men in the room.

“I-” You looked at Namjoon, and gripped your hip gently, running his tongue over his plump lips. “-just, can you all take your shirts off?” Your naked torso was in stark contrast to their suits, and you were hyper aware of it.

Jungkook’s little giggle reached your ears, and you sighed in relief as one by one, all the suits and dress shirts came off, revealing sculpted chests and hard, taut abs.

God, Jin was fucking ethereal when he was naked, you always had to remember to breathe when he undressed. But now, right in front of you, seven sons of Aphrodite were offering you their shirtless bodies, letting you feast your eyes on godly perfection.

Namjoon’s bare chest heaved perfectly in harmony with yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your pores.

“Please…” you whined, needy for attention. “Please touch me.”

Yoongi groaned, rubbing his face against your neck, and starting to press kisses down your shoulder blades.

Namjoon nodded at the rest of them, and slowly everyone moved towards you, crowding around you like children around an ice cream truck. One strong arm pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on Namjoon’s lap, providing better access to the others.

Jimin dove straight into your chest, attaching his mouth to your breast and suckling eagerly. He gobbled up as much of the flesh as he could into his little mouth, earning shaky moans that spilled out of your lips.

Namjoon’s finger pushed your underwear away, dipping into your core and curling a bit. He popped out his dimples, smirking hard at Jin.

“Guys, hyung has already marked his territory.”

Jin’s ears went red, and he stammered out while waving his hands,

“It’s nothing like that! It’s just impossible to resist her.” He paused, looking down and grinning at you before adding, “You’re all gonna discover that soon enough.”

You giggled, catching sight of his red face and puckered lips. Jimin was still attached to your chest, working his devilish tongue on your breast.

“Show some love to the other tit too,” Jin said, and everyone chuckled, the tension in the air evaporating completely.

Soon enough, Jungkook’s veiny hand was kneading your other breast, and everyone closed in on you, their eager hands running all over your body, sending you tumbling into bliss.

─── ·❆· ───

Present day

“Yoongs?”

He was hunched over some sheets of music, his nerdy glasses making him look wise and serene.

“Huh?”

He removed his glasses, running his hand through his shock of black hair, mussing it up. A genuine smile lit his face up when he looked at you.

“Yeah, baby?”

You knew he was busy, producing music for one of his collabs. But he had asked you to hang out with him in the studio. And that was when Jungkook had entered, his face hostile and sullen, passing by to drop some of Yoongi’s lyric sheets. He had practically glowered at you, slamming the door behind him unnecessarily loud.

“Um, do you think Kook is mad at me?”

He looked surprised.

“No, why would he be?”

You hadn’t the faintest idea why. But something was up. You knew that. You had tried multiple times to talk to Jungkook, but he had just shrugged and slipped out of your efforts to light up a conversation.

“I think he doesn’t like this.” It had been a thought that had started out as doubt, but Jungkook’s behavior made the doubt grow stronger and stronger until you were subconsciously convinced that it was the reason.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.

“He doesn’t like what?”

“This.” You flung your arms out, tracing the air, frustrated. “Maybe he doesn’t really want to be in this relationship? I tried talking to him many times, but he just won’t speak to me.” You pursed your lips. “It has been weeks since he even smiled at me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi drawled, reaching to pull you closer. “You know he loves you. We all do. He’s probably overworked and exhausted. Try talking to him after some time, you know?”

You nodded absently, thinking of how Jungkook had sprung up like a startled cat and stomped out of the room while you were watching a movie with all the guys. Just because you had placed a hand on his thigh.

There was something off about Jungkook. But he shut up like a clam, choosing to slip out of the way whenever you tried to talk to him.

“Y/N?”

You snapped back to focus on Yoongi. He was partially right. They were all working their asses off for the new album. You would talk to Jungkook later.

“Okay, babe,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Your hand reached for the phone.

11:21 pm.

Yoongi had made lunch reservations for both of you. You still had plenty of time.

“You get going on that sexy producer thing you do,” you said, cozying down on his sofa. “We still have some time on our hands.”

So back he went, his serious face poring over the sheets of music sprawled on his table. Yoongi probably didn’t realize, but he looked like a grumpy kitten when he was concentrating hard on something.

You smiled at his bent head, swiping on your phone to check for emails from work. There were none. Good. Maybe you could scroll through Pinterest for new design ideas. You worked for an ad agency as a graphic designer. You had to always be on the lookout for new stuff.

The endless stream of pictures was flooding your feed, and your finger was trying to catch up. Ding. The notification chime wasn’t usually enough to distract you. But this time, it held the title you just couldn’t resist. It was a YouTube notification from your favorite graphic artist.

You were halfway through the video when the suggested section caught your eye. An involuntary chuckle shook your chest when you read the title.

“Boy band BBS talk about DATING and SECRET GIRLFRIENDS?!!”

It was classic clickbait. Something everyone seemed to be doing for views. You knew it was just a clip from the Red Carpet of the MTV Music Awards. You still remembered the hickey you had given Hoseok that had forced him to wear a turtleneck under his suit. Delicious times.

You had watched that video already, but something just pulled you towards the video. You would never tire of re-watching your seven gorgeous boyfriends slaying the red carpet.

Sure, you were right. It was just a clip that everyone who had followed the awards had already seen. The familiar questions about collabs, celebrity crushes, favorite food, every question your boyfriends were already tired of but answered anyway, made up the first 4 minutes. Click bait much?

“Haha we have all the love in the world, we have our fans,” Namjoon was saying, his sweet little dimple flashing at the camera.

“But,” the redhead insisted, her dazzling smile widening. “You boys have any secret dating lives we aren’t privy to?”

The answer was already in the question. No one was supposed to be fucking privy to that information. You pursed your lips, waiting for Namjoon’s sassy reply to tumble out of his lips.

“We wanna focus on our careers, we don’t have time to date,” he said, a small lilt of mockery creeping into his voice.

Damn, you had teased him mercilessly that night, bratty about him saying ‘not having time.’ You remembered how he had begged to lay a finger on you, and a satisfying warmth spread over your belly.

The video was ending, and you grinned at Namjoon’s closeup fondly. But just before the replay button came on, you caught onto something odd.

You had been scrolling down, and a few comments had popped up in your line of vision. People were screaming about how dazzling their bias looked, or how proud they were of the boys. But there were a few ones written by hawk-eyed fans.

“not at how bored JK got of the question at 6:48 lmao he’s so pissed”

“damn, was it just me, or did JK actually ROLL his eyes sfakjfkjfk hahaha”

What?

You hit the replay button, dragging the seeker to the last few seconds of the video.

There, glowering with mad eyes, stood Jungkook. He was well behind Namjoon, a bit out of focus around the 6:45 mark. He had put on a charming smile throughout the video. Until the host popped the dating question, at least.

For anyone else, it would seem like Jungkook was bored with the question. But you knew his quirks. He had been casually gazing at the camera, letting Namjoon answer the host’s questions. The word “dating” left the host’s lips, and Hoseok lightly touched his turtleneck at the exact time when Jungkook’s expression flattened out to a cold hard stare. He rolled his eyes ever so subtly, his face turned sideways. He had been annoyed.

Annoyed at Hoseok that he was reminded of who he was dating. Annoyed that the question had reminded him of the hickey his turtleneck was covering. More like disgusted. Disgusted at what exactly? At the host for asking that question? Or- was it at what dating meant to the eight of you?

“Y/N, babes?”

Yoongi’s voice finally reached your ears, and you looked up in a daze.

“Huh?”

He scratched his head, his other arm supporting the jacket casually flung over his back.

“I said we can go. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

Oh, the lunch. You had totally snapped out of focus.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you said, jumping up and slipping into your shoes. Yoongi watched you closely, a bit concerned.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You look... odd.”

You debated if you should tell him what was bothering you. But you didn’t want to ruin the date with your speculations. You’ll talk about it to your boyfriends after you had enough time to sort your feelings.

“No, it’s probably nothing, Yoongs. I’ll tell you later. Let’s go, I’m famished.”

You would have to tackle Jungkook and his surly temper later.

─── ·❆· ───

“How’s the track shaping up, hyung?” Taehyung asked, pouring more wine into Yoongi’s glass. You were cozily settled between Yoongi’s thighs, the warmth of his chest on your back.

“Hm, I worked out most of the chords,” Yoongi returned, picking up his refill and taking a sip. “But I still have some more work to do, especially with the bridge.”

You hummed contentedly, listening to your boyfriends discuss music, sprawled on the floor around the coffee table. It was lovely, watching their serious faces talk about what they loved and lived for. The door opened, and Jungkook walked in, clutching his sports bag.

He mumbled an “I’m home,” directed at his friends, before turning to kick off his shoes.

“…and before I knew it, the time had flown like… phew!” Yoongi was saying, while you eyed Jungkook’s bag. He had been going to the boxing ring too often these days. What was up with him? His hair was damp, and his face was flushed.

“…and then I bundled Y/N up into the car and we rushed off,” Yoongi said, and there it was again. You had been watching Jungkook’s face, and at the mention of your name, the annoyance - no, the disgust flashed across his features. He scoffed to himself, unaware of your attention. It wrenched your heart to see that, and you looked away.

Jungkook picked his bag up again and stormed towards his room. You watched his retreating back, only half-listening to Yoongi’s praise for the lobster frittata.

“You guys keep talking, I’ll be back,” you said, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Uh-huh,” Taehyung purred, craning his neck and offering his cheek for you to kiss too.

“Clown,” you giggled, dropping him a kiss, and giving him a playful shove. “I’ll be gone just a sec, don’t miss me,” you said, winking and jumping up to your feet.

You had to talk to Jungkook and ask him just what his problem was. You just couldn’t bear his sourpuss charade any longer.

———❖———

Loud music hit you in the face as soon as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room. The guys never bothered to close their doors, but Jungkook had lately started closing his. Another red flag waving right under your nose.

He was on the floor, doing pushups and grunting out at the exertion. His sinewy arms were trembling, and he had changed to shorts that revealed his muscular thighs shining with sweat.

The guy certainly was on the fast track lane to exhaustion.

“Jungkook,” you called out, straining your voice to be heard over the blasting music. “Hey! Can you hear me?”

He went on exercising without any acknowledgment, so you stormed to the stereo and turned it off with a click.

“What the fuck?” he growled, snapping his head up before he caught sight of you.

“Well, you couldn’t hear me,” you said, crossing your arms and standing your ground.

“Of course I could,” he sneered, getting up to his feet and wiping the sweat off his chin. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? You ignored it? What is that supposed to mean?”

He picked up his towel and started dabbing at his forehead, not even sparing you a glance.

“What do you want, Y/N? Why are you here instead of sucking Yoongi hyung’s dick?”

Your jaw dropped.

It was completely out of character for Jungkook to be so prickly. He was always the sweetest and goofiest man out of the lot. What had gone wrong?

“Jeon Jungkook, you dare not speak to me that way,” you said, bristling. “What is up with you? You are so sullen whenever I try to spark a convo.”

He scoffed and threw his towel down. His face was a strange mix of anger and disgust. You couldn’t understand what had ticked him off so bad.

“What is up with me? You tell me, because you’re so smart, Miss. Perfect.”

He crossed his arms and puffed his chest, using his height to his advantage to stare you down.

You huffed in impatience, stressed at his refusal to be drawn out. You had to simmer down and try to make him say what was bothering him.

“Jungkook, tell me why you’ve been so pissy lately. What did I do, to make you so upset? Just tell me.”

He glowered at you, the tips of his ears going red as he clenched his teeth.

“Good question. What didn’t you do?” His eyes swept over your clothes, taking in the wine splotch on your shorts. He averted his eyes, staring at his treadmill instead. “Whose cum are you leaking this time?”

The question was almost inaudible, but the spite in it had already reached you and poisoned the air in the room.

You stood rooted to the spot, shock numbing your senses.

“Did you just-” you struggled to keep the quiver in your voice under control. “-say that…”

You had never been in a real fight with any of your boyfriends, and this was a cold punch to your gut. You had only had the occasional bickering and loads of makeup sex after every disagreement. But this was new. This was raw, palpable and spiteful, and left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You waited for him to rush and say something, to explain and say he didn’t mean it that way. Just anything really.

But he didn’t clarify or even attempt to take his words back. He simply stood there, glaring into your eyes in contempt.

The YouTube video flashed before your eyes. The disgust in his face when he even thought of dating. When he thought of you. The thought crept steadily into your chest, twisting and crushing your heart. He resented you. He resented the relationship.

When you opened your mouth to break the heavy silence, your voice came out in a whimper.

“If you didn’t want to be in this relationship, you could have said so. No one forced you into it.”

He didn’t reply, choosing to glare at his treadmill in stony anger. You went on.

“If I’m keeping you from finding someone else or dating other better people, you could just say so. Instead of insulting me like this.”

He snapped his head to face you, fury painting his face red.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you said, scoffing and masking the low sob that threatened to escape your chest. “You resent being with me. You can’t even stand me. You don’t have to stay and feel trapped in this relationship. You think- you think-“ You bit your lip, “-you think I’m a slut. You could have just declined to be part of this. None of us forced you.”

His eyes went wide in shock.

“Why would you say that? That’s not fucking true.”

“Are you screwing with me, Jungkook? You don’t even look at me anymore. You cringe when I touch you. Do you think I’m blind to not see how much you hate being in the same room as you? You haven’t kissed me or spoke a kind word to me in weeks.”

He sighed hard, running his hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

You weren’t going to cry; you weren’t one to break down so easily. But there was a strange sadness in your tone when you asked,

“Do you love someone else? Are you feeling- trapped with me…with the rest of us?”

He grimaced, the steely look coming back to his features. He shook his head in despair, straining visibly to keep his calm.

“No. What do you… No, what the hell? Of course not. You’ve got it all fucking wrong.”

“Enlighten me then. Spit it out, Jungkook. I’m not a mind reader.”

Taehyung’s voice drifted from the living room, in a muffled sing-song tone:

“Y/N! Starting to miss you here!”

Jungkook’s lip curled, and he stomped to slam the door shut with a bang. He turned to face you, hot rage clouding his eyes.

“This. It’s this. I can’t bear this anymore.”

You had no idea what he was talking about. But you hated loud noises, and the loud slam had pissed you off.

“What exactly is this this you’re talking about?”

He scrunched up his face impatiently.

“God, Y/N. You just- you’re so oblivious all the time.”

This was getting nowhere. He was talking in circles, and you weren’t going to humor him anymore. The slam of the door had already set a headache off, and your patience was wearing thin.

“Just say it already. I’m not interested in guessing games.”

He buried his face in his hands, clawing at his skin. When he looked at you again, you could see the vein in his forehead stand out.

“I can’t do this anymore. This is so stupid. It’s such a dumb idea. I don’t like this. ”

There it was. Out in the open.

“So, you want out? Are you breaking up with me? I already told you that no one is forcing you to stay. And you told-”

“Shut up, Y/N. Just shut up.”

You stopped, jaw open at his interjection. He shook his head, and you could see his nostrils flaring.

“Y/N, I love you. Okay? Don’t be silly.”

“What? Why the fuck do you keep contradicting yourself, Jeon Jungkook?”

He sighed and pulled your wrist, dragging you to the wall. He trapped you between his arms, pressing his warm body against yours, dominance lighting up his feral eyes.

“I want you to be mine. Just mine.” He sighed again, and his hot breath fell on your lips. “I can’t share you.”

“But- “

Your words were cut off abruptly, as his lips crashed into yours, silencing any words that were bubbling up in your mouth.

His kiss was hot and desperate, as if he was scared to stop. Scared that you would say something that would break his heart if he released your lips. The corner of his lip was trembling, and he bit into your lips to hold on just a little longer.

He had strong muscly arms, and they were crushing you relentlessly.

“Stop…” you breathed, pushing against his chest. “Jungkook, stop”

“No,” he moaned, whimpering with closed eyes. “Y/N, please…”

You pushed harder and violently struggled in his grasp until he had no choice but to let you go. Shoving him away, you spat at him with wet lips.

“Jungkook, this is a polyamorous relationship. You know it doesn’t work that way.”

He threw his hands up to hold the sides of his head, a painful look on his face.

“I can’t… it’s not fair. I can’t even stand the thought of the other guys touching you. Kissing you.” He grimaced. “Or fucking you.”

It was your turn to grimace.

“It’s not fair? I’m not just yours. You knew this when you got into this relationship. Jin is the one- “

He snarled and raised his voice cutting you off.

“He’s responsible for this fucking mess. He’s so fucking selfish, and …and…”

“Stop right there, Jeon Jungkook,” you said, your voice raising to a shout. “Don’t you dare call him selfish. He’s nothing but supportive of sharing. Don’t you dare.”

Jungkook kicked the treadmill’s frame, losing his temper.

“He stole you from me. He fucking betrayed me!”

“Don’t be delusional, Jin was my boyfriend longer than any of you.”

“HE STOLE YOU FROM ME!!!”

You flinched at his loud voice, pressing a finger to your throbbing temple. Clutching the sides of your head, you walked away from him.

“I’m outta here. I can’t listen to your deluded screams anymore.”

You stomped to the door, turning the knob to get out. But Jungkook was quicker, and he reached the door to block you from opening it.

“Let me go,” you said, speaking through clenched teeth.

“No,” he said, leaning his back against the door and glowering at you. “Fucking listen to me, Y/N.”

You had no other choice, so you folded your hands and glared at him in stony silence.

“I was the one who fell for you first. I told Jin hyung that I was in love. He told me I was too young, and that it would damage the band’s reputation, and that I would lose all our female fans if the word got out. He convinced me that it wasn’t wise to date.”

You didn’t reply, choosing to scowl instead. He angrily went on.

“And then imagine my surprise when he went ahead and asked you out. And you betrayed me by falling for him.”

Your scoff interrupted his flow.

“I’m sorry, I betrayed you? Have you gone crazy?”

“It would have been me if Jin hyung hadn’t stolen you from me. I would have been your boyfriend, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let any other guy lay a finger on you.”

The disgust in his tone annoyed you to no end.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I chose Jin? Do you think you could just turn back time and replace him? Are my feelings that insignificant to you?”

He shook his head urgently.

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“And did you tell Jin that you were in love with me? Did you explicitly say my name?”

“No, I- I told him I was in falling for someone. I didn’t say your name,” he mumbled. “But he ought to have known, you were the only girl in my life at that time.”

You blew your cheeks in exasperation.

“Did you think he could fucking read your mind? You’re being so damn stupid, Jungkook.”

He whined again.

“He ought to have known. He knew I liked you very much.”

“He was just looking out for you! He didn’t ‘betray’ you. Why the hell did you agree to be in this relationship then, if you were so against sharing?”

Pain flashed across his face once more.

“Because there was no other way to be in your life. I gritted my teeth and bore it so long just to have a part of your heart. But…”

You tapped your foot, waiting for him to continue.

“…But I can’t share anymore. It kills me to see them look at you that way. It just…kills me.”

There was no response ready on your tongue for that. You had never expected such a situation to arise. You had talked and talked for days with the guys before jumping into the relationship. You had been confident about the success of the talks, but you weren’t sure anymore.

You sighed heavily. This wasn’t going to work. Jungkook and you, it was strained beyond repair.

“I love you, Jungkook. But I can’t and won’t choose you over the others. It doesn’t work that way.”

Something inside him snapped, and he snarled at you, bunching up your nightshirt in his fist.

“What if you got pregnant? Whose child will it be? Who are you going to marry? All seven of us? How will you explain it to the world?”

You struggled in his grasp, clawing at his hand to shake it off.

“It will be Jin I marry. And if I got pregnant, there will be eight people to love the child.” You closed your eyes, clenching your fists. “There’s nothing that can change that.”

The repulsion on his face was clear as day.

“You’re a fucking slut, Y/N.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Hey,” Jin called out, smiling at you from his position on the couch. Yoongi and Taehyung were passed out on the floor, the empty wine bottles sprawled around their bodies.

“Hey,” you said, flashing him a watery smile. “When did you come?”

“Just now,” he said, patting his thigh and signaling you to sit on it.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“I need to-” you winced, gingerly pressing on your knuckles. “-can you get me some ice?”

His gaze fell on your swollen knuckles, and he jumped up hastily.

“Y/N baby, what happened?”

He rushed to get the ice, barreling to a stop in front of the fridge. There, with his head poking into the freezer door, stood a figure in gym shorts.

Jin knocked at the curly mop of hair, complaining loudly.

“Yah Jungkook-ah, get your head out. I need to get some ice.”

Jin was taken aback when Jungkook whirled around, sporting a bright crimson nose, a tiny trickle of blood running down one nostril.

“The fuck-“ Jin started to say, but Jungkook pushed him away, wiping his nose and storming back towards his room.

When Jin came back to you with a bowl of ice cubes, his quick mind had already sensed a problem.

“Y/N, what happened? Did you- punch him?”

He raised his eyebrow, scrutinizing your face.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t been ready for that.

“But why? You’ve got to tell me. We shouldn’t be hitting each other like this.”

You let Jin hold your fingers and ice them, holding your silence and thinking how best to explain it to him.

“I’ll tell you, but not now.”

He clucked his tongue in dissent.

“No, now.”

“Jin, just leave me be. Not here.”

Your boyfriend pursed his lips, and the disapproval was evident on the curl of his mouth. He pulled you up and guided you to your shared bedroom. It was farther down the suite of rooms, out of earshot from Jungkook’s.

“Out with it,” he said, closing the door and pulling you down to sit on the bed. “Now.”

You never kept secrets from any of your boyfriends. And this was a very big issue that you had no intention of hiding from Jin.

“Jungkook... he called me a slut.”

“What?”

He was on his feet, anger rising in his chest. He knew it wasn’t just dirty bedroom talk, judging from your swollen knuckles.

“Y/N, why did he say that? Tell me everything from the start.”

Ten minutes later, you had barely finished speaking when Jin stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

─── ·❆· ───

Namjoon and Jimin had been out all evening, working on the lyrics for Jimin’s new solo. They were surprised when they got back to a living room full of people, all looking stern and pissed.

“What’s up?” Namjoon asked, hanging his coat on the hook. “Did someone break something?” He internally prayed that no one had discovered the burnt pan stowed under the sink.

No one responded.

“What is it?” Jimin whispered to Taehyung, sliding into a spot on the couch.

“It’s Y/N…” Taehyung started to whisper back, and Jimin exclaimed loudly,

“Oh gosh is she pregnant?”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Taehyung hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes scanned the scene. There were only seven people in the room. Serious meetings were supposed to have all eight in attendance.

“So, what is this about?” he asked, settling down beside Jin. “And where’s Jungkook?”

Jin remained silent, his face red in a stormy temper. Namjoon looked past Jin at you, addressing you instead.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to respond when Jin broke the heavy silence with a piercing shout:

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

A minute later, a door opened and Jungkook slunk down the corridor, head bent. A hoodie was keeping his head covered, and he sat down on the couch opposite yours. He looked up obstinately, throwing his hood down, earning shocked gasps.

His nose was bleeding, and the blood had dried up in a red streak. His eye socket was a dark purple, and his cheekbone was swollen, effectively sealing his right eye shut.

Everyone was stunned, and indignant voices started talking all at once.

“Who did that?”

“How did this happen?”

“Jungkook, who did this to you?”

Jin snapped at no one in particular, barking out an annoyed “Everyone just shut up.”

He had a sonorous voice, one that commanded respect, especially when he raised it to a shout. The room quietened down, but a low murmur arose again when his shock of hair bounced, revealing a bleeding gash on his forehead.

“I called all of you here to say that our beloved Jungkook wants out of this relationship.”

He raised his palm to silence the babble of voices that broke out again, continuing with:

“He insulted our girlfriend and she broke his nose.”

Jungkook bowed head, choosing to scowl at the carpet.

“And the black eye?” Yoongi’s mild voice asked.

Jin dug his nails into his palms.

“I did that.”

Namjoon shook his head, tsking in disapproval.

“We need to hear both sides of the story, Jin hyung.”

When no one said anything, Namjoon looked at his youngest friend’s bent head.

“Well, Kook? Got anything to say?”

Silence.

Jin stared daggers at the man in the hoodie, his face a hot shade of crimson. His fingers gripped yours, squeezing them protectively.

“Well then,” Taehyung said, breaking the long awkward silence. “If you’ve got nothing to say…”

You couldn’t hold bear the tension in the room anymore.

“He doesn’t wanna share He wants out!” you exclaimed loudly. “He wants me all to himself! And…” you bit out, glaring at Jungkook, “…apparently, I’m a whore for being in this relationship.”

“What?!”

Hoseok was up on his feet, his fists clenched. Yoongi reached his hand out to grasp his hand urgently.

“Sit down, Hobi-yah.”

The murmur of indignant voices was rising to a fever pitch when Jungkook suddenly stood up. Head still downcast, he muttered:

“Save your breaths. I’m moving out.”

No one stopped him, and his dazed surprise was hidden under his hoodie. He dragged himself out of the room, the stares of his brothers burning into his skin.

“The fuck just happened?” Jimin asked, inspecting your swollen knuckles. “Why is this happening?”

You chewed on your lip, wondering the same thing. What had happened to your close-knit boyfriends? Why was Jungkook suddenly discontented with the bond you all shared? Would your boyfriends slowly fall apart and float away like Jungkook?

You looked around the room, watching the intent faces of your boyfriends as they listened to Jin’s account of the day’s events. Would you lose them all one by one?

─── ·❆· ───

It was really awkward to go to your boyfriends’ studios when they practiced. Awkward because Jungkook was there too, dancing and sweating it out with the rest of them. He removed himself from the room whenever you showed up, and the shift in the mood was palpable.

The others confided in you that they weren’t on speaking terms with Jungkook either, and that the practice sessions were becoming too uncomfortable to be around each other. You knew well enough that it would take a toll on the group’s performance as a whole. After all, communication was paramount to ensure they were perfectly in sync for their dance routines.

You wished to attempt one last time to see if you could talk sense into Jungkook. So, you found yourself standing outside Jungkook’s studio one evening, long after the others had packed up and left. You had half a mind to turn around and leave. But a small voice inside your head kept telling you to give it one last try. Your boyfriends were already suffering enough. You owed them one last-ditch effort to try and mend things.

You raised your hand to press the buzzer, still unsure. Was this going to be a mistake?

The door opened even before the buzzer stopped buzzing. Jungkook stood in the doorway, with his grey sweatpants on, his hair swept back with a headband. His eyes widened in surprise, and you saw his muscles flex when he tightened his grip on the doorknob.

You were at a loss for words. It was strange because you were never out of words.

“I-uh…I thought…”

His veiny arm found purchase on your blouse, and his lips came crashing down on your mouth. His mouth worked urgently, claiming dominance before you could oppose. He pulled you inside and gripped both your hands behind your back, slamming the door closed.

“Jung…” you panted out, but he pressed his mouth harder, drowning your words. He nudged you towards the wall with his body, pinning you in place. His mouth never ceased attacking you, while he worked to trap your wrists into one hand.

His other hand roamed all over your skin, clawing and grabbing your flesh in hunger. Jungkook couldn’t believe you had shown up on his doorstep after so many weeks. It felt like a fever dream, and he held on to every piece of skin he could hold, desperately anxious not to let you slip away.

“I knew you’d come back,” he moaned between breaths, “…to me.”

You struggled in his grasp, trying hard to shake his hand off your wrists.

“No,” you breathed, turning your head slightly to stop the barrage of soul-sucking kisses. “I didn’t come back to you…”

He froze momentarily. Just a moment later, his grip hardened around your wrists. The soft emotion on his features evaporated into thin air.

Without a word, he pushed you tighter against the wall, pinning you under his shoulder blades.

“So, you’re telling me…” he hooked a finger into the waistband of your jeans, “…that you didn’t want me? You never thought about…” he pulled the zipper down, “this?” His hand tugged the jeans down urgently and slithered into the crook between your thighs.

“Stop it,” you said shakily, feeling your arms starting to fall asleep.

But he paid no heed. He pulled your leg and hoisted your hips up against the wall. You felt insecure with both your legs wrapped around his body, with nothing to support you except the wall behind your back.

“You’re telling me…” he repeated, lifting your hips and slowly dropping to his knees while adjusting your legs so they were on both sides of his neck, “…that you didn’t miss me at all?”

By that time, you were hovering mid-air with your neck against the wall and the rest of your body awkwardly supported on his shoulders.

Your hands were free of his grasp, but they were still pretty useless because they were trapped under the shoulder joints that were straining to keep you from falling.

He grinned from between your legs, licking his lips maliciously. His finger pushed the crotch of your underwear aside. He bent lightly and blew against your bare core.

You couldn’t help it, your core clenched at the rush of hot air and it drew another smirk on his face.

“See? You want me,” he crooned, laying the pad of his finger against your clit. You jerked slightly, and he shushed you softly.

“Don’t squirm, love. You’ll fall and break your neck,” he added with a wicked smile. “We don’t want that, do we?”

“Stop it, Jungkook,” you started, but he dove into your clit at the exact moment.

`Though his demeanor was relaxed and careless, on the inside he was anything but. He pressed his tongue flat against your bud, lapping all your juices with feral thirst. He saw your thigh muscles tremble at his ministrations, and he smiled into your pussy. Gosh, he had missed you so damn much.

His tongue dipped and swirled around inside you, and it took all your discipline to stay in place without squirming and snapping your neck. You hadn’t forgotten what a master Jungkook was with his tongue.

He started sucking and sloppily slurping up everything you had to offer, so hard that you were sure you weren’t going to last. You were definitely going to break your neck.

“Stop, just…” you moaned, feeling a cramp beginning in your neck. “I can’t… let me down. Just let me down, please.”

He raised his head from your crotch.

“Why should I trust that you won’t run?”

You could no longer feel your arms.

“Don’t you trust that I love you?” you replied, struggling to stay in position. “Do you think I am fine with losing you? Don’t you understand that I love you just as much as I love the others?”

He cocked his eyebrow at the last sentence, the slight sting of the words sinking in. With a reluctant grunt, he put his hands under your hips, slowly peeling you from the wall and setting you down.

You weren’t sure if you were paranoid, but it seemed that he knew your arms were still numb. He took his sweet time tugging your pants further down your thighs, but all of a sudden, he flipped you over and caught hold of your wrists again.

Damn, right when the little pinpricks on your arms had begun and your arms were regaining strength.

He pushed and held you down so your chin was against the floor, while his knee dug into the back of your thighs. He felt your hands struggle, and he grinned to himself.

“Y/N baby, you’re so weak. Don’t fight me, love.”

You cursed and writhed under his body, but a steady hand of iron clawed at your hips and didn’t let go.

“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said, the slight sound of clothes scuffling behind you filling your ears. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

More sounds of something wet.

Page Break

Jungkook gave his shaft a few furious pumps, coating his thick glossy pre-cum all over his length. Damn, he was oozing so much pre-cum. He licked his lips and worked his dick, thinking of all the times in the past week that he had fantasized about your tight little pussy stretched around his cock.

His eyes scanned the pretty little birthmark on your left ass cheek. He smiled fondly, remembering how insecure you had been of it when you first started dating him. And the others. His smile vanished as quickly as it had come.

Jungkook had a lot of girth, and he usually prepped you well before entering. But not today. Not when you were writhing beneath him, trying to escape. With one quick push, he plowed into you, burying himself to the hilt.

A surprised whimper escaped your lips. He gave you no time to adjust, slamming into you repeatedly. The force of his thrusts shook your body, earning gasps that you fought hard to bite down. He kept up the unrelenting pace, pounding harder and harder with each thrust.

“What,” he panted between breaths, “won’t you moan for me?”

“Get off me, Jeon Jungkook,” you ground out through gritted teeth. He only chuckled in response.

His panting grew harder, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he was close. What would he do after that? He wasn’t going to let you go easily.

He pulled out and flipped you over, his hand returning to hold your hips down. Aligning his cock against your entrance, he pushed in again.

“Look at me,” he said, voice thick and needy. “Look at me when I cum in you.”

You stared back in defiance. Even though you loved Jungkook just as much as the others, none of them ever violated you like this. They hadn’t ever laid a finger on you against your will.

“You don’t love me,” you said calmly.

He raised an eyebrow, still slamming his hips into you.

“Your mind games won’t work on me, Y/N,” he replied, heavily panting. “You’re not going anywhere.” He licked the sweat on the corners of his mouth. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

With each thrust, your love for him withered and crumbled even more. A deep sense of regret washed over you for ever loving him. He didn’t understand love. He didn’t respect you. You had to get out of his grasp as quickly as you could. Would he take you somewhere and hold you hostage? Would he lock you up in a room and never let you see the light of day?

His thighs began shaking, and his thrusts became sloppy.

“Look here,” he grunted, teetering dangerously close to his release. “Fucking take my cum.”

He closed his eyes, his dick pulsing and throbbing inside you with the force of his orgasm. His grip on your body momentarily slipped, and you seized the chance.

Gathering all your strength, you punched him square in the balls, causing him to hiss in pain and topple over you. Even before he could react, you hit him in the ribs and pushed his body off, hauling your lower body out from under him.

His hand desperately snatched at your legs, but you kicked him and slithered away. He screamed out and clutched at your ankle, not letting go.

“Get off!” You screamed, reaching for the jeans bunched around your thighs.

The anger was bubbling in his face.

“No!” he shouted, trying to pull you by the ankle.

You swung your free leg at him, sending a hook kick that caught him under the chin with a sickening thud.

Without looking back, you scrambled up and unlocked the door, pulling your jeans up and running as fast as you could.

─── ·❆· ───

“Hot chocolate?”

You took the cup from Taehyung’s hand and nestled closer to Jin. Your boyfriend had bundled you up in blankets and seated you on his lap. Hoseok was sitting next to Jin, massaging, and rubbing your feet.

Namjoon and Jimin were sitting cross-legged on the rug, their mugs of hot chocolate forgotten. Yoongi was looking at the sheets of rain outside the window.

Everyone was eerily silent. To be fair, all of you had been shattered when Jungkook left. Over the weeks, a faint sense of normalcy had returned to the household. Until Jungkook cruelly wiped everything away again.

Jin had gone all kinds of crazy when you had run into his arms, your hair disheveled and tears streaming down your face. He had been unable to get a word out of you. He had examined the bite marks and welts with murderous rage, his blood boiling at the sight.

He had maintained his silence when you stayed in the shower for hours on end, curled into a ball on the bathroom floor. He had ground his teeth, bursting at the seams trying to hold his temper. He had soaped your battered body, his heart breaking at the way you tried to stifle your broken sobs.

When you had finally acquiesced to go out of the bathroom, he had carried you outside and dressed you gently. He had then bundled you up in the softest blankets as if they could protect and comfort you.

He had bent to kiss your cheek when you uttered it. Just one word.

“Jungkook.”

You had seen his jaw flexing dangerously. Bunching his shirt in your fingers, you had pulled him closer. Slowly the rest of your boyfriends had returned home. They had all seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere. Somehow, they had realized that something was wrong.

You hadn’t said a word when Jin displayed the welts on your wrists for them to see. He had told them about the scratches and nail marks all over your thighs, and you listened numbly. It had felt like he was talking about someone else.

The sound of someone’s phone brought you back to the present. The notification sound chimed again, and again. Suddenly, all the phones in the room started chiming incessantly, cutting through the heavy silence in the room.

“What the hell,” Yoongi said, reaching for his phone. “The fuck’s happening?”

All of you stared at Yoongi, the notification sounds still going off in the background.

“What the fuck!” he shouted, furiously swiping at his phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Taehyung went to his side, alarmed at the panic in his voice.

“Hyung?”

“FanLive,” Yoongi blurted out, holding his phone up towards all of you. “Jungkook is on FanLive.”

“What?” Namjoon asked mildly, hopping to his feet and peering into Yoongi’s screen. “What about it?”

Yoongi hit the speaker button, setting the volume to Maximum.

“… I was so nervous,” Jungkook’s syrupy voice rang out from the phone, and your ears perked up. “…but I am so happy that I shared this with you. I love all our fans. I really hope you will make her feel safe and welcome.”

Jin slid his buzzing phone out of his pocket, and a news notification flashed on his screen. You looked at it dumbfounded, not trusting your eyes.

‘BBS BAND MEMBER REVEALS GIRLFRIEND!’

Jungkook’s voice was still pouring out of Yoongi’s phone.

“I love this person so much; she makes me really happy.” You could almost hear his bunny smile. You felt sick.

“… We talked a lot and decided it’s time to share our secret. So, yeah… my girlfriend’s name is…” he paused, and all your muscles tensed, “…Y/N.”

You blinked. The constant ringing of phones in the room grated on your nerves. Jin’s knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the sides of his phone. He was seething, the anger growing inside him like an inferno.

“That. piece. of. Shit,” Jin spat out, his body trembling in rage. “I’m going to…”

Jungkook’s rabbity voice piped up again, he was probably showing something to the camera.

“…this is a picture of us…”

You pounced on Yoongi, grabbing the phone.

“Give me that, Yoongi.”

Jungkook was grinning in a successful attempt at cuteness. A turtleneck sweater was hiding the bruises on his neck that your kick had caused. You knew he had probably used heavy concealers to mask the injuries from the struggle.

He was holding his phone up to the camera, and you saw the picture he was showing. It was a selfie Jungkook had taken with you several months ago. You were both smiling at the camera, leaning against each other cozily.

“… this is my favorite picture, Y/N looks so cute…”

Jungkook droned on about how much he adored you and how lucky he was. He even had the nerve to say how happy his band members were for him. You didn’t bat an eyelid, drinking in all the blatant lies he spewed on live camera.

“…that’s the reason for this surprise live stream. Thank you for your love, please accept Y/N too…”

He kept repeating your name as much as he could, as if he wanted to punch your name into every viewer’s brain. That you were his. And his alone.

The live stream ended, and Yoongi flung his phone down in disgust.

“Sick, pathetic leech…” he began, slamming the coffee table. “I am going to strangle him.”

He rose to his feet, but Jimin gripped his wrist tightly.

“No, hyung. Not now.”

“He violated Y/N!” Yoongi screamed out, and Jin flinched. “And now this? I want him dead!”

“Yoongi-yah,” Jin’s firm voice stopped Yoongi’s angry tirade. “Yoongi-yah, we’re all furious. I get it. But we should take a minute to think what to do.”

The younger man glanced at you, and you nodded.

“He has branded me to the world as his girlfriend. You will tarnish yourself if you go beat him up. And that’s not intelligent.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement.

“I want to wrap my fingers around his throat and feel his life leave his body though,” Namjoon said, an unusual murderous look glinting in his eyes.

The buzzing of your phone briefly broke your attention, and you glanced at the screen. It was Hae Jung, one of the BBS stylists. The texts were already flooding your screen. The latest ones popped up in the notification shade.

Hae Jung: Get out of the apartment quick!

Hae Jung: You can’t be seen with the rest of them!

Hae Jung: Y/N!! Answer my calls just once!

“Uh, Jinnie?” You tugged at his sleeve, pulling him gently.

He was simmering in a cold rage, and his gaze was sharp like knives when he snapped out a “What?”

You had a temper of your own and you found it kindling. Taking a deep breath, you displayed your phone for him to see.

“Hae Jung says I should leave the apartment at once. I can’t be seen with any of you. She’s got a point.”

Jin’s wide shoulders broadened as he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Taehyung’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and he said,

“She’s right, hyung. Y/N has to leave.” He composed himself to mask the little break in his voice. “Just for now.”

Namjoon, whose brain processed things 10x quicker, gripped your hand, alarmed.

“I’d be damned if we sent Y/N straight to Jungkook’s apartment.” He gritted his teeth, “Especially after what he just did to her.”

His eyes involuntarily swept over the bruises on your neck.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said, folding his arms. “We’ll keep her safe at a hotel.”

Jimin’s fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s send a few of our bodyguard hyungs to keep her company.”

Hoseok, who had been talking to one of the managers, cut the call and flipped his phone closed.

“It’s already a nightmare on Twitter. We need to secure Y/N as fast as humanly possible. All the tabloids will be raining upon us like vultures soon.”

Namjoon’s leader instincts kicked into action, and before long they were smuggling you into one of their getaway cars.

“Here,” Jimin said, slipped out of his coat and draping it on your head. “Stay low, baby.”

Hoseok slid next to you, and just before he could slam the door shut, Jin’s veiny hand slithered into the crack.

He caught hold of your wrist and gripped hard, as if transferring all his strength over to you. No words were exchanged, but the weight of unspoken words was evident in his grip. You nodded silently, and he let go.

Without losing another second, Hoseok slammed the door and the car raced into the traffic, headed straight to a hotel.

─── ·❆· ───

#WEAREHAPPYFORYOU

#BBSGIRLFRIEND

#WELOVEYOUJK

#CONGRATULATIONS_OUR_JK

The bird app was full of Twitter trends talking about Jungkook’s bombshell. Hoseok’s phone kept buzzing every few seconds from all the posts and hashtags tagging his band’s shared Twitter handle.

He had removed your SIM card and broken it, handing you a new one instead. He had also signed you out of all your social media accounts. You had been essentially cut off from any media that would give your identity away.

“Baby, I’ve ordered room service,” Hoseok said, drawing the blinds closed. He did a routine sweep of the suite, checking for hidden cameras out of habit.

“Do you want anything, Y/N?” he asked, kneeling on the floor, and peering under the bed.

“I just want you to hold me,” you said, hugging your knees and gazing at his bent form.

He looked up, those soft brown eyes emanating so much warmth. Without a word, he dragged himself up and crawled into bed, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

His nose was warm against the side of your neck, and you inhaled deep breaths of his comforting presence. Hoseok had the innate ability to bring cheer wherever he went, and it was probably why your boyfriends had sent him to keep you company.

“Y/N,” he said, drawing the words out. “Don’t… please don’t resent us for this,” he said, and your heart broke.

“No, no, Hobi-” you said, turning slightly to look into his glistening eyes. “-I never will.” Taking his hand, put it against your cheek. “I’d never resent falling in love with all of you.”

He nodded and smiled happily, his fears crumbling to dust.

“Just- don’t let Jungkook ruin what we have,” he whispered, and you hummed in agreement. You had not for one moment regretted being with them. Jin had opened the doors wide open to so much love, much more than you had ever imagined.

─── ·❆· ───

It had been four days since you went into hiding. Your boyfriends took turns to sneak visits, it was a mystery how they managed to achieve that feat without getting caught by paparazzi. To be fair, the hotel you were sheltered in catered to celebrities all the time, and the staff were very discreet.

Your stomach rumbled, and you scratched your tummy. Whether it was due to your impending periods, you didn’t know, but you craved ramen. Especially the kind with tteokbokki – that was your favorite. Did you dare go down to the nearest convenience store and eat some?

Throwing Jin’s hoodie on, you let your hair loose under Taehyung’s beanie. Hoseok’s baggy pants were your favorite, they were oh so comfortable. Your sunglasses took a while to find, they were buried at the bottom of the drawer.

Looking at the mirror, you were satisfied with your camouflage and decided to step out. The walk to the convenience store took longer than you had expected. There wasn’t one in sight for a few blocks. It felt good to stretch your legs after so many days. But by the time you entered a store, you were already wondering if it was a good call.

The store was quiet. A bit too quiet for your liking. You’d have much preferred a crowded and noisy ambiance, it would have made you far less noticeable. The heavy oily smell of sizzling fritters wafted to your nostrils, interspersed with the earthy aroma of ground coffee beans.

There were a few girls around the ramen aisle, and you tried hard to be inconspicuous while scanning the rows for your favorite robokki brand. All went well, and you managed to get the packet scanned and billed.

You were waiting in line to use the hot water dispenser, wishing you’d stayed put in the hotel room. The girl standing before you turned with her cup of hot noodles, catching you smack in the eyes. The sunglasses flew off your face, and the hot liquid from her noodles splashed across your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she shrieked, setting the noodles down in an attempt to help you.

“No, I- it’s okay,” you muttered, deciding to get the hell out of there. In your haste, you bumped into a few more people standing in line behind you.

“Hey,” a girl shouted, picking up your sunglasses from the floor. “You left this…”

You shook your head and tried to dart out of there, but she was quicker. She body-blocked you, extending her arm towards you. You mumbled a quick “Thanks” and tried to move, but she persisted.

“I’ve seen you…” Suddenly, recognition dawned on her face. “You’re Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend.”

“Er, no,” you said, kicking yourself for ever leaving the hotel.

“Ji Hee! Soo Yeon!” she shrieked, beside herself in excitement. “Come here quick!”

The girls you had seen in the line circled on you, wondering what the commotion was about.

“It’s her! It’s Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend!”

They advanced on you slowly, peering into your shocked face.

“You?” one girl snickered in a mocking tone. “What makes you so special?”

By that time, you were trapped amid four girls, and no one else seemed to care about the bevy of girls in the ramen section.

Another girl took a section of your hair and flicked it in disdain, clicking her tongue.

“Just what did oppa see in you?”

The third one egged her friend on saying, “Good that you threw ramen over her, Min Ji!”

“Empty the rest on her too!”

You started to back away, but the girl behind you pushed you, sending you tumbling forward.

“Let me g-“

The girl had thrown the rest of her noodles on you before you even finished your sentence. Instinctively, your eyes closed for a split second, and you felt your hair being pulled. A weak slap managed to jerk your face sideways before the owner yelled out loudly.

“Hey, no fighting. Take it outside!”

One arm grabbed your hoodie, and another pulled you out by the hair. The one called Soo Yeon threw your sunglasses on the pavement and stepped on it, crushing the glass to bits.

Passersby began to stare, and you had no choice but to make a run for it. You were stronger than your assailants, partly because Jungkook had been your gym partner, and all those arm days came to your rescue.

It was no use to try and keep a low profile now that you were out on the road. Pushing one girl away, you landed a karate chop on the arm pulling your hair. The owner of the arm yelped in pain, and you barreled towards the third one, butting her torso with your head and sending her tumbling down.

You ran like the wind, not once looking back. You hoped fervently that no passerby had recorded the whole tussle on their phone. God, you’d ruin your boyfriends if the little spectacle ever went viral.

Dripping in ramen and terribly out of breath, you made it to the hotel’s private entrance. A car was pulling up, and a startled voice called out your name just as you pressed the elevator button.

“Y/N?”

Jimin bounded out of the car, startled at seeing your disheveled appearance.

“What the hell happened?”

─── ·❆· ───

“But why did you call this urgent meeting, Namjoonah?” the band’s executive PD asked, rolling the paperweight on the table. The conference room in the BBS building was where the group’s most iconic song lyrics were birthed. It had been a room that had witnessed loud arguments about line distribution, heartbreaks over missed awards, and collective joy over record breaks.

“Let the others arrive,” Namjoon replied, his jaw set in determination.

Jin came in soon, followed by a steady trickle of the rest of the band. All except Jungkook of course.

“The fuck is he?” Namjoon bit out, impatiently glancing at the digital clock.

“We’ll get down to business anyway, good that’s he’s not here now,” Jin said, putting an arm over Taehyung’s lap to stop him from fidgeting.

“Well then,” the PD said, dragging a notepad towards him. “What is the purpose of this meeting?”

Everyone looked at Namjoon in unison, expecting him to spell it out for them.

“We all want to terminate our contracts with the agency,” he began, causing the PD to inhale sharply and lean forward urgently.

“What?”

“… effective immediately,” Namjoon said, his mouth set in a straight line.

“But why? Have we failed you in any way? You can tell me your grievances! I can try and resolve…”

Yoongi’s slow drawling voice eclipsed his boss’s.

“We are willing to reconsider if…”

The PD’s eyes widened in urgency. “If?”

“If you terminate Jungkook’s contract instead.”

Right on cue, the door opened and Jungkook walked in, an air of lazy arrogance stamped all over him.

He slipped into a seat, swiveling on his chair from left to right just to spite the men who were glaring at him.

“Don’t own a watch?” Jin asked scathingly, earning just a cool raise of eyebrows in response.

The PD was still speechless from the earlier discussion, so he didn’t participate in the bickering over Jungkook’s lack of punctuality. The babble of voices grew louder and louder around him.

“I don’t care for your disapproval,” Jungkook was shouting, slapping his fist on the table, when the boss shook himself into action.

“Stop!” he yelled, his voice cutting through the cacophony.

He glared at the youngest member, effectively silencing him.

“Now, what the hell is this actually about?” He turned to Jin. “You! Eldest! Speak.”

Jin looked at Namjoon, who nodded encouragingly. He cleared his throat, unsure how to start.

“Well, you know about our girlfriend…”

The boss sighed. Of course, this was about you. He had been privy to the unusual relationship between you and his artists. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this rift to occur sometime or the other. He had had years of experience working with hormonal youngsters to expect otherwise.

“Personal conflicts cannot influence your contracts,” he said, eyeing Jin sternly.

“Yeah, tell him,” Jungkook drawled haughtily.

“And you, shut your face,” the boss spat out, furious that his multimillion-dollar band was fraying at the edges because of girl problems.

“Personal?” Taehyung asked incredulously. “Of course it’s personal! Our girlfriend got assaulted and harassed because of him!”

“Correction. My girlfriend,” Jungkook said, staring at Jin’s throbbing neck veins. “She’d have been safe with me if she hadn’t been kidnapped and left uncared for.”

“The nerve,” Hoseok shouted, getting to his feet angrily.

Jimin pulled him back to his seat, hissing sharply.

“Sit down, hyung. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Jungkook leaned forward, his black eyes glowering at Jin.

“I want to know where you’ve hidden her.”

“You’ve caused her enough harm,” Yoongi snapped. “You were the one who violated her privacy. You showed her to the world. You are the reason she got assaulted. You jeopardized her safety.”

Jungkook pursed his lips in stony mutiny. He had no witty response to Yoongi’s allegations.

“Well, PDnim, we want Jungkook’s contract terminated immediately. We refuse to work with him,” Jimin said, getting back on track.

“If you terminate me,” Jungkook said, leaning on his chair and rocking himself gently, “I’ll sue you. Every one of you. I’ll sue the agency till there isn’t a penny left.”

─── ·❆· ───

You knew it hadn’t gone well as soon as you saw the disgruntled looks on your boyfriends’ faces. They had all come to your hotel room with sulky faces.

“Babe?” you asked, holding the coat as Hoseok shrugged himself out of it.

“No go, Y/N,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “PDnim can’t terminate him. And he threatened to sue the agency too.”

There had been only a slim chance of it ever working out, so it wasn’t a big blow. But it did sting your boyfriends to even think of working with Jungkook ever again.

Jin pulled you snug against his body, sighing heavily.

“We’ll figure something out,” you said, squeezing his big arms that were wound around your torso.

“Hmm,” he mumbled half-heartedly. “We got you some lamb skewers,” he said, burying his face into your neck.

“Oh damn it, I sat on it!” Namjoon whined, guiltily eyeing the now squished package he dug out of his coat.

Everyone giggled, a sudden ease settling amid everyone in the house. It felt just like old times. Well, at least partially.

“Fuck you, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said, pulling the package from his clumsy brother. “Now I need to operate on this and save it.”

Another wave of giggles. Somehow it felt like you would all survive the situation and turn out okay.

“Mmm, kiss me,” Taehyung said, sandwiching you between Jin and himself. “I love it when you laugh.”

He dipped his head, cupping your cheeks fondly. Jin pressed himself against your back, his hands moving up to cup your breasts.

“Yah, get a room!” Hoseok snickered, slapping Taehyung’s butt playfully.

You smirked in response, pulling Taehyung’s boxy lips towards your mouth, and leaving teasing licks on the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, don’t tease,” he complained, his outrageously deep voice sending shivers up your spine. Jin’s hands squeezed your breasts through your shirt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Jin was a sucker for your tits, he loved playing with them. They were his drug of choice.

His bulge poked your back, and he slowly moved backward, taking care not to disturb Taehyung’s kissing. The others barely paid attention, they were lounging about, talking, or scrolling through their phones.

Jin was halfway through a doorway when Jimin’s surprised yell stilled him.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, furiously swiping on his phone.

Taehyung was just as startled, and you peeked around his head to see what bothered Jimin so much.

“What is it?” you began to ask, just as the others started to crane their heads over Jimin’s phone.

No one responded, so you pulled yourself out of the Jin-Tae sandwich and went to investigate. Pushing Hoseok’s head to the side, you stared at Jimin’s screen. And your jaw dropped to the floor.

‘BREAKING NEWS: BBS Band member’s girlfriend cheats on him with ANOTHER member!

Tap to see SHOCKING pictures!’

─── ·❆· ───

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

A Frank Adler One Shot.

Summary: It’s Frank’s wedding night… but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) allusions to cheating…

Pairings: Frank Adler x Reader

A/N: Just a little smutty one shot featuring everyone’s favourite Dirty Boat Daddy. Written for @onlyjamesbarnes 1.5k Follower Challenge. Prompt in bold. Congrats babe!!

Lyrics from Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Frank Adler Master list // Main Masterlist

❤️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔

I'm gonna make you bend and break,

Say a prayer, but let the good times roll

In case God doesn't show…

Frank had always been powerless to resist you. He was a moth to your flame, but like always, you play with fire and you get burnt.

But now, you were the one burning, burning hotter than the sun.

With a groan, you ground your hips down as you leaned back, rolling and rocking down onto him. That face, sharp chiselled jawline covered by a slightly nearer than usual scruff looked back at you, his perfect profile silhouetted against the moonlight which drifted through the curtains of the hotel room.

How could something that wrong feel so fucking right?

And I want these words to make things right, But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life.

"Who does he think he is?"

If that's the worst you've got, better put your fingers back to the keys

He shouldn’t have let you in, but you knew he would as soon as he fired you the message with his room number. Your signature knock had sounded across the plush suite he was spending his last night as a ‘single’ man in, and like a sacrificial lamb welcoming its slaughter, he’d opened the door.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to see you.” You blinked up at him. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, from the rehearsal you’d sat through, tie discarded, collar open. He cut a stark contrast to the boat greased and oil stained, salty air cured man you were used to.

He held the door open for you, stepping back and allowing you in. Without a word you walked over to the grand windows the space provided, offering a look at the shoreline outside and below. The view was breathtaking at night, the moonlight shining off the waves as they lapped at the shore, mere metres away from where tomorrow he would take his vows.

Through the reflection of the window behind you, you could see him just as his hands gripped at your waist. You turned on the ball of your foot, manicured fingers running up his chest from his strong pecs to his collarbones and over his shoulders to around his neck, your lips quickly on his. Your tongue slipped inside, tasting a hint of scotch, a half drunk glass of which sat on the small coffee table to the right. Frank moaned against your mouth while your fingers slipped through the neatly trimmed hair of his neck.

You pushed against him slightly with your body, the back of his legs hitting the chair besides the coffee table and he took a seat, breaking your kiss.

“This shouldn’t-“

“Shhh.” You shook your head. “Just give me tonight, please.”

He stared at you with lust blown eyes, different to the playful glint he normally possessed when he used to look at you, as you thought for a second about your next move, bottom lip already swollen from his kiss between your teeth.

You knew he was a goner.

"Y/N," he managed to croak out as you straddled his lap, seating yourself over his now hard cock, the rough fabric of his dark dress pants constraining him, giving you just enough teasing friction agasint your sensitive inner thighs. His large hands slid up your thighs and under your light coloured, flowy dress as you moved your lips over his again, giving him access to your ass, finger tips grazing the barely there material of your panties.

You ground down against him, your hips rolling in a circular motion as he growled into your mouth, squeezing your cheeks with his hands. You kicked off your sandals, making a thud as they hit the plush carpet. A sound that matched that of your heart. A heart that squeezed in your chest, as if someone had wound and elastic band around its middle knowing that tomorrow you’d watch him takes his vows.

And everything would change.

Frank broke away from your lips, to lick and nip at your jaw and down your neck, tongue rolling against your sternum. His face drilled between your breasts, inhaling your scent.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and plucked them open skillfully, French manicured nails raking across his chest, causing him to shudder and groan. You reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with little trouble, lifting your hips slightly, showing a strength in your thighs as you lifted away from him, to undo his flies. You adjusted yourself, pushing up on your knees just a little to allow the room you needed to dip your hand just under his boxers waistline, gently gripping at his dick.

“No, not here.” He growled, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want you in the bed.”

The bed. Where he would spend his first night as a married man.

It was so wrong.

Yet you happily obliged.

It was a well practiced tango the pair of you had danced over the years, and now here you were, him keening underneath you with a desperation you’d come to know well.

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls and it gave you the chills. You held the power and control as he struggled to keep his.

With a quick movement, Frank sat up, pulling you flush against his chest, the angle hitting you just at that pleasurable spot he always managed to hit within you. His head dropped, lips and teeth gently teasing your nipple, large hands splayed agains your spine as he lavished you with affection.

You started grinding down harder, looking for that clitoral stimulation you wanted and as you found it, he moaned deeply into your ear.

“I’m close, but I don’t wanna… not yet.” His words were a plea, a plea that he wasn’t ready to end, and you knew he didn’t simply mean tonight.

But it had to. There was no way around it.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great

"He tastes like you only sweeter"

"Just...let...go," you purred against him.

"Oh fahk," he ground out as his feet planted firmly into the mattress and his hips thrust upward. It didn't take much, a few strong and hard drives and you were crying out his name, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you came around around him.

"Jesus, fahkk, I'm gonna fahking.... Oh fahk," he swore vehemently, his old Boston drawl thick as he drove hard into you for a final time, exploding his load deep into you, spraying your walls with ribbons of white cream.

The pair of you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Frank kept you held to his chest as you both drew ragged, heaving breaths. After a moment, Frank pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, no words needed.

And you blinked back a solitary tear.

*****

I'm looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad.

And this crystal ball, it’s always cloudy except for when you look into the past

One night stand

Frank had fallen asleep with you in his arms, not quite ready to let you go. But you were long gone by the time he woke the next morning, the only evidence you’d been in his room was a scribbled note on the pad on the night stand.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of your life.”

He’d folded the note up and slipped it into his breast pocket, not quite sure why. Maybe it would keep you close to him in those moments he needed to feel you, who knows.

Who knows why any of this had started in the first place.

He watched Mary walk down the aisle first, her bouquet in her hand had been dropped as she had leapt into his arms for a hug, laughing as she told him how excited she was. He’d kissed her cheek and placed her down and she stood by his side, watching as his bride and her father started towards him.

It was then Frank’s eyes had found yours as you watched him, and he swallowed, his chest contracting.

He could still feel your eyes on him and he couldn’t get the image of you bouncing on top of his cock out of his head. He blinked as someone said his name, and he looked at the officiant, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, little nervous.” He apologised, flashing a cheeky grin before he took a deep breath.

A couple of I-Dos later, he was told to kiss his wife. So he did.

And all he could taste was you.

Man and wife walked hand in hand down the aisle to applause, and at the end they stopped and the new Mrs Adler peered up at Frank, a soft smile on her face.

“You happy?”

“Of course.” He smiled back.

“Good, because choosing me to spend your life with, well, I actually think it’s the second best choice you’ve ever made in your life.”

Frank blinked as he heard the click of the photographer's camera. “Oh? The second? What was the first?”

“Letting me into your room last night.” You grinned, your hand sliding up his tux, the diamond studded band catching the sun, glinting in the bright light.

Frank grinned at you, before he arched his eyebrow. “Time will tell if it really was bad luck to see my wife the night before.”

“Didn’t feel like bad luck to me,” you smirked, you hand gently tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he dropped his head to kiss you, the cheers and applause once more chiming in your ears.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories

#onlyjamesbarnes1.5kchallenge #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler fanfiction #frank adler fic #reader insert #Chris Evans #chris evans characters

301 notes · View notes

qyllenhaal · 3 years

Text

❛ Bunny ❜

Series: The Devil I Know

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k~

Summary: Reader Surprises Chris on their week long vacation together with something that he's been begging for for a long time

warnings: 18+ only!!! Unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom/sub elements, roleplay, creampie, breeding kink, cumplay, age gap (reader is in her late 20s)

A/N: I'm hoping to start taking requests soon! I've been so busy with life that my ideas for this series are drying up.

Enjoy!

Y/n would be a damn liar if she said she wasn't turned on by the roleplay idea that Chris brought to her and the way he kept calling her his "bunny." She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes at first, it just sounded so ridiculous to her, but the more she thought about it. the easier it became to envision it happening.

Her in a Playboy bunny costume sounded so basic to her, but the excitement in Chris's eyes showed that it meant something to him.

She felt guilty as he explained how boring his sex life was before meeting her. He was trying to make her feel better about the idea, and feel a sense of pride, instead she felt loathsome. She wasn't able to determine if she felt more sorry for him or his wife. Their marriage was dying anyway and was going to die whether or not Y/n was in the picture, but she still felt awful about being the final death blow to their multi-decade marriage. He wanted to take her up to his father's cabin up north while his wife stayed home? It sounded good in theory but something about it made it hard for her to say yes.

"C'mon, you deserve a break. You've been working your ass off to get Withers primaried and you actually have a chance of unseating him. Don't you think you should relax? You work so hard all the time honey."

It was all too enticing to say no; to be whisked away from an entire week and ravished by her lover.

"There she is," he teased when he saw that smile forming on her face, "I knew you'd come around to it. I'm going to make sure you don't lift a finger, and you get to taste my famous ceviche."

He kissed her cheek and let her get back to work before she could come up with a reason that causes her to change her mind.

Y/n kept her excitement to herself but she was over the moon. Once she let the guilt simmer, she began to fantasize about the possibilities of an entire week of having Chris all to herself without interruption. They'll be able to act like a normal couple if only for a week.

She got herself through two weeks of more tough work, but it was fulfilling to know that she was succeeding in her work, and that she had a trip with Chris on the horizon.

He hadn't brought up his little idea since she'd agreed to go on the trip. It seems as if he forgot all about it as his shock that she said yes had consumed his thoughts. Y/n couldn't let it go though. She couldn't stop thinking about it now that they were going to be gone for an entire week. She could wear that little get up for days and give him a sight that's going to be etched into his brain until the day he dies. Y/n loves that she has that effect over him; the ability to make his heart race and his cock hard with just a simple look.

It was not a cheap costume to buy because she didn't just want to buy any regular costume that could be bought at party city. No, she wanted something that was better quality and could endure Chris attempting to tear it off her body. She paid extra for the shipping so she had it in time.

When it was finally in her possession, she stared at it in awe. She was tempted to put it on, to see how she looked in it, but she wanted it to be a surprise for both herself and Chris. The material it was made of felt nice; the entire costume looked like it could've been owned by a real playmate. It wasn't often that Y/n felt overwhelmingly sexy, but she did just simply staring at the costume in its precious box. Chris was up in age, she hoped he didn't have a heart attack.

"It's so beautiful up here."

When Chris said a cabin up north, she didn't think all the way up north in Maine. But it was perfect. Only two weeks into fall but the trees were filled with vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves.

The cabin was near a river that held the reflection of the trees. It seemed as if it had gone untouched for years, but it was filled with pictures. Y/n could pick out the face of a younger Chris in some of the photos, but everyone else was unrecognizable.

"That's my grandfather," he interrupted her thoughts when he caught her lingering on a particular picture.

She glanced at him before bringing her eyes back down to the image again. "You look so much like him," her fingers skirted across the glass. She felt a weird pang of longing hit her in the stomach. It's as if Chris wasn't just a few feet away from her. Maybe what she felt inside was shame disguised as something else.

"C'mon," he grabbed the framed picture from her hand and placed it back where she found it, "I wanna show you something."

Y/n trailed behind him, her hand in his, as he guided her through the house and up the stairs.

Chris led her upstairs and to another set of stairs. He took her to a dusty attic which somewhat confused her. Then grabbed a box that looked older than her.

"Remember that time you tried to show me that constellation...what was it...Be- Belt- B-"

"Betelgeuse."

"Yea that was the one," he took the top off of the box and she peered into it, "now you can show me other star thingys in the sky."

She laughed but wrapped her arms around his neck. It was an unsuspecting gesture from him, but she welcomed it nonetheless. He could get really sentimental at times and it would just make it harder on her that she couldn't publicly love on him.

"It's great Chris. Let's just hope the skies are clear one of these nights."

He smiled and kissed her cheek for the nth time today.

"Alright. I'm gonna go get started on my famous ceviche. You enjoy yourself however you want. Walk around, explore the place," he stroked her cheek before leaving her alone to go get started on dinner for the two of them.

It had been a long day of driving and all Y/n wanted to do was go to sleep, but something was buzzing inside of her. She hated that Chris's dinner and "famous ceviche" was probably going to go to waste because if her plan works successfully then he isn't going to give a damn about dinner.

Y/n made sure she packed the box holding the costume at the very bottom of her suitcase. She held her breath as she held it up in the air and stared at it. She's sure that she could wear a garbage bag and Chris would still want to fuck her but she couldn't stop herself from being so nervous about putting it on.

She did it anyway and was relieved when what she saw in the mirror looking back at her wasn't so bad. In fact, she looked sexy. The look was complete with the bunny ears and bowtie. She wore a simple lipstick, one that was going to be smeared later on, paired with coats of mascara. At the end of night Y/n wanted to see the proof of his handiwork.

Even though she knew he wanted this, she was nervous about how he'd feel about her "act". She's been deliberating for a week whether or not she should go all the way with the fantasy but why not? Chris deserved it after convincing her to come on this trip. Besides, he works hard too.

"Hun, the food is ready!"

A few seconds of silence didn't make him flinch, but after a few more minutes passed and he didn't hear footsteps coming down the stairs, he was confused. Another call of her name resulted in nothing but silence; she didn't even respond to "Button."

She could be asleep, he thought, but he was still curious. If she was then he could at least catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, put the food away, and then come join her.

"Y/n?" His voice got softer as he approached their bedroom. It was cracked enough for him to see that the light was on. He pushed it open and there his girl was. On the bed and dressed like she stepped out of his dreams.

"What is this?" His laughter was mixed with interest and disbelief. Just some time ago she was vehemently saying "no!" regarding his idea and now she was dressed like a Playboy bunny.

"Do you like it, daddy? I got it just for you."

Chris felt himself hardening in his jeans. Sheer tights stretched over her thighs and he just wanted to rip it off her body. She looked good enough to ruin.

"Of course I like it Button," he cooed as he approached her waiting body on the bed. He touched the material of her outfit still in a state of disbelief. This was his ultimate fantasy.

"I'm glad you like it. I did it just for you daddy," her voice was soft, girlish, and coquettish as she palmed his cock through his jeans. He swears he could cum just from this if she kept it up. He grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You're a naughty little bunny, aren't you?"

"Nooo daddy I've been good," she inched herself backwards on the bed before slowly turning onto her stomach all the while keeping eye contact with him, "I've been a good girl."

"I suppose you have," he didn't even try to argue against her claims. That pout on her lips made him incredibly harder.

Chris ran his hands over her ass and she mewled softly at his warm, strong hands on her. Y/n closed her eyes, a cocky smile on her lips knowing that she probably turned his brain into mush. She pushed her ass into his touch for more.

"The things I want to do to you..."

"Tell me daddy. What do you want to do to me?"

"Uh uh, you don't go demanding things around here. You've been a good girl, but I can easily change my mind. I can make you take my fingers and edge you while you wish it was my big cock splitting you open, but I don't think my bunny wants that."

She pouted and pressed her face into the bed. Chris chuckled at how easily her demeanor changed. He put his knees on either side of her legs and grabbed her hips to drag her ass to his pelvis. She gasped at the swift movement whimpered when he started to mime fucking her.

"Oh baby you look so good like this. I don't know if I want to keep you all pretty and in this costume while I fuck you, or take it off of you and ruin that cute little face of yours."

He had plans to do both, but he liked to hear her whimper when he told her about the utter filthy things he was going to do to her. If she thought he was going to rip it off of her without savoring how good she looks then she's wrong.

He's so grateful that he packed that polaroid Y/n gave to him as a birthday gift. It was how he got around her "no pictures" rule. She never let him take pictures of her, not even on the second phone he bought just to contact her. How could he not document how she looks after cumming hard for him? Or when he leaves a trail of white all across her bare chest? He often had to rely on his memory, but he planned on this trip being different.

"Stay just like that Bun."

Y/n broke her character for a little bit, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arched back when he left the room. Sometimes he did little things that annoyed her, but the way she jumped back into her character when she heard him come back showed her that the annoyance was just a façade.

"So perfect," the camera's shutter fired and the camera spit out the first ever photo he has taken of her.

Y/n wanted to protest against him, but she stayed silent. It wouldn't hurt to have a few polaroid's as keepsakes; she even looked back at him and made eyes at the camera.

Chris could spend all day photographing her, but the strain in his pants was becoming too painful. He placed the camera down and stood at the edge of the bed.

"Come put that pretty little mouth of yours to use."

Y/n hopped up from her position and found herself on the floor in between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She clumsily fumbled with his belt and fastener on his pants. "Eager little bunny, slow down a bit," he taunted.

She tried to listen, but she's desperate to get him in her mouth. His hard cock springs out from its restraint and almost hits her cheek. She gasps lovingly at the pre-cum seeping from his blunt head. She wanted to taste it, but she didn't do it without Daddy's permission. Instead she wrapped her hand around his length and squeezed him.

Chris watched her stare at his cock in awe, like she wasn't already familiar with it. She gave him a few languid pumps and he sighed at her soft touch. He thought about how beautiful it would be to paint his cum across her breast. She looked like an absolute sex-pot; it was hard for him to control himself.

"That feels so good, bunny. You're such a good girl — keep pumping me...a little faster bun... good girl," his praising voice was as smooth as a cat's purr. Y/n felt the presence of her arousal when her sex pressed against the material of her costume.

The pre-cum oozing from his tip made her mouth water. He didn't instruct her to do anything further, but she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her lips around his length. He didn't seem to have a problem with it either because he sighed and pushed her mouth further down on his cock.

"You're so beautiful like this bunny...my precious girl," he cooed between breaths.

Her mouth felt like heaven, her warm tongue laving him with saliva and washing pleasure over him. He felt the muscles in his lower abdomen spasming as she sucked on him faster and feverishly. The concentration on her face was so cute to him, but greatly juxtaposed by the light makeup that was beginning to smudge on her face.

His cock hit the back of her throat and she gagged on him. Y/n tried to pull herself off, but he kept her still, forcing her to relax her throat while he filled her mouth.

"That's it girl — fuck — you're going to make me cum. Is that what you want? Me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?"

Y/n tried to shake her head no and say out loud, but she was muffled by his cock. She loves to watch him jerk over her tongue or other parts of body until he cums, but she wanted him to cum while he was fucking her; he could always paint her tits later.

"You don't want me to cum down your throat bunny? Where do you want me to cum?"

Chris knew she was unable to answer, but that was apart of the thrill. His ego was through the roof and the sense of power he felt because of this was astounding. She made him feel so many things at once, but all he was concerned with now is seeing her body shiver with pleasure.

He let go of his physical grip on her and she took the opportunity to come up from her. Her lips were pink and there was a line of saliva collecting her mouth to his cock.

"Look at you, so pretty," he petted her as he stared into her eyes that held a glossy look of desire for him and him only, "get on the bed bunny."

He wanted to worship her. He wanted to make her cum over and over again until his name was the only thing left on the tip of her tongue. As she laid out on the bed for him, in a costume just for him, he wondered how he got so lucky with her. They were so different, but they were somehow meant for each other.

"You're so gorgeous," his hands glided down her stocking-covered thighs. He squeezed her flesh and he groaned as if he could feel what he was doing to her. She made him dizzy just from how beautiful she was.

Y/n's body anticipated every stroke of his hands on her body. He didn't leave an inch of her exposed skin untouched. He touched and looked at her like she might disappear at any moment. It was his mission to memorize how her body feels under his touch.

"Daddy," she whined, not being able to stand to ache between her legs anymore. She isn't sure what she wanted him to do, she just wanted him to do something.

"Be patient, sweet thing. Let me take in how beautiful my little bunny looks."

"You like when I dress up for you, daddy?" She further parted her legs as a suggestion for him to place himself between her legs. Chris picked up on what she was doing, but he didn't follow through.

"My perfect little bunny," his voice trailed off as he palmed her breast through the costume.

Y/n moaned and arched into his touch. It wasn't long before he was pawing at the top of the costume to free her breast. The costume was tight against her body, but he managed to get what he wanted. He cupped her tits before he leaned down to wrap his lip around her nipple. His thumb teased the other one, stroking it to life. Her delightful sighs sounded heavenly.

"Feels so good," Y/n whined. She tried to grind against him in desperation but he wasn't having any of it. More of his weight was pressed against her to keep her still. He switched over to sucking on her other nipple. His eyes met hers before lightly closing from the feeling of ecstasy.

The mess that was forming between her legs was becoming unbearable. Y/n knew for a fact that she soaked through her costume and with just one swipe of his hand, Chris would be able to feel it. She didn't say anything but she was just so impatient and wanted him to give the same attention to her sex. But he wanted to savor her in this costume before he takes it off of her and just fucks her in the bunny ears.

"This body is so perfect."

As his hands slowly slid across her stomach, the cogs began to turn in her head; she wanted this night to fulfill all of his fantasies.

After taking his sweet time with her body, Chris was finally getting her out of the costume. It won't be the last time she wears it this week, but it was bittersweet to see her out of. However her body alone was driving him wild. She still had the bunny ears on which made her look incredibly cute.

"My lil' Bunny has been so patient for me," he kissed her cheek before moving to kiss the front of her throat, "I'm gonna reward that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n felt the lust boiling over as Chris moved down her body and his was finally home between her legs. "You got so wet for me bun," he taunted her. His fingers prodded at her slit but didn't push in all the way like she needed. It was torturous to tease her when she had been such an obedient girl for him.

He didn't keep her waiting for long. His tongue was diving through her silky folds to get a good taste of her.

"Undress daddy, baby."

The gruff of his voice made her feel even wetter. She often teased him for being so much older than her but oh did she love all the psychical manifestations of his age. The grey in his hair drove her wild, and she loved how grey his beard was whenever he grew it out.

She grabbed at his soft cotton t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The light dusting of grey hair on his chest tickled her fingertips. She couldn't stop herself when she leaned in to nip at his collar bone. Her lips were so sweet on his body making his head spin. She started tugging at his pants while her lips were still on his skin. He did most of the work, but he didn't care, he just needed to be freed of his restricting clothes.

Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock and gently pumped him.

Chris sighed into her ear, "wanna cum on my tongue or my cock bunny?"

"Your cock daddy! Bunny needs your cream inside of her," she whined.

He thought about fucking her the entire drive; his mind thinking of all the things they could do alone, but he never thought he be blessed with this.

"My little bunny wants my cock? You want to get on all fours and show me how dripping you are?"

Y/n nodded her head, eyes wide with lust and her bottom lip slightly poking out.

"Good girl. Show daddy just how pretty you are."

She moved from his arms and laid her head against the bed as her ass stuck in the air. Chris got off the bed and stood against the very edge. His strong hands laid gently against her ass and he pulled her puffy lips apart with his fingers.

"Fuck girl," he groaned, unable to contain the desire he felt," you're dripping. You're dripping for daddy, aren't you? I thought you were a good little bunny, but only slutty bunnies get this wet."

Her body tensed when his left thumb dragged against her clit. It was swollen and so sensitive to his touch.

Chris's cock was hard and ready to be inside of her warm silk. He had brought the condoms that felt like nothing along with him; two boxes since they were going to be together for six more days.

She heard him tearing something up, but she looked back at him and reached up at him.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" He furrowed his brow but still held the half ripped condom wrapper in his hand.

"No condom daddy. I want to feel all of you."

He groaned and he felt his cock become impossibly harder. They had gone back to condoms because Y/n said stopped taking her birth control when she stopped speaking to him, believing that they were possibly going to stop this relationship. She also said she was going to start again, but he just could not remember if she said her doctors appointment was happening this month or next month.

"Are you on the pill?" His tone had a hint of excitement to it, but ultimately he was concerned; she was always strict about protection.

"I don't know," she said feigning innocence, batting her lashes at him and wiggling her hips in anticipation for his cock. This little character she decided to adapt was driving him crazy.

"Don't lie to me girl," he gripped her arm and she whimpered. His rough handling of her had made her even wetter.

"I'm not! I really don't know daddy!"

She knew, and he knows that she does, but he was too weak by the sight of her bent over in her little bunny ears with her wet cunt exposed to him. Her ass began to sway from side to side, calling him to come closer. But what she wanted him to made him think to himself: 'is she fucking crazy?'

"I need you so bad daddy. Please ruin your little bunny," her voice was sweet as candy.

Chris always wanted her but something about this unlocked a deep hunger inside of him. The risk of this made his heart race and sweat form on his skin, but he wanted this just as bad as she did.

"Baby," he placed a hand around his cock to help guide it inside of her, "I'm gonna ruin this pretty fucking body of yours."

He fully sheathed himself inside of her and Y/n sighed with tenderness. The small touch of his hand on her lower back felt so incredibly intimate and she was grateful that he convinced her to come on this trip.

"You feel so fucking good girl," he pulled out just a few inches only to push back in, "I'm going to fill you up. Is that what you want, pretty baby?"

Y/n is unsure what is more taunting: the tone of his voice or his increasing pace. Both of his hands now grabbed her hips and she swooned over how large they felt holding her. He dragged her back onto his cock until he was nearly pounding her. Each thrust was ruining her softly.

His thrust became more wild as he felt her walls grip his entire length. She felt so warm and wet around him. He missed being bare inside of her, feeling her entirety from the inside.

Soon her little bunny ears were falling off of her head as he fucked her hard. There was something so intoxicating about ruining everything that's so perfect about her. He loved that she gave him permission to do so too.

"Look at me," he said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her arm and forced it against her back. Y/n twisted her upper half to look up at him. She placed her hand on top of his for a glimmer of intimacy in this moment of nasty brutal fucking.

"I'm gonna pump you full of me, bunny. Good girls get all my cum."

Every time he slid home inside of her, stretching her completely, she cried out louder. Her thighs trembled and shook with each thrust into her. He was fucking so hard it was almost mindblowing. She always teased him for being an "old man" but he was proving that his age didn't hinder him from pounding into her.

He was getting closer and closer to slipping over the edge. She just feels so warm and tight around him, her contracting walls inviting him to cum inside of her. He loved being able to see her face as she hit every spot inside of her that made her toes curl.

"I feel that pussy tightening up," he spoke breathlessly. He tried to concentrate on his words but her wet cunt rendered him speechless. "Cum for me bunny."

Y/n began to meet his thrust. Lust bloomed in her stomach when she imagined feeling him empty inside of her. They were so incredibly close and if they kept this up they could cum together.

"Give it to me daddy" she whispered, staring back at his face, "please cum inside of me...I've been such a good girl...I need it so bad."

Chris's thrust got sloppy as the muscles in his lower abdomen began to spasm. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Y/n started cumming around his cock and her pussy tightening up hugged his cock and milked him. "Fuck!" He grunted loudly as he fucked the both of them through their orgasms.

Despite her body being too hypersensitive to take anymore, she whimpered when he pulled out of her.

"Keep that ass up in the air."

Chris grabbed her ass cheeks to spread her open. "Push it out for me bunny." His cum came seeping out of her hole and slid through her folds. He spread it around her sex with two fingers before pushing it back into her hole. She gasped when she felt him slide back into her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, still hungry for more. He wanted to fuck her again, but he was too tired to go again.

"You're going to wear me out girl," he joked, laying next to her on the bed. She looked just as tired as him but that look in her eye indicated that she was completely satisfied.

"It's been a long time since you've fucked me like that. I think I should wear that costume more often."

He placed his palm against her face and she leaned into like she always did. She closed her eyes and felt lulled by the sound of his now steady breathing. This moment together felt like it could last a lifetime. Y/n wishes that they could just stay here forever instead of a week. If she never had to think about an empty promise ever again, she'd be content for the rest of her days.

#chris evans x reader #senator!chris #senator!chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x y/n #senator!chris evans #smut #tdik series #fic #chris evans

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julemmaes · 3 years

Note

ahem... cassian taking nesta to that bookstore (fluff, don’t try making shit sad aight?)

Our First Non-Date

SURPRISE I GUESS!!

Nessian Archeron x Cassian

You can find the first part here.

A/N: this month has been really nice on me. I finally feel better, not crying every day for literally nothing and I wanna dedicate this to my fren Sim (@perseusannabeth) cause homegirl just finished the offcampus series and she's grieving. I know she is. So yep. Take some Nessian fluff

And Nina, I had to add some angsty parts, but they're not Irene Angst Level, okay?

Word count: 6,833

When Cassian had called her back the night after their outing with Amren and Varian, she'd stared at the phone for a full minute until it had stopped ringing and she could go back to reading the article on poisonous plants that Elain had sent her.

It hadn't even been five minutes before the words had been obscured from the call screen again and the name "Cassian Navarro" appeared.

When she had ignored the call for the second time as well, he had decided to change tactics.

Hi Nes, I was thinking about when you'd be free to go to the library. I need a couple of manuals because I'm building a little gazebo in Rhys and Feyre's garden and your sister is putting a lot of pressure on me, so I was wondering if you had the day off tomorrow.

Nesta was stunned at the amount of useless information he had given her, but managed to reply with a simple, Working tomorrow, day off on Wednesday. Sending you the address later.

She certainly hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to get up that day, her will to live must have been hiding somewhere under her bed and Nesta didn't know if it was directly related to their going out or just her stupid brain not being able to connect to real life.

The only other worst thing she'd been able to think of at that moment was having to explain to Cassian what was going on, so, pulled out of bed by the future embarrassment they'd feel in such a situation, she'd managed to dress, wash and style her hair so that she had a braid crowning her head.

She hadn't put too much effort into deciding what to wear, after all, it wasn't a date and Cassian had seen her many times before in far more outrageous and scruffy clothes than the comfortable black jeans and grey jumper she was wearing right now.

The silence had made her uncomfortable at first, only because Cassian seemed to be really stressed - about what, she certainly wouldn't ask - but after about ten minutes, he'd turned on the radio and popped a CD into the player and the melody of a Verve song had filled the cabin.

She'd started humming under her breath and he'd looked at her with a faint smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling. She hadn't mulled over that look too much, but she'd started eyeing him more closely and noticed the way he narrowed his eyes at every street sign and how he ran a hand over his face every time a strand of hair landed in front of his eyes.

When Cassian had to blow the hair out of his face for the millionth time, Nesta pulled a rubber band off her wrist and handed it to him abruptly.

Cassian looked surprised, but took it almost immediately, brushing her fingers. Nesta immediately withdrew her hand, feeling how warm and calloused his were.

"Thanks, my hair is killing me today," he finally spoke.

Nesta continued to look ahead, noticing that they were about to enter the highway. "Well, it wasn't very wise of you not to tie it up before you got in the car. I never drive with my hair down."

He nodded slowly, still with the band clutched between his fingers. And then, suddenly he let go of the steering wheel, "Hold that for me for a second." and Nesta's eyes went wide, launching herself at him to grab it and keep the car in their lane.

"Are you nuts?" she almost shrieked, keeping her gaze fixed on the road and feeling every nerve ending vibrate with anger.

"Relax." he said in a calm tone, shifting her hands and gently pushing her back into her seat one more time. "It wasn't even five seconds."

Nesta huffed out a laugh that lacked amusement, "You do something like that again without warning me first and I'm getting out of the car."

Cassian looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "A bit dramatic, but alright."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly and resting it on her hand propped against the window.

That awkward silence fell again and Nesta couldn't figure out what the problem was. She hadn't felt any kind of unease three days before, but after all, they'd been with friends and busy walking, not stuck in a car for two hours with no chance of walking away or splitting up.

And in that moment, the reality of their situation overwhelmed her.

She forced herself to steady her breathing, opening the window slightly so that more air could get in. She forced herself to think about all the things she would see today at the library and how beautiful and spectacular it had looked from mere pictures. She wasn't going to let her twisted mind stop her from having fun with someone who was desperately trying to be her friend.

She took a deep breath and a surprising calm enveloped her. She looked to her left to see if Cassian had noticed that temporal change in her behaviour, but it seemed to her that he was just as fidgety.

She was about to ask him if he was okay, because the knee that kept bouncing and the fingers opening and closing on the steering wheel were obvious nervous tics, when he did the eye thing again, this time leaning forward over the dashboard as well, and the sharp turn he took to the right caused her to shift in her seat so much that she bumped her shoulder against his.

Cassian grimaced, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What's wrong?" she asked, readjusting in her seat.

"Sorry?"

"What's the matter? With your eyes, I mean."

"Oh." he seemed surprised by the question, almost as if he hadn't realised she'd been observing him for the last twenty minutes. He cast her a curious glance immediately returning to the road. "I wear glasses when I drive, but I couldn't find them this morning and these contacts are the wrong shade and I can't see very well."

Nesta nodded thoughtfully, "Where do you normally keep them?"

"In the glove box. But I already checked," he replied, rolling his shoulders. Another nervous tic.

Nesta had to suppress a smile. There was no way he could be so worked up just because they were talking. She looked down at the phone in her hand to check the time, and a flash of light momentarily dazzled her. She blinked a couple of times and then scoffed, "Found them."

She reached a hand towards the hatch compartment and pulled out a pair of very plain black glasses, handing them to him. Cassian seemed to finally relax since she'd gotten into the car.

"Thank fuck." then he pulled into a lay-by and without turning off the car, slipped two fingers in his eye, removing one contact and then the other, leaving Nesta stunned. He put the glasses on his nose and flashed her a smile that went from ear to ear. And Nesta was stunned for other reasons.

She couldn't deny that Cassian was an attractive man. She wasn't stupid or blind, but the man next to her should have come with a warning sign or a bell.

Attention, hot stuff coming your way.

Nesta forgot the comment she had wanted to make about how antigenic and risky it had been to remove his contacts without first cleaning his hands and in such a dirty environment.

His hair tied back in a messy bun, with the hint of a beard he was letting grow, and now his glasses on, Cassian looked like a model on the cover of a newspaper about sexy carpenters. The short-sleeved black shirt he wore that pulled on his huge biceps every time he moved in the slightest was just one more point to add to the list of things that made him appealing.

"So," he began, getting back on the road, "what's your favourite colour?"

Nesta snorted, "Are you serious?"

Cassian seemed to blanch, "What?"

"Have you ever been out with a girl?" she asked him sarcastically, knowing full well what the answer would be.

He clenched his jaw so hard that a muscle popped out on his face, "Only on dates."

"And this isn't a date." pointed out Nesta, holding back a laugh at how tortured he sounded.

"It's not."

Nesta touched the tip of her nose, thoughtful, "Shouldn't this be easier for you then?"

Cassian released a breath through his nose, "I'm under a lot of pressure right now."

"Yeah?" she asked, looking away and smiling.

"Yeah, and stop looking like you're enjoying it." he retorted.

She feigned innocence, "Enjoying what?"

"My pain." he sheeted.

Nesta laughed, unable to contain herself any longer and when he glared at her, she covered her mouth with one hand, laughing harder. Only when he snapped his fingers against the steering wheel did she stop, laying a hand on his arm, just for a few seconds, "I'm so sorry." she wheezed, "I just don't understand. When you're hanging out with my sisters or Amren, or Mor, I don't know, you don't seem to be in this much discomfort."

Cassian sighed again and Nesta chuckled one last time, stopping when he smiled slightly. "I'm just trying not to make you uncomfortable. You accepted I take you on this non-date, and I'm doing my best not to flirt badly with you every chance I get." he confessed, nodding slowly, as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing and not wasting their time.

Nesta was genuinely surprised at his answer and decided to offer him an olive branch.

"My favourite colour is blue."

"Nice." he smiled, showing a hint of a dimple, "Mine is red."

"It's too bright of a colour," she said lightheartedly.

Cassian chuckled, "I'm pretty sure it reflects my peppy personality."

Nesta nodded, "I read an article once about how a person's favourite colour says a lot about the person themselves," she said annoyed, "It sounded like one of those quizzes you find in gossip magazines, like it was written by a third grader. I hate those things, like horoscopes."

He grunted, "God, Mor's obsessed with horoscopes..."

The conversation continued without any more awkward silences for the remainder of the ride, and when Cassian turned onto a bumpy road, Nesta knew they were close. Of course, even if she hadn't looked at the directions from her house to the place, the myriad cars parked along the road would have been an indication.

They parked in the first vacant spot they could find and as soon as Nesta was out of the car, an icy gust of wind hit her face, making her shiver with cold. She looked over the bonnet at Cassian and found him staring at her with a half smile on his face. He'd left his glasses in the car and had let his hair down again, her hair band on his wrist, and he looked even prettier than before.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked her, with a conflicted look on his face, as if he didn't want to. Nesta narrowed her brows and he hurried to add, "There's no hidden agenda to my offer, just a friend lending a jacket to another friend."

Nesta watched him for a moment, trying to really understand his intentions, but then remembered reading in one of the reviews that the library was heated inside and shook her head.

Cassian gave a small nod of assent and then pointed down the street, "Shall we?"

From where they had parked to the library it would have been about a ten minute walk and Nesta couldn't help but notice the way Cassian kept his distance between them as if he was afraid she would get scared and run away.

He was back to fidgeting nervously with his fingers and when he realised she was looking at him, he put them in his pockets, smiling tensely at her. He took a deep breath and then said, "So, what do you know about this library?"

Nesta looked ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of the building, but the foliage of the trees was still too thick and they were still too far away for it to see anything. She brought her hands to her stomach, crossing her fingers, "I actually did a bit of research before I came. Did you know that the Peace Treaty between Prythian and Hybern of 1864 was signed here?" she asked in an excited voice.

Cassian smiled at her so naturally that she felt herself blush. He had an expression she couldn't decipher, but Nesta had never been good at cracking people in general, so she didn't venture to continue until he said, "Tell me more."

And Nesta launched into a detailed description of the events that had taken place inside the building, which only a hundred years before had become a bookstore. Only one wing of the building had been furnished in such a way as to become a real shop, the rest had been set up to be visited as a museum, one of the oldest libraries. She talked about the architecture and how it was obvious that the palace had been built long before it became an important meeting place for scholars and researchers.

"And in 1932 a fire destroyed the science wing, burning more than a hundred textbooks." Nesta sighed, thinking how devastating that loss had been. She lit up with happiness when she remembered what happened next. "But luckily, one of the most important literary clubs in the city got together and they managed to recover a small portion of the books. It took them years to rewrite every manual, but they got help from one of the local researchers, a certain Mr. Hawthorn, I can't remember the name or details of the research, only that he's mentioned often in the article I read."

When she paused to catch her breath, Nesta realised with immense horror what had just happened. Cassian had not spoken a word after asking her if she knew anything about the place and she had monopolised the conversation without even acknowledging him once. She felt herself flare up and knew in that moment that any hope they had of becoming real friends was gone.

Sometimes she would get lost in thought and ramble on about the things she was passionate about. Quite often people had stopped her, letting her know they weren't interested in the subject, but Cassian had never interrupted her and she was afraid to look at him, convinced she would only find boredom and disgust on his face.

That was why, when he spoke, she was struck dumb.

"I'm impressed." he breathed, chuckling immediately afterwards.

Nesta pushed herself to look at him and he stood admiring her with his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't find the words. She felt her heart clench in her chest so tightly that she didn't know if she could survive the pain. Who knows how many times he'd tried to stop her and she'd gone on and on about windows and arches and treaties of peace.

But when she got a better look at him, stopping in front of him, Cassian looked... happy.

He let out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, and Nesta was distracted for a moment by the sway of his arms before she was brought violently back down to earth when he said, "You surprise me more and more every time, Nesta."

And the way he said her name - Ne-sta - made her toes curl.

"Why?" she managed to throw out in a weak voice.

Cassian laughed again, raising his eyebrows so high they ended under the hair on his forehead, locking his eyes to hers. "I have a degree in history and my final thesis happened to be on this very library." Nesta felt the ground open up beneath her feet and hoped it swallowed her alive. "I came out of university with top marks and various accolades for finishing my studies on time and you, dreadful creature that you are, have just taught me at least three new things about this place."

His gaze was so intense that Nesta had to lower her head to hide the satisfied and surprised smirk that popped up on her lips.

"You're amazing." huffed Cassian, "Perfect in every way."

She shrugged.

"Although," he clicked his tongue against his palate, "You made a mistake."

Nesta looked up at him, frowning, "Oh, yeah?"

Cassian nodded, smirking fiercely, "Why don't you turn around and admire the palace, and once we're inside, I'll explain what it is?"

She must have been so lost in her chatter that she hadn't noticed that they had arrived in the large entrance forecourt, because when she turned, her back to Cassian, the building stood among the forest trees, as imposing and splendid as ever. The photos had not done it justice in the slightest and Nesta was left speechless.

Living in a country with a history going back millennia, it wasn't hard to stumble upon historic streets with old buildings and monuments, but this was completely different.

She was still admiring the way the stone around the windows had been carved to look like trees trying to get into the building when she felt something settle on the small of her back. A hand.

Nesta stiffened slightly, before closing her eyes and relaxing.

Cassian must have noticed her discomfort because a moment later his hand was no longer touching her.

They entered the museum part of the building in silence and Nesta paid the entrance fees, reminding him of the tea he'd offered her last Sunday and Cassian hadn't been able to argue with that.

They had just passed the doors to the first room, the smallest in the entire palace, when he leaned towards her, to the point of touching her ear with his lips.

The fact that he was whispering as if they had been in a sacred place did things to her little icy heart, "Mr. Hawthorn was not a man."

Shocked by that information, Nesta's head snapped in his direction and she realised too late that she had miscalculated the space.

Her lips brushed against his cheek, the corner of his lips, before Cassian reacted so quickly he startled her, but avoiding them both an involuntary first kiss. His sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and he reached out his hands towards her, straightening as he held on to her shoulders.

Both of them were holding their breath.

Cassian cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to the wall of books, but returning to look at her soon after, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, you just surprised me," she said when she had recovered. "I must have read the article wrong."

He was still watching her and shook his head, "Oh no, I don't think it's that. They only found out a few months ago that it was Georgina and not George Hawthorn. They found letters in the house of what was thought to be Hawthorn's wife. Some people think they were just friends, but anyone who has read the letters they exchanged knows full well that they were lovers. Anyone who says otherwise is either homophobic or stupid."

Nesta realised that she could have listened to this for hours on end. And so it was.

The visit continued relatively quietly, Cassian explaining every detail to her, expanding on things she already knew and when he forgot something, she would step in and have her say, commenting on every little aspect.

She'd noticed how Cassian hadn't tried to touch her anymore and how whenever someone was about to bump into her, he'd vocally warn her instead of wrapping an arm around her shoulders to move her out of their way like he had on Sunday.

The visit to the museum lasted less than expected unfortunately, because Nesta hadn't had this much fun in too long. It was becoming easier to smile at him or tease him when he said dumb things and even he seemed to finally be more at ease when he had to make jokes that smacked of him.

When they finally got to the shop, Nesta couldn't stand on her feet anymore, she just wanted to buy all the books she saw and go home and arrange them on her shelves.

"Which section do you want to see first?" she asked him, even though she had started hopping impatiently about the place.

Cassian gave her a smug look, "Why don't you go wherever you want and I'll look for the manuals for the gazebo in the meantime? That way you don't waste time keeping up with me. I'll be right there."

Nesta let out an excited squeal and ran off, hearing only the echo of laughter that shook Cassian from head to toe.

***

As Cassian flipped through the various books to find a picture of a gazebo that looked similar to the one Feyre had requested, he kept casting glances at Nesta.

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed book after book without even reading the synopses. She was in the romance novels section, from what he could see from where he stood, but soon ended up in the classics, where she grabbed just as many books. She moved to the mystery books section, this time stopping to read the plots and putting most of them back on the shelves.

Then, surprising Cassian, she walked over to where the historical novels were and turned to face him. He bent his head to the side, raising an eyebrow to ask her what she was doing there. Nesta seemed at a loss, trying to move all the books from one arm to the other to point him to join her, but Cassian was already halfway there and when she looked back up at him and found him standing in front of her, she gave him a bright smile.

"Hello." she exclaimed.

Cassian's breath caught for a second before he too sighed a greeting.

"I was thinking," Nesta began, running her eyes over the titles in front of them, "that you could recommend something about..." she wiggled her fingers as much as she could, trying to point to the shelf, and Cassian leaned forward, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Here," he removed the first stack of books from her arms and she sagged a little, giving him a thankful look. "I can go get a bag so you can put them all in there and you don't have to carry them like this," he said taking all the books and having her help him arrange them so they wouldn't fall out.

He smiled at her over all the books, looking down at her and she smiled back just as happily.

Hell, if she looked at him like that every time he took her to a bookstore he should do it more often.

He had just turned to go towards the entrance, where he had seen special bags for carrying books, but Nesta stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Wait!" she exclaimed almost impishly.

Cassian turned his head, genuinely worried that something had happened to her in the mere seconds he had been shot. He must have moved too fast, because one of the smaller classics flew off the top of the stack and landed right in her face.

Nesta groaned at the impact and brought her hands to her face, rubbing her forehead where it hurt.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" he asked with wide eyes. And then Nesta laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she stared at him and he visibly relaxed. "Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw a book at you."

She waved a hand in mid-air, to let him know it was nothing, and bent down to pick up what he realised was A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Of course Nesta was reading feminist classics.

She turned back to the books as if nothing had happened and Cassian had the urge to look for a list of all the bookstores in the world to take her to if it meant having her in such a good mood by his side, it didn't matter if she would never agree to go on a real date with him, he realised. As long as he could see her smile like that, he didn't need anything else.

"So, I was saying, before you battered me with a book-" she cast an amused glance over one shoulder at him.

He frowned, muttering, "I said sorry."

Nesta ignored him, "What do you recommend?"

Cassian blinked.

"You said you read historical novels right?" she asked, looking for confirmation, "You could recommend your favourites. But not the English or Russian classics. Or French ones. Chances are I've already read those."

Cassian was stunned. Nesta wanted advice on books. From him.

They were silent for too long as she turned around impatiently, "You lied?"

He looked surprised, "When?"

"When you said you were reading. Were you just doing it to impress me or were you serious?" she asked and maybe Cassian imagined it, but she looked disappointed.

He was quick to reply, "The Black Coat, by Neamat Imam. It's pretty recent, but set in the 1970s in Bangladesh. It's about a man who needs help and seeks it from a journalist he asks for work and one of the main themes is the famine that hit the country after it became independent. It's not my absolute favourite, but it certainly gives you something to think about."

Nesta nodded, searching through the titles and finding it almost immediately, "Anything else?"

Cassian felt his neck heat up and coughed a little before resuming speaking. "The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson. Set in the tenth century, it's about a Viking who is called Red because of his hair and focuses on the European political outlook in the late Viking Age. Again, it's not as good as the historical classics, but it's nice and shows a way of life that we're definitely not used to. It's different."

After looking for a few minutes, Nesta gave up reading and turned to him, crossing her arms. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, "What's your favourite book?"

Cassian shrugged, settling the books against his chest, "I think at the moment it's The King Must Die by Mary Renault. But I change my mind every month when I find something more interesting or captivating."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I'll take that one then."

And Cassian wished he could change the title immediately because... what if she didn't like it? Or if she thought it was a stupid book? What would she think of him then?

But Nesta had already found a copy a few shelves down and there was no turning back.

He could counterattack, though, "What about yours? You're not going to give me any advice on feminist classics or blatantly trashy romance novels?"

Nesta opened her mouth wide, looking outraged as she placed the latest addition on the pile, settling the book under her chin, "How can you say they're trashy if you don't even know what they're about?"

Cassian chuckled, "On the cover of You Came," he said as he gave her a sly look, "there's something called a 'spicymeter'. How am I supposed to take you seriously?"

Nesta blushed, "I read erotic novels, so what? I have to keep myself busy in my spare time somehow."

And then he challenged her, "Get me the hottest book you've ever read," he said in a joking tone, "I'll go get the bag in the meantime."

She had already left for the section when he had an idea that would surely doom him depending on how Nesta would react.

He walked up to the cashier's desk, making sure she didn't notice, and begging the clerk behind the counter to be quick, paid for all her books, gently placing them back in the bags.

When he reached her again, she seemed not to have noticed anything.

"'So, what did you get me? Ride Me? Fucked You Good? Last Night I Gave You A Thousand Orgasms?" he teased her with an annoyed grin on his lips.

Nesta gave him a fiery glance before noticing the bags, quite different from those you put the things you wanna buy in, and closed her mouth tightly. She frowned and looked at them for so long before speaking that Cassian began to feel self-conscious.

"You paid for my books?" she whispered, looking at him.

He nodded.

"It's not a date, Cassian," she reminded him for the umpteenth time.

"I know, but-"

"So why would you pay for things that are mine?"

He couldn't read her. She wasn't hinting at anything.

She didn't look angry but she didn't look impressed or grateful either.

Cassian placed the bags on the ground between them and Nesta followed his every movement with her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "My adoptive family is filthy rich. I have a trust fund that I never get to spend on things I really want to do, the only way I get to use it is by giving gifts to my friends, so just accept these as my first gift - friend to friend - and call it a day."

Nesta continued to be impassive as she kept her eyes fixed on the books.

Perhaps he had gone too far. After all, she had taken more than a hundred and fifty euros worth of stuff, but he really didn't mind.

He was about to apologise, tell her she could give the money back if it made her feel better. Cassian would find a way to spend it back on her at other times anyway.

Then she raised her head, handing him two books with hilarious covers to say the least, "These two have storylines full of plot twists. You won't be able to put them down, but don't expect big epic battles or Viking warriors. It's just two college kids trying to survive in the modern world while finding solace in each other."

He didn't even have time to thank her that she was already across the room and waiting in line so she could pay them.

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"I guess you'll be paying for these two," he said as he caught up with her.

Nesta didn't even look at him, pulling out her wallet, "A gift from a friend to a friend."

As they walked back to the car, Cassian offered to carry the bags, but she didn't want to hear one more word so they had managed to compromise and had split the load equally.

They'd been on the road for about thirty minutes now and Nesta had gone through every book he'd bought her, talking about all the previous works by the authors she was holding in her hand at the moment.

Cassian could have died like that. Happy, relaxed, listening to the plots of those dirty books with no moral lessons to teach the reader, just pure entertainment.

He wondered at that moment if he would make it through the first few chapters of the books she had offered him and let out a heavy breath through his nose as he turned right towards the coast.

Nesta looked at him wide-eyed, stopping her rant about the headmaster's son getting the occasional model student to fall in love with him. She brought a hand to her mouth, "Oh dear, sorry, I'm boring you. I'm sorry."

He gave her a confused look ready to tell her she didn't have to apologise, but she continued.

"Sometimes I do and I don't even realize it. And I realize they're not challenging plots where you have to apply some hidden lobe of the brain to understand them, but they distract me from everyday problems, you know? It's fun to be able to unplug a few hours after I get home from work and-"

"Jesus, Nesta, stop!" he laughed, placing a hand on her thigh. She sighed. "You don't have to apologise. Not when you're so excited about something." he looked at her slyly, offering her a reassuring smile, "In fact, I'm glad you're talking so much today. Normally I have to pull the words out of your mouth."

She blushed slightly and then grew sullen soon after, sitting up straighter, "This isn't the way to Velaris, where are we going?"

Cassian didn't answer.

"You're taking me into the woods aren't you?"

"We literally just came out of a forest."

She ignored him.

"I knew it. You're a serial killer."

"Nes-"

"You're a little dense though. Why would you spend so much on someone if you're going to murder them?"

He decided to ignore her, chuckling, "I'm taking you to the beach."

"Why?" she asked, somewhat unconvinced.

Cassian shrugged, "I wanted to see the sunset."

"You didn't ask."

He sighed, gripping the steering wheel, "Okay," he whispered, then louder, "You want to go to the beach and watch the sunset?"

She nodded in assent and then continued to read the plots aloud.

And Cassian could have sworn he was in heaven.

***

Nesta gathered more sand, making a small ball out of it and placing it on the top of one of the towers she had made so far.

"Where did you learn to make such good sandcastles?" asked Cassian suddenly from behind her, startling her.

She jumped in the air, turning to face him and noticing the satisfied smile on his face for having taken her by surprise.

Nesta didn't answer him immediately, but allowed herself to admire him a bit.

Since they had arrived at the beach, they had taken off their shoes and were now both barefoot and then Cassian had bent down and started to roll his trousers around his ankles, offering to do it to her jeans as well, but Nesta had refused. She had sat down, looking at the sea for a while, while he walked along the shore and collected stones and shells.

When he had come back to her and shown them to her, asking her to make a sandcastle, she had laughed at first, but faced with his serious expression, she had been unable to do anything but get up and roll up her sleeves, moving to where the sand was a little more workable.

She looked away from that heavenly vision and made another ball, placing it next to the one she had just made. "When I was little my mum never let me do these, she said I'd get too much sun and forced me and Elain to stay under the umbrella all day," she replied truthfully, remembering the cruel bite of jealousy watching the children on the shore.

"And Feyre?"

Cassian had joined her, kneeling beside her and had begun to place the shells so that they served as windows to the towers.

Nesta sighed, "Feyre was still too little when Mini Me wanted to build sandcastles, but as soon as I became 'too old to play like a kid'," she gave him a knowing look, mimicking her mother's voice, "and Feyre started to figure out she was an actual being, Mama let her do whatever she wanted. Even stand in the sun for hours on end." she shrugged. "Whether it was out of indifference or love, I never understood."

Cassian had been silent the whole time and now he watched her, hands on his thighs as he waited for her to give him more. For her to tell him another little piece of her soul.

So she offered him a forced smile, "So to answer your question, it's all pent-up creativity."

"Well, you're very good at it," he granted her. "I can imagine what you could have done if your mother hadn't been so strict."

Well, yeah.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?"

"Did you go to the beach a lot?"

Cassian smiled weakly, getting up and heading towards the water to collect more shells. He nodded a couple of times and then said, "My mum and I loved coming to the beach and she loved making castles. And she always put so many 'windows' on the towers-"

Nesta turned to look at their work, realising how many shells he had placed on the piles of sand. She smiled softly, covering her eyes from the sun and watching him walk towards her.

"We always came when she was free from work."

A charged silence settled between them until Cassian chuckled, drawing her attention, "What?"

"You said this wasn't a date. And that we're just friends. Right?"

Shifting her gaze to him, she noticed how he kept his hands hidden behind his back and the mischievous glint in his eyes didn't reassure her at all. Slowly she stood up, nodding.

"So, I must treat you as I would treat my friends. Correct?"

"Cassian, I swear to god that-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence that something wet and sticky landed in her face with a resounding splash, making her jump back.

She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when a strong smell of stale water and seaweed flooded her nostrils.

When she opened her eyes again, wiping the seaweed from her face, Cassian was doubled over in laughter.

She didn't even give him time to get up when she started to run towards him - to do what, she had no idea - but he started to run away too and soon they were chasing each other all around the beach, not noticing the sweet looks they were getting from the people around them.

At that moment, Nesta was running so fast that she could feel the wind in her hair and the smell and sound of the sea, together with the laughter of the man who was chasing her, mixed with her own and the continuous tapping of her feet on the sand, made her feel alive.

She felt Cassian come closer every few metres until two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled up and spun around in the air.

A surprised yelp escaped her as Cassian laughed in her ear, "Gotcha!"

It wasn't until he stopped spinning with her in his arms that they realised the position they were in and immediately broke away, laughing embarrassed.

Nesta turned to face him, her face red from running and her breathing laboured. He was in no better condition. His hair was pointing in all directions and his sculpted chest was rising and falling with haste under the black fabric of his shirt.

He looked away first, scratching the back of his neck and fixing his eyes on the sunset, and offered her his arm as they returned to where they had left theirs things unattended.

Nesta shook her head, laughing one last time and started to run, " Last to reach the castle is stupid!"

Cassian burst out laughing, but he caught up to her in the blink of an eye and they both knew that she had doomed herself to lose. That's why, when he fell tripping over his feet, Nesta knew he had done it on purpose.

She helped him up and they sat back as in silence they watched the sun go down, disappearing past the horizon and the blending lights of the sky created a breathtaking spectacle.

Nesta couldn't have noticed, too busy admiring the clouds, but Cassian had been watching her the whole time, trying to understand how something as sombre and secretive as her could look so bright just by being.

The journey back was silent, but this time the silence was not awkward. They both welcomed it with open arms, a new awareness that there was no need for it to be filled with chatter and that gave Nesta the opportunity to close her eyes for a moment and doze off.

When the car stopped outside her flat, Nesta was surprised to find that she didn't want to get out.

She turned to Cassian after she had gathered her things and nodded, "I had fun today."

He gave her a genuine smile, looking surprised, "Me too."

And then she permanently shocked him, adding, "I'm not working on Saturday, we could do it again. Changing location."

He blinked once. Twice. Then he nodded, "Sure."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more, so Nesta waved goodbye to him and then got out, not waiting for an answer from him.

Cassian stood motionless in the car park of her flat for another half hour, trying to figure out what had just happened, and when the reality of things finally dawned on him, he smiled, "Fuck yeah."

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@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @hellasblessed @nahthanks @archeron-queens-blog @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @dealingdifferentdevils @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #nessian fic #nessian fluff #fluff

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sarcasmandships · 3 years

Text

honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

“where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

“bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #jennifer jareau #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #David Rossi #Penelope garcia #the bau #angst #hurt and comfort #spencer reid imagine hurt

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down

💀💀💀

It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.

Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.

Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.

“Is that man coming back?” she asked.

You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”

“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”

You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.

“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.

“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.

“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”

“Nan,” you gasped at her language.

“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.

“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”

“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”

“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”

“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.

“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.

“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”

“And what happened to him?”

It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.

“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”

You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.

“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.

“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”

You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.

💀

Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.

He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.

“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”

“I’m working,” you said quietly.

“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.

“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.

“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”

You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.

The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.

“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”

“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.

“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”

He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.

“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”

You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.

“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”

You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.

“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”

You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.

“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”

You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.

You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.

He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.

“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”

He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.

“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.

“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.

You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?

“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”

You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.

“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”

You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.

You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.

You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.

“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”

You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.

“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.

You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.

“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”

You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.

“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.

“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”

“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.

You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.

You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.

“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”

You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.

“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”

You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.

He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.

He caught your shoulder and held you down.

“Again,” he ordered.

You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.

“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.

He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt.

“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.

You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.

He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.

“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.

You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.

“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”

“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”

His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder.

He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.

He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder.

Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.

He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.

“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”

He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.

“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”

166 notes · View notes

thestarrynightslover · 3 years

Text

It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse.

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that, maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you.

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you.

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now.

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode.

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior.

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing.

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving.

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed.

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well.

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

397 notes · View notes

avatarmerida · 3 years

Text

Walking Home

This is inspired by @buggachat’s Bakery AU. I hope this is okay because I love this idea so much and I loved the winery arc. I wrote this assuming Adrien also lives at the bakery, though I don’t know.

——————————————————————————

“Okay no, no first of all they did NOT kick us out because I spilled. But IF did they did then that’s your fault!” Marinette exclaimed as the four of them left the restaurant.

“I didn’t mean that time,” clarified a bubbly Adrien as he ran ahead. “I meant when you kept turning the glasses into microphones and trying to get everyone to sing when they were still pretty full.”

“No! No! No!” she insisted, running up to him and giving him a gently tap on shoulder. “It was because you kept making chicken noises and they were awful!”

“They were amazing.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever heard a chicken,” she said smugly as she attempted to suppress her laughter at the memory. “It was so high pitched.”

“Bawk bawk bawk,” said Adrien quietly. Seeing Marinette suppress more laughter, he kept going and got louder. She couldn’t stand still, the laughter causing her to bend in half unable to catch her breath. Making her laugh was somehow so addicting and so he kept doing the awful chicken noise, getting higher and louder and faster. Passerbys gave them strange looks and rolled their eyes. Alya couldn’t help but smile at the thought that everyone who saw them must assume they were lifelong friends. Maybe even more than that.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize how late it was,” announced Alya, pretending to check her phone. She was fairly certain the two forgot her and Nino were there. “Ugh, I’ve got an interview scheduled for the blog at 8am.”

“Yeah and I’ve got to wake her up otherwise she’ll never get there on time,” added Nino with a laugh, catching on quickly. Adrien and Marinette snapped out of their bubble, seeing suddenly how ridiculous they must seem.

“We should do this again soon though,” said Alya. “All of us,” she added, looking at Adrien.

“Yeah, this was fun,” said Marinette, sneaking a glance at Adrien (though he didn’t notice) before turning back to Alya. “Are you okay to get home?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna grab a taxi,” said Alya. “What about you two? Are you okay? You didn’t switch to water when Nino and I did.”

“That was water? I thought you guys just switched to white wine,” asked Adrien. Nino chuckled and handed Adrien his phone so the two could make plans to hang out later in the week.

While the boys talked, Alya pullled Marinette into a hug to supposedly say goodbye.

“No girl, for real are you okay to get home? We can drop you off,” she whispered.

“No it’s okay you guys live the opposite way and you need to get up early,” whispered Marinette back. “The bakery isn’t that far and It’s not like I’m walking alone.”

“Exactly,” said Alya, pulling away but making sure the boys were too distracted by their conversation to hear theirs. “I know tonight was fun but you didn’t start the day being Adrien’s biggest fan. You’re okay walking home with him?”

“Yes Alya I’m fine,” she hiccuped. “I’m not even that drunk.”

“Marinette!” Adrien called suddenly, very excited. “Can we make pizza at the bakery?!”

“Oh my god pizzaaaaaa!” She exclaimed far too loudly, throwing her hands in the air. “Yes, yes let’s go! Bye Alya!”

She ran ahead and Adrien excitedly and instinctively followed her, the two a collection of giggle and hiccups stumbling between the street lights.

“Text me when you get home!” Alya called after the pair. They were quite a sight. She couldn’t help but smile at the fact that this morning Marinette couldn’t say his name without grimacing and now they were rushing off into the night. She wondered how Marinette would feel about the blonde boy tomorrow.

“Pizza, pizza, pizza!” The two exclaimed as they trudged down the sidewalk.

“Okay I know we have dough and cheese I don’t know if we have any pizza sauce,” said Marinette raking her brain. “Do we want toppings? Because I think we just have sprinkles, maybe we-ahhh!” Suddenly the ground came rushing at her, but before she had time to process what was happening she was stopped inches from the pavement. She looked up and saw Adrien had caught her in the knick of time. His hands were on her waist as if he was dipping her in a some eleaborate dance. The streetlight above him reflected on his golden hair like a halo.

He really was a good model, she couldn’t help but think as she found herself drawn to his light like an innocent moth.

“Sorry,” he said realizing the position they were in. “Force of habit, I guess. I didn’t mean, I mean I-.”

“Don’t apologize,” she breathed, not attempting to remove herself from his grip. “You’ve just got like catlike reflexes.”

“Yeah, I maybe??” He laughed. He couldn’t even explain her own pun to her as he pulled her to her feet. “Hehe, uh sorry if I distracted you again.”

“No, no it’s my own fault, I’m extra clumsy when I’m drunk,” she explained, bashful suddenly for some reason. “I’m a regular public menace. But thanks for not letting me fall on my face.”

He smiled. “Anytime,” he stood up straight and offered her his arm. “To ensure you don’t fall again,” he explained.

The logic of his reasoning negated any objections her former view of him held at the ready. He didn’t have to be kind to her when it was just them, and this must be why she held onto his arm so firmly and allowed herself to be so close as they walked. She suddenly felt guilty for her ulterior motives in inviting him out. The skeptic in her wanted to point out that maybe he was faking being drunk, or was so well versed at deception that alcohol had no affect on his ability to lie. But a larger part of her just wanted to rest her head on his shoulder as he led her home, contently listening to him ramble.

“Okay but why isn’t pizza a pastry?” he continued. “Like a lot of baked goods have cheese, they all have dough. Is it the sauce? But donuts have filling and the tomato is a fruit, I think-?”

“Maybe pizza can be your menu speciality,” she murmured, following the voice that told her to rest her head. “But you can give it a fun name and make it look different so they won’t know it’s pizza until they taste it. You’d think of a good name, you’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” he asked, genuinely surprised and flattered.

“I’m drunk, who knows what I’m saying,” she joked. “I’ll deny it but yes you are funny. I like when you write puns on the specials board.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be a fan of bad puns.”

“I’ve heard worse,” she murmured, her mouth moving faster than her mind. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” he tried, trying to careful in this new territory, but fighting his catlike curiosity . “Are you a secret comedian?”

“No, no but I was in love with a boy who made puns a lot,” she said quietly, almost just to herself. “It seems so silly but now whenever I hear a good one I write it down so I don’t forget. So I can tell it to him. But I’m never gonna see him again. That’s so stupid isn’t it?”

He saw tears forming in her eyes. “I think it’s sweet,” he said. “Is he someone you meet in New York? On your internship?”

She stopped, her mind had brought up another similarly between him and Chat Noir and that was extra confusing right now. But she hadn’t had anyone to talk to about Chat and it felt nice to share something about him aloud. She had to tread carefully though.

“I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk about it,” said Adrien before she could find the words. “It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he continued, gently removing his arm from her. “You’ve already done so much for me, helping me at the bakery, letting me into your home, inviting me out tonight . You’re a very kind person Marinette and I’ve invaded so much of your space already, I shouldn’t be invading your privacy.”

“No, Adrien please it is okay,” she insisted. “I brought it up. And I... I’ve never brought it up to anyone before, to be honest. And it must be because... I like talking to you. Because-.”

“-of the wine?” He offered.

“-because we’re friends,” she finished, looking up at him with soft, truthful eyes.

“I think it is the wine,” he joked, only half certain.

“Here, I’ll prove it,” she said, keeping her purse and rummaging through its contents. Finally she found what she was searching for. “Here,” she said, placing something in his hand.

“What is this?”

“My lucky charm,” she said proudly, as he opened his hand to reveal a simple keychain composed of colorful beads. “I made it during my internship, it helped me when I had deadlines or a creativity block. I take it everywhere.”

“And you’re giving this to me?”

“Well I still plan on needing it and having it close by, so I wouldn’t just entrust it to someone I don’t want in my space would I? It’s probably not as flashy as the friendship bracelets Chloe made you but-.”

She was cut off as Adrien pulled her into a tight embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She hesitated, but returned the gesture. “You’re welcome,” she said as the two stood in the middle of the sidewalk, embracing for probably a little too long. “Adrien, since we’re friends, I think I should be honest with you.”

He pulled back to face her, his face still holding a smile despite her dismal tone. “What is it?”

“Today, when I invited you...” she began, her pride almost too big a pill to swallow. “Well, I had ulterior motives for inviting you.”

“Really?”

“I thought, oh god I’m so embarrassed,” she pushed through. “I though you had ... a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yes,” she buried her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed. “Ugh, and I thought it you got drunk enough you would blurt it out. And that’s so awful of me and I know it’s dishonest, but I promise you it’s not like that anymore. I was paranoid, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m so sorry. really do enjoy spending time with you-.”

“What kind of secret?”

“Huh?” She said, surprised he wasn’t mad. “Oh, i-it doesn’t matter. It was still wrong of me.”

“Well why couldn’t you ask me about it before?”

“I didn’t have any sort of proof,” she admitted. “Only a hunch.”

“Why?” He asked. He wasn’t mad but she couldn’t place his tone. People must have accused him of this before. She knew now he wasn’t his father, he was more than whatever his past held, and he didn’t deserve another faker. She knew he’d ask what she suspected and it would ruin everything but maybe she could make it less awful if she kept apologizing?

“Nothing major, just because of how you acted around me-.”

“I see.”

“-but I know now I was completely wrong,” she quickly went on. “Getting to know you tonight and spending more time with you at the bakery, I know I was wrong.”

“Oh,” was that all he could say? Oh?!

“Because you’re just so nice!” She went on, her drunk brain turning to rambling. “You’re actually a really great guy, and you’re just quiet at first, you’re ... a friend...”

“Just a friend?” He asked, the word holding his attention tight.

“Yes,” she said, hoping he was considering accepting her apology. “And I- oh darn it.” Suddenly, a raindrop fell onto Marinette’s cheek. Then another. Without warning the sky began to pour, and the pair sought shelter. Adrien took off his jacket and placed it over Marinette’s head to attempt and shield her from the rain, a fruitless attempt as the jacket immediately became soaked and heavy and helpful to no one.

As they made their way through the waterfall that claimed the sidewalk, an abandoned umbrella leaning against a building caught Adrien’s eye. He swooped in to grab and quickly opened it over Marinette’s head. “Ugh, I can’t see,” she cried, the rain causing her eye makeup to run and sting her eyes. She wiped it away, only to smudge it and give cover her face with a charcoal color. Adrien laughed.

“Mademoiselle Hamster, you look more like a raccoon now,” he wheezed. Before Marinette could offer a clever response, she saw the rain continued to fall on him as she was safely covered.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” she stated angrily.

“It’s not a very big umbrella,” he said, still laughing.

“Nonsense,” she said, yanking the umbrella handle to spin him in. “I’m not about to let you get sick and stick me with all the work at the bakery.”

But the umbrella was very small. And in order for them both to be covered, they had to stand very close together.

“Fine by me,” breathed Adrien, looking down at Marinette. She stood in front of him, her hands landing instinctively on his chest as if they were slow dancing. She was aware of this, but did not remove them. Her eyes went to the ground, not being about to handle the closeness with eye contact. In one hand Adrien held the umbrella, the other one slowly went to removed a strand of wet hair from her face. A bolt of lighting graced the sky.

“You were right you know,” he said quietly, the rain almost drowning him out.

“About what?”

“About my secret,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought I hid it well, but I guess I made it really obvious.”

“What?” Said Marinette, looking up at him is disbelief, her hands trembled. “No, no you’re still drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. No, no I know now... after everything that happened it can’t be true.”

“Do you... not want it to be true?”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter what I want,” she admitted, bowing her head again. “Either it’s true or it’s not.”

“I promise you, it’s very true,” said Adrien, his voice softer than she had ever heard but somehow insanely familiar. He placed his free hand under her chin and lead her to meet his gaze.

“Wait, what did you think I-.”

“Marinette, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more direct with you,” he began. “But I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again since... you’re so amazing and I- I’m done keeping secrets; I do have feelings for you.”

“W-what kind of feelings?” she asked, a tiny portion of her intoxicated little mind convinced he was angry with her.

Adrien closed his eyes and leaned in close to her and his lips stopped mere inches from her own. Hesitating. Waiting. Silence. She looked at him, no streetlight caught his hair now but the shine remained. The glow was just him. He wasn’t a spy, he wasn’t a traitor, he wasn’t a villain. Her mind ran with things he was not until suddenly she realized what he was. Kind. Handsome. Funny. Charming. She had taken these things for granted before and thought they were lost and locked away forever. It was like they were reincarnated, her heart fluttered in an nearly forgotten familiar way as if to say she had been here before. As if to say this is exactly where she was meant to be.

Lighting crashed in the distance.

She chased the feeling and eliminated the space between them, drawn to him like he was magnetic. She could could blame it on the wine. She could blame it on the rain. She could blame it on the way his eyes were so gentle and vibrant at the same time like a lush green forest she wanted to explore until she was hopelessly lost. But she crashed into him like a she was a tidal wave, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. He stepped back, surprised but pleased and tossed aside the umbrella in favor of having both his arms around her as he eagerly kissed her back. He lifted her off the ground, perhaps a little too overzealous, and the pair found themselves on the ground in the middle of a puddle. Only then did they break apart, like a dream they were rudely awakened from, and Marinette found herself laying on top of him.

Adrien looked at her, eyes wide and curious, awaiting a sign of how she felt. Even now, with her eyeliner smudged and her hair soaking wet, his heart skipped a beat in way it hadn’t done in years. What was she thinking? Should he say something? His mind raced with what to say next, he had imagined this confession thousands of times since he realized his feelings, but none of his scenarios went quite like this. He didn’t want to risk ruining anything, if there was even something to ruin. He played the last minute over and over in his head like a romantic film scene. He smiled a wide smile and if Marintee didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he was purring.

Marinette took that as her signal to lean forward, slower and more graceful than the first attempt and kissed him again. It was less rushed and more gentle, but also more certain. The umbrella was carried away by the wind, the two seemed to have forgotten about the rain or any storms between them.

The next day, Marinette awoke feeling sicker than she had ever felt in her life. Not only did she have a massive hangover, but being stuck in the rain had given her a terrible cold as well. Her body couldn’t decide which unpleasant feeling to focus on so she remained in bed, cursing the world.

“Hey girl,” came Alya’s voice from the doorway. “Heard you weren’t feeling too good.”

“Alya I’m dying,” moaned Marinette.

“Were you so busy dying that you couldn’t text me that you go home safely?” laughed Alya, removing the pillow from her face. “Omigosh you didn’t even wash your face last night. You really were trashed.”

“Ugh I don’t even remember it raining last night, but I woke up soaked,” complained Marinette.

“Wait, you don’t remember it raining?”

“No, after we said goodbye to you and Nino the night it a total blur.”

“Oh, does Adrien remember the rain?”

“I don’t know, we don’t talk,” Marinette reminded her, covering her head with a blanket. “I don’t know what I said to him on the walk home, but my throat is killing me so it feels like I was yelling.

“Wait, you don’t remember anything from the walk home?”

“No,” repeated Marinette. “Why? Did I drunk dial you or something?”

“Uh, no,” said Alya with a mischievous smile. “But when it started to rain I told the cab driver to drive by your place to see if you guys got caught in the rain and I’m so glad I did because I saw something very interesting.”

“What?”

Alya simply handed Marinette her phone and braced herself for the reaction she knew was coming. Marinettte had to do a double take at first. But there was no mistaking this was a picture of her. And Adrien. Kissing.

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed, giving herself a worse headache. “Ouch. Ugh, Alya please tell me this is photoshopped, this is a joke right?”

“Not this time, I am an eyewitness,” assured her friend. “I saw everything.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe he kissed me,”

“Well you shouldn’t because if you go back a little bit you see it’s clear as day who kissed whom,”

“What?” But it was true. She swiped back and forth and there was no arguing that she pulled him in, she reached up, she kissed him. Twice. “Oh no.”

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” said Alya taking back her phone. “If kissing a former model in the rain is the worst thing you’ve done after drinking, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t see why you don’t like him anyway, you two got along so well yesterday.”

“Oh no no no I just thought it was another dream!”panicked Marinette.

“Another?” Teased Alya. “So you often dream about kissing Adrien?”

Only when he’s working with his supervillain father “I’m never drinking again,” vowed Marinette, burying her head in her hands. “Please tell me no one else saw those photos.”

“Just me and Nino, but I’m keeping them for blackmail,” confirmed Alya as she headed for the door. “Or to show at your wedding.”

Marinette threw a pillow at the door, just missing her friend as she took her leave. What had gotten into her? Besides copious amounts of wine, that is. She prayed that Adrien’s memory of last night was even foggier than hers. She wished she had Tikki with her to talk her through this without any judgment but she just had her. And all she could do was panic.

“Hey, are you up?” Came a small voice accompanied by a knock on her door. “I just saw Alya leave and I wanted to check on you if that’s okay.”

It was Adrien. “Um yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess,” she replied. He didn’t come in, she didn’t invite him. He was still wary of her. That must be as good sign, right?

“A headache?” He chuckled knowingly. “I had one too. I made a smoothie and that kind of helped. I can bring you one. Or leave it in the kitchen for you.”

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. Silence stood between them for what felt like hours.

“Listen, about last night,” Adrien said at last. Marinette braced herself for the worst.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say thank you,” he said outside the door. “It meant a lot, you guys inviting me out. I had a lot of fun, well the parts I remember anyway.”

“Do you... remember walking home?”

“Hardly,” he admitted. “Apparently it rained?”

She laughed. “Go figure,” she said. She cousins sent he was right: she did enjoy the parts she remembered. “But um thank you too for helping me get home safely. You’re a good friend.”

The sound of the word made him blush, he was grateful she couldn’t see his face. “Anytime,” he said. “Feel better, I guess I’ll see you later?”

“See ya,” she said, as she heard him walk away from the door and flopped on her bed in relief. Crisis averted.

Adrien made his way down the stairs, Marinette’s keychain in hand. The moments of last night replayed in his head. It was blurry to him as well, but a few moments stood out to him. Mostly, the way she said ‘lucky charm’ and the way her smudged makeup resembled a mask.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous #bakery enemies au #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #ladynoir

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

Unexpected But Accepted

Pair: George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley: he/him.

Summary: Fred and George have been driving you bonkers. You try to get away for five minutes but find out they’re arguing over you. You snap when you see it happen right in front of you and punish Fred for sass. Basically, you fuck George, then suck off Fred.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), poly, dirty talk, bondage, probably took this too far, oops, swears, way too long and probably not good.

Notes: Requested! Hope you enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Your back pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with quick breaths leaving your lips. The small room was quiet and dark, allowing you to hear the pair of rushing footsteps that’d been chasing you for the past 10 minutes come down the hall. You covered your mouth, trying to hide your panting breaths into the skin as the steps came closer and closed your eyes in hopes of not being found in the small broom closet. Suddenly, one of your chasers spoke up, causing you to go rigid against the wall.

“Do you see him?” One spoke up while a sigh was released from the other.

“No. How did he disappear?”

You tried to sink deeper into the darkness without making a peep. Godric, if they found you, you’d never hear the end of it. You just wanted some peace and quiet.

“I don’t understand! Is there a hidden room we haven’t discovered?”

“I highly doubt it, Georgie. Let’s be real.”

“So should we split up?”

“Probably best if we just head to class.” Heavy footsteps trailed down the hallway, voices fading more with each step.

“Since when do you care about grades?”

“I don’t. Come on. We might bump into him on the way.”

You didn’t step out of the broom closet until you were 10,000 percent sure they’d left, allowing you to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Shutting the door behind you, you leaned against it, wincing to yourself when your head smacked against the wood alittle harder than you intended. You didn’t like hiding from them, but you didn’t have much choice.

The two redheads had been acting differently lately and it’s been taking a toll on your mental health lately. You couldn’t have five minutes alone without them almost tearing eachother apart for your attention and, honestly, you just needed a break. Or maybe food. You haven't been able to eat in peace because of the twins antics. Hermione and Harry would bring you food while Ron, the forever charming redhead, laughed at your demise.

You’ve tried talking to them about what’s going on, but they always brush you off and ask if you wanna go do something somewhere and drag you away anyway. It wasn’t that they were being creepy or anything, it was just overwhelming you and you needed some serious (Y/n) Time.

It almost felt like they knew something you didn’t and it was frustrating beyond comprehension. Sure, you and the twins were close but fuck, it was almost like they made a bet to torture or something along those lines. Maybe it was a prank?

What you didn’t know is that you were kinda right. A couple days before this specific one, the twins made a bet after learning two truths that changed a few things within their brotherly bond. Truth one was how George's feelings for you changed from friend to lover. The second truth was how Fred's feelings for you changed in the exact same manner. The bet resolved over you, of course, and how they’d win you. More specifically, whichever twin managed to win your feelings, won the bet and you were the prize.

You looked both ways, checking the hallway to make sure it was empty before abandoning the hiding spot with a feverous sprint. Your footsteps echoed down the empty halls, your robes flapping behind you. You proceeded to multitask. You ran down the intertwining halls while debating on going to class or hiding away in your dorm. In the end, your feet decided for you. Before you knew it, you were sprinting up the moving staircase up to the Fat Lady.

“Cherry top.” You spoke quickly before she even had the chance to open her mouth. You ignored her grumble on how kids used to care about her singing and focused on walking through the empty room. You plopped yourself down on the couch facing gently crackling fire. A quiet sigh left your lips, hands going through your hair. “What changed?” you whispered to yourself.

“You really have no clue?”

The voice made you jump and turn around seeing.. No one? You felt the couch sink further closer to the ground and you were met with another redhead, allowing you to relax back against the plush cushions.

“Godric, Gin, you scared me.” You let out a meek chuckle and ran a hand over your eyes. “What’re you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with The Golden Trio or something?”

“Or something.” She cast a smile in your direction. “I heard what’s going on between you and the two idiots. Figured you could use some help sorting them out.” The youngest Weasley tucked her feet in and turned toward you fully, the smile turned into a grin.

“I’d adore help.”

“I thought so.” She let out a chuckle. “Rumor has it they have a bet going. Lee overheard them arguing over it and who was winning.” Ginny’s grin turned into the classic Weasley Side Smirk. The words rolled around in your head, your nose scrunching in confusion. Arguing? They never argue. You tried to come up with a time where they actually fought and only mock up arguments made themselves clear. “People are saying it’s over a specific absolutely oblivious Gryffindor Quidditch player, others say it’s over who can burn the school down first-” Ginny laughed, shaking her head a little as she spoke.

“Quidditch player? Oh- Angelina, right? Yea, it’s pretty obvious they’ve been pining after her for a while. “ You forced out with a very small and very fake smile across your lips. You knew how the two pranksters looked at her. It only made sense they’d be after her, she was smart, great at the game and a looker. You swallowed hard. You were just the Keeper for Gryffindor, not a chaser or a seeker, just kept to the goals. It didn’t feel as special as the others. “But I don’t see how this involves me.” You could’ve sworn you heard her mumble ‘oblivious’ again, but she spoke up before you could even question it.

“So, you really don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Oh my Godric, you really don’t know?”

“Know what, Gin?”

“I thought they would’ve told you!” She looked down at her fingers, playing with her nail. Her long hair fell around her face like a curtain, no doubt hiding the grin. She was ignoring you on purpose.

“Gin, so help me, I will shatter your knee caps. Tell. Me.” You threatened, giving her a strong glare. Your glares could kill. Students and teachers alike knew your temper was not something to trifle with and made up for 99 percent of your detentions. You’re not one to throw fists first, but you definitely don’t hold your tongue. While the castle got nervous around you and you ralmost famous temper, the Weasleys did not give one flying fuck. They’d tease you until you die because they all knew you had a sweet spot for them.

“I mean, you're their best friend and you don’t know. Damn, that’s so.. Bad, yet just like them, wow.” She moved the hair away from her eyes. “Ok. Listen, the twins don’t fancy Angie, (Y/n). I think you need to consider both sides of the spectrum.” She paused, giving you an expecting look before sighing and going on. “They’re bisexual. Came out last year.”

“Oh, haha. Really funny.” You stood up, moving away from the couch to one of the towering glass windows. Pressing your weight against the brick wall, you gazed out, watching students rush to classes and others just goofing off. Ginny knew of your crush on the two red-heads, but she didn’t have to joke about it like this. “Now isn’t the time for jokes, Gin. “

“I’m serious, (Y/n). Think about it. They’ve been all over you, everyone has noticed.” Ginny walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. She could tell you were gonna be on the fence no matter what the words, so she just sighed and retracted her hand. “I’d never joke about this. It could very well be you the identical idiots are drooling over.”

“They're really bi?” You turned to her, your eyes sparkling with hope.

“Honestly, (Y/n). Would I lie to you?” She snickered patting your back before heading over to the portrait hole. “Really, think about it. It'll make sense with time, i'm sure.” With that, she popped through the hole in the wall. With a final creak of the portrait shutting, you were left alone in silence, rolling her words in your head.

Ok, maybe it did make a small, tiny, miniscule bit of sense, but why didn’t Fred and George tell you? You sighed, your hot breath fogging up the glass. Maybe they didn’t want you to know. Maybe they thought you’d call them freaks or weirdos, but you’d never. You remember when you came out to them as (s/p) and they didn’t judge you at all.

You wanted to scream when you heard the creak of the entrance opening again. For fucks fucking fuck, even without the twins there you couldn’t get alone time. You needed to think, especially with the new info Ginny told you.

“There ya are, (Y/n)! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Your eyes focused on the reflection in the glass pain, a groan leaving your lips at the sight. Of course. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hey.” Your voice was stiff, revealing how you felt deep down. Frustration and irritation. You noted how the redheads both stepped closer to you. One gently pulling you by the hand to sit down in a chair not too far from the window while the other taking the seat across you, shooting you a soft smile.

“Ok. What’s wrong?” Fred spoke, his back slouching in the chair, his arms crossing over his chest. George was standing next to you with a cocked eyebrow, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, we know you (N/n). What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” George ran his hand through your hair before squatting next to your seated form. You could vaguely smell his cologne. You turned to George, missing the glare from Fred.

“I.. Just stressed, is all. Exams coming and not getting enough sleep.” It wasn’t fully a lie, so.

“Are you sure you’re not sick or something?” Fred stood up and walked over, the back of his hand reaching out to press against your forehead. It was halted when a matching pale hand grabbed his wrist.

“Fred, I think if he was sick, he would’ve said something along those lines. It’s just stress.” George’s voice held a barely noticeable amount of venom as his grip tightened ever so slightly on his older brothers wrist. The death glares they exchanged as Fred whipped his hand away from his younger twins grip had you raising an eyebrow in question.

“So you're a doctor now?”

“Can you stop with the attitude? I’m so sick of it!”

“You’re sick of it? I’m sick of you! I was just gonna check if he had a fever.”

“Don’t touch him, Fred.”

“I was just checking if he was ok!”

“Well, you don-!”

“Ok and I’m putting an end to this.” You stood up and shoved your way between them, pushing them away as you stepped forward. “What the hell has been going on with you two? This is- Godric- you guys are driving me nuts.” Before they knew what was happening you were ranting. “Seriously! I can’t even shower without you guys trying to be there! Like just- What is going on? This week feels like a year and I’m drowning in Wealsey cologne and fancy candy from Honeydukes-” Your hands were running through your hair sporadically, which the twins both thought was adorable, but knew now wasn’t the time.

Fred and George looked at each other as you went on.

“Please. Just- It hurts so much to see you too fight and it makes me want to punch something- literally anything- because you guys are my everything! Just fucking talk to me! Please.” Your chest was heaving when you finally finished, your entire body getting warm.

“Everything?” They turned to you, everything matching up insync.

“..What?” You felt even hotter than before. Wait, did you actually call them your everything?

“Aw, don’t playdumb now, (N/n)! You said we’re your everything.”

“You’re hearing things, Fred.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think we are.” They stepped closer.

“Ah, well, I.. never said that, Georgie. Very simple.”

“Do we have to go back to fighting over you?” Fred joked as they separated and began to advance toward you. The twins trapped you between them, one on both sides. George rested his arm on your shoulder while Fred shot him a teasing smirk, his nose scrunching up. “Cause we’ll do it, princey, don’t tempt us.”

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was your built up tension or your anger issues, but you grabbed them by the ties of their uniform and yanked them over to the staircase leading up to the dorms. You pressed them against the wall just before the stair cases and trapped them there with your body.

“Do it and fucking see what happens, Weasley.” One hand tangled their ties together, your other hand coming to press against the wall by George’s head. The boys’ faces erupted into a blush, causing you to smirk. “You two have been driving me absolutely nuts these past few days. I dare you to push one more button.” You tried not to act surprised by how your voice dropped. Fred’s tongue swiped across his suddenly dry lips and George turned even redder.

“Oh yea, (L/n)? What are you gonna do? Give us a stern talking too?” Fred smirked, his eyes trailing down your figure, then back up to your eyes. He was challenging you. You got closer to his face, your voice dripping even lower.

“I could tie you to the bed and fuck your brother right infront of you, make you watch him get what you oh so desperately crave.” Your head was cocked to the side, your eyes dark with something Fred had never seen before.

“Well, that was unexpected-” George all but whispered before he swallowed thickly, his hand coming up to cover his face.

“But damn, so accepted. Who knew he was so dirty?” Fred groaned out. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. You released the ties and favored running your fingers through his hair, grabbing onto a few locks and giving it a tug.

“Should we confess or should you guys just keep kissing?” George spoke up from the sidelines, fidgeting with his hands. Fred separated from you and got him the classic Weasley Side Smirk.

“I think he knows now, Georgie, come on!” Fred yanked his tie free and slipped free from you and proceeded to run up the steps, skipping 2 at a time. You took this time to appreciate his mile long legs. “Hope your good at keepin’ your promises, (L/n)!” He called from the top of the steps. With a laugh, you gave George a short kiss, grabbed his wrist and led the blushing redhead up the stairs.

By the time you and George came up the stairs, Fred was already trying to disrobe. I say trying because he’d given up on unbuttoning his white polo and is trying to pull the still buttoned collar over his head. Watching the older twin thrash around in the stuck shirt made George and you erupt in giggles.

“Should we help him?” George asked his laughs.

“Nah, he can figure it out himself. Besides, I wanna kiss you.” You cornered George against one of the bedposts, not caring whose bed was whose and immediately pressed your lips against his. He let out a needy moan and pulled you closer, his arms around your neck. Your hands landed on his waist as your teeth nibbled on his bottom lip. You pulled from the kiss when a second pair of arms wrapped around your waist, which you prompt slapped away. “What did I say? Get on the bed, Freddie.”

The groan that left the older twins lips was lewd, causing you to chuckle and shove him away from your back. He reluctantly laid on the bed, sprawled out like a starfish, his bulge prominent against his dark uniform. Damn, he must really want you. The idea of one of the twins drooling over you had you hardening in your pants.

“Not like that, Fred. Back against the headboard.” You spoke, gently leading George to the bed and pushing him to side down on the edge. You untied the younger twins tie and with a kiss to his nose moved to his counterpart, climbing onto the plush mattress one he obeyed. You smirked down at the redhead as you plopped yourself on his lap, causing him to groan.

“Having fun, doll?” Fred spoke as his hands instinctively moved to your hips, pulling you closer. You pulled his hands away from your waist, kissed each wrist before tying them to the headboard with his brother's tie.

“You know it, babe.” You casted him a wink. Climbing off his lap and prompt ignoring his whine, you brought your attention back to the younger twin and dragged him into a kiss. “And how are you feeling, Georgie?”

“Perfect.” His voice was soft and airy, causing you to giggle.

“Oi. Stop being cute without me.” Fred spoke up, nudging you in the side with his foot.

“Shut it. This is why you're tied up.” You smacked his foot away and pulled George onto your lap. You kissed along his neck, your fingers trailing through his hair. His hands slid from your shoulders, down your flat chest to your belt, promptly undoing it and pulling it free from the loopholes.

“Oh, please. You love my teasing.”

“I wish you gagged him with his tie.” George snickered out. He'd thrown the belt to the side and was now unbuttoning your white button up shirt.

“I’m debating on it, actually.” You laughed out. You sucked a mark on the side of George’s neck and shrugged off your shirt once it was fully undone and threw it to the side. Your hands came up to undo George's shirt, but ended up just ripping a few of the buttons free. “Fuck it, I’ll buy you new ones.” You pressed your lips to his again, your hands sliding across the bare skin. Fuck. His skin was so soft, but you could feel the muscles under it rippling with a soft moan.

“You know we have magic, right? You could’ve just spelled his clothes away.”

You let out a groan and pulled away from George's lips and glared at the older redhead. You shook your head in disapproval and tsked at him.

“You gag him, Georgie. I’m gonna finish stripping.” You stated, giving the tall redhead a slap on the bum before standing up. You watched Georgie snicker and slide Fred’s tie free.

“Wait, no. We can talk this through-” Fred was interrupted by the tie being shoved into his mouth. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry, Freddie. Should’ve shut your mouth. Had the chance.” Geogie patted his shoulder and scooted back. When he turned to you, he blushed a brighter red than his hair. You were lazily stroking yourself, your boxers hanging around your thighs. “Blimey-” George choked out, licking his lips.

“Like what you see?” You chuckled, stepping closer to him. He eagerly nodded his head. The boy was holding back the biggest urge to drop to his knees and suck the soul out of you. You flashed him a smirk. “Come on, then. Strip, baby,”

He rolled onto his back, lifted his legs and all but ripped himself free from his constricting jeans. The enthusiasm made you giggle. Your eyes followed along the pale skin and you wanted, oh so desperately to count the freckles sprinkled across his skin. God, he was so absolutely beautiful and it was safe to say Fred was just as beautiful.

“Merlin’s fucking beard. You’re so beautiful.” You stepped over, running your hands along his toned legs. “Godric, I should use your legs as earmuffs some time.” Your confidence grew when Fred and George both let out a whine. “Ok. Here’s what I want.” You sat him back up and leaned into his ear, your hands slowly sliding up his thighs. You licked your lips when you heard the younger redheads breath hitch. “I want Freddie to have a nice view, ok?” You whispered, your hands hiking higher up his thighs before you dragged your nails down the skin gently. “Go to the foot of the bed, spread your legs and lean over to put your hands on the mattress.”

George slipped out from beneath you and went to the foot of the bed. He was half bent over, legs spread and staring down at his hands on the mattress. Following him around the posts, you stood behind him and ran your hands down his toned back.

“Oh, fuck, you’re freckles go down your back-” Your voice came out breathy and light. Your eyes looked between Fred, who was whining against the tie and the twin slowly turning red.

“Is that good?” George asked, his ears tinting a bright red.

“Of course. You’re so beautiful. Does Freddie have the same patterns?” Your thumb ran over a patch of freckles.

“Yeah. He’s got these little patches of freckles everywhere.” George turned his head to look at you, a smile on his face. You couldn’t help but giggle, your hands rubbing over his globes.

“Godric, I can’t wait to see.” Your dark eyes turned to lock with Fred’s, as a dirty smirk came across your mouth. He let out a little whine, his legs shifting on the bed, trying to get some form of simulation.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” George laughed, pressing his forehead to the bed. You gave his asss a slap, causing him to whine.

“Be nice to him.” You snickered, leaning over to kiss the back of his neck whine your hand trailed down his abdomen. Your hand wrapped around his wood, his hips bucked in response. “You’re so hard.”

“Obviously.”

“Do I need to tie you up, too?”

“Oh, no sir.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

“Georgie.” You warned while pulling your hand away. You sucked on your pointer finger and brought it to his entrance, gently pushing it in. He was chewing on his bottom lip, trying to stay loose and relaxed. “Be nice.” You leaned off his back, standing up fully. Your other hand grabbed his cheek and spread it while your finger pulled back some. After spitting on your fingers,you gently slipped in a second finger. Godric, his moans were so perfect.

George was shivering. Sure, he’d played around in the shower, but damn was it better with a person, especially when that person was your crush. You prepped the bottom for what felt like hours and he was just about drooling into the sheets.

“Merlin, you really wanna be safe, don’t you.” George moaned out when you pressed your fingers against his prostate.

“Well, yeah. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“My god, you two are so gooey it hurts.” You both turned to Fred. He had a smirk on his face. Fucker had literally pushed the tie out of his mouth. “Get to it, (L/n).”

“For fucks sake, Fred.” You chuckled out, pulling your fingers away from his entrance. You held your own dick by the base before pushing the head in gently. George pressed his cheek against the bed, a whine leaving his lips. His freckle covered hands grabbed the sheets. His knees pressed together once you pushed all the way in him. “You ok?”

Your hands hopped from his hips to wrap around his midsection once he nodded. You let out a sigh of relief and placed a few kisses on the freckles scattered across his broad shoulders.

“I wish I was getting some of that action.” Fred’s head hit the headboard. This felt like he was having a wet dream and seeing it from 3rd person.

“If you kept your mouth shut, you could’ve joined us.”

Your hips pulled back slowly, your chin resting on George’s shoulder. The gasp that left his lips when you pushed back in had you shivering. You kept up a steady pace, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Groans, whimpers, moans, gasps- every noise echoed in the nearly empty room. George’s hand had found his dick between his legs and was shamelessly jerking it to match your hips.

“Godric, Georgie,” your voice so close to his ear had him moaning your name, “you're so tight, baby.”

Watching you fuck into his brother had Fred licking his lips. The older redhead desperately wanted to be in George's position and he was gonna throw something if he didn’t get some attention soon. He bounced his legs in dismay. His dick was painfully hard and throbbing in his boxers.

“I’m still here-” Fred did jazz hands against the headboard.

“And I'm busy, shut it.” You spat out as you rocked into George faster, who only grew louder beneath you. Your hands gripped his hips, your nails digging into his skin as you moved. George’s hand moved faster between his legs, which were shaking harder than an earthquake.

With a gasp, George came into his fist without a warning. A cry left lips, his hips bucking between your actions and his fist as he pressed his forehead into the bed. You kept the pace up, your own orgasm just around the corner.

“Almost there, Georgie. You’re so perfect.” You cooed in his ear, your teeth gently biting the tip of the cartilage. You moaned against his neck when you finally reached your own orgasm inside him. You stayed against him for a good while, just holding his sweaty form against his body.

You slowly pulled out and chuckled as George just kinda plopped onto the bed and climbed on the plush mattress with him. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and kissed his head.

“You did good. Are.. Are you falling asleep?” You laughed gently, watching the man's eyelids flutter. “Adorable. Love you, Georgie.” You shook your head when he mumbled out a quick ‘love you yoo’ and almost immediately began snoring. Fred cleared his throat, getting your attention.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You crawled over to him, undoing his tie. “Did you learn your lesson?” Your hand grazed over his bulge, your noses practically touching.

“You know I didn’t, baby boy.” Fred cupped your face, his calloused thumbs ran over your cheeks.

You let out a mock sigh of frustration before shaking your head back and forth. You watched his pale hands go to his belt and rip it off. He threw it off to the side before undoing his pants and simply pulling his dick out over the boxers.

“Wanna take care of this for me? I did sit and wait patiently.”

“You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Just suck my dick, won’t you?”

The bluntness made you snort but you dropped your head down anyway.

“I guess you deserve it.” You held the base of his dick and licked across the head, looking up at him with false innocent eyes. Fred ran his hands through your hair.

“Oh, yeah. You’re amazing.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.” You said between laughs.

“So get to it, dove!”

You rolled your eyes and took the tip into your mouth, your hand moving up and down on the base. The fingers in your hair slowly tightened, grabbing as much as he could. A moan fell from his lips as his head fell back against the wooden headboard with a thud. You licked along the underside of the head. It was clear he wasn’t going to last long.

You took him down to the base, gagging on the head hitting the back of your throat and began to pull back. About half way up, Fred pushed you back down, a needy whine leaving his lips. He used the hand in your hair to control your head going up and down.

“Amazing, dolly. Absolutely perfect.” He was just mumbling under his breath while he listened to you gag and whine around his length. He licked his lips as his hand somehow tightened on your locks. “Gonna cum. Swallow it, oh please swallow it.”

Your eyes were watering by the time he came down your throat, leaving you sputtering and choking. He gently pulled you off. He reached for the closest piece of fabric, which ended up being George’s shirt, and gently wiped himself down.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Fred teased as he threw the cloth and pecked your swollen lips.

“Wow. Only here for my bj skills?” You raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought we had something.” You planted a soft kiss on his lips. He suddenly reached up, holding your face as he stared into your eyes. His entire demeanor shifted to serious as he spoke. “(Y/n). I can tell you right now, me and my brother-”

“My brother and I-”

“Shut it. My brother and I,” his voice was filled with sass again, “have never, ever, ever, eevveerr felt this way about another person. We both love you, we have for a while. Granted this whole thing is super unorthodox, but we care about you.”

“It’s true.” mumbled a half asleep George as his arms snaked around your waist. You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips. “I know, Ginny was right.”

“She’s always right.” They said in unison.

“Now come on, let’s snuggle.” With that, George tugged you down next to him and Fred joined you. The three of you got cozy under a blanket and slowly drifted off, enjoying the body heat of each other.

The next morning, Ginny said ‘I told you so’ more times than you could count, but that was expected, even if you didn’t want to accept it.

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