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all-about-seggs · 3 years

Text

Sultry Blues-

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Insecure! Fem Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Trigger warning for insecurities (not specified), Body Worshipping, a bit of food play, cunnilingus, Semi-public sex.

The faint sounds of ringing bells from the shrine was still in the air as you made your way to the inner structure of the prestigious Jujutsu academy. The path to the meeting room was straight and lined with stone carvings which gave the entire place an ancient look. You had a lunchtime date with your boyfriend, who would, hopefully be on time so you could be on your way.

This place always made you uneasy, not because of the dangerous connotations it brought in everyone’s lives but it was the people who freaked you out the most. To you, each one of the teachers as well as the students looked like some characters straight from a book, elegant, strong and perfectly capable of doing things normal people like you could only read about. Not having enough confidence on yourself physically or mentally worsened every time it dawned on you that you were dating the most perfect being of them all.

Perplexing wouldn’t even began to describe your state of mind when Satoru first took interest in you, sure looks or status didn’t meant anything to him but even in terms of personality you never thought the two of you would get along, so much so that you would become such an irreplaceable part of each other. But you knew his feelings for you did nothing to stop the ache in your heart when you saw him getting ganged up on by a bunch of women. Women attractive than you, smarter than you and definitely stronger than you.

This was exactly the place where all those kind of women lived making you feel even more of an outsider in his world. Not wanting to cause Satoru any worries you tried to psyche yourself up by picking up your pace only to be met with a hard shoulder to your cheek.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking”, you looked up at the stranger, she was tall, her sturdy figure seemed like she was also a sorcerer but her ID pass was tucked on the breast pocket of her coat along with her youthful face indicated she was a student, you squinted to see that her name was Lisa and as you were about to apologise when you saw her sneer at you.

“ Ugh… outsiders. Don’t you know how to walk properly? Or did you not learn that in your no name school?”, her condescending tone took you aback.

You knew you didn’t exactly belong here but she wasn’t cutting you any slack for being a civilian either. You wanted to ask her why was she being so rude but your queries were cut off as by the girl.

“ No need to explain yourself I already know who you are, I’ve seen you following Gojo- San like a lost puppy a lot of times, seriously it’s like you don’t even have a presence without him.”, with a pause you finally thought her pointless berating would come to a stop but she went on.

“ He has a reputation to uphold here so don’t go around embarrassing him with your airheaded and average looking face”, now with THAT she crossed the line but as much as you wanted to give her a comeback all you anger turned into self loathing in a matter of seconds and you stood there dumbly not being able to defend yourself from the onslaught of verbal attacks that even you partially agreed with.

Not even bothering to look at her when she passed you thought about her mean words that were half untrue. You knew dating a popular guy would include more that just a little bit harmless envy of girls. At this point you’d be lucky if you didn’t get attacked by one of your boyfriend’s fangirl. But, It wasn’t about Satoru anymore, you thought. It was about how you were letting the jealousy of his superficial admirers who didn’t even knew only knew his name and face. Before you could delve more into your darkening thoughts you heard a cheery voice call out to you.

Bag at hand, which probably contained some sort of dessert you saw Satoru gleefully making his way towards you. It took you a few seconds to plaster a believable smile to your face so you could greet him normally.

“ Wow I can’t believe IM the one who had to wait around this time”, placing a tiny kiss on your nose he pulled you in for a hug, his warmth seeping into you put your mind at ease and help you distract yourself from the horrible encounter before.

“ The meeting was pointless and even the snacks turned out to be lame”, whining a little he waved the bag in front of you. A convenient store vanilla sponge cake with a packet of strawberry sauce was right in front of you and honestly if it were you, you’d probably eat it without question but knowing his love for quality sweets it was understandable why he’d complain.

“ Well actually, with the right toppings and modifications even convenient store packed cakes can taste top class!”, thinking about all the ways you’ve experimented watching diy food videos you started thinking up of ways to serve it to him.

“I see, that’s a good idea and I think it’ll give us some headstart for our date wouldn’t it?”, saying that he gestured you towards one of the buildings that lead to the back exit.

Walking hand in hand Satoru came to a stop which seemed like a closed off gate that was not in use anymore.

“ Why are we here? I thought the back exit was the other way around?”, confusion painted over you face you turned to face your mischievous partner.

“ you said you’d help me eat them, and I think it’s a pretty good place, don’t you?”, stepping closer he urged you to take a look around. The area didn’t have any benches, buildings or even people around and the only sound you could hear was the birds and the small artificial streams of river that flowed a few steps away from the closed off exit.

If Satoru was insinuating something you started to get the hang of it and you soon felt you face get hotter. The afternoon sun did nothing to help you cool down as you struggled to make sense of the situation. His hands were all over your body, caressing, pinching and feeling you up.

“ What’s wrong? Not up for it in semi public style?”, his breathy voice got lost in the crook of you neck where he inhaled your scent, “ you know nobody’s gonna come” with a slight push, he pinned you againt the vine-covered gate, “Except for you”.

“what the- WAIT! It’s still so bright out here not to mention we’re in PUBLIC Satoru!”, wide eyed you try to grab at his hand that was halfway done unbuttoning the top of your blouse.

“Do you want me to blindfold you?”, throwing these words nonchalantly he started licking every bit of exposed skin he could find from your ears to chest.

His mouth made contact with your covered breasts and without bothering to remove the piece of clothing he latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple to give it a gentle bite. Holding back your own moans you placed you hands on his broad shoulders, a feeble attempt at stopping him.

“How would THAT resolve anything?!” already half naked, your retorts seemed like pathetic excuses even to your own ears. It wasn’t until you heard a sharp rip that you realised your underwear was no longer on your body anymore. With a horrified look you saw your unusable underwear in Satoru’s hand.

“ I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore my sweetness because I want to see ALL of you”, dangling the fabric from his long fingers he made a show of tucking it in his pocket. Hiking your skirt up with one hand he caressed the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“I knew you had no sense of danger but this could even get us arrested”, your reasoning seemed to fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend, already half way down on the ground, pulled his blindfold down with ease. Looking at up at you with his ethereal turquoise eyes that lied beneath strips of heavy white eyelashes, this part of his face was something you couldn’t see all the time.

“You’re beautiful……”, the genuine nature of his words felt unreal when compared to his everyday frivolous self, “at least I’ve always thought so”.

All the voices in the place except for his, got drowned out by the throbbing of your heart in your chest when he kneeled right in front of your crotch. The warm smile on his lips contradicted with his tantalizing actions but he enjoyed it precisely because of that.

“Open your legs a bit more y/n, I need more space to eat”, with his haughty smirk back he exposed more of your pussy with his fingers and dribbled the strawberry sauce over it until it started trickling down to the ground underneath it.

“This looks like a good dessert, waaay better than the one I was offered before”, making one last smartass comment he threw the now empty packet away and your sugar coated pussy was soon met with Satoru’s soft, warm tongue as he buries his face in it. His tongue worked it’s way beneath the layer of your pussy hair and down to the soft flabby skin underneath. Your natural slick combined with the dressing sauce tasted even sweeter in his mouth, the pleasant hums falling uncontrollably from his mouth made you wetter.

All the blemishes, scars and your self imposed flaws started melting into something more complete and unbreakable in its nature when you felt Satoru touching you, feeling you and tasting you from the inside and out.

His warm hands firmly gripped your thighs to lap at the soft peak in between. All the sensations his tongue was providing you made your vision turn black and your body heated up to the point of burning. The broad daylight and your exposed form added to the fear of being found out but your trust in your boyfriend outweighed everything so you let him have his way.

“ Hmmm, yeah y/n…”, the exaggeratingly loud slurping of his mouth came to a stop as he looked up at you, his pink lips glistening even more when he spoke, “Even this cheap stuff tastes better when I eat it directly from you”.

You were a panting mess, already having lost the ability to make coherent words you kept you eyes on Satoru as rose to his feet.

“ Let’s move on to the next part shall we?”, after smoothening out your skirt of you he held out his hand and your need for release took over all rhyme and reason so you put one of your shaking hand in his. The next few moments were confusing as a white light enveloped both of your forms and by the time your vision returned you found yourself in an unknown room.

The place itself was nothing out of the ordinary, some books, a cupboard and a vanity. The single bed near the curtained window was properly made. It was clearly not Satoru’s room but the neatness of the place also suggested that it wasn’t an unused room either.

“ Hey we’re are we?”, you question the white haired male when he casually made his way to switch on the lights.

“Don’t worry we’re still in the academy premises, you wanted to finish this right? And I didn’t wanted to go another second with hearing your pretty voice, so you can scream now,” his voice dangerously low, he held your arms in both of his hands and guided you to the single bed in the corner.

“ and I didn’t meant that as a request”, flat on your back you had no time for further questioning as your exposed cunt got filled to the brim in a single thrust. The stretch made you cry out and remembering Satoru’s previous warning you didn’t bother covering your mouth. The light in the room was enough for him to see all of you, even if he had all of you memorized at the back of since the first time.

Your twisted face that you’d consider ugly was nothing if not arousing to him from the kneeling position of his at the edge of the bed, endearing even at how the side of your eyes well up everytime he fucked you so hard, the creaking of the bed acted as a proof of his brutal pace that threatened to break the furniture.

Each powerful thrust of his made your entire body lurch from its position, your juices flowed endlessly down your thighs, on Satoru’s cock and down to the sheets. Your voice ricocheted off the walls and gave life to the entire building.

Having your orgasm cut off before, the anticipation that had build up made your upcoming release feel even ore intense. Your walls started clenching around his shaft, already feeling waves of ecstasy you waited for it to reach its peak.

“ Y/n...Come for me”, in between his grunts he placed on of his hand on the side of your head, lowering himself till your noses touched. Breaths intermingling, you came with a loud cry of his name. Euphoria spreaded through both of your bodies making a gush of liquid come out of your pussy when Satoru pulled out, both of your mess soiled the sheet.

Few minutes of silence passed by as a fully clothed Satoru sat beside you, stroking your head until you calmed down.

“ Hey y/n?”, abruptly his cheeky tone filled the room and you looked up at him questioningly,

“ Wanna take a pic? ya'know, as a momento”, the odd question made you come to an obvious conclusion, which now seemed obvious considering your boyfriend’s not so secret rebellious nature and with how much of a brat he can be it was nothing short of hilarious.

“ It’s Lisa’s room isn’t it?”, barely controlling your laughter you tried to pry an answer out of him, the soothing motion of his hands never coming to a stop he took out his phone with another.

“ Yeah, it is, I’d say it’s an excellent way of showing her our ‘bond’ dontcha think?”, his cringey answer made you burst into laughter. The first real smile he’d seen on your face since you got here was something Satoru wanted to be a constant thing, always there when he wanted to see it just like a still photograph.

Bending his face down his lips softly met your forehead and before you could open your eyes back up you heard the click of the camera go off.

“ Heh, so how is it?”, propping yourself up on your elbows you tried to peak at the screen but it was pulled out of sight just as quickly.

“ It’s perfect”, with a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes Satoru put his phone down before peering into your eyes, “and it’s mine”.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #my writing

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strayficks · 3 years

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Could I request sloppy but sensual/fluffy sex with Lucas?

Hello! here's my take on your request, i've been gone for a while.. i hope you guys like it because im back with Lucas baby!!

You rolled on your side, looking at the left side of the bed. Empty. huh you thought. You swallowed your saliva to ease the dryness of your throat. You looked around, an attempt to find him. The shower's not running, he can't be showering at this time. He said he didn't have anything to do today, you would be disappointed if he left to go somewhere without telling you. It wouldn't matter if he woke you up in the middle of the night or dead early in the morning. It's better than not being told anything.

You were already gripping the sheets snugly covering your body to the side when you heard heavy footsteps getting closer to the room. The door opened, hands so gentle as if he was cautious he was too rough. He looked over at you, the tray, and back at you again. A sheepish smile appeared on his face as he walked over and set down the tray on the coffee table.

"I was planning on making it a surprise." He muttered, getting closer and peppering kisses on the fresh hickey on your collarbone. He swiped a finger on it and asked,

"Does it hurt? did i suck too hard?"

You blushed and yesterday came down on you. Lucas had given you a hickey because of the low V-neck dress that you wore made you the spotlight for men. The tight fabric that hugged your body didn't help Lucas from being protective. He practically clung to you and being extra touchy. You liked it, but he wouldn't hear any of it since you were sure he would literally keep talking about it.

"A little yeah, it's really purple." You answered, shrugging your blush with a smile. Your hand came up to his jaw, which he leaned his head onto. He closed his eyes, seemingly savoring the warmth.

"Im sorry, you were so hot. I was so hard the entire time while you were shaking your ass." You pulled back your hand to cover your face as he tried to pull them away.

"You didn't even look guilty when we got back home, you went straight to sleep." He sulked, enveloping your hands in his.

"I was tired." You said simply, it was true.

"I made you breakfast." He nodded to the tray on the table."

You pursed your lips, contemplating. You were grateful that he was considerate enough to take care of you but you felt bad dragging him along to the club, and leaving him high and dry the entire time.

"Breakfast can wait, would you let me make up for last night? I'm not tired now."

His eyes lit up for a split second, but they softened as he said,

"Are you sure? Let's not do anything-"

"You're totally hard right now."

You smirked, both your eyes diverting to the tent in his sweatpants. You both looked at each other, knowing what comes next.

"Right, breakfast can wait. Don't complain when it gets cold though."

He kissed you, lips soft and warm filled with emotions too big to say out loud. You felt everything from the very first day you met, to the day of your first fight with him. A simple kiss with so much to say. You thought he would go rough, since.. you know, he'd been complaining that you didn't take care of his boner yesterday. But he took things slow. From the way he slipped off your camisole and peppering kisses everywhere he touched you. Every praises he gave you made your breath hitch. It was then until you were naked you realized that you were the one that's supposed to make up for him, not the other way around.

"Wait wait," You tapped his broad shoulders, making him look up at you.

Disheveled hair and half closed eyes, he raised an eyebrow. You got out from under him and managed to get him on his back. Tugging on his sweats, you reminded him.

"Let me do this for you."

He smiled, a mischievous tone to it. You pulled down his sweats, his cock oozing with precum, red and veiny. The perfect length and girth.

"Stop staring, im shy." He covered his face, imitating you from five minutes ago. Whatever, you thought.

"You wont be when i have your cock hitting the back of my throat."

He didn't have time to react as you brought his cock up to your lips and kissed the tip, teasing and fanning your hot breath on it. The itself was enough to make him squirm. He was always sensitive. It's a sight to behold really.

The rays of the morning sun lit up the room. Lucas laid down in front of you, cock hard, just for you.

You wrapped your lips around his thick cock, hands travelling to caress his thigh and under his shirt. His stomach clenched as you sink your face further down, having his tip hut the back of your throat. A ragged moan came from him,

"You're so pretty like this."

The praise only turned you on even more. You could feel the wetness dribbling down your clit as you continued to suck his cock. You brought up you hand to jerk him off while you suck his balls. He jerked his hips up into your hand but he suddenly stopped.

"I want to cum inside you, please."

You released his balls with a pop. He gestured his hand and grabbed the sides of your face to kiss you. His finger played with your nipple, lightly flicking it. You moaned into the kiss as he directed his tip under your clit, rubbing the pleasure points together. Both of you didn't want to break the kiss, so when he rubbed his cock some more, coating his cock, mixing his precum with your wetness, it had you grinding on top of him, you could feel him smile into the kiss.

It was when he suddenly thrusted inside of you. You could feel every inch of him, his tip kissing your cervix. A throaty moan was all it took for you to break the kiss. He was big, and you always had to adjust to him every time you had sex.

You don't know what is up about today, but it just felt like he was bigger than usual.

You didn't even realize you were brimming with tears until Lucas swiped his fingers under your eyes. With a concerned look on his face, Lucas said,

"Let's stay like this for a bit."

He kissed you again, slow and passionate. His hand traveled around your body, your shoulders, your hips, your stomach, thighs, knees, all while he kissed you. It felt like a while until you were ready, you slowly moved your hips. Every roll you make sent shivers down your spine, and it looked like Lucas was enjoying it too judging from the tightened grip on your ass.

"S-so big.."

You mumbled, a rhythm finally set as you both thrust into each other. The pace was slow, but with everytime you lower down on him, he made sure that he was buried deep in you, his tip putting pressure on you cervix sent waves of pleasure over you.

"Baby, come on. I'm gonna take us there." His thumb rubbed circles on your clit, making you tighten and clench around him. He moaned into your lips and spoke into your lips,

"Can't forget about the clit, i want to make you feel as good as possible. I want you to cum for me."

You leaned your forehead on his as his pace quickened. Both of your moans filled the room. Lucas's voice sound higher in pitch, a rasp to it.

"Please cum for me, that's all i want today."

You can already feel it building, your stomach feels like butterflies and with a couple more hard thrusts, he had you shaking and crying.

You came hard on top of him. He kept going until you felt his cock convulse inside you, coating your walls with thick ropes of cum. He held you close, his hips grinding slowly under you as if he didn't want any drop of his cum oozing out of you, shoving them deeper inside. He muttered something that sounded like 'don't let a drop go to waste' or 'don't waste it' or anything along the lines of that.

You were too focused on picking yourself up, your trembling thighs struggling to move. He held you down, and looked up at you.

He smiled and brought his lips up to your nipple.

"So, about breakfast."

A/n: so.. im back, and accepting requests. send one if you want!

#wong yukhei #wong yukhei smut #wong lucas #wong lucas smut #lucas wayv #lucas wayv smut #lucas nct #lucas nct smut #nct #nct smut #wayv #wayv smut #nct imagines #wayv imagines

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puttingfingerstokeys · 3 years

Text

Hat Trick

in which Johnny Cage is... himself. Featuring the Shaolin Rowdy Boys. Formatting is for losers.

faraday cage implied, shaolin rowdy boys too obviously.

Prevented timeline

“Yeah, yeah, your hat’s cool an’ all, but honestly, Raiden’s got you beat,” declared Johnny Cage, wrapping a towel around broad shoulders, mopping the sweat off his brow. Kung Lao shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“Lord Raiden’s hat is not a weapon,” he said as Liu Kang walked into the SF locker room area. The Shaolin monks had been asked to come and provide special training for the new batch of recruits and they had just finished for the day.

“It does not need to be,” Liu Kang reminded his friend, sidling past Kung Lao to the locker he was borrowing. Sweat glistened upon his muscular back and Johnny made a conscious effort to keep his eyes on the man with whom he was conversing. If Lao noticed, he said nothing. He was not blind. Even well into their fifties, all three men were at the height of their strength, power, and if you asked Johnny—no one did; it was a bad move in general if one did not have time—looks.

Johnny shot Liu Kang a set of finger guns, brow cocked. “See? He’s got it. Dude shoots LIGHTNING!”

“Correction,” supplied the humbler of the two monks, his fist full of clean clothing, “Lord Raiden is lightning.”

Johnny waved this off as if to say “tomato-tomahto”.

“Anyway, what I really wanna know is how he keeps that lid on,” Johnny Cage continued, stripping his clothing off thoughtlessly and tossing it in the “dirty” bag. This, at least, he had learned—long ago, he had learned this, in fact, when Cassie was just a kid and she complained that his dirty things did not belong in the duffle bag with his clean things; something about cross contamination or “just plain gross” or something—and had held to for many years. What was once an unruly jerk, to put it mildly, had become a responsible father… mostly. He still had his idiosyncrasies.

“He is a god,” said Liu Kang, shrugging and moving past Kung Lao once more, opting to strip closer to the showers. Johnny, he knew, liked to strut. Neither of them begrudged him this, however, as it was his home territory.

“That’s a shitty explanation,” said Johnny, shooting Liu a look as the monk disappeared around the tiled corner to the showers. Lao and Johnny thought they heard a low chuckle before the shower started up and steam began to roll from that doorway.

“Do you have a better one?” Kung Lao asked, closing his temporary locker, fist also closed around his clothing. He too intended to disrobe elsewhere. Johnny by now was in compression shorts and nothing else. It was about to be nothing, period, as one thumb hooked over the elastic. The word “CAGE” was embroidered on the waistband and for half a moment, Kung Lao wondered who had put it there for him, like a child who forgets his clothing at a friend’s home. It then occurred to him that Johnny Cage was a very wealthy man and had clothing lines—multiple—with his name stamped all over them. Vanity, Kung Lao thought, making a face of disapproval.

“Yeah, I do—I’ll just ask ‘im.”

Kung Lao had heard and seen much when it came to Johnny Cage and his obvious interest in the god of thunder. He and Liu Kang had agreed to keep it between themselves, though if anyone could not see it, they were blind as Kenshi… though he had seen it as well—something about the man’s heartrate when the god was nearby. This, however, was for some reason right up there with the time he had heard Johnny Cage refer to Lord Raiden as “thunder tits” with no consequences.

“You cannot just—”

“PFFTH not with that attitude,” said Johnny and then shouted—his voice echoed violently in the tiled room and Kung Lao winced, “HEY—Raidude, you on this frequency or whatever? I got a question!”

Kung Lao, fully expecting nothing, jumped again as a muffled clap of thunder once more rent the now-steamy air. Whatever it was had occurred outside, naturally, but was loud enough to pull Liu Kang’s attention and he poked his dripping head around the corner, long hair draped about his shoulders, a quizzical look upon his face. “Was that…?”

It was.

Ducking slightly under the economized entrance of the locker room, the god of thunder entered without pomp, circumstance, or ceremony. “I have an answer, Johnny Cage, and I am grateful that you did not whistle this time. It is… abrasive.”

“Of course it is,” Kung Lao grunted under his breath. Raiden regarded him momentarily and the monk covered himself, though he was not nude. Liu Kang’s head stayed where it was, though he seemed to want to shrink back into the showers. His cheeks were red and it was not necessarily from the heat. In fact, of the three mortals, only Johnny Cage was not blushing.

“Hey, I said I wouldn’t, right? Anyway—whatever, I got a question… Your hat,” he said, gesturing toward it. “How’s it stay up there?”

Raiden touched the brim briefly and looked puzzled, brows knitting, as if he had never considered this. The two monks watched, wide-eyed. Johnny gestured.

“So, can I knock it off?” He figured he would at least ask this one. Sucker punching a god was both dangerous and difficult, even a friendly one.

“You may attempt.”

If Liu Kang’s sharp ears were not full of suds and deceiving him, he would have sworn upon the jinsei itself that Raiden’s voice contained a hint of genuine amusement. They watched as the god of thunder even dipped his head, ever-so-slightly, to make the blow easier. Like lightning, Johnny’s hand shot out and both monks remembered suddenly why he was a valuable ally. The hit was charged with just a little of what he called his shadow energy, to give a little more impact. The hat did not move.

“OW.”

“All right, all right… you’re not fuckin’ with me; I get it.” Johnny waved it off, as he waved much in his life off, until something about the hat caught his eye. “Hang on.”

Raiden straightened; this time, open amusement played across his face. Johnny held his wrist and anticipated a bruise, even with the shielding of his power. He watched as Raiden raised a hand to the ornate jingasa and lifted it effortlessly, bringing it downward for Johnny's inspection. All three sets of mortal eyes were upon it, as if anticipating something mystical to occur. Kung Lao was kicking himself for never considering asking the god about his clothing, but then… when had the occasion arisen for such a conversation? It had not in fact arisen just now, either. Johnny simply did not care. Sometimes, Lao envied him this.

With deliberate slowness, then, knowing how dangerous it was to get close to Raiden. Certain proximities were safe, but those were much more intimate than he was comfortable attempting with two other people in the immediate area—and he did not yet know this secret, anyway. He laid his hand on the hat and felt the buzz of electricity through it, from the god of thunder.

“Is this…?” His voice softened, such that Liu, with the shower on behind him, almost could not hear. He did, however, hear it and the tone in which it was delivered. Kung Lao was already edging toward the door to the showers and ended up buffeting his friend out of the way and back into those showers, to give the other two some space.

“Your gift? Yes.” The answer was simple, might almost have sounded casual or pat, if anything Raiden ever said could sound that way.

“Did you… put that thing on just ‘cause I called?”

“It is one of my most precious possessions, Johnny Cage; thus, I wear it frequently.” Raiden replaced the beautiful jingasa and straightened. “If I cannot further satisfy you, I have matters to which I must attend at the Sky Temple.”

Johnny could think of some serious, further satisfaction, but kept it locked away tight, in a deep, dark corner of his mind and heart and shook his head. “Hate t’see you go, big guy,” he said, once more shooting finger guns at something that should not be finger-gunned, “but I love watchin’ you leave.”

“Indeed.”

And with that, the god of thunder, Earthrealm’s protector, departed, first through the doorway of the locker room and then via a bolt of lightning. Johnny stood for several moments, hands on hips, before shucking his shorts and sauntering into the shower area only to see Liu Kang and Kung Lao, huddled close together, clearly whispering. The whispers echoed, but were also stifled by the water. He rolled his eyes and ignored them, wondering when they’d see what everyone else saw. Idiots, he thought, ah, but they’ll get to it eventually.

#cc #cw #mortal kombat #johnny cage #raiden #kung lao #liu kang #faraday cage #shaolin rowdy boys #liulao

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jae-daddy · 4 years

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Chubby (11)

Jaebum AU Series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / twelve

masterlist

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader Genre: Romance, Drama, Mature, Angst Plot: you are getting bullied, and jaebum decides to help you a/n: a little dorky chappy :) hope yall like it not edited

Jaebum and you were walking home afterschool. You carried a shopping bag with you for tonights dinner and cat food for Tee. Jaebum walked leisurely infront of you, his attention stuck on his phone.

You pouted a bit. You knew you weren’t actually dating, but you guys were more than just schoolmates. He hadn’t said a word to you all day except in school asking you to do his homework for him because he had something important tonight and couldn’t do it. And once again to tell you he felt like having spicy beef soup.

That’s all he had said. That’s the only attention he paid to you all day.

What was so important? Why couldn’t he tell you? Especially if it bothered him so much.

Even from his back you could tell how stressed he was. His broad shoulders were raised up, all tensed. His long steps lacked the kickback leisure it had to it; now it was just a praticed leisure walk to pretend like nothing is wrong. But everything was wrong, his left foot stepped too out every time. He stepped on all the cracks that he would normally avoid, and he wasn’t even looking back at you to make sure you were there as if you would magically disappear.

He just walked with his nose glued to his phone, and his fingers furiously tapping.

“Hey, Jae-AH!”

Idiot!

The shopping bag flew from your hands, as you fell towards the pavement. Your palms and knees burned, as a can of cat food rolled infront of you.

You winced, tears prickling your eyes, as you cursed yourself. You rose one palming blowing on it gently, and reached for the can that had landed infront of you with the other. You bit your lip, as you inspected the cracks on your skin pooling with red.

In a split second, a hand grasped both of yours, before another grabbed your chin, making you stare up at Jaebum.

His face was painted with worry and concern, as he searched your face. His dark eyebrows scrunched up as his eyes ran over your cheeks and forehead. His wide eyes as scanned your face; his face dark and loving at once. The caramel warmth in his eyes glistened as the sun peeked through the cloudy skies. His nose scrunched up slightly, as his jaw tightened once his eyes landed on your eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soft but hoarse. “Does it hurt?”

His eyes snapped to your palms. He let out a hiss seeing the damage, before blowing on it gently.

Your heart stopped in your chest as you starred at him. The long strands of his hair fell into his eyes, and delicately curling against his face. His face pale, and worried, making him look more adorable as his pink lips pouted a little.

His cool breath sharply landing against the burns of your palms, making the pain disappear instantly. HIs warm hands holding both yours in his.

He looked away from your hands, and met your eyes.

You gulped nervously. You had moved in towards him without thinking, and now your face was inches away from him.

You could see the mole above his eye, and faded laugh line around his eyes.

His eyes stared into yours, making you feel hot. Your heart leaped in its place, and began bursting against your ribcage. Your chest rose up and down, heavily as you tried to control your racing breath.

Jaebum’s melting brown eyes dropped from yours and landed on your lips. You felt your stomach flip, as he lightly licked his pink lips. You subconsciouly copied him as his grip on your hand tightened.

Your lips parted as he leaned closer towards you. HIs eyes darting between your eyes and lips; unsure, uncertain, but wanting. You stayed in place, trying to control your breathing, your fingers wrapping around his hands.

You remembered the kiss from the night before. No matter how much you pretended it didn’t happen around Jaebum, you knew it had happened. It happened and it was wonderful in that moment.

And you were ready for it again. Ready to feel his soft lips on yours. His large warm hand on the back of your neck, hiding into your hair. His tongue deliciously running over your lips, as he pulls you in closer.

You were ready for it.

You closed your eyes, leaning in to meet Jaebum.

“JB?”

Your eyes snapped open, as you fell back reaching out to a Jaebum that was moving away from you.

He pushed you.

You stared up at him in disbelief as he shot you one of panic. He leaned for a spilt second like he was about to help you up, but then slightly winced at you before turning to the person infront of him.

“Bam, what are you doing here?” JB answered his voice slightly shaking.

You groaned quietly, before getting up and rounding up the cans that fell from the shopping bag. You held the bag and hissed as it dug into your skinned palms. As you stood up straight, you winced as your scrapped knees complained at its wounds too.

“We’re having a party tomorrow, you coming?” the white haired guy asked Jaebum.

Jaebum glanced at you before nodding.

“Yeah sure, text me the address.”

“Cool, the others are going to love having you back around man.” The boy laughed before noticing you.

“You should come too,” he told you, smilingly. You returned it with an awkward one. “Are you two an item?”

“An item?” you laughed, you hadn’t heard that term in so long. It was so old fashioned and seemed out of place coming from a boy as stylish as him.

“No, she’s just a school friend.” Jaebum cut in between.

A school friend?

“Oh, good then.” The boy smirked, before holding out a hand. “I’m Bambam, and you have to come. Promise you will?”

“I’m y/n,” you replied softly, feeling shy, as you shook his hand. Bambam rose an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to answer him. You nodded, hestiantly as you looked over at Jaebum.

Jaebum was looking at your hands shaking, as his jaw ticked slightly.

Did he not like you talking to Bambam? Or did he not want you to come?

The boy said something before waving and walking away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful.” Bambam winked at you. “You promised.”

“Let’s go,” Jaebum said, as he took the bags from you and began walking.

You stayed still for a few moments, before catching up with Jaebum.

A school friend.

That’s all you were to him. Nothing more, nothing less. Why hadn’t he just said a friend, wouldn’t that have been easier and simplier?

But that’s what you are to him, less than a friend. Just a school friend.

“I’m excited to cook tonight,” Jaebum says after a moment of walking in silence.

You snapped out of your thoughts and nodded, looking at the pavement.

“Does it hurt?” Jaebum asked, gesturing at your clasped hands.

You shook your head in reply, and looked out on to the streets. It wasn’t that late in the day, but the street lights had already turned on. The skies had gotten darker, and sun hid its sunshine leaving the world cold and dark.

But the streets looked pretty. The budding leaves gently swayed in the trees as the lights shown golden.

“I can put some healing cream on it when we get home.”

“It’s okay, I can reach the places so...” you trailed off, stealing a glance at him.

He still looked handsome, more with the golden lights surrounding him. Your heart ached looking at him. You were in love with him, and he didn’t even consider you a friend.

You walked towards your apartment when he spoke again.

“Uh, would you like to come to the party?” Jaebum asked, making you look up at him. Your cheeks flushed feeling embarrased.

“Is it okay for me to?” I am just a school friend, you wanted to add but decided not to for the better.

Jaebum nodded smiling slightly.

“It will actually make it more fun if you came.” He shrugged, leaning against the wall as you entered the passcode to your door. “It’s just a small get together.”

You thought about it for a moment, before nodding.

“Well, I did kinda promise that guy. And if you say its fine then, sure I’ll come,.” you smiled at him, he smiled back and your heart stopped beating.

“I’ll come up in a bit.” You breathed after a moment.

“Cool, see ya. I’ll go feed Tee,” Jaebum ruffled your hair before turning around and walking to the stairs.

Im Jaebum will the death of you, and you couldn’t think of a sweeter way to day.

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tiliamericana · 3 years

Text

Muay Thai: 1.04

Read From Start | Read Ahead | Home Site

It was amazing just how quickly Nairi got used to waking up and finding texts from Cherry waiting for her.

Cherry seemed to be up and on at all hours of the day; she was awake in the morning well before Nairi’s eleven o’clock alarm, but also worked well into the small hours of the night and put in long hours at the day job. Nairi had managed to ascertain that it had something to do with art—Cherry had strong opinions on grades of paper (something about absorbency), colour theory (people were stupid), watercolours (they were bad), and on the one occasion she’d come upstairs had informed Nairi that her walls were driving her mad and that she’d be painting something to stop the encroaching insanity.

When she wasn’t inserting herself into Nairi’s life she was sending Nairi pictures and selfies with her other friends; grad students with brightly coloured hair, a grinning bartender showing off his flair, baking with a short woman in glasses. And now this:

C: youre closed on tues y/y?? C: which means yourf free tonight right?

Nairi sent her back a quick “yes” and set her phone down before pulling herself out of bed to face the day. Not opening the dojo meant she was able to take a little longer with her morning, but she still preferred to do her prayers before she had to think about anything else, and Cherry was prone to showing up if Nairi indicated she had free time. Which she apparently had a lot more of than she realised.

Maybe she should look for a new style to start training in. This was the first time she hadn’t been focused on a new one since she… Well, for a while.

When she came back upstairs her phone was lit up again. Maybe Cherry had ideas about lunch? It would mean she’d have a reason to go out and eat something.

C: great!! C: dn you wanna come out tonight?? dinner C: on me if i need to sweeten it ;) edies just moved back fr work and if its just me her and nick im go6na die from them being old folks who disapprove all night C: also i keep talking about you at nick and he wants to meet you lol

Nairi had initially assumed ‘Nick’ was Cherry’s father, just based on the way she talked about him. But then Cherry had mentioned her father later, just calling him ‘Dad’, so maybe he wasn’t? Either that, or she was very discreet about their being gay. Or she just went back and forth between ‘Dad’ and ‘Nick’ arbitrarily. ‘Edie’ on the other hand was a name Cherry had mentioned in passing once and then never again, so Nairi had concluded she was one of the colourful grad students. Apparently not.

She sent back a “sure”, and then after a moment, asked for a place and time.

C: yay!! thank you!! C: its this fckn italian place edie loves but theres a ok bar so not all bad C: edies fatal allergic to being on time but nickll be 7 minutes early

The next message was a sticker, a little pair of eyes rolling across her phone screen when she opened it.

C: meet at 7? C: i checked the menu has good veg C: pasta heavy but good :p

Nairi smiled a little at that and sent her another “yes”. After a moment she added a “thank you”. Cherry sent her back three hearts, and Nairi put her phone down to go and get some lunch.

She didn’t think anything of it until she showed up at the restaurant. Cherry had driven and was already parked, leaning against the side of her obnoxious little two door to wait. It was bright red and nearly vintage, and she’d obviously put a lot of care into it. Nairi had half expected vanity plates, but they were a normal registration.

Nairi waved as she approached and Cherry visibly perked up with a wide, glossy smile, waving back. Cherry had dressed up a little nicer—dark skinny jeans and a pretty sleeveless shirt with a modest v-neck. The heavy Docs were gone, traded for heeled ankle boots, and she had delicate pearl bob earrings to match her golden cross. Not a paint spatter in sight.

“Hi,” she said as Nairi drew to a halt just out of arm’s reach. “Didn’t we pick an interesting night to go out?”

“We sure did,” said Nairi, her brow furrowing as she looked past Cherry to the road between them and the restaurant. “What the hell is going on?”

The stretch of asphalt was filled with a flock of young adults, all of them shirtless, yelling along together in an incomprehensible chant as they ran up and down between two unmarked points on the road. They were arguably being directed; a young woman with a reflective coat and a manic grin, holding a megaphone in one hand and an airhorn in the other, was standing on a shopping cart in the middle. Standing next to her on the ground, was another woman in reflective orange with a clipboard.

Judging by the amount of honking and the lack of anything resembling city signage, this wasn’t an official event.

Cherry glanced down at her phone as one of the women held up the airhorn to the megaphone. Charitably she waited for Nairi’s ears to stop ringing before she spoke. “Flo did a round on the facebook pages—apparently it’s some dorm flash mob from a hall at her college.”

“Which one’s Flo? Did she have the blue hair?” asked Nairi as she lowered her hands from her head and gladly pulled her attention away from a panting eighteen-year-old who had something pink painted on his heaving chest.

“Nah that’s Mason, he’s finishing up his sociology honours. Flo has the green hair, she’s doing her psych PhD,” said Cherry, craning her neck to look around Nairi. “Nick’s here! Right on time, like I said.”

She started waving, and Nairi turned to see the tallest man she’d ever seen waving back across at them. She raised an eyebrow, the muscles in her forearms tensing, and she tried not to feel too uneasy about it.

Cherry hummed happily, picking herself up from where she was leaning on the car door and reaching in through the open window to grab a thin cardigan from the seat. “Oh, and just a heads up,” she said casually, “Nick like, really hates it when people call me Cherry, it’ll probably be better if you just use my real name in front of him.”

Nairi opened her mouth to remind her that she’d never actually gotten around to saying what the was exactly, but Cherry was already halfway across the lot towards the man. “Nick!” she called out as she approached, closing the distance and leaning up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

He said something to her, pausing to hug her back before continuing over to Nairi. He drew to a halt next to her while Cherry returned to perching against her car. “You must be Nairi,” he said, voice alarmingly deep, hand outstretched. “Linden’s told me so much about you.”

Nairi took his hand and shook it once before dropping it, resisting the urge to take a step back once she’d done so. “Likewise. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Nicholas was close to seven feet tall and probably in his late fifties or very early sixties if she was any judge. His hair had landed firmly in the ‘grey’ zone just past salt-and-pepper, though he’d managed to keep rather a lot of it, close cropped in a very standard short back and sides. He had broad shoulders and a carefully ironed shirt that looked worn but cared for. He had a firm grip, muscle swelling ever so slightly in the lines of his shirt, and there was a furrow in his brow that made him look deeply concerned about something.

Though, from what she’d learned being friends with Cherry—Linden—if she were an older adult in her life she’d probably be deeply concerned as well. Or maybe it was the students.

“Do either of you know what’s going on here?” he asked after a moment, nodding at the crowd.

“Youthful hijinks keeping us from our dinner,” said Linden, grinning easily. She’d released some of the tension in her shoulders since Nicholas’s arrival, but at the same time seemed a little more on edge, like she was anticipating something. She took a deep, exaggerated breath, and pushed her hands into her jean pockets. “Do you know what that smell is?”

Nairi exchanged a faintly puzzled look with Nicholas, though his looked a little more exasperated. “Cheap beer?” she tried.

Linden sniggered. “Yeah, we called it ‘Eau de Freshie’ when I was in school,” she said, tossing her head to give the students behind them a speculative, almost mean look. They were still yelling enthusiastically, and she gestured at them. “It’s no longer funny, anyway. How many of these assholes do you reckon I have to beat up to let us get through?”

“I’m sure it doesn’t need to come to that,” said Nairi, her mouth twitching a little at the side.

Nicholas shot her a grateful look. “From the looks of things someone has already called the police, I’m sure they’ll be dispersed presently,” he said with a nod towards a pissed off looking woman standing by the crosswalk, phone jammed up against her ear.

“The cops always take fucking forever,” complained Linden, running a hand through her hair, foot tapping impatiently. “Come on Nick, you actually like, made a reservation and now we’re gonna miss it.”

“Linden I’m reasonably certain the staff can see what’s happening from where they’re standing,” said Nicholas, irritation creeping into his tone. “A little patience will not kill you, please do not start a fistfight with a teenager.”

Linden grinned at him, stretching her arms out in front of her chest. “I’m like, pretty certain the one with the airhorn is at least twenty.”

“Linden.”

“Well, I mean,” said Nairi speculatively, eyeing the students. “All you really have to do is be flashier than them.”

One of the running students fell out of pitch with their friends, and someone complained in her peripheral. A car door slammed and there was the crunch of footsteps on gravel followed by a huff as someone else joined the spectators. Linden turned her grin back to Nairi. “Yeah? You got an idea?”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, stepping up to Linden and reaching past her into the car window.

The other items she wanted were on the front seat, and Linden’s grin only widened as Nairi pulled them out. The baseball bat was wooden and well used, with a long crack threatening to split it clean open and letter stickers in the world’s ugliest font spelling ‘LINDE’ down the length. There was a clean spot amongst the built-up grime under the ‘E’. The bottle of lighter fluid was about half full, and Nairi held the bat out in front of her to squirt the contents over it liberally, splattering the asphalt in front of them as she did so.

She reached around Linden, extending the same familiarity she’d been receiving from her for the last two weeks, and pulled the lighter out of her back pocket.

The bat lit up easily and Nairi twisted it around to hold it upright, offering it to Linden. Linden looked at her, wide eyed, and took the bat. She placed her other hand on Nairi’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “You get me,” she said with warmth, before throwing her head back and cackling loudly, sprinting towards the crowd of students with the bat raised over her head.

Nicholas, next to her, made a faint, strangled noise. Behind her was a scoff and a loud voice. “Well. I’m guessing you must be Nairi.”

She turned and came face to face with an older woman in a rumpled men’s dress shirt and glasses who was glaring at her. She had red hair, natural as opposed to Linden’s box dye, and it was plaited out of the way to keep her tired face clear. Grey blue eyes stared down Nairi under her stern brow, and she uncrossed her arms to step forward into Nairi’s personal space. She was stocky and only a little shorter, barely having to raise her chin. “Just for reference,” she said, tone acerbic, “If I hear a single piece of news about young adult burn victims in the local urgent care facilities tomorrow? I will track you down and hold you personally responsible.”

She stepped away without waiting for an answer, glare sliding over to Nicholas. “You’re so right, Nicholas, I can see how much of a model presence she is,” she said in a way that even Nairi could read the sarcasm. “You remain a uniquely terrible judge of character.”

She strode across the street in the wake of Linden’s chaos. The students had mostly scattered with cheers and yells, and the girl with the megaphone was doubled over laughing in her shopping cart.

Nicholas was very slowly turning red, staring at Nairi with an unreadable expression. She coughed slightly and spun on one foot to follow the others across the street, trying to swallow her irritation at their judgement.

#serial fiction #series honey tree #book muay thai #104 #lgbt fiction

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 15

15. can’t buy happiness

Chapter Summary: Elektra’s record deal brings a windfall of cash into the lives of the band members, and as a former runaway, Lola’s not sure what to do with her newfound, legitimate salary. tommy moves in, the band meets doc, and they make it clear that lola’s staying on as part of the team. vince and lola have a moment that turns into a night which ends up interrupted by tommy but it all works out.

Warnings: drug use, drinking, implied/referenced nsfw, some violence, it’s 7am and this is super all over the place im so sorry omg. also this ABSOLUTELY follows the movie and not the book/real life

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @antisocialfictionhoe @obsessivesky @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite @colsons-crue @marvelismylifffe @lilytalebi @glitterdreamsz @freddiessmallnipples @crazysaladchopshop @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @dramatique-moi @missqueeniewrites @calspixie @aryssav @catsoo12 @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent @shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22 @keepcalm-and-beyou @scarecrowmax @nicholeh7

{masterlist}

With the record deal comes cash, more of it than Lola had ever really considered in her life, and she suddenly feels like a kid again; uncertain, worried, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The others aren't like that, obviously, taking the opportunity to party as hard as they physically can between gigs, but most of her money goes into rent, bills, and fuelling her various drug and alcohol problems. Anything she couldn't afford, or anything she wanted that wasn't some sort of consumable, she usually stole or found on the street. Before Nikki, before the group home, she'd never had money of her own, any she would earn would be taken from her and "put into a college fund, so she could grow up and make dad proud" at least, that's what her mom told her. She had no idea where any of that money was now.

The point is, the band now had a payroll, and she was at the top of it, being paid an exorbitant amount for basically doing the same thing she'd been doing for the past few months. She kept most of it in a secure location in cash, having never been properly taught about basic adult tasks, like opening a bank account, but it worked for her, for now.

But, in all honesty, living with Nikki and Vince meant she actually didn't want for much. Clothes around the apartment were mostly communal property, apart from pants, which due to Lola's hips and thighs, and Nikki's height, meant they were the only items that weren't interchangeable between the three of them. Not long after, Nikki asks Tommy to move in, cites that they can afford half decent mattresses, and it would mean he could move out of his parents' house; he couldn't agree fast enough.

"Is it- you know, is it weird?" Lola overhears Tommy talking with Vince during practice, the two taking a smoke break out the front, looking out at the Strip as they leaned against the railing. The window's open and Lola's picking up bottles from around the apartment in preparation for the party that night, but she stops. They don't see her, neither of them looking out at the city, but she's worried that Tommy's going to be scared off before he even moves all of his shit in.

"What do you mean?" Vince asks, and Tommy just makes a vague noise that makes Vince laugh. "Lola? Do you mean 'cos of Lola?"

"Yeah, like isn't it weird, with her and Nikki, and you know," Tommy trails off, a little self consciously. It doesn't seem to bother the blonde, however, who hums for a moment.

"Dude, it's the same as not living here, 'long as you aren't the jealous type, you know?" Vince's grin was clear in his words, and Tommy huffed out a laugh, "go with the flow, you'll live longer." Vince claps him on the shoulder and Lola breathes a sigh of relief she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

Tommy adapts to their terrible, roach infested apartment fast, and for that Lola is grateful. She'd been worried, though she needn't have been.

"Dude, you don't work, why've you gotta leave?" He whines, his face pressed into her chest where she's sitting on his lap on the sofa, her duffel bag on her shoulder. Lola laughed, running her fingers through his hair, pulling back. When he looks up at her, his smile is sharp but there's something strangely soft shining in his eyes.

"So I can lift a quad box on my own," she murmured, and Tommy hummed appreciatively at the mental image, his hands sliding over the shiny material of her tights on her thighs. "I can already haul you dumbasses around and make it look easy," she smirked, "I need a challenge."

Tommy takes that as a challenge unto himself, and seems to make it hid personal mission in life to ride around on Lola's shoulders whenever the opportunity presented itself. His favourite was after gigs, at the bar, drunk and elated and on top of the world. Lola's a good base for stunts like this, and, not that she'll admit it out loud, enamoured enough with Tommy that she doesn't complain. Sometimes some of the other groupies at the bar, pretty waifish girls who cling to the band, give her dirty, confused looks, but she doesn't care. For the moment, she's thankful for her broad shoulders, thick thighs, and stocky build; Tommy tends to squirm, even if he doesn't mean to, but Lola finds it easy to keep him balanced.

There's parties at their house almost every night now; if it's not a party, it's practice, and they're in the recording studio every few days working on recording their first album. And Lola's there for all of it.

There's a hierarchy amongst the groupies of the Strip; girls who dated band members were at the top of the list, followed by girls who would see every show they could, followed by the more casual groupies, and Lola's always been in a sort of weird, grey area as she works with the bands, she's more in a league of her own. But there's no denying that with Motley Crue's success, and the nature of her relationship with them, Lola's found herself at the top of the hierarchy without even trying.

Beyond, she also gets along well with Zutaut; he respects her work ethic, and has a surprising penchant for partying, or at least, he seems to spend a fair amount of time at the parties the band held at their apartment. Lola blooms at parties. She's a hostess when she wants to be, not proud of the grubby, cramped apartment, but proud of herself, her boys, and the people they have in attendance. Mostly.

"Lola, baby," Vince catches her hand as she's making her way to the kitchen to grab a new drink for herself, and David Lee Roth, who'd taken up residence on their sofa for the night, her smile is bright, and she lets herself get pulled back to the table where the rest of the band had gathered, "you want a bump?" He asks, nudging Nikki who was cutting up lines of coke on a cymbal as they spoke. Lola hummed, deliberated for half a moment before she sat herself in Vince's lap, taking the cymbal as it was offered.

"Always," she grinned, making short work of the coke. She passes the cymbal back, trying to get back to her original task after giving him a quick kiss.

"You're always rushin' off," he mused, and Lola gave a small smile, getting to her feet.

"'cos I've got people to entertain, ass to kiss, I see you lot every day," her smile turns a little pleased, a little catty, "excuse me if I don't turn down a request from Diamond Dave."

As it turns out, she doesn't have time to even get back to the Van Halen singer before some random asshole tries to score a hit from the band, before Mick shoves him out of the way. The man, who's relatively wasted already, crashes into the wall, into the nice, ornate mirror that Lola had fished out of a dumpster a few months ago, knocking it off the wall and shattering it over Dave's head. He seems unperturbed, merely picking glass from his hair, but the rest of Motley Crue are on their feet in moments.

"Chill out, asshole, it's cool," the guy slurs, stumbling to his feet as Nikki's already yelling at him. Lola carefully puts both drinks she'd collected onto their table, slotting herself in to stand between Vince and Tommy, her expression cold; the hostess in her had left, only to be replaced with the security detail in her.

"Cool?" Nikki snarled, "that is David Lee Roth; how about you show a little respect or get the fuck out." He demanded, practically towering over the other man, who seemed high or drunk enough to not be intimidated.

"Make me, motherfucker," the man snapped, shoving Nikki, who went stumbling back. Lola's ready to vault the table, or at the very least, step around Vince, but she doesn't seem to need to, as a stocky man who looks out of place steps up and punches the other man in the face, pinning him with a foot on his neck, holding the man's hand behind his back. Lola feels a rush of respect towards this newcomer. He smiles at the bewildered faces of the band members, his eyes bright.

"You fellas are gonna need a manager." He grins, much to the confusion of the others, before he nods at the glass covered musician on the sofa, nodding in familiarity, "hey, Dave."

"What's everybody looking at?" He mutters in response, and the tension breaks, the rest of the party goers laugh and go back to their own conversations. Lola ferries Dave his drink and he thanks her with a half smile, but her mind's too focused on getting the rowdy drunkard from her house.

"Oh, good, you met Doc," Zutaut tells them with his trademark, nervous enthusiasm, shouldering his way through the crowd to the scene of the commotion.

"I can take it from here," Lola gestures to the man on the floor, and Doc raises an eyebrow at her. He gives her a quick look over and hands over the other man's raised hand, stepping back.

"He works with James Brown, Kiss, you name it," Zutaut's still smiling, clapping Doc on the shoulder, despite the way Mick's expression is souring.

"Fuckin' hate Kiss."

Lola yanks the man to his feet, misses most of the rest of their exchange as she holds both his arms behind his back with one hand, holding his collar with the other as she pushes him to the door. He's yelling, slurring, hollering at her for having the gall to try and kick him out. He wriggles, tries his hardest to break her grip, even as she's shoving him out of their window onto the landing outside.

"If you don't shut the fuck up," Lola grunted, expression twisted into something resembling disgust as she had her hands on the man's ass, pushing roughly as he refused to go willingly through the window, "I'm gonna knock you the fuck out, and drag you down the stairs myself, you'll wake up in a dumpster and I'll be-" with a final shove, he was finally through. Landing face first, he scrambles to his feet, trying to get back in, but Lola's already climbed out after him, "laughing." She breathes after the exertion of getting him out, "I'll be laughing."

"Fuck you." He slurs, stumbling. It's all too easy for Lola to simply grab one of his wrists and start to drag him down the stairs. He's too focused on not falling down the stairs at the pace she's setting to try and attack or break free. He's still mumbling curses, but he's already seemed to have forgotten why he was angry by the time she's got him back on the footpath outside of the building. Turning him to face her, she holds him by the shoulders, looking him very seriously in the eye.

"If you come back here, I'm gonna cut you with part of that mirror you broke," she tells him, voice level and matter-of-fact. He blinks, frowns, hiccups. She has a whole rant planned out in her head, but it would be wasted on him. Instead, she spins him around three times to disorientate him, and sends him off down the sidewalk. He's got no fight left in him, thankfully, and he seems happy to trail away.

Lola groans and heads back to the party.

"I spent years trying to find a good, gold-edged mirror," she groans once she's back inside apartment, draping herself over Nikki where he's sat back at the table, resting her chin on top of his head. She's interrupting a conversation with Doc, but she can't bring herself to care.

"And this is -?" Doc gestures to a now pouting Lola. She's leaning heavily against him, her arms wrapped loosely around him. One of Nikki's hands finds hers, without even breaking eye contact with Doc, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist.

"Lola Gone; she's our security detail." Nikki's voice doesn't leave room for argument, but Lola's expression is smug when Doc's gaze flicks to it.

"Our roadie, too," Mick chimes in, before taking a sip from his beer, his tone just as resolute as Nikki's.

"Best roadie in LA," Tommy adds, inclining both his head and his drink towards Lola, and her smile softens a little at that.

"Yeah, she's the one I was telling you about over the phone; the assistant," they all hear it when Zutaut leans over to mutter to Doc, and the manager nodded seriously for a moment, considering her. He wasn't frowning, just... contemplative.

"She's pretty integral to this whole thing, man," Vince fills in the dead air, and then all four members of Motley Crue, and Lola herself, were all staring down Zutaut and Doc.

"If she's what's been keeping the wheels turning, show-to-show, I wouldn't dream of getting rid of her," Doc smiles a carefully cultivated, show business smile, and Lola gave him her snake charmer smile in return, all teeth and the promise of a bigger bite. "You'll have to excuse me, Miss Gone, I'm not personally acquainted with your work, but I suppose I should have recognised you; your reputation precedes you." And Lola's not quite sure how to take that. Raising an eyebrow, she watches Doc's lips quirk into the barest smile, and he doesn't elaborate, but he compliments her on how well she was able to deal with the guy who broke the mirror.

Lola leaves them to it after that, grabs her now lukewarm drink and sweetly asks for a seat by Diamond Dave; the groupie who's curled herself up by him takes one look at Lola and moves, taking a seat on Dave's other side, on the arm of the sofa, making room for Lola. Lola gives the girls a sweet smile, holding out her hand for the girl, and when the girl takes it, Lola presses a kiss to the back of her hand, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

"Thank you, babe," Lola tells her, as sincerely as she can manage, before dropping her hand and nudging Dave's shoulder gently, "she's so sweet, isn't she?" She asks him pointedly. He looks up from the photoframe from which he was snorting up coke, passing it to Lola before looking up at the now flustered groupie. "Cute, too," Lola mentions with absolutely no tact, before doing a line, but he's not picky, and the groupie was quickly turning red.

She knows she has a chance if she wants to get in with the both of them, or whoever Dave ends up with, but her heart's not in it. She stays where she is for the moment because he's got some incredibly high quality blow, but her mind keeps playing the band's words over in her head; they may have overstated how valuable to the process overall - technically any roadie could do her job, just less efficiently - but it makes her feel strangely warm. Pleased.

Vince catches her smiling to herself, bopping along to music filtering in from the record player as she weaves in between people, trying to get to the fridge, and he smiles back at her when her gaze meets his. It's fond and kind in equal measure. Zutaut and Doc have dispersed into the crowd, and Tommy and Nikki are excitedly babbling over each other across Vince, and Mick's probably gone to lie down.

But Vince is watching Lola as she's dancing along to David Bowie, and he can't stop smiling.

"You guys like having me around," Lola laughed, low and a little awed, leaning against the railing on the landing outside. Vince holds out his lighter, lights the cigarette that's poised between her lips, and smirks. Before he can even begin to tease her for her terribly worded thought, she waived him off, clarifying, "like I know you guys like me, but like, it's nice to hear, you know?" Her smile was so pleased it almost bordered on smug and she pushed herself off the railing, stepping into his space and wrapping her arms around him. "Integral," she murmured, a teasing edge to her words, "where'd you learn a ten dollar word like that?"

"I could take it back," Vince raised his eyebrows at her, though he's pulling her closer, "go back in there, tell Doc you're a dime-a-dozen." But Lola doesn't seem perturbed by his obvious bluff, in fact, she's smiling like the cat who got the cream.

"But you wouldn't," she practically sang, though her voice was barely louder than a murmur, "you wanna keep me around and I'm not letting you take that back."

There's a moment where his expression softens; he's endeared by her cockiness, a fact of which she is well aware, but he can't help the way he smiles at her sometimes. Or perhaps it's that he knows she turned down a shot with David Lee Roth; it doesn't really matter if it was for anyone else specifically, she's with him here and now.

"Wouldn't want to, even if I could." Sometimes he's a sap, knows exactly what to say, how to push her buttons, but it's never malicious; he likes the way she smiles, the way she kisses him, the way she pulls him close. It's clear she's proud, it manages to bleed through in all her actions though she doesn't say it; she's reverential in the way she treats him, starry-eyed and adoring.

The only problem comes in the shape of Tommy, stumbling into the room, practically incoherent as the party's winding down. It's well past two and Lola and Vince were actually almost asleep.

"Did I-" Tommy hummed for a moment, before yawning loudly, "interrupt?" He was already struggling to pull off his leather pants, his shirt having been lost sometime earlier, as it was want to do.

"Just trying to get to sleep, dude," Vince hummed, tucking his face into the crook of Lola's neck, his chest pressed to her back. Lola yawned, her eyes staying firmly closed. They, however, did not stay this way, as a mostly pantless Tommy managed to bipass his own bed in the struggle with his pants, and fall directly on top of the pair. He lands with an 'oof' with his pants caught on the heel of one foot.

"Sorry."

Lola grumbles and Vince hits him on the back of the head, but Tommy doesn't move from the bed, just sits up and pulls off his pants with one final tug, before laying back down, this time beside them. Silence, very awkward silence, fills the room.

"You're in the wrong bed, Tommy," Vince tells him very pointedly. Tommy sighs and swears, but just shifts a little, as if getting more comfortable.

"How come your sheets are nicer than mine?"

"Because I paid top fuckin' dollar for these sheets the minute I could afford them," Vince informs him with a sigh. Lola hums, but reaches out, resting her hand on his hip, fingertips gently brushing circles against the bare skin of his upper thigh. Even in underwear he was still more decent than either Lola or Vince, who just had the blanket for modesty.

"Dude, you know we were fucking, right?" Lola asks, biting back a laugh. Tommy sighs.

"Yeah," he contemplates for a moment, "I should move, shouldn't I?" But he didn't. Instead, he shuffled back. "Is it weird if I stay?"

"At this point nothing's weird," Vince snickered, "I've seen you do some fucked up shit, man, and I'm too tired for it to be weird." He admitted, and Tommy let out a triumphant laugh.

"Oh, fuck that is too true, man; fuck this band is awesome," the grin is clear in his words, though neither of the other two can quite decipher exactly what he means by that, but then he's pulling the blanket up over himself, letting Lola pull him close.

"I mean, it's a bit weird, but that's mainly because you're still wearing socks," Lola tells him, and automatically Tommy starts wriggling, trying to pull at his socks, "now- oof, god why is your ass so bony? - you're making it weird, dude, leave it." Lola half laughs, pulling him back to her, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade, as Tommy tries to apologise for his socks, "just shut up and be the little spoon."

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #Vince Neil #Tommy Lee #vince neil imagine #tommy lee imagine #Motley Crue #motley crue imagine #The Dirt #the dirt imagine #platinum fic #the angry lizard writes

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chimmy-joos · 6 years

Text

The Proposal part 5 |M|

Description: You’re tired of being alone for years without a boyfriend so you propose a deal to Jimin. Little did you know your little affair will unfold to be more than secret kisses at night.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 12.2K

Tags: angst, smut, fluff, swearing, slight sub!Jimin, masturbation, slight cum play, oral sex

Part 1 2 3 4

A/N: for starters, I apologize for the long wait. I had a hard time planning this chapter out and put myself in a rut because of it. Word of advice, don’t think about it too much. Just write. I know a lot of you have been asking about this update and I regret how long it took, but in any case, I hope you enjoy this chapter and im sorry please don’t kill me

Three Months. It had been three whole months since the last time Jimin had spoken to you.

To be more exact, it had been two months and twenty seven days, but Jimin didn’t count the days where you walked into class during the middle of a lecture because you didn't look at him—not even bothering to acknowledge his existence. To a degree, Jimin respected the way you exhibited pride. So much so that he might call himself a masochist for wishing you would glance at him just once, even if it was a glare. At least you still knew he existed. Other than that, there was absolutely no contact. He wondered if you blocked him, or worse, deleted his number. The last thing you had said to him was, 'let's end this' and to top it off, it wasn't even in person. Jimin reread his messages with you over and over again as his mind thought of millions of ways to once again say hello.

Jimin knew he was at fault, but he couldn't muster up the courage to apologize because… What would you say? You were too strong and independent of a woman to give into his apology so easily, but at the same time you were so sweet and merciful, it gave Jimin all the more hope to believe that you would forgive him.

It was a shameful thing for Jimin to admit that he spent the beginning of summer vacation moping around his apartment when he should be out enjoying the little window of freedom he had, but his motivation to do anything was at a new low. He didn't know how to feel, frankly. It was the first time Jimin had ever felt this way towards a girl, dealing with these foreign heart twinges and clammy hands like a middle schooler trying to whoo his crush.

It had only been three months, but there wasn't a day Jimin didn't think of you.

—

“Jimin, you have to stop this.” Taehyung snapped at Jimin as he stood wit his hands crossed over his chest. Taehyung was blocking Jimin’s view of late night re-runs of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and he wasn’t very appreciative of the new view in front of him: Taehyung’s light blue striped boxers. Well, in all fairness, Jimin had no right to complain when he too was wearing bright red Calvin Klein briefs. When three college boys live in a small apartment with no women coming in or out of here, there really isn’t a reason to dress to impress anyone.

“Get your dick out of my face.” Jimin glared menacingly at his best friend. Taehyung stood his ground and even had the audacity to stick his hips out.

“Not until you get off of this couch. If you sit here any longer, your ass will get flat and nobody will want to take you on a date.” Taehyung snickered. Jimin knew he was simply trying to get under his skin and he wasn’t going to allow it. He stood up and shoved Taehyung in the chest with his arm with enough force for him to lean back. Jimin glared him from the same eye-level now.

“Don’t spite me, Tae. I’m not in the mood.” He snarled. Taehyung, with a smile on his lips, gently lowered Jimin’s arm and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“I don’t mean any harm, brother,” he said. Jimin scoffed and whipped around. He turned off the t.v. and retreated to his room, Taehyung trudging shortly behind, still casually shirtless with his hands shoved in his boxers. (At the sides, of course.) Jimin fell onto his desk chair and let it swirl him around while Taehyung jumped on his bed, messing up the blankets more than it already was. “You need to stop this, dude.”

“I literally haven’t done anything, what are you talking about?” Jimin threw his hands up in distress.

“That’s exactly it!” Taehyung straightened his back and clasped his hands together, as if he was about to drop some real shit. “You’ve been dragging your depressed ass around this apartment and it feels like someone died in here every time I come home! What you need to do is get out of this house—maybe go on a drive or go to the gym.”

“Which I do very often,” Jimin intervened, pointing to his car keys on top of his desk. Jimin stretched his arm out and gestured at his muscular bicep. “Just because I sit at home more often now doesn’t mean that I’m neglecting other shit. At least I’m still paying rent.”

“Jimin, as your roommate, I couldn’t care less about what you do as long as you’re contributing, but as your best friend, I can’t stand seeing you like this. You can’t forget who you are just because of some girl.”

Again, Jimin glared. “She’s not just some girl.”

“Oh really? Then why haven’t I seem her in last three months?” Taehyung raised a brow and that immediately shut Jimin up. "I've known you since high school and I know how you are with girls that you like. You always find a way to fuck shit up with them."

Jimin couldn't even begin to argue because if anyone could prove him wrong, it was Taehyung, the one man who actually knew Jimin. Feeling content with Jimin's silence, Taehyung continued.

"Remember what happened with Soo Rin?"

Jimin rolled his eyes and groaned; his neck rolled around. "Soo Rin was talking to like, 50 guys at once."

"True, but that's not my point. My point is how you stopped talking to her because your pathetic ass felt too insecure about her not liking you and what happened afterwards? You found out that she was waiting for you to ask her out."

"And then I found out that she was talking to 50 guys."

"Yeah, but would Y/N really do that?" Again, Jimin kept silent and Taehyung knew he was right. Then, he straightened up abruptly.

"Okay fine, lets say I make up with Y/N. Then what? Things won't be the same." Jimin shook his head, remembering his own faulty actions. Taehyung shrugged at him, lips stretched into a linear smile.

“You start over. Make things right with her, actually create a connection with her. You know, friends without benefits.” Taehyung suggested. Little did he know that that common ground had already been established by long phone calls that lasted throughout the night where you spilled more than what you should’ve. Jimin didn’t mind in the slightest. He was more or less thankful that you were such an open book. It saved him the effort and hardship of breaking down your trust walls.

Jimin tilted his head, looking at Taehyung with big, beady eyes. “Do you really think that’s going to work?” He asked with a sliver of hope in his voice.

Taehyung shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s better than sitting on your ass all day blasting old school R&B slow jams, don’t you think?” He suggested and he crossed his legs. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Jimin didn’t answer, but instead wrinkled his brows in a skeptical way, as if to say, what are you up to this time?

“Do you love her?” Taehyung asked. The word love sounded so childish and foreign to him, but then again it was Jimin who couldn’t comprehend the concept of love. He had never felt this way about anybody before and it threw him in for a loop. He sighed deeply, and rubbed his face with his hands and raked them through his hair.

“I don’t know anything about love, dude.” Jimin laughed at himself and shook his head in disbelief.

“No ones an expert. I say, take my advice because she’s a really great girl. Like—a thousand times better than any other girls you’ve dated.”

Jimin scoffed. “Yeah, I know.”

Of course he knew. He knew more than anyone about how you can completely change the room’s atmosphere with a single jingle of your laughter. He hasn’t met a single person—a single soul in the world much like yours. You see the world differently, but you’re so accepting of everything. You’re truly a saint and Jimin can’t help but feel his encounter with you was a trial to test his capabilities to cherish someone. And he even managed to fuck that up. Then again, these infatuated thoughts of you that muddled his brain were only affecting him. He knew neither Taehyung nor Jungkook—not a single person could possibly understand what he was going through and how much Jimin wanted to rip out his own heart and toss it into the trash, promptly setting it on fire so he would never have to go through this pain ever again.

But the pain Jimin felt in his chest every morning when he woke up, weighing his body down like a dark energy clung to him, whispering everyday into his ear—tormenting him. He was a sorry excuse for a man who couldn’t even come to terms with his own feelings.

Taehyung noticed Jimin turn stiflingly silent. He had never seen Jimin like this and it pained him to watch his best friend look so... depressed. He was never like this, but then again, Jimin had also never been in love with someone. Well, Jimin argued over whether or not he was in love, but Taehyung was perceptive enough to notice the change in Jimin’s spirit. It was as if he was an entirely new person from high school and even his early years in college. He was bubblier, smiled more and although Jimin was rarely home nowadays, Taehyung had a hunch that he was spending his time valuably.

Taehyung clapped his hands loudly, jolting Jimin out of his silence. “Alright! I have a surprise for you, brother! Tonight, I am taking you to a party. Nothing too serious, it’ll just be our close friends.” He proposed, grinning enthusiastically. Jimin quirked his rectangular eyes as a series of emotions passed through him.

“Tae... I don’t know if I’m ready to do something like that yet.” He replied honestly; Jimin’s voice was soft and quivered on edge. His hands were sewed tightly together and he was bent over, elbows resting on his exposed thighs.

“It’s just a suggestion. I won’t force you or anything, but I’m inviting you as your best friend. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore,” Taehyung said sincerely. Jimin stole a glance at him as he stood from the bed and headed to the door. Taehyung stopped in the middle of the doorway, grasping the wooden frame and craned his neck back. “Feel better, okay?” He reassured and softly clicked the door shut behind him.

Later that night, Taehyung texted Jimin the address of the party with an attached message that wrote, “just in case you’re feeling up to it”. He was so grateful to have someone like Taehyung in his life and he knew for a fact that he wasn’t deserving of someone as caring as him. Taehyung put in so much effort to pull Jimin off his ass and here he still sat the morning of the party with dark bags that hung from his droopy eyes and greasy, messy hair. God, he was a hot mess.

“Aren’t you coming with?” Jungkook asked as he pushed open the door to Jimin’s room. He was dressed up in a black v-neck with an equally dark jacket thrown over and green, army pants. Jungkook was running his fingers through his permed hair to style it.

Jimin on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged in his swivel chair with headphones around his neck and was playing The Weeknd’s Wasted Times on full volume. At this point, it might’ve jumped up to his most played song. Jimin lowered the volume to hear Jungkook better.

“If you get ready now, you can still make it to the pre-game.” The younger boy taunted as he straightens his collar. Taehyung had left earlier in order to help prepare for the party considering he was on alcohol duty. Jimin’s lips formed a straight line. First it was Taehyung, now Jungkook needed to stick his nose into his business? How low had Jimin sunken?

“Be honest with me, Jungkook. Do you think it’s best for me to be going to a party right now?” He gestured to his face and down to his disorderly attire.

“Yes,” Jungkook replied bluntly. “I’m not like Taehyung either. I’m not going to baby you and let you do as you wish forever.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin sharpened his tone.

“You let an amazing woman slip through your fingers and now you’re facing the consequences—which you should be. You’ve respectfully atoned for your mistakes, but it’s time to turn yourself around. I know Y/N would hate seeing you like this.”

“Which is exactly why I have been avoiding her at all costs.”

“Is it? Or is it the other way around?” Jungkook snapped back. Jimin didn’t respond. “Either way, I can’t bear seeing you like this. Come out for a drive sometime.” Jungkook said and closed the door behind him. Jimin waited until he heard the front door open and shut, meaning that Jungkook had left.

Both Taehyung and Jungkook were right. Everything they said, be it comforting or not, was just to encourage Jimin to look past his faults, his insecurities, and that damned possessive mindset that was the quintessential factor towards his downfall. He knew he had to change, but was he capable of doing so? Was he able to pull himself out of this dark, negative pit that prevented him from seeing the light of a future that in his ideal world, promised you?

It was an entirely new experience for Jimin to be standing in front of the bathroom mirror, smoothing down his navy green long sleeve repetitively. It was as if his thin silver chain was never centered correctly and there was always a strand of hair that was out of place. Had he always been this nit-picky about his appearance?

Nonetheless, he had put in this much effort to look like this and he wasn’t the type of man to give up halfway. He had to go to to this party now. Jimin told himself that if the party was anything near terrible, he’d find the closest exit and leave while snatching a bottle of alcohol to drink in the security of his room walls. He also decided to take an Uber because he had no idea how much he would be drinking tonight. Jimin could feel his anxiety rise in his stomach as he approached the house. He had never been in this neighborhood before, but he could tell he was near because the cars along the sidewalk were increasing. He took a deep breath as the driver pulled to a halt.

“Alright man, this is it,” the driver said and gave Jimin a concerned look. “You good, man?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Thanks.” He replied back hastily and got out of the car. Once the Uber car drove off, Jimin was left to his own devices. He walked towards the house with heavy steps and it felt like eternity before Jimin reached the front door; he simply stared at the doorknob. Why was he so nervous? This might’ve been the hundredth party he’s attended so it shouldn’t even be a big deal. Were you feeling these nerves every time Jimin asked you to come to a party? And how you were always reluctant to go? God, it was like he was being reminded of how big of a dick he was every single day.

Jimin bundled up his nerves and pushed his way through the door; loud hip-hop music vibrated through Jimin’s skull. He scanned the foyer of the house and took in his new surroundings. The interior was definitely fancier than he had expected.

“Just our close friends, my ass...” Jimin muttered under his breath. Perhaps he had been too nervous to notice the posh neighborhood he had entered. Redwood laminated floors were laid all throughout the house and pristine white walls reached to the high ceiling. It was a bit overwhelming so Jimin maneuvered through the clusters of people to find a beer or some Hennessy. Anything would suffice.

Jimin stumbled into the kitchen area and managed to find a cold beer in the fridge. He cracked it open and gulped the bittersweet nectar until it was half empty. The taste lingered on his tongue and he smacked his lips. It was like being reminded of his partying days. Jimin roamed the house idly with a drink in his hand to keep himself occupied. He searched for Jungkook or Taehyung since they were not there to greet him at the door which meant they were deeper inside the house possibly already drunk off their asses. Jimin turned the corner and entered the living room, fashionably furnished with black leather couches and even a fireplace topped with family photos framed in elegant frames. Luckily, he saw Jungkook sitting in the center of one couch; Jimin perked up brightly.

“Jungko—“ he called out and stopped himself short, his voice caught in the middle of his throat. Sitting on the end of the couch rolling a glass of wine in her hand was you. Your hair was braided and there was a small, flowery pin tucked behind your ear. You wore a tight, black dress with gold accents along the waist and thin straps that rest over your small shoulders. You wore a long gold necklace with a small charm at the end that dipped into the crevice of your breasts. Your smooth legs were pointed downward as you sat on the edge of the couch; red bottom heels shaped your feet and added a sexy flare to your outfit. Jimin stood frozen in place—his eyes wider than they’ve ever been as the room slowed down. You were the center of his attention and suddenly, it felt at that moment, Jimin wasn’t surrounded by swarms of people. At that moment, it was like the first time he had ever laid eyes on you and fell in love all over again. You were so close—literally just a few feet away from him, yet it felt like you were worlds away.

Your bright laughter yanked Jimin from his thoughts and he frantically retreated behind a small group of people and then slowly hid behind a wall. Why he was hiding was entirely unknown to him. It wasn’t like this was your party or he was avoiding you. He simply thought… it would be best if you didn’t see him in his lowest state. But as Jimin closed his eyes, he could still very vividly make out the curvatures of your dress and your exposed collarbone, the light but beautiful makeup that matched so elegantly with your dress—

Jimin’s jaw slacked and he looked down at his crotch; his cock was semi-hard in his jeans and he could just make out the outline of his erection. Jimin’s hand flew to pull his shirt down and cover his erection and looked around for the nearest vacant bathroom. Unfortunately, the first floor of the house was so cluttered with people, Jimin fled upstairs in hopes of finding a bathroom up there. He climbed the stairs with long strides, shouldering through the people blocking the top of the stairs. Jimin saw a door that was slightly ajar and he ran for it, slamming the door open. There was a couple inside; the girl was perched on the counter while the man stood between her legs with his arms wrapped around her waist as they kissed. When Jimin entered, the two pulled away in shock.

“Get out.” He huffed with a crazed look in his eye. The couple was reluctant at first and gave each other a strange look. “Now.” He growled and the two then hurriedly gathered themselves and fled the bathroom which Jimin locked on their way out. He fell back against the door and rest his head against the wood while raising his shirt with trembling hands. He peered down at his erection that wasn’t going away. Jimin cursed under his breath and breathed heavily. He couldn’t walk out there with his dick half hard in his jeans, but there was no other way of getting rid of it besides taking a cold shower, which was entirely out of the question.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck me.” Jimin cursed at himself and gnawed on his lower lip as he daintily traced the outline of his cock through his jeans with the pads of his fingers. His breathe hitched as he moved his way to the tip, swirling small circles around it. Jimin suppressed a moan in his throat and allowed his eyes to close. He imagined you in your black dress again and how your ass looked in that tight, black satin. In his formulated fantasy, you were slowly sliding the dress up your thighs until he saw a black thong—god, your ass looked so plump he wanted to caress it and pinch it.

Jimin unbuttoned his jeans with nimble fingers and reached into his underwear to cup his balls that had made his underwear hot and sweaty. He fondled them in his hands before sliding his hand along his hard shaft, slowly tracing out the veins. Jimin pinched the swollen head of his cock and whimpered, lurching forward from the sudden pleasure that jolted through him. He inhaled deeply and took his cock from out of his underwear; a thin string of precum had dampened a spot in his clothes. He swiped his thumb through it and smeared the liquid over the red tip.

Jimin bit down hard on his lip to keep from making any noises as he started to massage his cock slowly with just the pressure of his fingers. He pulled the skin around his cock down to the base before sliding back up to the tip. The slow movements were just enough to pump more blood into his cock, but Jimin loved the teasing pleasure he was giving himself.

“A-Ahh… Y/N…” he moaned your name in a raspy voice; one hand slipping under his shirt to touch his abdomen. He started moving faster and wrapped his entire hand around his cock to give it more elongated motions. Jimin hissed when he enveloped the reddened head and pulled downward. His hips would jerk forward every time he reached the base and it wasn’t long until he was thrusting his hips into his own hand. His moans were harder to silence and came out as broken grunts of pleasure.

He nestled his head against the door and he could feel the back of his hair get tangled from the friction. He had spent so much time styling it to perfection and now he couldn’t care less as he was preoccupied stroking his dick in one hand while the other grazed the skin of his stomach. He recalled the night he last was able to see you, to caress your moonlit skin. It had been so long, but he could still remember the allure of your honey voice and how you beckoned for him. He remembered tracing his gentle hand over the blades of your shoulder and down the valley of your back; your gorgeous, plump breasts that he grasped in his hands while rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Jimin slid his fingers down his bare naval to cup his scrotum, giving his balls a firm squeeze. An involuntary loud grunt broke though his lips and he started stroking his cock in a faster pace; the prominent squelching sounds caused by his energetic movements filled Jimin’s head, evoking more memories of his after-dusk affairs that he shared with you. He imagined sliding his length over your tight, wet slit while staring into your starry eyes. Your lips—he couldn’t believe such a beautiful smile could utter such sinful words and oh, how he loved kissing them. He loved holding your face in his hand, brushing your hair behind your ears while your nose squished against his by how passionate you would get.

He wrapped his slippery hand around the end of his penis and snapped his hips wildly while gripping the base of his shaft. He pierced the skin of his bottom lip from his teeth but Jimin, in that moment of ecstasy, didn’t feel any pain. Only the blinding white pleasure that flashed behind his eyes. He called out your name once more in a trembling, needy breath before spurts of white, hot cum unleashed from his urethra. Jimin cupped his hand over the tip, but his energetic cum flew past his open fingers. His chest heaved and his whole body twitched from the aftermath, but he didn’t dare open his mouth to release the moans of pleasure.

Jimin slowly blinked his eyes open and adjusted to the light of the bathroom from the darkness behind his eyelids that he were squeezing so tightly shut. He glanced down at the mess he made—milky spunk coated his palms, darkened his jeans and he even managed to get it on the tiled bathroom floor.

“Shit!” He spat and pulled his drawers up with his clean hand before grabbing sheets of toilet paper and wiped his cum shamefully. After flushing the remnants in the toilet, Jimin washed his hands once, maybe three times simply because of the guilt that settled uncomfortably in his stomach. He had never, not once been able to cum by just thinking about someone. Masturbating to visual stimulation was easy and sure, everyone watched porn, but to be able to get hard by seeing you in a dress and cumming by fantasizing about holding you again was different. He felt wrong, despite how good it felt. Jimin splashed freezing cold water on his face to cleanse him of the sinful feeling and scrubbed the tiled floor so hard he got a cramp in his hand.

He left the bathroom with his head hung low so he wouldn’t be noticed and fled downstairs. He didn’t want to stay any longer because Jimin was sure his face was beet red. However, as soon as he reached the bottom of the staircase, he bumped into someone. He stumbled forward and muttered a “my bad” over his shoulder, but barely stayed to sincerely apologize. He set his eyes on the door and his feet led him outside.

[Reader’s POV]

You stood on the tips of your heels to look over the crowds’ head, eyes darting around frantically. You were shoved by the people around you because of your small stature, but you still hunted for that familiar head of jet black hair. Could it be him? Could it be the man that appeared in your thoughts like a runaway dream? Or perhaps you were just chasing the ghost of a man that you used to know.

Eventually, you gave up on trying to find Jimin as you lost track of all the black hair in the mass of people. You were sure—almost positive that it was Jimin. There was no mistaking the familiar tone. You listened to his velvety voice nearly everyday and you could pick him out blindfolded by his breathing.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but there was no mistaking what you heard. You didn’t have much confidence despite the beautiful dress that you humbly modeled tonight, but you were confident that the voice belonged to Jimin.

You found your way back to the living room where a group of your friends were in the middle of a game of Mafia. You had already been killed off as a civilian so you went to refill your glass of wine. You rest your bum on the arm of the couch and sipped your drink while you waited for the game to finish. Jungkook, who had also been killed off in the beginning of the game because he was “too suspicious” (he was innocent by the way), slid into the seat next to you and looked up at you with beady eyes.

“How are you enjoying your night, Miss?” He asked. You gave a curt nod and sloshed your wine around in your glass.

“The night is still young and this is my fourth glass of wine, I’d say it’s going pretty well.” You replied. Jungkook laughed and rest his arm on your thigh. His large hand cupped your kneecap and he squeezed. Your eyes darted to his subtle hand that he laid on you.

“Then won’t you come home with me afterwards?” He said in a sultry voice. You tried not to visibly cringe at his words. Jungkook had been hitting on you on and off ever since you stopped talking to Jimin and you hated the fact that he was so quick to jump in front of the line. Jungkook was hot and you knew you should feel lucky that he was trying to impress you so hard, but you didn’t feel a single ounce of attraction towards Jungkook. And you weren’t petty enough to sleep with Jungkook to get revenge on Jimin. You couldn’t imagine going back into the same apartment where everything started.

You brushed his hand off and strained a soft smile. “I’m sorry, Jungkook, but you know I can’t do that.”

He pouted and if he had puppy dog ears, they would be wilted. “So it can’t be me? No matter how hard I try?”

“I’d be lying if I said I never gave it a thought, but I don’t think I’ll be looking for a relationship anytime soon.”

“Or at least, not with me, right?” He asked and you gave Jungkook a puzzled look. “Is it because of Jimin?”

You glared at the younger man. “Me being single has absolutely nothing to do with anyone and I would appreciate it if you didn’t associate my happiness with being in a relationship. I am perfectly fine by myself.” You snapped while clenching your wine glass in silent rage. Jungkook backed away with his hands up in defense.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I just thought I’d have a chance and shoot for it.” He apologized and you huffed.

“Well, as long as you understand,” you sipped your wine. “I don’t mean to be that girl, but how is he?”

“Jimin? Hah, that man hasn’t left his room in the longest time.” Jungkook scoffed while thinking back to earlier today when he tried to pry Jimin off his ass. “I invited him and I’m sure Taehyung did too, but who knows? That man hasn’t been willing to do anything with us lately.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but it must’ve been pretty bad,” Jungkook said and stopped himself short, giving you a side glance. “Sorry, too soon?”

“Not at all,” you shrugged and gulped down your glass of wine. You jumped off the arm of the couch and pulled down your dress over your ass. “I think I’m going to go.”

“So soon? But it’s so early.” Jungkook pouted as he watched you leave.

“Yes, well, if you must know I’ve never been one to stay long at parties.”

You hitched a ride with one of your friends that just so happened to be leaving at the same time. She dropped you off back home at your apartment and you took your time unwinding, stripping off your dress and throwing it on your chair to hang it up later. You undid your hair from its tight braid and let it fall loosely, the strong scent of shampoo emanated from your wavy locks. You wiped your makeup off and hopped into the shower because being in an extremely crowded area made you feel unnecessarily more sweatier than usual.

After showering, you were finally able to relax in bed, but even as you hugged your throw pillow and propped yourself up to finish the latest season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, your mind wandered elsewhere. What if Jimin had come to the party? What if you two had crossed paths without either of you knowing? And even if he did show, why would that matter to you?

How many times had you cried yourself to sleep in the past month? You forced yourself to stay awake thinking about what your life would be like if you hadn’t met Jimin. You’d probably end up alone—probably forever, still chasing a fantasy where you met the love of your life and lived happily ever after. You couldn’t sleep, because you knew that would never come true. Jimin didn’t know this, but he was able to give you hope. He made you believe you could chase your dreams and he stood there—right by your side, supporting you. How could you ever ask for anything more? How could you let such a supportive and caring man slip through your grasp so carelessly? If only you were a little more assertive or had a lot more faith in yourself, you could’ve told him how much he meant to you and how much you regretted hearing him leave. He was the only person that had ever shown you a single ounce of love, but of course you had to fuck it up. You fucked everything up. Maybe you were cashing in on the karma that you’ve complied over your lifetime. Maybe things will get better. Maybe in another life, you’d find another Jimin. Someone else that would make you feel as happy and wholesome as he did.

But in this life, you felt it was all over for you. You never had any luck in love and this was yet another example as to why you should never fall for someone again. It was a set up for disaster and you were bound to get hurt. So save the tears and hardships and the effort in making yourself feel pretty for someone else and bending your back for them to notice you. You were done with it.

Nonetheless, it was impossible to forget how gentle Jimin touched you—the first person to ever lay their hands on you and he held you like a fragile gem. You can still remember his touch and how it left a fiery trail on your skin. It’s almost impossible to get over the fact that the two of you, were at some point in time, more than friends. Behind those closed curtains and slow, rocking music, the two of you were lovers. You had to apologize in some way. Although you weren’t completely at fault for your separation, you felt ashamed for not being able to tell Jimin your true feelings and if you had... maybe none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have spent three months taking extra shifts at your job just to distract your mind from your problems.

At that moment, interrupting your television show was a knock at the door. It was soft and almost too quiet so you were unsure that you even heard it at all. You wondered if it was your roommate since she wasn’t home, but she had no reason to knock. She lived here, for goodness sake. So who else could it be?

You slowly stepped towards the door with light steps and stood on your toes to peer into the peephole. Your eyes widened upon seeing a head of black hair tucked underneath a grey hoodie. You planted your feet on the ground and pressed your fingertips against the door. What were you going to do? What was he doing here in front of your apartment? Were you ready to face him?

Another knock startled you and the vibrations on the door only made his presence that much more real. How long had it been since he was this close to you? A single piece of wood separated the two of you and if you opened it, you could see him. You could close the distance that had grown so, so far in the past three months.

“Y/N?” Jimin called out from behind the door. You gasped; the familiarity of your name rolling off his tongue reminded of how he whispered your name in your ear while your bodies were pressed together under the sheets. “Damn it, I knew she wasn’t home.” You heard him shift and panic overcame you.

“Wait!” You exclaimed through the door. “Don’t go!”

“Y/N? Is that you?” Jimin voice was louder now, as if he were standing right in front of you. You bumped your forehead against the door and curled your fingers inward.

“Yes, Jimin.”

Jimin’s breath stuttered. You were right behind that door—the courage he mustered hadn’t been in vain and he finally took the first step that would lead him to a better future, hopefully. “I—I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly. Do you have a moment? Can… we talk?”

Silence fell behind the door and he was afraid you had turned and left him speaking to himself. But your soft voice saved him.

“Sure. But the door stays closed.”

“That’s fine, I just wanted to get something off my chest.” Jimin inhaled deeply and ran his hand over the cold, hard wood. “I am… so sorry for everything I did and—and said that night. I was overreacting and scared that… you were going to be taken from me by some dick like Jungkook. But I realized that I was just being selfish and stupid and I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve told you earlier how much I care for you and how much you mean to me—I should’ve never let you cry and remembering that night keeps me up every night because I know everything was my fault and I just—I’m so… so sorry.” Jimin nestled his forehead against the door. His voice was so… weak. Like a cracked glass vase that would shatter any second. It trembled as if he were on the verge of tears.

You bit down on your quivering lip as a small whimper escaped. You had say it now, or your words were never going to see the light of day.

“I-I’m going to be honest with you, since we’re already on the subject.” You said through the door, your hand trembling in fright. “You’re quite immature for someone your age, Park Jimin. I can’t believe you could possibly think that I would do something as heartless as two-timing you, even though we weren’t explicit. How much faith do you have in me? I have never—ever considered any one else beside you!” You reached for the door handle with shaking hands and unlocked the door as you spoke the last words; the fluorescent lights in the hallway blinded you, but you opened it widely. Jimin stood there, frozen as he took in your words. When you opened the door, his wide eyes glistened with the sparkle of tears and darted to you. Your eyes were also lined with tears and you stood in the door way, breathing heavily.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hi.” You replied, one hand gripped the door handle tightly. Jimin’s eyes fell to his feet and he shifted from side to side.

“You know, you don’t have any reason to apologize. It was completely my fault.” He said in a serious tone. You shook your head and stepped towards him.

“No. I said some things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” You said as Jimin raised his head, a small smile formed over his thick lips.

“You’re too nice for your own good, you know?” His voice was softer than you’ve ever heard it and he spoke from his heart. He closed the gap and you were reminded of how broad Jimin was. He smelled of soap and the earthiness of rain and interestingly enough, pine. “So, can I take this as forgiveness?” He asked as traced your arm with his fingers. You softened your gaze and your lips stretched into a smile.

“Hmm, I think I need more than a few words.” You hummed. Jimin’s eyebrow rose playfully.

“Oh? Is that how it is?” He cradled your face in his hands and traced your soft cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes darted around your face and took in all of your features. The hair that fell over your eyes, the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks and how they shaped your glittering eyes.

“I know the order is all messed up and this was the first thing that should’ve come out my mouth the minute I started feeling this way,” Jimin ran his thumb over your bitten bottom lip and the imprinted the velvety texture into his brain. He looked deep into your eyes; his hands felt hot and sweaty and his throat threatened to close on him, but he had to get the words out. “Will you go out with me, Y/N?” Jimin asked as his eyebrows furrowed adorably. You inhaled sharply and your nose stung from the urge to cry right then. You nodded eagerly and grabbed his face, pulling him in and kissing him with such passion you almost knocked him backwards. You tasted like vanilla lip balm and your lips were unbelievably soft. He pulled you closer—the taste of your mouth was so intoxicating and addictive, he wanted to taste your lips forever. You gripped Jimin’s grey hoodie and deepened the kiss; you parted Jimin’s mouth and lapped at his tongue. Your breathy moans dripped into Jimin’s mouth and he drowned your sound out.

“I was so—“ he kissed you.

“—afraid—” another kiss.

“Of losing you.” Jimin said in between smooches and moved forward until your back hit the wall. You gasped and Jimin shut your lips with his again. His fingers were tangled in your hair the more intimate the kiss became.

“Jimin, we’re outside.” You moaned the moment you felt his fingers slide underneath your shirt, his touch burned your bare skin. Jimin nibbled on your lip before his hands slithered around your waist. His face fell into the crook of your neck and he stayed in that position, nuzzling his nose into your sweet smelling skin. Your hands found their way to his back and you pulled him closer, breathing in his scent.

“Can we go inside?” He mumbled just centimeters away from your ear, sending shivers through your body. Your grip on his hoodie tightened and you nodded shyly. You slipped your hand into his and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind him. You gathered his hoodie in your hand, balling it together and yanked Jimin down and crashed your lips into his. Jimin slammed his back into the door and grunted into your mouth, but the pain was quickly forgotten as soon as your tongue slipped back into his mouth.

“Mm, fiesty.” He mumbled and you felt his hands slither down the sides of your hips. He moved slowly and you swore he was trying to feel each and every one of your ribs. He grazed right over the curve of your ass and pressed his finger under your ass, cupping it with his digits. You kissed the side of his mouth and stood on your toes so your nose was hovering over his.

“Let me do everything tonight.”

Jimin’s eyes shot open. “But I—“

“No buts.” You trailed your hand over Jimin’s chest, ghosting your fingertips over his nipple. His chest jumped as he gasped, but he made no action to stop you. “I want all of you.” You said as you dropped to your knees, running your hands over his stomach. His abs weren’t as solid as you remembered and you swore you felt his sternum through his clothes. Had he been eating anything in the last time you’d seen him? It felt like he lost so much weight. Nonetheless, you slid his sweatpants just enough so his semi-hard dick slipped from the waistband. You peeked through your eyelashes at Jimin, his neck strained with a prominent vein raised through his skin and disappeared into his jawline.

You glided your hand over his cock, just grazing the surface with the lightest touch of your fingertips. Jimin sighed shakily and hunched over; his hands were balled into fists against the door.

“Y/N, please…” he moaned and closed his eyes. He traveled back in time to when he was in the bathroom of the party committing such a sinful act and was able to cum just by thinking about you. That was nothing compared to this. It was worlds better; stroking him with the lightest touch enough to drive him insane. But in little to no time, Jimin’s cock was fully erect from your teasing stimulation.

“Missed me much?” You licked a long strip up the underside of his cock. Jimin’s jaw fell.

“Too much, aah.” He sang. You cupped Jimin’s balls and while working your way to the tip, you lapped around his girth with your tongue and tasted the faint saltiness of his cock. You tickled his frenulum with the tip of your tongue and Jimin’s knees shuddered and his hand rose to possibly grab the back of your head, but fell when you enveloped his tip in your warm mouth.

“Fuh-fuck, your mouth is so hot.” He hissed. You hummed, satisfied with the compliment. You wrapped your tongue around his swollen head, the rough texture of the muscle was a new sensation for Jimin. His moans were getting much louder and you thought the neighbors would hear and come complain. Well, then you’d get your revenge for that night Jimin exposed you in front of his friend. That jerk.

You took him deeper down your mouth until he reached the back of your throat. Jimin legs felt weak from the pleasure and he could barely hold himself up without bending his knees. He huffed heavily, chest shaking as he took rapid breaths.

“Ahh, deeper.” He pleaded in a gruff voice. You glanced up and pulled back, focusing your tongue towards the tip. Jimin whimpered and his whines switched on something dark in you, desiring nothing more than to make him fall apart from your touch. “Christ, Y/N, just let me cum.”

Jimin’s thick cock fell from your mouth with a wet pop and you stroked him off with your hand. “Let you cum? But I’m just getting started.” You pouted, lips pursed against his pink head lathered in your saliva. Jimin groaned in frustration and his hips shuddered forward, unable to sustain your teasing.

“I can’t help it—ugh. Your lips are so soft,” he balled his hoodie in his fist as a guttural moan spouted from his parted lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and sucked him deeper into your mouth. “And your... throat is so ungodly tight.”

You hummed playfully, his cock sliding down your throat. Jimin gasped and squeezed his eyes shut; his length throbbing against your tongue as you swirled it around his thickness. He looked as if he were about to cum any second so you bobbed your head up and down.

“F-Fu—oh god. Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” He moaned as his eyes were closed in concentration to stay afloat or else his body would float away in pleasure.

Just then, breaking Jimin out of his state of bliss were a pair of footsteps that were approaching. Jimin’s hands flew to your head and attempted to push you off of his dick.

“Y/N, there’s someone—“ He stammered, but you ignored him, his desperation only made you move faster and sucked harder. “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, stop, I’m gonna—“ Jimin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you bottomed out, your chin rest against his twitching balls and his cock shoved down your throat as you gulped down his hot cum. Jimin jerked you forward, pushing your face into his stomach as his entire body doubled over in pleasure. He didn’t utter a sound and you heard the footsteps stop in front of the apartment across the hall; the door opening and promptly shutting in a span of seconds. You waited obediently for Jimin’s dick to soften before slowly releasing your restrains around him, lips still wrapped tightly to collect all of your saliva and his cum. You leaned back and swallowed, wiping the sides of your mouth and chin for excess juices and sucked your fingers clean.

“Demon.” Jimin panted, hair matted to his sweaty forehead and his eyes darkened with lust.

“Am not.” You said with a pout. Jimin yanked you upward by your bicep and you let out a surprised yelp. Your body slammed against him and Jimin latched his lips onto your collar and sucked hard. You let out a high-pitched moan and melted under his touch. That is, until you felt his teeth sink in and pain quickly overcame the pleasure.

“Ow!” You winced. Jimin licked at his teeth indentations that surrounded the blotchy red mark like a crown. “Who’s the demon again?” You scrunch your nose, making Jimin laugh coldly.

“Oh, I am going to mess you up.” He purred and whipped you around so you were now pressed against the door. Jimin’s lips were on yours in an instant and his hands were just as quick to reach under your drenched panties. His fingers moved nimbly as he rubbed small circles over your clit. A shudder ran up your spine and you jerked forward to meet his hands. However, Jimin was just as devilish and petty as you were and pulled his fingers away as soon as he saw you were feeling the slightest pleasure. You whined.

“Don’t you dare cry, not after what you did to me.” His voice was husky against your ear. Jimin yanked your panties down and you finished it off by slipping your legs through and kicking them aside. He gripped your right thigh and raised it, exposing your sex and lined his cock against your entrance.

“Let me hear you say it.” He said, leaving your neck with wet kisses. He rubbed his cock, already hard and raring to go, against your slit and lining it with your juices. You felt him prodding against your hole and it took so much willpower not to lower yourself onto his cock and have him slide all the way in. Your mouth watered at the thought.

“Jimin, fuck me, please. I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I think I’m going to go crazy.” You pleaded desperately. Without another word of argument, Jimin slid his cock in. The stretch was so amazing and fulfilling your toes curled as he pushed deeper. His raw cock scraped your walls intimately and his rod radiated heat, sending your mind into a frenzy. Your walls were so tight and constructed around him so tightly, enveloping his entire length in a hot vice. He buried his face into your neck and you let out a loud and spirited moan.

“Oh god, please move. You feel so good.” You cried. Jimin’s fingers dug into your thigh and began thrusting fervently right away. Given your position, Jimin was able to reach deep inside of you with each thrust and slammed into your sweet spot. You moaned every time you felt him poke at the entrance of your uterus but his vigor and roughness was all the more sexy and visually captivating to watch as sweat dribbled down the side of his face while his hips moved wildly.

“So tight, ‘s like you’re sucking me in.” He grunted. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. Jimin hips moved faster and his hips slammed into you, the squelching sound of your pussy coincided and melded with your moans that drowned into Jimin’s mouth. It had been so long since you had his cock and it felt so good, so electrifyingly good you couldn’t keep hold of your mind as it floated off into a plane of bliss.

His hips snapped into you rapidly and your juices were smearing all over your inner thighs and Jimin’s hips, making your stick to Jimin’s skin. He licked along your neck, savoring the saltiness of your sweat and ground his hips into you, the soft hairs along his naval tickled your clit, but he was so deep inside of you your body was too frozen from the rapture of Jimin’s raw cock inside of you to care about anything else besides him.

You tangled your hands in Jimin’s hair and moaned into his mouth as you tightened around him. You weren’t able to give him a word of precaution before you body twitched and climaxed with his cock still thrusting inside of you; your eyes rolling back from the intensity of your orgasm. Jimin felt how your walls squeeze around him and he slowed his movements, allowing you to ride out your orgasm to the fullest. And even though he had just cum a while ago, the urge was back in no time and heat swirled in his lower region.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” He grunted, bucking his hips into you. You hovered over his lips.

“Cum for me. I want all of you.” You said and watched Jimin’s melt from your words. He lifted your other leg up and slammed deep into you, only able to put in a few more thrust before you felt his hot cum paint your walls. He kissed you while he drained himself in you and you gladly took all of him, holding him close to you. He slipped his cock out, slowly pulling away from your tight walls and as soon as it was out, a stream of white spunk dripped out of your hole and pooled at the floor. You slowly lowered your trembling legs to the ground and cupped your sex so the mess wouldn’t increase.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” He panted and watched you slide your finger through your slit, coating it in his cum which was oddly arousing.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” Your shoulders shook from your light-hearted laugh. Jimin managed a smile and picked his sweats from the ground and slipped into them.

“Should I go get...” he started and let his sentence trail off upon seeing you lick his cum off your fingers in a kittenish manner. You glanced at him, a hint of seduction behind your gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just never get tired of seeing you do that. It’s so hot.” He ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief. You lined your lips with your tongue when you were done. You picked your crumpled panties from off the ground, straightened them out and shimmied into them, adjusting the area around your butt.

“You should get going. My roommate will be home any minute and I still have to remove all the evidence of us having sex from here.” You smiled softly.

“Damn, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“No?”

“Not at all. I was thinking about you and before I knew it, my feet brought me here.”

“You ran here?” You sounded uneasy. Jimin stepped forward so he was facing you, just inches away. His mouth twisted into a silly smile and he bonked the space between your eyebrows with his knuckle, knocking you back.

“It was a joke, silly.” His squeaky giggle lifted your soul and you couldn’t help but grin. Jimin stroked your hair, sweeping it away from your eyes. He looked at you with such endearment and a longing gaze as he held your cheek in his palm gently. His eyes fell to your lips, then back at your eyes. “Thank you for listening. I’ll let you sleep now.” He leaned in and pecked your lips.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

Taehyung and Jungkook had woken up late the next day due to their partying the night before. They stumbled out of their rooms with droopy faces and aching headaches and huddled in the kitchen like zombies to fix themselves a quick breakfast. Jungkook poured himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes while Taehyung opted for a package of untoasted strawberry-flavored Pop-Tarts.

“You have fun last night?” Taehyung asked mid-bite in his groggy, morning voice. He was leaning back in one of the chairs in the kitchen while Jungkook stood with his feet spread. Jungkook was too busy munching on his cereal to answer him right away, but he gave a short nod; his brown fringe brushing over his tired eyes.

“Like always.” He said and smirked. Taehyung snorted and the two tapped fists. Just then, Jimin burst out of his room full dressed in a sky blue tee and ripped denim jeans. He sported a slightly darker blue baseball cap over his hair—which didn’t look like a tumbleweed for once—and was rummaging around the living room, throwing couch cushions and throw pillows over his shoulder. He whipped around to his two roommates.

“Have either of you seen my keys?” He panted. Jungkook shrugged absentmindedly, not even raising his eyes from his bowl of cereal.

“Have you checked your pockets?” Taehyung asked as Jimin patted his legs down to no luck. “Maybe they’re in your room?”

Jimin fled to his room and both Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged a confused look before Jimin walked back out of his room with his keys dangling from his fingers.

“Where were they? I bet they were in your pocket, huh?” Taehyung chortled and tossed a piece of Pop-Tart into the air and catching it in his mouth. Jimin slipped the keys into his pocket and fixed his hat over his head.

“No, it was in my jacket. I guess I must’ve left it there last night.” He replied. Jungkook glanced up from bowl of cereal and his gaze sharpened at Jimin.

“Last night? Where were you last night?”

Jimin raised his eyes and noticed Jungkook’s narrow eyes. “I… went to the party.”

Taehyung’s expression lit up. “You did?! I’m so proud of you, dude!” He exclaimed brightly. Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek and quirked an eyebrow.

“I see.” Jungkook said under his breath. A part of Jungkook was glad that Jimin had finally gotten out of the house after being holed up in his room for the longest time, but Jungkook couldn’t help but feel bitter thinking back to last night before you left. It felt like, no matter how hard he tried, he would never appear as attractive or heroic as Jimin did in your eyes. It wasn’t that Jungkook wasn’t glad that Jimin was so happy, but seeing his spirits so lifted was a clear sign that something happened last night. That fact alone ticked Jungkook off.

“That’s great man, but why didn’t I see you? Why didn’t you tell us?” Taehyung asked curiously.

“Well, I didn’t stay for a long time anyway. I just stopped by and… had a drink.” Jimin said and raised his arm to check his watch. “Shit, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you guys later!” Jimin waved to his roommates before heading out the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

“Look at him, something good must’ve happened. Do you think he and Y/N made up?” Taehyung sat back with a smile on his face. Jungkook finished off his bowl and set it in the sink.

“Seems like it, doesn’t it?”he muttered under his breath while brushing past Taehyung, a sour expression plastered on his face.

Jimin jumped into his car and wrestled with his keys to start his engine. After everything you said last night, the first Jimin wanted to do drive over to your apartment and see you again, to kiss you and hold you in his arms tighter so you wouldn’t slip through his careless fingers. He couldn’t forget the kiss last night and he touched his lips to remind himself of your kiss that sparked like fireworks. He could only think of what would happen if he hadn’t gone to see you last night. How long would it have taken him to muster up the courage and talk to you? How lucky had he been to have his words come across and resonate with you? He feared what would happen if things had taken a wrong turn. You could’ve cursed him out—chased him away from your door and never to be heard from again.

But now Jimin had to prove to himself to be a better man, someone that would cherish you and never make you feel the slightest insecure again. You told him over and over again how you had never been in love before and that it was all a faraway fantasy that happened in movies and broadway shows. True love wasn’t real in your opinion, but it was Jimin’s sole purpose now to prove that wrong. Although he wasn’t any different from you; he had never been in love nor did he believe he could fall for someone this hard, but in the short time that he knew you, you only showed him the better things in life. You changed him. You pulled him straight out of his boring and bare lifestyle, seeing the same views—the same people dancing hypnotically to the same music. It was like being surrounded by sheep that only knew what they’ve been exposed to. It began to feel so repetitive and Jimin woke up some days wondering if going to school was going to change anything because those days too felt as unchanging as the rest. That is, until you appeared and changed everything.

Would he be able to make you as happy as you made him?

You dragged your heavy feet all the way from the parking lot of your complex and were surprised to even make it to the elevator which gave you about a 20-second grace period where you could rest your feet. Although you loved your job and wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world (besides a six-figure paying job, but when would an opportunity like that come around?), but you were starting to wonder if these extra long shifts were worth the calluses that formed on your heels after being on your feet for hours on end. At this point, you were yearning for the end of the day where you could relax in a hot bath with a glass of wine to melt your stress away.

You swung the door to your apartment open and instantly slung your heels to the wall, sighing in relief. Your roommate, Ji Soo, poked her head from the kitchen at the sound of the door opening; her hair was done up in a messy bun and she wore an oversized men’s t-shirt.

“Someone’s had a hard day at work.” She pointed out, a small pint of cookie dough ice cream in her hand. She spooned some into her mouth as used her eyes to gesture to the table. “Someone also has a secret admirer.” She giggled.

You looked to the coffee table and was slowly captivated by the crown of ruby foliage that decorated your table, casting a red glow around the room. You walked to the table with hypnotized steps and picked up the heavy bouquet, turning it side to side to capture more of the roses’ essence.

“Who…” you began, your vocabulary was empty upon casting your eyes on the flowers. Your hand touched something on the back of the bouquet and you pulled it out, revealing a piece of card stock lined with gold foil. On the back was engraved in the same gold foil:

I never stop thinking about you

The fancy, gold embroidery didn’t take away from the message that was written and how deeply it struck you. You traced over each word with your finger and soon a goofy, love-struck smile curled at the corners of your lips.

“Who is it from?” Ji Soo asked and rest her bottom on the corner of the kitchen table. You pressed your lips together to contain your smile.

“My secret admirer.” You said slyly.

You kept the bouquet of roses on your desk where the light from the moon cast a white glow on the petals. You could stare at them forever and never get tired of them. You knew they would eventually wither and dry into brittle pieces, but until then you kept them on display.

[11:39 PM] you: the flowers are beautiful [11:39 PM] you: thank you

[11:40 PM] Jimin: I have no idea what you’re talking about

For a second, you thought your assumptions about your secret admirer were wrong, until Jimin sent another text.

[11:40 PM] Jimin: kidding [11:40 PM] Jimin: I know you love roses

[11:41 PM] you: you seem to know a lot about me

[11:41 PM] Jimin: you aren’t exactly the most discreet [11:41 PM] Jimin: but thats not exactly a bad thing [11:42 PM] Jimin: I can learn a lot from you

Was Jimin finally willing to open up about himself? The one thing you wanted the most was to know the real Jimin and maybe, just maybe it was possible.

[11:43 PM] you: I don’t have anything to teach you

[11:44 PM] Jimin: or so you think [11:44 PM] Jimin: when can I see you again

You blushed thinking to your intense makeup session with Jimin right outside of your door and you too couldn’t wait to kiss him again. You imagined his intense kisses that he left on your body and how tenderly he touched you, like a fragile doll that he was afraid of breaking again. It was a shame that he had to leave during the night because it wouldn’t be so bad to wake up next to him.

[11:45 PM] you: this weekend [11:45 PM] you: lets have dinner

You wanted to see him as soon as possible and what could be better than a dinner date? Yeah, sure, it was a cliche among all cliches, but this was what you wanted to do. You were the ruler of your own world and from now on, you were going to play your cards right.

[11:46 PM] Jimin: a dinner huh? [11:46 PM] Jimin: sounds great [11:46 PM] Jimin: will you let me plan this one out? I want to show you a good time

[11:47 PM] you: well if you insist then I won’t argue

[11:47 PM] Jimin: then its a date

A date. Finally, a real fucking date. One with someone you actually cared for and harbored true feelings for. How different would it be? How were you supposed to act now that you were in a relationship and how long could you maintain it before your karma got the worst of you and snatched your happiness from you right when you got it.

[11:50 PM] Jimin: I’ll let you sleep princess [11:50 PM] Jimin: I love you

You flung your phone across the room and it smacked against the wall. You flipped over on your bed, grabbbing your pillow and stuffed your face in it and screamed. Your legs flailed around the bed and kicked up your blanket, messing up the sheets as well. You only stopped when your throat felt like it had been abused with sandpaper and you raised your head to breathe. The first time. It was the first time you had heard those words said to you in a romantic expression and Jimin had yet again taken one of your firsts from you.

You crawled off the bed and grabbed your phone, replying with ‘I love you too, goodnight’ before jumping back on your bed and rolling around, holding your phone to your chest. This was all so new to you; these tingling feelings that burst in your chest like firecrackers and made you feel light-headed with bliss. Was your heart able to handle Jimin if he was going to say such things so spontaneously?

It wasn’t hard for Jimin to come up with his date plans. He spent the last three months thinking about stuff like this and it was only a matter of choosing which one he wanted to do first. There were many to choose from: an aquarium date, a stroll in the park, or maybe he’d take you the carnival and drag you on the Mega Drop like he’d been wanting for the longest time. There were so many possibilities and he was positive he’d get to all of them, but there was only one place that he had in mind.

Jimin sent you flowers every day for the entire week leading up to your first date with him and each bouquet had its own message. You collected the cards and kept them safe in your drawer, with a red ribbon tied around the growing stack of gold embellished cards. Every night you would pull them out and read them over to yourself like a young maiden in love because technically that’s what you were. Although, as the number of flowers increased, the places to display them decreased drastically and soon your room had turned into a greenhouse of assorted flowers, blending to recreate a fresh, Spring-like scent through the apartment.

Finally, the awaited day had come. Jimin didn’t speak a word of his plans or where he was taking you. He simply told you to be ready at eight, so by law, you had to begin getting ready four hours ahead of time. You had already chosen your outfit, a pale pink summer dress that hugged your waist snuggly with a ribbon tied at the back. You accessorized with a long gold necklace that hung low as well as a matching bracelet. The shoes were perhaps the hardest to pick out as you had to decide between a neutral beige or a darker pink, both of which looked amazing with your outfit. You consulted Ji Soo and she said, and you quoted, that “the beige is sexy.” Going from that, of course you had to choose the beige.

You painted your face beautifully with makeup and even topped off your look with lip gloss, which Ji Soo complimented as well. You sat at the edge of your bed half an hour before Jimin was supposed to come pick you up and Ji Soo poked her head in to check on you.

“You look like a doll, I still can’t get over how cute you look!” She squealed and rest her cheek against door frame, admiring the way you sat on the bed in such a delicate manner with your knees poised.

“I feel like my face is going to melt off. I’ll probably come back looking like a hot mess.” You laughed and raised a compact mirror to fix your hair. Ji Soo eyes softened, like a mother sending her daughter off to a dance. You were her roommate for the majority of college and she couldn’t ask for a more lovely friend. Despite not being in a relationship and having no experience in that field whatsoever, you gave her the best love advice. And now she couldn’t be more proud to see you beaming and radiation happiness.

“I hope you have fun tonight.” Ji Soo winked before receding back to her room and you waited for Jimin’s call.

Meanwhile, Jimin had also spent his morning and for fact of the matter, the entire week preparing tonight’s event. More specifically, he stayed up late last night and made a complete mess in the kitchen. Everything had to be perfect and he wouldn’t accept anything less. Jimin had about seven outfits planned out in his head, but as soon as he tried them on none of them felt right. He switched up the outfits, mixing and matching garments together until he finally decided on a large black and white plaid flannel. He tucked the front flaps into his black jeans with a leather belt holding them in place. He fled his apartment in a flash and hopped into his car. Jimin took one glance at the backseat to double check if everything was in place, and with that assurance, he was on his way to see you, singing along and drumming his hands on the steering wheel to 88rising’s Peach Jam.

It happened in an instant. A streak of bright white light blinded Jimin and he ducked his head, slamming his foot on the breaks. His body lurched forward from the force, his seatbelt snapped on his chest and the next thing he knew, the windows had crashed and shattered around him while his body was being hurled around wildly in his seat. Shards of glass pierced his skin and Jimin must’ve slammed his head against the steering wheel and dashboard a dozen times before everything went still. His eyes struggled to stay open and he could hear the faint cars from the Main street driving by. Jimin fought to stay conscious, but his vision was wavering, blurring the starts in the sky and making them appear as bright city lights. His conscious was fleeting and Jimin shut his eyes, eventually gave into the serene monotonous ring in the back of his mind.

And you waited.

#btssmutclub #kpopwonderlandtag #Jimin smut #Jimin fic #Jimin fluff #Jimin angst #Jimin scenario #bts smut #bts scenario #woo what a wild ride #also IM SO SORRY

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your-kpopmama · 6 years

Text

Easter Lunch

Happy Easter, Mona. ;) Hahahahahahhahaaaa.

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Words: 3,755

Easter dinner with your parents was always a boring event. You drive two hours to their house, sit through church, go back to their place for lunch and drive the two hours back home. It was the same thing every year since you moved out after high school. Your parents put your life under a microscope and picked out any little thing that they didn’t like and proceeded to write you up a detailed report of why you should move back home because ‘that simply wouldn’t happen’ if you were under their care. They never gave you any slack for anything at all.

Currently your mother was on the other end of your phone, telling you about all the wonderful things your sister has accomplished this year and how you should have been more like her, how you should have listened more and you could be just as successful. For what felt like the millionth time that morning, your rolled your eyes and made a mocking face to no one in particular.

“Y/N. Am I on speaker phone again? Did you set the phone on the counter? I can hear the echo. Do you know how rude that is?” her voice getting more shrill with each word that came through the phone. She caught you - again - and probably not for the last time. You were busy packing an overnight bag to spend with your boyfriend Yoongi over Easter weekend instead of going to your parents house, that’s what you had originally called her for. She was still squaking away when Yoongi popped his head around the doorframe to see you ignoring your mother.

“Hello, Jisoo!” he shouted loudly into the room causing you to jump at the sound of his voice and quickly pick the phone up from your dresser. One thing you knew your mother hated more than anything you did, was Yoongi. He was an aspiring rapper and producer downtown. It wasn’t what your mother wanted your future husband to be doing - she wanted you to date a lawyer or a doctor - and you wanted to date Yoongi. The two of you had only been together for about nine months now and any chance your mother got, she took little jabs at his career choice.

“Yoongi, darling. I hope you’re well. How’s your, uh, job downtown? Still aspiring to be a rapper?” your mother’s voice condescending on the other end of the phone causing Yoongi to crack a smile.

“MY job is going well, thank you for asking. Any plans for Easter?” he pressed, your eyes looking into his with urgency, begging him to stop while he was ahead.

“Didn’t y/n tell you? She’s coming home this weekend. She does every year.” her matter-of-fact tone sent shivers down your spine, she annoyed you so much it was unbearable.

“Actually, mom, I’m no-” you started to say before she cut you off again.

“Why don’t you come home with her this weekend, darling? It’s about time we meet anyhow.” she offered. Oh no. The one thing you were actually dreading. You had yet to bring Yoongi home to your parents for specific reasons. Your sister and her husband had met him already when they ran into the two of you at a coffee shop a few weeks back, the meeting going a lot more smoothly than you thought it would. Hyejin treated your brother with some respect, but was still critisizing him for his line of work. Yoongi took it in stride.

“That’s sounds lovely, Jisoo! My folks actually just called to cancel our Easter plans as well. My brothers wife just gave birth to their first child today so they’re out of town.” Yoongi replied, looking at you with a wicked smile, one you knew that meant he was up to no good.

“Perfect! I’ll make sure to set out an extra spot for you darling. See you this weekend, Y/N. Can’t wait to meet you…Yoongi.” and with that the phone line went dead.

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned loudly earning a chuckle from Yoongi who was patting your back. “It’ll be okay y/n. It’s about time we met with your family anyhow.” he said with a grin.

“Why do I feel like this is going to be the worst Easter dinner to date?” you asked yourself.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

The drive to your parents house was nothing special. The closer you got, the bigger the houses and the more expensive the cars you passed became. Even though you grew up here, you weren’t used to it all still. It was the one thing of your past you hated, how much money you grew up having. You tried to live humbly, you tried to sneak out in clothes that weren’t designer. Your mother had other ideas. You were almost embarassed by it all. Not really having the place to complain, but you knew the money your family blew in a week on things that had zero purpose to them, could be spent better elsewhere.

You took a lot of your allowance your parents gave you and donated them to random charities over the city - they weren’t entirely thrilled - but even they weren’t that cruel to insist you stop. That’s how you met Yoongi. You had dropped by his studio one day to inquire about how to donate to the kids program there. It took in kids who were struggling financially and gave them an outlet to express themselves and give them better opportunities in life. Yoongi was running a program to teach some kids about producing and was utterly blown away by the donation you wanted to make towards new equipment. He had caught your eye too, and within a month the two of you were dating.

Around 1p.m. you finally arrived at the gate to your parents estate. Taking a deep breath you buzzed yourself in and drove up the driveway and parked in front. A low whistle could be heard from Yoongi in the passenger seat. he let out a small ‘damn’ as he gawked out of the window up at the luxurious white house in front of the two of you.

“I knew you had money, y/n but damn.” he said in awe causing a blush to creep up your neck. One thing you made sure Yoongi knew what that you weren’t an ATM for him and didn’t plan on blowing all your money on him. Sure you spoiled him on his birthday and on Christmas, but other than that, you hardly spent any money if it wasn’t necessary. He was okay with that though, and he was happy you decided to live the way you did.

“Let’s get this over with. We got lucky we were able to talk ourselves out of church services, this lunch if about the be Hell.” you grumbled before yanking your seat belt off and opening the door with more force than required. Yoongi chuckled at your attitude and followed silently behind you.

Walking into the front doors of the house Yoongi let out another low whistle, “Are you a damn bird?” you barked at him softly, causing him to laugh at you yet again. “I’m sorry. I’m just irritated. I hate coming here.” you apologized as you grabbed onto his hand.

You pulled Yoongi through the white marbled foyer into the sitting room that was adorned in abstract art pieces from all over the world that your father loved to collect. The plush white couches sat empty as a maid gently sat down a piping hot tea tray on the glass coffee table before bowing to you and walking back into the hallway that lead to the kitchen. Walking to the couch you flopped down and began pouring yourself some tea, not even waiting for your mother and father, who you knew couldn’t be too far behind. Yoongi sat down gently beside you, rubbing small circles on your lower back hoping to ease some of the attention.

Loud clicking of heels could be heard on the marble heading your way. You internally groaned. A woman of about 50 walked through the sitting room, a spitting image of you only with more wrinkles around the eyes. A small polite smile sat on her face. Her outfit screaming ‘yeah im made of money’ a cream silk top paired with a pastel pink skirt. A bun tied neatly at the nape of her neck.

“Y/n! My darling!” she cooed as she walked towards your position on the couch, already eyeing the half eaten cookie in your hand. You forced a smile on your face as you sat down your cookie and stood to hug your mother.

“Hi, mom.” you mumbled as she enveloped you into a warm hug and releasing you just as quickkly. “This is Yoongi.” you turned to gesture towards Yoongi who had already stood behind you. He gave a small polite bow before extending his hand for your mother to take. A hand which she took with scrutinization in her eyes.

“Nice to finally meet you, darling.” she forced a small smile, eyeing him up and down - the smile never leaving Yoongi’s face. “Your father is in the dining room waiting. Let’s go.” her tone was clipped as she turned, earning an eyeroll from you before you slipped your hand into Yoongi’s and followed your mother.

Your father appeared in the dining room the same time you did as he walked out of the kitchen. You had always favored him more than your mother. He was always more fair to you than she was. He wanted your happiness, she wanted your success. His hair was more grey this time around than it was at Christmas, a hazard of his job you guessed. He owned a business that employed over a million people all over the world, and he made sure each and every one of them always had something worth coming to work for. He cared so much for his employees.

“Dad!” you yelled as you let go of Yoongi’s hand and ran to your father, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He laughed and squeezed you tightly back laughing.

“Nice to see you, Y/N. We have missed you around here.” he ruffled your hair and looked up and locked eyes with Yoongi. “This must be the amazing boyfriend I’ve heard so much about! Yoongi, was it?” he extended his hand out for Yoongi to shake, smiling.

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Yoongi let go of your fathers hand and you returned to his side.

“Alright, let’s get set down for lunch. Your sister is running late today, she had to run back into the office to do some emergency paperwork that needed to be filed.” your mother cut in as she took her seat at the table.

You and Yoongi sat down as your mother signalled for the staff to bring in the lunch they had probably spent the past two days preparing it to your mothers strict requests. Everything looked delicious, and you could see Yoongi practically drooling from the corner of your eyes. The first half of lunch was relatively silent aside from forks hitting plates and your mother every now and then slurping on her wine.

“So, Yoongi, Y/N said that you’re a producer? Have you made any songs that I may have heard?” your dad questioned through a bite of his ham.

“Ah, probably not. I work mostly with kids and teach them how to work in the studio. I work with a charity downtown where I live.” Yoongi answered, his hand sliding to your lap when he saw you tense slightly.

“Charity work? That’s a respectable thing to do.” your father commented.

“But, does it pay the bills?” your mother piped in with her two cents.

“Mom..” you started before you felt Yoongi’s hand slowly sliding your dress up your thighs, your argument died on your lips. You sent him a questioning look his way but he paid you no mind. His eyes were focused on your mother.

“Well, not as well as most jobs would, but it does pay.” he answered with a smile, his hand travelling further up your thigh causing you to jump slightly in your seat.

“Y/N, are you alright?” your mother questioned, eyeing you over the rim of her wine glasss.

“Mhm.” you mumbled, tight lipped and staring Yoongi down who had still not yet looked your way.

Your father continued to take an interest in Yoongi’s life, while your mother used her usual know it all tone when she tried to speak down about everything he said. Yoongi took everything in stride, even as his hand slipped between your thighs and moved higher. You clenched your legs together in an attempt to stop him, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He continued to converse with your parents as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

What was going through his damn head? Was he seriously trying to literally get into your pants while eating Easter dinner with your parents? You and Yoongi’s sex life was pretty active and neither of you were afraid to try new things but this was borderline insane. His hand crept higher and his attention finally turned to you for a split second when he reached where he was wanting to go. You hadn’t wore underwear with this dress today and he just figured that out. A flash of desire was in his eyes and gone in the same second.

He coaxed your legs apart once more and ran a single finger up and down your folds before gently pushing one finger inside of you, causing you to take a deep breath. All of your attention was focused on Yoongi’s face, trying to make it seem like you were listening to everything he said, when in reality you hadn’t really heard anything he has said in the past few minutes. He had your father laughing and your mother trying to hide an amused smile with whatever it was that he said.

His finger slowly moved in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. With no warning once he was satisfied with how wet you had gotten, he slipped in a second finger. You jumped at the sudden intrusion and your mother sighed. “Seriously, y/n What has gotten into you today?” your mother scolded. You muttered an apology and took a generous sip of your own wine before your parents continued conversation with Yoongi.

Biting your bottomg lip, you tried to keep your noises at bay. One thing Yoongi was good at, was getting you to make the most sinful noises by doing the most amazing things to your body. You cold see the small smirk that was playing at his lips while you struggled to keep a moan from slipping out.

“Sorry we’re late!” your sister called as soon as she walked into the dining room, her husband in tow. “Y/N! Yoongi! So good to see you both again!” she said coming over to hug you quickly. Never indicating she noticed what was going on under the table. She took a seat across from you and Yoongi, joining in on the conversation with your parents.

Yoongi’s fingers began to move faster, creating a hot friction between your thighs, building up the tension in the lower part of your stomach. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, his thumb was suddenly on your clit and rubbing dangerously fast. A low moan crept out without warning and you had to cover it up with a fake coughing fit. Your mother simply shook her head at you - your sister watched you with amused eyes.

The pressure was becoming too much, your breathing was picking up and you could feel yourself on the brink of an orgasm if Yoongi kept going. “Y/N? You look flushed honey. Why don’t you go lay down? Show Yoongi where you two will be sleeping?” you could hear your faathers concerned voice over the idle chit chat at the table. If you weren’t blushing before, you sure as hell were now. Yoongi removed his fingers quickly and wiped them on the inside of his jeans before standing up and helping you from your chair. You didn’t trust your legs at this point.

'I’ll send someone up in about an hour to collect you for tea and dessert.“ your mother called, you just waved in acknowledgment as you dragged Yoongi through the house to your bedroom upstairs. You pulled him into the room and slammed and locked the door, whirling on him.

“What the hell?” you hissed.

“You were tense. I was just helping.” he smirked at you, walking towards you like a predator towards prey. His arms came around your waist and pulled you to him. “You still look a little tense. Let me help you…y/n let me make you feel good.” he whispered into your ear, causing shivers to roll down your spine.

You didn’t answer you just leaned more into his touch - a sigh escaped your lips. “That’s a good girl.” he murmured as he kissed your neck while his hands busied themselves with pulling your skirt up over your waist. “You’re so naughty, not wearing any underwear today. It’s almost like you had this planned.” he bunched your skirt into one hand while the other made its way back between your thighs. “So wet..” he whispered before placing two fingers back inside of you.

This time you let the moans fall free from your lips. Yoongi’s fingers pumped faster nearly bringing you to your climax once again. A groan of frustration escaped from your lips when he pulled his fingers free once again. “Not yet babygirl. Not yet. I’m not done with you.”

Yoongi pulled you towards your bed, pushing you gently so you were bent over the edge, ass in the air and on perfect display for him. You raised up on your elbows and looked back in time to see him pushing his pants down around his ankles before stepping out of them completely and pressing his hips against your ass. “You look so pretty like this y/n.”

“Yoongi, please.” you were practically ready to beg at this point. The anticipation was becoming too much. You needed him and you needed him now after all of that teasing. Yoongi licked his lips and placed his hands around your hips and pulled you against him.

“OKay, babygirl. I’ll take care of you.” his cock was lined up with your entrance and he pushed in gently, giving you a moment to adjust. No matter how many times you had sex with Yoongi, it always took you by surprise how much bigger he was than you remembered. And you fucking loved it. “You ready?” he grunted softly, his fingerd digging into your hips. You just nodded, knowing you wouldn’t be able to make a sound right now.

Yoongi’s pace started off slow, still allowing you to adjust slightly before his thrusting became fast and hard. The only sounds in the room were his harsh breathing and the slapping of his hips against your ass as he thrust into you - an occasional moan from you. “You always take it so good, babygirl. You’re so good to me.” Yoongi muttered from above you as he thrust harder into you from behind.

“Fuck Yoongi..” you moaned when he hit that spot that made you see stars. “Yoongi..” you started again but interupted by another moan falling from your mouth. His hips thrusting becoming harder, sending your mind reeling from your train of thought. God, did it feel good. Sex with Yoongi was never boring to say the least.

“Ahhhh, fuCK” Yoongi moaned out loud as you started to move with him, meeting his hips with your own thrusts, creating a tighter feeling in your stomach. “Babygirl, ahh I love it when you do that.” he moaned as his hand came down and slapped your ass, pulling a moan from you in return.

“Yoongi..I can’t..I can’t hold on much longer.” you moaned. “I’m gonna..”

“I got you babygirl.” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully as his thrusts became harder and faster than before. “Let go baby.” he moaned as his thrusting finally brought you over the edge. A loud moan came from you as his thrusting began to become erratic, as he sought his own orgasm. “Babygirl, I’m gonna cum…fuck…” he warned you before his final thrust into you.

He held your hips still as his rode out his high, his body almost collapsing ontop of yours. His lips leaving searing kissed down your exposed back from where he shoved your dress out of the way. “Fuck..” he whispered before pulling of out you and falling beside you on the bed out of breath.

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything?” his eyes were closed but his hand reached out for you. You turned to your side and laid your head on his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Let’s get cleaned up.” you said, planting a small kiss on his temple before half stumbling to your bathroom and returning with a clothe for him to clean up after you finished cleaning yourself up. “You know this is supposed to be your job.” you joked when you laid back down beside him on the bed.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I think I over did it.” he chuckled, taking the rag from you and quickly cleaning up and redressing. He laid back down beside you on the be and pulled you close. “We have about another half hour before we have to go back down. Wanna go again?”

“Are you crazy?” you laughed swatting his ass playfully.

“I take that as a yes.” he leaned over you and kissed you softly before pushing your hair behind your ear and looking down at you. “I love you.” he said.

Your cheeks flushed a full red and you smiled. It was the first time he said it to you and you had been waiting almost a whole month to say it to him, but he beat you to it. You just smiled at him and pecked his lips quickly. “I love you too.” Yoongi grinned down at you and cuddled back against your side, the two of you drifting off to a small nap.

#kim namjoon #namjoon #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #jung hoseok #hoseok #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic #fanfiction BTS #BTS au

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years

Text

Masterlist

CEO!au Jaebum

It had been five years since you’d begun working for GOT Ltd. as an accountant. It wasn’t easy work, reviewing the financial statements of one of the biggest corporations in the world. Your efforts and dedication had gotten you promoted to Head of the Accounting Department in a few short years. It was mostly because you were the only one who could sit and make sense of the mess that the other Departments made of the company’s transactions.

Especially Marketing. Those guys were shit at handling money. They threw it around like irresponsible children, and sometimes you wondered how Jackson Wang hadn’t been fired for financial mismanagement already.

If it was up to you, he would have been. If you’d been the CEO, you would have fired him and his happy-go-lucky counterpart in Human Resources (Choi Youngjae) at the drop of a hat.

But you weren’t the CEO. The CEO of GOT Ltd.was Im Jaebum and nobody was in any doubt of that fact. His name and face was all over the newspapers and the magazines. The man who had become a CEO of a huge corporation at 29, who looked more like a model than a corporate employee. Business magazines were dying to learn the secret to how he’d climbed the corporate ladder so fast. Fashion magazines wanted to know what suits he was wearing. Lifestyle magazines would kill to find out the workout regime he followed to maintain those broad shoulders and sharp jawline.

Nobody cared about who Im Jaebum was.

They just wanted to know how he got to his position.

“He just came back from a Board Meeting,” Jaebum’s secretary informed you as you approached his office. Both of you knew what her words really meant. He’s in a terrible mood so don’t upset him.

“It’s okay, I just have to drop off some files.”

She gave you a sympathetic expression as you moved forward and knocked on the large door twice. You heard Jaebum’s voice tell you gruffly to come in and you entered carefully.

Jaebum was sitting as his desk, one elbow leaning on the table. The sleeves of the white shirt were rolled up, exposing his forearms. The tie that he’d clearly yanked off was lying on his table. You noticed that his hair was ruffled; he ran his fingers through it when he was frustrated.

You gave him a calm smile. “I came to drop off the financial statements you asked for. We re-assesed this month’s dues and they’re not looking so bad.”

Jaebum looked up at you. You wondered how many people had seen him like this- eyes torn with frustration, his shoulders slumped forward in exhaustion. Most people just saw his fancy car and penthouse apartment. They didn’t realize that he carried the burden of an entire corporation on his shoulders. A corporation with thousands of shareholders, hundreds of employees, creditors and customers. All depending on Im Jaebum.

“The financial statements?” he asked, with a low, hollow chuckle. He gestured towards a trash can in the corner of the room. “You can throw those in there. I don’t need them anymore.”

You would have been offended, if you didn’t know Jaebum better. You slowly walked over to his desk and set your file down on it.

“What happened?”

“They’re overhauling the entire budget plan. That godforsaken new Director who got nominated to the Board? He didn’t like the way things are going. He cancelled my entire Employee Stock Option Plan. None of the employees are getting zilch.”

You froze. “But the only reason we managed to deduct the salary rate last year was because the employees knew Employee Stock Options were in the works. They’re looking forward to getting those stocks.”

Jaebum gave a dry laugh. “No, no. Apparently keeping employees happy doesn’t matter in the face of short-term profits.”

You bit your lip and sat down. You knew why Jaebum was worried. He was in a constant tussle between the Board of Directors and the employees. The Board being a bunch of rich old men who wanted to squeeze as much money out of the company as they could, and the employees who wanted their rights and benefits. And Im Jaebum was the bridge between them both.

A bridge which was crumbling right in front of your eyes.

“Have you told that Director that what he’s proposing is going to destroy the company in the long run?” you demanded.

Jaebum was furious. His eyes flashed at you and he banged a hand down on the table harshly. “You think I didn’t try? You think I didn’t do everything in my power to protect this company from being squeezed dry by that man? It’s out of my hands. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep fighting them. The employees hate me. The Board doesn’t give a shit about what I say, they just want their money and I’m doing their dirty work.”

You moved around his desk and placed a hand on his shoulder. Jaebum relaxed into your touch. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. He had learned to lean on you two years ago. The recession had hit hard and the thing Jaebum hated most was firing employees. It had been a tough time for everyone and he had found a listening ear in you.

Perhaps more than just an ear.

“The employees don’t hate you,” you tried to reassure him. But you knew it was a lie.

“They will tomorrow, when the yearly bonus is announced and there are no stock options and nobody gets anything. It’ll be my signature on the memo. They’ll blame me.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was difficult to reassure Jaebum when he had so much pressure on his shoulders. You could imagine the look on the employees faces when they realized they weren’t getting what they were promised. Damn, you’d been looking forward to those stocks yourself.

Jaebum turned and spoke to you in a soft voice. “You don’t blame me, do you?”

Your heart went out to him. You were the only person in front of whom Im Jaebum could show this side of himself. Not the confident CEO at 29 but the young man who’d been burdened with too much responsibility at too young an age. He looked like a small child as he looked up at you, begging for reassurance.

“Jaebum, this is not your fault. You’re excellent at your job.”

He stood up from his chair and his arms wrapped around you. You were pressed to his chest, the expensive material of his white shirt against your cheek. His arms were strong and he gripped your waist tightly as he took deep breaths. You stroked his broad back gently, trying to help him breathe and calm down.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you whispered.

Jaebum laughed and shook his head. “It’s not okay. I feel like I’m dying. I go to that Board Meeting and those Directors treat me like I’m a stupid little boy. I come here and the employees think I’m some kind of monster who wants to ruin their lives. I don’t know who I am anymore. I can’t figure it out.”

“Jaebum…”

“The only time I feel like a normal person is when I’m with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His arms were holding you tightly, you could smell the expensive cologne he always put on before a meeting. It flooded your senses and his lips on yours felt like heaven. You took a deep breath and pulled away.

“J-Jaebum. Stop. This can’t happen.”

He looked torn as you pushed him away. Part of him looked even more defeated, as though he knew that it was going to happen. You took a deep breath and tried to calm down your racing heartbeat. You had known deep down that your relationship with Jaebum was headed this way. You should have stopped it sooner.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized quietly.

You shook your head rapidly. “It’s not… I just… I can’t afford to get fired. You’re my direct superior. If my collegues found out they’d accuse you of workplace discrimination and it’s just so unethical. Everybody would hate us.”

He gave you an exhausted look.

“You should leave.”

You felt your heart break. You didn’t want to do this to him. You didn’t want to leave him alone when he was so vulnerable. If he hadn’t been your superior then you would have grabbed onto him and never let go.

“Jaebum, don’t… I don’t want…”

He gave you a soft smile. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t-”

“You should get back to work. The new budget will need a lot of reviewing. I’ll send you the documents. Also, don’t mention what I told you about the Board Meeting. That’s confidential information. But you…” his voice cracked slightly as he turned to his laptop. “You know that.”

You stared at him.

“I’m always here for you,” you told him.

“I know.”

You left his office. It felt horrible, but there was nothing you could do. You had seen how office romances worked and they were ugly. Even if you and Jaebum managed it fine, the other employees would still feel discriminated against. They would complain that he was giving you preferential treatment and… well, they might not be wrong. You knew that Jaebum liked you more than the other department heads. Who was to say that he wouldn’t be more lenient with you than them?

No, office romances were ugly. You didn’t want to get into one.

You just hoped you hadn’t made the biggest mistake of your life.

#got7 #got7 drabble #im jaebum #jaebum drabble #ceo!au #got7 scenarios

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hwarangbangbang · 7 years

Text

mark tuan » better. much better.

i got the idea of doing this from reading a bed sharing AU i found on Tumblr, you can find it here. i take no credit for these prompts or gifs, however i do take credit for writing these stories.

title - better. much better. prompt - “we've had this tradition as besties to have a sleepover once a year but ths year... it feels different... were your pajamas always this cute?? did I always have butterflies???” pairing: mark tuan/fem!reader tags - hella fluff cause it's what I do, kissing, hickies, friends-to-lovers, angst I guess?? JFC just read it. pls be nice bc im soft af, who doesn't love frazier, and forgetting sarah marshall coME ON, ask me about me weiner, sry not sry word count - 3,012 words author's note - this is one of the longest oneshots i've ever written, it's just barely over three thousand words I know I'm weak I'm sORRY. enjoy!

Four years. Four years was how long you'd gone without seeing your best friend. Four years since he moved to South Korea from his home in Los Angeles to become a trainee under the JYP Ent. corporation and become an idol. Four years since you two last hugged, last physically saw or touched each other face to face.

But more importantly, four years since you'd had your annual best friend sleepover.

On those nights for the first two years, the third weekend in the month of July, you two would FaceTime and Skype as much as you could, with Mark's apologies that he couldn't be there, and you two just talking and catching up. However these past two years, he never called. And when you would attempt to get in touch with him, he'd either be too busy with schedules to pick up, or too tired to answer.

Either way, you got nothing.

Sure, he'd text you an 'I'm sorry,' but after that and a few hours of messages, you wouldn't hear anything. And it's not like he didn't care. He was busy -- and you understood that. And as that third weekend in July began to come up, you weren't surprised to hear your phone ding while you were in the middle of grocery shopping. However what you were surprised to see was that it was a text message from Mark.

I have a surprise for you, (Y/N)~

Your brows furrowed in confusion, sending a quick message back before you began to pile your groceries onto an aisle's conveyor belt so you could pay and go home.

You somehow managed to get me a date with Gong Yoo? Ooh, no! Wait, let me guess, Park Hyung Sik?

A small smile graced your features and you had to remind yourself that he was your best friend. Your best friend who you totally weren't crushing on at all. You planned to tell him before he left for Korea, but considering it was so sudden, you hadn't mustered up the courage when his parents drove you both to the airport so you could say goodbye to him with them.

His parents shipped you two more than all of the Aghases in the world shipped MarkBam. His mother would constantly ask you when you would be giving her grand children, when you two were going to finally get together, it was rather endearing, but it always had to come to a stop when you realized you couldn't actually do that. Because you didn't want to fuck things up in the end. The only thing it did was get your hopes up.

You didn't tell him because you didn't want him to feel like he had obligations to you. Because you wanted him to go live his life and enjoy it without worrying about you. Because you didn't want to fuck up the one good friendship you'd had since you guys were four years old. Because you were scared of the rejection you knew you'd face.

You pulled out your money and paid for your groceries, giving a small smile to the bag boy and told him to have a nice day, before rolling the cart out to your vehicle. It was dark outside, very dark, it was almost ten at night, but you had gotten caught up late at work so you had a late start getting groceries. After you got all of them in, you got in your car and put on your seatbelt, starting the engine.

And there goes your phone again, dinging from where it sat in the passenger seat.

Better. Much better.

Ominous. Very, very ominous. You didn't know whether to be excited or scared. Regardless, you put your phone back down after replying and began your drive home.

You're scaring me, Tuan. Should I be worried?

Your phone dinged once more as you were driving, but given that you can barely walk and chew gum at the same time, it wasn't wise to try and read a text message while piloting a huge piece of machinery. As you pulled into your driveway, you picked up your phone, killing the engine.

However, just as you were about to reply, a FaceTime request with Mark popped up. You tilted your head slightly in confusion but clicked accept.

"(Y/N)! Are you ready to see your surprise?"

You could barely see him apart from the streetlights on the small screen of your phone, and his did little to illuminate his own face.

"I'm a little nervous... But su-"

The reason you didn't finish your sentence was because you let out an earth shattering scream.

Because there was a knock at your window, which startled you. And peering closer, you saw that none other than your best friend, Mark Yi En Tuan was the one knocking on said window.

It took you a good few minutes to process it. But then you were ecstatic. You threw open the car door, at risk of ripping it off it's hinges, and you embraced Mark in the biggest and tightest hug you ever thought imaginable. You buried your face in his neck, small squeals of surprise and happiness overtaking you as he lifted you off the ground and spun you a bit, hugging you just as tight as you did him.

And you felt your heart ache a little when you two parted.

"What the hell are you doing here?! I thought you were still waiting for your comeback in Korea?"

A beautiful smile graced his face. "This tour is spread to the U.S. as well, and our second concert is in a few days here in L.A."

Your eyes grew rather big as you thought it over. "So does that mean... d-does that mean we can have our amazing spectacular best friend sleep over this year?"

Mark gestured to a miniature suitcase that was on the ground next to him that you assumed had clothes and other necessities in it.

"Yes. This means we can have our amazing spectacular best friend sleep over that I've missed the past four years."

~*~*~*~*~

Mark helped you bring in the groceries and you put them away while he got changed into his pajamas for the night. You couldn't believe this... Your best friend after four years finally comes back -- he remembered and he didn't forget about you and it made your heart swell with contentment. After putting away the groceries, you pulled out a few bags of popcorn and set them in the microwave one by one, filling the huge bowl you had stuffed away in storage, used only once a year at the sleepover. It definitely was dusty, but a good wash had it clean in no time.

You hadn't heard Mark walk in until he came over and rested his chin on your shoulder, a small gesture that you had completely forgotten about and it made you jump slightly. "Popcorn smells good." Mark commented, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying to warm them up since externally you were freezing.

However having him this close, with how much he'd grown up and how long you'd been apart, was making your cheeks warm in no time.

"Would you mind watching it for a minute? I'm gonna go change." You told him and he nodded, rubbing your back in a small departure gesture before you scampered off to your room to go change.

This kid was gonna be the death of you eventually.

You decided on a pair of black shorts and a white tank top with a pair of fuzzy grey socks, appropriate sleep over attire, making sure nothing important was on display before you walked out to see him pouring the last of the popcorn in the bowl, filling it to the brim.

You watched him as he did it. He certainly had matured from the awkward, cute kid you knew him as... He had gotten much taller, and thankfully they had let his brown hair live to see another day. It was slightly long, not too much, and his skin was tanner though only by a little. His shoulders were more broad, his shirt leaving little to the imagination as it clung to his body. He wasn't muscular, but lean -- and the veins in his forearms were definitely not helping with your act of playing cool around him.

"(Y/N)?"

You snapped out of your daze, just in time to see him throwing a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth, sucking off the butter and salt from his fingers and dear god that wasn't helping. You tried to ignore the smirk on his face, walking up to him and grabbing a few pieces of popcorn for yourself. Opening the fridge, you grabbed a few sodas and walked out to the living room, setting down the sodas on the entertainment center before going to pull out the futon.

"So-" Mark began, putting down the popcorn and nudging you aside so he could do it for you -- though not that you were complaining, it gave you ample time to lowkey watch his physique. "What are we watching tonight?" He said with slight strain to his voice as he pulled it out, grabbing the pillows off the floor and tossed them on the bed, plopping down with the bowl of popcorn in hands.

"Well, as much as I wish to torture you with romance films and chick flicks-" you started, sitting up at the far right corner of the bed, grabbing the blanket as you were cold, "I think I need a few laughs. You up for a comedy?" You asked and he grinned brightly. "When am I ever not up for comedy?"

You two ended up watching White Chicks, followed by Anchor Man, and then binged on a few episodes of Fraizer. You missed it. Laughing with him until your sides hurt, throwing popcorn at one another, poking each other randomly just because -- you missed the friendship, the closeness, you missed him. God, it'd been four years since you'd seen him and it felt good to laugh out the frustration you had the past few years without him.

"(Y/N)? Wanna play a game?"

This caught your attention. Games with Mark were dangerous.. Mainly due to the fact that it was typically truth or dare, and the last time you played that with Mark you nearly broke your ankle after running around outside in nothing but a BatMan onsie, yelling "ASK ME ABOUT MY WEINER" at four in the morning four a solid minute.

That was when you were thirteen and ''Forgetting Sarah Marshall'' was the shit.

But for some reason, you always agreed.

And here you were, six truths in from either side, and two dares from his side. You found out what kind of girls he dated in Korea if any, he found out that you watched the same K-Dramas Yugyeom did. They were all normal and not as mean as you knew Mark out to be in these types of games.

Which was suspicious as all hell.

"Alright, Mark. Truth or dare?" You had an overly dramatic tone to your voice, and he chuckled lowly, his eyes never leaving yours from where he sat on the opposite side of the bed before answering just as dramatically. "Dare."

Well that was a change.

You thought for a minute before a small smirk came over your face. He'd been playing with you all night, at least it felt that way in your head, with lingering stares and touches, so now it was time for a little teasing in return.

"Mr. Tuan, I dare you to tell me your kinks."

Mark pinked sightly, but brushed it off easily. "And here I thought you were going hard on me-" he laughed and you thought you'd caught a glimpse of silver, but you just nudged it away as he responded.

"Well, it's definitely been a while...Almost too long since I've gotten any with schedules. But my kinks definitely revolve around," Mark licked his lips and you saw it. The two silver barbells just underneath his tongue. "Using my tongue." Fuck, if that didn't have your panties flooded by now, you didn't know what else would. You often imagined what it'd be like to kiss Mark, but after seeing those it brought a whole new perspective into light.

You shook your head slightly, running a hand through your hair. "Y-Your t-turn."

Mark pretended to think for a minute before biting his lower lip, looking down at you. "Dare or Dare?" You scoffed, "it's truth or dare!" You protested and he shook his head. "No, you've been picking truths all this time! Come on, (Y/N) live a little!"

With a groan, you planted your face into your palms. "Fine, dare." You grumbled.

"I dare you to give me a hickey."

Your head shot up, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"I-I beg your p-pardon?"

"Give."

"Me."

"A hickey."

"You know, those marks you leave on someone's neck or chest or hi-"

You squeaked at his teasing words, scrambling to shove your hands over his mouth. "H-Hey, I know what it is! I don't need an explanation!" You yelled and he laughed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you fully to sit on his lap, your legs wrapped around his hips and your faces dangerously close.

"If you're not comfortable, we don't ha-"

Mustering up what little courage you had, you cut him off mid sentence.

"I'll do it."

That certainly got his attention. A big smirk spread across his face, and he bit his lip before slightly lifting his head so you got more access. "Do your worst, (Y/N)." And you were more than happy to. All the teasing from his end was about to get handed back to him, and you couldn't be more enthralled.

So, you got to work. You made little kitten licks up the side of his jugular, blowing cool air on his skin to which you saw goosebumps forming already. You placed a small open-mouthed kiss just at his pulse point, feeling him shudder and he could feel you smile against his skin as he gripped your thighs slightly.

"Someone's enjoying themselves."

He scoffed, "don't make me laugh, (Y/N)-"

To cut him off, you bit down into the skin, just hard enough to get his attention, you sucked lightly at the skin until a small red and purple mark formed, and you pulled back after a small kiss of apology to the blooming bruise on his neck. He was breathing heavy, his lower lip worried in between his teeth so badly you were fearing he'd draw blood. He wouldn't let go of your thighs either, his grip having hardened throughout the ordeal.

"Are you satis-"

Then he attacked. His lips clashed with yours, one hand moving up from grabbing at your thighs to grip the back of your neck, pushing your lips closer together if that was even possible, the other still massaging his own set of bruises into your thigh. He lightly pushed you down towards the bed, and you felt two small, cold steel balls at your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

He had his tongue pierced, as you previously suspected. That was fucking hot.

You allowed him entrance, and the two of you kissed languidly, your hands curling in his hair and when you pulled away, he was still chasing your lips for more. His hands were halfway up your shirt, dancing along your ribs and pulling it up but not all the way to where you'd be entirely exposed to him.

"D-Does this m-mean that-"

"Yes, (Y/N), it means I like you back. And it also means I'd very much like to stop being your best friend and start being your boyfriend."

A small flush of pink dusts your cheeks as you looked up at him in awe. "You knew I liked you? All this time?"

He smiled brightly, a small laugh leaving his throat. "I had the suspicion when I left for Korea. You only confirmed it just now with that hickey. No person I know would give their best friends a hickey that well if they were just best friends-" He brushed a strand of hair away from your face. You sighed, opening your mouth to make a smart ass retort when he leaned down and gave you another kiss that took your breath away in seconds.

He let his lips trail further until they were at the top of your sternum, just between your breasts and he sucked a dark mark into the skin, doing the same to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. Oh, your friends were never going to let you live that down. But then again, you were almost positive that you didn't mind it with how he was making you feel right now. It blew your mind to think that your best friend of so long could make a fire erupt in the pit of your stomach in mere seconds.

However, he stopped and pulled back, a concerned look on his face. "So is that a yes?"

With a huge grin, you nodded in response.

"But that makes me better than Gong Yoo and Park Hyung Sik, right?"

With a chortle, you rolled the two of you over so you were straddling his waist, you leaned down and kissed him sensually, your knew-found knowledge of making out servicing you well. When you pulled away, you dismissed his worries.

"You're better. Much better."

general masterlist

#mark tuan #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines

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redvsvblue · 7 years

Text

Paint and Metal and Everything in Between (1/4)

Uh...so...there was one scene I wanted to write but it needs build up, so...this happened. Uh. Here’s some Jeremwood set in the FAHC AU. There’s a NSFW scene. I’ll crosspost it on AO3 when I clean it up a bit.

(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, general tag)

Jeremy's running down backstreet alleys with Michael, a cash-heavy duffle slung over his back and his legs protesting with every corner – Michael's glancing back at him and laughing gleefully and the sirens only get louder, ringing around in the narrow alleyways.

“What's the plan?!” Jeremy shouts, smiling despite the fact that the cops already pinned down Michael's escape car and now they're running for their lives in the worst part of Los Santos.

“Don't worry, I called backup!” Michael yells, and Jeremy wonders what it'll be now. He hasn't spent much time with the FAHC yet but he's already been treated to one of Gavin's dizzying chopper rides. He hopes it's not that, but some part of him has already resigned itself to climbing a hook.

They burst out into an open street and Jeremy immediately scans for cops and flinches at the car that squeals around the corner, low-riding and black and zooming up to them before braking sharply. Michael grins and yanks open the back door, squeezing in with duffle and all and ushering Jeremy in as the engine revs and the car speeds off again, the door slamming shut with the force, barely missing Jeremy's fingers.

Lights flash behind them and Michael laughs loudly as he retrieves an SMG from his footwell – Jeremy kicks his duffle down and looks up into the rearview mirror to see – oh shit – the Vagabond staring back at him, maskless and painted ghoulishly, grinning almost manically as he swerves around another corner.

“Hey!” The Vagabond says, meeting Jeremy's eyes in the mirror.

“Lil J, this is V, V, Lil J,” Michael says before smashing out a window with the butt of the SMG, twisting to shoot behind them.

“Aw, you didn't have to break it,” the Vagabond complains, accelerating through a red light and flipping off the honking horns.

“This was our backup?!” Jeremy shouts, the new speed slamming him against the seat and he scrabbles wildly for a grip. He's never really met the Vagabond, let alone talked to him – the Vagabond was busy on a job when Jeremy joined, and he supposes this is now their first official meeting and boy what a fucking first meeting.

“It's the best backup!” Michael yells back, crouching into the car to reload.

“Gun's under your feet!” The Vagabond calls, spinning the car into a sharp U-turn that makes Jeremy's head whirl but he gropes underneath for the gun anyway, pulling out a heavy carbine and fumbling for the extra clips sliding around beside it.

As he straightens again the back window shatters, glass spraying all over the inside of the car and Michael just offers Jeremy a wild grin and turns to shoot out the back. Jeremy snaps back the slide and turns to do the same, aiming for wheels and windshields as the Vagabond races down one-way streets the wrong way, nearly sending them flying when he zooms over speed bumps. Bullets hail over the roof of the car and bounce off harmlessly – Jeremy snaps in a new clip and empties it into a cop car engine as they drive into a tunnel. It explodes in a thunderous crash boom and he sees the cops diving out of it as it flips, blocking the path of its friends.

“Nice one!” Michael yells, ducking back down to grab grenades from fucking somewhere, Jeremy doesn't know, he's dizzy and they're going really fucking fast and next thing he knows they're on a bridge, dashing around civilian traffic.

A helicopter whirs above them and starts shooting – Michael and Jeremy both tuck back in, Jeremy taking the moment to gulp in huge breaths while the Vagabond navigates them off the bridge and into shitty back roads.

“Get the chopper!” The Vagabond shouts, and Michael and Jeremy pop out to do just that, pummelling it with bullets until they hit a blade and it starts going down. Parachutes drop from it and Michael shoots those, too, laughing when they rip and start twirling in sharp circles.

The sirens fade a little, the cops seeming to have given up on them, and the Vagabond slows down to only twenty above the speed limit, driving out of the shitty bit onto the coastside motorway, slotting in behind a fast white Infernus.

“We're clear,” Michael says, slumping back in his seat and returning the grenades back into the bag they came out of. Jeremy sighs and drops his carbine on his lap, brushing glass off of his arms and out of his clothes.

Michael reaches over to slap his arm and gives him a wide grin while fist-bumping him. Jeremy laughs a little hysterically and glances up at the mirror to see the Vagabond looking at him.

“How much'd you get?” The Vagabond asks, glancing over to Michael.

“Aw man, at least fifty,” Michael says, his gaze dropping to the bags.

“Fifty G?” The Vagabond raises an eyebrow and overtakes the Infernus. “That's pretty good.”

“Yeah, pretty good take,” Michael agrees, “wouldn't you say, Lil J?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” Jeremy pants, his hands trembling a little from adrenaline.

“I think you wore him out,” Michael teases, leaning forward.

“What a shame,” the Vagabond replies with a smirk, lifting his eyes to Jeremy in the mirror.

“Fuck you,” Jeremy says, grinning at their laughter. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“Sure,” Michael says. “Where we goin', V?”

“Well, Hookies is up here,” the Vagabond says, flicking on his headlights as the sky darkens around them. “Heard they got new owners. Cleaned the place up a bit. Wanna check it out?”

“Hell yeah. Lil J, you in?”

“Can I even be out?”

Michael and the Vagabond laugh again.

It turns out Hookies is a great place now, and it's got these fucking amazing little vodka shots that Jeremy's had way too many of and a home-brewed moonshine that's fucking delicious.

They've claimed a table outside, plopping down with their cold drinks and numerous glasses and talking shit in the stagnant Los Santos heat, their loud arguments lost in the din of the outside crowd. Michael often steals the Vagabond's Diet Coke for a chaser – V doesn't drink, that's why it's great to go out with him, Michael had slurred, looping an arm around Jeremy's shoulders, designated driver, and the Vagabond had merely cocked an eyebrow and replied, who said I'm taking you home? - and even with the face paint on he's still easygoing, thumping Jeremy on the back when he chokes and sliding napkins over to Michael when he spills moonshine on the table.

It's a fucking great time and Jeremy's drunk enough the lights are starting to blur, and when Michael finishes his latest bottle of moonshine the Vagabond decides to usher them out. He holds tight to Jeremy's arm and Michael stumbles along beside Jeremy, still half draped over him and chattering about something to do with the stars and Jeremy laughs at his slurred insults, the Vagabond's good-natured chuckle echoing quietly beside him.

“Oh god, please – please don't drive as fast as you did before,” Jeremy asks when the Vagabond's bundling them into the car, Michael already sprawled in the backseat and Jeremy about to lift a leg to get in.

“Don't worry, I won't,” the Vagabond says with an amused quirk of his lips. “I don't want my seats stained.”

“Thanks man,” Jeremy slurs, patting the Vagabond on the chest before getting in – the door shuts gently behind him and he's starting up another conversation with Michael as the Vagabond slides into the driver's seat and turns on the engine.

True to his word, the Vagabond drives at the speed limit, keeping his corners smooth and his lane changing seamless, and Jeremy internally thanks him as he presses his cheek to the cool glass, idly watching his breath steam up against it.

“I bet we could, y'know, mould it around his face,” Gavin says, gesturing vaguely to his own face as Michael stares at him.

“Sure man,” Michael says with a laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, if he's up for it.”

“What – What are we doin', again?” Jeremy asks, resting his elbows on his knees to lean forward and look around Michael to Gavin.

“Geoff's got a bunch of silly string shit,” Gavin says, “and it – it hardens after a while, don't it? So I figure we could make a – a mould of your face.”

“Why me?” Jeremy asks.

“'Cause you're new,” Gavin says with a shrug. Michael cackles and presses his hand to his chest.

“Yeah, 'cause you're new,” he giggles, mocking Gavin, “it's an induction ritual.”

“An in-in what what? Induction?” Jeremy asks – okay, he's had a little moonshine, he's not exactly straight-faced sober right now. Some words are hard. Michael breaks into fresh giggles – he's been hitting the moonshine, too, and Gavin laughs loudly.

“Can you imagine if we got Ry to do that?” He exclaims, laughing again at the thought.

“Ry?” Jeremy asks, puzzled. “Who's Ry?”

“Ryan,” Gavin says, and furrows his brow. “V.”

“Shut up,” Michael mutters, slapping Gavin's arm. “He doesn't know his name yet.”

“It's okay, I won't – I won't tell 'im,” Jeremy promises, patting Michael's knee. “It's our secret.”

“Yeah, okay, our secret,” Michael says, and then they get back to the silly string matter.

Jeremy's walking around with straws in his mouth and disgusting rubber on his face, holding his hands out in front of him like Marco Polo with Michael guiding him, both him and Gavin snickering behind him.

“Here, stay a second,” Michael says, leaving him somewhere as his hands slip away. Jeremy waits a few minutes and then there's a noise beside him and he whirls around, his arms knocking solidly into someone's ribs and he stumbles back, grunting through the straws.

He nearly trips over his own feet but a hand lands on his lower back, urging him back upright and Jeremy sighs in relief. The hand doesn't leave, warm and broad against his spine, and Jeremy ignores the drunken shiver that runs up him.

“What're you up to?” Someone asks – the Vagabond, Jeremy realises after a moment, definitely a smile in his voice. He tries to speak through the straws and fails, but the Vagabond laughs anyway.

“Michael and Gavin?” He asks, and Jeremy nods. The Vagabond hums in acknowledgement and Jeremy tries to ask another question through the plastic. Thankfully, the Vagabond seems to understand him.

“Where are you? You're in the kitchen,” the Vagabond – Ryan, Jeremy remembers suddenly, his name is Ryan – says. “Right in front of the fridge, actually.”

Jeremy makes a relieved noise and Ryan chuckles again, curling more of his arm around Jeremy's back to hold him steady and that's absolutely not why Jeremy's suddenly sweating under his rubbery mask.

He hears Michael and Gavin returning, laughing madly about something, and Ryan gives him over to Michael's hands. Jeremy's a little disappointed when Ryan's fingers leave but doesn't let it show, instead turning towards Gavin's voice – he smacks him in the face with the straws by the sound of it and the rest of them break into a chorus of laughter.

“Jeremy!” Gavin exclaims, batting lightly at the straws. Jeremy snorts and the sound sends Michael into more cackling, his hands squeezing Jeremy's waist.

“Don't hurt him too much,” Ryan says. “We still need him.”

“We'll try,” Michael says, and starts to steer Jeremy in another direction. “I can't promise for Gavin, though!”

“Michael!”

Jeremy ends up hunkered down in a warehouse with Ryan, both of them sitting on the floor leaning up against crates as the comms crackle in their ears. There's a deal going down in the next building over, and they're simply there as backup in case it screws up, but it seems to be going smoothly so far.

Ryan idles plays with the slide of his pistol, snapping it back and running his hand over the barrel in a very distracting manner. Jeremy keeps glancing over at him, only a couple metres away, doused in shadow.

“I thought you always wore a mask,” Jeremy says. Ryan 'hm?'s and looks up at him.

“Police footage. You're always wearing the mask,” Jeremy explains, and Ryan glances back down at his pistol.

“I wear it,” he says.

“Yeah, but, like, I thought you wore it all the time.”

Ryan shrugs and brings a knee up to rest his elbow on it, letting the pistol lay on his thigh.

“The paint's easier,” he says. “Doesn't get as hot.”

“I thought you were famous,” Jeremy says. “Aren't you, like, wanted in five states?”

“Seven,” Ryan corrects, tossing the pistol up and flipping it cleanly in mid-air. “And not anymore. Gavin cleared my rap sheets.”

“Huh.” Jeremy leans his head back against the crate and looks up at the dusty rafters. “Why doesn't he do that for all of us?”

“We keep getting new ones,” Ryan replies. “No point in wiping them all the time.”

“But you're special?” Jeremy teases.

Ryan glances at him and then back to the pistol. He doesn't answer, and Jeremy lets the subject drop. He's sure Ryan has a good reason.

“Hey, V, pass the charges,” Jeremy says, holding out a hand and waiting for something to drop into it while he wires up C4 with the other. Ryan hesitates and Jeremy glances up, making grabby fingers with his hand.

“V?” He asks, and Ryan meets his eyes, his paint especially eerie in the faint yellow lighting of the docks.

“Ryan,” he says, and Jeremy pretends not to understand why he's saying that.

“Call me Ryan,” Ryan continues, carefully pressing a detonation charge into Jeremy's hand.

“Okay. Ryan,” Jeremy says, testing the name out on his tongue and smiling at him. Ryan smiles back a touch shyly and Jeremy looks away before he can start to flush.

The drug ship goes up in a big, beautiful explosion and Jeremy can't help but notice how nice the reflection looks in Ryan's eyes, and then the nervous twitch of Ryan's lips when he glances down at Jeremy and there's a tense, loaded moment before sirens rise from the city and they have to go.

Ryan's arm curls around Jeremy's shoulder moments before he slams them to the floor, half-covering Jeremy's body with his own as shooting breaks out across the bar – opposite them Jack grabs a handful of Gavin's shirt and hauls him down to the floor with her and they all cower as bullets tear through the wooden counter.

For once it's a shootout that's nothing to do with them, but it would still probably be pretty fucking wise for them to scram.

“Fire door,” Ryan whispers into Jeremy's ear, his chest pressed to Jeremy's shoulder blades. Jeremy nods and looks up at Gavin, who jerks his head towards the fire exit as well and together they all make a silent agreement to head for it. Ryan slides his hand down the back of Jeremy's jeans and pulls out his gun – Jeremy would complain but the brush of Ryan's knuckles against his lower back makes him shudder and Ryan definitely felt that.

Jack takes out her own gun and nods at Ryan and suddenly Ryan's hauling Jeremy up by the back of his collar as Jack does the same with Gavin, pushing them both in the direction of the fire exit as they stand and shoot back.

Jeremy kicks open the door and Gavin spills out behind him, helping him hold it open as Jack and Ryan twist to sprint out, bullets flying over their heads. They stumble into the sand and the door shuts heavy behind them, the small glass window shattering in a shower of shards.

Gavin pulls on Jeremy's sleeve and Jeremy follows him down to the shore, all four of them running along the waves – behind them Jack and Ryan laugh breathlessly about something, and when Jeremy glances back he sees a smear of blood on Ryan's palm and more on the hem of Jack's shorts, but neither of them seems seriously hurt.

They all burst into the beach car park and Jack immediately leads them to the motorbike bay, shooting off the metal chain locking it to a stand and hotwiring it as Jeremy does the same with another bike.

A cop car races by on the motorway and on instinct Jeremy ducks, but then he realises it's going for the bar, not them, and he quickly swings a leg over the bike and starts it up. Jack does the same and beyond her Gavin straddles another bike, saluting them with two fingers before revving up and swerving away.

“I'll go make sure he doesn't crash,” Jack says with a roll of her eyes, hunching over and gunning her engine to catch up to Gavin.

Just as Jeremy gets the bike in gear Ryan gets on behind him, pressed up hot to his back with his chin on Jeremy's shoulder as he tucks the gun back into Jeremy's jeans. His fingers linger around Jeremy's lower back again and he chuckles quietly at Jeremy's sharp inhale.

“Your place?” He asks, placing his hands on Jeremy's hips and squeezing slowly. Jeremy shivers at the low, rumbling pitch of Ryan's voice, deep and intimate against the sensitive skin of his ear.

Jeremy nods and Ryan secures himself better to Jeremy's body as Jeremy backs out, straightening the bike out before driving up to join the motorway. Ryan noses at the back of his head and Jeremy suddenly accelerates, revving up the engine and zooming onto the road amongst the streaks of car headlights. Ryan laughs breathlessly, delightedly behind him and Jeremy grins to himself.

They barely manage to get their shoes off before Ryan's manhandling Jeremy to the sofa, sitting him firmly down and sinking to his knees between Jeremy's spread legs. He smirks and Jeremy groans, leaning in for a hard kiss that Ryan gives easily, biting at Jeremy's lower lip and paint smudging bitterly over Jeremy's tongue.

Ryan breaks away and grins as he runs his hands up Jeremy's thighs, shouldering between them to dip down and press his nose and mouth to Jeremy's rapidly forming erection and god Jeremy only just resists the urge to buck up into his face. He groans and gently threads a hand into Ryan's hair – with Ryan's nod as permission Jeremy curls his fingers to grip, not pulling or pushing but definitely holding on.

The white light of the living room glints in Ryan's eyes and he backs away to unzip Jeremy, pushing open his fly and tugging him out of his briefs, slowly dragging his hand up and down with his eyes glued to Jeremy's face. Jeremy groans and twitches involuntarily in Ryan's hand, sitting up a little more to see better as Ryan flicks his thumb over the slit.

Ryan merely presses the leaking head to his lips with a smile, catching Jeremy's eyes before he opens his mouth and starts to sink down, jaw dropping open to accommodate the head. Jeremy moans and tightens his grip in Ryan's hair, panting harshly while Ryan works more into his mouth, slowly pulling up to reveal the spit-slicked length and sweep his tongue over the sensitive vein underneath. He wraps his hand more firmly around Jeremy's base and licks all the way back up to the head and goes down on him again, lips stretched wide around the girth.

Jeremy tilts his head back against the sofa as Ryan blows him, sinking down far enough to meet his fingers and humming on the slide up. With an effort, Jeremy straightens his neck again to watch, grunting encouragingly when Ryan starts bobbing, eyes closing and throat relaxing every time Jeremy pushes up against it.

“God, fuck, Ryan, your mouth,” Jeremy gasps, experimentally pulling on Ryan's hair. It earns him a pleased moan that shudders all through Jeremy and makes his toes curl in the carpet. There's still adrenaline pumping lazily through his veins, making everything more sensitive and tingly and Ryan's mouth is hot and wet around him, spit leaking down to dribble over his fingers and leaking out of the corners of his mouth.

Ryan pulls off for a breather and glances up at Jeremy while he pants, jerking him slowly and grinning at Jeremy's choked groan. He sinks back down easily, and this time when Jeremy nudges at his throat he just rises up on his knees and angles a little and then Jeremy's sliding into his throat, the sensation tearing a moan out of him. Ryan hums again and resumes his bobbing, this time letting Jeremy slip into his throat on every thrust and god, Jeremy's not going to fucking make it. Ryan's other hand drops from Jeremy's thigh and Jeremy leans forward a little to see it slip into Ryan's own jeans and that's a whole other level of hot Jeremy wasn't prepared for and he has to sink back into the cushions.

He can't see Ryan's crotch from here but just the knowledge that's he jerking himself off while blowing Jeremy is insanely arousing and Jeremy twitches in his hot throat, pulls him up a little roughly and drags him back down – Ryan lets him, goes a bit more slack so Jeremy can slowly fuck his mouth and his breath huffs out hard over Jeremy's crotch, his eyes fluttering open and locking onto Jeremy's.

Jeremy pushes into his throat again and Ryan's eyes water, shutting again as he shudders and moans thickly around Jeremy's cock. Ryan sucks harder, now, tracing up over the underside with his tongue and sealing his lips more firmly around the shaft, swallowing when Jeremy's in his throat and drooling otherwise, spit dripping down to his chin.

“Ryan, I'm – fuck, I'm close,” Jeremy pants, urgently tugging at Ryan's hair but Ryan stays down and blinks up at him and Jeremy's gone, groaning as he comes straight into Ryan's mouth. His eyes slam shut and he leans back into the sofa as he shudders, gasping out Ryan's name all the while. And Ryan fucking swallows, too, sucks noisily to do so and Jeremy's long finished when Ryan finally pulls off, muffling a moan against the slick head of Jeremy's dick and shuddering again.

“Fuck, let me – let me,” Jeremy babbles, grasping for Ryan's shoulders and leaning forward to reach down, but Ryan's already pushing his hands away, wiping his mouth and chin on his shirt and leaning up to kiss Jeremy.

“Wanna – Wanna get you off, too,” Jeremy murmurs, reaching down again but Ryan pushes him firmly back, hands on Jeremy's hips.

“Don't worry about it,” he says, and Jeremy notes that his fingers – the ones that weren't on Jeremy - are wet, shiny and slick in the light of the living room. And Ryan's flushed under him, a new laziness to his kissing and Jeremy decides to drop the matter – if Ryan doesn't want him to touch him, he won't. Although he feels a little bad about not reciprocating, and kisses him all the deeper to try and make up for it.

And after their breathing evens out, after Ryan's bitten Jeremy's lower lip to swollen and kissed him to boneless, he finally pulls away, spit-slick lips still brushing against Jeremy's. The angle he's leaning at is terrible for Jeremy's back but he can't really bring himself to care right now.

“Can I use your shower?” Ryan asks, his voice hoarse and raspy and Jeremy flushes hot all over. “Still got the bar on me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremy says, nodding. Ryan grins and presses another wet kiss to his mouth before backing away and pushing himself up to standing with a hand on Jeremy's knee.

“You can stay over, if you want,” Jeremy blurts out, and Ryan's eyes drop away, hesitant.

“Not – we don't – I have a guest bedroom,” Jeremy adds. “You can sleep here if – if it's too much bother to go back home.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ryan says, agrees with a small smile.

In the morning Ryan leaves him a plate of cooked breakfast and a slip of paper with a number on it – not his crew phone number, it must be his personal number – and Jeremy grins stupidly to himself and laughs even though there's no one there to hear him.

“No, use Michael's car!”

“Why mine?! You'll destroy it!”

“No I won't, boi, you can trust me!”

“Gavin you crashed my Bati yesterday.”

“No I didn't, Jack, that truck drove into me.”

“Yeah, because you were going sixty the wrong way down a one-way street.”

“Shut up, Ryan. I still say we use Michael's car.”

The crew collapses into bickering – and mostly ganging up on Gavin – and Jeremy takes a long, long drink of Red Bull while Geoff very clearly and very loudly lays out all of Gavin's recent vehicle offences, from the trashed skateboard to the dented pickup. Ryan nudges Jeremy's arm and offers him a croissant with a raised eyebrow – Jeremy gladly takes it and stuff the entire warm pastry into his mouth to make Ryan laugh.

“Use Michael's!”

“Use your own!”

“...I can't.”

“Why?”

“...it's in the shop.”

“Gavin!”

The argument devolves into petty insults and laughter and Jeremy even joins in, teaming up with Geoff and then promptly being accused by Gavin and Michael of being a complete kissass. An accusation he merely waves off with a flap of his hand and an imperious frown.

Beside him, Ryan steals two more doughnuts from the box and starts munching on them, crumbs sticking around his mouth. The paint smudges when he wipes them off but Jeremy's a little transfixed at what the fuck he just witnessed. Ryan winks at him and offers a doughnut but Jeremy declines. Ryan shrugs and takes a bite of it himself, downing it with his soda.

Jeremy glances between the quarrelling crew and to Ryan and thinks back to what statement sparked this entire debate. Very specifically, whose statement.

Yeah, we can use Gavin's car for that.

“You sneaky fuck,” he hisses, and no one hears him but Ryan, who grins smugly and stuffs more pastry into his mouth. He's polished off about seven doughnuts since he set off the crew – the sneaky fuck, this was his entire plan. He's turned the crew on themselves to steal the fucking pastry box.

Jeremy's a little impressed at the cat-burglary - as Ryan would say - and a lot horrified at how much sugar Ryan's shovelling into his mouth. Michael wasn't fucking lying when he said Ryan was a trash bin.

Jeremy scratches his chin as he looks in his fridge, wondering what the fuck to cook tonight. He hasn't got much – he should really go grocery shopping, but a Friday night isn't really the time and he doesn't want to deal with the traffic if he can wait until tomorrow.

He pulls out a bowl of peppers he cut up earlier this week and sets them on the counter, grabs the bag of potatoes in the fridge. Looks like it's salad tonight, made of whatever shit Jeremy's got left in his fridge before it goes bad.

There's a knock on his door shortly after he closes the fridge, while he's washing his hands. He dries them on the towel and doesn't bother rolling down his sleeves down before walking over to get the door, grabbing a pistol on the way and tucking it into the back of his jeans.

He opens the door to reveal Ryan, no face paint and no blood-stained clothes, and Jeremy takes a moment to absorb him, from the nice jeans to the dark purple shirt that stretches over his shoulders to the smart silver watch on his left wrist – Jeremy recognises that from the jewellery store they robbed last week.

“Hey,” Jeremy says, stepping back a little to invite Ryan in. Instead, Ryan just steps up and leans against the doorframe, raking his eyes over Jeremy, who suddenly feels a little underdressed in baggy jeans and a faded Henley.

“Hey,” Ryan replies, crossing his arms over his chest. Jeremy has to force himself not to stare at all the attractive skin his rolled-up sleeves reveal. “You busy?”

“Busy doin' nothing,” Jeremy says. “Why?”

“Do you want to go for dinner?” Ryan asks, a little rushed.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah. Like – a date,” Ryan says, quieter this time, and Jeremy flounders for his composure. Ryan's smile falters and Jeremy starts nodding, unable to find the words quite yet but he definitely wants to say yes – he just doesn't want to sound like a total dork while doing so.

“I'd love to,” he settles on, grinning wide when Ryan's face lights up. “Are you – now?”

“Well, yeah,” Ryan says with a shrug. “Don't – Don't have to do it now, but - “

“No, no, now is fine,” Jeremy says, steps back more to invite Ryan in with a gesture. “Let me get changed?”

Ryan nods and lets Jeremy lead him to the sofa to wait – the same sofa he blew Jeremy on not four weeks ago, and the memory burns hot in Jeremy's mind. Since then they haven't done anything else, but they've started texting on a near daily basis, a little flirting but mostly just friendly chatting, and in real life there's been nothing more than faintly suggestive touches or glances. It's been nice, not stumbling headfirst into each other, as much as Jeremy is all for that method when it comes to Ryan, but he also likes being friends with the guy, as close to him as he is to Michael and Gavin now.

Jeremy opens his closet and almost immediately groans because he has nothing that would look good on him as Ryan's clothes do on him. Fuck Ryan and his stunning good looks. And body. And basically everything.

He guesses that Ryan's going for a slightly fancier place, picks out his nicest jeans and a plain blue button-down, shrugs a thin leather jacket on over it because that's how fancy he can get with what he has – he almost regrets not owning a suit, and then swiftly remembers he hates suits and plucks his sunglasses off the table even though it's night.

When he emerges into the living room, Ryan's on his phone, tapping away at something on it and pulling a little at his collar – Jeremy makes his footsteps louder and Ryan looks up, gasps softly at what he sees.

“You look – great,” he says, standing up and pocketing his phone in one move.

“Shut up, just 'cause you look like a GQ model,” Jeremy mumbles, smiling anyway as he shoves on his boots. Ryan flushes faintly at the compliment and Jeremy quickly goes to wash his hands.

“I still think you look amazing,” Ryan says when Jeremy returns to his side. Jeremy laughs and Ryan leans down to kiss him, his fingers curling around Jeremy's leather-clad shoulder and a restrained eagerness to his movements. Jeremy sighs and rests a hand on Ryan's hip, places the other over Ryan's scruffy jaw to tilt him a little.

“Wanted to do that for weeks,” Ryan says when he pulls away, panting quietly and his cheeks tinged pink.

“Well, why didn't you?” Jeremy asks, as if he hasn't had the same impulse and probably the same reason for repressing it.

“I don't think Geoff would take kindly to me interrupting meetings like that,” Ryan whispers, pressing another kiss to Jeremy's open mouth.

“Eh, fuck Geoff,” Jeremy says, and their laughter breaks them apart.

“Come on, I've got reservations,” Ryan says, pulling away and linking a hand with Jeremy's to lead him out. Jeremy revels in the thrill that sends up him and squeezes Ryan's hand simply because he can. Ryan squeezes back and Jeremy grins.

The restaurant is on Vespucci and their table is a floor above ground – Ryan deals with the talking while Jeremy admires the grand chandelier sparkling over the tables. Moments later he's whisked away, guided gently to the stairs by Ryan's hand on his back and they follow the waitress to the balcony.

There's heat lamps posted among the tables, paired with bright lights that glitter and glint off of jewellery and silverware. The clinking of champagne glasses accompanies the soft chattering around them, chimes of laughter mixed in with the sound.

Their table is tucked into the corner of the balcony, a clean white tablecloth draped over it with a delicate vase of pink flowers and a small candle in the middle. The waitress seats them with the menus and leaves them to decide with a polite smile.

“This place is fucking fancy,” Jeremy whispers, glancing up at Ryan. Ryan moves the flowers and the candle to the side so they can see each other, leaning in on his elbows as he peruses the menu.

“It also has the best burgers this side of the tracks,” Ryan murmurs, looking up at Jeremy. “We can leave if you want.”

“No – no, Ryan, I don't want to leave.” Jeremy hesitantly reaches out to place his hand on Ryan's and Ryan smiles, flips his hand to hold Jeremy's. “Best burgers?”

“That being said,” Ryan says, idly flipping the menu. “The desserts leave something to be desired.”

“We're on Seventh, right?” Jeremy asks. Ryan nods. “I know a gelato place nearby, we can get something there.”

Ryan smiles and squeezes his hand and Jeremy orders the cheeseburger and they steal each other's chips. It's amazing.

#ragehappy #jeremwood #fanfic #mine #trans ah #paint and metal

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