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bibbykins · 1 year

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Moonlight Reign Ch. 2

A/N: Sorry I keep disappearing, but hopefully I won't be doing it again! Nothing crazy happened, really, just life gets in the was, you know? But I am back with another part, and I hope you like it!! Everyone say thank you to my sweet B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading. She is the best, go read her stuff!! Also strap in for this one lol

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.9k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, talk of stitches, wound description, panic attack, nails pressing into palm, brief suicidal thought

Namjoon watched the clock tick by as Jungkook slept on his chest. Something about you… didn’t feel right. He couldn’t explain it, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t jealous. Although, he would have reason to be. You were beautiful and your figure only added to it. Not to mention the way you looked straddling Jungkook was objectively erotic looking– but that wasn’t the point. The point was how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. From giving his boyfriend stitches to fighting him off to reacting that way when he grabbed you, Namjoon knew there was something more there.

The seven of them had built Bangtan from the ground up, and especially as anniversary day was coming up, it unnerved him to encounter someone he couldn’t get a read on. He would need to have Yoongi look into what he could find about you. The seven of them were all leaders, but Namjoon controlled the above-ground operations while Yoongi managed the underground ones, and something told Namjoon he’d need to look there for anything about you.

First, he just had to get your full name from the younger man drooling on his chest. He sighed as he brushed a hand through Jungkook’s hair, wanting to be angry with him for getting drunk and getting into a fight, but he just couldn’t. After the last few years Jungkook had, he deserved to let loose, what worried him was that he was doing him more often than usual. Jungkook usually only acted out this much when he was holding something in. It didn’t help that the leader had been halfway across the world for the past month. Namjoon was never one to pry or be too good with feelings out of all of them, but he had a nagging feeling it had to do with you.

Eventually, sleep found the older man and he was awoken by the smell of food wafting into the bedroom. His eyes finally cracked open when he felt a kiss being planted on his cheek, “Wakey, wakey.” Hoseok sang, and chuckled at the look of confusion Namjoon gave him, “Jungkook called us all over for breakfast since it’s been a while since we’ve all been in the same city.”

Namjoon was finally fully awake and could hear Jungkook singing along to some show tune with Jin in the kitchen and scoffed, “He’s awfully spry for someone who should be nursing one hell of a hangover.” He mumbled and Hoseok snorted.

“Yeah, I’m sure Yoongi is going to want a full report on last night.” The older man shook his head, knowing it would only stress out the aforementioned man, “Brightside is he should calm down when Jimin and Taehyung tell him the news.” The younger man raised a brow in question but Hoseok shook his head, “I’m not the type to spoil a surprise.” He chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the man’s furrowed brow, “You’ll know soon enough, let’s go.”

Hand in hand, the two take their seats as Jin and Jungkook place plates in front of the five sitting men, “I see someone is trying to make up for getting trashed last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Or I just miss having all my boyfriends in the same room.” Jungkook huffed as he took his seat next to Yoongi who gave him a glare, “Oh, come on. You cannot seriously be mad at me?” He flashed his doe eyes to the man and fluttered his lashes.

Jimin clicked his tongue, “That’s not seriously going to work, is it?” He whined, “Yoongi never lets me get away with shit from just looking at him.”

“You get away with plenty.” Jin quipped at the fighter.

Yoongi ignored the commotion as his hands brushed Jungkook’s hair out of the way to look at the stitches, “Who did those, baby?” His voice was soft but with the way the youngest man shrunk, he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Well, I guess I’ll just go ahead and give the report of last night’s events.” Namjoon huffed through a bite of bacon, “You want to start, Kook?” He raised a brow.

The man sighed and nodded, “Well, I finished all my work early, like usual.” He began smugly. Jungkook in general was a skilled person, so he didn’t have just one job, but most often he was digging up dirt on people via his computer skills, “Then, I had my regular neighbor dinner.” He smiled at the thought, and Jin noticed Jimin and Taehyung scowling a bit at this. The two were the most jealous of this elusive neighbor, which was odd since even on the seldom occasions the others sought the company of someone else, it never affected any of them. Nowadays, they don’t really go outside of the relationship, but it’s still interesting to see them so jealous, but they kept silent as Jungkook continued, “We watched Jimin win, so then I decided to go out and… celebrate.” His smile turned guilty.

“This close to the anniversary, Kook?” Jin sighed and Yoongi kept deathly quiet.

“I’ll assume that’s where your memory stops?” Hoseok asked and Jungkook nodded sheepishly.

“Well, I then got a call from one of our guys at around three in the morning that some rookie was running his mouth and pissed Kook off.” Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook won the fight even sloshed out of his mind if that’s any consolation.”

“Nice.” Jimin grunts and Taehyung snickers at the glare Yoongi shoots him.

“Then, I drag him all the way here and he collapses at his neighbor’s door, insisting she’ll fix him up.” The CEO continues the story and notes how Hoseok shifts at the mention of this, “What was even weirder is that she did, like it was super normal.”

“It’s not that normal.” Jungkook argued weakly.

“She said it wasn’t uncommon.” Namjoon snapped and Yoong put his head in his hands, “I will also say it was really eerie the way she could just handle how Jungkook gets when she woke up.”

“She’s a nurse, you guys know that.” The man tried to defend.

“A high school nurse.” Taehyhung corrected, causing the hacker to pout, “I doubt she has to restrain her patients regularly.”

“Did I hurt her when I woke up?” Jungkook asked and this made Namjoon falter.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The CEO offers, “What I was getting at is I think Yoongi and Jungkook should do a deeper background check than the initial one we did-”

“No.” Jungkook spat, partly shocking Namjoon at the venom in his voice. The youngest’s face was twisted in distaste at the idea, “You all promised-”

“That was before I saw the way-”

“No!” He shouted, shocking everyone at the table as his eyes began to glisten, “I’ve known her for years now, and she’s never been pushy about what’s going on in my life or why I have six boyfriends she’s never even met and in return, I don’t ask her questions.” Namjoon’s jaw clenched at this. Most of the time if an arrangement was too good to be true, it’s because it was. If he didn’t care so much about Jungkook’s love and trust he wouldn’t have even bothered to bring it up. At times like these, being in love was more frustrating than ever as he listened to Jungkook, “She trusts me and I trust her that way, I don’t want to ruin the only friendship I have outside of us.” His voice cracks at the end, making everyone soften a bit. Jungkook was right. It’s been just them for a long time, and you were the only friend he really had. You weren’t a drinking mate or gambling buddy, you were a friend. And yet, he felt like Namjoon was trying to take that away from him.

“Kook, have you considered she might not ask questions because she’s hiding something herself?” Taehyung gently asked, but it didn’t simmer the hacker’s anger.

“I don’t care if she’s hiding anything.” He snapped, making Jin sigh, “I’m hiding plenty and none of that has stopped us from being close so please, just leave it alone.” He pleaded, but Yoongi’s expression was unreadable, “Hoseok did those couple random shadows of her a few years ago and he saw nothing of concern.” He reminded them, and truthfully, how could any of them have forgotten? The act itself caused one of their worst arguments to date. Originally, Taehyung insisted on Jungkook digging up every piece of information he could about her and giving it to them, which made the youngest even more closed off about his friend. Finally, after days of disagreeing, Hoseok was the only one entrusted with your full name, not that it would’ve been all that hard to find.

The man in question nodded, “It was quite boring actually, but it’s true. Even the phone calls she took were a snoozefest.” He sighed just remembering them, “I’d never seen such a killjoy of a college student before, and I’m sure she’s the same as a nurse.” Granted, Hoseok’s specialty was not in surveillance, but Taehyung and Jungkook were too biased in opposite ways to do the shadowing, and the chemist was the only one with the extra time to do it.

Jungkook nodded, “She really does just go to work and home.” He mumbled ruefully, “Plus, even if she’s someone else or whatever, at the end of the day, she saves me a hospital trip and hasn’t said anything to anyone, evidently.” He added and Namjoon looked to Yoongi who sighed in defeat but nodded.

“Fine, we’ll drop it.” Yoongi finally spoke and Namjoon bristled, “She hasn’t caused any trouble, sounds like a good friend, and is smart enough not to ask any questions. There’s no reason not to trust Jungkook’s judgment.” He explained to the more skeptical men, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin, who simply nodded in defeat before turning to the youngest, “Just, be more careful, okay?” He looked to the younger man who nodded before giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, “It was pretty risky bringing Namjoon there, even if accidentally. If she does know anything, she could’ve recognized him as the head of Bangtan Corp and unraveled quite a bit.” He said and Jungkook nodded. Even though he doubted you even knew an underground existed, let alone that Bangtan was running it, he understood Yoongi being weary, “Let’s enjoy our breakfast together, yeah?”

They all nodded before falling into their regular lull. No matter how much time they spent apart for work, it was easy for them to get together like no time had passed. The seven of them had been dating for a couple of years now, and though the relationship was loving, it was by no means perfect, that much was obvious. The organization had risen to its height because of their ability to work through those hardships together, but with the rise of their syndicate came less time for one another. This paired with secrets and disagreements that were littered throughout the relationship made for a good chunk of tension when work was exceptionally stressful, like during the anniversary. This was why the relationship was open, but Jungkook was the only one with a consistent connection outside of them, which was most likely why it ruffled some of their feathers.

“Now, I’m told Taehyung and Jimin have some good news?” Namjoon brings up and the two men in question grin at each other, and he can tell they’re silently deciding who should be the one to say it.

“We found a certain little weasel last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Found and captured.” Jimin added, and the two didn’t need to elaborate for the other men to know what they meant.

Yoongi smirked, sadism written along his features as he caught Namjoon’s eyes, “We’ve got an exciting day ahead of us.”

—

Your eyes cracked open slowly as you hissed when sunlight invaded your pupils. You squinted, not sure how you forgot to fully close the blinds, especially during the anniversary week, but you let it go. Work had been especially a nightmare with the beginning of a new term, and the blinds were just barely cracked, not enough for anyone to peak in much but certainly enough for the sun to wreak havoc on you. You stretched your arms forward, taking in a deep breath before craning your neck to look at the time, 10:24 am, nice. You actually managed to get a good amount of sleep even with the chaos at your door last night.

Your sleepy eyes landed on the shallow cut on your forearm beneath the wrapping you put on it. It looked a lot like a cat scratch, which you were thankful for. The last thing you needed was any nosy colleagues or students asking too many questions. Telling people you got the wound from having to tackle your only friend was less than ideal. You snorted to yourself. Truly, you should have more questions or concerns with Jungkook, but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You spend the entire first two years of your friendship insanely weary, and you already spend your time like that with everyone else. It was nice to have someone you didn’t need to constantly be on guard from. Your fingertips ran over the bandage, hoping that you had made the right choice, but even then, it was far too late to change anything now.

You liked Jungkook more than you cared to admit, even to yourself, so when you heard his telltale knocking on your door in the middle of your morning cable surfing, you didn’t even bother to turn off the TV before going to the door. You rolled your neck before opening the door with a bored expression when Jungkook’s wide eyes met yours, “Morning, sport.” You drawled, leaning against your door frame.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook took notice of the bandage on your forearm, “Did I do that?” He asked worriedly.

You shrugged, looking away from him, “If you think about it, the needle is technically the culprit–”

“Y/n, I’m serious.” He pleaded, making you straighten up, but your gaze stayed fixed elsewhere, “Look at me, please.” He spoke, and you cursed yourself for obeying. You were accustomed to following orders, and something about the way Jungkook bothered to say please made it that much easier to listen to him, but you could only hope he didn’t realize this. “Did I hurt you?” His gaze burned you, and it made you hate his need for eye contact at times like these.

You sighed, examining the guilt on his face. The look made you feel like an asshole even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t like this part of your friendship. The serious, gravelly talks about what he did last night or about whatever breakdown of yours he happened to witness. The care in his eyes was suffocating, but addicting all the same. It made you feel self-conscious about your lack of clothing, but you were sure not even a parka wouldn’t make you feel any less vulnerable. The honesty in his eyes curled around you like smoke that you had no choice but to inhale and exhale right back to him. Flat-out lying to Jungkook has seldom been an option, especially about things like this, “Fine, when you woke up you were panicked and somehow made my hand slip and caused the needle I was working with to give me a little scratch.” You explained, eyes begging to avoid his again.

“That’s a big bandage for a little scratch.” He observed skeptically and you slipped your arms behind your back. He sighed, “I’m sorr–”

You shook your head. Much like actual birthday gifts, apologies had been foreign to you before Jungkook, and you didn’t like to nor know how to accept them, “I promise, it’s no deeper than a paper cut.” You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression now unreadable, which was somehow worse than the guilt.

He raised a brow, utterly unconvinced, “Let me see.” He wasn’t asking or pleading this time, but you didn’t have it in you to go against him.

You rolled your eyes, “Only because it’s about time to take it off anyway.” You huffed, only partially lying. It was time to let the wound air out a bit, but you both knew it wasn’t the only reason. You had spent most of your life taking in and thriving on the fear, guilt, and despair of others people. You loved the taste of the power you wielded, but nothing was more sour on your tongue than Jungkook’s dim mood. You turned around, peeling off the medical tape and walking to your counter as you heard your door close. Throwing the dressing in the trash, you looked at the wound with a nod before spinning to face the man approaching you, “See? It’s nothing.” You presented the thin line of scabs to him. He studied it, face still unreadable that was, until you flinched when his hand darted out to hold your wrist. The horror in his eyes made you feel physically ill as he went to withdraw, but you panicked and moved to hold his hand there, “Come on, you know it’s not because of you.” You reasoned, voice barely above a whisper.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded solemnly. The question of who it was burned his tongue as he pressed his mouth closed. He’d seen more than enough of your episodes to know that you had plenty of reasons to flinch and he had to swallow the urge to find every single reason and end them with his bare hands. Horrible things happened to you, and he wasn’t sure if not knowing was worse than what would become of him if he ever found out. He diverted his gaze back to the scratch, and you wanted to ask him what he was doing until he leaned down. Your breathing ceased as you watched his lips brush lightly over the wound in the form of the softest kiss he’d ever given you, “There, all better.” His joking tone was strained with his smile when he stood straight again, but you appreciated the effort.

His chest felt a bit lighter when you smiled softly, “What a hero.” You deadpanned.

The reality was that Jungkook wanted to rip the door off its hinges, he was so pissed off at himself. Plus with that door gone, there’d be just a bit less between the two of you, and he needed to ignore why that sounded so sickeningly sweet. Regardless, he knew you hated moments like these, moments where the air was still but heavy with a million unspoken words between you two, so he felt compelled to throw out a light comment since he couldn’t outright comfort you that often, “I’ll be more careful, I promise. I’ve just been so…”

You nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, this week is pretty rough for me too.” You sighed, staring at the way his thumb absent-mindedly rubbed along your skin. The affection created a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t explain, but you promised yourself it was just how friends felt for each other sometimes.

“Hey, I think you’ve been doing pretty good lately.” He chided softly, and a mix of embarrassment and pride filled you at his words, “I haven’t slept with you in weeks now.” He pointed out, and the fake pout on his lips made you chuckle, mind still partially lost in the way his thumb stroked your arm.

You knew he was just trying to lighten the reminder of how your screams would wake him up some nights. On those nights, Jungkook would all but break down your door in an effort to sleep next to you. It was weird for you, even still, sleeping next to someone. It brought out feelings in you that you didn’t want to deal with, so you did your best to make Jungkook’s presence in your bedroom as rare as possible, “Miss me?” You asked sarcastically, still so lost in his ministrations. Affection is something you’d only ever gotten from the man in front of you, so it was hard to tell if it would feel this nice from anyone else.

“All the time.” He responded quickly and with so much sincerity it made your chest seize for a moment. Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking his eye contact with you for just a moment, “I hope Namjoon wasn’t a dick to you.” He spoke, snapping you out of your trance with his touch as you retracted your arm, almost deluding yourself into thinking he tried to hold onto you for a split second.

“He was just being protective of his baby.” You snickered at how Jungkook bristled with the term, “A protective dick, but I get it. I’m a total stranger–”

“Hey, you’re my best friend.” He chided, with a smile that was a bit less strained than before.

You scoffed, “I’m your only friend.”

He shrugged with a more amused grin, “I said what I said.”

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway did you only come to–” You were cut off by your phone buzzing on the table.

Both you and Jungkook knitted your brows at this. It was degradingly rare for anyone other than him or work to call you, “You cheating on me?” He playfully asked and you pushed him by the shoulder before going to answer the call.

You picked up the device cautiously, “It’s a random number.” You said lightly, but something felt wrong. “Don’t tell me I’m about to get a ton of prank calls because I pissed one of your boyfriends off?” You tried to joke as the phone finally went to voicemail.

Jungkook snorted at this, “Yeah, Joonie’s not the prank call type.”

“No way? He seemed like a real court jester.” You sarcastically said, making your friend laugh more.

“A+ on the tone, B+ for the reference.” He chuckled, and you beamed at this. Jungkook spent the first two years of your friendship helping you grasp the ins and outs of day-to-day interactions, so it was nice to see how far you’ve come. “I haven’t heard the term ‘court jester’ so casually, like, ever, but it gets points for creativity.”

“You know me, I’m a real artist- ugh, again?” You looked down at your phone as it buzzed again with the same number.

“Just answer, maybe it’s important.” He reasoned, and you nodded but the idea made you feel sick, “Oh, but put it on speaker I wanna hear if it is a prank call.” He grinned

Pushing the feeling of unease down, you rolled your eyes and answered, putting it on speaker, “Hello–”

“Y/n! Y-You gotta get me out of here, I’m–” Ice water flooded your veins as the man’s voice invaded your senses. Your eyes bulged once you fully realized Jungkook was standing right there, hearing this god-forsaken voice and you gasped before taking it off speaker.

“Who is this?” You seethed, lying to everyone in the room. You’d know that whiny voice anywhere. Goosebumps sprouted along your arms and your stomach churned as your uncle's shaky breathing entered your mind, “How did you get my number?” You demanded quietly as you turned from Jungkook and put some distance between you both.

“Y/n, they found me and I’m–” He coughed and your eye twitched, pathetic.

“Lose my number.” You ordered, moving to hang up.

“I’ll tell them!” He shouted, making you pause. You didn’t even know who “they” were, but you certainly didn’t care to find out, “I’ll tell them who you are, where you are–”

“You don’t know that.” You called his bluff, but fear soaked into your rage, dampening its strengthening effects on your body. You could feel yourself getting smaller with each millisecond of silence that followed.

“I have your number.” He challenged, and you scoffed. That was undoubtedly all he had. Jungyoon had never been built for the mind games, he was the muscle and nothing else, through and through.

“Won’t be mine for much longer, I promise.” You fumed quietly, and the whimper that leaked from him told you that was all the leverage he had, or at least you hoped so, “I’m not the one who was on national fucking TV just so I could watch a stupid fight, so you dug your grave. Don’t pass me the shovel.”

“Wh-How can you even say that I’m–” He tried desperately.

“You must have the wrong number if you’re planning on finishing that sentence.” You forced out before hanging up. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your phone on the couch.

Byungjoo was caught. If he was caught that meant you weren’t safe anymore. Were you ever really safe? Why did you stay in the country? What were you thinking? Did you seriously think Byungyeol would come back from you? Did you seriously stay in the same place he lost you like a child? And now what? You were dead, utterly dead–

No. You were safe. You had to be. You never went anywhere, and your face was never known by the public or that many people in the organization. You were smart, you had–

“Y/n, hey, hey.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the radio static that heightened the panic in your head.

You looked at him, eyes wild but in a state he’s seen before, “I-It…” The words died in your throat as panic held you in a vice grip. Your nails dug into your palm, and the pain did nothing to satiate you as your knees buckled. Jungkook caught you before you could hit the ground, and you almost wished he hadn’t. You’d give anything to feel the pain radiating up your leg, the linoleum against your palms, anything to remind you that you were in your home and not wherever the hell the people who took Byungjoo planned to take you. You steadied yourself, the haze of panic subsiding momentarily, “I’m okay.” You lied, placing your hand on the couch so you could stand on your own.

“Who the hell was that and why–” You cut Jungkook off with a look, a look you’ve both used on each other, a look that begged him not to pry so you don’t have to lie to him, “I just… I’m worried.”

“Don’t be worried.” It came off as more of a plea than reassurance, and you cringed.

Jungkook wet his dry lips as he looked you over. You were talking, but you still had that look in your eyes that promised you wouldn’t be able to for much longer. His chest ached as he watched you try to crush the panic down and put on a brave face for him. More than anything, he wanted to cup your cheeks and promise you it was okay, and if it wasn’t, it will be. He wanted to fix it so badly, do anything to ensure that you weren’t about to break, so against his better judgment, he spoke, “I heard you say something about seeing him on TV, was it that guy from work–”

“Yes.” You said too quickly, and he tensed, “He’s… uh, just unhinged, and it just unsteadied me a bit.” You nodded, the fib burning your tongue, “I guess the principal saw him last night and he got in trouble…” You sighed, it was exhausting to do this, and you didn’t want to have to do this at all, “I don’t know it just…” You simply couldn’t do it. You couldn’t force any more lies out, you didn’t have it in you to do much other than clasp your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut.

Everything you’d built for yourself flashed in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. In an instant, it could be taken away, and there’s nothing you could really do about it. You weren’t nearly as lethal as you used to be, and judging by the little you’ve heard about the heads of Bangtan, you’re training would pale in comparison to their abilities. It took them no more than a year to dethrone your father, and you had no doubt it would take them no more than a second to end your life. Now, it was no longer a matter of if, but when they were going to catch up to you.

—

Disgust infiltrated your sorrow as you watched Byunjoo smile lovingly while his wife, Minji, explained how your deaths would go with a little too much “pep in her step” as she would say to you when you were reporting the gruesome details of a job. She was disgusted with you for several reasons, but she was perfectly fine with your father, so it didn’t make sense when he directed just about everything you did. Nevertheless, you sat straight-faced as you heard the plan. Although you weren’t sure what she or your uncle was so proud of, the plan was quite simple.

You were to burn it all. You were to watch the house you grew up in, the house where you took your first steps, said your first words, and had your first kill, crumble to smithereens with the empire you were supposed to inherit. Something, though, was missing. The list of names of the people who would live to watch the ash and smoke was noticeably… short.

“...Now we will have to get rid of everyone who knows your face, y/n-” Minji explained, that sickening smile on her hot pink lips but the disgust she held for you never left her eyes. You weren’t sure what you did to make her hate you so much, but you hardly cared now that you hated her just as fiercely.

“No.” You immediately spoke, and you could see your father stiffen in the corner of your eye, but you only broke your stare with your aunt when you heard Byungjoo sigh.

He and Minji were the only two that didn’t completely crumble under your unwavering stare, and it was times like these that it irritated you. Byungjoo was the right-hand man to your father, and he was a ruthless man. He loved nothing but money and his treacherous wife, even hated everything but money and his equally soulless wife. One exception, however, was your father, and he only claimed to love you because your father did.

“Y/n, it's for your safety.” Byungjoo explained as if you were a child, as if he spoke to you with any kind of decorum when you were a child, as if you were so easy to pacify when it came to the slaughter of the staff in this house that raised you.

“If you do it, I will throw myself into the fire,” You seethed and Byungjoo chuckled, assuming it was a joke. He always did that. Took your defiance of him as a silly comment or you being a rebellious teen, regardless of the fact that you were about to be 19 and never respected him enough to consider your disagreements rebellions, “I swear on the blood of my father, I will die with those people,” Byungjoo ceased his giggles immediately.

Your father, however, took your death threats seriously off the bat. Byungyeol was not stupid enough to take the little words you spoke as anything other than what you meant. He was the one who taught you not to waste your breath, after all. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if your death would make a difference, but there was that glint in your father’s eyes still that told you he just might care. His dying pride remained intact barely and you, his only child, were his only legacy, a legacy that needed to live on.

Byungjoo may have been a bumbling idiot, but he could see the resolve in his brother's eyes. Minji had no such tact as she clicked her tongue in distaste, “Y/n-”

“Let it go.” Your father’s voice sounded, startling the couple silent while maintaining sharp eye contact with you, waiting for your gaze to waver even slightly. When you remained headstrong he sighed, “Make the list of who lives, y/n, and they will.” He spoke with a finality you’ve heard countless times before turning to your aunt and uncle, “End of discussion.”

—

You should’ve done it. You should’ve opted to burn. Regret pooled into your senses until it was all you could feel, until the only thing you could see was that beckoning flame, calling your name to come home.

Just as you could feel the sting of tears behind your lids, you felt him. Two hands slid over yours and rhythmic tapping reverberated throughout your skull from above your ear. You slowly opened your eyes, and Jungkook occupied your line of sight. He did you the grace of looking away. You weren’t sure if it was because of the shameful sight in front of you or if it was because he knew you were embarrassed, but you liked to pretend it was the latter.

1, 2, 3, 4

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he listened for your breathing to stabilize. He looked above your head at the clock on the wall and sighed. He was going to be late for his meeting with his team on digging up the whereabouts of the most coveted target. He could easily walk away, but he stayed rooted in his spot, tapping in quartets as he waited patiently for you to calm down. Though he didn’t understand your affinity for the number, and you never disclosed it to him, he was thankful to be observant enough to notice it at times like these. So he watched the seconds tick by as he tapped, pausing for a few seconds in between each grouping, because the thought of leaving you alone like this felt like it would kill him. He already has a hard time sleeping knowing you’re just a few steps away, there’s no way he’d be able to work knowing you were in the throes of an episode. Finally, your breathing was becoming consistently normal until–

“No.” You whispered with something utterly sick to his ears laced in the word. It was fear. You were scared, and he had no idea why. Never in your years of friendship had he seen you truly afraid like this. He looked at you, boundaries be damned, and saw you were fixated on the TV.

Turning his head to see what it was, his entire body froze.

You had left the news on, and on it, Namjoon stared back at you as he conducted a press conference… as head of Bangtan Corporation. It was like your world ceased turning. The pressurized cracks on your life here gave in the moment you looked to Jungkook and realized he saw what frightened you, and you could see the wheels turning on why it could be. No poker faces could be had between you as despair reflected in both of your pupils. You were terrified to discover one of his boyfriends was the head, or at least one of the heads of Bangtan, and he was devastated to find out you knew enough to be afraid.

It was over, for both of you.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #mafia bts #yandere mafia bts

403 notes · View notes

heavyhitterheaux · 1 year

Text

Play (Based on the song by David Banner, NSFW 18+)

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: Imma head out to take a bath in holy water lmao enjoy my heauxs!

Synopsis: You can't be with Jack for his entire tour and since this is the first time that this has happened, you come up with a bright idea that will hopefully hold him over. That idea involves a camera and your best friend Urban.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader, Urban Wyatt x Best Friend!Reader

Requested by: a lot of my beautiful readers 😘💖

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU ARE NOT 18+

There was about a week to go until Jack's Creme De La Creme tour was kicking off and you couldn't have been more excited for your husband. However, he had been in his feelings ever since you had told him that you wouldn’t be on tour with him for the entire time. Majority of it, yes, but still in his feelings nonetheless. Your heart broke at the sight of his solemn expression when you told him that there were a few dates that you would have to miss.

"Baby, it's only a few shows." You said while trying to reassure him, but he wasn't having any of it.

"A few shows my ass."

"Smush!"

"What!? You’re basically divorcing me."

"Jackman! That's a little dramatic don't you think? It is literally less than five shows."

"Not the point. You know I want you near me at all times."

"I know my baby. However, I trust Urby will keep you in check…. Actually I take that back. I don't trust either of you alone. The two of you are always doing something."

"Neelam is our chaperone."

"Mm hmm. I trust her about 15%."

"I know you remember the look on her face when you almost beat her ass, I doubt that she ever wants to be in that position again. She knows better and you should give her the benefit of the doubt."

"I'm getting there. I can at least take being in the same room as her."

"She's trying baby girl."

"She wouldn't have to if she didn't pull that stupid ass shit."

"Okay anyway. Moving on."

A few minutes had passed and Jack noticed how you were staring at him.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

"That's it."

"What's it?"

Jack pulled you onto his lap and you were simply smiling at him.

"What if we make a little video for when I'm not on tour with you?"

Jack then got a startled look on his face and you couldn't do anything but laugh.

"I'm listening."

"Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

"Baby, don't tell me that if you aren't about to back it up. You know how your ass likes to run."

"I promise, baby. Whatever.You.Want." You leaned down while whispering in his ear.

"Hmm let's get started!" Jack said while flipping you onto your back so that you were underneath him.

"Wait, babe."

"What am I waiting for!?

“First off, we haven’t set up the camera. Second, I umm kind of have a request. But it’s okay if you say no.”

“What you want to request, baby girl? Choking? Spitting? Spanking? Cream pie? Actually that’s my request but go ahead.”

“Urban.” You quietly said while breaking eye contact with your husband.

“Excuse me? Come again?”

“I want Urban to film it and be in it. But, only if you feel comfortable enough. I get it if you say no.”

All Jack did was get a more confused look on his face trying to take in what you had just told him.

When he was quiet and didn’t say anything, you immediately went into an explanation hoping that it would make sense to him.

“I’ll explain why. The other day when Urban had met up with some girl, he came back and told me all about it and well… I had a thought. That I wanted to have both of you at the same time and whatever he did to her, I want both of you to do to me. And like I said… whatever.you.want. I have multiple holes for a reason. You know that there are very few things that I’m not comfortable with so you and Urby can have at it.”

Jack was quiet for a few seconds taking everything in that you had just told him.

“The thought of having one of you in my mouth while the other is sucking on my clit is doing things to me. So, baby, I need an answer.”

“Yes, on one condition.”

“Anything, baby.”

“I want to watch him fuck you first.”

After you had gotten your confirmation from your husband, you went to find your best friend who was messing with his camera on the couch in the living room. You simply moved everything to the side and sat directly in his lap with him looking at you as if you had lost your mind.

“Uh? Can I help you?”

“Actually you can, bestie.”

“What is it now? I am NOT going with you to buy another vibrator. We were gone for three hours trying to find the perfect one that was up to your standards.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not that, but it is something else along those lines.” You answered while taking a strand of Urban’s hair and twirling it around your finger.

“Y/N, out with it already. What do you need? I can always tell when you want something.”

“I know that you’ll do absolutely anything for me.”

“Within reason and if it’s something that won’t get us killed or arrested.”

“Well this has nothing to do with that.”

“Baby girl, say what you need and stop stalling.”

You took a deep breath before finally answering Urban.

“I want you to fuck me. Senselessly if we’re being honest.”

Urban’s eyes went as big as saucers as he was looking at you. He promptly slid you off of his lap and immediately jumped up in disbelief.

“Uh! One little issue or should I say big issue! You’re married to my best friend! Or did you suddenly forget? My best friend who is UPSTAIRS as we speak!”

“I know.”

“YOU KNOW?!?! THEN WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME?! I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING IN THE HARLOW HOUSEHOLD! DO YOU WANT YOUR HUSBAND TO KILL ME!?"

“Urby calm down, I want both of you at the same time until I am a sticky, crying, whining mess that can barely walk.”

“There is no way Jack agreed to this. This has to be some sort of prank you’re pulling on me.”

“But he did.”

“I don’t believe you. As jealous as your husband can get? If someone looks at you for too long he's ready to kill them.”

“Hmm, fine. Ask him yourself. BABY! COME HERE!”

Jack came down the steps and into the living room to where the both of you were and saw the look of disbelief on Urban’s face.

“He give you an answer yet? I just have to get a few things and it’s a go.”

“AN ANSWER FOR WHAT?!”

“Since baby girl won’t be on tour with us the entire time she came up with the idea. She wants you to film it so it’s something I can take with me.” Jack answered as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

“I-.....”

“And she wants you in it.”

“Oh. She really wasn’t playing.” You simply shook your head no while looking at him.

“Ehh I don’t know. The last thing I need is you kicking my ass. And we know how jealous and territorial you get over your wife. I’m getting flashbacks to when we were 17. I just knew you were about to kill me then and all I was doing was admiring her outfit.”

“I agreed to it so it’s 100% fine. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She said anything we want is fair game. Within limits of course.”

Urban was quiet for a few minutes weighing his options.

“Come on Urby. Just imagine me a sticky, crying, whining mess underneath of you.” You said while brushing a hand through his curly hair.

“If I say yes, I have one request or maybe two.”

“Anything. Nothing is off limits for my two favorite people in the world.”

“Jack might not like to be deep-throated, but I do.”

“Consider it done. What else?”

“I’ll save that one as a surprise.”

“Oh, and I should tell you…” Jack started to say while looking at Urban.

“What?”

“She agreed to have you fuck her first while I watch.”

—

“Urban, you look nervous.” You said as you were watching him set up his camera.

“I’m not.” He proceeded to say while peeking over at you and you couldn’t help but to stifle a laugh.

“You sure about that?” Jack asked observing the exact same thing.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think that there’s ever been a time when I’ve seen you nervous because you definitely are. So you can stop with the bullshit. Besides, it’s your best friends and you have nothing to be nervous about.”

“Oh, I know I don’t have anything to be nervous about. You’re the one who should be nervous.”

“Oooh Mr. Wyatt talks a good game. I would love to be able to see you back it up.”

“I’ve never disappointed you in anything else have I?”

“Well, no.”

“And you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hurry up and start recording.”

“Is there something else important you have to do?”

“No.”

“Then stop rushing me so I can make sure that everything is right.”

You then looked over at your husband who had a small smirk on his face.

“What is your ass smiling about now?”

“I have another request and I want for you to do this first as soon as Urb gets everything set up.”

“Hmm, I’m listening.”

“First I need you in that purple lingerie set that I bought you. Then I want you to touch yourself and use your vibrator before either of us touch you.”

“I love the way you think.”

—-

As promised, once Urban had everything set up it was a done deal. You were in one of Jack's favorite lingerie sets like he had asked and was now in the center of the bed, vibrator in hand with the camera facing you.

"Damn, baby, I can see how wet you are from all the way over here. Who got you that wet?" Jack said while admiring the scene in front of him.

"Only the two of you."

"And make sure you spread those fucking legs. I want to be able to see that pretty pussy."

You did as you were told and began to trace small circles along your clit imagining that it was Jack or Urban doing it.

Both of them were dead silent with their eyes on you wanting to take in the sight of your body being displayed for them.

As soon as you entered your pink vibratory inside of you, you could have swore that you heard a small moan slip out from in between Urban's lips.

"Spread your legs wider mamas. Don't get shy on us now. You wanted me to record this so I expect for you to do as you're told. You said anything that we want right?" Urban inquired as you increased your movements and let out a soft moan.

"Don't you start that shit. Answer him." Jack piped up.

"Yessss, fuckkkk."

"Good girl."

You then removed your vibrator to the side and quickly inserted two of your fingers into you and started to slowly move them in and out knowing that the both of them were bricked up by now.

You felt how close you were to reaching your peak and soon inserted another finger and increased your pace.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."

"I guess this is what you're up to when I'm not around to give you this dick."

You ignored Jack since the only thing that you were focusing on was giving yourself an orgasm in front of your husband and best friend just like he had asked.

It only took three more thrusts of your vibrator when you felt warm liquid spilling from you and running down your legs.

"Baby girl, don't tell me we have to change the sheets already."

"We can keep them a little while longer." You said after a few minutes before throwing your vibrator to the side.

You then made eye contact with Urban and intensely held it as you undid your bra in the back of you.

You made sure to throw it at him and it landed right at his feet.

"Are you going to stand there or fuck me like you promised?" You finally asked as Urban slowly took off his clothes in front of you.

He then slowly climbed on top of you and was simply admiring the gorgeous body in front of him.

“Damn, who knew that this pussy would be so pretty?” Urban asked as he was making tiny circles along your clit making you shudder. As requested, Jack was sitting in the far corner of the bedroom watching the two of you.

Who knew that he would be so turned on by seeing his best friend fuck his wife.

“And you’re already so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. Jack wasn't lying every single time he says how gorgeous your body is."

“And I’m going to need for you to hurry the fuck up. And he had better said that about me.”

“Patience, baby girl, patience. Keep having that attitude and me and Jack will edge you the entire night.”

You looked up at Urban in disbelief and your mouth opened and closed several times before you answered him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but we would baby. Be a good girl and do what we say.” You heard your husband reply and all you could do was roll your eyes. You didn’t think either one of them caught it, but that thought quickly went out the window once you heard Urban.

“You got one more time to roll your eyes at me before I fuck that attitude out of you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Urban suddenly stopped his movements on your clit before sliding into you without warning making you gasp.

He let you get adjusted to his size before slowly going in and out of you, making you moan out his name.

“Oh, shiiiiit, Urban.”

“Damn, you’re tight as hell. Spread those legs for me and act like you want this dick.”

You did as you were told and soon reached up to bring him closer to you if that was possible.

Urban then reached down to take one of your breasts in his mouth and he was lightly sucking as he continued to pound in and sped up his pace.

“Fuckkkkk.”

“Tell me how it feels, baby girl.”

“So good, so fucking good.” You said in between breaths as you hugged Urban closer to your chest.

“You gonna be a good girl tonight and do exactly what we say?”

You nodded your head yes not trusting your mouth to communicate for you because of the amount of pleasure that you were in.

“I asked you a question, mamas. Answer me or I’ll stop right now.”

“Yessss! I’ll do anything you say, just don’t stopppp.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything Urban. Damn it, you heard me the first time I said it. Oooohhh fuck!”

“Then get on your knees.”

Urban slid out of you and waited for you to do what he had told you.

“Look at me.” Urban said while lifting your chin with his finger.

“Can you do something for me, pretty girl?”

“Depends on what it is.” You answered and all Urban did was smirk while Jack looked as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you.

“Open your mouth and my dick better not leave it until my cum is sliding down your throat. Do you understand?”

You simply nodded, but Urban wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“Baby! What did I tell you? Use.Your.Words.” You heard Jack exclaim from the other side of the room.

“The answer is yes and are you about to put your dick in my mouth or not?”

“Here you go with that attitude again.” Urban said as you took him into your mouth all the way until he hit the back of your throat.

You admit since Jack didn’t like to be deep-throated that it might be a challenge for you seeing how big he was. However, you had said anything that they wanted you to do that you would do it and you definitely weren’t about to back down now.

“That’s it, baby girl. Damn you’re doing such a good job. I’ll make sure to award you for this later.”

So, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Confirmed.

It had only been not even three minutes when you had to take a break and Urban looked down at you in disbelief.

“Nuh uh, what did I tell you? Who said you could stop?”

“I’m definitely punishing you for that later.”

You didn’t even bother responding to either of them and once again went back to the task at hand.

At this point in time, there were literal tears rolling down your cheeks and at this point Urban had put your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulled you even closer to him which made it seem like he was close.

“Fuckkkkk!”

You felt warm liquid hit the back of your throat and Urban titled your head back to look down at you.

“You better fucking swallow it too.”

You did as you were told and soon saw your husband out of the corner of your eye get up and start to make his way over to you.

“You already know what position I want you in and you have five seconds to get there.”

“And if I don’t?” You curiously asked while still on your knees looking up at your husband as Urban had now moved to take his place on the couch where he had been sitting.

Jack then placed his left hand around your throat and lightly squeezed and you knew if it had been a puddle in between your legs before that it was now a waterfall.

“You usually never get this fucking smart with me so I’m surprised. I guess because Urban is watching but you need to cut that shit out now.”

“And…. if.I.don’t?” You once again asked and you could now tell Jack was about to fuck you into oblivion.

What he didn’t know is that you would always do this on purpose.

Jack let out a light chuckle before picking you up and throwing you onto the bed but not before making one of his favorite requests.

“Open your mouth.” You followed directions and was soon met with Jack spitting in your mouth and making you swallow it.

“Spread your fucking legs.” He told you as he stroked himself a few times and you could see the precum dripping out of it.

You spread them as far as your body would allow before Jack slowly slid into you bottoming out.

“Oooohhh shiiiiiit.”

“Got damn you’re so tight and feel so fucking good. Still not used to it after all this time.”

“Hurry up and make me cum.”

“I’m going to be doing a lot more than that, but if you keep that attitude up, I won’t let you cum for the rest of the night and you know that you can hold me to it because I just did that shit to you last week.”

You had gotten flashbacks of your husband edging you for more than three hours and definitely did not want to got through that again.

So you decided to stay quiet.

This time.

You had now pulled Jack closer to you as he was mercilessly pounding into you making you scream his name at the top of your lungs.

“Jackkkkkk!! Fuckkkk!”

Jack suddenly stopped his movements and looked down at you and you were confused.

“Is that what you’re supposed to call me when I’m in you?”

“No.”

“Then fix that shit and what are you supposed to call me?”

“Daddy.”

“Don’t mess up again. You understand?”

Jack then continued his movements in and out of you when you had wrapped your left leg around him.

He increased his pace as you were trying to grab a hold of anything to help anchor you.

“Mrs. Harlow better stop running away from me. Take this dick.”

“Shiiiiiit, I’m close.”

“I know. Cum for me baby, cum all over daddy’s dick.”

With only two more thrusts you did as you were told Jack and made himself comfortable in between your legs and took one long lick making you shudder.

“Ehh. I can’t.”

“You can and you will. Come here.” Jack replied as he slowly started sucking on your clit and he grabbed both of your thighs to keep you in place. You had barely recovered from his making you cum the first time and it was safe to say that the corner of your eyes were now watering because of how much pleasure that you were in.

“Come on baby, let me at that pussy. You can take it. Keep your legs spread.”

“AHHHHH fuckkkkk.” Your hands immediately went into Jack’s curls and you were tugging on them to pull him even closer.

“Same person who said they couldn’t take it, but now look.”

Jack then inserted two fingers into you and then lapped at your folds at the same time.

Your breathing became heavier and that’s how Jack knew that he was about to make you cum for the second time.

“I know you’re almost there, baby. I can tell.”

Not even thirty seconds later, a rush of liquid made its way onto your husband’s face.

“Got damn, Y/N, I had no idea you were a squirter.”

“You never asked, Urby.” You responded while looking over at him.

Jack then flipped you over so that he was underneath you and you were on top of him and Urban was now behind you.

“Your jaw isn’t tired yet, right baby?”

You simply shook your head no as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.

As you were moving Jack in and out of your mouth you felt Urban take one long lick over your folds and you immediately shuddered not having recovered from Jack doing the same thing to you less than five minutes ago.

“Come on mamas, don’t run now.” Urban said as he continued working along your folds.

Trying to concentrate on both of them had proved to be difficult in the beginning, but then you had gotten into a comfortable rhythm.

You then felt Urban move higher and you immediately let out a gasp.

“Stay fucking still. Don’t you dare move.” Urban continued his movements as you felt as if you just had the wind knocked out of you.

You would have probably made Jack cum by now, but you were distracted by the amount of pleasure that Urban was giving you.

“Fuckkkk, Urban. Shit!”

“Move again and I’ll fucking stop.”

“You heard him mamas, act accordingly like I said.”

You made it up in your mind to get Jack back for that and would have him begging you to let him cum.

It had been a few minutes before you felt Urban slowly enter you from behind and immediately started pounding into you.

“Fuckkkkkk, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“I didn’t plan on it.”

"Do you want us to cum all over your face pretty girl?" Urban asked you and you eagerly nodded.

As promised you were a sticky, crying, whining mess who was begging for mercy.

You had lost track of how many times the both of them had made you reach ecstasy, but you knew that it had to be close to double digits.

No.

Scratch that.

It was definitely double digits.

"Speak up, pretty girl. Tell us exactly what you want. You've been such a good girl for us." Jack said while bringing your chin up to look at him.

"I want all of it running down my face until I can't see straight."

"As you wish." Jack answered you as he sloppily kissed you and pushed you down to your knees.

Not even a minute later your face and chest was covered with both Jack and Urban’s cum and you proceeded to place some on your fingers and then bring them to your mouth to suck on.

“Such a good girl for us.”

“And make sure you get all of it.”

Once you finally finished, Jack helped you to your feet and he leaned down to kiss you.

“That should be enough for you to last on tour, right?” You asked while looking up at him.

“Hmm, it should be but we’re nowhere near done with you.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Rest up, baby girl. I hope you didn’t forget about us punishing you.” Urban said while looking over at you and you suddenly looked at him with wide eyes.

“Fine. Then I have a request too.”

“Anything mamas.”

“Whose face am I sitting on first?”

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt concept #urban wyatt #urban wyatt x black reader #urban wyatt smut #urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt luff #jack harlow concepts

642 notes · View notes

ugh-yoongi · 11 months

Note

Congrats on the 1k!!!

Can I request an idol boyfriend Namjoon and y/n drabble? Something like they’re on a museum date and Joon is being his intelligent/passionate about art self, talking all the artwork and whatnot, and y/n just gets so turned on so they end up hooking up in a hidden part of the museum? 👀

namjoon being an enthusiastic art heaux? this is right up @effortandmore's alley. thank you for this request, though. this one was fun.

most of the history on the piece described here is from the met's website, here. it's a really interesting and heartbreaking piece; i encourage everyone to check it out.

(also, this is more "waxes poetic about art" than anything else. smut takes me forever to write and i figured you've waited long enough, so you'll have to headcanon it, i am so sorry. also, something about this piece just screamed namjoon to me and i wanted to write it. hope you enjoy anyway!)

nydia

pairing: namjoon x reader (no pronouns used) genre: established relationship au; fluff warnings: can be read as idolverse or not, one mention of suicide (the story behind the sculpture is pretty depressing), light swearing, namjoon being hot and smart, unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1k

The next gallery you walk into is vast.

Full of windows that cast a mid-afternoon glow on the floor. Stained glass casting colors. In here, everything feels grand. Feels a little overwhelming, reminds you of your place in the world: small, irrelevant, hopeful. You’re standing in a room of giants, both literally and metaphorically.

Namjoon is large on his own, but here it feels endless.

Diana is centered in the room, light dancing across the bronze. As you stare up at her, you wonder if she’s happy with this iteration. If she mourns her original purpose, poised atop one of the city’s most recognizable buildings, now long-gone. Demolished. You wonder if she’s content to be stationary when she used to go the way of the wind.

She’s stunning, even as a replica of her original self, but she’s not what Namjoon came here for.

What Namjoon came here for is also in the center of the room. The marble she’s carved from is more modest than Diana’s glittery bronze, but no less impactful. Her name is Nydia, and Namjoon has been obsessed with her since he’d gotten his hands on a first edition of an old novel, out of place amongst his poetry, but inspired by art and weathered by time and someone else’s devotion to it.

“There she is,” he says, and the room is vast and empty but you could make out the hushed awe in his voice from miles away.

You tuck yourself into his side, feeling just as small next to him as you do next to all of these sculptures. Laugh softly, endlessly endeared, at all the pamphlets he has clutched in his hands. History upon history, always something else to learn, and you could write just as many on the man beside you.

“Tell me about her.”

Namjoon looks down at you. Smiles. Says, “Her name is Nydia,” even though you know that already. “Randolph Rogers sculpted her in 1856. She’s based off of the character from The Last Days of Pompeii.”

You study her. Admire all of her intricacies, all the love that had gone into creating her and telling her story: her closed eyes, the broken Corinthian column lying at her feet, the movement of her dress. You’re vaguely aware of her story, recited to you by Namjoon over the span of three afternoons, one for each volume, so you know enough to know the tragedy, but you’d be able to feel it if you hadn’t.

“In the novel, she was kidnapped and enslaved and rescued by a man named Glaucus. She falls in love with him, but he’s betrothed to Ione.” He sighs, subdued; probably knowing too much about unrequited love. Probably relating too much to the sculpture standing tall before him. “There’s a lot that happens in between, but Vesuvius erupts and Nydia leads Glaucus and Ione to the Bay of Naples, where they’re able to board a ship to safety.”

Namjoon reaches out, careful not to touch, and traces the air along Nydia’s fingertips, her hand that’s raised to her ear. “She’s blind, so she’s used to navigating by sound. Everyone else in Pompeii is unable to see through the ash and rock, but Nydia has never been able to see, so she’s able to get them to the ship by listening to the ocean.”

The two of you share a quiet moment. You wonder what it must’ve been like, living through the chaos of that day. Watching, hearing the world burn down around you, helpless to stop it. Knowing you’re doomed to your fate. You wonder if you would’ve made the same decision as Nydia, if the pain of loving someone who doesn’t love you in return would hurt too much to be selfless. You wonder if it would’ve haunted you.

“What happened to her?”

Namjoon remains quiet. You almost think he doesn’t hear you, but then he answers, just above a whisper: “She decides that death is preferable to the pain of her unrequited love for Glaucus and kills herself. Slips into the sea.”

“Oh.”

The huff of laughter that tumbles out of Namjoon surprises you. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to be depressing.”

“It’s not your fault. I’ll just have to write a strongly-worded letter to Edward Bulwer-Lytton.”

A full-on cackle. “Yeah. Let me know what he says.”

“Probably, ‘Sorry my novel upset you, but I’ve been dead for a hundred and fifty years.’” You sigh, trying to shake off the dregs of sadness. “Tell me about Rogers. Is that less depressing, at least?”

Namjoon lights up the way he always does when you ask him about art: entirely, with his whole being. Looks like the first time you told him you loved him, and you think they’re probably the same, that they say the same thing. “Mostly. C’mere.”

You follow him to another sculpture. Ruth Gleaning, it says. “He carved this one, too. It was his first large-scale work, since he’d mostly sculpted busts of tourists after he moved to Italy. Nydia was much more popular, though; a year or two later he was commissioned by the U.S. to do the bronze doors for the Capitol building. He was also commissioned to do a statue of John Adams but it got lost at sea.” Namjoon looks anguished at this. “Fuck, can you imagine? He had to redo the whole thing.”

“Sounds a lot like you.”

“Wow, rude.”

The two of you share another laugh, but you’re struck by all of what Namjoon is. Intelligent, empathetic, eager. Always wants to bring you into what he loves, always wants to share it. Doesn’t deem anything unworthy of knowing, because you wouldn’t have thought Namjoon would know all of this, the history of an American sculptor forgotten behind the likes of Calder, Nevelson, French. But he has assigned spaces for everything, so of course he knows.

It’s a little overwhelming, how much you love him.

How much you want to know him the way he knows everything else.

The gallery you’re in is vast, but it’s filled with love. An artist’s love for its subject, your love for Namjoon. They say the same thing.

#work: 1kfm #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jewel answers #jewel writes

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thesirencult · 7 months

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YOUR HUSBAND IS NOT AN ATM

I get it. There are countless accounts here and on every single social media platform that advocate for a dangerous type of "hypergamy". That type of a relationship will only make you feel unauthentic and unfulfilled with your life.

If the only use your partner has for you is to be a money printing machine, then you are not a high value woman but a high value heaux. There's nothing wrong with that but even "heauxs" have more talents, skills and financial freedom than some women who will put themselves into dangerous situations by submitting to a high earning man WHO IS NOT A HIGH VALUE MAN !

Being submissive to someone requires you to have some form of strength before that you "give up". You can not submit to someone lower than you.

So, build up your position ! There are great men who are providers without being multimillionaires. If you are interested in living a luxurious life then you should either a. MAKE YOUR OWN MONEY, especially at first or b. do yachting. If the b. choice is up to your standards and you have no problem being treated like a piece of meat, be my guest.

In the past women who chose men for money were weak women who came from environments that didn't allow them to flourish. They had to do everything to survive. I respect that.

What I don't respect is you, who could learn a high performance skill, sell it online and make much more in the long term than those only fans and by keeping your VALUE and SELF INTEGRITY.

Power couples are so much stronger than couples with power plays. The last is only for the bedroom 🔥.

All in all, invest in yourself internally and externally. Become a high value balanced woman and the right man for you will come along.

#hypergamyblr #hypergamous #hypergamy #level up journey #leveling up #level up #feminine advice #feminine energy #thesirencult #siren energy #seduction #48 laws of power

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ramp-it-up · 2 years

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Chubby Dumpling

Summary: Chris misses his chubby dumpling.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader RPF

Warnings: Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI. SMUT, RPF. FaceTime sex, pet names for body parts, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mentions of female receiving oral, squirting, and p in v. Praise kink, voice kink, Dom/sub if you squint.

A/N: This drabble is a result of the following ask from @bloomingpresent :

Can we have something about him using this nickname for reader and when he actually finds out in this video that people is using it with Sebastian too he kinda gets more into it. “How’s my chubby dumpling doing?”

Today was a good day for me to be a heaux. We were blessed with the puppy interview, so I had to incorporate things from that as well as the ask, such as lyrics from Return of the Mack. Sorry not sorry. If you enjoy, let me know! 😘

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

“I miss you Sweetheart.”

Chris’s soft, gentle drawl made you feel warm all over. And miss him just a little bit less.

“Mmmmm. Miss you too Baby.”

You rolled over and smiled at the sound of Chris’s voice. You opened one eye and stared at his handsome, but tired face. It was 5am in Boston, but it was 6 pm where he was.

Chris took in your sleepy morning face, hair up in a scarf; it was his favorite look on you. He only wanted to see it next to him and not 7,000 miles away through his laptop.

But he smiled wider and winked at you, making you giggle.

“How was your day?”

Chris sighed. You could tell that he was a little wound up.

“Hectic. Tons of press, seems like we spoke to a hundred different journalists.”

You woke up a bit, heart beating faster the longer you looked at Chris. Stretching while holding the phone, your white see-through tank top was revealed above the comforter.

Your man did a double take at your trapped nipples straining against the material. He was hard instantly. He moved to take off his shirt. Soon you heard the sound of his zipper. But you played it off.

“Any original, interesting questions?”

“Nothing like the puppy interview. Or that time with Seb.”

Those eyebrows started to dance and you laughed, stretching again.

“You don't remember a thing you were asked in the puppy interview. And let’s not talk about that interview with Seb..”

Chris got serious when he saw your body again. And comfortable on the bed.

“Speaking of… how’s my chubby dumpling doing?”

Chris was leaning against the headboard of the bed and his room and you could tell by the movement of his arm what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes and ignored his question.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

You bit your lip as you waited for him to answer. He played along.

“I’m gonna meet Seb for dinner in a couple of hours. Gonna have some fun in the casino.”

“Don’t have too much fun.”

Chris watched your mouth turn into a delectable pout and redoubled his efforts.

“Now, Darlin, you know that Seb’s a simp for you. He would murder me if I even look at another woman.”

“That’s right! Seb’s my boy! He knows what’s up.”

Your proud smile was so sexy.

“Luckily, you and your boy don’t have to worry about that. Especially since I have the most beautiful woman in the world to look at whenever I want on FaceTime.”

“Aw. Love it when you try to run game, Chrissy.”

“Well. I can tell when my little girl wants my pearl…”

You cracked up laughing.

“I can NOT with you Christopher!”

Chris loved to make you laugh. He fell in love with you when you were laughing.

“Yes, yes you can. Now, you tried to distract me, but I asked you a question, Sweetie.”

Chris peered at you.

“How’s my little chubby dumpling doing?”

You stopped laughing and cleared your throat.

“Chris…”

“Answer me. And you better not roll your eyes again.”

You gulped and weighed everything he said, but you were needy, missing him like crazy. So you decided to be good.

“She… she misses you…”

You ran your tongue across your bottom lip and bit it as Chris groaned.

“Well, your guy misses you too. See?”

Chris pointed his phone at your friend, who was all swollen and leaking in his hand. You grabbed and licked your lips.

“Damn, Baby. I need it.”

You were too sprung.

“Really?”

Chris’s face was in view again. His eyes were glazed over and those red lips were moist and open.

“Show me.”

You hurried to get your panties off.

“Take off that top too. Damn I wanna bite those nipples.”

Your pussy pulsed at his words and you whimpered as you pulled the tank over your head. You reached for the stand that Chris bought you for these occasions and put it between your legs on the bed. You started to knead your breasts as Chris groaned at the sight of you.

“Fuck! There she is. My little chubby dumpling. I wanna eat that fat little, tight little pussy. Look how wet she is. Spread those lips baby.”

You moaned as you did what you were told, head thrown back and leaning against the headboard, back arched.

“God! I wish I were there to see that tight pussy clench around nothing like that. I’d give it something to squeeze.”

Chris gazed at you through the phone.

“Waddya want? My fingers?”

Chris’s eyes moved from your cunt to your tits to your face, which was blissed out already.

“Uhmm hmmm…”

“Ya want my tongue? I need ya ta sit on my face”

Chris’s voice was broken now, Boston definitely coming out, and your fingers moved, collecting your wetness and spreading it around your pussy and clit.

“Christ, Chris.”

“I wanna make you squirt again. Remember the day I left?”

You struggled to catch your breath as you recalled the multiple massive orgasms Chris gave you as a going away present. Your fingers dipped into your heat as you grasped your nipple with the other hand.

“Gooooood girl. That’s so pretty Darlin, you’re doing so good. You got me hard and now I’m about to cum. Will you cum with me?”

You whimpered again. Chris’s voice was everything.

“I know what you need. You need me in that pretty little hole. You want me to stuff that chubby little dumpling full of my big, hard, cock, Baby?”

And then he panned down again, showing his hand stroking his massive cock.

“Fuck! Ye-he-YESSSSS!”

You started to cum when you saw him manhandling himself. His thick shiny head was playing peekaboo in his palm.

“Ah! Fuck! S-so hot! Don’t stop! Take it Baby!”

You rubbed yourself as long as you could while at the same time watching the magnificence of Chris’s cock and his cum spurting all over his chest and his hand.

You collapsed on your back and listened to Chris moan and tell you you were gorgeous; the phone was still set up between your legs.

“Such a beautiful sight.”

Chris laughed when you leaned up and raised your eyebrow at him. You started giggling, curling up under the covers as you got sleepy again. You watched him go to the bathroom and clean up, eyes drooping.

“Get some more rest sweetheart. I might take a nap before dinner. I love you.”

“Mmmmm. Love you too, Chrissy.”

“Take care of my chubby dumpling!”

You laughed, flipped him off across 7,000 miles and ended the call, knowing that you would get another when he went to bed.

You looked forward to a fun lunchtime FaceTiming Chris in your office.

With the door locked.

Feedback is a joy forever! TIA for comments & reblogs! 💕

#ask dj #chris evans #chubby dumpling request #return of the mack #chris evans puppy interview #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #seb stan #chris evans fan fic

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sailoryooons · 10 months

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Hi it's me, your favorite demon sailor scout. I recently hit another follower milestone and I want to take a second to wax poetic about how grateful I am to have all of you here! I am not doing a milestone event for this celebration because I am in the works of setting up Hali's Happy Agust, but I wanted to give some thanks.

First and foremost: thank you to everyone who follows me. Whether you are a silent reader or someone who comments/reblogs/chats often - you are so appreciated and you make my day in whatever context you exist in this blog space. I hope you remain happy and healthy.

Second: I am very blessed and happy to be here. Writing in this community has given me more than I ever thought that it would. I have met the most outstanding people, some of which will be my best friends for life. Writing has always been my greatest love, and it means the world to me that I do it in a space with so many wonderful readers and writers. Being here has turned my life around for the better in so many ways.

Third: The road on Tumblr has not always been very easy. I have seen a lot of terrible things come across my dash and within this community over the last few months, and a lot of toxicity and time spent in the negative spaces of this fandom. I encourage everyone to choose kindness, to block when you're uncomfortable, to cultivate real and honest friendships, and to say kind things to others as often as you are able.

I want to give a special thanks to the following people who are readers and writers who have made me feel loved, seen and supported on this sight - I don't talk to all of you every day but you have made a huge impact in my experience here:

@here2bbtstrash @gimmethatagustd @yoongukie-ff @jjkeverlast @daechwitatamic @theharrowing @caelesjjk @eoieopda @jihopesjoint @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @kth1 @moni-logues @kithtaehyung @sleeplesseliza @mapleleaf000 @kittycat1dsn @borahae-k @amethystwritesbts @echotoyou @sweetestofchaos @chryblossomjjk @jimilter @rapline-heaux @matchy6812 @sal-jimin-limon @violetsiren90 @pamzn @minholykingofkorea @sabiekay and every single person in the BTS Fantasy and Fangs server!

#thank you thank you thank you #another milestone bites the dust

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dawnagustd · 2 years

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SURPRISE! || KTH

❃ Festivaled Away: Daredevil Week hosted by @bangtanbathhouse

⤞ Ticket: Adrenaline Rush ⤞ Main Event: A Dare ⤞ Games: Exhibitionism

⤞ title: SURPRISE! for @kithtaehyung ⤞ pairing: taehyung x female reader ⤞ genre: smut | established relationship ⤞ summary: Your boyfriend is sending you nudes, again... And also helping you discover hidden kinks? ⤞ word count: 1.5k ⤞ warnings: taehyung with the gold chains | female masturbation | exhibitionism | praise kink | dom!taehyung | sub!reader | phone sex | voice kink | teasing | a little begging | dirty talk | nudes | erotic humiliation | finger sucking | orgasm control | a little obedience play? | Sir kink | pet names | idk if it classifies as a plot twist but yeah...to be safe. ⤞ rating: 18+ ⤞ a/n: Happy Birthday to one of my bestest friends!!! I love you, Ryen!!! And I hope this little drabble brings you another smile on your birthday! Today I present 1.5k words of dom!Taehyung finishing heauxs with only the sound of his voice. Thank you @taechwitaaah for beta-reading this for me at the last minute. Thank you @yoon2k for the prompts! Oh, and for context, this is why I sent you a playlist lol. SURPRISE!

“Why would you do this to me?”

You close the restroom stall quickly and lay out some napkins before you sit on the toilet.

His deep voice chuckles on the other end of the line. Your airpods intensify the sound, making you bite your lip to suppress the soft moan that threatens to escape you. You cannot stand your boyfriend, but right now, you want him buried deep inside of you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Taehyung lies, right through his teeth.

You scoff, looking down at the pictures he sent you. He’s lying in bed wearing nothing but his boxers and a gold chain, making your body shiver with want. Unfortunately, you’re working…on your birthday.

“You know, asshole. Stop playing with me.”

“Or what?” You can hear his amused smile through the phone. When you don’t say anything, he hums. “That’s what I thought.”

“Shut up. You’re mean.”

“Aw, come on. I was going to be nice to you, baby.”

The statement piques your interest, and you shift in your seat thinking of what that might mean.

You clear your throat. “What do you mean?”

“Are you alone?”

Before you answer, you look under the stall’s wall for another pair of legs, but you find no one.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Good.” There’s a pause in the conversation and then some shuffling on his end before he speaks again. “Tell me what you’re wearing. Touch everything you call out, and don’t skip anything.”

“O-Okay.”

Slowly, your hand comes up to your blouse, and your fingertips run along the seams of your collar. You take a small breath before speaking to calm yourself.

“A navy-blue blouse,” you state and then your fingers move down to your buttons, “With gold buttons.”

“Fuck, the sheer one?” he curses.

“Yeah.”

“Black bra?”

“Mhm,” you confirm.

“Damn. Alright, keep going.”

Your hands move further down your body until they reach the waistband of your pants. Your thumb slips under the fabric slightly so you can pinch the button.

“Black pants and—”

“Black panties,” he concludes on your behalf. “You can stop right there, sweetheart.”

You stall your movements until you receive more instructions. However, Taehyung wants to take a detour.

“I wanna hear more about your panties,” he informs. “What do they look like?”

“They—”

“Are you touching them?” he quizzes, and you deny.

“No.”

“No?”

“No, Sir.” You can feel him smirking once you’ve corrected yourself.

You lock your phone and tuck it in your pocket before unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down partially.

“They’re black and lacey, Sir,” you continue while slipping your right hand inside of your trousers.

“And?”

“It’s a thong, Sir?”

He scoffs. “That’s not what I meant, smartass.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

But you’re really not.

“Mhm. Tell me what I wanna hear, okay?”

With a small smile, you move your fingers between your thigh and gently graze the thin material, feeling it dampen under your skin. Taehyung catches the gasp you make, even though it’s soft and barely audible.

“Sensitive, aren’t we?”

“Taehyung, please,” you plead. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Watch your tone, and I’ll treat you well, okay?” You agree to his terms and do whatever he asks. “So, black, lacey, and what else, baby?”

“Sir…”

“You better tell me, or I’ll hang up—”

“And wet,” you confess, purposefully purring your words. Your middle finger traces the outline of your clit while you patiently wait for Taehyung to grant you permission. Although he’s taking up more time than you have available. “Sir…?”

“You can touch yourself,” he permits.

A sigh of relief leaves your throat, and you begin testing the waters, trying to discover your level of sensitivity before you apply any pressure. Once you’re confident in your movements, you switch from slow timid strokes to drawing quicker circles against your lace-covered bundle of nerves.

Obscenities travel through your clenched teeth, earning a satisfaction from your boyfriend, who sits quietly listening to your sounds of pleasure. Eventually, he cannot stop himself from whispering naughty things in your ear.

“Hm, look at my baby getting nasty for me in public,” he points out, making your cheeks burn, but you keep going. “That’s why I love you, you know?... Always down for anything.”

“Sir, I’m close!” Your voice comes out high-pitched, but you quickly cover your mouth to stop the sound from traveling.

“Already worked up, huh?” he laughs. “You can get off anywhere, can you?”

You nod as if he can see you. However, when you think about the fact that he can't, you try to respond, but he points out something very important.

“Wait. You locked the door, right?”

“Uhh…”

You didn’t, but right now, you have no time to care.

“Ah, you didn’t… That’s so fucking hot,” he nearly moans. “I bet you’d like someone to walk in on you like that. I can only imagine how sexy you look sitting there.”

His deep voice sends vibrations through your airpods, making your ears tingle and your body quiver. It seems to lower when it’s dripping with lust. It has the hair on your skin rising and your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Fuck. You’re going to make me come, Sir,” you pant.

Your clit pulses under your touch, threatening to succumb to the stimulation at Taehyung’s command. Your eyes are screwed shut, your mind gone and unaware of the presence entering the restroom until the creaking door closes.

Quickly, you open your eyes and alert Taehyung about your guest.

“Baby, someone’s in here,” you tell him.

“So,” he scoffs. “And this is your last warning about watching your mouth, kay?”

You groan but still seek the orgasm you’ve been trying to obtain. The person still stands at the entrance, but you can’t hear if they’re speaking because Taehyung’s voice is invading your eardrums.

“What are they doing now?” he asks. You try to peek under but can’t see anything.

“Nothing,” you whisper. “They’re just standing by the door.”

“Interesting. Maybe you should keep going.”

“What?”

You’re afraid you were too loud, but when the person doesn’t come to investigate, you settle down.

“Come on. I dare you to keep going… Get cum all over those pretty fingers for me so I can lick them clean—”

“Shit!” you cry into your palm. Without much convincing, you return your attention to your throbbing clit, and the pressure that never faded continues to grow. Your panties are soaked, and your fingers wrinkled and sticky with your arousal.

You sob Taehyung’s name, and he sings praises in your ear, complimenting you for being his “good girl.”

Coincidentally, your eyes glance down, and you notice footsteps approaching your stall door. You’d forgotten about the person already, and the only thing you can do is inform Taehyung through your cries of pleasure.

“Sir, they’re coming… I’m going to—”

“Open the door,” he interrupts.

“Sir?”

“I said open the door and let them see what kind of filthy shit you do for me,” he insists, and your mind goes blank.

The thought heightens your adrenaline and leaves your body moving on autopilot. You lean forward and slide the latch so the door can slowly swing open, revealing the lewd act you’re committing to whoever is on the other side.

Your mouth falls open when his tall stature and messy black hair appears before you, but you have no time to react because of the voice traveling through your ears.

“Come.”

Within a second, your body stiffens with an intense wave of pleasure. The goal of staying quiet is forgotten as you cry out for your boyfriend in your moment of euphoria. You try to grab at anything you can find, but the only thing you can focus on is the man in front of you and all the pleasure he gives you.

You drink him in as he stands in front of you in his gray sweats and fresh white tee, chain still hanging around his neck. He blocks the restroom lighting, but his skin still glows because of the warm tones his melanin naturally gives off. The smirk on his lips leaves you trembling, and your head lolls to the side as you become jelly under his sinful gaze.

You watch in awe as your boyfriend steps forward and removes your hands from your pants on your behalf. You stare wide-eyed as he takes each finger in his mouth and sucks them in, humming when your arousal reaches his taste buds. Taehyung releases each of them with a pop, and once he’s done, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Everything alright, baby?” he teases.

You’re only capable of nodding. Luckily, it’s a sufficient enough answer for him.

“Good,” he chirps, straightening his posture.

Curiosity floods your mind when he begins to pull down his sweats, but you aren’t clueless for long.

“Now come and blow your candle, birthday girl.”

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts x reader #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #bangtanbathhouse #festivaledaway #btsdreamcourt #bangtansorciere #bts fanfics #taehyung imagine #bts imagines #sugakookitty

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hoodharlow · 1 year

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Hurts to See Me Out Your Reach

AN: I got this idea thanks to @heavyhitterheaux and her heaux-vities <3 also this is poorly written bc I finished at 5:17 am lmao

Requested? No

Warnings: smut and mentions of cheating

Word Count: 1.7k works

Jack sat back on a couch in the VIP area and watched Karla lose herself on the dance floor. The way her hips swayed to the beat as she danced with her best friend, Destiny. They squealed in unison, yelling 'that's our song' over the unnecessarily loud speakers. Karla wrapped her arms around Destiny and held her close as she sang the lyrics to whatever song was playing.

A new song played. It was slower and more sultry. Karla's eyes met Jack's as she pressed her ass onto Destiny's front side and she shook her ass on her friend. Destiny ran her hands over Karla's body, egging him on, teasing him that he wasn't the one touching her.

The large diamond on her left hand reminded Jack of his place. He knew better than to approach her. He couldn't risk it, even more so since her fiancé was sitting across from him. Though her fiancé was more preoccupied on the blonde and redhead bottle girls serving him over priced and watered down alcohol.

He was signed as a producer and songwriter for Generation Now. The only reason why he even got signed was because his dad was one of DJ Drama's accountants. The way he talked about it made it seem like Drama took him under his wing and mentored him. He was a few years older than Jack and Karla. The few times Jack worked with him were horrible. He slowed Jack down. Because of him, Jack faced a lot of setbacks in his music. He was more focused on letting people know where he was with and with who instead of doing his job. After a few unsuccessful studio sessions with him, Jack asked Drama to never pair him up with Karla's fiance.

Karla was the true talent. She had an ear for music. Everything she touched became a hit. Unfortunately no one knew that because her fiancé screwed her over and was somehow able to claim all her work as his. But once her trust fund starts coming, she will get the credit that is rightfully hers. Jack offered to help her, but she explained that it was a long and expensive process.

Jack getting involved with Karla was purely accidental. They met at a label event, much like the one they were currently at. Karla went as a favor to her now fiancé because they were on a break, one of many throughout their relationship, but he had told his parents that he was bringing her. He ditched her after he introduced her to his parents. Jack approached her and made small talk that led to them hooking up in his hotel room.

When they met again, weeks later, Jack found out that she got back with the guy. It was supposed to be a one time thing, but somehow every time they were at the same event they found themselves in his car or in some secluded room relishing in each other's bodies.

"There she goes acting like a fucking slut." Karla's fiance grumbled loud enough for Jack to hear.

He dramatically pushed himself off his seat and walked over to Karla. Jack saw how he pulled her away from Destiny and harshly whispered in her ear. He turned back and made his way back to the VIP area without letting her get a word in. He plopped back in his seat and went back to ogling the bottle girls.

Jack knew what he was about to do was risky, but for Karla he'd risk anything. He went down to the bar where Karla and Destiny were. He sat a few seats away from her and waved down a bartender.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked him.

"Cranberry juice with sparkling water." He said, nervously tapping his card against the wood table top.

Jack reached for a notepad and pen, writing that there was an exit to his right. He thanked the bartender when they came back with his drink. He paid and signed the receipt. He slid the receipt back to the bartender them he slid the note he wrote to Karla at her. Jack took his drink and went out through the back exit near the bar. He leaned against a light pole and waited for her.

"Are you fo'real?" Karla asked him as she approached him.

She knew he saw her fiancé scold her for dancing. It was humiliating that she was basically powerless against her fiancé. She would have left him a while ago, but the only thing stopping her is that he owned all her writing credits. Everyone thought he was some hot shot producer and songwriter, but it was all a facade. Everything he had was because of her. She was grateful to have Jack in her corner. He was one of the first to realize that her fiance was an untalented fraud.

Part of her felt bad for cheating, but part reminded her that she's only with him to claim what's . Not to mention she also knew her fiancé was also cheating on her. Karla caught on instantly. He wasn't as slick and secretive as she was. He was uncreative with his lies and stupid enough to leave a an electronic trail that was easy track.

She looked over shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed as Jack led her to his car. Destiny was covering for her and telling her fiancé that she was getting air.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked her instead of answering her question. He opened the passenger side door for her. "I saw how he–"

"He's just being a prick because I have let him hit it in months." She said, setting her small purse and jewelry in the cup holder.

"You know I'm here for you, right? Not obly as the guy you fuck behind your shitty fiancé's back but also as a friend. I know you're only with him until your trust fund can come in, but if you need me, I'll be there."

"The only thing I need is your cock in my mouth." She said, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded.

Their lips met with a soft peck. Without breaking their kiss, she climbed to his lap and cupped his face. As their makeout session escalated, their hands began to explore each other's bodies. Karla ran her hands along his chest while Jack's landed on her hips. One of his hands slipped down to her ass.

Eventually Karla pulled away and retreated back to the passenger side. She slipped off her platform heels. She unzipped her dress and took it off, staying in only her dusty pink panties. Jack took the hint and took off his pants and boxer-briefs. She leaned over the center console with her ass on the air.

She took his cock in her hands and spit on it, slowly jerking him off with both hands. She slipped him as far as she could take him. He let out an incoherent sound until she reached the back of her throat. She did it a few more times, egging him on. She pulled away, with a trail of saliva spilling from the corner of her mouth, and kissed down his length.

One of Jack's hands tightly gripped the grab handle while the other was on her ass. He roughly squeezed her ass, massaging it. He slipped his hand inside her panties and felt her arousal. He pulled down her panties so he had better access to her.

"Oh, Jack." She moaned out, resting her head on his thigh.

Jack brought his fingers to her ass and sucked them. He opened up her legs more so that he had more room. He slipped his ring and middle fingers in her. Karla cried in pleasure as he furiously thrusted his fingers into her. Her climax came out of nowhere. She clung to Jack's thighs and repeated his name.

Once her high faded, she took him back in her mouth. His stomach began to contract after a few bobs, letting her know that he was close. Slowly, she pulled him out of her mouth until only his tip rested on her tongue. She widened her eyes, making her look more innocent as she stroked him.

"Wanna cum in your pussy." Jack said, pulling her up.

"Okay," she said, kissing him softly.

She climbed to the backseat and Jack followed behind her less gracefully. He settled in the middle seat shirtless and with his cock stood proudly.

"Ready?" He asked her.

"Yeah," she nodded.

Karla stood on her knees over Jack’s cock and reached down for it as she rubbed arousal on it. Jack grabbed her hips and guided her down his cock. Both let out a satisfied moan. Karla grabbed the headrest and slowly rode him, getting used to him. Sion after Jack met her thrusts. They were urgent yet passionate. Karla was a moaning mess for him.

Jack watched her dainty Tiffany necklace bounce on her chest. He pulled her lips back to his. They moaned into each other. Karla rode him with more urgency, but he pulled out of her.

Karla couldn’t process anything because next thing she knew, Jack laid her on the car seat. He planted one of his knees on the seat and wrapped her legs around his torso. Karla’s whimpers filled the room as he thrusted back into her. One of her hands gripped his bicep while the other traveled down to her clit.

While she rubbed herself, she panted. “I’m going to come.”

“Fuck—can you hold it? I’m almost there.”

Karla nodded.

Jack slowed his thrusts. They were deeper and more precise, he took her as if he was making love to her. Karla pulled his mouth to hers. This kiss itself was also slow and soft.

Karla closed her eyes, she was close. “Eyes on me Karla.” he said. She opened her eyes and met Jack’s. They were full of love and admiration.

With one swift movement both came undone, moaning each other’s names. After another heated makeout session they got dressed.

"Don't forget this." Jack said, holding up her engagement ring.

"I wish I could." She sighed.

"You got a little," he motioned the trickle of cum in the corner of her mouth that went down to her chest.

"I know, that's for him." She smirked, making him chuckle. She leaned her forehead against his and kissed him. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too."

He kissed her with full force, not knowing the next time he was going to see her. It could be days or weeks from now. But right now he was taking advantage of this moment with her.

Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezyxo @youngharleezy @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @whywontyoulovemecami @meyocoko @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @a-moment-captured @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract

#jack harlow smut #jack harlow #jack harlow one shot

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notepadsandtealeaves · 9 months

Text

Dick Grayson x F!Reader in: The Penalty Round

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| GN!Reader | M!Reader | Ao3 Version ||

|| Dick’s Tag | Batboys M.list | Batboys Tag | Personal Blog ||

|| The SFW prequel: The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library || || F!Reader (Ao3) || GN!Reader (Ao3) || ((some links pending))

↠ Requested By: The ~heaux~ in me ↠ Reader Gender: Female ↠ Content Type: NSFW af ((make no mistakes, I will 100% fight a kid if I see them on this post)) ↠ CWs/TWs: There’s nothing too out there, but still make sure to peep the in story note for the deets. ↠ If you’re looking for a beta-ed work you have come to the wrong place, my friend lol. ↠ Total WC: 3k~

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?” His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving… “Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…” You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier…

↠ Who says you can’t win for losing?

This brief bit of spiciness with my second favorite Bat is brought to you by The Thirst™ lol. I’m trying to get back into the swing of things, so if this is just “meh”/anything seems off blame that…

|| The Penalty Round

💦 Tags: Reader uses she/her pronouns | Reader has female anatomy | Pre-established relationship | Dick’s waistline being problematic | ((said problem is that my legs are not currently wrapped around it #madaboutit)) | ((why is it like that, if not for us to grab, huh? HUH??!)) | A v. brief mention of cum eating (Reader) | Oral (Reader giving) that leads into throat fucking (kinda rough, but not too much) | OP’s Dick’s praise kink is showing | Which means there’s lots of pet names (good girl, baby, honey, etc.; Reader receiving) | Reader gets that good oral-handy combo | Unprotected sex (remember to be safe IRL, so on and so forth) | Vaginal sex (more specifically a mating press, Reader receiving) | Knowing me there’re probably some v. light dom/sub undertones | ((that wasn’t necessarily my intent, but it is kinda my brand lmao)) | And finally a bit of afterglow‘n’cuddles before falling asleep in Dick’s arms because that is the Good Shit™

“Ready to settle up, love?”

The question is posed over the muted sound of Dick depositing you onto his bed. His preference for a softer, cushier mattress doesn’t allow for you to bounce, but rather you sink into its plushness with a giggle. Any answer you might have given is lost under another peal of mirth as he follows you down with a laugh of his own. Long limbs cage you in as he settles the perfect amount of weight onto you and the feeling grounds you even as the drag of his lips over your pulse point has you arching into his touch. Kisses tease themselves up the length of your neck and across the breadth of your face; he’s thorough, covering every spot readily available to him while simultaneously avoiding the pout of your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to voice your displeasure, but your breathy whines are only met with a playful chide.

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?”

His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving…

“Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…”

You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier. The weight of his want has lidded a gaze that is more pupil than iris, with the vivid blue having been ceded ground like a freshly eclipsed sun. Altogether it’s a look that says he’s more than ready to devour you whole and with the way he’s got you feeling right now you’re beyond down. He knows this, of course, and it definitely shows. A smirk slowly creeps its way across the plush of his mouth as he rises up to his knees.

“But if you’re that eager to do something with those pretty lips of yours, well…”—his thumb drags across your bottom lip with a deliberate slowness, reveling in the slight bounce it gives when his touch moves to trail down your chin—“I guess I’ll just have to put them to work then.”

He reaches back to gather a fistful of his shirt before pulling it up and over his head. Though the movement is tantalizing in and of itself (the way his arms and stomach flex as he shrugs out of the clingy material has to be illegal, at least in a few states) what it leads to is undeniably better. You whimper at the sight of him—the sleek, but powerful musculature, its broadness tapering out into a taught waist that just begs to be held on to, be that under the curve of eager palms or trapped between equally willing thighs.

His hands are purposeful as they ghost their way over his frame, from the soft whorls of hair that cover his chest and beyond. The short, downy soft strands’ raven hue contrasts beautifully with the natural tan of his skin enticing your eyes to follow the trail down to the sharp V-cut of muscle and further still to the joggers that sit sinfully low on his hips. It’s here that his hands linger, just for a moment, just long enough to make you squirm with impatience. His fingers dance along the band a few times before he finally, finally hooks his thumbs in and pushes the material down. The move isn’t nearly as smooth as everything that has preceded it, can’t be when his ass is that damn fat, but at this point you’re too gone to care.

With that final barrier gone his cock sits proudly on display, curved deliciously and bobbing under its own weight. Your mouth goes dry as you take in the dark flush of it, the way precum pearls against its tip before spilling over into a trail that your tongue is desperate to follow. He’s already so hard and yet he somehow manages to get even harder as he takes himself in hand and begins to stroke. The play of his pretty fingers over his equally pretty dick is mesmerizing, so much so that you don’t even realize he’s moved until the tip is nearly touching your lips. Without any cognizant thought on your part your tongue darts out to catch his still dripping arousal before retreating back into your mouth so that you can properly savor your prize; as always the taste leaves you groaning and greedy for more, your lids fluttering as you swallow thickly. The needy (and thoroughly debauched) display has Dick chuckling darkly.

“Such a good, eager girl,” he coos as his free hand caresses your cheek.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up, not when your lips have already parted as wide as they can go, your tongue lolling out in anticipation. The sight leaves him cursing hotly under his breath as he guides his length into your waiting warmth. You both moan at that first contact, though the vibration of your pleasured mewl sees Dick’s devolving into a gritted out hiss; at the same time his hips stutter but he’s able to stop himself before he gags you. This kindness isn’t extended for much longer, however, as he’s quick to set up a pace that’s just this side of brutal.

With every forward push his cock goes that little bit further until he’s fully fucking your throat. The sound of your moan laced gags can just be heard over your man’s near continuous stream of curses and praise. Though the angle makes things a bit more perilous you brace yourself and let Dick take what he needs, what you’re all too willing to give.

“Look at the way you swallow me down,” he pants in a voice that sounds just as wrecked as you feel, “my good, perfect girl. So, so good, always so good…”

It’s clear that both of your brains have fuzzed over—his from the pleasure that has him damn near shuddering above you, and you from his very apparent approval. You work your tongue along the underside of his cock as much as you can wanting, needing, to make him feel even better, to draw more of those sweet words out of him which you most certainly do. The pair of you are trapped in this feedback loop of lust for only a few minutes more before Dick is pulling out fully with a half-choked growl. You only have enough time to take one lung filling breath before his lips are crashing into your own. The kiss is a raw, feral thing full of tongue and teeth and a desperation that has you tearing at one another’s clothes.

Once your bottoms are gone an impatient hand makes its way to your center and Dick lets out a breathy little curse at the sheer amount of wetness that greets him. “All this just from sucking cock, babe?” he asks on a chuckle as he coats his fingers in your slick, their pads tracing teasing circles around your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The jolt of pleasure that courses through you reduces your reply to a reedy cry of his name that trails off into a hiccuping moan, a thing that clearly suits your man just fine.

“I was ready to fuck you into the mattress,” he continues on in a tone far too casual, all things considered, “but hearing you sing so pretty for me makes me want to play with you a bit more, so I think I will…”

The fingers that had been working your pearl over so perfectly close around it in a pinch that has you arching sharply off of the bed with a hiss. The movement is cut short, however, by him once again settling himself over you. Though he starts with his head tucked in against the crook of your neck, the vigilante has always been a restless one. It doesn’t take long for him to cut a trail of hot, opened mouth kisses down the length of your body until he’s at level with your dripping pussy. A dreamy sounding sigh of “So pretty~” is all the warning you get before he’s diving in like a man starved.

You shudder at the feeling of his tongue dragging itself over your already sodden flesh, Dick’s name a ragged cry on your lips as your fingers curl in against his hair. He likewise shivers at the bite of your nails against his scalp, humming his approval all the while before pulling away just long enough to tell you—promise you—that he’s going to make you lose your mind. And he’s as good as his word. He doesn’t let up, his tongue laving and twirling against you in shifting patterns that leave your head spinning and your legs shaking. His hands are just as busy as one keeps your hip anchored while its opposite works in tandem with his talented mouth.

“You sound so. Fucking. Cute.” The declaration is made some long moments later when his need for oxygen finally outweighs his greed for your cunt. His voice is absolutely wrecked with his desire, though you can barely focus on the rasp of it when he’s punctuating those last few words with suckling nips against your thighs.

You whimper out his name in reply only for the appellation to scale up into an opened mouth gasp when he takes advantage of the mess he’s created between your legs to easily slip a finger into your tight hole. A second soon follows the first before he purposefully curls them against that spot. You jolt up against him as pleasure skitters across your body like lightning. Moans claw their way out of your throat as you grind shamelessly up into him, your arms winding around him somewhat awkwardly in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

“Mmm~ I think she likes that,” he chuckles darkly as he continues to massage your walls. “That’s right honey, keep rocking those hips for me—need to work you open, get you ready to take me…”

You’re too far gone to fully comprehend what he’s saying, with your mind only really being able to focus on the sinuous purr of it all. Lust has deepened his voice into something specifically designed to leave you fully under his spell, and enthralled as you are there’s no perceiving anything outside of you and him and the pleasure that’s drawing closer with each pump of those ridiculously long fingers. You rut against him with a desperation that would be embarrassing if Dick wasn’t just as gone. He doesn’t have it in him to tease you right now, not when he feeds on your pleasure and you’re so close to the edge. He murmurs your name before pulling away from you to watch you chase your bliss with a ravenous intent. His gaze darts over the length of you in an attempt to drink in every little detail as words that blur the line between praise and pleas are panted down at you. His movements grow more pointed as yours become more frantic, the crescendo building up-up-up until–

“Oh fuck babe. That’s right—give it to me.”

A sound that’s caught somewhere between a moan and a sob squeaks out of you as your body tenses before going lax under the weight of your release, but that’s hardly the end of things.

“Fuck,” Dick growls lowly, his body slinking down further still so that he can hook your legs over his shoulders. When he comes back up to level his eyes are consumed with want as he grinds himself against you. “____, baby, do you have any idea how goddamn delicious you look right now?”

You try to reply, you swear you do, but between the orgasmic haze that hasn’t even begun to fade and the feeling of his cock pressing hot and heavy against you, well… You figure you can be forgiven for whatever the fuck it is that actually comes out of your mouth—not that it would’ve been audible anyway when your man’s tongue is so tangled up with your own. He sucks down your mewls of pleasure only to feed you his own as he reaches down to take himself in hand. His cock, hot and sticky with your combined arousal, slaps against your pussy a few times in rapid succession before he pushes finally, finally pushes into you.

Dick finds his rhythm quickly, settling on something hard and fast enough to have jostled your body forwards with each thrust had his bulk not been there to hold you steady. There’s a certain frantic energy to the way he fucks you—as if he needs to be inside you like he needs his next breath, as if the few seconds he has to leave you on the backstroke are too long to bear. It makes the encounter desperate in a way that that you usually only ever experience when he’s had too close of a call on patrol. You feed off of this, into it, clawing at whatever bit of him you can reach though pinned as you are all you can really do is lie there and take it–

Well until a particularly good downwards thrust leaves his dick brushing up against your sweet spot. Your reaction is instantaneous, your walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip that nearly sees him collapsing. His mouth parts around a moan that has you clenching up all over again as he catches himself on shaky arms just moments shy of crushing you.

“Fu-fuck… Fuck! That’s– It’s too damn good, babe. I-I’m already so close—you keep doing that and I’m not gonna last…”

There’s barely a sliver of sapphire to be found when he looks you over with wide, lust-blown eyes; said eyes cross just a bit when you bare down again, and when combined with the flush that sits high on his cheeks and the loose loll of his mouth he’s just one drool trail away from something straight out of the most obscene manga panels. The sight would’ve left you laughing if it weren’t for the way he rolls his hips into you in a deep grind.

You sigh his name as you urge him closer to you. From here you can feel the way his lips part under his pants, your breaths mingling as you tell him, beg him, to fall apart for you—“Please baby, want it. Want you to fill me up…”

“Yuh-yeah,” he starts, nodding wildly. “Yeah, I can do tha– Ah, shit! So fuckin’ tight… God, fuck—kiss me.”

He doesn’t give you time to comply, his lips already moving to crash into yours within the same breath. The kiss is sloppy and short lived, however, with Dick pulling away a few moments later to moan out your name as he redoubles his efforts. His strokes come fast and choppy as they lose their rhythm with each passing stroke until he’s abruptly stilling over your with a punched out sounding sigh and a shiver. The feeling of his release pouring into you is enough to push you over the cliff after him, his name on your lips as you give yourself over to ecstasy’s free fall.

The pair of your work your way through your orgasms with heaving chests, and in your case limbs that feel like jelly. As the euphoria begins to fade the mood easily slips over into something softer and more subdued. Dick, clearly still lost to his pleasure noses at your cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing sweet, lovesick nothings into the flushed skin there in between peppered kisses. The heart achingly tender display leaves your chest squeezing in the best of ways, and while you’d love nothing more than to bask in the afterglow of his affections for a long while yet your current positioning isn’t exactly the ideal setup in which to do so.

Your displeased little whine is all the hint your man needs and within the same moment your legs are being gently lowered onto the mattress. He flops onto his back right after, arching into a dramatic bow of a stretch—the sound that escapes him as he does so certainly makes you Feel Things, but you’re not trying to start something your already fucked out body most definitely cannot finish—before moving to curl himself around you. Insistent hands work to soothe away any aches you feel, starting with your hips, though he soon decides this can best be achieved by cradling you against his chest. Having been put through your paces you’re essentially dead weight, but that’s never been a hindrance before. Just one of the many perks of dating a man that moonlights as a vigilante, you muse with a silent laugh as he moves and settles you with ease.

You sigh contentedly as you allow yourself to sink more fully into his warmth, with any lingering tension that your muscles insist on trying to hold on to melting away under his care. Sleep has already started to blur the edges of your world, with the haze steadily creeping in to dull all of your senses until you fade out in full. You don’t register the slight shifting of your body or the soft glide of sheets that follows. The feeling of Dick pressing one last, lingering kiss against your temple is likewise a distant sensation, though his words are just able to slip underneath the fog–

“I love you, baby—always.”

–and that five word declaration, spoken with all the gravity of an indisputable truth, is the last thing you hear before you give yourself over the land of dreams.

© notepadsandtealeaves/TheViperQueen, 2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#so i'm back. kinda lol.#dk when i'll update next but at least i'm writing again #anyways...#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x f!reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson smut #((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys))

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sinsandsuccubus · 2 years

Text

𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙬’𝙨 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ➾

𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Light of Love - He was better.

Bf!Jack Things - A Boyfriend Jack Blurb

Hotel Motel - You and Jack get stuck together.

𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩

K.O - I guess football is in season.

Last Night: "I don't wanna feel, how I did Last Night."

28 Reasons - “Ooh-ooh, I'm breaking every rule”; “I want to keep tormenting you”

Sunday Night - “Somethin tell me that a relapse comin.”

I Wish You Roses - “With pretty flowers can come the bee sting”

𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

Sensitivity - You had a rough day, and Jack’s there to make that all go away.

Luv is Dro - You let Jack take his frustrations out on you.

Team Defense - Don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Roses - "Do you know what today is? It's our anniversary. Made for you and me"

Movie Star - You like the way Jack sings.

Rings - Part 2 of Roses.

Sex Memories - "Yeah, woke up to a text that said, 'Are You sleepin'?"

Green Green Green - Green is your new favorite color.

Sundress Season - “Tis the season to be horny”

Piece of You - Jack leaves you something before he goes on tour.

Break of Dawn - To call out, to not call out?

Coming Home to You - He’s Finally Home.

Good Morning - Jack comes home to wake you up with a good morning.

𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙨

𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙨

“If I were a penguin, I’d search the whole beach to find you the smoothest, most perfect pebble.”

“What did you do to me? I’ve never loved a person like this before.”

“How do I feel? You put me in a difficult position, so you should have asked me that before you did it.”

“I don’t care how late you are. By law, you’re required to give me kisses before you leave. I don’t make the rules.”

“You cannot be fucking serious Jackman.”

“I don’t like watching movies, but only if it’s with you.” ; second version

“I’m tired of missing you.”

“You’re my favorite person.”

“Jack… are you scared?”

“Let me help you with your hair.”

“Come slow dance with me.”

“Can I get my nails done with you…? You won’t even know I’m there.”

“I want to fuck you so back right now”

“I know you’re mad at me but I can’t sleep without you. Please come back to bed.”

“I can’t believe you snore that loud.”

“Come slow dance with me.”

“Let me help you with your hair.”

“This outfit makes me look so fat.”

“I’m sorry baby, please forgive me. It’s killing me to see you cry.”

“I thought you were done with her.”

“We can get caught right now and you still want me to fuck you?”

“And I thought last time was bad. But it’s nothing compared to this.”

“I think we should go on a break.”

“Why are you so shy?”

“Come here and snuggle with me baby.”

“I was dumb enough to fall for you”

“Your friends don’t even like me so there’s no point for me to go”

“My pretty girl has the prettiest pussy huh?”

“You’re such a slut, letting me fuck you while everyone is watching” ; “I love fucking your tight little pussy in front of all my friends”

“Can I suck your nipples right now baby? No one will see or care.”

“My baby has the creamiest pussy ever”

“I want to watch you use the vibrator front of me”

“Once I’m in, I’m not stopping.”

“You got one more time to get an attitude with me before I fuck it out of you.”

𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

Knismolagnia - Who knew you were that ticklish?

Lemonade - From the series “Heaux Tales” by @heavyhitterheaux

𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨

Seven Devils: (I) | (II) - “See, I was dead when I woke up this morning. I'll be dead before the day is done.”

Meet the Harlow’s: It’s a Family Affair

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow masterlist

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bibbykins · 1 year

Text

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning.

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these.

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it.

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad.

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth.

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?”

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long.

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?”

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.”

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up.

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle.

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would.

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered.

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin.

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes.

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes.

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening.

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed.

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him.

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known.

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father.

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself.

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency.

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill.

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you.

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that.

You didn't scream, yell, or cry.

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact.

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings.

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event.

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!”

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle.

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-”

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship.

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment, “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop.

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.”

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it.

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet.

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched.

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving. The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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heavyhitterheaux · 5 months

Text

Lemonade

Noelle's Tale as told by @sinsandsuccubus

Heaux Tales of Jack Harlow

He was different than any boy I had met.

Scratch that, any man I had met.

He was charming, funny, handsome, and overall just a good person, despite what his namesake made him out to be.

He was Jack Harlow.

The meeting between the two of us hadn’t been that complicated, though the last place anyone would expect him to be.

I was a consultant at a Biotech Company, a company Jack had taken interest in and decided to pick up shares. Of course, like the smart man he is, he requested a tour of the main facility, where I just so happened to work at.

“…And Mr. Harlow, here we have our offices. They aren’t like cubicles, we don’t believe in such a small confined space. Creativity needs freedom, and that freedom is restricted by looking at two gray colored walls, and your neighbor who’s talking about what they want for lunch- Ah! Noelle! What a perfect time for you to be around.” I heard my boss chattering with some people, and my attention drawing up from the papers on my desk to the small crowd that stood at the door.

“May we come in?”

“Oh course Mr. Freeman.” I stood up from the desk, the pantsuit that I decided to wear hugging my figure perfectly. My hair looked amazing, and the natural make up look that I went with made me look like I hadn’t worn any at all.

Jack was mesmerized and I could tell.

I was too, but I obviously had other objectives. Like my job.

“How could I be of help?”

“This is Mr. Harlow-“

“Jack. You can call me Jack.” He spoke, holding out his hand for a shake, to which I accepted. Except it wasn’t a hand shake, but rather a kiss to my knuckles. I felt warmth flutter amongst my cheeks as I looked at the floor, a small smile etching across my face.

“Uh, Yes. Jack. Well, Mr. Jack here wants to invest in our company, and I thought you’d be the perfect person to explain our mission statement and goals.” my boss spoke, giving me a small wink.

Gosh, sometimes I couldn’t stand that man.

“That would be wonderful Mr. Freeman, however, I’m getting ready for lunch. By any chance, could we-“

“I’ll take you out to lunch. My treat. I-If you give me a good tour.” The curly headed man spoke, a smirk dabbling on his lips. I looked towards my boss, who shook his head in approval, and I suddenly becoming aware of the audience I had.

“And what about your friend?” I spoke, looking at the man behind him.

“Ah, my apologies young man. I forgot your introduction. Y/N, this is Urban. Mr. H-, I mean Jack’s best friend.”

“And cameraman.” Urban spoke, making a fake camera with his hands and pretending to snap a photo. I nodded my head with a smile, turning my attention back towards Jack.

“He can handle his own, right Urb?”

“Yeah. Mr. Bossman here said you guys had an art gallery nearby, I wanna check it out.” Urban patted Jack on his shoulder, dapping him up before exiting the room.

“Well. I’ll leave you two to it. When you’re done Noelle, feel free to take the rest of the day off.” Then my boss spoke again, winking at me once more.

“Well, are you ready for the tour?” I spoke, eyeing the tall, curly headed man up and down.

“Of course.”

He had swept me off my feet. Took me on romantic dates, showed me the world, bought me whatever I wanted, despite telling him that I didn’t need all that he was getting me.

“Jackman Thomas, how many times do I have to tell you, I don’t need all this stuff!” I spoke over the phone, picking up the packages that remained outside my condo, placing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I slid the boxes inside and took the flowers from the delivery man.

“Come on ma, let me spoil you.”

“Jack, I can spoil myself.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to either.”

I sighed dramatically over the phone, propping it up on the vase that I had set on the counter, FaceTiming Jack. He immediately picked up, smiling as he looked at me over the phone.

“You look gorgeous ma.”

“Thank you.” I spoke softly, heat flooding my cheeks.

“Open the boxes. I want to see your reaction.” Jack spoke, sitting up in the bed he was lying in. He was doing a couple of shows in other states that interfered with my work days, as much as I wanted to go with him. He always made a promise to take me whenever he could, just to let him know when I was free.

I took my pocket knife from the back pocket of my denim jeans, a playboy bunny popping up out the top.

“Nice knife. You keep it on you all the time?”

“Yeah, gotta be careful out here in these streets.” I laughed, cutting open one of the boxes.

Inside nestled a brand new Telfar Bag, a card laying right on top.

“Read the cards later, I want you to open them all first.”

“Okay pushy.” I spoke, moving on to the next box, which was significantly smaller than the Telfar box.

Pulling away the tissue paper, I pulled out a beautiful James Avery Bracelet, custom made with charms that represented me and Jack’s relationship.

A DNA charm to symbolize where the two of us met. A coffee cup to resemble our first date in context - I didn’t know Jack was into caramel macchiatos, but I learned that day. The rest of the charms were places he took me on vacation - Paris, Peru, Italy, Germany, and so many more.

My eyes welled with tears as I looked at them all, Jack’s smile appearing on the camera as I lifted my head up.

“Aww, mamas, don’t cry.”

“How can you tell me not to cry when you got me all these things?”

“That’s not the best gift baby, look in the last box.”

And I did, pulling out the red velvet box with anticipation. My heart began to pound, different possibilities and scenarios swimming in my head. Me and Jack had been together for a little over a year, a year and three months to be exact, but I was sure he wasn’t ready to propose.

Was he?

It definitely wouldn’t be exactly “romantic” over the phone, yet with Jack I never knew, he was a busy man.

“Its not what you think.”

Well that took a lot off your chest.

Letting go of the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I opened the box, which held a beautiful ring, stones glistening in the light of my kitchen.

“Jack-”

“It’s a promise ring beautiful. My promise to you. That I am yours, and will be for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like a proposal speech to me.”

“Well its not. Besides, I would have gotten you a bigger ring. But I know you’re a simple girl, so I hope that one will do until I get you the real thing.”

“Thank you Jack.” I smiled through the tears, tilting my head back to catch them.

“Anything for you mamas. I promise you.”

Well that was a fucking lie.

Within the next coming weeks, Jack had been busy out the ass. Interview after interview, appearance after appearance. Which I had no problem with, considering my job. I had been traveling too, attending different conferences with my company, taking in the many views of the world.

Me and Jack had made a promise to send each other gifts from the places we had both traveled. So it wasn’t anything out of the normal to receive packages when I got back.

This time though, the package was different.

It was a woman standing on my front porch, shades covering her eyes, a binder tucked between her arms.

“Ms. Noelle?”

“Who’s asking?” I raised an eyebrow, keeping in mind the tips and tricks my mom taught me at a young age, alongside the crime shows I watched.

“No need to be alarmed,” She took off her shades, opening the binder to display what I thought I’d never see. Jack and other women. And from the looks of it, and the countless tabs on the side of the binder, there were more than one.

“My name is Brie. And I’m here to exploit Jack Harlow and his whore tendencies.”

“This whole time I thought I was special.” I spoke, shaking myhead, rage encasing my fists. Tears ran down my face; bless Rihanna for Fenty, because the make up was not flawed.

“It’s okay babes, I know this is a lot. But we don’t need to be shedding any tears over his bitch ass.”

“Oh, I’m not crying him. I’m crying over the rage I’m feeling. And the fact that he’s out of reach, so I can’t fuck up him over this shit. There’s so many women! And he has a wife, and kids! Children! They’re going to eventually know that their daddy is a fucking whore. And their poor mother, that’s going to break her!”

“I know, I know.”

“This is so fucked. I wanna fuck him up so bad.”

“And we will. I already submitted the photos to TMZ.”

“Have you heard anything back?” I spoke, leaning back on the couch, looking over at the woman, who I could now consider a friend.

“Nothing. And I submitted them a little over three weeks ago. I don’t know understand what’s taking so long, this is Jack Harlow we’re talking about.”

“Sometimes it ends up in the wrong place. It may have ended up on an intern’s desk who trashed it for the sake of being a “fan”. You never know. But I say we go big or go home.”

“And how do we do that?” Brie asked, confusion on her face.

“Well, there’s more out there, there has to be. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll keep up with Jack and send you every piece of information I can find, that way we can come all together and expose this man for who he is.”

“That’s brilliant!” Brie spoke, placing her hands on my shoulders, smiling at me.

“Then it’s a plan. It’s time to expose this man for the womanizer he is.”

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