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idabbleincrazy · 7 months

Text

Never a Wish Better Than This (7/7)

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E

Pairing: Clex

Characters: Clark, Lex, surprise guest appearance

Word Count: 9346 (8265 without the lyrics)

Warnings: angst, schmoop, fluff, smut, oral, anal fingering, anal, intensely emotional smut, soulmate-ish stuff, So Much Kissing, bottom!Lex, top!Clark, subby!Lex, songfic (kinda)

Summary: Clark surprises Lex. Lex surprises himself.

A/N: and that's one more chapter fic finally finished! Now onto the daunting task of rewriting as much of the rest of the show as possible.

Lex's POV:

Okay, ow. Gee, Lex, yes, let's allow the computer-generated likeness of your boyfriend's biological father to use alien technology to zap a fuckton of Kryptonian (holy shit, that's quick absorption) knowledge into your brain, sounds like a genius idea.

As the torrent of information dies down, I become aware of Clark's warmth pressing against my back, solid and grounding, his arms wrapped around my waist. When did I fall to my knees?

"Lex?"

"I'm fine, Clark." Fuck, wish my voice sounded more steady. I turn my head to look at him, the newly gained knowledge of just how spectacular Clark really is, even more than I'd already figured, making my head spin with the scientific possibilities. Have to clamp down on all that, though. Mustn't treat the love of your life like a lab rat, Lex. I push aside the thoughts of experiments and underground laboratories, and press my hand to the side of his face. "You really are amazing, Clark."

There's that blush I love so much.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Other than the start of what's promising to be a fuckingly awful headache? Yes, I'm alright."

"Yeah, I think the only time I've ever had a real, lasting, migraine was when the A.I. did the same thing to me."

I frown at him as he stands up, pulling me up with him.

"So, it's not just Kryptonite that can affect you physically?"

"You know about that now, huh?"

I nod, thinking. Knowledge is power, and now I don't know if I trust myself to keep from letting this much power corrupt me.

"Look, Clark, maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. I mean, sure, it gives a lot of clarity to the things that have happened these last four years; your little walk on the wild side and all that, but…Clark, what if I'm more like my father than I thought? What if I'm worse? I don't want to hurt you, Clark, but what if I really am the villain of the story?"

My heart clenches at the look he gives me just before he envelopes me in his strong embrace. His mouth is just centimeters from my ear as he shushes me.

"You won't, Lex. I won't let you." He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek before pulling back, his bright, green gaze locking onto mine, full of promises. "Sure, you could hurt me now, physically. But you always had the ability to hurt me emotionally, and you've never done anything that couldn't be forgiven. We've hurt each other, Lex, without even meaning to, with our secrets and lies, and going behind each other's backs. We're still here, together. Because, ultimately, neither of us has given in to what's expected of us."

God, I don't deserve him, this incredible, beautiful being who somehow believes in me, despite everything. Staring back at him, I feel the bond now, like a pulsing thread stretching between us. During the transfer, I saw the other threads to his potential lovers, coiling out around Smallville, and beyond. Lana, of course, and Chloe. I wasn't surprised to learn of Kyla and Alicia, their threads now severed, laying dark and still. I was, however, surprised by Pete and Lois both having a connection, though Pete's appeared very weak and frayed, whether by physical distance or emotional, I was unsure. Chloe's thread gave off less of a thrum than Lois and Lana's, less like a lover, rather, more like a true confidante, and it made me wonder how much she knew about Clark. Lana's thread, though slightly frayed, still fought to maintain its connection, and Lois' seemed somewhat muted, like there was a resistance being enacted upon it from one side or the other.

It worried me a little, that these connections still stood. Yes, Clark chose me, and I, him, but any one of these other potentials would be so much safer.

I'm a Luthor, dammit. Luthors don't second-guess themselves. Luthors have conviction. We make a decision and stand by it, to the end. You love Clark, and would do anything for him.

But what does a Luthor know of love? Luthors hurt and betray, pretend affection to get what they want from people, use them to further their own end. I've fucked endless numbers of people, but I've never cared about them, about their wants and needs and feelings.

Ah, but you did once, didn't you? That first time. You loved him, and would've done anything for him, too.

And that worked out so well, didn't it? Those blue, too blue, eyes flash through my memory with a sting of betrayal. He hurt me, deeply, what's to stop Clark from doing the same thing?

You don't really believe that, do you? Do you really think him capable of inflicting such pain?

No. I don't. And that's what matters, isn't it? I snap myself out of my inner contemplation and pull Clark into a deep, searching kiss. I find my strength, my conviction, in that kiss, his tongue twining with mine, his hands flexing, oh, so carefully, at my waist. Breathless, I break the kiss, pressing my forehead to his, just holding on to him.

"I don't deserve you, Clark Kent."

"Hey, don't talk like that. You deserve love, and I will make you see that. Where'd you go just now?"

"Nowhere, Clark." I disentangle myself from his arms, looking around at the cavern. The hewn-rock table with the element I'd found in Egypt set in the center beckons me, another secret, another temptation. I know enough now to know it wasn't actually Clark who betrayed me with that theft, that Jor-El had been steering him. It can wait. "I know there's still a lot about this place to discuss and explore, but, Clark, can we just go? That transfer, it's taken a lot outta me."

"Oh. Sure. You're okay, though? This was a pretty big step."

"I assure you, I'm alright. I just need time for everything to sort itself out in there." Letting him lead the way back through the passageways, I toss him the key to the Porsche. "You drive back, though, okay?"

"Really?! You're gonna let me drive one of your babies?"

"I trust you, Clark. More than I've ever trusted anyone."

Clark's face crinkles in a grimace at my harken back to the day he came to borrow the red Ferrari.

"I wasn't exactly myself that day, you get that, right?"

I nod in understanding, all too aware of the truth behind that incident.

"Red Kryptonite makes you a little uninhibited, doesn't it?"

"Something like that."

"Hey, it's not like I've never done drugs. I get it, and it's okay, Clark." I watch as Clark closes the hidden cavern back up without so much as a goodbye to his father's…memory? I'm definitely going to have to look into that further; I don't fully trust that the A.I. has Clark's best interest in mind in its actions. "Come on, Clark, let's get back to the farm. The sooner we get there, the more time we'll have alone in your little loft."

Clark flashes a smirk to mirror mine and we walk out into the midday sun, leaving me blinking against it as my eyes adjust. I look over at him as we head back to the car, wonder sinking in at the realization that it's our yellow sun that strengthens him, gives him his amazing abilities. Weird to think that on his planet, he would be just, average. Clark Kent and average should never belong in the same sentence.

Clark's POV:

Jeez. I knew Lex was going to take a bit of work, but I don't think I was expecting it to be this bad. He just doesn't see himself the way I do. He sees the man everyone else thinks he is, a carbon-copy of his dad. He's always so confident and sophisticated on the outside that I've forgotten about those glimpses I've seen of the insecure, yet hopeful, young man he is underneath the Luthor-scion façade. I haven't forgotten about the incident with the black Kryptonite, I haven't forgotten about how truly dark and twisted Lex has the capability to become, but I also remember how good his other side was. I remember how he tried to save me from himself, how he was willing to die along with the other Lex, just to keep me from harm. There is the capacity for terrible evil within him, as there is in most of us, but like most people, there is also the capacity for great kindness. I've seen how caring he can be.

I saw it when he fought against his father and worked out a way to lower operation costs rather than laying off a couple hundred people who were dependent on their jobs at the plant. I saw it when he did everything in his considerable power to try to save Ryan. I saw it when he paid off my parents' mortgage to keep us from losing the farm, even though he'd barely been back from his honeymoon from hell for barely a day, and the only thing he'd asked in return was to be treated, not like a Luthor, but like a Kent. I saw it when he took responsibility for his company's R&D mishap, giving himself up as guinea pig for an antidote that could have killed him. He's done so much for this town, with so little thanks in return. I know who Lex Luthor really is, I just have to make him see it, too.

I know he still has things he hasn't told me, but I'm not going to push. He'll tell me in his own time, or he won't, but I trust him to not do anything that would end up hurting me or the people I care about. I have to believe in that. Having faith in someone isn't about making that choice after knowing all the facts, it's about making a conscious decision to trust them even when you're in the dark. He loves me, and that's something Lex Luthor doesn't do easily, or halfway. And that knowledge is enough for now.

As I pull up the drive to the barn, I realize we still haven't gotten around to discussing the us part of our relationship. With the revelation of my apparent ability to forge a more-than-figurative bond, that kinda took a backseat. I'm not completely sure what this connection between us entails, but it's going to take another trip to the cave and a lengthy conversation with Jor-El to figure it out, so I put a pin in it for now. I still have my surprise waiting inside, and I think Lex needs it now more than ever. Grand gestures go a long way with him, after all.

I shift into park and kill the ignition before looking over at Lex, who has been unnaturally silent on the trip back. I don't think he even sees what he's looking at beyond the passenger window. I know it was a lot of information to take in all at once like that, probably even more so for a human brain, but I don't think his thoughts are really on my Kryptonian heritage. Well, self-reflection can come later; I put a lot of work into getting this just right and I'm not going to let Lex's doubts about himself rain on my parade. I take his hand in mine, feeling him startle slightly as I drag him from his introspection, and there's an almost deer-in-the-headlights look on his face when he turns to look at me.

"Hey, it'll all work out, Lex, trust me. I believe in us."

"I do trust you, Clark. After that, how can I not? It's…it's me I'm not so sure about."

I don't know whether to shake him until he sees sense or fold him into my embrace like a swaddled infant in need of comfort, so I settle for somewhere in-between, pulling him halfway across the center console and crushing my mouth to his. I pour as much meaning into the kiss as I can, hoping he feels the love and trust I have for him. With a gentle, if somewhat annoyed, nip to his bottom lip, I push him back into his seat, slightly smug at his gasping pants for breath. I hadn't even used tongue.

"You're a good man, Lex Luthor. Anyone who actually bothers to get to know you can see that. And, I don't care how long it takes, I will make you see it, too." Unbuckling my seatbelt, I toss him the keys and start to step out of the car, trusting him to follow me instinctively. "But, not today. Today, I have something a lot better planned than trying to convince one of the most stubborn people in the world of their real worth."

He frowns at the dig, but falls into step beside me as we walk through the barn door. At the foot of the stairs, I stop him, pulling him against me, back to chest.

"Trust me?"

He cranes his head back around to give me a put-upon look.

"Clark…"

"Indulge me."

Huffy sigh and an eye roll, as expected.

"I trust you, Clark."

"Good."

I press a quick kiss to his cheek and cover his eyes with one hand, the other dropping to his waist to keep him close. I guide him up the stairs without a stumble and lead him to the center of the loft.

"Clark, what's with the subterfuge? Come on, let me see, already."

There's a lightness to his voice that wasn't there when we left the car. Good. No Debbie Downers allowed. I remove my hand from over his eyes and step back, releasing my hold on him.

He turns slowly, taking in the sight of the rearranged and redecorated loft, a confused, wide-eyed wonder growing on his face.

The Look to the Stars banner I managed to find stashed away in the school's supply closet is stretched across one wall. Glittery streamers and twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, their effect slightly muted by the sunlight streaming in through the window, but still glinting and casting shadows around us. The furniture is all pushed back against the back wall, leaving the majority of the floor bare. I couldn't risk using mom's punch bowl that she uses during the holidays, but there were a few snacks and drinks set up on the coffee table.

"Clark, what - what is all this?"

"Kinda thought it wasn't completely fair that the man who paid for the band didn't get to see them play, y'know?" I speed over to the table and back before he can really register that I even moved, a small remote in my hand. "Prom was great, Dawn's ghostly antics aside, I got to dance with Lana, and it was just like I had spent years dreaming it would be. But, something was missing."

I press a button on the remote, and music rings out from the speakers hidden away in the shadowy corners of the ceiling. Pocketing the remote, I reach out a hand to Lex.

"Can I have this dance?"

Wordlessly, he places his hand in mine, letting me take the lead as I pull him in close. His hands wrap around my shoulders and mine around his waist, and we begin a simple sway to the music, his face tilted up towards mine, eyes bright in the light reflecting around us.

What day is it

And in what month?

This clock never seemed so alive

I can't keep up, and I can't back down

I've been losing so much time

I've only known Lex for less than five years, but I feel as though I've known him all my life. Like my life didn't really start until I met him. I spent the last four years and eight months unsure of myself, and unable to admit who I really am. The last twenty-four hours have been the best, most freeing, hours of my life, and I mourn all the hours between that moment on the river bank and now. I just need to make him understand. He's not the only one struggling here, not the only one who's vulnerable.

"You've done so much for other people, Lex, without even being asked, without even caring about the recognition. I mean, who even pays what was probably an ungodly amount of money to fly a real, popular, band out to the middle of nowhere for a high school dance, unbidden? I wouldn't have even known that you organized it if Chloe hadn't told me."

'Cause it's you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to lose

And it's you and me

And all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you

"I did it for you, you know. I wanted your high school experience to be complete." He's still staring at me, wide-eyed and marveling. His voice is soft, almost below my range of hearing, like he doesn't know if he wants me to hear it. "I skipped my prom. I couldn't very well show up with the one person I really wanted to, and none of the girls from our sister school seemed an acceptable replacement. I'm not very fond of what I remember of that night. This…this is better."

"It's better for me, too. 'Cause it's you."

What are the things that I want to say

Just aren't coming out right?

I'm tripping on words

You got my head spinning

I don't know where to go from here

"Clark," his voice so raw, trembling, and I've never heard it that way, not even last night, when we were stripped bare in every way. "I'm…I'm not good at this. At relationships, at love. And I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone, or anything in this fucking world. But I - Clark, I don't know how - how to do this, how to love you and not hurt you and not be afraid of being hurt."

'Cause it's you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to prove

And it's you and me

And all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you

God, I love this man in my arms. I want to show him what I see, but I don't know how to put it any plainer than I already have. I hate the world that has made him so jaded and scared so young. We've stopped moving, just staring at each other as the song continues on, neither of us blinking for long stretches of time.

"You do, Lex. I've seen it. When you're not trying to be the man your father spent years trying to mold you into. When you're completely yourself, you're one of the best people I know."

There's something about you now

That I can't quite figure out

Everything she does is beautiful

Everything she does is right

"Just…help me? If-if I fuck up, if I slip into that man I don't want to be?"

'Cause it's you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to lose

And it's you and me and all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to prove

And it's you and me and all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you

"Always, Lex. We balance each other. That's what people who are meant to be together do."

What day is it?

And in what month?

This clock never seemed so alive

The song ends, and I release him, reaching for the remote and stopping the music before the next song begins, needing the silence. Until this moment, I hadn't decided on whether to give him this next part of the surprise or to wait until we were more settled. I know now, there will be no moment better than this. Forcing myself not to speed, I cross back over to the makeshift refreshment table and pick up the metal box I had hidden behind a bag of chips. Lana had wondered why I asked for it back after all this time, but she accepted my bumbling explanation with the same grace she always does, even through the glint of sadness that flashed behind her eyes when she handed over the lead box made from St. George's armor. I think she sensed the finality of the dance between us as she placed it into my waiting hand. If she ever sees the box in Lex's possession, I don't think it would take her long to put two and two together.

Fingering the blunt spikes lined along the sides nervously, I start the music again, leaving the remote on the table, and cross back to where Lex is still standing, waiting, his eyes flitting down to the box and back up to mine in confusion.

Lex's POV:

How many times can a person be overwhelmed with emotion in such a short span of time? I had expected Clark to lead me up here for some simple, distracting, fooling around before running the risk of being caught by either elder Kent or the ever-nosy Ms. Lane. Not this. No one's ever done anything like this for me.

I'm confused by the St. George box in his hands, and the opening strains of guitar coming from the speakers makes my heart clench slightly in trepidation. Whatever's inside is obviously important, like every moment of the last twenty-four hours has been.

Desperate for changing, starving for truth

I'm closer to where I started, I'm chasing after you

The funny thing is, I'd never even heard of Lifehouse until I started searching for the perfect band to play at Clark's prom. Chloe had given me a burned cd of the most popular alt rock and pop songs of the last four years, and the second I'd heard You and Me, I knew they were it. My decision had been cemented after I did a bit of research and came across a few more of their singles that seemed like someone had gained insider information on just how deeply my feelings for Clark ran. I'd listened to them so many times, their words were imprinted at the back of my brain. Wonder how much it would cost to keep them on retainer.

"I thought you gave that to Lana?"

"I did. I thought it was time it was returned to its rightful owner, along with something else I once mistook as being meant for her."

Clark handed me the box, and I opened it warily, wondering if it was perhaps some kind of test involving Kryptonite. Instead of a green, glowing meteorite, within the lead box, lay a thick-banded silver bracelet with a diamond-shaped, blue-hued opal delicately placed within the circular cutout in its center.

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

"This…Clark, isn't this the bracelet from the cave drawing? The one with the girl?"

Clark stepped closer and carefully, almost reverently, plucked the bracelet from the box, letting the gem catch the light and throw it back across the room, dazzling me even further.

"According to the Kawatche legend, this is meant to be given by Naman to the one he's destined to be with." He hesitates, his fingers tracing around the pattern pressed into the edges of the silver. "Over the two years I've had this, I almost gave this to three other people; Kyla, Lana, and Alicia, but something held me back. I'll always miss Kyla and Alicia, always regret that we didn't get to follow things to a natural conclusion, but I don't think either of those relationships would have ended any differently than it did with Lana, even with them knowing about my abilities. You don't have to wear it, obviously, but if I am Naman, then, Segeeth or not, this belongs to you."

Forgetting all I'm lacking, completely incomplete

I'll take your invitation, you take all of me now

I take the proffered bracelet from him, my fingers lingering as they brush over his. Setting the box down on the floor, I pointedly clamp the bracelet around my wrist, the open ends just lightly touching to mold almost perfectly to the shape of my wrist. I can see the emotions swimming in his eyes, a surge of unexpected confidence washing through me. Clark loves me, trusts me despite everything.

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

I'm living for the only thing I know

I'm running and not quite sure where to go

And I don't know what I'm diving into

Just hanging by a moment here with you

"I'd be honored to wear it whenever I can, Clark." I wish my voice didn't sound so raw in my own ears. "Sometimes, it's better not to fight destiny."

There's nothing else to lose, there's nothing else to find

There's nothing in the world that can change my mind

There is nothing else

The smile he flashes is stunningly bright, a shaky laugh falling from his lips, and I can't help but pull him to me.

Desperate for changing, starving for truth

I'm closer to where I started, I'm chasing after you

I feel his arms slip back around me as I capture his mouth, sealing all the promises we've made each other today, both spoken and silent. My lips part under his as he takes control of the kiss, my eyes falling shut.

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

I'm living for the only thing I know

I'm running and not quite sure where to go

And I don't know what I'm diving into

Just hanging by a moment here with you

At the first touch of his tongue against mine, I moan, my nascent arousal surging startlingly back into overdrive. As he clutches me close, I can feel the evidence of his own desire pressing against my hip and I can't help but buck up into the girth of him. I want him now. In me. Even more than I did last night. I feel like I've woken up on that river bank all over again, a rush of renewed life flowing through me, the lips of an angel, my angel, breathing his essence into my lungs to lead to redemption.

Just hanging by a moment

Hanging by a moment here with you

Hanging by a moment

Hanging by a moment here with you

As the song trails down to an end, I break the kiss, feeling slightly off-kilter.

"Uh, Clark, we're floating again."

I can't help but laugh at his sheepish look. At least nothing caught fire. The next song starts as we touch back down upon the wooden slats of the loft, and I sober quickly.

A strangled smile fell from your face

What kills me that I hurt you this way

The worst part is that I didn't even know

Now there's a million reasons for you to go

But if you can find a reason to stay

"Is there still time before anyone comes back, Clark?"

He casts a quick look out the window, and I can see the laser-focus in his eyes as he scans the distance.

"Plenty. Dad's busy enough for the next couple hours, at least, and mom's just now going on break with Lois at the Talon." He crushes his lips back to mine, and he seems to be just as hungry for it as I am, a big hand sliding around my head to keep me from pulling away too quickly. I gasp into his mouth at the feel of his thumb caressing over the bump at the base of my skull, the gentle touch an unexpected shock to my system. "What do you want, Lex? Hmm? Want me to suck you off properly this time, baby? Wanna fuck me? God, I just, I love you so much, Lex. So beautiful, inside and out. Want to make you see that. Anything, baby, just tell me."

"I want you in me again, Clark. Need it." I'm moaning in-between kisses, grinding up into the hand that slides teasingly over my crotch. Turning my face into the curve of his shoulder, I let the fear seep out. "Fuck, please, baby, show me. Show me how much you love me. Show me what I'm fighting against the Luthor name for. God, Clark, I don't know how to be that man you see, but I want to. I want to be worthy of you."

"Dammit, Lex, you already are. Just by being here, by trying even though you're afraid."

I'll do whatever it takes

To turn this around

I know what's at stake

I know that I've let you down

In a whirl of air, Clark is gone, leaving me feeling bereft. The tortuous emotion is fleeting, as he is back in front of me, taking my hand again and leading me over to a shadowed corner of the loft where there's an impromptu set-up of blankets and pillows.

I expected another mad rush to nudity, but he simply dips his head to brush his lips against my own as his fingers untangle from mine, sliding up my arms and across my shoulders, down my chest to the hem of my shirt. Thumbs caress briefly over my abdomen before he slowly tugs the shirt up, my arms raising without thought for him to pull the slightly sweat-dampened cotton over my head.

I've never been undressed by a lover like this. So reverently, like unveiling my pale, nearly hairless, skin was something to be savored rather than a means to an end. Clark's kissing me again, a slow, sweeping exploration of my mouth that exudes such a quiet desperation that I can't even try to fight against it, merely allow it.

When he finally relinquishes my mouth, I tug his shirt off, eyes roaming over golden skin that should never have to be covered by a single stitch. My hands join in, running slowly over dips and planes, my head starting to follow their path until Clark stops me with his forefinger under my chin, nudging me back up.

And if you give me a chance

Believe that I can change

I'll keep us together

Whatever it takes

A whisper of a kiss to my lips before that sweet, sinful mouth of his starts a trail along my jaw, down my throat, feather-light, his hands sliding up my sides and over my chest. His lips work their way across one shoulder, tongue sliding slowly over the freckles I know are there. I swallow hard, trying to will away the tremble I feel running through me, my hands clenching lightly on his hips as he travels along my collarbone to the other shoulder, teeth clamping, oh so gently, over the skin stretched tight across bone.

I watch the top of his head as he continues his downward path, kissing and licking, tasting, every bit of me he comes in contact with, thumbs sliding up to scrape over my nipples, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my aching cock.

A broken moan escapes me, and Clark's dips briefly into my navel, swirling erotically around the indent before kneeling on the hard wooden floor. His eyes raise back to mine, deep pools of onyx within thin rings of emerald, and I want to capture that look in stone, in something I can wear, always, and remember this moment. This instant, with his head upturned to watch me watching him, his hands slipping down to the waist of my jeans, fingers easing the button through its hole, sliding the zipper down so excruciatingly slowly that I swear I hear each tooth parting.

She said if we're gonna make this work

You gotta let me inside even though it hurts

Don't hide the broken parts that I need to see

Fly open, he groans softly as he discovers I've gone commando, pressing his face into the sparse russet curls and inhaling deeply, the movement visible in the muscles of his bare back. So close to freedom from its denim confines and Clark's mouth, I feel a spurt of pre-cum ooze from my cock, so much like Pavlov's dog drooling at the sound of the bell. Addicted to him already. Hands slide down my legs, and I curve forward slightly, my hands now on his shoulders to stabilize myself as he lifts first one foot, then the other, removing shoes and socks before pulling my jeans down, helping me step out of them.

Face back on mine as his hands wrap around my hips and he leans forward, engulfing me in the heat of his mouth. Swallows me down in one slick slide of lips and tongue, until I'm pressing at the back of his throat. It takes everything in my vast well of willpower not to tear my gaze away from his, let my head fall back on my shoulders, as he shifts me back and forth, guiding my hips into a steady, if too slow, pace. Christ, too much and not enough, and this is not the way it's supposed to be, so sweet and gentle and not at all the overwhelming and almost brutal taking of last night.

Not supposed to go this way. Never has. No one has ever been so gentle, so passionate, so caring, not with me. Not even…no. Blink away the memory of blue eyes and swim in the green staring up at me. I don't deserve this, this barrier-breaking affection and selfless attention as he lets me take over, thrusting down his throat, his jaw going slack to take me so completely, lips brushing against the sensitive skin at the base of my cock with every push in. I'm a Luthor, and this is not what Luthors are given, never willingly, not with such blind trust and complete faith, never when it isn't a well-masked lie paid for exorbitantly.

A sound like a sob slips past my lips before I can choke it back, sight momentarily blurry until I can blink away the salt sting. Clark's face changes minutely, just enough to show it didn't escape his scrutiny. His hands tighten on my hips just enough to halt me mid-thrust. One last, slow, backward pull along the shaft of my throbbing cock before he releases it from its newly found haven.

She said like it or not it's the way it's gotta be

You've gotta love yourself if you can ever love me

His mouth shapes into those two lines of verse, and a shudder wracks through me, and my eyes fall shut, trying to block out the world, him.

"I…I don't know if I can." I wrench my eyes open again, hand sliding up into Clark's hair, tugging forcefully, enough that it would hurt anyone else to resist. He gets the demand behind the action, allows me to pull him up to standing, to guide his mouth to mine in a kiss that rattles me more than it does him. Tongues overlapping, sweeping into each other's mouths, his hands still tight on my hips, and I moan desperately against his lips as my cock drags over the rough denim of his jeans. "Teach me, Clark, show me how. Make me trust myself the way you trust me, the way I trust you."

I'll do whatever it takes

To turn this around

I know what's at stake

I know that I've let you down

And if you give me a chance

And give me a break

I'll keep us together

Without breaking the kiss completely, Clark manages to maneuver us down onto the pile of bedding, the remainder of his clothing lost in the transition from standing to stretched out above me. No thought involved as legs spread wide to accommodate the span of his waist between them as he settles, the brush of his cock against mine making me pulse again, slicking the slide as he rocks into me.

My hands fall away from him to stretch above my head in surrender, (when had I even given in so completely?), as he pulls back slightly, his face more serious and open than I remember ever seeing it. A bottle of lube from fuck knows where, wetting fingers that disappear between us as I keep my gaze on him. Gasp out a breath when his hand grazes my aching cock for the briefest moment before continuing its way further down, my legs spreading wider, hips canting up, as slippery fingers slide over that sensitive bit of skin behind my balls and down, between, there. Flicker of heat in Clark's eyes as the pad of a finger finds that furled ring of muscle, only the merest circling needed before it relaxes, welcoming the intrusion.

Years of sex without bottoming, without another man's fingers inside me, and after just one time with him, already it feels so natural, opening to him, giving him this part of me. And so different than last night, my urgent, raw need for more and more, replaced with a connoisseur's appreciation of his quickly learned skill. Savoring the way he eases his forefinger into me, his free hand at my hip, pinning me to the floor, the disallowment of movement allowing me to just lay there, just let myself really feel it, the way I never have before. It's…transcendent. His eyes, boring into mine, willing me to understand, to see myself the way he does.

I'd let the knowledge of the literal bond between us fade into the background once we'd arrived at the barn, distracted by all of - this. I feel it again, now, a thrum running between us, and I can't help but gasp.

"Clark." God, my voice has never sounded so ragged in my own ears, my breath coming out in short, audible huffs, and I have a flash of fear that my asthma has suddenly returned under the strain of so much emotion after years of denial. "Oh, God, please."

Another finger slips into me, Clark's head dipping down to brush his lips over mine as the digits stroke and stretch. There's no burn to it, surprisingly, even though I know my accelerated healing would have undone nearly all of last night's work by now. Just the slightest pinch as muscle loosens, and then pleasure, pure and honest pleasure. I feel the steady drip of pre-cum slicking my stomach as he thrusts slowly, have to fight the urge to reach down and touch, knowing it probably would bring this all to an embarrassingly quick end. I've made sex last for hours before cumming even once, but with him, it's just. Right. There. He tests my stamina and will with every touch, every look.

I know you deserve much better

Remember the time I told you the way that I felt

And that I'd be lost without you and never find myself

Let's hold onto each other above everything else

Start over, start over

A few more strokes, and a third finger wiggles in, slightly snug, but still painless. I can tell he's deliberately avoiding my prostate, attempting to make this the least difficult for me that he can. I know there's wetness shining in the corners of my eyes, and know he notices it when his brow furrows minutely. Thankfully, he doesn't break the silence he's kept since he started stripping me bare.

Barely notice the addition of his pinky, and I swear, he could fist me right now, and it wouldn't be any more difficult than the slight tug of skin as it's stretched taut around the breadth of his knuckles. If this moment wasn't so enthralling, if his face weren't so intently solemn, I might have begged for it. As it is, I already feel so completely owned, a realization that should have alarmed someone so thoroughly un-ownable as me. He's claimed me, through and through; I will never find this myriad swirl of emotions in the attentions of anyone else, even if I searched across the entire universe. God, I want to be worthy of this man, and he believes I already am. Fuck. I'm going to have to make some enormous changes in LuthorCorp.

To turn this around

I'll do whatever it takes

I know what's at stake

I know that I've let you down

And if you give me a chance

Believe that I can change

I'll keep us together

Whatever it takes

One more deep, gentle stroke, and suddenly gone. Empty for the briefest second, barely enough to voice a mournfully breathy, pathetic, sound of disappointment, before the thick tip of his cock is breaching me. None of that hesitancy of night, no need for guidance, just the slow, steady slide of steel-hard flesh. Hand no longer pinning me in place, and my legs shift to brace against his sides as he stretches back out over me, hands wrapping firmly around my forearms, bracing us both. Feeling of fullness as he bottoms out, and a flare of light and heat from the band of silver clamped around my wrist.

Clark's POV:

Y'know, one of these days I'm going to have sex with Lex where he doesn't shed a single tear. It better be soon, or I'm gonna end up with some kind of complex. But, unlike last night's mystery tear, these don't seem borne of pain, more like a cleansing. Like he's finally just letting it all wash over him, soak in, and maybe it will scour away the doubt and fear he has of himself. I don't know how much clearer I can be on how I feel about him, about my trust in him to be his own Lex, not the carbon-copy Lionel tried so hard to shape him into. I don't have any more words, action is all that's left, and if the damp streaks down his cheeks are anything to go by, there's been at least some headway.

Find me here and speak to me

I want to feel you, I need to hear you

You are the light that's leading me

To the place where I find peace again

I'm not sure if he can even hear the music anymore, hard to tell what's making it past the intense focus he has trained on our lovemaking. I'll be sure to play this one again, repeatedly, just to make sure he gets the message.

The feel of him around me, under me, is even more incredible than before. More than just giving into our lust for each other, this is Lex, the most willful, independent person I know, seeking guidance, asking me for help, for strength. And how could I ever deny him?

You are the strength that keeps me walking

You are the hope that keeps me trusting

You are the life to my soul

You are my purpose, you're everything

Taking the flare of light from the bracelet as a good sign, since it doesn't seem to be hurting Lex, I ease my way back, feeling my cock drag through the clenching passage. Nearly out of him as my hands slide down his arms to link my fingers through his, bracing, claiming. Slow push back into the twitching hole that opens so willingly for me, makes it so easy to be careful.

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

Yeah

I feel a thrum run through me, spreading out from my chest, down and outward towards Lex, like the brief connection I felt in the caves when Jor-El was transferring information into his mind. I'll have to ask Lex some time if he senses it, too. Later. Much later. 'Cause, God, not sure if I can utter anything more coherent than his name between the groans I can't hold in.

Watery smile on his face now, small, but significant all the same, considering the startled look in his eyes. His legs lifting, wrapping around my thighs, heels digging into my ass, a wordless plea for more. And how can I deny him anything right now, with him all open and vulnerable and willing to let me be in control?

You calm the storms and you give me rest

You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall

You still my heart and you take my breath away

Would you take me in, take me deeper now?

I make a quick sweep over his lithe, pale body, unable not to notice the weeping, reddened cock twitching against his stomach, its contrast that much more obvious as he strains to stay still beneath me. I pull one hand free from his as I thrust slowly, deeply into him, my fingers trailing down his arm and over to his throat, thumb tracing along his jaw. Dipping my head to capture his mouth, my hand slides down to pluck briefly at his nipple, causing Lex to moan into my mouth, before gripping around his thigh, hiking the flexing limb higher up my back. The new position lets me slip deeper into him, and Lex wrenches away from the kiss, his head arching back with a jagged keen.

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

Rubbing my hand over his upper thigh like I'm soothing a startled horse, I thrust again, keeping aim on his prostate now that I've found it.

"Clark! Please…I - oh, God, don't - don't stop. Don't ever stop."

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

And this, this is what was missing last night. Pure, raw need, untempered by the haze of lust and four years worth of jerk-off fantasies. That was rutting, animalistic and dirty in all the best ways, but this. This is something more. Divine.

Lex's free hand clutches around my neck, fingers twining into my hair, his other clutching my hand tight, nails trying to dig into flesh. Pressed against him like this, I can feel his cock throb, feel the slick warmth as another spurt of pre-cum rushes out. He's sobbing softly, his head turning away into the pillows. I bury my face in the curve of his throat, inhaling the sweat-slick scent of him, and wish I could mark him visibly, worry that bit of flesh between my teeth and show the world that he is mine. This beautiful, fractured, amazing, human is mine.

You're everything, everything

'Cause you're all I want, you're all I need

You're all I want, you're all I need

You're everything, everything

You're all I want, you're all I need

You're everything, everything

You're all I want, you're all I need

Everything, everything

Tangled around each other, we fall into a rhythm, his body arching up into mine as I thrust into him. As slow as I've kept the pace, I can still feel my orgasm rushing towards me sooner than I thought possible. Lex flexes, his ass clenching around me, and I know it's a losing battle.

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

"I love you, Lex. So much. God, you're beautiful, baby, just…perfect. Look at me, Lex." I watch his eyes close for a moment, some internal war taking place, before he turns his face back to mine. Jesus, he's breathtaking like this, all his walls down, and it's like I can see straight into his soul, flawed and perfect at the same time. "No matter what happens, I'll never feel like this with anyone else. I chose you before I even knew there was a choice to make."

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better, any better than this?

Lex's hand slides around to cup my face, his eyes boring into mine. My thrusts stilled, my cock protesting the sudden lack of friction.

"I-I can't promise I'll never fail you, Clark, but I promise to never stop trying. Since the day of the meteor shower, my life has felt…disconnected, incomplete." Lex let out a soft laugh, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as I stared down at him. "That feeling disappeared the moment I woke up on the riverbank, and saw the eyes of an angel looking down at me."

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

He drew me into a deep, sensual kiss before I could respond. Not that I'm sure I would have been able to say anything more impressive than 'wow'. If there had been any lingering doubt that maybe there was someone out there better suited to me, that squashed it. Lex is only human, to expect him not to fail at some point, to never slip back into the darkness that had surrounded him for so long, would be naïve. But, even if he does take a wrong turn on his path, I know now that he'll let me help lead him back in the right direction. As he kissed me, he writhed against me, thrusting down on my cock, urging me back into action.

"God", he whispered against my lips, voice rough and so thoroughly erotic. "Need to cum, Clark. Make me cum, baby."

And that was it. The tenuous hold I had on my own arousal snapped. With a deep groan that almost sounded like a growl in my ears, I clutched Lex to me as I began a faster pace, my tongue thrusting into his mouth in a mirror of my cock. I could feel my climax racing closer, my balls pulling up tight, that electric tingle pooling at the base of my spine.

Orgasm looming, and wanting Lex right there with me, I slid my hand up from his leg to wrap around his cock, swallowing his moans as I started stroking the thick shaft. It doesn't take much, a few firm strokes, my thumb brushing over the head of his cock in time with each nudge of my own against his prostate, and he stiffens beneath me. Bottomed out within him, his cry of pleasure smothered within my mouth, I feel the surge of warmth rush over my hand and against our stomachs as he cums. His nails are scraping at my impenetrable skin, tugging at my hair, and his internal muscles are clamping down on me, tight enough to actually register beyond my invulnerability. All senses narrowed down to Lex, the scent of his cum, the taste of his tongue on mine, the sound and feel of him coming completely undone. It's enough to send me falling over the edge just behind him, pulsing inside him, the backflow of my cum slicking my already sticky cock as I continue thrusting into him, riding him through our mutual release.

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

Panting heavily, half-sobs hiccuping throughout, Lex goes limp in my embrace the instant his climax ends, limbs unwinding from their tangle around my body to flop unceremoniously to the floor. If he weren't so devastatingly beautiful like this, it would almost be comical. As it is, the sight of him as I open my eyes, all sprawled out and attempting to recover his wits, tear tracks down his cheeks and lips red and slightly puffy from abuse, leaves me breathless as I freeze above him, two last, powerful spurts of cum emptying into him.

"Lex," and Christ, my voice is raspy in my own ears as I finally speak, barely remembering not to just flop down on top of him. "You okay?"

He hums in acknowledgement, pulling me down onto him, seeking comfort as he comes back to himself. My deflating cock slips out of his stretched hole on a rush of wet warmth, and I can't even find it in myself to care about the mess that's going to leave. Plenty of time to hide the blanket in the laundry later. Lex snuggles into me as I roll us onto our sides, my hand rubbing down his back soothingly. Distantly, I notice the CD has started back at the beginning and the soft sound of Lex's voice singing along draws my gaze to his face.

"Seriously, Lex. That was…intense…are you sure you're alright?"

"I will be. Trust me, Clark, I'm good at compartmentalizing. I just want to be here, with you, right now. I'll process it all later."

I sigh and give him a wary look as he gives me a quick kiss before pulling himself upright, looking around us for his discarded clothes.

"Okay, but…promise me, if you start having some kind of freak-out, all alone in that empty castle of yours, surrounded by…everything…call me? I'll hear you, even without a phone, and I'll be there in seconds. You don't have to go through this alone, Lex. This is new, and scary, exciting, but scary, for me, too. We have to navigate this together."

I know Lex. I know, that left to his own devices, with no one to confide in, to work things out with, he'll internalize everything and let his own doubts override everything else. And that could never lead anywhere good.

Lex smiles down at me as he stands, reaching out a hand to pull me up with him. There's a lot going on behind those bright blue eyes, but I see the walls falling back into place, shuttering away the deep turmoil that had been there before. He pulls me into a tight hug, briefly nuzzling his nose into my neck.

"I promise, Clark."

Lex releases me and starts rooting around for his jeans. I have to look away when he bends down to retrieve them, my spent cock twitching interestedly at the sight of his ass, the light glistening on the trails of cum wetting the backs of his thighs. Busying myself with my own redressing distracts my teenage libido enough that I'm not too uncomfortable by the time I pull my zipper up.

Once we're both dressed, I pull him into my arms, my eyes roving over his face, memorizing. There's still a bit of openness there, enough to see the determination to succeed cementing within him. When a Luthor sets themself on a goal, it's like a dog with a bone. A soft smile twists my lips as I dip my head to capture his mouth, my tongue soothing over his kiss-bruised lips before delving between them.

I'm so focused on Lex, his taste and the scent of his sweat and cum still filling my senses, I barely hear the soft gasp over the sound of his moan and the music still playing from the speakers. The clatter and crash of ceramic on the wooden floor breaks through, though. Wrenching away from each other, as one, our heads whip around towards the stairs. I gulp loudly at the sight of the figure standing on the top step.

"Oh, my God."

*******

@leatafandom

#clex #smallville fanfic #smallville #lemon

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raedear · 2 years

Note

Just caught up on your musicians au, obsessed, potential line for your perusal:

“What was it that made you love him?”

There was something about Quỳnh that made it nearly impossible to not honestly answer whatever she asked. Nicky just wished she had asked anything else.

'What was it that made you love him?'

There was something about Quỳnh that made it nearly impossible to not honestly answer whatever she asked. Nicky just wished she had asked anything else.

'I didn't tell you about that so you could quiz me on it,' Nicky said, fussing with his tobacco and even to himself blatantly stalling for time.

Ever the picture of patience (outside of laggy computers or people walking slowly in front of her) Quỳnh waited, tapping one foot on the sustain pedal in a clicking refrain of leather on metal that ticked in the back of Nicky's brain.

'Why would you tell me about it if you didn't want to talk about it?' she asked, tipping her head elegantly to the side. Her hair caught the shine of the light through the window, and the diamond of her engagement ring did too as she reached out and plucked Nicky's cigarette tin from his hand.

He sighed, and dragged a hand down his face. Through his fingers he saw Quỳnh click the tin open. She'd roll herself one too as she always did, and shamelessly blame him when Andy smelled it on her later.

'It wasn't anything specific,' he said at last, tipping his head back to rest against the wall. 'It was just... hard not to. He was funny, and smart, and he challenged me more than anyone ever had before. I liked it.'

Quỳnh flicked a rollie at him, and he caught it with one hand before it could hit him in the nose. Again. She waved her hand at him to keep going as she plucked another skin from the pack to roll another.

'It was just a teenage crush,' Nicky said, rolling the cigarette between his fingers. 'It ended badly, what else do you want me to say?'

Quỳnh shrugged, dipping her head to lick the seal of the paper. 'It ended badly, but it ended, didn't it?'

'Of course it did,' scoffed Nicky, who never claimed to have a lot of dignity, but he at least had some.

'If it ended,' began Quỳnh, getting to her feet and offering a hand to help Nicky up off the floor. 'Why are you still behaving like a jilted lover?'

Nicky flinched back from her. It was a tiny motion, one most people wouldn't see, but Quỳnh saw it. Her grip tightened on Nicky's had to keep him from moving any further away from her.

'That--I don't--' Nicky sputtered, trying to pull his hand away from hers without hurting her.

'I'm not saying you're not allowed to be upset at seeing him again,' Quỳnh said, using her unshakeable grip on Nicky's hand to tug him towards the door. 'I'm just saying, he didn't turn you down yesterday. He turned you down a long time ago.'

'He did more than turn me down,' Nicky said, more than a little wounded. 'He told me he hated me, and that we'd never even been friends. I lost my crush and my best friend in the same instant.'

Quỳnh softened minutely, pausing in her stride towards the practice room door.

'I'm sorry,' she said, squeezing Nicky's hand. 'I phrased that poorly. I'm just saying. It's been a long time for him too. Maybe it's worth giving him a chance to be better this time? You only hurt yourself when you hold on to pain.'

'What if I'm not holding on to pain,' Nicky said, quietly, looking at the cigarette in his hand instead of the look on Quỳnh's face. 'What if I'm avoiding adding more to it?'

Quỳnh waited until he looked at her again. Her mouth was twisted at the corner the way it did when she had to learn a tricky finger pattern.

'You can't spend your life that way, Nicky,' she said at last, in a tone so gentle it hurt something in Nicky's chest. 'Who knows what you'll miss?'

also here on ao3

#musicians au #joenicky #kaysanova #immortal husbands #the old guard

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percontaion-points · 5 months

Text

Heartless chapters 3 & 4

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 3

As soon as I was away from the academy, any connections I’d made here would be meaningless.

That’s honestly school in a nutshell.

Since the math teacher had returned to Ireland…

[...]

It was a pretty set, with a teapot and matching sugar bowl. When I’d commented on it, he’d told me he would compromise on a lot of things, but never tea. And yet he’d left this behind.

1) First off, bold of you to assume that he went back willingly

2) Weird of you to think that they wouldn’t have any tea in Ireland. Have you ever met an Irishman who wasn’t nuts about tea?

“If you’re in trouble, you should talk to your Clan Alpha. No matter what’s happened between you, he has a responsibility to help you.”

Full offence, but his help has only led to Vail being in worsening trouble.

Which alpha, you ask? Literally all of them. They’re all shit. Every single one of them without redemption.

I pulled away and shook my head at him. “Been there, and have the tracker scar to prove it.”

Chapter 3 summary: Callum is quick to leave to go continue fucking his MILF, Tily. I am once again asking what Callum is getting from any of this if it’s not fucking Vail.

Anyway, she mopes around for a bit, before she wanders to the dud dorm. There, the duds all but laugh at her after she “chose” Callum… Apparently the thought of being forced is beyond them. She goes to the nurse’s office, where the nurse tells her that the alpha has been going around and healing people. The attackers used tranquillisers, so nobody was actually killed, but there were some injuries.

Vail then randomly goes to Mr. Wentworth’s office, and is surprised to find him there. She thought that he’d gone back to Ireland. He says all of this stuff about wishing that he’d known how shit would have turned out the night he handed Vail over to Trey, but like… If you actually gave a shit about her, I feel like he would be working endlessly to get her out from this rapist factory.

Anyway, he keeps hammering on how “the alpha can protect you. Go seek guidance from the alpha!” But to Vail, that’s like saying “It’s only a little bit of a bullet to the brain! Go back to the people who put it there in the first place!” She’s naturally like “No thanks.”

Chapter 4

“You’re going to leave?” Nadia looked horrified. “Vail, you can’t! The last time you went home, the Black Den Pack almost killed you!”

Jasmine’s nod was so vigorous, it sent her blonde curls flying. “Not to mention the fact they’re still sweeping bits of fur off the front steps!”

It hasn’t even been a full day since it happened!

“I’m sorry, Vail. I really love you like a sister, which is why I have to tell Jasper about this.”

Her confession felt like a blow. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a betrayal. She really believed Jasper Arras was the only one who could help me.

The stupidest part about this is that she witnessed the events of the second book. She saw the way that Jasper had literally shackled Vail.

AND SHE STILL FUCKING THINKS THAT JASPER IS THE SOLUTION TO ALL OF VAIL’S PROBLEMS.

“Um. No.” I took the slip of paper from my pocket and checked the name. “Mr. Wentworth said to try here…”

[...]

“Information on voids. Mr. Wentworth loaned me a book by Laurence Marrow, and I was hoping for something similar.”

The other librarian was on the computer, but her glance was sharp. “We don’t stock books like that. If you have questions about cursed wolves, you should ask your teachers.”

I shouldn’t even be surprised that the librarians at this cursed school are fucking terrible at their jobs, and have zero listening comprehension.

“But there are others? You’ve met shifters that weren’t wolves?”

“That’s what a void is, Vail,” he said gently. “Just a different kind of shifter.”

You’ve got to be shitting me right now.

Except our audience was male, had eyes like blue flames, and was bristling with an alpha power I could feel through the door.

Chapter 4 summary: Vail sulks around the dud break room because she doesn’t know what else to do with her life. Eventually, her friends find her, and Vail tells them that she has to get in contact with Darkness. That this will magically make everything better. Newly minted alpha Marnie doesn’t view going against the pack as a good thing, and warns that she’s going to tell Jasper about anything Vail does. So much for that friendship. The omegas convince her to help Vail to escape, but I’m not sure that I’d trust her after that.

Vail then goes to the library, since Mr. Wentworth had given her instructions to do so. Once there, she finds out that Theo Grille isn’t an author, but one of the school librarians. He takes her into a room full of rare books, and then does a partial shift: he’s a werefalcon.

Theo explains to her that voids are only non-wolf shifters. Things that the wolves refuse to acknowledge or even pretend like they understand today. A long time ago, there used to be six different families, each with their own animal and territory in Europe. Now, the other 5 houses have been hunted to near extinction because the werewolves craved power that much. The entire thing basically boils down to racism.

Theo’s own story is basically that he was once in Vail’s shoes. He was labelled a dud when he first came to the school, and was eventually bumped up to omega status. But his mother helped him to uncover who and what he actually is. The only way he knows how to survive is to keep his head down in the middle of the werewolves, which I guess is as good of a play as any. He’s also not an omega in the werefalcon circles; the different families have different ranking systems.

At the end of this, as Vail is thanking him for this info, she looks up and sees an alpha. Considering that the next chapter is from Jasper’s POV, I’m pretty sure that it’s him.

#Heartless (HMA 3)#hunter moon academy #bookblr #book review

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autolovecraft · 1 year

Text

I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live.

As he planned, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made.

On the afternoon of Friday, April 15th, then, Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. An eye for an eye! As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a year ago last August … He was the devil incarnate, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.

There was evidently, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it. Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. Great heavens, Birch, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.

The light was dim, but Birch's sight was good, and he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. The skull turned my stomach, but the other was worse—those ankles cut neatly off to fit Matt Fenner's cast-aside coffin! The boxes were fairly even, and could be piled up like blocks; so he began to compute how he might most stably use the eight to rear a scalable platform four deep. Sawyer was not a lovable man, and many stories were told of his almost inhuman vindictiveness and tenacious memory for wrongs real or fancied. The light was dim, but Birch's sight was good, and he did not care to imagine. You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he had chosen it, how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a succession of shuddering whispers that seared into the bewildered ears like the hissing of vitriol. He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb. At last the spring thaw came, and graves were laboriously prepared for the nine silent harvests of the grim reaper which waited in the tomb. I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. I think the greatest lameness was in his soul.

Perhaps he screamed. He could not walk, it appeared, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the overhead ventilation funnel virtually none at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch.

Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin! The undertaker grew doubly lethargic in the bitter weather, and seemed to outdo even himself in carelessness. Armington helped Birch to the outside of a spare bed and sent his little son Edwin for Dr. Davis.

He cried aloud once, and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. Sawyer in their last illnesses. It may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities.

The vault had been dug from a hillside, so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked. Then he fled back to the lodge and broke all the rules of his calling by rousing and shaking his patient, and hurling at him a succession of shuddering whispers that seared into the bewildered ears like the hissing of vitriol.

At any rate he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon. After a full two hours Dr. Davis left Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. Would the firm Fenner casket have caved in so readily? Over the door, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it.

The tower at length finished, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members; binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible.

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chrimsone · 2 years

Text

I'm feeling helplessly sad today. I want to cry, I almost did. I talked about my cats. I got to Toby. I remembered the day he died. What's funny is he hasn't even impacted my psyche the way Willow did. He lived a long, happy life. One I had to witness the end of, but I knew he was loved for so long.

He's not the reason I feel this way though.

I just, feel so useless? Insignificant, I guess.

We're not even a week into November and my life has turned into work then sleep. When I find the time to be on my computer I just stare at the screen, not mustering up the courage to even play something.

I can't even try to enjoy work anymore. A new manager did a complete 180 and probably hates my guts. I feel nervous whenever I'm around her, I'm constantly walking on glass because I can't stand the way she tries to boss me around but if I defy her it's ultimately insubordination. I hate this job but I don't want to get fired.

Maybe, what triggered this was my attempt to work for Bungie. I took a look at their list. Narrative Design. Sounded like it was gear and bounty flavor text. Something not daunting. Something to get me out of retail and into something I might actually enjoy.

I spent nearly a week slaving over a cover letter. It was my only chance. I have no credentials. I'm just a high school graduate working the same job I first got when I was seventeen.

I have no passions. They all died by the time I graduated. Art? I have fucking aphantasia. No matter how hard I try it never looks right. I couldn't, and can't, afford a mentor. I liked space. So Astronomy? I barely passed pre-calculus. I dropped out of the real thing only one trimester in. I hated my teacher, but mostly myself for not being able take in any knowledge. By then, I was hopeless. I've considered veterinary work, with my love for cats. I know I'd see them in pain, it's why I never considered it when I was younger. Maybe that's part of why I never got too serious. You need licenses to practice. More education that I can't afford. Recently I've gained a minor passion for writing. I've made little stories in my head since elementary school, developing them better as I grew. I wrote some fics in high school. Kept most of it to myself. I stopped until earlier this year. And I realized, I could convey my thoughts in this artistic way much better than when I tried to draw. I loved finding the right word to convey the emotion I wanted. But whenever I made something, inside, I nagged at myself. What if I try to take writing seriously? Will I go into learning how to do everything properly and realize I'm just missing some vital brain composition just like I am with drawing? I'm scared. Scared that the one thing I'm clinging onto for a future will make me fall just like the rest. Of course, there's video games. I'm always tempting just throwing it in, essentially selling my body like some shitty v-tuber on twitch because dudes are horny. Maybe QA testing. But even then I worry that I'm not skilled enough to try and break a game for release.

I got advice from my friends. Bugged them the whole time, sending them paragraphs and asking for advice. I wanted this to be perfect. It was my only chance. I was so anxious to even send it, but I managed to late last Friday.

I never got an email back. I actually just wondered if maybe they called instead. I haven't checked my voicemail in months. As I'm writing this, I finally looked, maybe they called me instead? Still, nothing. I wasn't considered. I'm not good enough. My letter did nothing. Something I worked so hard on, something I wrote specifically for other eyes, failed.

I hate this world. I hate having to ask for help. I want to be self sufficient. I wish I never existed. That someone else was in my place. I'm not worthy of having a soul. Someone else with more will is deserving of my life. I'm just merely a husk, wasting precious resources.

Y'know. I'll post this. And usually I feel like a weight is lifted off my chest. That I got these awful thoughts out somewhere. Maybe, someone'll come across them and learn of me. They wont plague only me anymore. But I'll click the button, and still feel awful. I won't hop into my clan's voice chat and act like I wasn't crying to myself for an hour. I won't simply get up and do something like eating or laundry before bed. I'll just sit, staring at the dashboard I don't even look at anymore, until it hits the time I'm supposed to go to bed for work tomorrow. All while listening to shit that keeps me in this awful mood.

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lemonjoonah · 3 years

Text

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?” You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.” The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry. “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head. “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose? “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside. Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a warm and earthy scent envelopes you. His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel. Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid. “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin. “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod. A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth. He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts. And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom. A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

#jungkook smut #hybrid jungkook #bts hybrid au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts the garden thief #bts smut #jungkook x reader

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bkwrm523 · 3 years

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Debriefing

Title: Debriefing Rating: Explicit Pairing: Bruce Wayne/reader Word Count: 2986 Warnings: Smut, batcave sex, table sex, oral, vibrators, daddy kink, feels confessions. Summary: Bruce and the reader have an argument after patrol Author’s Note: As usual, this is about no particular universe’s Batman. You get to see whichever one you want.

The car pulled to a stop inside Bruce Wayne’s garage, and you exhaled a sigh of relief as you turned the car off. You’d almost stopped to pick him up, but Alfred over the coms had assured you that he would drive the Batmobile home. Probably a better idea than you picking him up, anyway. It would have been hard to explain. With all the punishment you’d put Bruce’s car through, you were a bit surprised it had managed to limp all the way home.

“Alfred,” you said aloud, your voice picked up by the com unit in your ear. “Is-”

“Master Bruce is already here.” Alfred answered, not needing to wait for the rest of your question to know what you were asking. “He’s currently in the cave, if you wish to speak to him.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” You signed and shut your eyes for a minute.

Bruce had almost died tonight.

You could tell something was wrong with the supervillain he just charged into, and tried to warn Bruce to take it slow and careful. He hadn’t listened, and you’d had to rescue him. By stealing one of Bruce Wayne’s cars and trying to run the villain over.

You finally pushed the car door open, heaving yourself out of the car and walked into the house. It felt like it took an hour for you to reach the batcave, so massive was the house.

“So, that went well.” You spat sarcastically as you descended into the Batcave. You could see the top of Bruce’s head around the desk and monitors, and walked slowly towards him.

“It could have been worse.” He replied, not turning towards you. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” You told him calmly. “It wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d just listened to me from the start.” Your voice was clipped, not afraid to make your annoyance audible. You finally walked around the computer, and his form came fully into view.

And damn was that a mistake. He was shirtless.

You’d been working for Bruce for months, and had been suppressing your feelings for him the whole time. He was miles out of your league. You could never quite tell if he’d figured it out or not. Bruce wasn’t the easiest person to lie to, but the way he behaved… it was either totally innocent, or he was enjoying toying with you. It made you frightened and excited all at once.

Bruce still wore the pants and boots of the Batsuit, but he’d discarded everything above the waist. Your mouth went dry, and you suddenly forgot how to form words. You swallowed, an effort of will keeping your jaw from dropping to the floor. It was quite difficult to remember why you’d been angry. There was a large bandage on his shoulder from where he’d been grazed by a bullet. The rest of his torso was a mass of bruises. It was hardly a secret how much Bruce worked out, and damn did it show with the view of him without a shirt. You couldn’t take your eyes off his chest.

“I’ve faced skilled opponents before.” Bruce said calmly, turning to face you. Somehow, you managed to force your eyes off his chest and back to his face. Was that a smirk? Shit, his face wasn’t any better. You took in a breath, looking away from him and down at the desk, searching your brain for the arguments that had been so clear before he’d taken his fucking shirt off.

“We… uh, we needed a plan.” You stuttered out, sounding anything but convincing.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” Bruce replied, sounding amused. He stepped closer to you, and you felt your breath catch. You didn’t think you could handle this. “I know what I’m doing, and I felt I could handle the situation.”

“You wanted me to be a part of this team because you wanted my advice.” A full sentence! Fantastic! And all that went out the window when your eyes flitted over his still bare chest again. Fuck. “If - if, uh, you don’t listen to me, then… then I’m not - not sure what I’m, uhm, doing here.” Look away from his face. Look away from his chest. Fuck, just look away from him in general. You quickly dropped your eyes back to the desk. Safer that way. Bruce moved again, stepping into your space until you could feel the warmth from his body.

“I won’t always agree with you, but don’t underestimate your contributions.” Bruce replied, smooth and comforting. He rested a hand on your arm, and you nearly moaned aloud at the touch of his skin on yours. He rubbed a thumb gently against the skin on your inner arm, and you swallowed again. His other hand gently grabbed your chin, lifting your head to force you to look at him. You had to fight the urge to let out a squeak, feeling trapped under his gaze. His eyes… the best you could describe it, was predatory amusement.

“I, uh…” you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. A smirk curled his lips as he stared at you. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Bruce said, his voice filled with amusement as his smirk grew smug. He stepped forward again, forcing you to stumble backwards until your ass hit the desk. His steps were slow and measured and confident, where you were an undignified scramble, nearly falling before you hit the desk. You could feel his breath on your lips, making your own breath catch.

Finally, after months of teasing, your patience snapped.

You leaned into him, crossing the last of the distance between your lips and his. Bruce growled, and this time you couldn’t stop the squeak that emerged from you. A small smile curled his lips briefly. The hand that had been on your chin moved to cup the back of your skull and hold you in place as his tongue pushed into your mouth, ravaging your lips. You moaned, leaning into him, overwhelmed with sensation. His stubble was starting to grow back, making the kiss pleasantly rough. His hand on your head, his other arm on your back, the warmth of his bare chest pressing into you. He kissed you aggressively, leaning you back against the table. You lifted your arms to wrap around his shoulders, clinging to him as he dominated the kiss, trapping you against his form. A thigh pushed between your legs, pushing one leg out of the way. His pants were armored, so you couldn’t tell if he was erect under them, but you’d be willing to bet he was. You tried to mumble around his lips and tongue, but everything came out muffled, and all you could do was surrender and moan.

When Bruce finally released your lips, you dropped your head back and gasped for air. A moment later, the breath left your lungs when you felt Bruce’s lips on your neck. The stubble that had been pleasant during the kiss was so much more stimulating on your neck, and your knees simply gave out. The hand on your head dropped to your back, and his grip tightened around you, holding you aloft. He lifted you a little, setting you down on the desk. The elevated height brought your face about level with his, and he finally stood up straight. Your mouth went dry again, trying to take everything in at once, for about a second before he was on you again.

Your legs went around his waist, his chest pressed against you again. One arm went around your back, and the other lifted to tilt your head to the side, giving him access to your neck. You whined and squirmed in his arms as his lips stole your ability to think. He leaned into you, his hips making little thrusts into you. Your head rolled back on your shoulders, and your fingers scratched at his bare shoulderblades. You whined his name, panting and trying to find the breath to plead. He gave a groaning growl and leaned into you. You whined more and ground into him, wishing he’d just take off his pants already so you could feel him.

One of the arms on your back went lowered, until it was practically around your ass. He pulled your hips into his, holding you tightly to him and ground back into you. You cried his name as his teeth bit into your neck, biting and sucking just where you were most sensitive. He rubbed against your clit until your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Bruce,” you breathed, your hand unconsciously lifting to bury in his hair. Another growl came from your neck. His hips rhythmically rocked into yours, making you whine and moan and plead. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was a vise, and you weren’t escaping any time soon.

Bruce ripped away from you, stepping back and withdrawing his heat from you as suddenly as he’d attacked you, leaving you dazed, breathless, and confused. He held your gaze for a long moment, before dropping his eyes down to his pants as he undid the latches. You almost leaned forward to help him, but resisted the urge; his pants were armored, and bound to be complicated. However they were designed, he’d be much more efficient at removing them than you would.

A moment later, it occurred to you that his hands were busy. That they would be for a few moments, at least. You pulled your shirt off quickly, tossing it heedlessly to the side. Your bra was discarded an instant later. You leaned back a little, dropping your head back on your shoulders, sliding your eyelids partly shut and cupping your breasts with your hands. You tweaked your nipples, giving a soft sigh at the stimulation. You kept your eyes on him, and so you saw the exact moment he heard you sigh, and saw his eyes snapped up to you. They narrowed when he saw what you were doing. A small growl escaped his lips, and you bit your own lip to suppress the noise that tried to escape you. His movements on his pants were swift and clipped, and in no time he had removed the rest of his clothes. He took a swift step forwards, and you dropped your hands to the desk and smirked at him.

“You realize you’re going to pay for that, kitten?” Bruce asked, giving a crooked, confident smirk.

“Worth it,” you giggled. Bruce held your eyes for a moment, then produced a zip tie from a drawer. He didn’t give you time to speak, but pulled your hands behind your back, and secured them in place. He pulled the zip tie tight, but looser than you expected. You wiggled a little, testing it; it was tight enough to keep your hands there, but loose enough that you’d have no trouble pulling them free if you really wanted to. Bruce waited for you to finish testing it, until you looked back up at him. He kissed you again, gentle this time, cupping the back of your skull again with one hand and planting the other behind you. You squirmed a little, struggling fruitlessly against the bonds and his hands, but got nowhere. Bruce leaned forward, slowly pushing you back. You leaned into his arms, letting him support you as he carefully pushed you down onto the desk, lying somewhat awkwardly on top of your bound hands. He released your lips with a parting nip, letting you gasp for breath as you tried to guess his next move.

You half expected him to attack your breasts, but instead you felt his hands at your pants. He undid them, pulled them off, leaving you lying naked on the table. You could suppress the small ‘meep’ that emerged when you saw the way he ogled your naked pussy ravenously. Bruce turned his torso around, looking around the small space you were both in, until he spotted the chair. He grabbed it, pulling it over next to the space of counter you were lying on, and sat.

Oh.

He intended to take his time with you.

You swallowed reflexively, nervous and excited all at once. It must have shown on your face, as Bruce gave you a smirk with eyes full of mischief. From the angle you had, you couldn’t really see much more than his face. But you suddenly felt his fingers tease your opening ever so lightly. You gave a loud moan and dropped your head down on the table with a thunk. When you felt a vibrator teasing around your clit, you gave a yelp and your legs jerked. Where the ever living fuck had he gotten that from?!

Bruce didn’t show any mercy, continuing his teasing of your clit as he leaned in. You felt his breath on your pussy lips, and your eyes slid closed as your breath came in short, quick pants. His tongue pushed into you, and you felt as much as heard his pleased groan at your taste. A small whine left you at the noise, the vibrations from him and the vibrator teasing you more than stimulating you, leaving you desperate for more.

“Bruce,” you gasped. “Please.”

The vibrator grazed your clit then, and your legs shot straight up. Bruce leaned into you, burying his face in you and devouring you ravenously. He rested his free hand on your hip, holding you steady as he tortured you with tongue and vibrator until you screamed.

Two or three orgasms later, you’d lost count, Bruce sat back and removed his stimulation, finally letting you come down. Your legs (you hadn’t quite registered it, but apparently they’d been sticking out totally straight while he’d been working on you) fell back down to the counter. You panted hard, trying to catch your breath after the marathon he’d put you through.

Bruce stood, leaning over you and resting his arms on the table to support his weight. His expression was tender, gentle, in a contrast to the pleasurable torture he’d just put you through. One hand stroked a lock of hair out of your face.

“Can you do one more, kitten?” Bruce asked you softly. You didn’t even have to think, you just nodded.

Bruce dropped a short, soft kiss on your lips, then nuzzled his face into your neck. Your overstimulated nerves jumped at the feeling, and all you could do was give a weak moan and squirm a little. He leaned his hips into yours, until you felt his erection against your pussy, sliding against your clit. The orgasms he’d given you made you still wet enough that it felt amazing. You groaned, and Bruce stopped his teasing of your neck to sink his teeth into your skin and growl.

“‘M ready.” You gasped out. “Please.” That drew another growl from Bruce, and he let your neck out of his teeth, resting his forehead against you and panting into your wet skin. One hand left the table, going between his legs to position his dick as he pulled back.

When Bruce finally slid into you, it was so painfully slow that you couldn’t help but squirm and whine.

“Stop. Moving.” Bruce growled, his voice dropping into his Batman voice, only arousing you further.

“Please, daddy!” You cried, then froze. The words just came out without thinking, and you didn’t know if he was into that. Bruce stopped moving for a moment, as well, and for a horrible moment you were terrified that you’d killed the mood.

“Be patient, princess.” Bruce growled into your ear, nipping at you. Lust filled his voice, soothing your worry that your exclamation had been unwanted; far from it.

Bruce kept pushing his dick into you, continuing until he bottomed out. Then he just sat there, frustratingly patient, waiting and panting and nipping at your neck while he waited for you to adjust.

“Please, daddy, just fuck me!” You finally cried, unable to wait any longer.

And boy, did he.

Bruce’s hands on the table moved, grasping the far edge of it with both hands to hold it steady as his hips thrusted into yours. Your head rolled back, arching your back into him. You were utterly unable to speak, tiny unintelligible noises emitting from you. Bruce buried his face in your neck, alternately sucking and nipping hard at your neck as he made the table shudder from his thrusts.

You were still overstimulated from the earlier orgasms, and he was so aroused already, it didn’t take you both long to climb to the precipice. Your vision whited out and you screamed, feeling him orgasm inside you moments later.

When you came to, you were still in the batcave. Your hands were unbound, and your shirt and pants had been put back on you. Judging by the feel between your legs, he’d taken a damp towel or something and wiped you clean, and then apparently set you in the cot he had set up down in the batcave. You made a small inquisitive noise, stirring, and Bruce suddenly came into your line of vision. He walked over to you, and sat on the side of the bed next to you.

“Hey,” you greeted him, your voice rough and groggy. Bruce looked… uncertain. Nervous. You pulled a hand free of the blankets and held his, wanting to reassure him.

“Hey.” Bruce replied, a small smile emerging at your action. His thumb rubbed the part of your hand it could reach soothingly. “This… this wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you how I felt.” “Really?” You teased. “It seemed perfect to me.” That startled a laugh out of Bruce, and you warmed at the sound.

“Be that as it may, I’d… I’d really like to take you to dinner sometime.” “I’d like that.” You smiled back up at him.

#fanfiction #bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne/reader #batman/reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce waynexreader #batmanxreader #bruce wayne/reader smut #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce waynexreader smut #batman/reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman smut

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1kook · 4 years

Text

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates.

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens.

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class.

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him.

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all.

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly.

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months.

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got.

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career.

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course.

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.”

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you.

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.)

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side.

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly.

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil.

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester.

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness.

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you.

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face.

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!”

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things.

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone.

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought.

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you.

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news.

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward.

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason.

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away.

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom.

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same.

Apparently not.

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed.

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile.

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.”

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck.

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot.

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi.

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.”

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face.

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments.

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.”

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.”

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character.

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester.

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right.

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile. He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.”

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?”

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh.

This man was dangerous for your heart.

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.”

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you.

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well.

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook.

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#mine

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hispipsqueak · 3 years

Text

Good Little Pet

Satan x F!Reader - NSFW

WC: 2.5K

TW: pet play, anal play, choking, master/pet dynamics, maid outfits, light degradation, unprotected sex

A/N: I’ve been on a huge Satan kick lately. I roast the hell out of him, but would I still die to be his kitten? You bet! Sorry I’ve been MIA for a bit. I have so many fics I’m working on, and not enough time in the day. Thank you for all the support friends. <3 I see your tags and they honestly make my entire life! Also I did proofread this, but I’ve also been staring at it for a week so plz don’t hate me if there’s typos! :D

All characters are 18+

The House of Lamentation had been unusually relaxed today. Most of the brothers were out, leaving only three home. Surprisingly the room was mostly silent as Levi had his headphones on as he played his game and even Mammon had been quiet, as he fiddled with his D.D.D.

Satan thumbed through a mystery novel as he sipped his tea. Though he usually preferred to read in his room, the ambience here was relaxed enough for once, that he could focus.

Until the door opened and Asmodeus walked in, dragging you behind him laughing. The two of you had been out shopping and the stack of boxes you held towered above you.

"Ah, Satan could you help me with this?" You asked, giggling about something Asmo had said. Sighing as he placed his bookmark, Satan reached over to help you with the boxes, revealing your smiling face and the cat-ear headband you had on top of your head.

"Satan, isn't MC adorable as a cute cat?! Nya for us MC!" Asmo asked. You rolled your eyes, but put your hand up in a paw shape, letting out a sweet "nya". Satan's eyes widened and he could feel heat rising into his cheeks. He quickly turned around.

"Uh, yes of course. I'll be going back to my room." He placed the boxes on the floor and hurried away as you and Asmo looked at each other confused.

Satan closed his door behind him and pressed his back to the wooden frame.

Satan often considered himself to be more level headed than most of his brothers, but he couldn't deny his attraction to you. Still, he showed less emotion outwardly than the rest of the brothers and he prided himself in that. However, seeing you in those cat ears, giving cute little meows as your eyes gazed up at him? Satan could feel his growing erection tenting his pants.

He had seen one of Levi's games a while back that featured a cat girl in a scantily clad maid outfit on the front cover. Now, he pictured you in the same outfit, cat ears atop your head, your skimpy dress leaving little to the imagination as you knelt in front of him, your lips parted waiting for your master's orders.

Fuck. He let out a shaky breath as the image of you bent over his desk, collared and begging for him to fuck you now entered his mind. His hand slid down to his throbbing cock, desperately wanting release.

A knock at the door interrupted him.

"Satan? You left your book and your tea. I brought it for you." Your voice called out, tentatively.

Shit. Satan looked around wildly. before sitting at his desk to hide his obvious arousal.

"Come in." He called out hoarsely, hoping you didn't notice the quiver in his voice.

You opened the door, still wearing those damned ears and looked concerningly at him.

"Are you feeling alright? You rushed out of there and your face is really red." You placed his things on the desk as you walked towards him, avoiding the precarious stacks of books around the room. He quickly grabbed a book from the top of a pile and placed it on his lap as you approached him.

"I'm fine, just got lost in thought." He lied. You raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. The pile of books next to him chose that moment to clatter to the ground and before he could react, you knelt down in front of him to pick up the fallen books.

He looked down at you and bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. You looked up at him innocently, identical to the naughty visions of you in his mind.

You placed a hand on his knee and he let out a low groan. Your eyes widened.

"Satan? I-"

"Come down for dinner!" Asmo's voice chirped out from outside the door. You stood up and turned.

"Do you want me to let them know you're not feeling well? I can bring you something back."

Satan nodded. He had to really take care of the very pressing issue at hand and knew he wouldn't be able to sit through an entire agonizing meal.

----

"Pass the salt, Asmo."

"I didn't hear a 'nya', MC." Asmo giggled, poking his tongue out at you. Your hand flew to your hair.

"I forgot I had these on!" You laughed.

"Let's hope Satan doesn't see those." Levi muttered.

You cocked your head. "What do you mean."

Levi's face flushed. "Uh...no reason, er, nothing!!!"

You narrowed your eyes at the reddening demon.

"Satan's obsession with cats doesn't stop at real cats. Didn't he get obsessed with that stupid cat girl game?" Belphie yawned, sliding his half-finished plate to Beel who dug in happily.

"You mean Neko Magic Maid♡. It wasn't even that good of a game!" Levi said, "It definitely wasn't as good as SuperStar Magic Maid…"

"Yeah. I don't think he was interested in the storyline." Mammon interjected, laughing.

Lucifer scolded the brothers for being crass but your mind wandered. Was that why Satan was acting so weird? After dinner, you headed to Levi's room.

"Hey Levi! I was wondering more about that game you were talking about? The catgirl one?"

Levi didn't even turn from his computer screen. "Yeah it's on that shelf. But if you really like the Magic Maid series you should start with Springtime Magic…AHHH HE'S RESPAWNED!" He yelled, ignoring you again for the game he was currently playing.

You grabbed the game and slipped out of his room quietly. Glancing at the cover you saw a cat girl dressed in a ridiculously short maid costume. Her ears and tail were perked up and she donned a black collar around her neck with a little bell and tag that read 'Master'.

You grinned as you headed to your room. This would be fun.

----

"Satan?"

"Come in."

Satan turned the page in his book. Thankfully after that disastrous night, you hadn't worn that headband again, though he'd be lying if he said the image from you that day hadn't been filling his mind as he jerked his cock each night.

He heard you step into the room, but you didn't say anything. Looking up, his jaw dropped.

You were dressed in a maid outfit somehow more revealing than the one from the game. Your breasts were practically popping out of the dress, and the short skirt barely covered your ass. He could see the slight bulge of your thighs over top of your sheer thigh-high socks and he had the urge to bite that spot over and over.

You had the cat ears on again and as you walked towards him, he could hear a jingling noise. Glancing at your neck he saw a simple black collar with his name on the tag and a silver bell.

"MC what are you doing?" He breathed out shakily. You placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing him into his desk chair.

"Taking care of you…Master." You knelt down on the floor and looked at him expectantly.

Satan blinked rapidly. He had to be dreaming.

"Can I please you, Master?" You asked. He nodded, at a loss for words, and you began to unbutton his pants, freeing his rapidly hardening cock. Your hands wrapped around it squeezing, and you slowly moved up and down. Satan let out a groan.

You moved closer, pressing your lips to the tip of his cockhead before lapping at the beads of precum from the slit. You slid his length into your warm, wet mouth and looked into his eyes, swirling your tongue around his cock. This elicited another grunt from the blonde demon.

As you bobbed up and down on his length, he rested his hand on your hair, gently pushing you deeper on his cock. You moaned around him and the vibrations made his heart race. He looked down at you, and noticed the tail that led to under your skirt.

The realization set a switch off in his brain. He bucked his hips, forcing more of his cock into your mouth.

"Ohhhh fuck. That's it kitten. You like choking on Master's cock?" He asked, his fingers gripping tightly to your hair. You could only gag around him as a response, and the noises you let out were absolutely sinful.

"Such a good little pet. Your throat is squeezing me so well, kitten. But you can go deeper, can't you? Don't you want to please your master?" He asked.

Frantically you nodded and forced even more of him down your throat, trying your best to breathe out of your nose. As you tried to pull back, his grip tightened, holding you firmly in place. Your eyes watered as you felt his cock throb in your throat and your vision blurred, from tears or lack of oxygen, you weren’t sure. He pulled back and you gasped for air, tear streaked face looking up at him. Satan panicked, apologies already forming in his head before you grinned and pulled him back into your mouth.

“Fuuuuck, such a good kitten. Addicted to master’s cock.” Satan groaned out, his eyes closing as you found your pace on his length. He could feel his release creeping up on him, a fiery feeling in the core of him as your mouth enveloped his cock. The room filled with soft pants and the jingling of the bell around your neck. He met your eyes as you continued to take him deeper. He wouldn’t last much longer if you kept like this.

“That’s it kitten, that’s it. You want master’s milk? Want your cute belly full of your master’s cum? Tell me, kitten.”

You whined around him, releasing his cock from your lips.

“Please master. Need to please you. Want your cum.” Your eyes were glassy with tears and drool dripped down the corners of your plump lips. Satan wished he could snap a picture of you looking so lewd.

“Good girl. Milk my cock kitten. Milk my fucking cock.” He gasped as you sped up around him, sloppier and more vigorously than before. Spit coated your chin and spilled onto his thighs as you wrapped your tongue around his cock.

“FUCK! Fuck, just like that!! Oh fuck, cumming!! Take it all, kitten. Fucking take it.” Satan wailed, his muscles tensing as he shot load after load down your throat. You struggled to swallow everything, with some dripping off your lips. Breathing hard, he scooped it with his finger, pushing it back into your mouth.

“Don’t waste a drop kitten.”

You sucked on his finger, a content smile on your face. He reached down, tugging your wrists and pulling you to your feet.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you kitten? Oh no...I want to explore every little bit of you.” He whispered, bending you over his desk. Flipping up your skirt he admired as the tail slid into your ass and gently tugged it, pulling a low moan from you.

“Such a naughty kitten. I can’t wait to fill all your holes with my seed.” He said, his hand palming your ass, before smacking you hard. You jolted forward with a soft whimper. He tugged at your tail again, chuckling as you squeezed your thighs together.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already squirming.” His fingers pressed against your drooling cunt. “Already this wet, just from a few tugs on your tail? What a slutty little pet you are.”

You moaned as he pressed his fingers into your cunt, the slick arousal easily letting him into you. He slowly pumped in and out of you as you attempted to grind against his palm, whining when he gripped your hips, stilling you.

“Look at you, kitten. Debasing yourself just to get off. How filthy.” His voice was sadistic and yet your body trembled with desire under his touch. Your brain was hazy with his fingers rhythmically plunging into you and all you wanted was for him to use you for his pleasure.

“Please Master. Please touch me.” You pleaded, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled his fingers out of you. He pushed you down on the desk, as he pressed his cockhead against your entrance.

“Beg.”

“Please fuck me master. Please let me cum around your cock. I need you so bad, sir – FUCK!”

Satan slammed his cock into you, causing you to cry out. His hand gripped your hip as he fucked himself deeper into you.

“Scream as loud as you want kitten, no one is going to hear you through the spells in this room. You’re clenching around me so deliciously, pet.” His fingertips bruised your skin and papers and books were knocked off the desk as he slammed into you over and over.

Your body shook and you felt so full with his cock in your pussy and the plug in your ass. You felt stretched to your limit and still he pressed on, fucking you until you saw stars.

“I can feel the pressure of your tail plug through your delicious cunt, kitten. Doesn’t it feel good to be so full? You’re such a lewd little kitten, aren’t you?” As he taunted you with his words, his fingers danced around your clit, causing your legs to feel like they were giving out. Relentless, he continued pounding into you as tears fell from your eyes.

“So, so full. So good, master! Your cock is so perfect, Master.” you babbled, your brain delirious with lust. The fire burning in your core was so overwhelming, your body ached for more and you needed him, needed your master to push you over that peak.

Satan growled, feeling his demon form activate. His tail wrapped itself around your neck, holding you in place as he wrecked you.

“Your lewd little pussy is fluttering around my cock, kitten. Are you going to cum for me? Are you going to cum for your master’s cock?” He panted out. He was close, apparent as his thrusts became harder and faster.

“Yes please Master. Let me cum on your cock!” You choked out, his tail tightening around your throat. Your eyes fluttered as you felt back arch.

“Cum for me, pet.”

That was all it took. You wailed as your cunt clenched around him, creaming around his cock. Your body convulsed and you felt dazed as you gushed around him.

“Fuck, kitten!” He groaned out. His hand slammed you down as he unloaded into you. He was so deep, you could practically feel his cum in your belly as he shot ropes of his hot seed into your body over and over. After what felt like a lifetime, he slowly slid out of you.

Picking you up he delicately placed you on his bed, wiping aways the traces of cum that dripped onto your thighs. He gently worked your tail plug out and placed it on the desk before covering you with his sheets.

“You did so good for me, kitten.” He whispered into your skin. Your eyes were too heavy to open, so you just smiled sleepily and curled into his chest. Running his hand through your hair, he undid the cat ear clips and placed them on his nightstand before succumbing to exhaustion, his whispered words barely audible.

“Good little pet.”

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me smut #obey me shall we date #satan x mc #satan x y/n #satan smut #omswd

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tobesoalive · 3 years

Text

r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)

hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!

Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?

For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.

You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.

Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.

You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.

All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.

What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.

During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.

“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.

“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.

“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”

“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”

“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.

“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.

“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”

“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.

After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.

Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.

You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.

It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.

“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.

“That show wore me out”

“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.

“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”

“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”

“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.

“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.

“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.

“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.

“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”

“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”

“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.

You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.

“I wish you would”

“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.

“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”

Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.

“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.

“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.

You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.

“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.

“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.

His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.

“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.

“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.

“Jake you really don’t have to” “Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.

“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”

Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.

“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.

“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s okay” he reassures you.

“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.

“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.

You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.

“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.

You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.

After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.

“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.

“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.

He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.

“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.

It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.

“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”

“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.

All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.

“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.

“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.

“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.

“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.

“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.

These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fan fic #sam kiszka #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka fanfic #Greta Van Fleet #gvf #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic

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