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highvern · 7 months

Text

Patterns I

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex

Length: ~10k

Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”

Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.

The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?

You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!

“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?”

Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.

You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.

“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”

Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk.

Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.

“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.

Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”

“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”

You snort in response.

Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job.

“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”

“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”

Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”

The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting.

Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.

In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.

Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.

It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.

The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips.

A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas.

Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.

The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.

Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces.

Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh.

This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.

It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.

You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.

After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse.

Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end.

Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth.

And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.

But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.

Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.

“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.

The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.

Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him.

Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.”

It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.

If he wants to play, you’ll play too.

“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago.

Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.

God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.

“Not convincing enough,” you chide.

The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth.

Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.”

You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.

This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore.

He wants you.

You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.

The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.

He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later.

“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.

“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back.

But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum.

Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.

Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.

Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward.

But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.

“What do you want?”

You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago.

“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.

You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range.

“Tell me and you can have it,” Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”

His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.

“Kiss me.”

You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.

Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.

Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.

Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage.

The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.

Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.

“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play.

He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.

None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment.

But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.

Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.”

Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.

“Please.”

The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.

Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit.

The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.

He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off.

A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve.

You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.

He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.

You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd.

But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily.

There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.

Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.

Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head.

He’ll probably like it, you think.

You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.

You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.

“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.”

One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question.

“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.

“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.

You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock.

Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.

“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.

You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.

Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.

“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point.

“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden.

Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.

“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.”

He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely.

“Right, Y/N?”

The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.

Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.

Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.

“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.

“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his.

“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.

You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.

Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.

He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad.

“Shit,” you curse.

Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”

“Soooo good.”

Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria.

Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.

“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”

His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give.

Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.

“Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”

His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth.

Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt.

His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.

“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”

The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.

You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat.

“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.

You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.

Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.

Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh.

After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.

Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.

Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen.

There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.

Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.

Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.

The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.

You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.

As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood.

“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.”

Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.

When did the window get above your bed?

You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.

“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.

Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.

It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.

Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force.

The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.

“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.

Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.

“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.

“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.

“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!”

Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep.

Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.

“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.

“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”

And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.

It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake.

Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.

You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch.

And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward.

Shit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.

There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.

“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.

Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.

One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.

Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more.

He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.

You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!

The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins.

It takes all the strength you possess to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.

“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.

The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.

The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him.

As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes.

Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.

You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.

Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.

You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.

Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.

After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.

The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.

Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin.

You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.

The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.

The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.

Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.

Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.

Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash.

You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal.

Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.

Opinion: He’s still infuriating.

Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.

Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.

Fact: You won’t do it again.

Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.

She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.

A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.

“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.

“Don’t feel good.”

“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”

You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water.

“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.

Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join.

“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…”

She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”

You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.

Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.”

“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”

“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”

“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”

Amina hums. Silence falling between you.

“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.

Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo.

Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.

“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.”

She leaves with out another word.

Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder.

The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.

If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.

But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time.

Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.

He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.

Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room.

Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.

From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out.

Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.

Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”.

To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping. He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless.

Worth it, he thinks

The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.

Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.

And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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n30nwrites · 7 months

Text

Fetch (Shifter! Tf141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 4 of Good Doggy

Masterlist

Tw - Drunk Assholes (inspired by real stories from me :)), Slight blood warning, Language (its a COD fanfic??), OKAY SO LIKE I GUESS SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE STUFF?? I WANTED TO MAKE IT LONGER. A SMALL SCENE OF NSFW BUT NOTHING TOO DEEP BUT STILL PUTTING A WARNING, ITS IN BETWEEN THE NSFW GRAPHICS. Gaz has a praise kink.

Beta Reader/Editor - @letmelickyoureyeballs

Updated: 3/5/2024

The bar is filled. It’s a Friday night, of course it is but you hate it. You don’t like dealing with assholes. Not after the conversation with Maya.

“I cannot serve you anymore. If you don’t decide to leave I will call the cops.” The man in front of you shouts profanity after profanity, angered by the law. Humans were stupid that way. “Here’s a water.” You slam it down, annoyed.

Idiots. Drunken idiots.

Yeah by Usher starts playing. The club you worked at was loud, you have ear plugs in just so you wouldn’t be overstimulated by everything, but you could still hear enough.

“Why do you have a mask on?” He's irritated already which means that this conversation will not end well. You usually strive to give your coworkers the assholes, not caring that he'll have to deal with it.

"It's to stay safe, I don't want to get sick-"

The man cuts you off and you debate on spitting in his drink, "That's not gonna keep you safe, the only way to stay safe is to build your immune system." He keeps yelling, and some spit leaves his mouth. You place down the menu in front of him as he keeps yelling, "That's the only way to stay safe, not a stupid mask!"

You walk away, going to your coworker and telling him to get his order cause if you do you'll be fired. You instead went over to the list of music that was going to play and put on a favorite song of yours, not caring for some disgruntled noise from other patrons as you bobbed your head to the beat, distracting yourself from the day you had.

"Ye lik' this song mo gaol?" It's the familiar accent and the way the hairs on your arms stand makes you more irritated. It was roughly 1 a.m. and most people would be tired. You'd reckon it would start slowly down in 20 minutes, which meant you could get some work done.

You turned to face Soap.

"I'd hope so, I chose it." You tell him as you get closer to him. "You still stalking me?"

"Ah'ahmnot a stalker, juist wanted a drink." He smiles boyishly, as if he wasn't Sergeant John ``Soap" MacTavish with more confirmed kills than unconfirmed.

"At the bar I work at?"

"Juist a coincidence"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't lie to me." You told him while you mixed a drink. "You obviously have something for me."

"A'm in loue wi' ye"

"Not possible." You tell him, interrupting his "confession". You set the drink down in front of him. "$13" You tell him the price.

"I didnae orda a drink?" He looked cheeky, and you wished some part of you didn't find him attractive. But he looks up at you and you can't help but imagine other scenarios, particularly some where you're both naked.

"Well you can either pay for the drink and drink it, or pay for the drink and I'll drink it and talk with you some more." Soap immediately puts down two 20s.

"Th' rest can go to mah bartender." You slip the extra cash into your pocket, going to your POS system and breaking out for your thirty minute break that was required. You grabbed the drink on the counter and left your work area, Soap following behind like a puppy. You found a booth in the corner most people avoided. Sitting down at what could fit five others at most. Your mind goes back to Maya, who’s probably taking care of Icarus, your dog, and Marigold, her familiar. Maya worked as well, but it was an in-house job where she dealt with customers in need of assistance.

"You hurt our feelin`s earlier," He says first as you take a sip of the drink you made. "Hae we dane something tae offend ye?"

"Don't want to get your hopes up." You tell him, "I'm not one for soulmates."

"So ye know?"

"Of course I do. You reek of wolf." He starts to sniff himself and you want to laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "You wouldn't be able to smell it. And it's not a bad smell, just obnoxious cause there's four of you."

"So ye aren't human."

"Nope, never was."

"What are ye?" You never felt shame in what you were. Didn't feel shame in general, it took Maya for you to start walking around in clothes.

But you didn't want to tell him.

"None of your business."

Gaz knows that Price is going to talk about the bloodshed in the morning. He knows that Price already knows but doesn't care to stop it tonight. Price is just too drunk, Ghost doesn’t care, and Soap is who knows where. It wasn’t like he killed humans tonight, just some animals that were definitely going to get the town's attention (He might’ve killed a bear) but not the hunters.

He's decorated in blood and he loves it. It soothes some messed-up part of him. His teeth still have specks of flesh in it, that he licks clean

He smells you. Heavenly you. You who smells like some plant burning. He didn't understand it, but he loved it.

You're next to Soap, and Soap has the biggest grin as you walk together.

Though you probably don't see it as together. You probably see it as him stalking you, but you don't seem to have your usual air of distaste. You have sunglasses on, something he hates cause he can't stare at them. Your mask is black, and you also have a hood on. You look perfect, he just wishes you were in his bedroom.

Preferably naked and-

Nope.

He kind of hates it at the same time though. Soap getting so close to you, still determined to find a way to be with you. Soap didn't lose hope, not like Gaz did. But he'd be damned if he didn't do something. He lets out a growl, standing menacingly as he runs forward, towards both of you, knocking Soap down as he growls at him, his teeth snapping. If Gaz doesn't get to be happy, Soap shouldn't either.

He just wasn't expecting your reaction.

"Get off him." He followed your command, staring up at you and following your eyes when you bent down to be eye level with him. "God you are so..."

"Cute." Your voice gets higher as you gently rub behind his ears, the blood not bothering you at all. Gaz almost forgets how you looked at him earlier, your words that cut him melted away and he just thinks he has a chance.

You loved dogs, who wouldn't? Even if that dog was actually a grown (hot) man.

"Look who's such a pretty boy." You kept rubbing his head as Soap just stared in shock. "Such a handsome boy, who did you eat?" You coo at Gaz, who leans into your touch and praise, enjoying everything about this moment. Gaz has to take a moment to remember himself, that the praise you give him is nothing.

But he can't help but imagine scenarios in a different setting.

NSFW Start

It's such a simple setting. In his room, the lights are low. He's flushed, shirtless and on the floor, while you sit above him.

"Can't you be a good boy for me?" You lick your lip before biting it, you stare at him, your eyes actually showing, looking at him with lust and love. A perfect combination, and your lips, god, you were perfect for him. "Come on, you know you want to." You lower your shorts and Gaz gulps, he stares at your cock, mesmerized.

"You're hungry for it, aren't you whore?"

NSFW End

"Arr ye fecken' kidding me?" Soap says, breaking the peaceful moment, and Gaz's daydream. "A' it took wis a wolf fur ye to lik' us?"

"I still don't like you all, but dogs are always a great company." You keep petting him, Gaz's eyes closing slightly, and Soap sits up.

"Ah can do that toh." His accent gets thicker as he rushes to grab your hand, forcing it away from Gaz and instead putting it in his hair. Which was mostly shaved on the sides.

"You aren't a cute puppy right now." You yank your hand away.

"He's fooken' bloody!"

Gaz licks your face, and you slightly smile.

----

Listen, hating people is one thing but I could never hate a dog, let alone a wolf. Reader still doesn't feel comfortable around the boys, but he does like the dogs.

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ultimate-chickennougat · 7 months

Text

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 1)

Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader;

Nanami puts on an apron to help his cute little housewife prepare dinner.

Word Count: 1k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!reader, newly married Nanami and Y/n,

A/n: First time writing for Kento... thanks for reading!

Your dear husband Kento Nanami was not one to come home late. Ever.

Even though it had only been about two months since your marriage, the daily routine had already been set, and you couldn't imagine that happening in a decade, let alone on the next day.

Of course that wouldn't be true in his past profession, as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but he was back being a salaryman, never going to extra meetings or taking on any more jobs than his work contract required him to. Hence he rushed home, avoiding that dreaded overtime that the younger company members fought for. Even then it took a lot out of him.

Mr. Kento Nanami was a diligent worker from 9 o'clock in the morning to 5 o'clock in the afternoon. A senior manager at an investment company, his pure skill and dedication was the only way he could get that position. He never tried to do anything more than what he had to, which was providing customers with the best investment services he could. And you, the new Mrs. Nanami was his lovely housewife, always there to greet him when he got home. It was always the most comforting thought he had, while listening to the executives drone on about profits, and training the newcomers eager to reap those rewards as well. But then again, that is why he was in that business too, right?

As per usual, he quickly packed up his things and headed to the elevator right after the hour hand hit 5 on his watch. Ideally he would be home in the next thirty minutes, far more eager than his other coworkers. A promotion was not awaiting him since his marriage, but that wasn’t a concern. He had enough saved up for an early retirement anyway, and, more importantly, one would take away from his precious time with you.

While his heart beat was steady, walking to the train station as he did everyday, yours was much more rampant.

Rushing around the kitchen, you hurriedly washed and cut vegetables, meat, and ground spices as fast as you could. Dinner was expected to be served at about 6:00 pm that night, and afterward would be a relaxing evening with your husband, who would be done for the week. While the daily routine was solidified, the speed of your cooking was not. Especially when your carefully laid out schedule of repotting the plants, cleaning the bathrooms, and doing laundry took a bit too long for each one. It was already 5:15, and you had just popped the tarts into the oven.

Today's dinner consisted of a thick stew, crusty white bread, and miniature fruit tarts for dessert. With some preparations the day before, it was a plan that should have taken about two hours, most of which would be idle cooking time. That of course, did not happen.

Your usual greeting of your husband at the door was foiled for the first time. He opened the door promptly at 5:33 PM, about the same time as every day, yet for once you weren't there.

Setting his briefcase down and removing his jacket, he walked through the living room into the kitchen, hearing your not-so-subtle whines of frustration, the scent of sweet fruit and grilled meat filling the air.

Married life is full of firsts, many of which were known to you and Nanami alike. Your first kiss being married, your first date being married, among other things. But what he didn't expect to focus on were the little ones he saw everyday. The first time you screwed up your daily routine, of course, and the first time he got to see you cooking his dinner in your cute little apron.

You quickly turned around hearing Nanami enter the kitchen. "Kento..!" you muttered, knife in hand chopping vegetables with great fervor. He chuckled softly, your knuckles had turned white from the grip, and carrots rolled off the cutting board.

He strolled over to the cabinet, pulling out a simple white apron, not before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek from behind you. "I see you've been quite busy today, my love," he put the apron over his head and tied it in the back, before turning towards your work.

His knees dug into your thighs, as he reached around your body and grabbed the knife from your hand. "How about I finish this for you?" he asked, already starting to chop away. "Aren't you tired from work? You can go sit down, darling," you tried to move away from him, though he gripped your stomach lightly with his other arm, pausing his work. "It's not tiring at all, standing here with you, my cute wife."

He put his head on top of yours, enjoying your warmth and the scent of food cooking, what you've been toiling away with for the past few hours. “I might not be as good of a cook as you, my love, but I think my knife skills are decent enough.” He continued, making quick work of the pile of vegetables. "Darling, the tarts are burning," you gently pushed him away, rushing over to the oven and pulling them out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I'll make sure to be there tomorrow." you spoke softly, lifting the tarts onto the cooling rack. "I was wondering where my wife's face was. I see you've had quite the predicament in here," Nanami scraped all the vegetables in the pot, and covered it with water as instructed. It would still be about half an hour until done, being finished only 15 minutes late thanks to his help.

Nanami stared deeply as you joined him in the living room. Your fingers carefully undid the tie of your apron, as you started to take it off. "Have I ever told you how good you look in that?" He mentioned, standing up off the couch. You yelped, as he helped to pull it off your head. "...Thank you, darling. You look very dashing in one as well." You muttered, a subtle blush coating your cheeks.

"I look forward to seeing you wear it tomorrow, my love." He chuckled as he sat down at the dining table, ready for the dinner you prepared together.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami #jjk x reader

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noctivagant-corvid · 2 months

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part 2 of my prime defenders dash simulator (pt 1, pt 3, pt 4)

🪼mackleless Follow i make a post asking for tide x wavelength rpf fics. the post semi blows up. tidalwave(WE HAVE A SHIP NAME????) now has 300 fics. guys.

🪼mackleless Follow not complaining though. you guys are making the old guys fuck nasty and cry, and i’m here for it

5,231 notes

🤺tearfulatthefalling Follow my college is haunted by a emo kid

🍋 forscoreandsixyearsago Follow TEARS????? ELABORATE?????

🤺tearfulatthefalling Follow ALRIGHT GATHER ROUND LITTLE CHILDREN LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE EMO BOY WHO HAUNTS MY CAMPUS. around a year ago, people started seeing a pale boy with a strip of white hair and blue raccoon tails, along with little blue fires floating around him. he would appear, stare at the person who saw him, then disappear, along with his little fires. he wears a black hoodie with some weird text and sweatpants. he is almost always in the freshman boy’s dorm- except for twice people saw him in the library. he hasnt done anything but theres a tall kid with purple hair whos name i dont know who wore his sweatshirt once, so he might be fucking a ghost.

🍋forscoreandsixyearsago Follow tears what the fuck

👾bonemarroni Follow reblog if you are a kid with purple hair who might be fucking a ghost

12,374 notes

🪐plutoisaplanetish Follow some days you are the hero putting a giant sword through a space meatball. other days you are the space meatball getting a giant sword put through you.

🪐plutoisaplanetish Follow stop making this post about sex

287 notes

🪷locustlotus Follow shout out to lightspeed, the patron saint of lesbians. a roller derby queen.

🌜crescentshendo Follow [[ ALT TEXT: An image of superhero Lightspeed from two years ago, posing with a college roller derby team after a match. She's very sweaty. End id. ]] here's an image for all the women likers :3

🌜crescentshendo Follow [[ ALT TEXT: A screenshot of various tags left under the previous post, reading "#HOFOSGOS. #HOLY SHIT." , "#wwomen heart eyes" , "#i am. a lesbian!!!!!!" , and "#LORD IN HEAVEN FORGIVE ME FOR MY THOUGHTS." . End id. ]] glad we're all on the same page

8,674 notes

👁‍🗨darlingsos Follow DCs hair is red bc red has more positive associations than negative ones

🍭sweetlikevinegar Follow LET THE JOKE DIEEEE

👁‍🗨darlingsos Follow NEVERRRR

23 notes

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow do you guys think the heroes know they have fanfic

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow does bacon man sit down at home and decide to look through his ao3 tag (which has. 25k works.)

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow AND SOME OF THEM HAVE CHILDREN,,,, imagine you log on to ao3 and your dad is trending with either x readers or fucking his coworkers. horrifying.

🧿untimelyprophetess Follow [[ ALT TEXT: A screenshot reading "ASHES2ASHES liked your post: do you guys think th..". End id. ]] ASHES TWO ASHES ??????????

765 notes

🧶handsupplayingmysong Follow there's two kids on the train next to me and they're both wearing those big, over the ear Autism headphones and clearly overstimulated. theyre also holding hands. a great day for the gay community

17 notes

☄tapedtogetherhope Follow one of my friends grew up in deadwood and they will just say. the most concerning shit. at any given time.

☄tapedtogetherhope Follow examples of this: 1. "you know, the part in the forest where all the blood is." 2. "everyone's got the old man on the outskirts of town who might eat people." 3. "if you see a rabbit with too many eyes you just keep walking! same goes for a wall leaking black liquid." 4. "sometimes people just disappear. usually one every year. the highway is hungry. or maybe it's the forest." 5. "sometimes if you walk near the cliffs at night you feel like something's leading you to the edge." also how to skin and gut a deer but im not putting that here

🦌letheliketheriver Follow i think youre actually the weird one hope. this is all very normal

☄tapedtogetherhope Follow I GUARANTEE YOU IT IS NOT.

21,079 notes

#nocspeaks #jrwi #jrwi prime defenders #fake dashboard #fake post #fake social media #jrwi pd #jrwi tidalwave #william wisp #dakota cole #vyncent sol #deadwood #ashe winters #jrwi lightspeed

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onelittlespiral · 4 months

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Hey, it's been pretty hard to motivate myself to write lately with my new job, so I want to reward someone who's doing a great job getting his work done lately. I want to give idesofrevolution a nice musky dudebro transformation he'll really love, and hopefully the mystery transformation gives me some more free time to be horny and creative.

Subject: Order #100690

Dear Fred,

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #100690 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Bro(Musk)_From_Friend(Online; Blog)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Please note that due to the subject’s history with transformations, delivery methods may be delayed or gradual. Expect fulfillment in 2-3 weeks.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

You couldn’t wait to hear back from The Spiral, checking your inbox every couple of hours for any updates on delivery. Training was slow and boring at the new office, so there wasn’t much to do besides sit through the standard HR videos on one monitor and scroll social media on the other. That was when you received an email notification. You opened it up, and excitement turns to disappointment. Just another boring diversity video. You pop it up on the side, plug in your headphones, and wait for the stock music and graphics to start. Except, this one is different. You are watching from a first person perspective as a man walks into a room and lies down on a couch. The camera captures his enormous pecs, hiding the rest of his torso, as they flex a little. You glance around the office, nervous about who may be watching. Something must be wrong, this can’t be your afternoon assignment. But your eyes are drawn back to the screen when the door opens again and another beautiful man graces the screen. Your eyes fix on his, as he leans into the camera for a kiss. You can almost feel his heat through the screen, and you’re soon relaxed in your chair, watching the show.

As he slowly grinds against you, you subconsciously begin to rub at your own crotch, simulating his movements. You begin to feel a horny fog fill your mind as you begin to buy into the fantasy, beginning to ignore your surroundings and forget about your coworkers. It isn’t long before your dick is fully out, imaging how good it feels to have his soft hands rubbing your hardening member. You don’t even notice how much you are beginning to leak pre-cum, synchronized with when he places his delicate lips on your cock and takes the whole member in one motion. You lean back in your chair and let the waves of pleasure relax your muscles. You begin to feel so heavy, as your arms grow tired of stroking. You place them behind your head, letting this experience overtake you as you continue to have your cock expertly worked by a pro. You begin to match his tempo, thrusting in time. Your grunts are getting deeper as you begin to get close. Your partner feels it coming, and steadies his tempo. He doesn’t want you to come too soon. But the fog in your brain is only intensify, leaving you more aroused by the moment. You aren’t able to hold it in much longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum in you, and you better not miss a drop,” you say, and his eyes show understanding. You reach out and tug at his hair, taking control of the tempo as his eyes begin to water. But he doesn’t have to worry for too long. You are soon dumping your load in his stomach, and he cums hands free in turn, as the director gets the money shot.

“CUT! That’s a wrap.”

Your partner gets up and wipes himself down. You just grab your shorts and sit back down on the couch.

It’s going to be a long day of shooting, but you love it. At least here you get to be horny and own it. And, more importantly, get paid. Could be worse. You could be stuck at some stuffy office job. Just then your phone buzzes with a notification. One of your friends just posted, let’s see… oh, @idesofrevolution. Good thing too, you had been worried about Frost. Annnnd a second notification from your management company, The Spiral. They were sending you some confirmation info… something about the Doctor himself coincidentally enough. Seemed to be some details about a movie scene or something meant for him, so probably some mix up. Let’s see what it says…

Dr. Frost was has some background knowledge on our methods from years of research into his own transformation methods. Consequently we took a more gradual approach. Slowly, we began introducing neural waves throughout his day to prime him. In his home, in his car, on his blog, we implemented subtle messages about growth. About muscle. About musk. After all, who needs to waste so much time showering every day? When his deodorant sticks keep going missing, what was the point in buying more? After all, he no longer had much time to go to the store, as he logged off from work and drove straight to the gym every day. At first he wondered why he was suddenly so worried about his health. But as we continued to amplify our waves, he soon stopped worrying. It was natural to want to be strong. It was natural to reek. It was natural to feel good, bro. I’m in control.

As his musk intensifies, he is only conditioning himself to become more and more self indulgent. We began alternating frequencies, sending his testosterone through the roof, driving a new crop of hair growth and keeping his balls plenty full. Between his pit stench and constant gym pump, he is keeping himself at a near constant leak of pre-cum, and quickly soiling any attempt at covering himself up. Not that he cares. He hasn’t showered in a few weeks, only allowing himself tongue baths from whatever gym bro he catches staring and manages to get into his truck for a make out sesh. His memories are evaporated, nothing more than a sweat stain on his favorite cap. His brain is so high on his own supply, our neural waves had to be amplified to get through his brain fog. Hell, he can hardly form a proper sentence, bro. We have taken the liberty of updating his blog to more accurately reflect his new interests. His stories have been replaced with his thirst traps and progress photos. We are satisfied with his progress and have left him to continue his journey of his own, new and improved, free will.

You should really reach out to him sometime. See if he wants to take his modeling career in a new, more exciting direction. Could be fun to suck that musky cock…

Subject: Order #100690 Fulfilled

Dear Fred,

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

#musk #male transformation #transformation #hypnosis #bro #jock #reality change #jockification #bogo #technology tf #male tf

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spookykoolkat · 1 year

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introducing...

🩸♰ 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ♰🩸

hello! welcome to my very first kinktober EVER! i will be writing for various people during this season, and have a few already done! currently this list consists of writing for three people — jim hopper, joel miller, eddie munson.

♱ these shorts can run from 500 - 10K words so be aware! i will put the word count with every post :) ♱

♱ these may also be posted late, or twice in a day depending if i can't keep up with my schedule :p sorry in advance! ♱

all dates that say TBA are up for request for any person of your choosing *preferably ones i write for* ^^

send in your request with the date you want, and you can be as detailed or as vague as you want. remember!!!* all my writing is written for plus sized women! so if you're bothered by that then i am very sorry but never in my life have i seen an all plus sized kinktober! so i will be here to represent for my girls 🖤🩷 i don't use many descriptions other than describing the character as fat, so my writing is SPECIFICALLY for fat black and brown women, women of color, and fat women in general 🩷

most of these fics are centered around halloween time, or just the season of fall! very few are just regular spicy stories :p

reblogs, comments and likes are very appreciated 🖤

but without further ado, here we go!

【 oct 1. exhibitionism 】

▹ joel miller is a stranger who fucks you on a nude beach.

【 oct 2. facefucking/choking 】

▹ eddie munson is your toxic on and off 'boyfriend'.

【 oct 3. dumbification 】

▹ joel miller is your grumpy old neighbor.

【 oct 4. taped 】

▹ eddie munson likes to record you during sex.

【 oct 5. caught 】

▹ joel miller is your dad's coworker, and tommy miller is his brother.

【 oct 6. glory hole 】

▹ eddie munson goes to a brothel for the very first time.

【 oct 7. sex work 】

▹ jim hopper gets bored and finds a cam girl site.

【 oct 8. size kink 】

▹ eddie munson is your skinny, lanky boyfriend.

【 oct 9. cockwarming 】

▹ joel miller just loves to be buried inside of you 24/7.

【 oct 10. phone sex 】

▹ eddie munson can't help himself when he gets on the phone to talk to his best friend at night.

【 oct 11. breeding 】

▹ joel miller aches to see you swollen and round with his baby.

【 oct 12. somnophilia 】

▹ eddie munson uses you while you sleep in his bed.

【 oct 13. orgy 】

▹ joel miller gets an invite to a sex party, only to find you and keep you to himself.

【 oct 14. high sex 】

▹ eddie munson gets you high for the first time.

【 oct 15. mutual masturbation 】

▹ joel miller finds a loop hole in his efforts of not ruining you.

【 oct 16. sexting 】

▹ jim hopper spends a late night at the precinct when his phone starts buzzing away.

【 oct 17. objectification 】

▹ joel miller loves to turn you into his personal sex doll.

【 oct 18. switch 】

▹ eddie munson lets you, a stranger, dom him.

【 oct 19. praise kink 】

▹ eddie munson finds that his new girlfriend loves to be good for him.

【 oct 20. edging 】

▹ joel miller loves to make you work for it.

【 oct 21. corruption 】

▹ eddie munson has always been a bad influence for you.

【 oct 22. thigh riding 】

▹ joel miller like to watch you ride his thigh.

【 oct 23. virgin 】

▹ eddie munson takes your pretty little flower.

【 oct 24. dacrysphilia 】

▹ joel miller loves to make you cry while he's inside of you.

【 oct 25. titty fucking 】

▹ jim hopper loves your double Ds a little too much.

【 oct 26. stigmatophilia 】

▹ eddie munson can't help but get hard every time he looks at your pierced body.

【 oct 27. obsession 】

▹ joel miller refuses to lose you, no matter what it takes.

【 oct 28. anal 】

▹ jim hopper has an insatiable urge to stretch out both holes.

【 oct 29. quirofilia 】

▹ eddie munson's hands never fail to get you embarrassingly wet.

【 oct 30. touch starved 】

▹ joel miller hasn't met anyone as needy as you.

【 halloween: surprise 】

▹ i shake shit up and write something i've never written b4 lol

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ghostybaby000 · 4 months

Text

After Hours | Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: Working has already made you feel exhausted, not to mention an awful manager making it far worse. You find yourself wanting to quit, that is until a tall masked figure gives you a reason to stay.

Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: 18+, violent theme, guns, yelling, future smut

(Not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

It was that time again, 7am. You grab your keys and purse, a coffee and a muffin to go making your way out of your home you head to work. You take the same route as always being sure to say hello to the other workers when you pull into the lot. You gather your items and head inside to the same front desk and chair waiting for you, that had been there the past 2 years without fail. You get yourself situated setting up your notepad for any callers and sip on your coffee relaxing into the chair.

You sit up to look more professional watching as two larger men walk in the door holding guns.

‘What can I do for you this morning?’ You smile to them, as they had been frequent customers at this smaller gun range for quite some time. They come over to you, pleased as always to see a smiling face, they were still in their uniforms. The gun range was quite close to a military base, making military personal a regular.

‘Good morning Y/N, the regular please.’ You give them a small nod as you check them out and hand them a golfcart key to get around the facility. They gave thanks and make their way outside, being sure to wave goodbye as they rounded the corner. You had worked here for quite some time, as your father had known many people that came to the range- they reached out needing help and you seemed fit. You went into the interview knowing that you didn’t have much knowledge on weapons or guns hoping they would give you a side job. The manager decided that would be best, and let you work up front with your ‘pretty face’ to attract customers. A small part of you took offense but you let it go, because you were excited to be working somewhere close to home and where you knew a few people.

Working up front you didn’t have to handle any weapons or fix any issues with them either, you simply had to check people out and give them ammunition which you didn’t mind. You began to recognize others and slowly made yourself a good fit in their community, people reaching out with Christmas cards or asking about your wellbeing. One person had never done such a thing, and that was one of the men from the military. He didn’t have a name on his chest and always remained ominously quiet and vigilante, something you noticed quickly. He always came in with 2 or 3 other members in the group but had never showed alone which only making you more curious of him. Today he hadn’t shown, nor had the typical group of other tall strong men.

You continued to check people out until the day had reached its end, and you were plenty tired ready to get some sleep. You made your way back to your car, packed up your belongings and headed back to your home. You got in the door and settled down making dinner and watching a show before getting to bed. You wake again to the small alarm clock on your bedside table, reaching over to gently turn it off, another day had started. You typically woke at 7 everyday as it made getting up for work easier, you started to make some breakfast and put on coffee, taking in some time to relax. A little later into the afternoon you received a text from a coworker asking if you could cover their shift as she was feeling unwell. You groan out as you fall back against the couch cushions, this was your day off and you just wanted to stay at home and relax. You knew though that they were understaffed and needed help whenever they could get it and that you wouldn’t say no. You gathered your things and headed back to the range, and thought to yourself that at least you got to make a good breakfast.

On the drive over it dawns on you that you could be doing more from your job, not just working the front desk. You hadn’t ever been offered a promotion by the snobby manager and was quickly shut down the last time you mentioned it to them. You tried to not hold any sort of grudge against people, yet the way the manager spoke to you and the other workers made you feel as if you would quit on the spot after your interactions, although you never had. You stayed because the other workers needed your help, and you needed the income not to mention getting to see people that were close enough to be considered friends. You shook the thoughts from your head as you pulled onto the gravel pathway and parked. Getting inside and settled in a few minutes, you gaze around the shop and found it to be quiet and calm as the mornings tended to be.

You help customers as the day progresses, making small chit chat being sure to welcome everyone who comes in. The range wasn’t too busy today, only a few people every hour which you enjoyed as it gave you some time to clean the monitors you used and sweep the floor around you.

You were sweeping up the last pile when you heard your manager begin yelling at someone from the office, with a slam of the door just down the hall. You groaned as you quickly picked up the small dirt pile you had accumulated and put it in the bin, moving to your work station swiftly. The manager now almost screaming at points of his argument, your palms begin to get sweaty and everything in you hopes that a customer doesn’t come in. You stand there nervously as people pass by the front door, you look away in hopes they won’t feel the need to come and say hello.

SLAM the phone had been hung up, making you wince as it did. You tried to act normally and as if you didn’t hear anything when you heard his office door open. You didn’t dare to ask him what it was about knowing that it would only blow up in your face, so you decide to start typing away at the computer. His boots came thudding down the small hallway as you tried to take deep breaths, telling yourself to not look his way. He stops right next to you, still huffing from yelling on the phone.

‘Where’s Catherine?’ He glares at you when you stop typing and start to look over at him, he was sweating from yelling and quite red too.

‘Well.. she texted me saying-‘

‘I didn’t ask what she texted you- where is she?’ His tone grew more firm as he leaned in closer to you.

‘She said she wasn’t feeling well so I came in to cover for her shift…’ You now had your hands placed on your lap looking between him and down to the floor, afraid of the man that stood in front of you and how he would react.

‘well that’s just GREAT.’ He slams his hands on the counter and begins to pace the small area in front of the desk, then moving them to cover his face.

‘She should have contacted me. Not you, ME then I could have told her that someone would cover for her- and it wouldn’t of been you.’ He looks at you when he stops pacing. You furrow your brows and look back to the floor.

‘See, you’re going into overtime now- you’re meant to only be part time which means I have to pay more!’ His voice was now booming through the small building while you sat quietly looking down to your hands in your lap or the desk, anything that wasn’t able to yell back at you.

‘You know what, don’t come in next week. I-I cant afford it now thanks to Catherine.’ You look up now, you couldn’t miss work for a week, you had mortgage due soon and electric bills to pay and you had to buy groceries-

‘I cant miss work that long I have mortgage due this next week…could I come in for just a few hours?’ You regretted saying the words as they left your lips, watching as a smile grew over his face as he walked towards you. Your own eyes began to feel hot and watery but you wouldn’t let yourself cry.

‘You can’t pay bills? No, I can’t pay bills! Not with people like you going overtime behind my back-you…you can afford to miss work your job isn’t essential around here! I can manage to ring people out for a while and eat a muffin at the same time- You can’t even use a gun properly and you think your fit to work here!?-‘ His tangent quickly cut off making the room feel a whole lot more quiet. The tears welting in your eyes that he couldn’t see had dropped to your pants. The door had opened and the same group of 3 had walked into the building wearing their uniforms, they must have checked in earlier this morning before you’d arrived. He immediately backs away from the counter to simply tapping his thumbs on the desk attempting to act casually. He was even more red now not that the customers could see, as he stared you down.

‘Alright. You lock up, I’m going home.’ He turns to face the customers now. ‘And you gentlemen, we are closing soon but please just ask Y/N for anything you need, have a good night.’ He walks back the office where the door now gently closed as you heard him gathering his things preparing to leave.

You were sure they had heard the manager through the door, there’s no way they hadn’t. Yet if they had heard, they were acting as if it was the same as any other day- except the one with the mask. He was looking at you for quite some time across the room before the group came up to the desk.

#books #call of duty fanart #cod fanfic #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #Ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #cod #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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ghostlywhiskey · 1 year

Text

John Price - Hell on Earth - Part 1

Pairing: Lawyer!John Price x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,427 Warnings: None Summary: Your a paralegal at a law firm and John Price is a top attorney - but makes everyone's life a living hell. And it only gets worse when he decides to make you his primary paralegal. Notes: Going based of this prompt/blurb I wrote. There will 100% be more parts - you think I'm gonna have lawyer!price and not have smut at some point? Absolutely not. Also let the record show, I did not proofread teehee<3 ▸read part two here ▸find my masterlist here

The phone sat snug between your ear and shoulder as the contents of your bag were shifted around with one hand, the other holding a coffee. Where is the damn keycard? Your thoughts block out whatever Morgan was saying on the other end of the phone. As you push through the revolving door, the keycard finds a spot between your fingers as you say good morning to the guard and head for the elevator.

“Morgan.” The name coming out of you is rather monotone as you try to grab your friend's attention from her ongoing rant. “Morgan, take a breath would you?” Eyes looking at the lights above the elevators to make note of which one you would be getting into.

“I can’t take a breath! Who goes on five dates with someone and just poof! Hey, I don’t want a relationship?” her voice belted through the phone loud enough that you would think your phone had the speaker option selected. The sudden exclamation in her voice causes you to pull the phone from your ear, eyes glancing to see multiple emails come in from Price about various different cases that had been transferred to you in the past three weeks.

“Son of a bitch.” you mutter as you stand in the elevator, scrolling through twenty new emails, all delivered at 8AM. He fucking prepared them to be auto-sent. Is he fucking kidding?

“Hey, are you there?” Morgan’s voice echoes through the phone, quickly putting it to your ear.

“Sorry, work is already chaotic. Can I call you later? Or maybe drinks after work?” voice apologetic, but your anxiety is already focusing on what needs to get done for the day.

As you push through the doors of the firm, ‘good mornings’ are thrown around from your coworkers as you make your way to your cubicle. The door to his office is wide open, the lack of yelling and aggressive taps on the keyboard nowhere to be heard - He isn’t in yet, thank fuck.

Your bag drops onto the desk along with your coffee next to it, body dropping into the chair as you stare at the black screen. Eight hours to go. Hand grasping the mouse, you give it a shake as the dual monitors come to life and type your login quickly. The inbox rapidly catches up to what your phone already knows - 127 messages. Twenty of them are Price’s alone from this morning.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: K. Laswell - Deposition of Our Client

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

What is the status of getting the deposition set up? Why is no one agreeing? Call them and get answers. Tired of the emails flooding my inbox.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: S. Riley - Motion to Compel Discovery

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

Prepare the exhibits for A to H. They are in the file under the exhibits folder for the motion. Want it filed today - discovery has been outstanding for over a year. No more good faith letters.

I want to see the final version before it is filed.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: J. McTavish - Search Case Law

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

I don’t have time to look into this today - find me relevant cases that can be applied to the file. Preferably by tomorrow morning, get as specific as you can. Opposition is due 3 weeks from now and I’d rather not be stressing about it when it is due the week before the motion. Any questions, ask Mary. Thanks.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: K. Garrick - CASE DISMISSED

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning Patrick,

No need to apologize, I hope the family is well. Glad we were able to resolve this.

Looping my paralegal in. She will provide you the document signed on behalf of me and have it to you by the end of the day.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

“I hope the family is well.” the mumble from your lips is a mocking one, as if that prick ever wishes anyone well. God forbid he ever wrote thank you instead while signing off on an email. The few emails are just the start of the tasks for the day. Happy Monday.

One more email catches your eye before you go to start from the bottom of where you left off the other day answering people. One email not sent exactly at 8 AM.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:02 AM

Subject: Meeting about cases

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Morning,

When I’m in the office later we need to discuss more cases you are getting reassigned to. Let me know when you are free today. I’ll be in around 12 after court.

John

Get Outlook for IOS

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

And by the time the clock hits 12, you’ve barely made it through half of the emails. Completely zoning out as you chew on a pen cap, you scroll through the case law your searching for one of Price’s tasks - saving various memorandums into the file and your own notes on a word document. The sound of your desktop messenger goes off, the paralegal chat receiving a message from the firm secretary: Price is in.

Another paralegal, Ava, quickly sent a reply: Prayers up. Headphones in before the yelling in his office starts.

Fingers quickly typing your own response, you send yours: Fingers crossed today’s the day I can get fired and just collect unemployment instead.

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, closing the chat before Price would make his way to his office by your desk. Better off he didn’t see the alerts of his presence or everyones personal feelings about him. The sound of his shoes clicking against the floor caused your head to peek over your desktop setup, his phone already held up to his ear as he angrily spoke on the phone.

“Well, the judge doesn’t know his fucking ass from his elbow.” his eyes glanced over at you as he walked by, his hand holding up five fingers as he mouthed ‘five minutes’ to you.

So, you didn’t do anything for the next five minutes besides watch the clock on your computer. By the time four minutes hit, you stood up from the desk and stood outside his closed door. And right as five minutes hit, the door swung open and his breath caught in his throat as he was prepared to shout your name but saw you standing right there.

“Glad to see you can count.” he opted to say instead, turning to walk back towards his desk. “Door shut.” You nodded at his demand, closing the door and walking to stand at the front of his desk.

“Is the Laswell deposition set up?” he asked.

“Calendered for January 18th.”

“Exhibits on Riley…finished?” Another question as he scrolled through his emails.

“Prepared for your review.” The response leaving your lips quickly. “Document signed on Garrick. Still working on the case law for McTavish. And anything else you emailed me about.” You decided to finish off responses to any more questions he might have. He glanced up from his laptop, nodding.

“So, that leaves us with case reassignments.” Price stated and you simply nodded to acknowledge his comment. “Any file that Kelsey had with me is getting reassigned to you.” You knew Kelsey, she was a capable paralegal, she was Price’s go-to paralegal. Well, heavy emphasis on the ‘was’. She had quit the other week. Rumors spread, but the consensus seemed to be that Price might have driven her to a mental break.

Your brain did the math quickly - that would leave you hitting around over 250 files altogether. And before you could voice your concern, Price spoke again. “You’ll become my primary paralegal. Any case you have with another attorney is going to get reassigned to someone else.” Slight relief washed over you. At least that knocked your case load down a bit, but that still left you under Price’s reign of terror. Reporting to him about everything.

How soon am I gonna have a mental break? Your brain echoed, but again, you just nodded in response to what he just said. “Have you lost your voice?” He raised a brow. Quickly you shook your head ‘no’.

“No, sir. Understood. I’ll draft memos on any file I have getting transferred to someone else so they know the status.” You spoke, looking down at him as he sat at his desk.

“Good, get back to work.” was all he said, nodding towards his door. And with that, you hurriedly exited his office before he could mention anything else.

Once you sat down at your desk, you opened the paralegal chat.

Guess who is the new Kelsey :))

The hours this day seemed to drag. And for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes glanced at the clock.

7:03 PM.

You let out a frustrated sigh, keeping it quiet. Anything you wanted to actually get done today for the most part didn’t, as you were handling forest fire after forest fire that Price would email about. But at this rate, you felt defeated. Not even a full 24 hours as his designated paralegal and you were one step away from a mental break of your own.

Price was long gone from the office. Every other paralegal was also gone at this rate, vanishing at 5 PM on the dot. The only other presence was the office cleaning lady who came in everyday. She came over to your desk, smiling at you as a greeting before she grabbed your trash can to dump the contents into her larger bin she pushed around. “Isn’t it late, love?” her voice soft and you smiled sadly at her.

“I guess it is.” you said, glancing back at your screen. The lady glanced at your computer screen and then her eyes went to Price’s door, reading his name on the door. And it was like something clicked.

“Oh, does Mr. Price, have you staying late?” she asked, voice laced with pity it sounded like. How did she know? And it was like she read your mind. “That blonde girl….hm, Kelsey!” she exclaimed as she remembered the name. “She was always staying later for that man.” The older lady spoke and you huffed.

“Yeah, Mr. Price.” you mumbled, reaching over to shut your laptop off. There was no way you were doing anything else tonight - besides burying yourself under your bed covers.

“Well, have a good night.” The lady said, walking away as she continued to empty trash cans throughout the office.

And by the time you were home, it felt like a chore to put yourself in the shower. But the water hitting your back acts as a cleanser of any stress of the day. Why was he such a prick? The inflated ego was understandable stemming from the fact he was a successful attorney. But, what was the point of treating everyone around you like shit? If he had a wife, you felt terrible for her. Though you never did notice a wedding ring, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he took it off when he wasn’t around her. And if he wasn’t married, then you figured he was probably single and alone, because who the fuck would deal with that?

Two Months Later

If hell was on earth, it was right here in this very office. At your desk. Working directly for John Price.

The past two months felt like you were running a treadmill that wouldn’t stop and the only way to get off would be to stop running and just let the damn thing fling you into the wall. At least there was paid overtime, or you genuinely would have been on the next train to the unemployment line. But once again, the clock read 6:30 PM for the third time this week. The music from Price’s office blasting as his door had been shut the past four hours. First the sounds of him screaming on the phone, the next two hours followed by a conference call where you were almost positive you heard another attorney start crying and the past hour had been strictly music. You weren’t sure what to expect from his music taste, but the array of Mötley Crüe, Rolling Stones, Slipknot and a bunch of others you couldn’t even begin to name was driving you to the point of losing your mind.

Your body only jumped slightly in your seat when the door to his office abruptly opened, the music pouring into the rest of the empty office. But your eyes focused on Price as you made note of his appearance. In your months working here, nothing about him was ever disheveled. Every button done, tie aligning perfectly with the buttons on his shirt, his hair gel holding every hair on his head in place. Except right now, he looked like he actually just ran on a treadmill as opposed to you who had just felt like you had been on one. The first two buttons of his shirt undone and his tie sprawled on the desk in his office along with his suit jacket that hung off the back of his own chair. His face was slightly red and the gel in his hair looked like it lost his hold and as if his fingers had run through it.

The way his eyes locked on you made your body tense. It made you feel like you were in the wrong for still being in the office. “You’re still here?” he questioned, slightly caught off guard by your presence.

You hesitated for a minute, fingers on the keyboard coming to a stop as you looked at him. Well obviously I’m still fucking here. And the tiredness of the day hitting you, that you couldn’t help but reply with an attitude. “Well, unless I’m a ghost then yes, I’m still here.” The emphasis on the ‘still’ was strong. But your tone didn’t even seem to strike him like you thought it would, he just cleared his throat and nodded.

“I’m stepping out to grab something for dinner quickly. See you tomorrow if you’re gone by the time I’m back.” was all he left you with as he left the office. His demeanor and lack of response to your attitude caught you off guard as you stared blankly at your screen as he left the office. What the fuck is wrong with him?

#john price x reader #john price x you #john price #captain john price #john price x female reader #lawyer!price #captain price #john price cod #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #call of duty #john price x y/n #captain john price x female reader #finally i write the first part for lawyer price the day has come

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badwritinghabit · 2 months

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Hello and Goodbye (part 1) | Chef Luca x fem!Reader

Next Chapter

Authors Note: I got a notification today telling me it is the one year anniversary since I started this blog (!!!) so I decided to celebrate by writing something I've had on my mind since I watched season 3 of The Bear. It was a fun writing exercise! It was done in one day so there has been even less editing than usual but I hope y'all still enjoy it. I'm tempted to make a part 2 that is the smut (and/or fluff) that would follow so let me know if you are interested in that!

Warnings: Some making out and references to past sexual encounters. Still not appropriate for minors. References to injuries from working in a restaurant.

Word count: 2,439

Summary: You attend the funeral for Ever and run into Luca. You shared a night together years ago, before he moved away and now that you are back in the same city you find yourselves drawn to each other again. (Coworkers to friends to more?)

You take a breath, calming yourself as you stand outside Ever the day of the funeral. Chef Andrea Terry is a dear friend and mentor. You are happy for her and this new chapter of her life. And you’re excited to see her again, to celebrate with her. It is the rest of the guests that make you nervous. One guest in particular.

Luca.

You had worked with Luca only briefly, he was already on his way out when you started at Ever. You’d been eager and ready for the challenge when you started. And he’d been kind. It was only the second professional kitchen you’d worked in since culinary school. The first had been harder, the head chef an angry, bitter sort that took out his frustration on the kitchen staff, and as the prep cook you took a lot of the heat.

At Ever, you started as a line chef under Luca as the sous chef. You learned a lot from Luca. More than that, he had become your friend.

You remember the nights he’d come sit with the rest of the cooks on their smoke breaks. Leg pressed against your own as you shared a makeshift seat– pallets from ingredients dropped off earlier in the day, overturned buckets, whatever you could find. Luca would seek you out during service too. He would offer advice but more than that, he’d walk by and tease you, say something to lighten the mood, pull you back to earth when you were getting overwhelmed. You were so focused on improving your skills, keeping your head down and getting your work done. Somehow Luca seemed to know when you were stuck in your head. His companionship helped you grow without completely burning out. The month you spent working together brought you close, fast. He learned all about your life, your interests, your family. And you learned all about him.

You walk into the restaurant, wrapping the shawl around your shoulders a little tighter. As you walk through the front hall of Ever, your eyes land on the board of photos from the restaurant’s history. The one that draws your eyes first is one of you, Luca, and Andrea standing around the first dish you had created for the menu. Luca’s face was turned towards you while you beamed at the camera, proud of your accomplishment. A soft smile lights your face at the memory.

“You came,” you hear Chef Andrea’s voice a second before you feel her arms around you. You lean into her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she does the same in response.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you respond with a smile. “I was just looking at the old pictures.”

“I remember this one,” she points to the same one you were looking at. “I loved that dish. The preparation of the cherries. I knew you’d go on to do big things.” Her kind smile makes you flush in embarrassment. And pride. You bump your shoulder into hers as you both look over the board. “Luca and you always did stick close together,” she says thoughtfully. She points to a few of the photos in particular. After a moment, “He arrived just a few minutes ago.”

You hum in response, hoping to sound uninterested. Her knowing grin lets you know you failed.

“Come on, join the party.” She pulls you into the dining room, squeezing your shoulders before she steps away.

You look around the room, searching through the guests. Your eyes are immediately drawn to Luca, standing to the side and eagerly talking to another Chicago chef that you think you recognize. The other chef seems to be getting a little irritated at Luca’s questioning and you can’t help but smile. Luca had always been a bit of a nerd about cooking, always asking questions, wanting to learn more. You always found it charming but could see that this other chef didn’t agree.

Luca looks almost exactly the same as you remember him. Unbearably handsome. He’s dressed up today for the funeral and something about his all black outfit, his slicked back hair brings back memories of his last day at Ever. His going away party had led to a few too many drinks. You stayed the latest, helping clean up his living room, dancing to the music still pumping from his speakers. One second you were giggling at him about something he said and the next his lips were warm against yours, his hands gripping your hips. The next morning you woke tangled in his sheets and his arms. He was leaving the country, you knew it couldn’t last. And yet you’d buried your face in his chest and held him tighter anyways.

You blink away the memory, embarrassed as you realize Luca is now meeting your gaze. You smile at him and look away before you can see his reaction, trying to find another friendly face in the crowd.

You spot Sydney, a chef you’d gotten to know recently. You step towards her only to notice that she is sitting with Carmen, another chef you worked with at Ever. You smile at them both as you join them at the table. “Is this seat open?” you ask. Syd grins and stands to give you a hug. Carmen watches with an awkward shift of his feet as you pull away from Syd, clearly considering whether he should do the same. You put him out of his misery by pulling him into a quick hug as well.

“It’s good seeing you both!” you say as you sit down. “I went to your restaurant the other day. It’s really extraordinary.”

Sydney waves off your compliments, and your conversation flows easily. The whole table of chefs sharing stories and joking.

You feel him before you see him. His hand grips the back of your chair as he slides into the seat next to you. He says your name and you turn to look at him. His hand slides from the back of the chair to your shoulder. You tense underneath him, his hand warm against the skin only partially covered by the strap of your dress.

“Luca. Hey,” his name comes out too soft, your face already heating under his gaze. You smile at him before looking back at Sydney who is giving you a questioning look, raising her eyebrows.

You scrunch your nose in reply as you grab the glass in front of you and take a big drink, steadying yourself. Luca greets the others at the table but quickly turns back to you as the conversation goes on.

“I was hoping to see you here,” he says. Your eyes are on his hand, holding his champagne flute as he sets it back on the table. Now you’re thinking about his hands on you, the slow unzipping of your dress, fingers dexterously unclasping your bra. You clear your throat.

“I’m living in Chicago again, it wasn’t much of a trip for me. I’m a little surprised you made the trek,” you respond.

“I had heard that. That you were back here.” He pauses. “I had to say goodbye to Ever. There’s a lot of good memories here.” You feel a tingle down your back. It feels directed at you, his comment. But he has always had that power; to make it feel like you are the only other person in the room.

“You’re right. A lot of good memories,” you reply with a smile.

He leans towards you a little closer. "You're beautiful," he says, voice low in your ear. Your cheeks warm. He pulls away a little and says, voice lighter as if to soften his statement, "I like your dress."

Before you can think of a response, Andrea stands up and gives a toast to the guests, her friends, and the restaurant. By the end, you feel tears in your eyes and blink them away, embarrassed. It is the end of an era, after all. It feels big. And final. You take in a breath as you feel Luca squeeze your hand gently in his own. You twine your fingers together and squeeze back. The moment has distracted you and the tears dry up.

As the meal concludes, you follow Luca into the kitchen and hop up on your old station. Sitting on the stainless steel table feels nostalgic. He leans against the table by your side and pours more champagne in your glass. Going on three glasses of champagne has settled your nerves and you and Luca are laughing as you talk about the last few years. You ask about Copenhagen, about his time training with Marcus, the pastry chef at The Bear. He asks about your time in Chicago.

You take a drink and set your glass down next to you. “Do you remember when I sliced my hand open at this station?” you ask, legs swinging slowly. You hold your palm out in front of you. “I think that was the worst cut I’ve ever given myself. I can still see the scar.”

“Of course I remember. It wouldn’t stop bleeding and you just kept wrapping it up in gauze and plasters instead of going to the emergency room.” He shakes his head and reaches over to hold your hand between his, thumb softly tracing the line of scarred tissue on your hand. He steps away from the bench so he can stand directly in front of you. You watch as he lifts your hand and presses a soft kiss in the middle of your palm. Your heart skips a beat as he looks up from your palm and into your eyes.

“I missed you,” you admit, softly, his hands tightening around your own.

“I missed you too.” His voice is heavy as he leans closer to you. He reaches out with one of his hands and brushes your hair away from your face, palm warm against your cheek. So gentle. Your eyes close as he leans closer.

You hear Syd’s voice echo from the hall, “After party at my place! Just down the block.”

You open your eyes to see that Luca has pulled away a little. After a moment he asks, “Should we go to the afterparty?” You nod but don’t move to get up.

Syd walks in and you are still a little too close to not raise suspicion. “After party,” she says, pointing her thumb behind her.

“We’ll follow you!” you respond, sliding down from the table, Luca holding your hand until you have time to steady yourself on your feet.

Syd shoots you a smile before walking back the way she came.

“We should get back to this later though,” you say, biting your lip as he grins back at you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you out, following your group of friends to Syd’s apartment.

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

It’s a fun– if not strange, little party. Some friends of Syd’s bring a keg, you eat cheap frozen pizzas prepared by one of your favorite chefs in the whole world. You dance with Syd and Luca and Andrea, and at one point Richie, the boisterous front of house from The Bear. The night is a blur of laughter and music.

After a song ends, you head to the kitchen to get some water, sliding past Andrea who is slathering jam over Eggo waffles fresh out of the toaster. Luca follows a second later and you both sneak out the side door onto the back stairwell behind the house. As you step into the chilled air, you shiver. You turn back to face Luca and find him only a step away. His hand grips hot against your hip, urging you to move closer. Without thinking, you reach up and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug, your cheek against his chest. The music follows you outside, and Luca sways gently with you in his arms. You press yourself closer.

He’s humming along, the sound reverberating through his chest. You remind yourself that he lives in Copenhagen. That he is just here for Ever. But even if it is just for one night, you want to make the most of it.

You pull away slightly and he loosens his hold. Before he can get too far, you press yourself up on your toes and he responds immediately. His lips press against yours soft at first, and then firm. You open your mouth for him and everything changes.

His hands grip you tight, pulling you against his chest. He swallows your quiet whine of surprise as the kiss turns passionate. Every part of you is on fire. It’s better even then you remember. His rich, smoky scent makes you a little dizzy. You’re caught up in him. You gasp for breath as he pulls away. But it only lasts a second and then he is lifting you onto the railing, pressing himself against you fully. You feel the hard muscles of his arms as they hold you to him. You’re at a similar height now but he is standing between your legs, your skirt hiked up to your thighs. Your hand lowers from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the soft fabric. You grip the cloth and pull him even closer, goosebumps raise on your arms as you feel him groan into your mouth. Then his hands are everywhere, sliding from your hip to your thigh. His hand is hot against the bare skin cool in the night air. His other hand is tangling in your hair, tilting your face so he can kiss you exactly as he wants.

He pulls back again after there is a loud clanging inside. Someone shouts something but it is followed by laughter. You catch your breath as you look at him. Some of your lip gloss is still on his lips. You can’t help but smile, reaching up to rub the shimmer off for him. He smiles against your thumb.

“I’m going to be in Chicago for a few months,” he says, watching for your reaction.

“Months?”

He nods and suddenly it all feels different. You thought this couldn’t be more than one night. But he was staying for months. You realize you should say something but words escape you. “That’s good,” you blurt out.

He smirks but you can see his cheeks turning pink. “Good, huh?”

You nod and pull his shirt to get him to stand closer to you again. “Really good.”

He leans down and presses another kiss to your lips. “Really good,” he agrees.

#chef luca x reader #the bear fanfic

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zo3mess · 5 months

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Too Bad At Goodbyes | Part 3 to Bitter-Sweet

Summary: Officers from other towns were reassigned to help the understaffed police force in Evergreen after the butterfly massacre. The good old game of cat and mouse begins with Vigilante continuing his shenanigans and one police officer determined to catch him. Except it is not entirely clear who is chasing whom.

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it, you know that all too well), handjob, oral (reader receiving), edging, tits worship, hint of sadism?, knife play (to some extent), handcuffs, theft of panties mentioned, enemies become lovers (Who would have thought), female reader, no Y/N

Minors do not interact

Word count: 6.4k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: This is the final part, guys. I’m sorry it took so long to write, but my brain was completely dead after 2 seminar works I had to write last second. Long live the procrastination! Anyway, I hope you will like this and once again thank you for every interaction on any of my posts, I love you all <3

Day after day, week after week, you were slowly but surely realizing you might have overestimated your abilities. You believed you had the guts to catch villains like Joker or Mad Hatter, even your family and friends encouraged you. And you believed their words, you believed yourself. Leaving your town and heading to Evergreen as some sort of bridge to your goal. However this? This wasn’t what you thought it would be like.

Doing minor police work, failing miserably all the time, having a weird relationship with the one person who would get you a ticket to your dream. Hells, you were in charge of fetching take-out every Friday for your coworkers, like a dog playing fetch.

Your office decided on Fennel Fields this time, the most distant restaurant from the precinct.

The noise in the restaurant had been overwhelming, voices chattering all over, glasses clinking, utensils scraping plates, until one guy managed to drown out everything with a simple question “Anything else I can help you with?”

Wait a minute…

You know that voice, you’ve heard it somewhere, no? But where? One simple look at the source and gears in your mind started turning. It was the busboy asking some family a few tables away from you. Nothing out of the ordinary, maybe you misjudged it.

And then the guy turned. Smiling at his coworker that just passed by him with an awkward ‘hey’. That smile. Dimples. Brown hair poking from under his hat. And most importantly two small hickeys just under his jaw he clearly did not care enough to cover in any way.

That’s curious, you left similar marks on Vigilante a few days ago, when you had another run-up with him late at night. He tugged you behind a dumpster and kissed you like a man possessed. And you were feeling bold enough to suck on his tender skin for the first time.

At first, it wasn’t a plan to mark him up, so you can by chance recognize him in public. You marked his neck for him. Eventually, he would tug off his mask, become a normal citizen again, but the prize he got as Vigilante would stay. He would remember you even after the morning sun rose.

Oh dear God…

A smile dropped from your face, eyes widening in disbelief. And you just could not stop staring. As you watched him leave to refill the water pitcher, every noise quieted down.

Vigilante.

That guy was Vigilante. He must have been. What a weird accident would that be, right? Right?

He seemed so sweet though, bright eyes were shining under wire-framed glasses. He looked all shy and nerdy. Fennel Fields busboy could not be the one killing criminals under the moonlight and drawing hearts with blood for you.

“Cash or card?” The cashier’s voice interrupted your inner monologue when he put your take-out in front of you.

“Card, please. Uhhhh…” You squinted at the nametag and continued, “Tyler? Could you do something for me?”

It was not hard finding out the busboy’s name, all that needed to be done was to battle your lashes and sweetly ask the cashier. That guy was more than happy to provide the name of his least favorite coworker. The good old sabotaging in work, how lovely.

So… Adrian Chase. The poor boy is either an unlucky victim of your search or he is Vigilante. Chances were not even 50/50, you were sure. Almost sure. Like 70/30 in your favor.

Finding his address was even easier. God bless the police database. You ought to pay him a visit. By now you knew Vigilante had a habit of going out on Friday night, leaving a fresh new corpse to bask in the morning sun most of the time. Meaning that if you, by any chance, knocked on Chase’s door, he would not be home.

Around 10 p.m. you arrived at the apartment complex where Vigilante was supposed to live. With unsure steps, you made your way through the staircase, stopping once you saw the apartment number you’ve got written on a piece of paper.

However, knocking and neither ringing the bell resulted in open doors. As far as you could tell with ear pressed against the door, no movement was possible to be heard inside.

You could not get discouraged, you were too far to stop. Another plan was the fire escape stairway leading around the building. You sneaked around until you found his living room window, relatively hard task to locate the right apartment. With a quick look, you knew he wasn’t at home. Maybe if you tried to open the window…

Bingo!

For a guy bragging about how he crawled through your open window, he didn’t care enough about locking up his. You carefully crawled into the dark room and a thought passed by that this is so wrong.

But you’re already there, might as well look around to confirm your suspicion.

Cliché of villains living in the lair was wrong this time. His apartment looked well-kept, almost too normal. With a quick rummage you found out he kept knives and guns around, tucked away under the coffee table in the living room, in a cupboard next to cereal in the kitchen. Vigilante’s paranoid.

When you entered his bedroom, the last and only room you had no chance to search, you immediately noticed the peculiar mess. For his respectively clean apartment, his bedroom gave the impression that it was blown out by a bomb. Clothes on the floor, as well as empty water bottles and candy wrappers, messed up bed covers, half completed Lego set scattered over the floor.

A familiar object caught your attention in all that clutter. A piece of lacy blue cloth lying on the floor, oh you knew what it was in an instant. You pocketed it and headed back to the living room, stretching out on his couch. How ironic.

And you waited and waited, losing the track of time, clock was ticking, cars speeding outside, it almost lulled you to sleep. Then all of a sudden you heard the rattling of keys outside of the front door. Bang of doors being shut. Footsteps in the hall. And finally, the living room doors swung open.

It was your time to scare him in his own home. How the tables turned.

“Jesus-“ Adrian all but jumped. Even though he found it weird you weren’t skulking around the streets looking for him, he would have never guessed you would be standing in the middle of his apartment instead. Now you were even at last.

He was not wearing his suit and it took you aback for a split second. If he wore it you would be 100 % sure he was Vigilante, this way there was still some space for doubts. But the way his eyes got stuck on your frame gave him away.

In case you misguessed your deduction and he was, in fact, a normal guy, he would have looked far more shocked, scared even, since a stranger was walking around his apartment. But this look? Oh you knew this look all too well.

“Adrian Chase. It is a pleasure to meet you,” You kept your voice friendly, with an equally complimentary fake smile. “I hope you don’t mind me visiting you. After all, you have been in my house several times and you never invited me to yours.”

“What? No? I’ve never- I have never been in your house. Stranger.” He stuttered right off the bat, that was adorable.

“Stranger? Come on, Vigilante. Don’t lie.”

“Vigilante? I have no idea who that is and even if I did, I have no idea how you might think that I am him. Or her. Or them.”

“I just find it curious you have a familiar hickey on your neck. I left one like this on Vigilante myself.” You never thought you'd find out his secret identity like that, and neither did he, otherwise he wouldn’t let you bite his neck.

“These? Those are not hickeys,” He pointed at his neck and shook his head a little too fast to appear calm “I had an accident”

“Let me guess, you fell on someone’s lips?”

“Happens more often than you’d think.” Ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous.

“Mhhmm, sure.” You fought an emerging smile so hard. You had this idea of confronting him sternly, confidently, and most importantly with a totally cool attitude. That plan was falling apart, whether it was from the happiness of finding out who Vigilante was or his dumbstruck expression, did not matter at the end of the day.

“And this…” From your pocket, you pulled out a bunched-up piece of cloth. Lace panties in the signature teal color. “You have no idea how my underwear got into your bedroom, right?”

“Those are… Mine?” You wondered how this guy never gave away his big secret. He has been living double life for so long and yet he never learned how to lie properly.

“Just because you stole them doesn’t mean they belong to you,” It was a perfect trap. You knew some perverse side of Vigilante would not resist stealing your stuff, especially if it was in the colors of his suit “I bought them specifically to catch you in the act and kept them on top of my drawer. In case they disappeared I would know you were in my house again, rummaging through my stuff.”

“I’m not some pervert that steals panties.” He dramatically gasped and put his hand on the chest to be a tad more theatrical. You completely dismissed his defensive words.

“Give up, Vig. I got you.” Such a bold statement. You knew who he was now, that wouldn’t stop him from killing you right there on the spot, since your goal was to put him behind bars. Would he be able to sleep peacefully if he truly got rid of you? Even if it was for the ‘greater good’ and protecting his identity?

“Are you here to arrest me?” After a beat of silence, he spoke with uncertainty and you weren’t able to pinpoint the emotion that washed over his face.

A triumphant smile dropped from your face with the question. Were you? You had handcuffs in your jacket, all this time they were waiting to be put on his wrists.

But was it what you truly wanted?

“Adrian Chase, Vigilante, you are under arrest.”

His confused face was everything. Every millisecond it lasted was golden. Truth be told every grimace he made was making you happy. You could see his whole face and that was priceless. But aside from his bedazzlement, his lack of resistance was something you had not expected. He simply stood there, turning his back on you and putting his hand behind his back without hesitation.

Adrian knew he was running around on borrowed time. One way or another, today or tomorrow he would be caught or killed. Of course, he prayed that day would never come, but if Vigilante should end, should be caught, he was glad it was you. He would gladly rot in jail with peace of mind if he knew you had fulfilled your dream and made it to Gotham.

“What for?” He asked with a sigh and flinched when the cold metal handcuffs wrapped around his wrists.

“Multiple counts of murder, assault, breaking and entering, obstruction of police work and personally I would like to add theft.” Quite a long list of crimes and misdemeanors.

“What did I steal? Aside from your lingerie?”

“My dignity. My pride. My mind. My-“

“Heart?” He peeked over his shoulder, but it wasn't his usual goofy smile that was distracting you. It was his eyes. He looked right into your soul and searched for answers you didn’t even know you had.

Quiet so loud it almost deafened you. You had no words suitable for a swing back. Instead, you tugged Adrian by his cuffed hands and he obediently backed in your steps all the way to the couch, where you pushed on his shoulders as a sign to sit down.

He did so with such a stoic expression it made your mind wonder what was he feeling. Regret? Sadness? Rage? Admiration perhaps? After all, you found him on your own without the need to snatch his mask like you tried the first time he made his presence known in your own house.

Only heavy breathing filled the room, temperature growing hot with Adrian’s burning gaze. Did it make your cold heart melt or was it already soft when you saw him for the first time without his mask? And did his eyes always pierced your skin with such cruel intention or was it just because he was afraid for his future?

Goddamn the things he made you do.

You found your favorite position on his lap again, straddling him in a hurry before the logical part returned to take hold.

You pressed an open-mouthed kiss on his neck, just under his jaw. After so many make outs you finally got a chance to kiss his pretty neck properly as his collared suit wasn’t an obstacle now.

Adrian saw it the same way, he had waited long enough to feel your warm lips caress his skin once more.

And right here and there he knew you had gone soft for him. He could not control himself and bucked his hips up to yours with an eager whimper.

“It was only a kiss.” His reaction made you chuckle. Power rushed over your body, now that you knew how sensitive he was to your touch.

“Are you quoting Mr. Brightside?” His head cocked to the side with a cheery smile. You wonder what is going on inside his head all the time. Probably a cymbal-banging monkey and Wii music playing in the background. Or in this case, his brain might be playing Mr. Brightside.

“Why would I be?”

“Your voice cracked a little, I thought you were about to sing the rest.” His smile was contagious, you could not help but grin at him in retaliation.

“You’re handcuffed and can’t move, if I started singing it would be officially considered torture.” He deserved to be tortured though, at least a little bit. For all the trouble he caused you, for making you doubt your intentions.

“But you sing for me so prettily. Especially when I stuff you full of my cock. I’ve been hearing your moans in my head for days after our first time. Shit, I had to jerk off all the ti-“ Before he could chatter further you pressed a palm over his mouth. Does this guy ever shut up?

You bowed back to his neck, continuing your work of peppering kisses over his throat, biting and sucking from time to time. But Adrian kept firing words against your hand, every thought he wanted to share with you was muffled and lost.

The other hand slid from his chest down to his jeans. He looked so alien like this. You imagined his face all the time, but he always had his suit. This time he wore simple everyday clothing and it felt wrong in the weirdest way possible.

Palming his bulge through his pants was not enough for Adrian, whines buzzed against your palm more frequently, hips chasing your touch, if he had his hand free you were sure he would be pawing at you in an instant.

You granted him freedom of speech because your hands had more important task than silencing him. Freeing him from the confines of his jeans. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped in milliseconds. So fast he lost the words.

Two fingers were shoved into his mouth, his glassy eyes looked up to you with shock. “Suck.” You told him sternly and he wasted no time to obey. Tongue swirling around your digits was a bit distracting, despite his eagerness you managed to shove down his boxers and let his dick spring free against his stomach.

He looked so pretty like this. Unable to move his hand, unable to talk, red and throbbing cock already spilling precum and the brightest eyes pleading for anything you were willing to give him. If anyone told you this is how your rivalry with Vigilante would end, you might have been nicer to him from the start.

Properly wet fingers were pulled out from his mouth and made their way down. Wrapping around him, stroking slowly but tightly, smearing the saliva all over his length. His eyes silently pleaded for more, but his mouth had trouble forming the words.

“Can I suck your tits?” The attitude of that man.

“Wow, so straightforward.” Most of the time you two were together, clothes covered your bodies. You’ve felt his dick more than you’ve seen it. The fact he was now asking for more of your body just turned you on more.

“You’re the one to talk. You come to my apartment, handcuff me and go straight into jerking me off.” He explained with a strained voice and his eyes flickered down to your hand.

“And snappy.” You grinned at him some more before you removed your hand from him, just to unbutton your shirt and shift the cups of your bralette to the side.

Adrian licked his lips once he saw your breasts spill free, barely blinking, not daring to break the gaze he held with your nipples. After his brain finally realized what was before him, he latched his mouth onto you. Licking, sucking, biting.

Your hand returned to his cock, settling on a nice steady pace that made him groan against your skin, while you, yourself, softly moaned out. It had been too long since someone paid such attention to your chest.

He lapped at your nipples with ferocity, switching from one to another. Tongue drawing circles, teeth pricking the sensitive skin. He was seconds away from straight up motorboating your tits.

Adrian chased your touch, whining and wriggling when you moved your hand faster and faster. So desperate to touch you he had to chase his need away by digging nails into his palms.

Your focus was lacking due to a hungry mouth sucking on your chest, but it did not take a genius to notice the change in demeanor. Eyes tightly shut, breath shaking, needier moans. He was close to bursting in your hand.

“Motherfucker!” He yelled out in frustration when you snatched your hand away and his release with it.

“That’s not nice.” God bless your sarcastic tongue, it drew out the worst in him and what was there not to love than seeing a riled-up man pouting and squirming.

“Sorry, babe, every nice word leaves my mind when I see your face.”

Fingers latched on his face, squishing his cheeks with one hand, tilting his head directly to you. A warning to play nice. But when you saw the realization in his eyes, you kissed the pout formed on his inviting lips.

“Uncuff me,” He demanded with a bratty frown. “Uncuff me and I’ll show you something better than nice words.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it either, you’re mean to me, but here we are.” Did he really just tell you that you don’t deserve it? He just played the same card against you with no shame whatsoever.

Not a single word was said when you stood up from his lap, not even an objection or whine from Adrian when you left him in the living room and with a sway of your curves made your way to the bedroom. You were sure that horndog wouldn’t resist running after you with hands still handcuffed. To your surprise, he didn’t even trip over his own legs when he caught up with you entering the messy room.

After all, you were merciful and quite frankly curious. He promised you something and wanted to get it. So when he awkwardly stood before you, watching you with puppy eyes, how could you resist granting him the freedom he craved.

“Strip,” He said sternly and rubbed his wrists while you were putting away your restraints, but the sharp look you gave him made his voice soften. “Please."

Both undressing while the other watched every move, every piece of clothing being dumped on his already untidy floor. Once you stood there revealed to him, except for your underwear, and Adrian to you, there was no doubt your heart stopped for a second.

Vigilante was a real person…

You could touch him, run your fingers across his chest, into his hair, and he wouldn’t disappear. You knew it before of course, but the true realization hit you the moment you saw his bare skin. Littered with a few small scars, bullet wounds, and fresh bruises ranging from blueish purple to faded yellow.

One of the most beautiful paintings you have ever seen. As most of the masterpiece, this one was also created with madness. Hand in hand with lunacy, paranoia and often a crippling sadness.

There always was and always will be a profound beauty in tragedy. All of this was your tragedy. A story of ambitious woman fighting her way through to success, just to have rug swept under her feet and knocked down by a crazed man.

Maybe you did not find what you initially looked for, success and glory in the work field, but you’ve found something else. A long lost piece. You were fitting together like a puzzle that was finally given a chance to create a bigger picture. Something achingly beautiful.

It seemed Vigilante didn’t have similar thoughts stopping him from doing anything, soon he was on you again. Cradling you in searing hold and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he was afraid you would disappear too, he had to make sure to burn the softness of your body to his mind. The addiction of skin to skin, heart to heart.

Shortly after he stole your breath straight from lungs you found yourselves lying on his bed. Little shakes of excitement accompanied by growing anticipation.

He crawled on top of you like a predator. He got his prey all sprawled out, tense, ready to jump out of its skin, yet ready to jump his bones a second he allowed it. The wandering mind naturally remembered something else, resting in the upper drawer.

Adrain reached across you and started digging through the mess in the nightstand. Baring his pearly whites with a winning smile.

And he was still grinning brightly when he showed you what he fished out. A knife. Out of all the things he could have gotten, it was a knife. You quickly got up to rest on elbows and an inner voice told you to prepare for take off.

“Any reason for that?” You lazily pointed at his hand.

“There might be.”

Few people saw red as a color of passion, and few as a color of anger. Years on the police force taught you to see red as a sign of blood or injury. And Adrian? He connected this color with the suit of his best friend Chris. Seeing you in red panties, Peacemaker’s color, made him literally see red. You’re not Peacemaker’s, you belong to Vigilante, you belong to him.

Adrian wanted to make sure you would remember it. The knife slowly slid under the cloth on your hips. With a clean swipe, he sliced the expensive lace and moved to the other side. Once it didn’t hold together he tore away the last piece of clothing covering your body.

“Fucking four-course meal. I just want to eat you,” A gush of realization hit him in the middle of admiring your naked body. “Eat you out I mean. I’m not a cannibal, I feel like I should clarify that when I’m holding a knife.”

He swiftly tossed the knife on the floor and before you heard clinking of it hitting the ground, he was prying his head right between your thighs.

Adrian had a bad habit of not eating properly. To be fair it was hard for him to notice the hunger when his mind was running at full speed, swarming his head with millions of other things than basic human needs. But when a feast was laid out before him? He wouldn’t leave a single crumb.

The second he buried his tongue in between your folds, you became his favorite dessert. And the second you felt him suck on your clit, you realized his tongue would go to waste in prison. You made the right decision, he was much better off there, worshiping your body.

Delightful pleasure blossomed in your pussy and stretching to the very end of each of your limb and swarming your head. Not even all those nasty noises could not take you out from the heaven you lingered in.

Warm tongue nudging your clit with short flicks before switching to lick a long strip all across your cunt. Prying deep into you for another taste, sucking on your labia, occasionally biting your inner thighs. Adrian was having time of his life while you clutched on the bedsheets and moaned in retaliation.

Completely and utterly consumed… Barely feeling a hand sneaking off your thighs and making its way to your dripping hole. Two fingers were pushed into you with no restraint while Adrian’s tongue continued his work on you.

With trouble you lifted your head from his pillows and looked down just to find Adrian looking at you half-lidded, smirking against your clit when your gazes locked. Then he went for a bold move, latching on you, sucking harshly and shaking his head, which resulted in a bolt of shivers down your spine.

This was too good.

He felt your pussy clenching, arousal seeping down to his bed, legs shaking on either side of his head, and the moment your head got thrown back and moans pitched he withdrew his mouth and fingers from you, letting you tether on the edge.

“Shit!” You yelled out upon being denied your bliss. How did he dare.

“That’s not nice” He repeated your previous words with a grin and playfully slapped your outer thigh.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“I’d much rather fuck you, but if you insist.” His hand wrapped around his cock and started stroking himself above you in an obscene demonstration accompanied by over-the-top moans.

You lunged at him and caught his hands before he could continue. This time he resisted having hands restricted, trying to twist his wrists out of your hold with a frown.

“Let go.” There was a hint of dominance in his voice, but what person you would be if you crumbled under every little threat.

“No.” The hold stayed strong and you had no intention of letting go.

Adrian didn’t appreciate your decision. Deep inside his heart skipped a beat every time you did something defiant. When you cursed in his name, when you threw that metal pipe at him, when you refused to let him go. All that presented a challenge and Adrian’s no quitter. But now? He was pent up and when you just delayed the moment he got to be inside you once more, he had enough. And if that meant he had to fight dirty, so be it.

Your breath almost got knocked out of your lungs when his whole body fell on you, successfully pining you to the mattress. Mouth pressed against yours to prevent you from objecting. You would call him out, just for the sake of it, but his whole weight on you, acting like a weighted blanket, was more than welcome.

You did not even notice when you loosened the hold on his wrists, which Adrian quickly took advantage of. You were too busy kissing him back with the same amount of fierceness and before you could notice, you were the one pinned down by wrists.

And that time, when Adrian was above you, his hands on each side of your face, holding you down like a feral animal, yet staring at you in awe, you realized his eyes were green. So beautifully green. After all that time of wondering what color his eyes were, you finally had an answer.

He shifted your hands together above your head, which allowed him to hold you down with just one hand while the other guided his cock into your sopping pussy. Before he pushed in, you were given a soft kiss, a beautiful contrast to previous actions.

You moaned in each other's mouths when he finally entered you with one stroke. You were a sucker for the feeling of fullness only he was able to give you and after not letting you cum on his mouth you were in need to feel him deep inside again.

“You look so pretty like this.” His hand found its way to your chest and pressed right in the middle, feeling your beating heart. He had a weird fixation with it. Sweet nevertheless.

The hammering heart reminded him no matter what was before and what came next, it was beating for him and him only in that moment.

He drove into you slowly as he basked in the opportunity to feel your walls constrict around him after such a long time. All those wet dreams about you could never replace the real thing.

“I always look pretty.” You smiled at him before he brought his head down. Nice kiss soon turning into a messy one. You could still feel yourself on his tongue when he pried it inside your mouth.

“I can’t argue with that.” He chuckled at your remark after pulling away from the kiss, a string of saliva stretching between you before Adrian wiped it away. With that you rolled up your hips, urging him for more as you fucked yourself on his cock.

Lewld sounds of skin slapping, creaking of the bed, squelching of your wetness and moans and whimpers followed what started as a nice and solid pace and soon turned into the good old savage fucking. And in the meantime he allowed you to run your hands over his body however you wanted.

With Vigilante, with Adrian, it always had to be a lot. No one would hear you complaining though.

With a new vigor of Adrian’s hips slapping against yours, well-kept nails colored in bloody red as you scratched his back in the last hopeless shot to hold on. Deep hurtful marks were left all along his tensing muscles, he didn’t mind it one bit. The idea of being marked in the heat of passion was encouraging at last.

He just wished it would be permanent, a forever reminder of you, that would nudge his memory every time he saw it in a mirror. Whenever this would get a good or bad ending, you were a person who woke up emotions he thought he had lost or hadn’t felt so strongly in a long while.

His hold shifted to your waist, sliding to your hips. Clutching onto you so tightly on purpose to create bruises in the shapes of his fingertips and similar to you, pressing his nails past the barrier of sensitive skin. Hoping it would leave a long-lasting mark. You wailed in response, it hurt so good it made a mush out of your brain.

Yet a dark thought crossed his mind. Getting the knife lying on the floor to carve his initials on your shaking body. That would be the permanence he craved. Painful wounds would turn into nasty scars not allowing you to forget who he was to you for the rest of your life.

But he couldn’t pour all his frustrations on you, all this anxiety and fear of abandonment. He couldn’t do that to you. The truth was you made his blood boil, brought out the worst in him, made him doubt his motivation, terrifying him with arrest, but you had reasons to. It wasn’t accidental or illogical. He could never hurt you for doing the right thing in the eyes of the public even if it meant the worst for him.

If he couldn’t make you remember him with scars on your body, he wanted to make sure you would never forget that night. Pour out a part of his anger on you in the best possible way. His thrusts were merciless, making his cheap bed shake and headboard slam against the wall. Too late to think about the neighbors, your moans and whines were already loud enough to alert everyone in close distance.

“Fuck! Don’t stop!” You screamed out and it only encouraged him to go on, fingers sneaking down your body to rub tight circles on your clit with threatening precision. The sole thing that mattered was to make you cum on his dick.

“You’re doing so well,” He whispered into your hair with a calming voice. You had to tuck your face to his neck, hiding your red cheeks and muffling piercing screams of pleasure with his silky skin. “Cum for me, baby.”

And you did. Hot burning pleasure shot across your body, all the way to your fingers holding onto his back, to toes on your straining feet, your back arched, chest pressed against his, white flashed in front of your eyes.

Adrian slowed down and fucked you through it while muttering sweet words to your ear. Hands slid under you to cradle you in a hot sweaty embrace.

You came down from your high soon after, but his own was awaiting him and he wanted to reach it too. Let his mind shut down.

The way he picked up pace again made you whimper in overstimulation. His body pinned you down, cock sliding in and out of your spent cunt swiftly, quick moans filling your ears, sweat mixing with his deodorant was suddenly so vivid. Adrian won over your senses in every possible aspect.

He was already so close with how your pussy clenched around him when you came. There was no chance for him to last long like this. Not with how his hips bucked like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” His warm hand cradled your cheek, bringing you to reality. “Please, look at me. I want to see your eyes when I cum.”

The plead sounded so broken and urgent, you had no other choice than to comply. You opened your eyes and saw his green ones, staring back at you while his brows knitted together. Eyelids barely resisting the urge to close.

They might have been right when they said eyes are the windows to the soul.

Whispers of his name on your lips broke something inside him. Pushing him over the edge with a shaky moan. His forehead pressed tightly against yours, panting in your open mouth as he pumped his cock into you for the last few times. Hot thick cum coated your already oversensitive insides and you clamped your walls around him to prolong his orgasm.

Not for a second you dared to close your eyes. He asked you nicely, it wouldn’t be fair if you defied. But since when did you care to listen to his pleas?

He stilled his hips when his cock stopped flaring inside you. However, his eyes opened after quite some time, after he gathered enough power to stop his shaking. Maybe you weren’t the only one fucked completely dumb.

He caught your lips in a soft lingering kiss, his thumb stroking your cheek in such loving manner. It spread warmth deep in your chest, so genuine and adoring.

Vigilante, the concept of a person, of a maniac, dragged you through hell. The way he was laughing in your face, the way you stomped in anger like a little child whenever he escaped, only fueling the fire.

But Vigilante you now knew? Adrian Chase? He took you to Heaven. His words made you feel like the most important person, his touch left goosebumps in its way, and the way he treated you after almost fucking your brains out he made you wonder about the remaining sides of him that you haven't had the chance to see so far.

The million-dollar smile he gave you was comforting, you could get used to it. Addictive as much as everything else about him.

Adrian carefully pulled out and rolled to the side, hissing through his teeth when the pain of scratched back hit him. Both of your bodies tiredly rested on his messy bed, heavy breathing joined the ringing in your ears. Long silence haunted the room, you were afraid to say anything, not wanting to disturb the peace between you two, and Adrian had no words to say as it seemed. Until…

“You won’t leave for Gotham, right?”

Oh, he wanted to keep you.

“Well, I promised myself I would not go to Gotham unless I catch Vigilante. But gosh darn, is he one slippery motherfucker.” You turned on your side to face him properly, corners of your mouth twitched upwards in contrast to such ‘hopeless’ statement.

He smiled at you, eyes twinkling with optimism. “I guess you have to stay a little longer. Before you catch him, of course.”

His hand reached out for yours with uncertainty, but once he saw you didn’t pull away, he intertwined fingers with yours in a tight hold.

“Stay.”

Such a simple word, yet it contained his whole heart. Would it be possible for Vigilante, despite his claims that he doesn’t feel emotions, to feel something? And would it be possible for a police officer, despite her claims of hate towards him, to feel the same?

You silently nodded. There was no use for words when the look you shared said everything that needed to be said.

Was it hatred? No, at least not the serious kind. Was it love? Far from it. Maybe what you two shared could not be named.

You would still throw a metal pipe on his head without a second thought and Adrian would trip you with pleasure whilst running away from you. He would stick out tongue on you if you screamed obscenities at him, but he would also kiss your cheek in the morning if you decided to stay the night and you would straighten his glasses for him when needed and tuck away hair from his face.

Both of you would exchange bloody red roses, sweet looks, and bitter words until fate decided otherwise.

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