#at least she made sure to post and make us watch her thirty minute personal introduction video!!

[always-andromeda]

Hey gang, here’s the moodboard for this morning! 😀👍🏻

[voidbeomgyu]

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it. 

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances. 

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.  

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically. 

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying. 

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin. 

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now. 

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain. 

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again. 

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in. 

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door. 

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense. 

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame. 

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

[mamsieur]

Perseus and Andromeda | Javy "Coyote" Machado x Reader

Summary : Javy's not a big fan of night clubs, and yet he agreed to accompany his cousin for her birthday. When all seems too much for him, someone turns his evening for the better.

TW : mention of alcohol, slight panic attack, fluff

Length : 3079 words

AN : That man doesn't have enough works about him. I'll maybe turn this one into a series, who knows.

posted on AO3 October 13, 2023

Javy has never been the type to go clubbing or partying too much, despite what everyone seemed to think. He much preferred a quiet evening with his buddies over a few beers and pizzas, watching a game or a good action movie. The comfort of his home was something he always yearned for when he was out for more than a few hours. Especially since he was permanently stationed in San Diego, his apartment was truly a home, not just a house. He had even adopted a cat from a shelter; an old one named Gizmo. 

His friends, especially Jake, never seemed to understand why he didn't like to stay out late, even on weekends. He didn’t have a girlfriend, he was barely thirty, and his outgoing personality seemed to categorize him as someone who liked to go out and seduce, like his friend Jake. Sure, he liked to flirt and go out once in a while, but he liked the coziness of his own home even more. The only ones in the squadron who seemed to understand and who did not tease him about it were Bob, because of his more reserved and introverted nature, and Bradley, who always claimed he was getting too old to go out every weekend.

And yet here he was, in the middle of a nightclub. 

Under pressure from his aunt, he had no choice but to be a chaperone for his little cousin Ava, who was celebrating her twenty-fifth birthday. She decided to visit him at the last minute and celebrate with her friends in a well renowned club. Ava was sweet, but also a real party girl. She loved to go out, dance and drink the night away. The last time she dragged Javy to a party, he remembered waking up with the worst headache of his life, so he promised himself not to let her make him drink. Also, as Javy didn't want to be alone with his cousin and her three best friends, he managed to bring Jake, Rebeun and Mickey with him. Unfortunately for him, the three boys enjoyed the party with the girls, leaving him alone with his drink at the bar. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he looked down at his phone to check the time. Not even ten minutes had passed since he had last checked. The music was way too loud, the lights were starting to hurt his eyes, but he had to stay at least four hours, if not five, knowing Ava. He loved her for sure, but being here was torture for him. He sighed again and ordered a soda to the bartender, keeping an eye on his baby cousin and her friends.

The atmosphere of nightclubs always made him feel that nothing was real, that everything was fogged in a cloud of alcohol, sweat and uncomfortable heat. He was not uncomfortable per se, but he was not in his element either ; so, he always preferred to stay at the bar, like a ship anchored in a harbor. But tonight Ava seemed to have decided he wasn't going to stand by and watch. It was all right if he didn't drink, but she wasn't going to let him stand by the bar like some kind of security guard.

"Come on Javy, it's my birthday," she whined, "just one dance, please!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him - with great difficulty - to the dance floor.

"Yeah Coyote, loosen up a little," Mickey encouraged with a big grin as he danced with one of Ava's friends who giggled in his arms. The taller man groaned, not very comfortable in the crowd Ava had pushed him into. He sighed as she used her puppy dog eyes to get him to dance with her. 

"Just one dance, Ava. Just. One." He reminded her, holding up a finger. She chuckled as she nodded, a mischievous look in her eyes. Javy sighed and started to dance with her and the others, Jake encouraging him with Reuben. One dance became two, then three, then four... until he lost count. He was kind of stuck in the middle of the dance floor anyway. 

As the minutes and hours passed, Javy had this strange feeling, as if between dream and reality, this gray area where everything seemed unreal and suspended. He knew the music was still loud around him, but he could barely hear it. He felt like he was in absorbent cotton, like after a flight with a high G-force. It wasn't a pleasant or unpleasant sensation, just strange, as if time was passing in a different way. He looked around to spot his friends in the crowd; Mickey was still with Ava's friend, Jake was flirting with an unknown blonde, and Reuben was dancing with Ava and her other friends. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and Ava waved and smiled at Javy, gesturing for him to join her. He shook his head and mouthed that he was going back to the bar. Ava pouted, but then shrugged her shoulders with a grin, already happy to have trapped him into dancing with them for almost two hours.

He closed his eyes for a moment to ground himself, but it didn't seem to work. He needed to get some air, to breathe. But every time he tried to take a few steps, he was blocked. So he stayed a little longer with his friends and Ava. The young woman seemed to be having the time of her life, dancing with her friends and then with Jake or Reuben, strangers or Javy. It reassured him to see her so happy and still in full possession of her senses.

But a feeling of anxiety slowly crept over him. He hated being stuck between so many strangers. His impression of being in cotton was replaced by a feeling of hypersensitivity to the sounds, heat and movements around him. Fatigue didn't help him control the situation. He tried again to make his way through the drunken, dancing crowd. He forced his way through, his eyes fixed on the door to the smoking area. He didn't smoke, but it was the only way to get in and out quickly and safely. He moved forward one by one, apologizing as he went, slipping between people as best he could, avoiding the sticky couples, his gaze always straight ahead. He moved faster and faster as he reached the end of the crowd. When he finally reached the door, it swung open in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. He was faced with a young woman he didn't know, but her face was familiar. She seemed as surprised as he was. Javy's ears were ringing and he couldn't hear anything coherent between the music, his own brain telling him to hurry and the young woman in front of him who seemed to be talking to him. His own breathing seemed far too loud, and he could even hear his heart beating in his ears. The stranger's eyes were filled with concern as she recognized Javy's anxious, almost panicked look. And when she gently grabbed his forearm, everything in the pilot's mind seemed to calm down.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Her voice was soft and reassuring, and Javy could only hear it now; everything had faded away behind him. He blinked a few times before answering.

"Y-Yeah... I, uh, I just need some air, I think..." he stuttered a little. The stranger nodded and let him through the door. She joined him on the small bench. Javy was surprised that there was no one in this smoking area, but it was kind of relieving. He took a moment to simply breathe. He had experienced a panic attack in the past, but he didn't think he could have one just by coming to a club.

"So... what's your name?" the young woman said softly, looking at the stars above them.

"Javy... you?" 

"Y/N," she smiled at him and turned to him, "are you feeling better Javy?"

"Yeah," he nodded and sighed, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

"Don't be, it happens. I've seen a lot of customers get anxious when they spend too much time in crowds," she handed him a small bottle of water from her purse, "I think you should drink some water."

He took the bottle and looked at her suspiciously, "Are you trying to drug me?" he teased, feeling himself blush at the pretty laugh she let out.

"Believe me, pretty boy, if I wanted to drug you, I would have put it in your soda earlier," she winked at him. 

And it clicked in Javy's head, "You're the bartender. We're not in the smoking area," he pointed at her and then at the door, realizing the situation.

"I am and we're not. We're in the staff area," she chuckled, "that's why I asked if you were lost."

"I... I didn't quite hear you," Javy admitted with a bashful smile as he stood up, "Maybe I should let you enjoy your break ?" he gestured toward the door and she shrugged.

"You can stay a while to relax if you want, my shift just ended, I can tell my boss you're a friend. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable here than in the smoking area," she smiled kindly, "it's up to you."

Javy looked at her and pondered his options. He could go to the smoking corner and choke on the smoke, or he could stay with her. He could go back to a tiny room that would surely be crowded with people, or he could stay here with the cute barmaid. 

His choice was quickly made.

"Okay, I'll stay here, but only because you didn't poison my drinks," he smiled and was rewarded with another pretty laugh. He wanted to hear it over and over again. It was like a melody, a soothing one. Javy had had his fair share of dates and flings, but none had made him feel like this. It was weird, but not in a bad way. He wanted to know everything about Y/N, from the most insignificant thing to her biggest milestone, from her favorite color to her entire childhood. When her eyes met his, he felt like a teenager again. He cleared his throat and smiled.

"So you work here?" he asked, immediately cursing himself in his head for asking such a stupid question.

"Yes I do, but it's only temporary, at least I hope so," she smiled at him, "And what do you do, pretty boy?"

"I'm a naval aviator, ma'am," he smiled at the chuckle she let out as he mockingly saluted her. She was so pretty when she laughed; her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were rosy, and her nose wrinkled in such a cute way. Javy felt his heart skip a beat when she looked back at him with such a soft and adorable grin.

"So you're one of those handsome flyboys... What's it like? I mean, flying so high and so fast?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Javy smiled and sat down next to her, his eyes drifting to the starry sky. As he explained what his job was like, she continued to question him with sincere interest. He always answered as best he could without being too technical. After that, they talked about everything and got to know each other. Javy was proud and happy when he could make her laugh. A silly anecdote about a locker room accident between him and Jake made her laugh out loud and she grabbed the young man's forearm to keep from falling over. He felt goosebumps run up his arm and down his back. He didn't want her to let go and she didn't. She gently hooked her arm into his and rested her head on his shoulder.

Everything seemed so simple and easy with her, so crystal clear. There was no awkwardness between them, as if they had known each other for a long time. 

They talked about everything. Javy learned that the young woman loved San Diego, but that her job wasn't fulfilling despite the decent pay, that she rented an old apartment from an unpleasant old man, that she loved admiring the stars but had never really taken the time to learn the constellations. So he told her what little he knew, including the story of Perseus and Andromeda, the story of a hero who flew to save a beautiful princess.

"I could fly and save you from your landlord, just as Perseus saved Andromeda," he teased, and she laughed and shook her head.

"Sounds like an interesting prospect. But just so you know, I'm not a princess in distress either, dear Perseus," she winked at him with a playful smile, her fingers brushing gently along his forearm in lazy circles.

"I never said you were, Andromeda wasn't really in control of her life. You seem to be a strong, independent woman," he winked back, "But if the myth is true, I personally think that Andromeda's beauty wouldn't stand a chance against you," he added, smiling as she blushed and giggled to hide her embarrassment. 

"You're being a little too flattering, Perseus..." she whispered. Javy leaned closer and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Just telling the truth, Andromeda," he smiled at her.

"And if anything, I was the one who saved you tonight, I should be Perseus in this story," she teased, and he laughed.

"Touché."

The evening had taken a rather pleasant turn for Javy. He had almost forgotten about Ava and the others. Only when he felt his phone vibrate did he realize what time it was; the nightclub was about to close and he'd just spent two hours with Y/N. Noticing the time, the young woman swore and sighed. It was nearly three in the morning.

"The club is closing... we have to be discreet on our way back in, the lights all must be on," she said as she stood up and slid her hand into Javy's, "You'll have to follow me very closely flyboy," she smiled and the young man blushed. He nodded with an equally wide smile and squeezed her hand slightly, "Lead the way, Andromeda."

She chuckled and headed for the door. She checked carefully to make sure the way was clear and then quickly pulled Javy inside with her. She looked back at him over her shoulder and they started giggling like kids who didn't get caught stealing candy from the pantry. They slipped through the crowd toward the exit, staying close together. Javy looked around for his cousin and the others outside. He spotted them near their cars, Ava waving at him. Then he looked at Y/N, their hands still in each other's, fingers intertwined. He didn't want to let them go, but he had to get back. And he didn't want to burden her with Jake and Ava's comments or Reuben and Mickey's knowing looks. 

To his surprise, it was the young woman who spoke first, facing him.

"I had a really good time with you... and... I was wondering... I was wondering if..." 

Javy couldn't help but smile a little as she fought down her embarrassment to ask him her question. He ran his free hand over her cheek, lifting her face a little to plant his eyes in hers.

"If your question is whether we can meet again, the answer is yes, Andromeda," he winked at her. The young woman blushed but smiled adorably before handing him her phone so he could punch in his number. Javy laughed a little as she saved it under "Flyboy/Perseus". She sent him a short text message so he had her number too and he saved it as "Savior/Andromeda". It made her laugh and Javy felt his heart flutter. He couldn't wait to ask her out on a real date. So he did.

"So... are you working tomorrow night?"

"No, actually I'm not working until Tuesday," she smiled, "Why?"

"Great. I'll pick you up at 8:00, I know a place where we can do better stargazing than the staff area at the back of the club. I'll bring some food too."

She giggled and nodded, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement, "Sounds lovely, I'll text you my address."

Behind them, Javy could hear his friends and cousin getting a little impatient. He turned his head a little to see what they wanted; while Jake gave him both thumbs up, Ava gestured for him to hurry up; she probably had an after party planned at the Airbnb where she was staying. Y/N followed his gaze and blushed a little when she saw all those eyes on them.

"I think they're waiting for you," she chuckled and squeezed his hand.

"I think they can wait a few more seconds," he muttered, catching her chin and tilting her head a little so she was looking up at him. They were so close that his breath made her skin tingle. She bit her lip, blushing even more when his eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. She rose on her toes, closing the distance between them a little more, and Javy kissed her gently. And it was as if the world disappeared. Her free hand slid down his neck and his down her waist. She was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted in his life, her lips so soft against his.

When they parted, they could hear Ava and the others cheering for them and Y/N snorted a little.

"Okay Perseus, I think your friends are getting a little too excited for you here."

"You think?" he grinned, "In my opinion, they're jealous."

He kissed her again and felt her smile against his lips. But he had to go.

"See you tomorrow Andromeda, be safe on your way home," he whispered to her, smiling. She nodded and gently pulled away. "Be safe too, Perseus," she smiled before walking to her own car, waving to him and his friend behind her. Javy watched her go and finally joined his group with a light step and a throbbing heart. After all, it hadn't been such a terrible evening, and the comforts of home seemed almost bland. There was only one thing he could wait for: the next evening.

[doycngs]

kim taehyung. | oh, lucifer. [i]

summary. you’re pretty damn stupid for accidentally drawing the sigil of lucifer, in effect, trying to summon the devil a thousand times over... but you’re also pretty sure he was more stupid for falling for your dumbass.

pairing. y/n x bts’ taehyung

genre. devil!au, strangers to lovers!au

word count. 7k

[two part series]

part I   |   part II   

warnings. fem!reader [she/her pronouns], swearing, inaccurate descriptions of religious aspects, atheist!reader, my bad humor as per usual, reader has no sense of self-preservation, i think that’s it? and little proofreading ig bc i’m lazy 

inspo. this tumblr post!

taglist. 

(please just reply to this post if you wanna join the taglist! thanks <3)

just a reminder that this is fiction and i made up almost half of the religious stuff i was spewing… i don’t mean to offend anyone at all or try to make evil of religion or anything like that. it’s a concept that i got inspired by off of other fics and just inside my head so please do not flame me and correct me if i got something superrrrr off thank youuu <3

|—————|

BORED, BORED, BORED.

Your professor spews out more and more words that you couldn’t care to comprehend this early in the morning. You really should have practiced some sense of control the one day it really mattered; sign-up day for classes. 

Being almost thirty minutes late paired with your horrible habit of pressing snooze, the worst classes (aka the classes that started at the ass crack of dawn) were all that were left by the time you signed onto your college website. 

The pit of dread that pooled in your stomach the second you noticed your impending doom was all your fault. You really couldn’t blame a single person besides yourself, despite the way you wanted to with all of your heavy heart. 

Seulgi had been really upset at your 7:30 AM scream of frustration that horrid morning.

Sighing, wishing that you could dissociate from your head until class was called for the day, you’re forced to blearily watch the board. Your professor’s words were incredibly small since you had chosen the farthest seat you could manage in this feeble, auditorium-shaped classroom. Wondering in the back of your head how the kids that usually sat back here learned anything, you get your answer by looking left and right. 

All but one other girl in the back row were as slumped as you were, leaning on their desk and weakly holding a pencil to disguise their slight snores. You envied them, actually. As careless as you were about your responsibilities, you weren’t that bad. Paying thousands to go to school was not worth sleeping through. And even if you were a little hypocritical of your own opinion at times, at least you tried your hardest. 

Reminding yourself of this fact, your back automatically straightens and you will yourself to open your ears. Slapping a little sense into your puffy cheeks, you determinedly pick up your blue pen, click its end in confidence, and write down the title of your professor’s current slide. 

You had done the reading late last night, which was why you were so confident about your carelessness this morning. But you’re glad realization seeped into your brain soon enough. This degree wasn’t going to earn itself and through the sheer will of writing this one slide, it was a step closer to throwing your cap into the clear blue skies graduation day. 

Skip forward four slides later, your professor is now on a topic he’s reviewing from last week. You’re relieved, dropping your pen from your fingers and torso twisting itself left and right in your uncomfortable seat. Glad that you paid attention last week, you tune your ears, and get back to your pen. 

It’s running out though, so you switch to a purple one pulled out from your bookbag, sucking on the silver tip to draw the ink out. You hadn’t used it in a while. 

As you look up to the front for the board though, your professor is showing off his cat for some reason. Curling your lips in, you sputter, a little confused at the sudden switch in focus. Not that you were mad… the cat was cute. 

Past five minutes in though, he’s showing off his entire pet collection to date, and thankfully, freshie Taehyun is in the front row, taking the hit for everyone today, asking as many questions as possible to steer your professor off track. 

Not your problem. 

Checking your phone, you had twenty more minutes until you were out of here. Blowing hair from your face, you nod in satisfaction. 

Flipping to the back of your notebook, you decide to continue this design you’ve been working on for your graphic design class. You had to create a symbol based on a letter you had chosen, incorporating symbols and meaning behind it that made the viewer think. As a person that tries not to think too much, this was quite the battle for you. 

Having a few concrete ideas in mind though, you begin a rough sketch, choosing the letter V. It was a pretty letter, no? Starting with a capital letter in Times New Roman, you curl two lines off from its side, crossing them to make an X-shape above it. Wondering where to take it from there, you bite at the pen unconsciously, wracking your brain for what else to add. 

Figuring you could add meaning to whatever you doodle later, you make a larger X above the one you just made by extending the lines. Balancing it out, you connect them with a horizontal line, liking it so far. It was missing something though… hmm. Crossing out the first sketch, you begin once more, making an altered version beside it. 

And that’s what you do for the last minutes of class, redesigning and crossing out each you didn’t like and wanting to change a little as your professor excitedly rambled about his pet parrot. 

You don’t notice a looming figure practically glaring up at you in irking irritation because… why would you? Satan was quite a busy man but could tell when his sigil was genuinely being used for a purpose. But your way of making it was… deluded. 

Of all his years watching his symbol be passed down and drawn millions of times, never once did he think someone had drawn it by accident. And for such a dallying reason as for a fucking design class. 

You jump when your professor gasps in the realization that his allotted time for lessons is over, happily dismissing everyone with a goodbye. A good few students pat Taehyun in the back for his genius. 

Shoving your floppy notebook and pens into your bookbag, you practically fly out of the backdoors, leading to free air. At last, your torture was over and breakfast was calling at the library!

Speedily walking to the large sanctuary you proclaimed as your second home, you double-check your soft-food snack was actually in your bag. Your second-guessing is reassured and pushed back when your fingertips brush the several muffin bars you had haphazardly thrown in your black hole of a carrier. 

You were quite excited to get this assignment for your graphic design class over with, considering that your inspiration was askew these days. You were just on the cusp of getting something good when your professor called time for class. And you had until three P.M. for your next class today, thankfully leaving enough space for you to finish this all. 

Grateful to finally be indoors, a rush of warm air blows from above as you enter the library. Rushing to your usual crook in the corner, your deft fingers rip open a muffin bar package, stuffing your mouth quickly to flip open the back of your notebook again. 

Your purple-inked pen is starting to die off only a minute into continuing your design and you muffle a little swear past the food in your mouth. Glancing up for a split second to nab a new pen from your bag, a dampened scream brings crumbs flying out your lips as you register a very menacing man sitting across from you. 

His sharp, defined eyebrows scrunch more as he gets hit in the face with the fragments of muffin, calmingly but annoyingly, wiping at his cheek with a flick. His dark eyes open once more, the glaringly red irises causing your poor heart to beat at an abnormal rate. 

Slapping a hand to your mouth, you’re frozen still at this all-black suited man before you, all long limbs with a heavy, terrifying aura surrounding him. You would start bolting out of this place if your monkey brain knew how to start working and initiate Plan Survival. 

“I’d appreciate it if you changed your design, little human. It’s quite infuriating, being summoned thousands of times over.” The man bellows, jaw shifting in bored exhaustion. 

You flinch at his deep voice, shoulders bunching upon themselves as you began registering the non-humanlike characteristics of this… “man.” 

“Y-You have… horns.” You can’t help but point rudely, speaking around your mouthful of muffin, “And… red eyes.”  

He rolls the latter, long eyelashes fluttering at your words as he pinches his thumb and pointer together with his temples between them. “How marvelous of you to observe. Did you register my words at all, girl?” 

Swallowing roughly, you grip the armrests of your chair tightly, willing this scary guy to go away. At your stunned silence, Satan cocks his head, deadpan expression tilting forward as his chest follows, leaning into your space. He’s halfway off his chair, arms braced on the edge of your side of the table to glare into your trembling eyes. 

He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you when he slams a hand to your notebook, making you jump at the sudden action. You’re scared shitless but unable to disconnect your gaping at his scarlet-colored irises. 

The man slowly parts his plush lips. “If I feel like a puny pull from your direction, those little hands drawing my sigil once more, I might just drag you down to the darkest pit in Hell myself. Understand, girl?” 

Your shaking inhale of air combines with a shiver down your entire body and all you can do is nod. Your head spins when the suited man grins devilishly, all perfect white teeth with eyes crinkled up as his lips form an ironic heart shape. 

“Lovely. Have a delightfully horrid day, little human.” The man winks and then he’s gone, simply unexisting as his physical form disappears into thin air. 

Oh, God. Your muffin bar is about to suddenly reappear from the bottom of your stomach. 

|—————|

Seulgi has that incredulous look glued on her face right now. The one that predictably comes every time you’re on a tangent about something her tiny brain couldn’t process all that well. And usually, you’re quite unbothered by the look because some people weren’t built like you but now— now that it truly fucking mattered that she took in your words… you felt like sucker-punching that expression right off her face and bonking the idea into her skull. 

“This dude just fucking— disappeared in thin air, Seulgi! I’m not going psycho! He genuinely had red horns growing out of his head like an evil goat or some shit and these terrifying red spheres o-of like… Satan!”

Seulgi can only sigh, slouching in her swivel chair to take in your fast explanation with several seconds of silence. The hope of your roommate taking you seriously for once shrivels when she only twists herself back around to continue her reading. 

“Seulgi! This is serious!” You spit out, stopping your heated pacing on your 130 square feet of dorm room to whack her with a throw pillow. 

She yanks the weapon away from your grip, tossing it on her side of the room to grit her teeth. “I have to study for this exam, Y/N. I am seriously going to lose my nonexistent marbles if you continue this.”

After twenty minutes of telling this horror story over and over, exhaustion wins and you practically collapse over Seulgi, ending up with your butt on the floor, head and arms in her lap. She pityingly runs her fingers through your bird’s nest of hair, which resulted from your endless pulling earlier. 

“You are absolutely batshit crazy…” Her loving tone doesn’t help your mood, “And as your best—” 

“Only—” You add.

“— friend, I am obligated to tell you that you are losing it.”

“Unfortunately.” You mutter into Seulgi’s knees, pressing your eye sockets hard into them. She puts a stop to your light attempt at self-harm, gripping your chin lightly. 

“Are you seriously suggesting that Lucifer himself visited you because you accidentally drew his ritual symbol a hundred times?”

Pouting, you shove your face back into Seulgi’s thighs, “It was more like… a thousand times.” 

“Oh, honey…” Seulgi sighs, untangling the threads of your hair, “You need a psychiatrist badly.” 

|—————|

The thoughts of this dude crowd your little skull all the time. You just couldn’t get over how Satan himself fucking appeared before you like he was meeting you for brunch. Like… could you get any more main character? This happened to people in movies, not in real life by accident. 

You genuinely were atheist before this entire ordeal and now your world’s flipped upside down because… the Devil came before you to tell you to shut the fuck up. How do you make that up? That’s what you try to convince Seulgi and she’s as stubborn as could be. Never did you ever want to hurt your precious little roomie so much and you’re quite the nonviolent person if you do say so yourself. 

Another thing you couldn’t get over how handsome he was. You always pictured the Devil as an ugly three-headed guy with a horned tail, a gigantic naked red body with fangs or something but… he came to you in a well-tailored suit, ironed and cleaned to perfection. His obsidian shaded hair was parted in the middle, a strand in his ruby eyes that shined to a bright candy red when in the light. His lips were very luscious and his smooth skin was almost a caramel color that looked soft to the touch. What appeared like a black branch of visible veins stretched from his Adam’s apple, slinking into his hidden left breast by a loose silk button-up. 

You now understand how the Devil lured sinners to Hell now. He played a part-time human playboy that hunted with his devilish (ignore the pun) good looks alone. 

Now, this is an objective observation though. You would never really fall for Satan because… that’s a horrible way to make your life even worse. But you couldn’t ignore the obvious attraction to him. So when you mention this part to Seulgi a few days later, she laughs even harder at your “running joke”. 

“Now, you’re definitely screwing with me. Please stop, this is so embarrassing for you.” Seulgi wheezes past her squeaking laughter, your anger simmering behind your glare. 

“I’m not projecting my desires on this guy, alright. Satan was dressed this way—”

Another burst of squeaks come your way, “I can’t, I can’t! You can’t just say Satan with such a straight face—!” 

You kind of wanted to be toxic and cut this girl off. But then who else would you rant to about this? Seulgi was only beginning to entertain you and your stories of the Devil now because it was her shot of serotonin every day. 

You needed a way to convince her, it was digging and itching in the absolute marrow of your bones to prove this girl wrong. You weren’t crazy! You weren’t! You were confident in what you saw and you would die on this hill if you had to. 

So that’s what your thinking was as you opened up your notebook again. You hadn’t even touched the cursed thing since you had your personal encounter with Satan a week ago but you died to. 

Instincts had screamed at you the second you bolted out of the library to yeet the blue spiraled book into its belonged home of the school’s back dumpsters. That’s exactly what you had done and you had regretted it almost immediately, diving into the grimy green container to fetch it again. 

After all, you had to pass your professor’s class, all be damned if the Devil is going to stop you from doing that. 

But after, you had raced home, shoved it into the back of your school-assigned desk’s drawer, and called it a day until you absolutely had to study from the cursed thing. You had been afraid to touch it since, even when Seulgi tried to bait you multiple times into showing her for shits and giggles.

Your resolve had been scratching off every day though, that simpering, bubbling liquid anger held in your stomach worming its way up like an erupting volcano. Your roommate was really on her last straw when she drunkenly poked at you to get the notebook and prove her wrong. 

Okay, maybe you were a little crazy in this aspect because you did exactly what you knew you shouldn’t have done because your pride told you so… You were a bit of a hypocrite. Can you blame yourself though? Tequila and your fuzzy brain never really had the best of relationships. That’s your excuse anyway as you fumbled for the notebook and took that purple pen again, messily drawing the sigil of Lucifer to summon him. 

You should have taken his warning more seriously and the quick sobering you experienced was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over your head. The insistent swearing under your breath and panicking expression only had Seulgi grinning as she laid starfish on her bed, giggling at your stupidity. 

“See? I told you, dummy! You’re so funny for—” 

Dread enveloped you as he appeared at the foot of your bed, sitting cross-legged on your desk. The Devil picked under his rugged nails, staring dead straight into your eyes, your frozen form sat kneeling by your pillows. 

He only grinned, that heart-shaped smile coming back as he took in your attire and state. You had sleep shorts on, a large T-shirt of the Jonas Brothers thrown over them. The warm skin of your cheeks and neck were appealing to Lucifer as he eyed your heaving body up and down. 

“You should have listened carefully, little human.” He got up gracefully, ignoring Seulgi’s terrified, gaping figure curled in the corner as he approached you. 

You struggled to fight for yourself. “I am so sorry. I am so so, so sorry. I-I didn’t think—” 

“That I was serious, did you? You atheists never take a good warning to heart, hm?” He grabbed at your jaw in a flash, forcefully tilting your head as he took in your pretty features. 

Your alcohol-induced brain breathed in the Devil’s cologne and shuddered at the enticing smell. He was quite literally built to be your wet dream. It was sick to think about but that was a large portion of what you wondered, despite the impending doom of your situation. 

It was like he could read you as he smirked when you conjured those thoughts. “What a strange one you are…” 

He continued inspecting you but the nails slowly grew into long claws, pressing in to almost draw blood from your cheeks. Wincing, in instinct you bend at his too-strong hold, gripping at his long fingers to let you go. 

“P-Please, I promise I won’t do it again. Please, let me go!” You whimpered past dry lips. 

The last words you can consciously remember, paired with the image of blaring scarlet eyes forced your own to flutter closed. 

“I don’t think so, little one.” 

|—————| 

“Oh, my God...”

“Please. It’s oh, Lucifer down here.”

Grasping onto your band tee, you whip yourself around in every direction, taking in the horror of the place you were currently at. 

“This has to be a fever dream.” 

“Oh, I bet you wish it was.” The Devil chuckles darkly, sitting low upon his throne with his toned legs spread wide. 

“Why…” You’re starting to panic, breathing uneven as your limbs grow weak, “Why did you bring me here?” 

“Because I wanted a new jester.” He sarcastically drawls and you look up, willing yourself to calm down. 

This is insane! Just a few minutes ago, you swear you were with Seulgi, getting shit-faced in your shared dorm. You hadn’t meant to actually provoke him to come to you again. Fuck, were you too drunk? Was this all a dream? It had to be right? You’re not actually in Hell right now? 

“You’re in Hell, darling. Do not doubt that.” The Devil heaves as he stands up, approaching your crouched, sweating form, it being steaming in his throne room. He had forgotten how weak little humans were and with a slight wave of his forefingers, the temperature drops significantly. 

“Can you… read my thoughts?” You ask fearfully, somehow still bold enough with your tipsiness to look Satan in the eyes. 

Mashed potatoes. 

The Devil chuckles at your abrupt hungry thinking, looking to the side to hide his smile. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a human like you,” He says mirthfully, “What’s your name, girl?” 

He bends in half to reach lower into your space. As much as you want to back away, you will yourself not be so afraid. If Satan was willing to entertain himself with you for a little bit, maybe you could charm your way out of this literal Hellhole. 

“It’s Y/N. Don’t you already know that?” You acquire, tilting your head to the side. 

That devilish smile slides back onto his visage, ruby eyes flickering to that candy red when the braziers in the wide room come close enough. “Well, of course I do. I just wondered if you knew it yourself, Y/N.” 

You can’t help the way your tongue dries up at the Devil speaking your name so carelessly. Maybe you weren’t leaving this place. 

“In Hell, things work differently. Humans can forget their names with time.” 

Your heart seizes with those words. “I-I’ll forget my name? I don’t want to—” 

“Oh, relax, will you?” He squints down, disliking your stumbling, “I haven’t quite thrown you to the pits yet. You’re fine up here with me.” 

“And… do you plan to? W-Why do you have me up here now? With you?” 

Noticing belatedly that his eyes scrunch up to crescents way before his mouth forms that charming shape, you watch as the Devil ponders his response. 

“Hmm, let’s just say I needed a new perspective on something. Help me before I take your soul?” 

You scramble back, about to twist and bolt away from the Devil when a searing hot grip wraps around your ankle and yanks you back into him. 

With wide eyes when you flip onto your back, you rush to breathlessly explain yourself. “I promise my flight instinct usually doesn’t work, I don’t know why I just—” 

“Let’s make a deal since you so obviously want to leave me.” 

You want to protest just so that you could get on this guy’s good side but you had severely fucked that possibility up just now. 

“Help me with these few things and I’ll let you leave Hell. Try to run one more time and to the Great Pit you go, hm?” 

The bargain sounded easy enough, right? 

He extends a large palm for you to shake and you slowly envelop your small one into his. A yelp escapes your lips when a brand of a very familiar sigil appears on your wrist where his thumb rested in your grasp. The raised, irritated skin stings, and when you run a featherlight touch over it, a whimper follows. 

Looking up to the Devil again, he winks, the alcohol you downed earlier tonight swirling your head worse. “Just a precaution.” 

The saying, “Don’t make deals with the Devil” pops into your mind, and looking down at the brand on your wrist, an odd rush of reverence for those wise words wash over you. You suppose it’s a lesson you’re soon to learn well. 

He offers another hand to help you stand and begrudgingly you take it, not wanting to upset Satan into making more marks on your skin. 

“Where are we going?” You pose, looking up to see Satan’s sharp jaw shift, a natural smirk curling onto his face. 

“You’ll see, impatient one.” 

Wanting to ask more questions in curiosity, you fight the urge and zip your mouth shut. The Devil glances over your timid figure though, who walks much slower beside him, almost needing to take twice as many steps as he does. 

What a delicate little thing humans were. For all the deals he overlooks when bringing human souls down to Hell for banishing, the Devil wasn’t all that well-versed in their actual behavior. It’s been eons since he had been attached to a specific one for so long. A string of connection that you unknowingly pull at has been goading him to keep an eye on you. 

You’re a strange human indeed, and Lucifer can’t help but try and keep you at his side for a little longer. He was abusing his power with that brand but what you didn’t know, didn’t matter. After all, the Devil doesn’t claim to have a good conscience. He only has it on Wednesdays actually... sometimes Thursdays if he was feeling dandy. 

Unfortunately for you, today is a Saturday.

“You can ask your trivial questions, human. I do not mind. Many are not well-versed in religion these days.” Lucifer avoids your shocked expression when he reads your head again. 

“So you can read my thoughts!” You jump in the middle of walking, gaining a bit of distance beside the Devil before falling behind quickly enough, “I knew you could! Can you do it all the time?” 

He scratches under his chin, “If I want to, I can. A little energy I exchange for great power. It’s how I’m confident in the sorry lives I take here in Hell.” 

You cringe a little in your excited state, forgetting how morbid this place was. “Ah, right. I, um, then… I won’t be thrown back here again, will I?” 

Lucifer struggles to lie to your face for some reason so he twists his words in the natural way he usually does. “Well, you made a deal with me, darling—”

Your cheeks heat at the nickname. 

“— you’ll be able to tell if you decide to escape, no?” 

Nodding, you accept this fate and decide to implore the Devil’s lore. 

“So what do you do down here? Just oversee all the sinners and bring them down here when it’s time?” 

“That is the general idea, yes. The especially horrible ones get tempted by many of my associates to be invited to the party early.” He bares his teeth in a bright, broad beam, defined brows raising in a quirk.

“I see… like a succubus?” 

For how little Lucifer thought you were about his world, he was a little surprised you knew what a succubus was. 

“Yes, exactly. And how do you know of a succubus, girl?” 

You tell him like it was, plain and simple. “Jennifer’s Body.” 

He scoffs at your reply.

You wonder in your head if you were a bad person for being an exception to this. I mean… if you accidentally drew his sigil an ungodly amount of times on accident, was that enough to be sentenced to Hell?

You’re startled by a warm petting at the top of your head. When you peer up, there’s a bemused smile on the Devil’s plush lips. 

“You have many fickle thoughts, girl. It’s quite beguiling.” 

Should you be grateful for this compliment? You had no clue.

Another loud scoff passes his mouth as he takes his hand off your head, looking forward again. 

“Any more dying questions, human?” 

“Um… why do you need my opinion on this thing you’re bringing me to?” You ask meekly, wondering whether you were just going to receive another, “Wait and you’ll see” type of answer. 

The Devil folds his hands behind his back, the black double doors you were heading to down this formidable dark hall opening by themselves. You marvel at his power under your breath. 

“Well… it must have been fate that I visited your state when you tried to summon me a thousand or more times. I was irked beyond belief—” 

“That was truly an accident on my part—” 

“— and yet I was refreshed by your peculiar thinking. My council is forever old and fading, never changing their ways. I need new eyes for this project.” 

With that, you pass the wide doorway and take in the chaotic surroundings. On the left side of the enormous space was a silver chained gate, intricate details curling and dying off in every direction. The barrier was wide open, bringing in hordes and hordes of people from everywhere and... nowhere it seemed. From where you could see, it revealed a black abyss where thousands and thousands were waiting in these slow lines. 

Speaking of the lines, there were four of them, branching into the four corners of the hall, breaking out into smaller and even smaller ones. The ends of the lines reached individual desks where the next person in line came before… 

“Underlings,” Lucifer fills in for you, bringing you closer for the both of you to listen in on an exchange, “They help me decide whether Hell is their true afterlife home, you see. I take on the big cases and step in when I need to. Cuts down on the slack so I grant them just a tiny slice of power from me.”

You nod in understanding, thinking that the hundred desks were set up like train station centers where you bought tickets. It was incredibly loud and busy, half of the sound in the room being taken by an incessant burr. You realize late that it comes from a printer-like machine, old and rusty which is placed beside each underling. With a flick of their arrow-shaped tail, the instrument shudders out a sheet of paper. 

When you try to peek at what it says, Lucifer snaps his fingers quickly, stopping this one underling’s deadpan speech to the shivering human customer. 

“Hand us a copy, will you Huening Kai?” 

Bored and obviously tired, the young creature sighs, jerking his tail to hit a button on the side of the machine, spitting out another of the same paper. The Devil hands you the page and you gasp at the list of sins this person has committed. 

“Have anything to say for yourself, man? You’ve been a really shitty person.” Huening Kai drones, tilting his chin down towards his chest with his feet propped up.

The human stutters, looking between the three of you, drawn to start pleading Satan. He just manages with an instinct to realize he was the bigger power here. Pityingly folding his body into a begging position, he rubs his hands together like he’s about to start a fire or something. 

Before the man starts spewing nonsense, Kai and Satan make eye contact, and then the latter is pulling you away, despite your rapture in watching the interaction. It was like watching a car crash on the freeway; you’re unable to tear your gaze away from the terrible show. 

You miss Lucifer’s chuckle from your again, deranged thoughts, placing a heated hand on your shoulder to guide your feet to the room’s right side. Another gate that looks exactly like the one on the left is intermingling with these deep, merlot-colored vines that twisted off into a wide, cave-like ravine. The gorge had a wide width, with steep sides encased in hundreds of worn-down stone stairs, carved from what looked like eons ago. 

Those lines of people that you assumed were decidedly going down to Hell’s pit, were led down the rocky steps into a fiery chasm below. The Devil doesn’t let you get too close, scared you’ll fall or something along that sort, but you can just see a little of the hollow, all swirling red with specks of dark bodies reaching for help. 

Your stomach turns at the sight, bile wanting to climb up at the echoing screams of so many voices traveling up to you. It was easier to hear by the open gate as those joining this never-ending line realized at the same time as you what awaited them. 

You were being too careless about this whole situation. If this was what was awaiting you if you didn’t do your job right, you might just go genuinely insane. For real this time.

Looking up, you ask solemnly, “What do I have to do?” 

The Devil takes in the rough swallow that goes down your throat and tries to squeeze at your shoulder comfortably. “You’re going to help me transform this place.” 

“W-What— What do you mean by that?” Taking a quick scan around, you bewilderingly wonder what needs to be transformed. 

Lucifer opens his wingspan, long arms waving to the chaos in this room. “This…” His booming deep voice draws your ears to listen closely, “... is inefficient. I’m getting news from above about how slow this process is. As you could tell earlier, the lines are getting too long and it’s getting old Father mad,”

His tone is spiteful as he continues. “It hardly seems like my fault that more sinners are joining me in Hell by the day— not a lack on my part but his— and now this whole shebang needs changing.”

“So… you want me to help you make Hell easier to enter?” 

The heart-shaped grin you’re slowly beginning to see is signature to the Devil graces you once more. 

“Right on, little human. Let’s begin.”

|—————|

“Do you think Seulgi is worried for me right now?” You ask another question and the Devil sighs loud at his desk. 

You’re sat at your child one that he had playfully conjured to be in the corner of his office. Jokes on him because you didn’t end up complaining and settled in the tiny chair, comfortable as could be. 

“Like I told you, time works differently down here. I think I now understand how she wished for you to be gone sometimes.” 

Your gasp amuses him; you can tell by the smirk on Lucifer’s lips, even if he was looking down at his blueprint currently. “You’re lying. She wished for me to be dead?” 

He looks up, rolling his eyes. “No, that’s not what I said. I said that she wished for you to be gone sometimes. That does not mean dead.” 

“Well, now she’s dead to me.” You huff in a whisper, mouth pouting as you continued sketching your side of the blueprint as well. 

Decidedly, you ignore the Devil’s rough chuckle, pressing extra ink with this feather pen in anger. That was a severe mistake because a blot of ink comes out strong and you swear loudly, making Satan jerk. 

He tries to hide his scared reaction by tossing a tired expression your way. “What now, Y/N?”

Throwing the stupid writing utensil away, you begin your ramble, “You know, it’s a good thing you’re updating this place because it actually sucks—”

Lucifer throws up his eyebrows at that. 

“— Like, your ink is trash. Why can’t you just update to pens? They work so much better and they have a variation of colors you can write in. Why use boring-ass black all the time? Add some spice for once. And for the list of sins you print out when making the final decision? That’s honestly so bad for the environment! Imagine how much paper you waste in one day. No, actually, in like… the whole time you’ve been running this place! Do you have an ecosystem here? Because you must be screwing it up severely with all this paper you waste for one-time use. Also—”

All that Lucifer can do is fondly listen to your daily ramble today, ignoring the multiple points you’ve mentioned before like clockwork. He knew that everything here was outdated but your jocular complaining of it was the highlight of his day. 

The way you spoke and thought of the world reminded him of the elated feeling he got when he used to be able to fly. That sense of air, gliding in the baby blue skies; like bursting into a fluffy cloud and the rush of cold, wet drops of precipitation clinging to his skin after. It felt like him opening his eyes for the first time in forever to see how the Earth has not changed one bit. That beauty in the world just needs a new perspective. That was how Lucifer saw you. 

More and more lately throughout the week and a half you’ve stayed with him, random spurts of your family and friends would pop up in your head. And Lucifer would selfishly try to banish and distract you from these thoughts out of his own loneliness. If he truly wanted you out of here, the both of you would have finished the second you added your two cents to the project. He was committed to dragging out your time though, wishing every second of your day would be with him. 

It was foolish. He knew. The idea of the Devil falling for a puny human was a joke— sounded like it could only be a joke if Father cared to check in and see how his old fallen angel was doing. But Lucifer couldn’t help his feelings, despite his cold heart’s protest.

The nicknames of “girl” and “little human” were now “Y/N” and “darling”, interchanged after the other. His hands gravitated to innocently touch you for the smallest things now and his eyes always found their way back to your small figure, stubbornly sitting in the dumb child’s chair he made for you. Your laughter and smile were the bright lights in his immortal life now and joys from the pride he took in his job were sucked out of his own barely-there soul. 

Whenever you encountered the true horrors of what he did every day, Lucifer would burn in shame at his acts. It had been a long time since he had felt regret in standing against Father and yet, all of that upheaval is brought back up with the looks of sadness and despair you have at the souls suffering from his hand. Lucifer suddenly felt wrong in his body, not feeling that desperate pull of pride in his all-godly powers now. And he knew deep down in his bones that if you were to leave him as well as his pride had gone, there would be nothing left of him. 

“Lucifer?”

The call of his old name brings him out of his reverie. The labels of the names you call him have been ticking at his skin as well. It didn’t feel right, the way you believed the ire behind those titles. The furious wrath he had felt in which those names were created was stifled the more he was present in your company. 

“Don’t call me that.” 

The scrunching of the place between your brows appears from confusion. Expertly sensing a change in your recent companion’s mood, you drop still. 

“But I’ve been calling you that for a while. You told me to—”

The Devil tightens his hold on the edge of his mahogany desk, head thrown down in hatred of the way you’re currently judging him. The way you will soon judge him for his sudden change in heart... at your realization of his wretched fondness of you. 

“Forget what I said. Forget…” He finally manages to meet your gaze, which he was never afraid to meet before, “Forget everything I said.” 

You shake your head, dumbfounded at Lucifer’s words. You didn’t know what he was on about. “I don’t understand what you’re—” 

“I’m allowing you to leave. You can leave Hell. I’ll bring you back to Seulgi in your dorm myself.” His serious tone should have relief and happiness rushing through your veins. The opposite happens, confusion of your feelings flooding your head. 

“I— wait. This is, this is all so sudden,” You stand up, and the last thing that Lucifer wanted you to do, you exactly did by approaching him, “What’s going on? Weren’t we just talking about the project a second ago?” 

The scent of your lovely perfume floods Lucifer’s senses and he closes his eyes tightly to push down the want and desire to continue imprisoning you here.

“I’ve made up my mind. I— you just made me realize I don’t need you here anymore. You’ve helped more than you needed to.” Lucifer says, selfishly taking in the sight of you so close to him one last time. 

“But—” You look back to your abandoned draft in the corner, “I didn’t finish.” 

He dies to kiss away the pout on your lips but forces himself to hold back. Lucifer knew he was getting too attached; this had to stop now. 

“It’s time you head back to your real home, girl.” The bringing of the old name stings and you don’t know why. It felt like all the hard work you had put in this past week and a half were all gone. 

You should feel ecstatic you’re leaving this place. So why did a big part of you want to stay, despite everything? 

It takes a while before you can gather words on your tongue and voice your agreement. Lucifer can read the thoughts in the head without trouble and his weak heart aches at the troubling questions brewing in your mind. Before you could realize what you felt for the Devil himself, he should cut you off. To spare himself the pain. 

It would never work out anyway. He thinks.

“I uh... Okay, yeah. I— I’ll go back, yeah. I have a shit-ton lot of homework to catch up on.” You try to joke, sending a light smile Lucifer’s way. 

At that, he goes around his desk to stand before you, gently grasping your hand which held his brand on your soft skin. The raised sigil is all healed now, with you unknowing of the healing he had placed on you soon after it was branded on. Rubbing at the skin with his thumb, the anchor that was keeping you here on his accord all but brushes away as he continues stroking at it. His warm touch eventually makes the whole symbol go away on your wrist and you gasp at the sight. 

“You’re free from me,” Lucifer says, the underlying sadness beneath the uttered sentence pulling at your heartstrings. 

“So… that’s it? I’m… I’m going back?” Making sure, you connect gazes again with Lucifer, confirming it as he nods. 

“Yes but—” 

The Devil was a selfish man, wasn’t he? He felt disgusted in his own body, asking you to do something you didn’t know the true power of doing but… Lucifer needed it. He needed to hear his real name leave your lips, just if this was the last time he ever saw you in the flesh.

“— Do me one last favor?” 

You nod wordlessly. 

“Say my real name?”

Your fast heartbeat races in your throat, choking out, “Your real name? Isn’t Lucifer—?” 

“My angel name… please?” 

Those ruby eyes you’ve grown to stop fearing and instead feel comforted by, turn to that candy red when looking at you. 

“Say... Taehyung.” 

Taehyung. That’s a pretty name.

Droplets of tears form at the corner of his wide eyes and he smiles into that charming heart watery at your unfiltered thought. 

“Taehyung.”

And with that, in Hell’s Wednesday evening, you’re transported back into your dorm room with Seulgi still curled trembling on her bed, terrified to death. You realize belatedly that no time has passed at all here. Ignoring Seulgi’s scared figure, you blindly reach to sit down in your desk chair, head throbbing because of thoughts of who you had suddenly grown attached to in Hell.

The Devil’s real name was Taehyung.

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

[jiminzfilter]

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

:(

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

[claire8216]

Julie and the Phantoms | Juke | Earthquake/Trapped AU | Rated Teen for swearing and slight mentions of blood | Inspired by this post

Happy birthday, @missjoolee! I’m so happy we met and became friends through this silly little thing called fandom, and I hope you have an amazing birthday because you absolutely deserve it. Here’s just a little something for you, hopefully it’s enough to ease your hunger on this AU (at least for a little bit lol). I hope you like it! Love you, Tater!

As the World Slowly Crumbles (I’ll Just Turn to Look at You)

If someone were to have told Julie that morning she’d end up trapped in a bathroom with Luke Patterson that night, she would have laughed in their face.

Because really, how does one even get trapped in a bathroom??

One word.

Earthquake.

It was supposed to be a quiet night.

Just a quiet night in watching movies until the sun came up. A weekly tradition Julie, Flynn, Luke, Alex, and Reggie started when the boys realized their random fourth roommate assigned to them by their apartment complex was the absolute worst and threw a fit every time they tried to have people over.

It was a tradition Julie came to cherish, because what was better than spending the entire night with your favorite people in the world?

Of course, Luke wasn’t even supposed to show up tonight. Not after the fight the two of them had yesterday. Not after Julie tried to confide in him about whether she should try to go for it with Nick, only to have it all thrown back in her face as Luke practically said Nick is too good for her.

And no, technically, he hadn’t been uninvited from movie night. Julie just thought he’d have enough common sense to realize she needed time away before they worked through their issues.

But because Luke is Luke, and he decided long ago that the term ‘boundaries’ didn’t apply to him, he showed up anyways, wanting to hash it all out as soon as possible.

Which is why Julie had angrily dragged Luke up the stairs into her bathroom, as far away from their friends as possible so that they hopefully wouldn’t hear the yelling that was inevitably about to happen.

Little did she know, she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

Because one minute she’s giving Luke a piece of her mind, and then the next everything around her is shaking and shower items and toiletries are clattering to the ground and it’s almost impossible to stand upright and Luke is practically lunging at her, not hesitating for a moment before using himself as her own personal human shield.

Julie isn’t sure how long it goes on for, but it feels like forever, even though logically she knows earthquakes generally only last up to thirty seconds or so. But when the world once again goes still, she slowly lifts her head from where it had made such a natural home against Luke’s racing heart and opens her eyes, only to find him already looking at her.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a beat of silence, his eyes frantically roaming over her face and down her body, checking for any sign of injury.

“Y-yeah. I think so,” she says, still shell-shocked. Her eyes immediately home in on a patch of red on his temple. She reaches for it, hand still shaking as she examines the slightly sticky substance and the area around it.

“But you’re not. God Luke, you’re bleeding!”

He brings a hand up to his head, their fingers brushing ever so slightly as she removes hers. He winces as he makes contact with the wound. “It’s okay, I’m fine. I think the shower curtain rod fell on me. Not life-threatening or anything,” he reassures her.

Julie nods, taking in the way his everchanging eyes are currently a vibrant blueish-green, the color they always turn when he has adrenaline coursing through his body. Usually after a gig or something though. Not a freaking earthquake.

Oh no. Gig. Band. Friends.

“We need to find the others,” she says, untangling herself from Luke’s protective hold.

“Shit, yeah we do.”

Julie scoots past Luke, the bathroom finally feeling just a bit too small as her shoulder brushes against his chest as she makes her way to the door.

She reaches for the handle, turns the doorknob and pushes and then…

Nothing.

The door wouldn’t budge.

“Um, Luke? I think we have a problem.”

Luke frowns. “You’re kidding.”

Julie rolls her eyes. “We just went through a fucking earthquake, Luke, why would I be kidding around right now?”

Luke just sighs, taking the one step it took to get to Julie and the door. “Here, let’s both try pushing.”

And they do try, but to no avail.

It’s official. They’re stuck.

Julie can’t help but jump to the worst possible conclusion. That their friends are all unconscious and severely injured or worse. That she and Luke are stuck in this stupid bathroom and no one knows to come looking for them and–

She pounds her fists against the door. “Fuck! We need to get out of here! We don’t know if everyone’s okay or what else may be going on, and what if-”

“Jules, hey, look at me,” Luke interrupts. He cups her face with his hands gently, but firm enough to where she can focus on his touch. Ground herself to reality with it. “It’s okay. We have our phones. We’ll just call them.”

Oh. Of course. Apparently in her panic, she forgot phones exist.

They call Alex, and to their immediate relief learn that he, Reggie and Flynn were able to make it outside after the earthquake was done, but that there were ceiling beams that had fallen, which prevented them from being able to reach the two of them.

Julie assumes one of the beams was up against the bathroom door, locking them in. Their friends had already called 911, but they have no idea how long it’ll take for them to get there.

Finally, Luke hangs up the phone, an awkward silence falling between the two of them.

“Well,” Luke says, finally breaking the silence, “if we were a movie, this would be the epitome of a ‘record scratch, freeze frame’ moment.”

Julie lets out a long, frustrated sigh.

She might actually kill him.

But Luke continues. “Yep, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up in-”

“Luke, shut up!” Julie exclaims. “Can we please just, like, sit in silence or something?”

His shoulders deflate slightly, and Julie refuses to look at his face because she just knows he has that kicked puppy look going on and it’s impossible to stay mad at him when he looks like that.

“Fine. Whatever.”

They sit in silence for the next twenty or so minutes, Luke on the edge of the bathtub and Julie with her back against the door. They get ahold of their families to assure everyone is unharmed and update them on their situation. Julie makes plans to sleep at her dad’s house that night, figuring there was no way the authorities would let her and Flynn back into their house once they were rescued.

Eventually, Luke can’t take the silence anymore.

“Julie, can we please just talk about this already? I already said I was sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. He still doesn’t get it.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry, Luke. It’s the fact that you even said something like that to me in the first place.”

Luke groans in frustration, standing up from his place on the edge of the bathtub. “You’re misunderstanding what I meant, Jules!”

Julie rises from her place against the door, refusing to give Luke the higher ground.

“You said, and I quote, ‘you’re not good for Nick.’ How else am I supposed to take that?”

Julie isn’t even upset that he disapproves of the idea of her and Nick. Because at the end of the day, Nick is just another guy in her eyes, not the one she truly wants.

Julie realized years ago that she was in love with Luke. But she also realized that she missed her shot with him. There’s too much history, too many years of friendship to risk anything more now. So she was finally trying to get over him. And that started with Nick, the cute guitarist they sometimes ran into at their regular venues. Someone who has so many similarities to Luke, yet in Julie’s eyes is barely even a fraction of the person he is.

And that’s what hurts. That Nick can’t even hold a candle to Luke, and he still doesn’t think she should be with him.

“I said you’re not good for him, Julie. Not that you’re not good enough for him.”

Julie takes a step towards him, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “What’s the difference? Please, explain, Luke. Because obviously I’m not getting it.”

He hesitates. “H-he’s just wrong for you, Jules! I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“Why, Luke? If he’s so wrong for me, then who’s right for me? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like he’d fit into my life quite easily,” she says. “He’s nice and he loves music and he’d understand a touring schedule and he-”

It takes Julie a moment to process what cuts off her tangent. Only when she feels Luke’s hand cupping her jawline does she realize he’s kissing her, his other hand against the small of her back keeping her firmly in place.

Oh god.

He’s kissing her. He’s actually kissing her.

It’s over all too soon, Luke not even giving her enough time to properly kiss him back.

He doesn’t move out of her space though, eyes locked on hers as he gently strokes just under her bottom lip with his thumb, their shaky breaths mingling with one another.

Julie’s entire face feels hot, blood pounding in her ears as she tries to ground herself back in reality.

Did that really just happen?

“That’s why.”

“Oh.”

Oh?? She’s been waiting years for this moment and all she can say is oh??

Luke seems disappointed in her response too, his shoulders sagging once more, the kicked puppy face making another appearance only this time it’s so much worse because he’s completely misinterpreting her response.

“Luke I-”

“Fire department, call out!”

He shoots her a sad yet understanding smile as he releases her from his grip, and Julie just wants to scream and tell him how long she’s waited for something like that to happen, but she can’t. Their first priority has to be getting out. Everything else will have to wait.

“We’re in here!” Julie calls back to the firefighters, her eyes never leaving Luke’s.

From there, time seems to move slow and fast all at once. It takes another fifteen minutes before the rescue squad is finally able to open the bathroom door, and when they do they hurry them out of the house and she and Luke barely have time to hug Flynn, Alex and Reggie before they’re being ushered over to the awaiting EMTs for a routine medical exam.

They clear Julie quickly, but keep Luke a bit longer to inspect the wound on his head.

Julie waits off to the side with her friends, keeping a close eye on him, too wired to think about anything other than that kiss and finally clearing the air with Luke.

Finally, the EMT walks away and Luke stands up from the back of the ambulance, and Julie wastes no time in beelining over to him, cutting Flynn off in mid conversation.

Luke’s eyes widen as he sees her approaching, a nervous smile pulling at his lips.

“Good news, I don’t need stitches. They just said to-”

This time Julie’s the one to cut him off, wrapping her arms around his neck as she tugs him down to her level to finally, finally kiss him properly. In the way she’s always wanted to.

He hums in surprise, but it doesn’t last long before he’s kissing her back, his own arms snaking around her waist to pull her even closer.

This. This feels right.

They finally pull away, not out of want but out of necessity for air.

“Oh,” Luke says, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

Julie giggles. “Yeah. Oh.”

“My god, finally!”

The pair pulls away to look back at their friends, Flynn’s hand covering Reggie’s mouth as his punishment for breaking their moment.

“Sorry,” Flynn says, shooting them a bright smile. “Ignore him. Please keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Seriously,” Alex chimes in. “If we knew all it would take was an earthquake to get you two together, we would have summoned one a long time ago.”

Julie groans, tucking her face into Luke’s chest. “Oh my god, the teasing is going to be nonstop from here on out.”

Luke chuckles, hooking a finger under her chin to lift her head and look into her eyes.

“It’s fine. We just made it through an earthquake together. Pretty sure we can survive anything.”

And then he kisses her again.

[softomi]

Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen. 

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

[coltsbitch]

small world ~ colt grice x reader

colt grice x reader; 3.7k words; nsfw summary: colt didn’t purposely sleep with falco’s teacher

masterlist

Colt is a responsible person. He’s caring, polite, never late. All the qualities of a good person.

He is not the type of person to fuck his younger brother’s third grade teacher.

But let’s back track to that night.

Colt had finally given into Porco’s insistent pestering, who had even roped Reiner in to watching Falco for the night and let himself be dragged to a bar.

“Alright, who’s the prey for tonight?”

Colt grimaces, “I thought we were here to drink.”

Porco slaps a hand on Colt’s back, “How long has it been since you got laid?”

Colt rolls his eyes, and shrugs off Porco’s hand, “Kind of hard when you have custody of a nine-year-old.”

“Pokko, leave Colt alone.” Pieck sets down the drinks she retrieved from the bar, “We’re just happy you could come out tonight.”

“Thanks, Pieck.” It had been a rough year and a half for the Grice brothers, losing both their parents in one night and Colt having to drastically shift his life in order to care for Falco. Not that he’s bitter about, would give his life for Falco if he had to, but doesn’t make it any easier.

“But if you are looking for someone, I have a couple friends I could set you up with?”

Colt groans, dropping his head into his hand.

“Babe, he doesn’t need a relationship, he needs a fuck.”

Pieck raises her brow, “And what do you have against relationships, Porco?”

Porco’s eyes widen hearing his full name come from Pieck’s mouth, “Nothing! Nothing babe!” He pulls her into his lap, “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Pieck scoffs before returning her attention to Colt, “So what’s new?”

The three spend the next couple hours catching up, Colt filling them on Falco, Porco making lewd jokes, and Pieck reprimanding him with swats to his head.

By Colt’s third drink Pieck’s eyes are dropping and she’s practically asleep on Porco’s shoulder, who’s trying to shake her awake.

“Such a light wight.” Porco is muttering, but there’s a lace of affection, “You don’t mind if we head out?”

Colt waves him off, “I’ll probably finish this last one and then get home too.”

Porco nods, “Let me know when you get home.” Colt smiles at his friend who underneath many layers of roughness, is truly a caring guy.

Colt watches as Porco practically carries Pieck out the door. He picks at the label on his bottle, wondering if Falco is asleep by now or if Reiner indulged him with too many sweets and might still be bouncing off the walls.

Colt downs the rest of his drink and moves to stand but is interrupted from his thoughts when someone slides into booth across from him.

“You get ditched too?”

Colt freezes, “I, what?”

You crinkle you nose, “Sorry, that’s probably weird. I just saw your friends leave and thought, that’s something we have in common.”

Colt doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Because here sitting in front of him is this gorgeous woman who quite literally came out of nowhere. And maybe it’s the alcohol making his eyesight fuzzy around the edges, but you look like a goddess with the neon lights of the bar hanging over you.

You bite your lip, hoping to still salvage this, “I’m ___.” You extend your hand, glad to see he is at least able to shake it back.

“I’m Colt. Sorry.” He shakes his head, “Just wasn’t expecting anyone else.” He gives an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “Umm, so your friends left you?”

You settle into the booth, “Yeah. It was supposed to be my post break up girl’s night, but they all quickly found someone else to spend it with.”

“Sorry about the breakup?”

You wave your hand, “I’m over it. Cheating bastard wasn’t worth my time anyway. But what about you? You part of the lonely hearts club too?”

Colt laughs, “No, I mean, I guess I am. But it’s just been a rough year.”

You hum, and Colt’s thankful you don’t press further, not wanting to unload on the first pretty girl who’s looked his way in the last year, “Let me buy you a drink?”

Colt opens his mouth to politely decline, thinking about Reiner who’s waiting at his apartment for him to get back. But there’s something about the small smile on your face and shinning eyes that has him following you to the bar where you order two beers for each of you.

Now Colt will be honest, he knows he’s pretty helpless when it comes to flirting. Never quite sure what to say or how to say it. He’s watched his friends for years, even tried to get lessons from Zeke when he was in high school, but it’s all been for naught.

So with the way you’re laughing at all his jokes, even the one he knows aren’t that funny, and your knee that keeps knocking into his, or how you’ll accidentally place your hand on top of his before quickly pulling back.

There’s no way this is all in his head.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick. You’re not going to bail on me, are you?”

“I’ll be right here when you get back.” Colt smiles. You bite your lip giving him a once over, causing Colt to flush under your gaze.

You nod and walk in the direction of the restrooms, and Colt throws a glance over his shoulder, seeing that you’re already looking at him as you push the door open.

What the fuck is he doing?

Colt needs to get home. He needs to prep Falco’s lunch for tomorrow, the laundry needs to be moved to the dryer, double check Falco’s homework, not to mention finish that project his supervisor has been hounding him for at work.

But Colt glances over his shoulder again and sees you still haven’t left the bathroom.

Fuck. Is he going to do this? That was a clear signal, right?

Colt flexes his hands a couple times before standing from his seat and making his way to the restrooms. It’s in a dark corner of the bar, and he double checks that no one is looking before pushing open the door.

You’re standing there with your arms crossed leaning against the sink. Your head pops up at the sound of the door opening and a grin splits out onto your face.

“Fuck.” You say, “I wasn’t sure if I was being obvious enough.”

Colt stands awkwardly, “I’m glad I wasn’t misreading it.”

You grab Colt’s hand and pull him into one of the stalls, locking the door behind you.

“What if we get caught?” Colt whispers.

You shrug, “I guess we’ll have to be quick.” You chew on your lip watching Colt process your words and the situation he’s found himself in.

He nods, face determined, looking like he’s about to enter a war or something. You giggle at his seriousness, threading your fingers through his belt loops and pulling him flush against your body.

Deciding the best way to move this along is to get right to it. Pressing your lips against his you wrap your arms around his waist, hands finding their way past his shirt, and you’re surprised to find the taught muscles that hide underneath.

Colt cups your cheeks and it’s sweet, the way he kisses you deeply. But that’s not why you seduced him into this grimy bathroom stall.

You sneak your hand down to his ass, gripping one cheek and giving it a tight squeeze, which earns you a desperate whimper and a sharp grind.

You let out a surprised laugh that turns into a moat when one of Colt’s hands lifts your leg around his hip and pins you against the stall. Colt pulls away to gasp and you use the opportunity to begin your assault on his neck.

He has to press his hand into the stall above you to ground himself, the kisses you trail along his neck not letting him think straight, but he needs to get this one thought out before he can continue anything.

“Wait, wait.” Colt puts a little distance between your bodies, “I don’t want you to think, I mean, I can’t commit to anything right now.”

You humor him with a smile, “Colt. I’m about to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom, I’m not looking for a proposal or anything.”

“Oh, okay. Good, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Colt’s cheeks darken, “Made out with someone I met thirty minutes ago? No.”

You run your hand down his chest, and back up behind his neck, “I hope we’ll end up doing more than just making out.”

“Umm, right.” Colt grunted, “Uh, do you have a condom?”

You smile and pick up your purse dropped at your feet, pulling out the latex square. Colt reaches to take it from your hand, but you pull your hand back, “Let me.”

Colt swallows and nods, watching as you reach down to his belt, undoing the buckle. You work your speedy hands, unzipping his pants and pushing down his underwear.

You glance up as you’re ripping open the package, but Colt isn’t looking at you. His eyes are transfixed on where your one hand is resting close to his newly exposed cock. Taking pity, you grasp his shaft, giving a firm tug.

Colt shudders and thrusts into your hand, “Please.” He whines.

You roll the condom down his cock, rolling your thumb over the head when it’s situated, before turning around to face the door.

A beat passes and you glance over your shoulder wondering what the holdup is.

Colt’s cheeks are a dark pink as he stares at you.

“Well?” You ask, pressing your ass into his crotch.

Colt grabs your hips to hold you still. He doesn’t want this to be over before you even have your pants off.

The two of you work together to lower your jeans, pushing them down to your knees. He traces the line of your panties with a delicate finger, captivated by the pretty lace.

“Maybe if you do a good job, I’ll let you keep them.” You tease.

Colt chokes on a laugh, realizing you caught him in his transfixed state. He pulls down the lace to bundle with your jeans and can’t help himself when he reaches around your hip and dips a finger into your folds.

You moan at the contact when he brushes against your clit that’s been ignored all night. You don’t have anything to grab onto as he spreads the wetness along your cunt, so you ball your hands into tight fists.

“So wet.” Colt praises in astonishment, “Barely touched you.” He pushes two fingers into your cunt and thickness has you curling your toes.

“C’mon.” You whine, “We’re running out of time.” You’re really just desperate for his damn cock to fill you up already, but you don’t want to beg.

“Fuck.” Colt mutters, as if realizing he can’t take his time like he wants to, like you deserve.

Pulling your hips back and pushing you down a little, Colt lines himself up. The heat radiating from your pussy makes his head spin a little. But he pushes himself in slowly, inch by inch. And you have to stand there and take it, the door in front of you making it impossible to escape.

He lets out a groan when he bottoms out, and you squirm as his balls brush against your clit.

Colt’s arm wraps around your stomach, pulling you up against him as starts to thrust shallowly.

One of your hand flies to his arm, nails digging in when he hits a spot deep in you. Still bracing yourself against the door you let you head fall forward trying to suppress a groan.

Colt shushes you, kissing the back of your neck, “Need to keep quiet, right?” You nod meeting his thrusts, a particularly sharp thrust making you clench and Colt moans into your hair.

“I thought we needed to be quiet.” You tease.

Colt has a snarky comment on his tongue but holds it back when the door opens, sound from the bar spilling in. You both freeze. It’s pretty obvious what’s happening if someone were to look under the crack of the door, but you’re also in the last stall.

Both of your hearts are beating loudly in your chests as the sounds of someone washing off spilled beer on their shirt reaches you.

“Quiet.” Colt whispers in your ear that has you nodding along. But the thrill of getting caught reignites the flame in your core and you can’t even stop your body from rolling back on his cock.

“Fuck.” You harshly mutter, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The feeling only amplified when Colt shoves his fingers in your mouth, the same fingers that were deep in your cunt, now covered in your cream that’s assaulting your senses.

Your muffled moans test Colt’s patience while he waits for the person to exit the bathroom. And the second he hears the door shut, he’s slamming into you with a speed and power you didn’t think the blushing man had in himself.

“Such a tease.” Colt gets out between clenched teeth, his hands sliding down your front to rub tight circles at your clit.

You squeak at the sensation, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer, clenching and spasming around his cock that has Colt tipping over the edge with you. But Colt doesn’t let up, thrusting through his orgasm and still playing with your clit.

“Colt!” You yelp, having to rip his hand away from your body, unable to withstand the stimulation any longer. But he grabs your hand and locks it against the bathroom stall while he gives you a few more hard thrusts.

You cry out, tears filling your eyes while he slows behind you. Colt presses a kiss to your cheek as he pulls out, and you miss the fullness. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. You can feel Colt behind you trying to situate himself. Even going as far to pull your pants up for you too.

You huff out a laugh at his chivalry, “What a gentleman.” You tease, buttoning your pants, “I guess you don’t want my panties then?” You ask over your shoulder.

Colt blushes, which warms your chest, as if he wasn’t just balls deep in you, “So it was good then?”

You turn to press a kiss to his cheek, “Yeah, you did good.”

“Good.” Colt nods, “Umm, it was for me too.”

You smile at his awkwardness, “Good. So, did you want to finish our drinks?”

Colt’s face drops, “I should probably get home, actually. But maybe,”

“No worries.” You wave him off, ignoring and not dwelling on why that disappoints you a little. You unlock the door and step out of the stall, glad to see you’re still alone.

Colt follows you out and looks like he wants to say more but decides against it, “Right. I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe.” You look over your shoulder at the door, “I’ll go out first?” Colt nods, “Okay, well. Thanks again, for everything.”

Colt smiles and you feel a little weak in the knees and like you could go for another round all over again. Readjusting your purse, you press a quick kiss to Colt’s lips before heading out the door, not looking back. And Colt isn’t surprised when he returns to the bar to see you’ve already left, but none the less slightly disappointed at the fact.

Colt manages to make it home just a little after midnight. He quietly opens and closes the door, praying not to wake anyone. Reiner is sitting in the on the couch watching a silent television.

“Falco asleep?” Colt whispers, toeing off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the hook.

Reiner nods and flips off the television, “Crashed a couple hours ago. He was trying to stay up until you got home, but just couldn’t do it.”

Colt feels a brief flash of guilt but shakes it away.

“Thanks again. I know Porco roped you into it, but thanks.” Colt isn’t good at accepting help from others, especially when it comes to Falco, but his friends usually don’t take no for an answer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner waves him off, “You have fun tonight?”

Colt shrugs, “It was nice.”

Reiner gives a noncommittal hum, eyeing Colt as he pauses at the door, “Might want to wash the lipstick off your neck before getting into bed.” Colt chokes on nothing as Reiner’s shoulders shake with laughter, “See ya later.”

The rest of the weekend Colt tries and fails to push you from his thoughts. Yeah, he was the one who made it clear it was a one-time thing, and maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in so long, but he’s really wishing he had at least asked for your phone number.

Monday morning he drives Falco to school, and he’s contemplating texting Porco about going to the same bar again this weekend, with the off chance you might be there again.

“Bye Colt!” Falco screams slamming the door. Colt winces at the sound, swearing one of these days that boy was going to break off the door. Out of habit he checks the back seat, and Colt has to repress a groan when he sees Falco left behind his superhero lunchbox.

Colt peers out the window to see Falco is already long gone, somewhere in the mess of children who are running around the playground for the few minutes they have before the bell rings.

He knows he’ll get a tearful phone call later if he doesn’t get the lunch box to Falco, so Colt resigns himself to being late to work and pulls into the parking lot.

Lunch box in hand Colt walks towards the playground, hoping that Falco will see him and make this detour faster than it needs to be. Colt is fiddling with the lock, making sure it’s secure which makes him walk straight into the playground monitor.

“Shit.” Colt mutters “Sorry, I wasn’t watching-” But the rest dies in his throat when he sees it’s you standing in the bright orange vest.

You’re just as surprised to see Colt standing in front of you. Thrown and honestly a little concerned as why the fuck he would be here at your elementary school.

“Colt?” You ask.

“Umm. Hi?”

You give him a once over, appreciating the button down and slacks he’s wearing today, also taking note of the children’s lunch box in his hands. A bit too old to be at this school, but also a little too young to have a child here, you think.

“Colt!” You both turn at the sound, and you realize it’s one of your sweetest students sprinting towards you, calling his name.

Falco comes to a halt, “Is that my lunch box?” He asks, grabbing it before Colt can even answer.

“You forgot it.” Colt is able to choke out, eyes jumping back and forth between you and Falco.

Falco follows his older brother’s eyes and realizes you’re standing with them. Somehow having missed the vibrant orange safety vest you have thrown around you shoulders, honestly making you a little self-conscious that this is what Colt is seeing you in after this weekend.

Not that you care what he thinks of you. You’re not looking for anything right now.

“Ms.___?” Falco pulls on your hand, “Do you know Colt?” You open your mouth, unsure how to respond, not like you could explain it to the nine-year-old.

“I’m Falco’s brother.” Colt sticks out his hand, which seems like an overkill to you since he’s literally been inside you.

“Oh.” You say, taking his hand, well aware of the Grice family situation. And your heart clenches at the thought, making a little bit more sense why he was so firm about letting you know Friday night was a onetime thing.

You’re spared from saying anything when the bell rings, signaling the start of school.

“Sounds like you better get to class.” Colt tells Falco.

Falco pouts, sad he wasted his last few minutes talking to his brother and teacher, “Okay.” But still takes the time to hug his brother, “Thanks for my lunch box!” Before sprinting towards the entrance.

You clear your throat, “Falco’s a good student.” Mentally face palming yourself for the awkward comment.

Colt’s eyes widen, “You’re Falco’s teacher?” You nod while Colt mutters out a curse, earning a giggle from you, “This is awkward, right?”

You nod, “A little.” You chew on your lip, unsure what to say, but realize most of the students have cleared out, and it’s probably not the best to leave your thirty students unsupervised for too long, “Well, I need to-”

“I know this-”

You both stop while the other tries to talk, quietly laughing. “You go.”

Colt rubs the back of his neck, “I know we both agreed to a one-time thing, but I think I’d hate myself if I didn’t ask for your number.”

Your mouth parts, “Oh.” And Colt flushes, “Umm.” You avert your eyes, “It’s just, your brother is in my class and I try not to mix personal life with work.” You stumble over your words.

Colt flushes further, “Right, sorry. That was rude of me to ask, especially here.” Colt glances at the ground.

You chew on your lip, still thinking it over. It’s not that you don’t want to see Colt again. But he is the guardian of one of your students and you just got out of long relationship, not looking to jump into another right away.

“Maybe I can get yours?” You offer, and Colt’s head shoots up, eyes a little wide, “I mean, incase Falco forgets his lunch again?” A small smile playing on your lips, holding your phone out.

“Right.” Colt agrees, typing his number in, “He’s very forgetful. And it’s not like he’ll be in your class forever.” Colt says but it comes across as a hopeful question.

You have to bite your cheek to keep from smiling too wide at his forwardness, accepting your phone back, “I’ll see you around Colt.”

[samwilsondiaries]

; welcome home

PART I — PART II (soon)

© @pietro-maximoff

sam wilson x fem!reader. masterlist.

summary. sam comes back home after being a week in europe, not replying to your calls or text messages.

words. ± 1.3k.

warnings, tags. after tfatws 1x04!reader insert, more or less. nsfw, +18!!! nothing really smutty, just a few touches and language.

a / n: none of my stories contain reader's body descriptions to be inclusive.

You couldn't help but feel worried after what you watched on the news. Sam left almost a week ago, asking you to stay with Sarah in Louisiana until he was back, only wanting to protect you. In the hospital, your boss gave you a sabbatical month, after collecting too many personal days. But being locked in Delacroix was eating you alive, carrying your phone wherever you used to go, waiting for a call or a message from your boyfriend that never came.

Helping your sister-in-law to extend the fishing net all over the floor to clean it from algae and trash, you weren't able to ignore it and to not check your notifications again. Nothing more than some emails and posts on your social media. Sarah puckered her lips disappointed for how his brother was behaving when she watched you sighing. She knew his ass was in big trouble, that was for sure. At least, help her with the family business kept your mind occupied the whole day, and it wasn't too bad to spend time with your nieces. They adored you and you used to have so much fun.

“I'm gonna put the boys to sleep”. Sarah informed you, coming into the kitchen while you were finishing your second glass of red wine. “You okay? Has he replied?”

“Nope”. You mumbled, taking another sip.

“He'll be okay”.

You knew it. Sam could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you were aware of how hard he was. Your sister-in-law gave you a tight hug and left a kiss on your cheek before going upstairs to finish her day with some good sleep. She deserved it after too much work. On the contrary, you stayed there sitting at the dinner table, spinning your glass as if it could make it fill up by itself magically. Like every night, you used to wait an hour before heading to Sam's old room and try to sleep for a couple of hours, mostly waking up every thirty minutes to check your phone again. You weren't understanding why he hadn't replied to any of your texts, at least, with an emoji.

“Baby…”

The whisper dragged you back to reality with just one push, abruptly turning on your chair to the back door in the kitchen. Sam was there, standing in silence with a hand rested on the knob. He didn't seem hurt in any way, but he knew you probably would give him a silent treatment until he compensated you enough. Pressing your lips together and frowning, hiding how much you desired to hug him, kiss him and tell him how much you had missed him, you turned again to face your glass of wine.

Behind your position, you heard him heavily sighing while closing the door. His steps came closer, taking a seat on the chair next to yours. A shiver ran down your backbone when his right knee touched slightly yours, putting your head to the opposite side of his. Sam was conscious that telling you he was too occupied to use his phone only would make it worse, stretching his hand above the table to hold your free one. He was aware of what a simple touch from him could cause on you, taking it in advantage as you sniffed back your frustrated want to cry and yell at him.

“I've misse—”.

“Fuck that, Samuel. And fuck you”. Interrupting him with such a painful hiss, you stood up to empty the glass in one gulp, walking towards the sink to leave it inside.

After what happened with the blip, the minimal thought of losing him generated you a kind of anxiety that suffocated you till making you pass out. Five years. You had been looking for your soulmate for five years. You waited for him, even praying to God to bring him back to you. And when he did, he promised you to never leave again. A week without a single report from him wasn't exactly a way to keep it.

You supported part of your weight against the counter, with both of your hands tightly gripping the edge of it, bowing your head down. Sam pressed his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue, not being sure of what to do. He knew he screwed what he pact with you, even if it wasn't his intention. Believing that it was better if there wasn't any more distance between the two of you, he got up from his chair to reach you in two strides. Your boyfriend urged you to turn around and face him, but you tilted away your head not wanting to look at him.

Crossing both arms on your chest to let him know with your posture that you were more sad than angry, Sam placed his hands on the sides of your neck, cleaning a wild tear running down your cheek by using his thumb.

“You're the only thing in my mind when we're not together”. He guaranteed you, looking for your reddened eyes. “I'm sorry. I truly am… Look at me, please, baby”.

“I saw it on the news, Samuel. I saw what that Captain America did. And you were there, standing next to James. Don't ask me to not be worried”. You spoke then with so much rage still stuck in your throat.

“We will talk about it tomorrow, I promis—”.

“You promise. That's what you said the last time and look at my phone. Nothing. Nothing from you in days”. You reproached him, clicking your tongue and interrupting him again.

“Then, I don't promise. I assure you I'll answer any question you have tomorrow”. His orbs stayed in place, not moving a single minimal inch from yours.

You didn't reply. No word came from your mouth. Mouth that he didn't hesitate to bring to his. Sam only gave you an ephemeral kiss, causing you to close your eyes just like him. A sneak peek of what was about to happen. It was no more than a second when you were devouring each other's lips. Desperate, eagerly. His tongue soon invaded your cavity, drinking the sweet moan you couldn't retain as his left hand went straight down your ass. He squeezed it making you slightly lean upon your bare tiptoes, as he made his way to between your legs.

The heat started to strangle you when he slid his free hand under your shirt to grip it around one of your boobs, freeing it from your bra. Your tongue continued fighting his, not caring about the lack of air within your lungs, as you rocked your needed core against the lump growing beneath the rough fabric of his jeans. Sam grunted against your lips, wishing for an instant to be in your kitchen and not in his sister's, so he could simply rip off your clothes and fuck like two animals in heat. He needed to control himself, but he just simply couldn't, hearing your lower pleasing vocals.

“No, no, no, please, Sam...” You sobbed in a whisper, tangling your fingers in his shirt when he tried to take a step back.

“Shit, baby girl… You drive me insane”. He uttered into your ear as your mouth landed on his neck. Kissing, biting, and pulling up his skin between your teeth.

Sam's hands pawed your body strongly, pressing your body against the counter to make you feel what you caused on him. Having to take care of not being heard or caught on action just turned him on high-sky, but he was conscious that it wouldn't be a good scene for his nieces.

“C'mon… lemme take you to my room”. He asked you, finally settling some distance barely breathing, holding your hand to quickly guide you upstairs.

a / n: thank you for reading! if you liked it, please, leave a comment and reblog it, i'd really appreciate it.

tag list: @whoreforsamwilson @naboo-nights @natashadeservedbetter @lazypeachsoul @phoenixhalliwell @wanniiieeee @morganayenneferburnham @puthyprincess @superhoeva @edencherries @fookinsuckmecockmate @peterssweetpea @pixieyosi @marvel-diaries @bionicbarnes @jamiereads @missroro @loudbluepancake @iinvisiblewings @strawb3rrydr3ss @mariahthelioness29 @tlcwrites @shizzybarnaclee @teti-menchon0604 @reichelhache @mack-jay @harami-mami

you can add yourself to my tag list in the link you'll find in the masterlist.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.

That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.

Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.

In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.

The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.

He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.

And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.

He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.

For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.

A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.

Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.

The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.

Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.

They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.

“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”

Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.

“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.

“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.

“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.

“Can I hear you, baby boy?”

He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.

He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.

“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.

“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.

Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.

So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.

It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.

As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.

So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.

He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.

He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.

Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.  

In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.

“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”

Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.

“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”

He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.  

“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”

“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”

“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.

“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”

“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.

“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.

“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.

“Good boy.”

“You know I am.”

“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”

MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game.  They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.

Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.  

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”

That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that?  The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?

He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.

That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–

Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing –  he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.

It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.

But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.

Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.

He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.

He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.

Well, none except for one.

“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.

“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.

“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”

He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.

“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”

Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:

“I need to see you.”

Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–

“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.

Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!

Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.

Right?

“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”

Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.

Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.

But.

Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.

“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”

That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.

Right?

“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.

“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–  

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”

Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.

Some other times, it felt good to forget.

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone  

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary:  A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

 Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up.  The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8 

 “Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none. 

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in. 

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

 “ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

 “I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first.  Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

 “What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars. 

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!” 

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could. 

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him. 

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear. 

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine. 

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger.  Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen  hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned. 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind. 

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia. 

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw. 

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her.  Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips.  “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.  “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World.  And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked. 

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

[curvynerdfan]

Danny Zuko would never

Hey y’all! I am so sorry I haven’t posted in so long. Life drug me down into a routine of chaos to be quite honest. I can’t remember if this was inspired by a request or not so I apologize if I have forgotten to tag you. 

Jax x Reader 

Friends to Lovers, Sandy level makeover 

Warnings: cursing, mentions of addiction

Y/N was having a blast! Her and Gemma decided to drive into San Jose to shop for new clothes. Y/N worked with a non-profit medical assistance center in the pediatrics wing. She was off for the next four days and tomorrow was the Charming Fall Festival. Gemma had been really struggling lately, with her and Clay’s breakup and worrying about Jax now that he was President. 

Y/N was so happy Gemma asked her to join in on the shopping trip. The club mom had a habit of pushing the young nurse out of her comfort zone. Y/N was almost always in scrubs, jeans and oversized clothes. Not that it was a bad wardrobe, it worked for her purposes. But Y/N wanted to be daring and dress up a bit. Honestly she just wanted to catch Jax’s eye. Maybe even have a Sandra Dee at the Summer Carnival moment. 

Gemma said that Jax and Y/N were a pair of idiots, perfect for each other. Neither one realized they were interested in each other. No matter how much the people around them pointed it out the two remained oblivious. So when Y/N told Gemma that she was ready to do something bold, Gemma was over the moon with excitement. 

Y/N had never been the one to go over the top. Especially with her looks, but at this point she didn’t know what else to do to get Jax’s attention. She had money to burn and was ready to up her wardrobe. Gemma said if she wanted to get the title of Old Lady that they were gonna go all out. 

Y/N was suddenly very grateful that Jax insisted on sending Tig and Happy with them because she was not going to want to drive after the day Gemma planned out. Tig as Gemma’s go-to bodyguard and Happy as Y/N’s, all piled up into a Teller-Morrow rental. 

Gemma said that meant Jax already thought of her as his Old Lady, “Sending an enforcer, only happens for the President’s girl.” 

“Then why doesn’t he ask me out or claim me as his, huh? If he really thought that way then he’d do something!” Y/N protested 

“He cares for you and sent Happy! Make him step up and prove himself.” Gemma lectured.

Tig chimed in, “Sorry hun, Gem is right. Sgt. at Arms never gets sent with a random chick for a girls day, no matter how good a friend she is.” 

Happy let out a resounding hum in affirmation. Y/N gawked at the first shop they pulled up to at Gemma’s demand. It was a very nice vintage clothing and accessory store.

“I’ll buy you the first ten pieces of jewelry you find that fit a president’s Old Lady.” Gemma paused to laugh at Y/N’s shocked expression, “Move it or lose it sweet cheeks, offer ends in thirty minutes!” 

Y/N squealed and grabbed Happy’s arm tugging him along. While he was a man of few words, Y/N had a knack for deciphering his gruff responses and gestures. She knew he’d be great at helping her pick out some goodies. She’d hold a pair of earrings up to her face or model a chunky bracelet and depending on Happy’s response she’d add it to her basket or throw it away. 

By the time she met Gemma and Tig at the register she had collected a skull ring, a chain belt, crow studded earrings, a crescent moon necklace, a crow skull ring, an obsidian oval faced ring, a snake necklace, a pair of silver hoops, diamond stud earrings, and black dangle earrings. Gemma pried over the basket in judgement before giving a sharp nod and motioning Y/N to hand the items to the cashier. 

Y/N was happy to see that Gemma had found a few items to purchase for herself as well. While they were checking out Y/N saw several studded belts, a new mirror for her vanity, some vintage ashtrays and a gorgeous green glass vase. Gemma demanded that the boys load the car with her new purchases and locked arms with Y/N before strutting out of the shop. 

Next was a gigantic department store. Gemma dragged her through the store and repeatedly threw clothes at Happy and Tig to carry to a dressing room. By the time Gemma was done each woman had fifty or so items to try on and there were even a few things for the men to try on as well. 

They would all try on a complete outfit, step outside of the room, do a little spin or strut(stand and pout in Happy’s case), receive critiques or hype and then repeat. The boys ran out quickly and ended up lounging on a couch and offering opinions when asked. Gemma told Y/N that the goal was sophisticated grunge. She still wasn’t sure she understood, but she did feel very hot in everything they decided to buy. 

Next was shoes.Y/N decided to only buy four pairs and let everyone have a say.  Happy found Y/N the best pair of riding boots for women, Tig picked out some dagger-like heels, Gemma picked a pair of knee high heeled boots and Y/N picked white sneakers that matched the ones she bought Jax a few years ago. 

Last stop was a nail salon. Gemma sent Y/N straight to the back room to get waxed. When Y/N gave her a look and squawked at her, Gemma just twirled her finger and said to “do what needs to be done”. When Y/N stumbled back out of the room, Gemma had a mimosa waiting for her. 

Y/N couldn’t commit to long nails or a dark color due to her job but it was still nice to be pampered after such a long and challenging day. While getting their nails done, the girls talked through what Y/N should wear the next night for the carnival. The three pros of MC life gave Y/N a few pointers on how to own being an old lady. This still made Y/N scoff and worry that everyone was wrong. 

----------------------- 

The carnival was finally here and Jax was excited for some much needed time off with his family and friends. Gemma wanted to watch Abel for the night. This meant he could really relax and let loose tonight. No worries about staying out too late for his little man or limiting his alcohol or weed. It was gonna be great. 

At least, til he saw Y/N walking up, “What the hell are you wearing?” 

Y/N looked different, that’s for sure. She knew she didn’t look bad though. She had on a tight black wrap-around long-sleeve crop top, ripped jeans with fishnets underneath and the white sneakers she picked out. She even threw on some of the goodies that Gemma bought her. She cinched her waist in with the chain belt, the crow studs and skull ring added to the alure. Her hair was curled and she did her makeup, highlighting her sparkling eyes with black eyeliner and her plump lips with a deep red lipstick. 

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, holding back remorse for dressing up. 

“You look like a, shit, who are you dressed up for?” Jax questioned. 

“Why does it have to be for someone? Can’t I look hot without it being for someone,” Y/N put a hand on her hip, beginning to get pissed. 

“You look like you’re trying to lock a member down! Got your eyes set on one of the guys huh? You’ve been hanging around Happy a lot lately, trying to be his old lady?” He prodded. 

“Dammit Jax! I had my eyes set on you but I guess I can’t be your old lady unless I am pining desperately for you to rescue me! Maybe I need a stalker or some form of addiction for you to realize I like you” Y/N screamed, stomping off. 

Y/N knew that was uncalled for but her anger got the better of her but not even Danny Zuko would pull this kind of douche move. It definitely wasn’t going the way she thought it would. While she didn’t necessarily believe the others when they said Jax was interested, it hurt that he was so offended by her looks. Her eyes began to sting as she pondered why she even considered making a move. 

Jax lost his breath when Y/N yelled at him. He quickly got it back when a ringed had slammed into the back of his head. When he whipped his head around he saw a pissed off Gemma staring him down. 

“Remember how you sent Happy and Tig with us yesterday? She spent the entire buying stuff because she wanted to look like an old lady. She did that for you. We all encouraged her because everyone here sees how y’all feel about each other except the two of you. If you don’t wanna be with her, cut it off now and stay at the table. But if you want her to be your old lady like we know you do, you better chase after her.”, his mom said, matter-of-factly. 

Jax stared at her with his mouth open. He was still in shock. He always saw Y/N as his but didn’t think she would want to be with him. When she left for college, he thought he lost his chance. She came back and he was with Wendy. She dated some uppity guys here and there, he assumed that was her type and she was ready to settle down. So when Tara decided to stay in Charming and he saw Y/N out on another date, he chose to go back to Tara. 

To think that he and Y/N could have been together for years now was making his head run circles around his heart. The fact that she did all of this to be with him permanently seemed ridiculous to him. She could have just told him, but looking back she must have been trying for years. The dedication to him and the club wasn’t out of friendship but love. 

“Fuck”, Jax let slip from his lips as he hopped off of the table he was sitting on. 

He marched off on a mission, searching for Y/N. He stomped through the happy crowd and scanned the flashing neon lights with his eyes. He was pissed at himself. He knew his mom was right too, if he didn’t show his feelings now he and Y/N didn’t have a chance in hell. He just hoped he could find her. 

Y/N stopped at the ferris wheel. Her eyes were still stinging but she refused to cry, especially in front of all these people. She would either get up in the air and cry or calm down. She was losing it on the inside. Every single person she talked to said Jax felt the same way, but Jackson’s reaction was the opposite of what was expected. 

Y/N was at the front of the line when Jax finally tracked her down. Jax picked up his pace and managed to get to the ticketer as she got in on her own. Jax shoved a handful of cash into the operators hands when he protested and hopped in with her and shut the door behind him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Jackson?” Y/N huffed

Jax flinched at the use of his full name, “I fucked up. Can we talk?” 

“It doesn’t matter, you trapped me with you. You got one loop to convince me to stay on the ride with you”, she demanded. 

Y/N was pissed. First, Jax insulted her and asked her if she was trying to nail one of his guys and now he wouldn’t even let her cry it out on her own. She was waiting for him to pull the “let her down easy” lines she knew the man had memorized. Except with Y/N it was going to be… 

“We have been friends for as long as I remember. I didn’t realize that you felt that way about me.” 

Y/N cut Jax off, “Look, we don’t have to do this. I’m trying to keep my shit together but I’d rather not do this right now.” 

Confusion graced Jax’s face, “No, I, I’m trying to explain. It’s not what you think.” 

“I’m pretty sure it is, Jax. You made your point earlier, if I want to be an old lady I should look to Happy and or another member.”, Y/N ranted, this last thing she wanted was to dig into why Jax didn’t want to be with her. 

“Dammit Y/N! I am trying to tell you that I love you, too!” Jax shouted, losing it for a moment. 

He pulled Y/N in for a kiss, one had cupped her face and the other pulled Y/N onto his lap. Y/N was shocked at Jax’s announcement and even more so at his lips on hers. 

By the time Jax and Y/N had finished a loop, she was happy to stay on the ferris wheel with him. By the time the ride had ended they had become a couple and managed to mark their claims on each other. By the time the duo made it back to the crew’s table, the group began to hoop and holler. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and ducked her head into Jax’s arm while he received high fives and slaps on the back in congratulations. 

“Let me know when to expect another grandbaby!”, Gemma said with glee as she walked past the happy couple with a sleepy Abel in her arms. 

To say the least, Momma Gemma is the best

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked. 

The bastard. 

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose. 

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again. 

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.” 

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered. 

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief. 

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief. 

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “  But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned. 

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “ 

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?” 

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

 “He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?” 

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...” 

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes. 

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve. 

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. 

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious. 

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough. 

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe. 

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about. 

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive. 

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at. 

“Oh my  fuck...”  I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen. 

It was a drawing of me. 

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs. 

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple . 

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry. 

I was just ridiculously turned on. 

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me. 

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face. 

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out. 

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me. 

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive. 

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him. 

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork . 

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised. 

Surprised but not particularly bothered. 

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic. 

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot. 

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped. 

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin. 

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned. 

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually. 

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream. 

“Areum, I-” 

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled. 

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise. 

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file. 

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her. 

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.” 

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second. 

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away. 

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him. 

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out. 

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth. 

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him. 

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but  me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped. 

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly. 

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually. 

I laughed in disbelief. 

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually. 

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped. 

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain. 

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him. 

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ” 

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. 

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out. 

“And I get to use my toy box.” 

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously. 

“You know the one...Big mahogany box  underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags. 

I shuddered. 

Nope. 

This wasn’t working. 

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.” 

The audacity of this bitch. 

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out,  but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free. 

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy  and  cute. 

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed . 

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?” 

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me. 

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt. 

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .  

I fought the urge to laugh . 

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....” 

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.” 

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed . 

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled. 

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck. 

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my  favorite  distraction.”

  I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun. 

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face. 

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy.... 

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply. 

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out. 

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly. 

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?” 

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down. 

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock ,  pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly. 

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center. 

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke. 

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me. 

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me. 

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter. 

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works. 

taglist : @veronawrites @aamxxrii  @brooky95

@apollukee

@ladyartemesia

@yoongisdragon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ if you guys wanna be on the taglist just lemme know...

[writingsonawall]

Falling, fallen chapter 1

Pairings: Spencer Reid x OFC

Story summary: Spencer randomly meets Leah at the library and their first encounter was supposed to be just that; a random one-time occurance. When an unsub lands Spencer in the very same hospital she works at, she feels obligated to take care of him. But what happens when his team notices her everlooming presence and theorises that perhaps she could be the unsub they’re looking for?

Chapter summary: The guy Leah had met at the library just an hour ago suddenly gets wheeled into the ER where she works. 

Warnings: Mention of blood, but not a lot.

Wordcount: 6,6 k

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Leah hadn’t even been on call for half an hour when a stretcher was rolled in through the doors of the ER, someone shouting “Male, early thirties! Gunshotwound to the lower abdomen.” That was about all she was able to concentrate on. The ER was a mess of chaos, every available doctor and nurse running between patients. People were running into each other, medicalequipments crashing onto the floor every now and then, some patients screaming out in pain… Leah could feel the beginning of a migraine sneaking up on her. She almost never worked in the ER, usually sticking to Post Op. or the ICU, but there had been a masscollision on the highway that night so it was kind of like an all hands on deck situation. 

Leah was currently working on picking out broken glass from the arm of an elderly woman. It wasn’t a terrible wound, but judging by the way it was bleeding she’d probably need stitches. Still, Leah had no idea why she was there. Her injuries weren’t lifethreatning and the ER was overcrowded with other patients who actually needed their attention more than this woman. She’d be just fine if she had gone to an urgent care, but Leah wasn’t about to argue.

 “Leah, I’m gonna need you with me in traumaroom 2.” Dr. Ruiz called over the noise and it gathered her attention. She caught his glance across the room and saw that he was following the stretcher which had just been brought in by the ambulance. Leah quickly mumbled her apologies to the woman, pulled off her gloves and started to navigate through the sea of chaos. She eventually pushed the doors of traumaroom 2 open, rubbing her hands dry from the sanitizer she’d covered them with. 

“What’s his status?” Leah asked once she entered, quickly making her way over to the man laying across the stretcher. She knew why Dr. Ruiz had called her in here. The patient was a gunshotvictim, which usually meant a lot of blood. Typically, in cases like this, there were two doctors to check the injuries and make medicaldecisions. Gunshotwounds were always messy and it was hard to know what to expect, so two doctors in the room was always ideal, just in case the patient were to crash or there was a lifethreatning injury. But currently all doctors seemed to be otherwise occupied, so Leah understood why Dr. Ruiz had called her in. Blood and gore never bothered her, it actually made her calmer. The more pressure she had on her shoulders, the calmer and more collected she stayed. She was on the traumateam for a reason, although be it as a nurse, so she had seen a thing or two in her past. 

“Oh my God, Spencer!” She exclaimed, surprised to discover the identity of the man sprawled out in front of her. She stood there frozen in place for a moment, wondering what had happened. She had left him at the library not even an hour previously and now he was here, blood pooling slowly from the open wound in his abdomen. 

The surprise only shocked her for a split second before she shook herself out of her thoughts. Stroking a hand over his forehead, she matted his mop of curls out his face. Using a thumb to force one of his eyelids open, she grabbed a small flashlight from the pocket of her scrubs. 

“Spencer, can you hear me?” She asked him, shining the light into his eyes a few times, watching for any sort of unusual reaction of his pupils. She did the same with the other eye. “Spencer?” She asked once more. He was out cold, but his pupils responded as expected so that made her a little more at ease. 

“You know him?” Dr. Ruiz asked over his shoulder, roaming through the cabinets to find all the equipments he’d need to fully check the injuries. 

“Well, kinda,” Leah answered, not knowing what else to say in that moment. There was no use to lie about the fact that she’d met him an hour earlier, but she didn’t exactly know him. 

“Are you gonna be okay with this or do you need to step out?” Dr. Ruiz asked her, finally returning to stand at Spencer’s other side. 

“I’m good,” Leah told him, probably a little too fast to sound convincing. But it was true, she was nothing if not professional. 

“Okay,” Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Ready to move him?” He asked and it was Leah’s turn to nod. She pushed the stretcher closer to the bed in the room as Dr. Ruiz got out of the way. Locking the breaks of the stretcher so it wouldn’t budge, she grabbed a tight hold of the sheet underneath Spencer as the doctor did the same on the other side. They locked eyes and counted. One, two, three. In a split second they had Spencer lifted onto the bed with such ease it looked like they had done it a hundred times before. Which they actually probably had. Dr. Ruiz was one of the doctors Leah worked closest with, since he was typically stationed at Post Op. When they were both on call, Leah was nomally the person Dr. Ruiz would call for if he needed help. They were kind of a dream team; a force to be reckoned with whenever they worked together. 

As the doctor started to cut Spencer’s shirt open, Leah wheeled the stretcher out into the hall to give them space. Locking the door behind her again, she quickly took a look at his medicalfile which another nurse had just delivered in her hand. 

“This is gonna hurt. Let’s push for 10mg Oxycodone,” Dr. Ruiz told her once she returned to Spencer’s side. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Cave morphine,” Leah told him as she started slicing Spencer’s shirt open from his sleeve up to his shoulder. 

“Addiction or allergy?” The dortor asked. 

“Addiction. Dilaudid,” Leah informed him, having just read it in his file. She had already snapped gloves onto her hands and was working on getting the IV-kit ready. “Tramadol would be a safer option, right?” Tramadol was usually the kind of drugs they’d give to patients after minor surgeries or injuries to manage the pain. It was hardly as effective as Oxy-preparations, but it  was usually still enough to take the edge off. They hardly ever used it before they were able to assess the pain level of the patients, but it still seemed to be the least addictive morphinecontaining drug they had at hand. And given Spencer’s injuries some sort of morphine was needed despite what his medicalfile said. He needed something for the pain and NSAIDs weren’t going to cut it in that moment. They could handle whatever addiction-problem he had later; when he wasn’t in a potential life-threatening situation.

Dr. Ruiz nodded his head acutely, ordering her to administer 50mg. Leah worked quickly, finding a usable vein in Spencer’s hand and poking the cannula into it. Taping it down onto his hand, she hooked a bag of ring acetate to the pole by the bed and connected the tube to the IV. She noticed Spencer twitching a little at that and she moved to stand over his head. 

“Spencer, are you awake?” She asked, once again matting his hair back. She noted, even through the gloves she was wearing, that he was warm and sweaty. “I’m gonna give you something for the pain, okay? It’s Tramadol, so I hope that’s okay,” she informed him, even though she highly doubted that he was coherent enough to register her words. She did as she’d said she’d do, pushing a needle Dr. Ruiz had readied for her into the IV-tube and slowly administered the drug. While the painkillers worked its way through his system, she leaned over to help Dr. Ruiz. She put pressure on the wound on his abdomen while the doctor probed around with an ultrasound, trying to look for anything that could indicate whether Spencer had an internal bleeding. 

It didn’t even take a minute before Spencer calmed down, his twitching stopping completely and his breathing evening out. She was glad for that, not wanting him to be more uncomfortable than necessary. 

“You paged me?” A woman's voice startled Leah and she turned to the door which was now wide open. She was another doctor, but Leah couldn’t really recall her name. Not that she really cared either. 

“Yes!” Dr. Ruiz said, tightening the bandage they had just wrapped around Spencer’s wound. It was still bleeding, but the wrappings should be able to hold for the transport to the OR. “GSW to the lower abdomen. Patient is non responding, but stable. No sign of internal bleeding, but I’m sure he needs surgery to remove that bullet,” Dr. Ruiz informed the other woman who nodded along. She moved further into the room and cast a quick look at Spencer, checking the vitals, pupil responses, making sure the oxygenprosentage of his mask was correct before she once again nodded. 

“I agree. He’s stable enough to be moved? Then we should wheel him down to Pre Op.,” she concluded. 

“I’ll go with him,” Leah found herself speaking before she could even register those thoughts. 

“No, no, no, Leah,” Dr. Ruiz said, laying a clean hand on her shoulder. “I need you here in the ER. I’ll go with him and I’ll keep you updated. Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine.” His words reassured her a little. It’s not like Spencer was a friend or anything, but she knew him enough to put a name to the face and that brought this whole case a little closer to home. But she let him go, knowing she was needed more in the ER. 

She kept her hands busy for the next two hours before Dr. Ruiz finally returned, hovering just behind her as she was working on trying to determine if she should send the teenager in front of her up to radiology or not. 

“He’s in surgery now,” Dr. Ruiz informed her, not giving a care to the boy Leah was inspecting. He cried out in pain when she moved his foot at an odd angle. 

“I think he needs to take a trip over to radiology. Do you mind signing the papers?” Leah asked the doctor, not wanting to talk about Spencer right now, especially not in front of another patient. She let Dr. Ruiz take over the patient, but she hovered around until they had sent the boy on his way. She cleaned up after herself and took a glance around the ER. It was getting quiet now. The rush of patients had died down now and she spotted several doctors and nurses just hanging around, chatting and taking a well deserved minibreak. 

“Come on,” Dr. Ruiz said, putting a gentle hand on Leah’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a quick coffee and then you can head up to the ICU.” Leah had never felt more relieved by the idea of a cup of the shitty coffee the hospital had to offer. She really needed coffee now. 

Leah had always liked Dr. Ruiz. She considered him a friend, at least a workfriend. It’s not just that they worked well together, but he was always very considerate; always being there if she needed a shoulder to cry on at the end of a hard day, pushing her to take a break because she always refused to, bringing her powerbars if there was a busy day and they didn’t have time for a real meal. He was nice and she liked how she could always lean on him. 

“I don’t actually know him,” Leah finally spoke up once they had both filled up their cups with the cheap stuff the vendingmachines wanted to pass as coffee. Dr. Ruiz didn’t say anything, just gave a gesture of his hand for her to continue. He leaned back against the wall of the corridor and Leah mirrored him. “We just met earlier today, actually. I forgot my librarycard at the library and he found it, handed it back. We just had a small conversation, nothing big. But then I got called in for the accident, so I had to leave. I mean, I’d seen him just an hour ago and then they wheeled him in,” she explained, not really knowing what to feel. 

“And what? You blame yourself or something?” He asked, clearly reading her mind. 

“No, not really,” she told him, which was an obvious lie. “I guess it just shocked me. I don’t know. I mean, maybe it could have been me. I don’t even know what happened to him, but I keep thinking that it could have been me. Or maybe if I had stayed a little longer then this wouldn’t have happened at all.” She hadn’t heard anything about what had actually happened. Maybe it had been a robbery gone wrong, or maybe there had been a shootout and he was in the middle of the crossfire. She didn’t suspect the last one since they hadn’t received any other gunshotwound-patients, but the possibilities were still endless. All she knew was that he was brought in with a bullet in his abdomen and that he would hopefully pull through. 

“You know, you should really stop thinking like that. It’s not healthy,” Dr. Ruiz told her and it was exactly what she needed to hear. No bullshit excuse about how it wasn’t her fault or that there wouldn’t have been anything she could’ve done. Just a plain and simple command to stop overthinking. It made a small smile play on her lips. 

“Yeah, well… How can I not?” She asked him, glancing up. He gave her a sad smile, knowing it was hard to let those thoughts go. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body. Leah sighed, leaning her head back into his shoulder while taking a sip of her coffee. He didn’t say anything else and neither did she. They just stayed there in silence for another few moments before he started leading her down the corridor. They said their goodbyes in front of the ICU, Dr. Ruiz promised he’d keep her updated on Spencer’s surgery. 

Leah prepared for a long night. Nightshifts were usually crap because it was so quiet and she was the kind of person who needed things to do. If she didn’t, she usually got all fidgety and restless, which was also why she never liked reading. She couldn’t sit still for longer periods of time. The more things she had to do, the better she felt once she got home at the end of the day. She had also prepared for a doubleshift, knowing the morning would be busy with doctorvisits, family coming to see their loved ones, breakfast coming around and helping certain patients go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. Yeah, she looked forward to the morning, but for right now she dreaded the long night ahead. 

Dr. Ruiz came up a little after two in the morning to let her know that Spencer was out of surgery and was recovering nicely. He’d been lucky, the bullet not hitting any major organs, but it had nicked his bladder so they were afraid of how his bladdercontrol would be. They wanted to keep him catheterized for a few days just to make sure everything was working properly. Apparently, he was also risking the development of internal bleeding and infections. Leah knew that, there was always a risk of that when it came to injuries like Spencer’s, but it rarely ever happened, not unless the bullet had nicked something or the surgery went wrong. But there was still a chance, so they always informed each other of it. She still knew that chances were slim so she wasn’t overly concerned about it. She was mostly happy he was going to be fine. 

Spencer was rolled into his own room at the ICU around 3:30 A.M. and Leah made it her personal business to check up on him. She finished the rest of her round rather quickly after that. Once she finished up the most important tasks she grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and some food from the cafeteria. For the next hour she hid out in Spencer’s room, figuring she’d deserved a nice, long break since she was going to pull a doubleshift. It was a quiet night anyway so she didn’t even feel remotely bad about it. 

He woke up a little before six in the morning, groaning softly from the bed beside her. Leah glanced over at him, giving him a moment to orient himself. She knew that her position was highly unprofessional; sitting a chair beside him with her feet propped up on his bed next to his. But she didn’t care. Her feet were aching and she loved being able to relieve the pressure for a little while. So, she played it cool, deciding it would be worse to drop her legs down in embarrassment. 

“Well, hey there, Stranger!” Leah decided to greet him with the biggest smile she could master. Spencer seemed to be more alert now and he had glanced everywhere imaginable; the door, her feet, the heartmonotor, the IV-bag, the ceiling. Still, his eyes wavered between her feet and her face. 

“You’re wearing mismatched socks,” he finally said. Leah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. That was probably the strangest thing anyone had ever said to her after coming out of surgery. 

“You know, we ruled out braintrauma pretty early on, but maybe we should still call neuro?” She teased. She could see a blush creep up his cheeks, taininting them in under half a second. His eyes roamed around again, finally locking in on the clock hanging above the door. 

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he told her bluntly and Leah felt like he probably wasn’t in jokingmood. “Where are my things? I need to call my boss,” he said trying to move up into a sitting position. Leah decided to just watch him struggle for a moment, finding it highly amusing even though she was still a little worried about him. He was probably still woozy from the anesthesia so sitting up appeared to be a struggle. Finally, Leah dropped her feet from his bed when he groaned out in pain. She walked over to him, putting both her hands on his shoulder and pushing him firmly back. 

“Don’t pull your stitches,” she told him. She took a seat in the chair again, grabbing the remote to bed and began to raise his back. He groaned out again when he was almost sitting, so she lowered the back a few notches again. “Don’t be a baby now,” she teased, but her voice was probably a little harsh. She couldn’t help it. She’d had a long day and she had been really worried about him. 

“I’m not a baby,” he whispered and Leah could see a pout on his lips. It only made her smirk. 

“You sure about that?” She asked, leaning over to snatch his file from the holder at the end of the bed. “You know what they say, right? About doctors being the worst patients?” She raised an eyebrow at him to give him the indication that she knew he was a doctor. It was in his file after all. 

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he informed her and Leah just chuckled.

“Yeah, I figured that much out. I’ve been around enough real doctors, so trust me when I say you’re definitely not the type,” she laughed. “No offense, of course,” she decided to add as an afterthought. 

“None taken,” he replied, a little slurred. Leah looked over at him. “Can I call my boss now?” He asked and Leah sighed. 

“Spencer, look… they’re already here, your friends I mean-” He cut her off before she even had the chance to say anything else. 

“They’re not my friends. They’re my team.” His words surprised her. She hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to them yet, but she’d heard that they had all been really worried and constantly asked for updates on his condition. They seemed genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 

“And they can’t be your friends because they’re ‘your team’?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you friends with your coworkers?” Spencer asked back, and it should’ve been a witty comeback, but he actually sounded interested in knowing. 

“Can’t say that I am,” she said after pondering the thought for a second or so. “Touché, by the way. But my point is, just take a minute to wake up a little bit. I’ll go get them later so you can see them, okay? Just please… take a breather, alright? And I want the doctor to take a look at you first as well. Do you even remember what happened? You just woke up from surgery after getting shot. Let that sink in before I call them in.” 

“I’m fine,” Spencer insisted, but Leah just shot him a stern look. She stared him down for what felt like too long before he finally caved, leaning a little further back in his seat with a sigh. 

“Good,” Leah smiled. She took a moment to really study him for the first time. He was actually really handsome, with these greenish eyes which got more honeybrown towards the middle and shaggy brown hair which she suspected was always unkept. His nose was straight and his lips slightly plump, skin clean. He actually looked like a specimen. The only negative thing she could point out were the dark circles under his eyes and she felt her heartstring tug a little, wondering what nightmares kept him up at night. The nasal cannula going into his nostrils made him look even sicker than he probably was, but it was still a sight for poor eyes. 

“So, you’re… a nurse?” He asked after a few more moments of silence. Leah couldn’t help the bashful smile that stretched across her lips. 

“Well, isn’t that kind of obvious?” She laughed, adoring how cute he was when he got all awkward. She took a sip of her coffee and decided it was time to call for the doctor, so she reached over Spencer's head to press the green button on the wall. Spencer was giving her a strange look and she had no idea what that meant. “What?” She asked him, cocking an eyebrow. His intense stare was kind of making her uneasy, but there was no way she was going to show him that. 

“I just didn’t take you for the nursing-type,” he mumbled. “No offense,” he quickly added, just as she had done previously. But he looked almost terrified about it, as if he was actually afraid he’d insulted her. Leah could only laugh. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t exactly picture myself as the type either, but here we are. I’m damn good at my job, though.” As if on cue the door to the room opened and Sophie, a young girl who happened to be Leah’s intern, stepped through the door. She decided to have a little fun with that. “Ah! Dr. Reid, meet my intern. Sophie, this is Dr. Reid. You’re in charge of him when I’m not here. Got it?” Spencer gave her an uncertain glance and Sophie had a look of pure horror on her face. She locked eyes with Leah, the ‘Oh dear God, he’s a doctor’ kind of look written over her face. Sophie was a sweet girl, but kind of slouch, and Leah had a tendency to play small little tricks to get her to work just a little harder. Knowing that the patient was a doctor (she didn’t need to know he wasn’t a medical doctor) would definitely nudge her to go the extra mile. 

“You, um, you called?” Sophie asked a little uncertainly and Leah found herself pleased when she noted the not so subtle way she leaned over to take a pump of the handsanatizer hanging on the wall by the door. It had been one of the many things Leah had added to her list of improving areas; always sanitize your hands before entering and leaving a patient’s room. 

“Yeah,” Leah tried to hide her grin. “Who’s on call right now?” She asked, knowing she could just as well walk out the door and find out herself, but she loved torturing her interns just a little bit. She never crossed the line, but she always pushed them around just enough that they’d remember who was in charge. She loved it, a little innocent fun. 

“Uhm, well… There’s you, obviously… and, uh, me and-” Sophie started and Leah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Sophie, calm down. It’s fine. I mean doctors, who’s on call?” Leah smiled up at Sophie, trying to reassure her that she’d only been joking. Well, at least half-joking. That was another one of Sophie’s flaws; she was too uncertain of herself and could hardly handle a joke. 

“Oh, um. I’m not sure,” Sophie mumbled, but didn’t make any move to find out. Leah just stared at her until she lifted her eyes to glance back. 

“So?” Leah asked and Sophie looked even more confused at that. “Are you gonna find out for me?” That seemed to startle her because she almost jumped. 

“Oh, right! Yes, I’ll be right back.” She was out the door so fast Leah couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head to herself and stood up from the chair, leaning closer to the heartmonitor and noting down Spencer’s vitals on his chart. 

“That was mean,” Spencer mumbled. Leah looked at him for a second, pausing her hand which was still writing. 

“It’s a bit of innocent fun. I’m their boss and you see that pager behind you,” she pointed her pen at the wall behind his head. She didn’t even wait for him to try to turn around to look at it before she continued. “It makes me their God,” she finished with a smug smile and gave him a wink. Spencer narrowed his eyes at her. 

“She’s your intern. You’re supposed to teach her, not scare her half to death.” He sounded almost angry, despite the uncertainty in his voice. Wow, this guy really couldn’t take a joke. Leah sighed. 

“Look, it’s a bit of innocent fun. We have a good relationship and we always have a little debriefing at the end of the day. She’d tell me if I was being too harsh on her,” she said. She finished the chart and put it down in the holder by the end of the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed a little. “You probably think I’m too rough on her or whatever, and sure, I probably am. But here’s the thing, and I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, but she’s insecure. She needs to learn how to stand on her own two feet. She’s probably gonna lash out on me one of these days and I’m gonna be so proud of her the day she does. She’s a snowflake and she really needs to learn how to stand up for herself.” She decided it was best to just be honest with him. In all honesty she shouldn’t care what Spencer thought of her, but she did. She didn’t want him to think that she was some heartless bitch. She loved being a mentor and loved looking out for her interns. Sophie, despite all her flaws, was her favourite. Leah could see her potential, if she just worked past her insecurities she’d be a damn fine nurse one day. 

“So, you’re… bullying her to make her, what, stand up for herself?” Spencer asked, surprise lacing his voice, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. That was a good thing, she guessed. 

“I’m not bullying her. Just pushing her buttons a little. Call it reversed psychology or whatever. It always works.” Leah grabbed her zipup hoodie which she had draped over the chair and stuck her arms through. She shook the hood in place so it wasn’t one giant ball in the back of her neck. Spencer gave her a small smile and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn’t want to stay long enough to figure out though. “Okay, well… I’ll go see about that doctor. I’ll go get your friends in a while, so hang out and try to, I don’t know, relax I guess? Call if you need anything,” she told him, placing a gentle hand on his arm just because she could. Grabbing her coffeecup under her armpit she took a few pumps of handsanatizer on the way out. She made her way to the nursesation just as Sophie came practically running down the hall. 

“Jameson’s on call right now,” She said, almost sounding out of breath. Leah wondered if she had been running all over the Goddamned hospital to figure that out. 

“Okay, did you tell him to take a look at 104?” She asked and Sophie’s eyes went wide. Leah realized quickly what that meant. “No, no! Sophie, it’s okay. Seriously. I’ll go find him. Don’t worry about it,” Leah gave her a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze both her shoulders. “Did you finish your schedule yet?” She asked, knowing her interns had some kind of schedule, like a plan, they were supposed to follow.

“Uhm, well, I still have to take out the trash in 109 and I have some other small things I haven’t done yet, but-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Leah cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. She threw away her now empty papercup and hung her hoodie over the chair by the computer. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Take a break or something, get some air, whatever.” Sophie seemed a little reluctant to the idea, but nodded her head acutely. 

“Would you, uhm, like me to bring you back some more coffee? Black right?” Sophie asked and Leah couldn’t help but grin at her. 

“Yes, please. Take your time, though.” With that Sophie took her leave and Leah went to find Dr. Jameson to let him know that Spencer was awake and needed a quick check. She then went back to the nursingstation to check what was next on her to-do list. She finished her round rather quickly, even with Sophie’s small list of things she’d neglected to do, or hadn’t gotten around to do or for whatever other reason just hadn’t done yet. It was just minor things, so she didn’t mind. Sophie seemed to have been doing alright with everything else. 

When she once again returned to the nursingstation there was a steaming papercup with her name on it, decorated with a simple smileyface. Leah smiled at that. She sat down by the computer and started documenting the most important details of the nightswatch so the morningshift would know what had gone down. Just as she was about to finish up, Sophie approached her, fidgeting a little. 

“Thanks for the coffee, Sophie,” Leah told her, hoping that would ease her nervousness a little. 

“Oh, no problem!” Sophie smiled. “Uhm, Jameson took a look at the good doctor in 104 and-” Leah had to cut her off with a chuckle. 

“That’s what we’re calling him now?” 

“Well… he hasn’t yelled at me yet for screwing up and he’s actually been kind of polite, so… I guess?” She sounded so uncertain again. 

“Well, what did you screw up?” Leah wasn’t mad. Everyone made mistakes, even her, and she just needed to know if it was a major blowup she had to document or if it was a small thing that could hardly be called a mistake. 

“Oh, nothing I think? I’m just really afraid of messing up,” Sophie told her, rather nonchalantly and Leah felt a little proud of her for not freaking out.  

“Okay, good. Look, Sophie… You don’t have to be afraid of messing up. Everyone messes up and I won’t get mad or anything, alright? You know I’m only teasing you, right? I don’t mean anything by it.” Leah always felt good about having these heart to heart talks with Sophie. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, uhm, I’m kinda awkward, I guess.” Leah laughed at that and Sophie gave a soft chuckle as well. Good thing for her that Spencer seemed twice as awkward as her. Maybe that would help boost her confidence. 

“Anyway, sorry I cut you off. What were you gonna say about the good doctor?” Leah really liked that nickname, it seemed to be suiting him. 

“Oh, yeah! Uhm, Jameson said that everything seemed to be alright, but wants to keep him here under observation at least until tomorrow just to make sure. And he’s still on antibiotics four times a day and we can amp up his painkillers, but he doesn’t want any morphine.” That last part didn’t surprise her whatsoever. “And he decided to switch off the oxygen for now, but to keep it on standby just in case his saturation decreases.” That wasn’t a surprise either. Most patients receive oxygen after surgery because the anesthesia could make them sluggish and their breathing labored. Once it wears off they’d be taken off oxygen as well. 

“Okay, that’s good,” Leah said, nodding along. “Anything else?” 

“Oh, yeah. He, uhm, wants to see his coworkers now and I told him he could only see two at a time, because that’s still the rule, right? He wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first. I guess you could get them?” Leah nodded her head and gave Sophie a pat on the back before returning to finish up her reports. It was around 6:45 A.M. when she headed out to the waiting area with her coffeecup in hand, recently refilled after she’d downed the one Sophie had brought her.

“Do I have a Hotch and J.J. for Spencer Reid?” Leah asked, scanning the waitingarea. She somehow knew the people she was looking for before they rose from their seats to come greet her. The whole group of, wow, six people practically came running for her. 

“Is he okay?” One of the women, dressed in a very colorful dress and an excessive amount of accessories asked, almost screaming out. She must have been very worried. Leah noted the flowers in her hand and grimaced at the thought of having to tell her later that flowers weren’t allowed in the ICU.

“He’s fine. He’s fully awake now,” Leah tried to reassure her. “He’s given me permission to share the specifics of his condition, so I can do that now, or you can wait for the doctorsvisit later today to get some more details. He’s just been checked out by a doctor now, though, and everything seems to be alright. He’ll probably stay in the ICU until tomorrow at least before we consider moving him.” She gave them the rest of what she knew and they seemed pleased that he was doing okay. So was Leah. Bulletwounds to the abdomen were typically gnarly cases, but Spencer had been really lucky. 

“Can we see him now?” The darkhaired woman asked, sounding just as worried as the other one had been just a minute ago. 

“Sure, but he’s in the ICU and we only allow two visitors at a time. We’ve asked and he wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first,” Leah told them, still having no idea who the respective ones were. 

“What, so I don’t get to see him?” The dark skinned man asked. He sounded angry, annoyed and frustrated, but Leah didn’t find him intimidating whatsoever, even despite the fact that he towered over her. 

“As I said, only two at a time. But he can have visitors all day for all I care, so you can take turns to see him, I don’t care how you do it. But only two at a time.” She tried to sound stern, but she also had sympathy for them. They’d been worried sick all night and they probably wanted to storm his room and hug him.

“Come on! That’s a bunch of bullshit!” The man yelled, obviously getting a little agitated. Leah wanted to step forward forward, put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down or something, but before she got the chance the tall man in the suit, yes a Goddamned suit, stepped forward. 

“Morgan,” He raised his hand in a stopmotion which immediately calmed the man down. “We’ll be quick. You’ll get to see him.” That seemed to do the trick because he sighed in defeat and stepped back. 

“Alright then, follow me!” Leah said and turned on her heel, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. She had other things to do, not really, but she could at least pretend she did. Standing in the waitingroom and arguing with friends and family of patients was not something she wanted to spend her whole day doing. 

“Wait, Sir. Can you bring him these for me?” Leah noticed that it was Flowerwoman who had spoken. 

“Actually, Ma’am… flowers are not allowed in the ICU either. I’m really sorry. If we move him to another unit tomorrow, you can bring him whatever you want, but as of right now I’m gonna have to say no,” she said, turning her body to give the woman an apologetic look. 

“Oh.” She sounded utterly wrecked as she uttered the simple word and it made Leah a little sad. These people cared so deeply for Spencer. How could he possibly claim they weren’t his friends?

She brought J.J,, a young woman a little taller than herself, and Hotch, the man who had calmed down the black man earlier, through the doors of the ICU. She quickly located Spencer’s room and knocked on the door a few times before entering. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see his colleagues following right behind her. 

“Oh, Spence!” J.J. exclaimed, rushing over to his bed. Leah rubbed some sanitizer on her hands as she watched her bend down to give him a gentle hug. She grabbed his chart from the end of his bed again and noted down his vitals as the three of them exchanged their greetings, also reading through what the doctor had written earlier. 

“Dr. Jameson was in here earlier. He explained that we’ve taken you off oxygen, right?” She hated to break up their happy reunion, but she had to give him some information before she bid her farewell. They all turned to look at her as she disposed of the chart again. “You understand that if you experience any shortness of breath, any dizzyness, anything at all you have to call, right?” She asked, looking directly at Spencer. 

“Well, I’m a doctor, so, of course I understand.” His response brought a smile onto her lips. 

“Well, you’re not that kind of doctor,” Leah laughed, throwing his previous words back at his face. “Do you need anything before I leave?” She asked and Spencer shook his head. “Well, if you do, don’t hesitate to call,” she told him seriously while pointing at the caller behind his head. She turned to leave when Spencer spoke up again. 

“Does, uhm, does that mean I’ll be your God?” Leah was stunned a little, not fully understanding what he meant, but then she remembered how she’d previously joked about being a God to her interns. Wow, her brain was working slowly. She needed more coffee. 

“Hey! Don’t push it now.” She tried to be stern, but her lips tugged upwards on their own accord. She then bid her goodbyes, shutting the door on the way out.

[hes-writer]

Routine

Summary: y/n catches harry live streaming a show

Warning: smut

Word Count: 2293 words

___

University was no joke. It’s expensive for sure. Harry had a full-time job at the beginning of the semester working at a cafe near his flat. He soon found out that that wasn’t the best idea. Maybe because he didn’t manage his time right or it was simply too exhausting for him to work late hours when he had to take mandatory morning classes. His next solution was more--risky per se. 

Harry had always been confident with his body. He ate well; loading up on fruit smoothies and veggie shakes every morning to accompany him on his early morning workouts. The sweat beading in between his toned pecs made him revel in the accomplishments of self-care, washed away as he palmed his face underneath the stream of the locker room shower. His wet curls stuck to his small ears as he pulled his sweater over his body, exiting the gym with a bag slung over his shoulder, plucking a peace sign to the person at the front desk as he left the building. 

It started off as a blog; posting pictures of his body that he worked hard on. The narcissist in him craved the compliments of strangers drooling over his muscles and shapely body. Sometimes the messages he received were explicit, but he also couldn’t help the arousal flowing through his veins as blood pumped towards his cock. Thus, the next part of his routine was to go home to his flat and strip his body off of his clothes. His webcam would be switched on with a push of a button, his long fingers floating over the keyboard as he signed in to his account. 

Speaking of, the meat between his thighs plumped up with the lingering thought of user ‘sweetgirl112’ messages last night. How much she wanted to tuck his thick length in her mouth, how much she craved to feel his large hands adorning her body. God, she had such a way with words and here Harry was with an erection pudging up in his lycra leggings. An outline of his mushroom head visible through the tight material. He played with his bottom lip as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. One hand tapped against the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern, his mind drifting away to how it would feel like to have those pleasures within his reach. 

But he didn’t. 

He rushed off from his seat, quickly locking his car and keying the front door to his flat. Harry was hornier than usual today, thanks to sweetgirl’s lovely messages from last night. Harry rolled his eyes at the effect the stranger had on him. He dropped the chain dangling from his fingers on the bowl beside his door, sighing with excitement as he toed off his runners. 

On the couch, Y/N snoozed with her mouth agape, hair messily splayed across the pillow he provided her. He almost forgot she had slept over last night during their movie night. She insisted to sleep on the sofa despite Harry offering his bed to share between the both of them. In the end, both of them slept on the uncomfortable cushion cuddled up into one another. The distance between them was non-existent but Harry found it endearing the way Y/N cuddled up into his body in order not to fall off the edge, snuggling into his chest with a quiet snore after jolting when one of her legs tumbled of the border. 

Nonetheless, that meant that Harry had to tone his volume down a bit, keeping a keen ear to make sure his noises don’t wake her up or arise any alarm from his friend. He crouched down beside her sleeping face, waving a hand over her eyes to make sure she was still in a deep sleep. 

“Hope yer’ having sweet dreams,” His thick accent made the words stick to his tongue, lazily drooping like honey. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the way his heart thumped as she smiled slightly in her sleep, humming with satisfaction and cuddling closer to the pillow clutched between her arms. 

Adorable, Harry thought. 

Soft footsteps tiptoed over his bedroom, shutting the door gently. He stretched his arms to remove the black sweater over his head, ruffling his curls in the process. His nose hooked at the opening, muffling his breath for a bit that had him tumbling down on the end of his bed with a slight bounce. Harry is clumsy.

He managed to remove the rest of his clothes without further trouble, leaving him in his boxers briefs and socks which he would take off when he got situated in his office chair situated in front of his computer. His set up was on the corner of his room, facing the door. It was a bit odd at first but Harry learned to make it work. 

Harry pushed two pumps of coconut-scented lotion into his large palm, lathering his upper body with a subtle sheen, moisturizing his biceps to appear shiny. The excess cream was rubbed along the nape of his neck, massaging the tense muscles along the way. A swift glance at the time at the bottom corner informed him that he had five minutes left until his scheduled show would begin. In preparation, Harry gathered the items he might need during his session. A bottle of clear, water-based lube, a bullet vibrator that recently joined his collection of toys and a silicone cock ring that looked to be a struggle to fit around his plump dick. He set the items aside on the table in front of where he would be sitting. 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, hands grasping the width of his hip as he opted to check on Y/N again. She was a heavy sleeper and the show will probably take around thirty minutes to do, minus the foreplay and all of that. It was still pretty early in the morning too; around ten-thirty, surely she’d stay put till then. He peeked his head through a small gap in his door, craning his neck to catch Y/N shifting just in time to rest on her other side. 

Pretty soon, the webcam displayed a green dot at the corner and his screen was loaded to a  black screen. The chat indicated that there were currently twenty people watching him. The total viewer count increased with each passing second that had Harry grinning to himself. Once the camera was adjusted to where it cut off around his neck, he sat back in his spinny chair, splaying his wide palms on his muscly thighs. 

20 seconds left.

Harry could feel his cock grow in his boxers, the anticipation of his fans commenting on dirty things that they would like to do to him left his imagination endless. A blurt of precum stained the inside of the fabric, dotting the area a darker colour. He sighed deeply, wide eyes watching as the countdown changed.

5...4...3...2...1

In a blink of an eye, Harry’s toned body was showcased on the screen, allowing him to view what his viewers had the pleasure of viewing. The ‘LIVE’ sign blinked repeatedly. 

“Hello,” Harry drawled out purposefully using a deeper tone to set the mood. “How are you today?” His fingers stayed hung over the armchair, griping it slightly when comments started rolling in.

“How’s my baby? Are you needy for me?” He found that the best way to ensure as much of connection between his viewers was to speak as though it was a one-on-one conversation. “Because I am,” A hand crawled towards his crotch where his half-massed dick rested on his upper thigh, the head prominent against the tight briefs. 

Making sure to keep his face out of view, Harry leaned forward to read the remarks.

User12314: i love your tattoos

User48529: what i’d do to have my hands on you

He chuckled to himself, rubbing up and down to tease himself and them even more. Various 'pings' littered the room with Harry thanking each of them as much as possible. 

“I’d love to have my hands on you too,” He gave his cock a gentle squeeze, sucking a breath through his gritted teeth at the sensation. “Wanna feel your body on my skin,” Harry released a throaty groan as he shifted to pinch at his nipples, “Would ya’ let me touch your breasts? I bet they’re soft and perfect for my hands,” His thumb rubbed circles on his top two nipples, shivering slightly.

One palm cupped his balls, thumbing at the middle as the other continued the ministrations on his chest. This went on for a couple more seconds until he pulled his hands away to rest on the ferns tattooed on his hips, rubbing the skin there sensually while he spoke, “Y’wanna see my cock? It’s so hard for you,” The head twitched twice, forcing an involuntary moan to leak from his plump lips. 

User09321: yes please

He sighed at the message, his stomach burning with the need to just wrap his fingers around his dick and jerk it till he cums. But he couldn’t do that—at least not yet.

___

Y/N woke up from her slumber, dizzy and discombobulated about where she was only to realize that the ache in her lower back was caused by Harry’s uncomfortable couch. Her phone buzzed beside her; an alarm to wake up to watch a show. Not just any show—a filthy, dirty cam boy who hadn’t left Y/N’s mind ever since she discovered him for the first time a few days ago. She was drunk on wine and barely remembered what the live stream had contained. He was hot, that much she knew. 

He wore a dark red sweater that covered his body which Y/N found quite adorable. Yet at the same time, his fist peeked out from his bunched sweater paws to desperately tug at his cock while endless whispers and groans flowed from his mouth through the speakers. His covered body arching against his seat, the walls behind him a plain white. Apparently, he was feeling like a sub that day and asked permission to touch himself like a good boy, pleading to cum. His audience couldn’t resist the whine in his deep voice, shooting streams of cum on his sweater, staining the fabric and probably ruining it forever. 

Just before the live stream ended, he reminded everyone when his next show was--today-- and in her drunk daze, Y/N must have set up a reminder on her phone, completely forgetting that she was to hang out with Harry the day before. She rubbed the ball of her palm against her eyes, willing away the sleep on her lids. Sitting up on the cushion, she looked around Harry’s apartment to find the curly-headed boy. 

“Harry?” She called out, checking his kitchen to find it empty. She went to his bathroom to freshen up, picking up her toothbrush that Harry had sweetly brought her after Y/N stayed at his place more times than both of them can count. After spitting out the foam pooling in her cheeks, Y/N dabbed the corners of her mouth with a soft, fluffy towel. 

As she exited the bathroom, Y/N opened up the web browser in incognito mode, refreshing the link from a few days ago. The page loaded slowly, enabling Y/N to continue searching for Harry. She absent-mindedly walked to Harry’s closed bedroom door—the last place she had yet to look. Her phone produced a muffled sound when it finally loaded. She rapidly typed out a comment to send.

“Can’t take it anymore,” The man said, “I‘ve gotta touch myself but I’m wishing it’s you wrapping your hands around m’cock,”

Y/N could feel her thighs tighten, standing in front of Harry’s bedroom. 

Sweetgirl112: touch yourself for me daddy. i wanna hear you say how good it feels

Harry growled upon seeing the message and its user,  pulling the fabric down and letting his dick hit his skin with a faint slapping sound on his flushed stomach. Shaky fingers teased his length, tracing of the prominent veins that pumped his cock with blood. “Mm, it feels so good, love,” His thumb spread the liquid seeping at the tip, making sure to lube the head of his dick for a smooth stroke. 

With distracted thoughts, Y/N pushed the bar handle down, a gentle bump knocking the door open.  

She couldn’t believe her eyes when the loading screen on her phone mirrored the sight in front of her; Harry’s head thrown back, resting against the head of the office chair. Her phone cut off at the veins stretched over the expanse of his neck. His heaving chest glistening with sweat and the faint smell of coconut lingered in the air. His fist pumped his long cock up and down, squeezing at the tip to produce a dollop of wispy pre-cum. Closed eyes blocked his vision from Y/N standing frozen on the door, gazing back and forth towards the device on her sweaty palm to the even hotter view right in front of her.

A resonant sound of ‘pings’ pulled Harry out of his pleasure, lifting his head with the aim to thank whoever tipped him but was taken aback by the sight of his friend at his doorway.

“Oh shit,” He mumbled, impulsively clutching his full balls cradled between his fingers. Harry’s green irises were hooded, observing Y/N’s face with such intensity that it made her want to cower back. His two-front teeth grazed his bottom lip before parting his sweet mouth in a silent gasp at a particularly good stroke. “Wanna join me, baby?”

——

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