#confirmed I will definitely be tattooing it to the inside of my eyelids

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Good Day (M)

Jeon Jungkook Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: His motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. He just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. Is that too much to ask for?

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Can I request a Jungkook oneshot(established relationship) where they just want to spend the day just getting drunk on wine and having sex on the couch? Y/N could be dressed in just his shirt and Jungkook in just his sweatpants”

•••> Word Count: 6.15k [Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | Established Relationship | Jungkook!au | Boyfriend!Jungkook | Lazy Day/Sex | Wine Drunk

•••> Warnings: smut, slight bloating!kink (but there isn’t actually any bloating), unprotected sex, dirty talk, kookie is a horny little fuck, he literally just wants to bone, all day, he’s also a drunken idiot sometimes, cursing, alcohol use, shower stimulation, showerheads can be a girl’s best friend, drunk sex, lazy sex

Copyright © 2021 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for the request, anon! It took ages to complete and I’m so sorry! I hope you enjoy it :)

~#~

Arms tightened around your waist as you woke. The embrace was slightly suffocating.

“Baby,” You wheezed through your unused vocal cords. The grip only tightened and constricted your lungs, serving for a rude awakening. “Kook.”

“Murph.” Hot breath on your neck after a groan of exhaustion was a welcome feeling- comforting despite the uncomfortable position you were in. You smiled despite your lack of ability to move and looked down to see his tattooed arm overlapping the bare one over your ribs.

“I can’t-“ You were cut off as he tightened his grip with a slight whimper of distress.

Immediately plagued with concern, you grabbed his arms and wrestled them from your body so that you could turn to face him from within his encircled limbs. You only got more worried when you noticed his obvious stress-ridden eyebrows, arched up with eyelids fluttering rapidly. His lower lip was trembling as he quietly began muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.

“Jungkook.” You gently placed your hand on his bare shoulder and shook him. His fingers dug into your ribs painfully, warranting a more stern call of his name. “Jungkook!”

“No!” He yelled while sitting up abruptly and heaving for breath. You were thrown from his clutches and rocked on the bed from the movement. Despite the disturbance, you sat up with him and reached for his back to rub it soothingly.

“Baby,” You cooed, quick to reassure him with gentle touches. “I’m here. We’re here. You’re okay.”

Following your statements and ministrations on his back, his breathing gradually slowed with a few sputtering gasps and an audible gulp. Once you gauged his level of calm, you broke the silence.

“What happened?” You asked, tilting your head and leaning forward to get a better look at his face past his long hair. His eyes were shut tight with eyelids wrinkled at the corners while he inhaled slowly through flaring nostrils.

Your boyfriend opened his eyes after a moment, blinking a few times in the process, before turning his head to set you in his line of sight.

“They were taking my dad away.” He wavered. “But he’d already completed his time.”

You knew better- Jungkook’s father was safe in the comfort of his own home in Busan, already having served the mandatory enlistment for his home country- but you also knew that you needed to reassure your boyfriend so that he could relax his tensed shoulders.

“Do you want me to give him a call?” You asked. “I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing from us and it’s not too late in the evening over there.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook said, letting the tremors fade from his body as he let reality sink into him. “He should get his rest. I’ll call him this evening.”

“Alright, Kook. Sounds good.” You gave him one more pat before looking at the clock. Your alarm would go off in eight minutes. “Shit. Might as well start getting ready now.”

“You do have work today.” Jungkook said the words as a statement, as if confirming prior thoughts.

“Yes,” You chuckled, smiling lightly and leaning in to kiss his cheek before getting out of the bed. “I do.”

A soft whine escaped his throat as he quickly grabbed onto your fingers. “Nooo… Don’t goooo…”

“I have to, baby.” You lightly tugged your fingers from his grasp to make your way towards the bathroom. Shuffling sheets from behind you signaled that Jungkook had also gotten out of the bed.

As you turned the shower handle and began taking off your clothes to shower, you heard him creep in behind you with light footsteps padding across the wooden floor.

“Don’t even think about it.” You giggled while he crowded his body against the back of your almost-bare one, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his ever-present morning wood against your skin. “I can’t be held up.”

“Then call out.” He whispered into your ear, to which you pulled away and turned around so that you could raise an eyebrow at him. Did he really just tell you to call out of work just so the two of you could bone?

His eyes were dark and playful as if challenging you while you stared up into his gaze defiantly. You scoffed in disbelief. “Jungkook, I can’t.”

“Why not?” He jutted his lower lip out into a pout. Fuck. You internally scowled at his tactics, hating the way your heart began trying to convince your brain to consider calling out.

Before you could crumble under the pressure of his ways, you huffed out a response. “Because I can’t, babe.” You slid your panties off and opened the shower door to step inside.

“-And don’t even think of coming in here. I can’t afford to be late.” You added the last part as you closed the glass door behind you, knowing his next strategy would be to tempt you with his naked body- a strategy you would surely lose to.

Jungkook groaned, pressing himself against the door with one arm bracing his weight against the distorted surface while you wet your hair. You watched in amusement as he slowly began accepting his defeat.

“But you work all the time.” He whined again, causing you to smugly and mockingly pout in response.

“So that I can make money.” You jokingly copied his tone and continued with your shower before he backed away from the glass in silence and stepped towards the sink. You watched as his shapeless body moved, deducting that he was going to brush his teeth as he reached into the drawer where you kept the toothpaste. Once he placed the toothbrush into his mouth and began brushing, you smiled, shook your head, and continued to shower.

“Y’know,” His words were jumbled as the toothbrush obstructed his speech. “You gon’ make me act up.”

“Act up?” You asked while laughing. “How are you going to act up?”

Jungkook leaned over the sink and spit, leaving a break of silence to drag your curiosity further. Once he rinsed his mouth, he turned to look at you again despite being unable to see you clearly. He sighed dramatically.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.” He quipped before exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

You only scoffed at him again, rolling your eyes and hurrying with your shower to stay on schedule.

~#~

Fresh-faced and ready for work, you grabbed your purse and walked out of your bedroom to make your way towards the front door. The sound of something scraping against a pan while the oven fan hummed lowly tipped off that Jungkook was in the kitchen.

“Jungkook?” You called for him as you were about to round the corner. “Do you know where my phone is?”

The sight you walked in on was one of dreams.

Your boyfriend stood in front of the stove, cooking eggs and bacon, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Muscular back on full display, you let your eyes slowly trail all the way down the cut definition around his shoulders to the dimples stamped into the flesh of his lower back. The adorable crevices were graciously uncovered because of how low his pants hung on his hips.

“It’s on the counter.” He haphazardly gestured to the kitchen island with the spatula he was holding. You had to gulp down the saliva that collected in your mouth and blink a few times to snap yourself out of your haze so that you could grab your phone and leave.

“Thanks, baby.” You rushed up to the counter, grabbed your phone to drop it into your bag, turned to kiss Jungkook on the cheek, and quickly began to leave. “I’ll see you later. Love you!”

“Oh, by the way,” Jungkook started. You stopped in front of the door to put your heels on. “Your boss called.”

“She did?” You reached into your purse and fumbled around for your phone. “What did she say?”

“She said she hopes you feel better soon.”

“What?” You froze, unable to understand, and looked up at Jungkook who had already set the food on two plates. “Why?”

“Because you’re bedridden right now. Your head hurts oh, so bad and you have a runny nose with a fever of one-hundred and one degrees.” He pouted and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye despite wearing a somber expression on his face.

Realization set in all at once.

He. Did. Not.

“Jungkook,” You started, slightly upset. “I swear to god, if you did what I think you di-“

“A sick person shouldn’t be all dressed in heels and a pant suit. Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable and then come eat so we can get some food in your belly?”

You spluttered incredulously to a halt as he spoke, shocked by his drastic measures to keep you home. He lied to your boss and called out of work for you.

“What- exactly- did she say?” You gritted out.

Jungkook grabbed the two plates and walked to the kitchen table with a seemingly unbothered demeanor, placing them down carefully.

“She just said that you had it coming. You work too much for your own good and now you’re sick because of it.” He sauntered over to the fridge as you eyed him critically, glaring daggers into the back of his head while he spoke. “I agree with her, to be honest. You don’t look so good. All that working took a toll on you- do you want orange juice? Or water? Or some iced coffee?”

The oblivious facade only irritated you further, warranting you to kick off your heels, drop your purse, and stomp over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulder, you spun him around angrily, only to see a smug smirk plastered across his lips.

“I’ll take that as you wanting iced coffee. You were always a grump without some caffeine.” He grinned.

“Jeon Jungkook.” You hissed, glowering at him with increasing intensity. “What the hell did you call me out for?”

“I called you out-“ He started with a smirk, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and spinning you around quickly to press you against the fridge. His face morphed into a stern expression quickly. You never broke eye contact with him, intransigence unwavering under his pressure.

“- so that we can crack open those bottles of wine we hoard and I can fuck you open on the couch over and over again while we pretend to pay attention to a movie playing on the TV.”

Your anger dissipated instantaneously, brain functioning coming to a halt as his words sunk into your skin.

Well… shit. What’s your name again?

“Do you understand now?” Jungkook asked, leaning down far enough that his hair brushed against your forehead and his mint-scented breath tickled your nose and top lip.

“Y-yeah.” You stuttered.

“Good. Now, go change.” He grinned, backing away from you and reaching into the fridge to grab the orange juice and the iced coffee. You followed his command like a robot, excitement building in you so fast that you had no way to process the fact that you were livid with him moments ago.

It wasn’t long before you were bare-faced and clad in one of Jungkook’s shirts that you picked up from the bed. His scent filled the shirt, shampoo and body soap mixed with a slight edge of his natural musk. It was almost dizzying in your current state of arousal.

The heat between your legs distracted you throughout your breakfast as you sat at your small kitchen table across from Jungkook, but falling into a conversation with him came naturally. Your boyfriend lying to your boss about your sickness went easily forgotten as you began to enjoy the day off.

Before long, your plate was empty and all that remained in your glass of iced coffee was a few melting ice cubes. Looking over to Jungkook’s side of the table, you noticed that his dishes were also cleared of food.

“I’ll clean the dishes.” You said, getting up with your silverware, glass, and plate in hand.

“I won’t fight you on that.” He chuckled, getting up from his chair and grabbing his things too. “I’ll pour us some wine.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You affirmed.

As you set the now-clean items on the drying rack, you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the kitchen island with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of some nameless wine that someone had gifted to Jungkook not too long ago in the other while he grinned at you.

“Couch?” He asked.

“Couch.” You nodded, nerves building in you once again at the mention of the location.

You were just about to finish your second glass when you noticed Jungkook reaching for the bottle to pour himself the last bits of wine left inside.

“Nooo.” You whined, causing him to turn and face you in the process of pouring the remaining alcohol into his own glass. “I wanted it.”

“Nuh-uh.” He playfully turned his body away from you so that you couldn’t reach for the wine as he poured it. “This was my idea, so I get to have three cups. We can open another bottle anyway. We have a shit load.”

“But this one tastes yummy.” You complained, grabbing onto his shoulder to lightly urge him to face you.

He looked into your pleading eyes for a few moments with his lips pressed into a tight line before he huffed.

“Fine! But on one condition.” He set the bottle down on the table.

You raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. “What is the condition?”

“I’ll pour you this last glass if you join me in the shower when you’re finished with it.”

The shower? Oh boy. “I already took a shower, Kook.”

“So?” He smirked. “That doesn’t mean anything. I want you in the shower if I give you this last glass.”

Slightly warm and agreeable from the delicious wine, you gave in with a grumble. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Sweet.” Jungkook gestured for you to offer your glass so that he could fill it. Once he did, he brought the empty wine bottle to the kitchen and dropped it into the recycling bin, only to turn around and meet your following eyes as he stalked towards your bedroom with a devious smile on his lips. “See you in a few.”

You watched with slightly parted lips as he turned back around while beginning to hum an aimless tune to skip the rest of the way, giving you whiplash with how quickly he could turn from a man that made you lustfully feral to a boy that made you want to joyfully frolic through a meadow.

Determined to remain true to your word, you sipped your wine quickly. He wanted to be joined in the shower? So be it. It wasn’t long before your glass was empty once again.

Three glasses of wine and adrenaline pumping the alcohol quickly through your veins were the factors that caused you to feel a slight head rush and a bit loopy once you stood from the couch. Giggling softly at your condition, you left your empty glass next to his and headed in the direction of your bedroom.

Distantly, you heard smooth notes of a familiar song drifting from the bathroom. Jungkook loved to sing in the shower and you loved to listen to it. The sound of the water running only made taking a shower with him more inviting as you approached the closed bathroom door.

Sneaking in quietly, you shed your clothes once again, hoping to take him by surprise. Your plan only resulted in failure when Jungkook slid the door open to beckon you inside when you were in the middle of taking off your boyfriend’s shirt.

“C’mon, babe. We haven’t got all morning.” He smiled, wet hair mussed and pressed to his forehead.

“We don’t?” You laugh as you step inside so that he could close the door behind you. Immediately, you were encased in the tight, warm, and humid space. “I’m pretty sure that you made it so that we do.”

Swiftly, Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around to meet the steady stream of water. Crowding your back with his chest, Jungkook pressed his face up against the back of your neck.

“I know, babe, but I have a few plans now that you’re off.”

“Plans, you say?” You giggled and craned your head down to get his wandering nose away from your neck. He knew that you were ticklish and loved to attack the spot when he got playful.

“Yes ma’am.”

After a moment of standing in the shower, the telltale signs of your situation becoming hot and steamy made themselves prominent in the form of Jungkook’s semi-hard erection brushing your skin and the subtle notes of a growl tainting the edge of his exhales.

“You alright there, baby?” You teased.

“Mhm.” He hummed, detaching a hand from your body to reach for the showerhead. “Just wanna rinse you really quick.”

“Be my guest.” You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder and closed your eyes, heart slightly picking up its pace at the elevating tension. For a moment, both of Jungkook’s arms left you to change the setting on the water pressure and you felt the steady stream turn harsh right below your collarbones.

You hummed in appreciation while he returned one of his arms around your waist and began running the water over your shoulders and arms with the other. Gradually, he began massaging you with it.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook’s true intentions came to the surface; slowly, the point of the pressure moved south from your shoulders to your breasts. You felt the showerhead point the stream closer and closer to your nipples, causing your eyelids to flutter open and look at the man delivering the sensations to your body.

You gasped softly as the water covered your left nipple and Jungkook tore his gaze from your chest to meet your eyes once you did. What greeted you in his irises was pure, prominent desire.

“Kookie.” You whispered, lips brushing his as your body became electrified like a live wire.

“Say the word, baby.” He crooned softly, encouraging. The pressure on your nipples only left you with your lips slightly parted and taking sharp inhales with a whine teasing your throat. Jungkook only continued to push you along, desperate to hear. “That’s it, baby. Say it.”

You whimpered, barely able to get it out. “Please.”

“As you wish, my love.”

And then he made the showerhead descend further down.

Your toes curled against the floor in anticipation that was fueled by how slow he moved. Your stomach vibrated while the water migrated down your expanse of skin to the place you wanted it most.

As the water touched the top of your mound, you reached up and curled an arm around Jungkook’s neck to prepare for the onslaught.

Your moan was unexpected; the force of the water shocked you into submission instantly.

Jungkook’s grip on you tightened soon after, followed by the low, comforting ‘sh’ that slid through his teeth when your body curled inwards.

The water pressure, turned high, forced its way past your pussy lips with no trouble at all. In its trajectory, your clit was battered as the only thing in the showerhead’s path. The intense amount of stimulation had you approaching an orgasm faster than you could count to three.

“Jungkook,” You whined at a high pitch, unused to the most adamant sensation of pleasure you’d felt in a while.

“You’re okay, baby. Just breathe. It’s alright.” Your boyfriend’s voice in your ear came out as a soothing coo, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to breathe correctly when he was holding the showerhead so close to your bundle of nerves and tightening his grip around your waist to prevent you from escaping.

“I-I-“ You breathed so fast, it almost felt like you were hyperventilating. Your clit, taking the entirety of the assault by the water, throbbed wildly and spasmed as if attempting to get out from under the force.

Almost on instinct, you raised a leg to allow the water more access the the entirety of your pussy, hoping that your orgasm would crest upon you before you lost your mind, and braced your raised foot against Jungkook’s knee. You hoped that taking the attention off your clit would help balance out how boggled your mind was, but all it did was drive you crazy when you felt the pressure beginning to spread your folds apart to push inside.

“Oh, no. Now I can’t let that happen.” Jungkook spoke as if he were speaking to a child in disdain, repeating the word ‘no’ a few more times with his bottom lip jutted into a pout.

He moved the showerhead back up to solely torture your clit, warranting you to cry out and tighten your arm around the back of his neck while you squeezed your eyes shut. His voice turned into a growl. “I’m the only one who gets to be inside you.”

“No!” You groaned in frustration, jerking your hips in response to the stream returning to your most sensitive area. “Nononono baby, please.”

“It’s unhealthy for you, baby. I can’t put water up there. So just be a good girl and take it here.”

Jungkook seemed to punctuate his statement with a light twist of his wrist to circle your clit with the showerhead. Your legs shook from the strain of spreading them so hard and trembled from the new burst of stimulation.

It only took another few moments for your body to begin curling in on itself again.

“K-kook.” Your teeth chattered as you mumbled his name, eyes rolling back into your head.

Jungkook braced his back against the wall before squeezing your waist to lift your body against his chest. You had half the mind to help him, supporting some of your weight on his neck so that you could wrap your other leg around his to spread your thighs even further.

“You gonna cum?” His breathing was harsh in your ear as he watched your body.

Your response came out as a whimper of affirmation, unsure of how to speak with the vibrations of the water shooting up your spine and back down to your curling toes.

Jungkook’s erection throbbed against your back while you let out sounds that were a mixture of huffs for breath and moans of pleasure. At this point, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything but making sure you orgasmed in the next five seconds.

You knew you were going to cum when you felt the tingling sensation spread like wildfire from your battered nub. It bloomed in your lower belly and seared every muscle in its path throughout your body, causing all of the sinew and tendons to tighten in response. As the orgasm ripped through you, your body became rigid with a few jerks of sensitivity.

Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your forehead against the side of Jungkook’s neck with the need to be as close to him as possible during your orgasm. Your ecstasy seared through you and overtook your body to act on its own accord. Far beyond the darkness of your eyelids, you reveled in the immense satisfaction, pussy spasming in the aftershocks.

Once Jungkook removed the showerhead and your body calmed, he slowly lowered you back down to the floor. Shaky legs prevented you from standing completely straight and you laughed breathlessly at how the prior activities caused an uncanny amount of oversensitivity in your nether regions.

One step forward and your clit was slightly rubbed, shooting sparks of mild pain and pussy-clenching pleasure throughout your stomach.

“You shouldn’t have done that, babe. I’m way too sensitive for any more action now.”

“That’s alright, love.” Jungkook kissed the side of your temple and switched you around so that he could stand under the stream of the shower. “Go and get dried off and dressed. I’ll meet you in the living room for a movie?”

As if it was glaring at you, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes down your boyfriend’s toned body to the angry red tip of his dick.

“I, uh…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I can suck you off? Let me help you out.”

“No, it’s okay, babe. Now, go.” He ushered you out of the shower while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he giving himself blue balls?

Leaving him alone in the shower was most definitely bothersome, but on shaky and fatigued legs, you couldn’t really fight him on the matter. As you toweled off and glanced through the shower door to look at Jungkook’s form, you furrowed your eyebrows even further when he didn’t start touching himself.

After you were dressed in his shirt- again- and sitting in the living room with Netflix open, ready for your boyfriend, you began to feel the exhaustion from your earlier activities on top of the fact that you hated waking up early for work. Comfortably warm, showered, and relaxed on an unexpected day off, the calm had your body sinking further into the couch and reveling in the warmth of the blanket placed over your body.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard Jungkook padding down the hallway from your bedroom, prompting you to turn and look at him.

Your eyes had trouble staying on his playful expression when he was dressed the way he was dressed.

His hair was still wet, droplets dripping onto his shoulders and cascading down the expanse of his shirtless body. All that covered him was his favorite pair of raggedy joggers. Frankly, they were your favorite pair as well- for obvious reasons.

“Wine?” He asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

“Yesss.” You drawled with a newly awakened sense of excitement.

After grabbing two bottles and popping them open, he snuggled into the couch with you, wine glasses in hand. You held your breath and attempted to control your body, pussy pulsating slightly from the aftermath of the shower.

It took a while to get back to where you were before, but once you were much past the point of being giggly, you began to slur your speech as the movie played on.

Jungkook wasn’t in much better shape.

“You know,” Jungkook sat up and swayed a little too far forward, catching his body right before he toppled over. He snickered at himself before he continued. “I haven’t really been paying attention to anything we’ve been watching.”

“What?” You were honestly shocked, drunken mind and all. “But ‘About Time’ is so good! Like, what the heck Kookie-ookie-ook! This movie is so cute and interesting.”

The new nickname sent you into a fit of giggles. Your creativity tended to get a bit wonky and, honestly, comical when you were drunk.

“But how could I possibly pay attention to the movie when I’ve been thinking about burying my cum in-between your legs for the past hour?”

His statement surprised you to say the least. Your pussy throbbed uncontrollably, sensitivity still present from the shower. You couldn’t help but think of how sex with him in your current state would be.

“Why didn’t you let me suck your dick in the shower? I could’ve taken care of you, you know.”

“But I wanted to give you a break so that I could cum inside. That’s the only place I want to cum.”

“So you don’t want to cum down my throat?” You blamed the wine for the filthily honest statements coming out of both or your mouths. Speaking this casually about your sexual activities wasn’t exactly the norm.

“On any other day, I’d say yes. But today? I really just want to fill you up. Fuck you all day.” Your boyfriend inched towards you slowly without actually looking at you. It seemed that he just wanted to be in a closer proximity with you yet was hesitant to get too close. “Make you bloated. Hear it slosh around when you move.”

You were kind of mortified, but you were also extremely horny at the same time. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to bloat you nor would he be able to hear his cum inside of you, but it was the thought that counted.

“You wanna fuck?”

Jungkook turned to completely face you, chocolate-brown doe eyes silently pleading for the go-ahead. He bit his bottom lip before pushing it out into a pout as he whined. “Uhuh.”

You laughed as you threw off the blankets and spread your bare legs. Your boyfriend’s shirt came to rest on your waist from the action.

You gestured to your crotch and then curled your fingers towards yourself, smiling.

“Come to momma.”

Jungkook did not hesitate to cover you with his body and kiss you sloppily. The wine was taking its toll on your movements with him, encasing him in your hold lazily.

Somewhere between the messy tongues and teeth, Jungkook had managed to push your panties aside to thumb over your sensitivity. It took everything in you to not scream out- whether it would be a scream in pain or pleasure still had yet to be determined.

Your nub tingled desperately, pleasure-fatigued and vulnerable to the ministrations of Jungkook’s thumb. Finally, though, he had begun dipping his fingers into your core to balance out the bliss.

“Gonna paint you white. Make it drip.” Jungkook mumbled almost incoherently as he spoke with your bottom lip sucked between his plump ones. Your fingers threaded into his blonde locks, tugging when you needed a way to release your sexual frustration from his dirty words.

You hadn’t noticed when he retracted his fingers from your depths, but you definitely felt the sensation of him rubbing his dick into your folds. The smooth surface of his tip contrasted sharply with the roughness of the pad of his thumb. You hadn’t even realized that he had slipped the waistband of his sweatpants down to free his erection.

The sensation was beginning to sober you up just a little.

As he slipped inside you, you keened, angling your hips to receive him. He kept one hand hooked around your panties to keep it to the side and circled the other around your waist to allow himself to lay atop you. All of his body weight crushed you into the couch, but the closeness of him on you was gratifying.

Jungkook dug his face into your neck, moaning softly as your velvet walls parted to caress his cock. He wanted to feel your pussy drag on him and squeeze in an attempt to bring him back inside. He needed to feel how much your body enjoyed him inside of you.

So he kept his movements to a slow minimum, lazily curling his hips to just barely rear back so that he could reenter with an unmotivated rhythm. It was perfect for you because your mind was already warm and fuzzy, unable to keep up with much.

You sighed in relief, feeling his skin rubbing against your clit as he bottomed out time and time again. He separated your walls agonizingly slow, yet it was the perfect rhythm that allowed you to feel each time the head of his dick kissed the end of your cavern.

You moaned softly as the movie played on, begging for attention but receiving none. It was no use ignoring the fact that your orgasm was building with Jungkook’s hips touching your skin. Even at the leisurely pace that he fucked you, the passion was ever present and working you up.

For the next ten minutes, Jungkook kept his tempo gentle and relaxed, uncaring of reaching his climax too soon. You, on the other hand, reached your tipping point as he dug his nails into your waist.

Almost like a dream, your orgasm layered itself onto you softly. You trembled under his weight but held him closer to help accommodate the bliss of your muscles contracting around Jungkook’s deliberate thrusts.

When you heard the tell-tale sign of your boyfriend softly grunting into your skin, you could tell he was beginning to feel his impending orgasm born from your own. It was only moments later that he began leaving sloppy kisses and love bites onto your neck as he shuddered a breath.

Calm and still quite drunk, you still managed to feel his cock pulsing against the restrictive embrace of your depths. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled delightfully at the sensation of being the one to receive his love and affection. The temptation to to kiss his sweaty temple was too strong to resist once he ceased moving and slumped against you.

The silence was peaceful. Minutes had passed without a word. The afterglow of your sex was strong and loving, warming the two of you like a blanket.

From the way he breathed so evenly, you believed that Jungkook had fallen asleep. It was only when he let out a light chuckle that you looked down and saw him smiling with his cheek smushed against your chest.

“I like drunk sex.” He muttered. “It’s fun.”

You had to agree with him on that one. “I think it’s fun too.”

After a beat, he whined. “But why do I still want moreee?”

“I’m afraid that’s not entirely up to you.” You tipped your head back and laughed, inebriated mind coming up with more silly nicknames. “It seems that Mister PP can’t take any more right now.”

Drunk Jungkook was one you could always get behind. Instead of acting like an idiot, he acted like a kid- not the bratty kind, of course. He was cute and cuddly, a perfect opposite to how he acted sober.

However-

The moment he attempted to retain his erection by pulling it out of you and yelling at it became one of the few moments that he acted like a complete idiot.

“No! He can go again! Isn’t that right, Mister PP?” You watched as his dick gave one last jerk of life before it began softening. You wheezed from laughter as your boyfriend’s eyes widened in horror. “No! You can’t do this to me right now! We were supposed to fuck her full of cum!”

“It’s okay, babe.” You reassured him as you slowly nudged him off of you so that you could go clean yourself. “Just take a break, okay?”

On shaky legs, once again, you stood and headed for the bathroom to clean yourself with a giggle slipping past your lips.

Once you got back to the living room, your eyes immediately zeroed in on Jungkook sitting upright on the couch, tenderly stroking his dick through his sweatpants with a look of defeat on his face. You just sighed and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume of the TV in hopes of distracting him.

He couldn’t help it. He was much too drunk to get himself hard again so soon after sex, so you would wait until he was since he was so determined.

The movie as well as your second bottle of wine were coming to an end when he screamed in success. You jumped out of your skin at the exclamation, placing a hand over your racing heart.

“Yes! He did it! He’s back!” You looked at him in shock when he reached into his waistband to grip himself. His eyes locked with yours as he did so, smirking in the process.

You raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, yet below your cool exterior was the unavoidable truth that was the awakening of the flames of your desire.

“Is this why you called me out today?” You turned your whole body to face him. “So you could fuck me all day?”

“Mhm.” He affirmed, grabbing you and slowly turning you onto your stomach. “That’s exactly why. I just need to be inside you. Like, all the time.”

As you felt him slide your panties down your legs, the tone in his voice changed. The chuckle he let out wasn’t nearly cute and innocent anymore; his demeanor became dark and menacing.

“I called you out so that I could fuck you all day- in every way I could think of.”

A shiver ran up your spine at the sudden shift of mood. Your body, worn out and exhausted, still managed to vibrate in excitement when Jungkook took a handful of your ass and squeezed it harshly. He leaned over your body to whisper in your ear after running a hand under your shirt to tweak a nipple between his fingers.

“You got the lazy vanilla shit first. Now, let’s play.”

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Masterlist!

[alicedopey]

Heartless: VI

(edit by my sweet @naaladareia)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut

Pairing: Harald / Reader

Words number: 3452

Warnings: Smut ahead, angst, mention of violence

A thrall was devoted to her master and her day consisted in doing her chores. There was no time for laziness or…waiting. You were not used to this unbearable wait where you could do nothing to pass the time. Sitting nicely on a fur was not what you were used to and it was disconcerting to feel so useless in some way. You tried to keep yourself busy: smoothing the sheets and furs on the King’s makeshift bed, tidying the small tent - - but right now, you were going around in circles, nervously walking back and forth in the tent and your heavy woolen skirt was sweeping the floor in place of your old broom.

The wait was long and unbearable but at the same time you did not want it to end. This would mean you would have to go without knowing if the King was alive and well. You definitely did not want that to happen. But, if you stayed what would become of you?

That is when your heard it. Steps. Heavy steps squishing in the mud and making their way towards you. You scanned the room anxiously. It offered no place to hide so you had no choice but confronting whoever was coming your way. What if it was a warrior of Ivar the Boneless? What if it was one of Harald’s men coming to announce his death in spite of them winning the battle?

A flap of the tent suddenly opened to reveal a bloody Baldwin. Your shoulders sagged with relief. They had really won the battle this time...or so you thought until Baldwin’s sinister face made you freeze.

“Come with me.”

He turned around without giving another word and you hastily followed, your pouch of gold forgotten on the floor.

The valley around the camp was silent except for the wind blowing furiously in your face. As if it was not difficult enough to keep up with Baldwin’s furious pace. Something was wrong. Harald would have never sent him to fetch you, even if he was his most faithful soldier. There was probably some trouble he was trying to solve with the Ragnarssons or Baldwin would not be here with you, looking so stern.

The closer you got to Kattegat, the worse you felt. When the two of you finally reached the famous town, you were exhausted and out of breath from almost running after Baldwin. What you saw really took your breath away and made your stomach churn. Several corpses were covering the grounds of Kattegat: some dead; others mutilated or simply beheaded. You felt as if you were going through a sea of blood as you went deeper into town.

Bjorn and Gunnhild were standing side by side, their faces painted with war paints and blood.  Hvitserk was not very far away from them, sitting on a rock and wearing a deep scowl on his face.

Several injured soldiers were being taken care of by thralls and healers. No trace of Harald, though. A shiver ran down your spine. Where was the King?

“Come on, hurry up!” You startled at Baldwin’s booming voice and went after him.

He led you through the Great Hall and entered the master’s bedroom. Queen Freydis was lying on the bed, seeming to be asleep but you knew better. You turned your eyes away from the scene and looked at the floor while you kept walking. At some point, you bumped into Baldwin who had come to a stop in another chamber.

There was your King Harald, lying unconscious on a bed of furs. Tears welled up in your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling. His persona healer was taking care of him, the same who had helped you get better when you were attacked.

She turned her eyes towards you at the sound of your steps. “Ah! Here is the special thrall of the King. Glad to see you standing on your feet, girl.”

You smiled softly at the old woman who had saved your life, praying inwardly she would do the same with the King.

“Will he be alright?” Baldwin asked grouchily, watching the healer applying some herbal ointment on Harald’s bare torso where you supposed his injury was.

Letting out a deep sigh, the healer washed her hands with an old cloth and stood up.  

“He lost a good amount of blood but his wound is clean now. All he needs is some rest, he should wake up in a few hours if the healing goes well.” She paused to let the piece of information process in your brains. “Warn me when he does.”

She left the two of you in a somewhat tense silence. You waited for him to tell you what you had to do like the good thrall you were.

He heaved a deep sigh, closely watching Harald. Was he affected as well?

“You heard her. Stay with him and call for me when he wakes up.”

His eyes never left the King as he talked to you. He looked at him a few more seconds and he left.

Tentatively, you approached the bed and knelt down beside Harald. He looked so peaceful and so beautiful. You could not resist and traced the tattoos on his face with your fingertips. His skin was surprisingly soft, except for his board which had gently rubbed your face when the two of you kissed. Your face got hot at the memory and it annoyed you to say the least.

You had no right to act like a virgin maiden falling in love for the first time. This was not your place. This was not your fate. Serving was your only purpose, there was no room for any feelings in this situation.

You promptly folded your hands on your lap, furious against yourself. Something wet touched your fists and your realized you were crying. For you King or for yourself…you did not know but it was a bittersweet reminder that you could feel indeed.

Time flew and you did not move one bit, praying for the King’s recovery. Sometimes he groaned or moved and you hoped he would open his eyes…but nothing came.

Night had fallen but you did not feel the need to sleep. You were too anxious. The last thing you wanted was Harald to die while you were sleeping.

“Still unconscious?”

You struggled to stand up, your feet getting caught in your heavy dress. Baldwin was back, stern as ever. You nodded weakly.

“Yes, unfortunately but he does not have a fever so there is no infection.”

“Good.” He brusquely handed you a bowl full of what looked like chicken stew and stomach growled at the mouth-watering smell. “I figured you might be hungry.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, bowing your head respectfully. You took the bowl gratefully and started eating silently with a wooden spoon. You could feel Baldwin’s stare on you, watching your every move.

Your meal vanished quickly, you were hungrier than you thought. The soldier gave you a wry smile as you blushed, embarrassed.

“Devoted little thrall knows to enjoy the things given to her…. or that she takes by herself.”

You frowned at his words and your eyed widened when you saw he was holding the bag of coins Harald had given you.

“I found this on the floor in the King’s tent. Did you forget your loot?”

Of course, he believed you had stolen from the King.

“Leave her alone, Baldwin.” You gasped and the bowl fell from your hands. This hoarse voice could have made you cry of joy. You wanted to come closer but Baldwin stopped you.

“Go and fetch the healer, Y/N!”

You were not one to ignore a direct order but since your master was alive, you waited for him to make a comment. Baldwin tsked in annoyance as the King confirmed you should go. He watched you walk away and only talked to the King when the sounds of your step had died down.

“How are you feeling, King?”

Harald coughed and struggled to take a sitting position. “I’ve felt worse.”

His warrior nodded sternly and looked intently at the bag of gold.

“I gave it to her.”

Baldwin repressed the urge to sigh. “Of course, you did.”

“She is trustworthy.”

“Of course, she is.”

Harald was the one to sigh. “I wanted to give her a chance to escape.”

Baldwin shook his head. “What if she did? Huh? King, I sincerely hope you know what you are doing. The last thing you want is for this to end up like with…”

“I know what I am doing.” Harald snarled, making himself cough again.

Frankly, he was not sure but he would never admit it…least of all to one of his warriors. Baldwin reminded him of Halfdan and this unnerved him. His brother was always suspicious of women – that is the ones who crossed Harald’s path. And he was always right. But this time…this time he wished he was the one to be right. He could feel something was different with Y/N.

Baldwin knew he had crossed a line and did not pus the subject. The two men did not have to stay in this tense silence before you went back with the King’s personal healer.

The old woman closely inspected Harald’s wound and cleaned it before spreading the herbal ointment once again and protecting it with a clean piece of cloth.

“You should be fine. Tomorrow, you will get something to eat but for now, only water allowed.” She deposited a jug of water and a horn near the bed and walked back towards the Great Hall. “I could use some help with the injured warriors, big man.”

Harald snorted at her tone and smirked at Baldwin who rolled his eyes before going after her.

Harald motioned for you to step closer with his hand. You did and he took your hand in his when you were near enough.

“Lie down with me.”

“My King, your wound…”

“…will be fine as long as you don’t ride me.” He winked wickedly and you blushed so much your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Nodding, you let go of his hand, got rid of your dress and took place next to him with caution.

Harald gently tugged you against him and you nuzzled your head in his neck despite yourself. Once of his hands caressed your back. His heat, his smell, his breathing appeased you. Your eyelids dropped and you finally fell asleep.

It took some days for Harald to recover but he finally was up and well. He had kept you close to him and you almost felt guilty for spending those days in bed. Of course, you took care of him but he would not let you leave his side, even when he was asleep and almost ordered you to stay with him at all costs.

Baldwin did not say a word but he did not need to. His eyes were clearly mocking you because he had realized how embarrassed you were.

He also had this smile when he was looking at the King. He seemed to be really fond of him after all and you had to admit it surprised you a lot. He looked so stern and severe all the time…especially with you. He was giving you the impression that he was trying to protect the King from you. As if you could be a threat…if only he knew you would not hurt King Harald for the world. You wanted him to be happy, even if it was not with you.

Happy he was when Bjorn had told him he wanted to organize a feast now that he could celebrate the victory with them. The new King of Kattegat was currently standing, Harald before him.

“To the warrior who chose honor over victory and greed, who endangered his life to save mine so that I could become King of Kattegat and reign over it with my queen.” He raised his drink. “Sköl my friend.”

Harald inclined his head as the crowd joined their King and raised their drinks to honor King Harald. Your chest swelled with pride and you castigated yourself for acting as a proud wife…especially because in the back of your mind, something was bothering you in Bjorn’s speech.

You did not have time to think about it though. Harald called you near him and you took place next to him….and the royal couple. Once again, you felt embarrassed and out of place but quietly waited for the King to call it a night.

Harald dismissed you after a while but what seemed odd this time was that he joined you in the chamber a few minutes afterwards.

“Are you in need of anything, my King?”

“Just you my dear Y/N. Just you.”

His words made you gulp. So, did the way he approached you with a dark gaze, full of lust.

“That is, if you are willing to…”

You eyed him suspiciously, searching for any sing of mockery…nothing. He was not even drunk.

“I almost died. You almost died. Life is short and I don’t want to leave this earth before getting a taste of you.” He was so close; your mouths were almost touching. “But if you don’t want to…”

“No…I mean yes. I want to, my King.”

He smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes and created those sexy wrinkles you liked so much. What were you doing? You did not know but what you certainly knew was that a night between your King’s arms would not hurt anyone, not even you…or would it?

So, you kissed him, cupping his cheeks between your hands. Harald gave you the lead, waiting for you to ask for more. The tip of your tongue slid between his lips and met his own tongue. He kissed you back, his tongue running smoothly against yours. His hands finally dared embrace you. His gestures were hesitant though, as if he was waiting for you to push him away so you clung your body to his, giving him your assent.

That was the signal Harald desperately needed. His hand went from your back to your ass cheeks – that he gripped fiercely before pushing them forwards. Your core met his pelvis and a jolt of electricity ran through your body. Your lips got separated. Both of you were heavily panting, your bodies undulating with fever against the other.

Tentatively, you slid your hand under his deep burgundy tunic and felt his muscles tense under your touch. Smiling, you helped him getting rid of the piece of clothing. He took of his pants and boots. The view of his body was breathtaking. You never got the chance to see him fully naked. It was quite a sight.

Harald took advantage of your dazed taste to take your clothes off. You only noticed your nakedness when you felt his lips leaving butterfly kisses on your skin. His beard gently itched your shoulders, the swell of your breasts…then he took a nipple between his teeth and tugged on it. You gasped and pushed his head against your chest so that he would keep going. Harald gladly complied, sucking one nipple, then the other. The sensations were unspeakable. Your body was on fire. A fire he would the one able to extinguish, you noted as his lips went down your body and worshiped every inch of it, leaving you breathless. You could not believe the sounds you were making – it was a first. Men you had been with took, they did not give. But King Harald seemed to be a giver. He set his lips on your scar, kissing it so tenderly you could have wept. Nonetheless, when his lips reached your sex, you tensed. Harald sensed your hesitation and looked up at you.

“None of your masters made you discover such a thing?”

You fervently shook your head. Harald seemed to consider making you discover it himself but once again, he could you were feeling uneasy.

He stood up, kissed you and made you step backwards to the bed. When you had reached your destination, Harald turned you over and let himself fall on the bed.

You took the time to admire his body one more time – his toned chest, his muscled legs, his…erected sex falling against his stomach. You moistened your dry lips with the tip of your tongue. He was mouthwatering and your insides clenched as the nasty thought to devour him entirely crossed your mind.

“You are coming?” His voice. This hoarse voice that sent shivers through your skin and made you weak in the knees.

Almost shyly, you knelt on the bed and lay down next to him. Your hands explored his body with the bashfulness of a virgin. It was the first time a man was let you really touch him – and not to just help him jerk off. Speaking of which, you looked at his erected member and force once, it did not seem threatening – quite the contrary. Feeling bold, you massaged his balls and gently scratched his length with your nails.

“Fuck!” Harald hissed and you smiled. Leaning over, you took him in your mouth, inch by inch. The King pushed his groin upwards to urge you to take him deeper. This power you suddenly had over him made you feel good; You never had this kind of experience before and you had to admit it was really pleasurable.

Suddenly, Harald reached for you. Your eyes met and you stopped, confused. Maybe you had crossed a line.

He smiled reassuringly. “You have to stop. Otherwise, I won’t be able to hold back…and that is not how I want to finish.”

His words made you blush but what he said next set your cheeks on fire. “Ride me.”

He meant…?

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“I’ve never been…”

“You will like it.” He stroked your hip and looked deeply into your eyes. “Trust me.”

Of course, you trusted him and it was ever so tempting. A man was giving you the upper hand during sex for the first time.

Hesitantly, you rode him. Your slick entrance touched his pulsating and hot member and you began rocking your body back and forth, rubbing your sex against his. Harald let out a growl. He was getting impatient, you could tell. His blue eyes had almost turned dark with lust and he was doing his best to control himself.

You decided to put an end to his misery so you caught his shaft between your fingers and slid over it. He stretched your walls in the most pleasuring way. Your head fell backwards and you moaned in pleasure. Your breath was already erratic and you had not moved an inch yet. This sensation was unknown, never had a man made you feel this way – having him inside of you was both a torture and an everlasting pleasure. You tilted your head upwards to look him in the eye as you started jumping up and down on his dick.

His hands rested on your hips but you were the one to give the pace of your lovemaking. Slow and smooth, your moves created the sweetest friction between his pubic bone and a very sensitive point in your core. Harald’s hands traveled up your breasts to kneed them sensually.

A bubble was growing inside you…something you would define as a tickle, but a burning tickle that made your pant and sweat. Usually, sex was painful for you but now – definitely not.

The burning tickle was intensifying. You looked at Harald, utterly lost.

“My King, I…”

“Shh…you’re doing so good. Don’t be scared, love. Let…”. His teeth clenched, he was growing inside you. “Let go, sweet thing.”

You let go. Your body shook and a deep shout, almost a growl left your mouth. Harald gripped your breasts almost painfully and tilted his hips upwards as he came in heavy spurts coating your inner walls.

Sated, sweaty and panting, you fell on him. Harald’s own hot breath blew on your lips. Wrinkles appeared on his face as he smiled and he set a sweet kiss upon your lips.

His softened sex left your body. You tried to disentangle yourself from him but Harald kept you close, only letting you slide down his body to rest next to him.

You put your head on his chest. He embraced your body with one arm, his fingers gently tracing circles on your thigh thrown upon his own. A contented sigh fell off your lips, all worried had left your body. You listened to his soft heartbeat which lulled you to sleep.

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia @therealcalicali @peaceisadirtyword @tephi101 @mblaqgi @captstefanbrandt @thevikingsheaux @two-unbeatable-beaters @alhenablack @neeadinghugs @bangtanandbruno @uncomfortable-writers @itshippiesworld @ivarswickedqueen @ivarslittlebadgirl @akamaiden

[parkeraul]

B L O O M  —  P R O L O G U E

He’s got her body supported by both arms under her back, hands holding the back of her head where he could get his fingers all lost in her soft hair as she rested against his touch and he leaned his chest to lie down on hers. His face milimiters apart from hers so he can look deep in her brown eyes, getting darker and darker with the pleasure of his thrusts going deeper, hitting all of her sweet and most sensitive spots. She’s got her nails scratching all the expansion of his back, leaving stripes wherever she could reach and the red lines started crossing their ways, embellishing his skin in that burning — yet delicious — sensation that she can always provide him with perfection. 

The way her smooth thighs were surrounding his waist; the way she starts panting everytime he finds her vulnerable points and buries his member boldly to earn that priceless view of her rolling her eyes to the back of her head and arching her back closer to him; the way she kisses him with so much desire, locking and unlocking their lips with lust, only letting go to ask for more... All of these things seemed to get Shawn on his knees for Angel. He wants her, he craves her, he needs to have her all the time at the point she could barely have a free time without receiving calls and messages from him. He knows he should keep it to himself, but she gets the best of him. She gets him crawling like a baby towards her, doing whatever she wants him to do because there is no other way. It shows. He can’t hide how fucked he is for her. 

A single curl falls from its place, bringing some other short strands to tickle his forehead and, consequently, hers too. His hazel eyes are practically turning her eyes into flames by the way he kept on staring at her fixedly. Her parted red lips letting out what he thinks that are the prettiest sounds he’d ever heard in his entire life. He’s sliding into her with passion and he feels like he’s never been inside of her so delightfully pleasant before, a thrust more delicious than the other as he gradually picks up the intensity of his movements, her body shifting up and making him move every inch she moved instantly, desperate just to the thought of having her silhouette leaving his touch for a single moment.  He wants to make every second worth. Wants to seize these hours like they were the last moments of his entire life. He never gave all of himself to anyone like he gives to her. His entire body, mind and soul are consumed by her: her beautiful face — so near their noses are nudging gently, lips brushing together; her pretty moans sounding like music to his ears and making goosebumps show up all over his limbs; her heavenly body underneath his, clinging to each other and feeling the softness of their frames rubbing together like a tender caress; her intoxicating scent, always getting stuck on his sheets and clothes and pushing him over the edge even when she wasn’t there; her sex — the way they make sex — mostly unpredictable & surprisingly good in every single time. It’s all about her. No matter the rhythm they pick, it seems like everything happens in a slow motion. His hips thrusting back and forth, slapping against her core and skin so forcefully that the sound of the two of them together echoes throughout the room shamelessly, only incentivating Shawn to pound harder inside her dripping heat.  “Come to me, love. Just like that,” He whispers against her mouth and she travels her hands from his back to the nape of his neck, tugging his dark curls eagerly. A cry flies out her throat and gets muffled by a sudden kiss. He shoves his cock hungrily, craving all the reactions from her shaking body and moves his tattooed hand to cup her cheek shyly, his calloused thumb resting carefully on top of her cheekbone and maping the flushy skin delicately, definitely nothing compared to the way he pushed strongly against her. She breaks the kiss with a smack to look him deep in the eyes and gives him one of the things he wishes he could watch in looping everyday: her innocent expression — half intentional, half filled with a insuppressible desire to reach her so-wanted release. She feels her entrance aching deliciously, that knot on her lower stomach about to collapse and her legs failing around his waist. “Oh, fuck.” He reacts, barely sound to mutter anything else. His face contorts in pleasure and she can’t help but take a handful of his face, holding and pinning him down on hers by the jaw.  And, simultaneously, they give each other the sign that they’re currently being washed over with their highs. She whimpers and Shawn feels like he’s choking on what’s left of his air, unable to let out anything stronger than a groan coming from under his breath, almost like a deep guttural sigh. Both their most sensible spots pulsating, throbbing from probably the most intense orgasm they’ve ever provided each other and it’s hard to come back to reality, bodies squirming and pressed together since he’s now weighing down on her in the kindest way he can right now. 

He knows the script from now on. That’s what always snaps him back to Earth. 

She’ll dress up, stealing his white dress shirt to style with her black jeans perhaps, give him a flat goodbye and leave. It became so authomatic that he wonders why the hell does it still hurts him so much if he knows how things are? 

“Didn’t know you could fuck like that, honestly.” Her hands drops to his shoulders for a moment before trying to pull him away.  “Saved this new little thing for you, darling,” Shawn mumbles in a deep and low tone, arching one eyebrow in everything but humbleness. “How was it? Was it good for you?” A grin appears tiredly.  “You’re the worst, Mendes,” She shakes her head from side to side in denial. “The worst.”  She pecks his lips quickly and he knows it’s a silent sign for ‘get up and let me leave, please’. So, he removes himself out of her with caution and promptly sits on his knees, fixing his hair back in its place. Taking a deep breath, she sits and feels her entrance a litle bit sore, having difficulty to stand up on her feet. He lies back and watches her perfect shape tiptoe across his room, stretching her back and passing her hands through her hair as well — something that he likes to see as a manner she’s got from him.  “I wouldn’t call myself the worst after fuckin’ you so good seconds ago,” Shawn bends both arms to rest under his head, eyes never leaving her naked body searching for her clothes.  “You didn’t fuck me. Shawn Mendes doesn’t fuck.” She spits out and he frowns immediately, seeing her bringing the lace to up her legs to cover herself partly.  “Excuse me? You were shaking for dear life under me in this bed, hun,” He’s so offended he’s raised his voice a little and spoke pointing to his own mattress, like she had even forgotten. “Don’t be such a bad kitten now, Angel. Unless you have time for me to prove you otherwise.” He rolls slightly and makes those puppy eyes she learned to avoid the best way she could.  “M-Mm, smarty pants,” She clasps her bra and clicks her tongue towards him. “I see what you’re doing, I know where you’re going.”  He gets up in a heartbeat and rushes his steps, holding her middle gracefully like they’re a 50′s couple immersed in love.  “Did I really fuck you that bad, Angel?” Shawn’s worried, he can’t even lie. It means the world to him when he makes her feel good enough to see stars beneath her eyelids.  “No,” She giggles and he holds her face with both hands, never breaking eye contact. “I just said Shawn Mendes doesn’t fuck.”  “What does that even mean?”  “You can’t fuck, Shawn,” She holds his wrist and stretches her finger to rub random patterns against his tattoo. “You never fuck. You only make love.”  “What’s the difference?” He’s in the merge of getting squeaky, playing the fool because he knows that there’s a huge difference.  He’s got himself in a trap. He knows well what he should do to get rid of it, but he’s not even trying that hard to leave it so soon. He loves her more than just when she’s screaming his name like it’s the only word she knows; he loves to make her laugh with stupid cheesy lines and awful jokes. He loves seeing her getting dressed, undressed, in a cloth of his and covered by his sheets only. He loves every freckle, every mark and every curve. He loves the littlelest things he thought he kept locked somewhere safe in his heart, but it’s obvious to say that she sees right through him and is totally aware of his real intentions. Needless to say he’s now assuming these emotions coming to their surface and blooming unstoppably.  “You know the difference.” She says seriously, ready to leave his embrace.  “Stay the night.” He holds her tighter.  “No.”  “I’ll pay for the extra hours.”  “I said no.”  “Please, Angel.”  “You sound like a toddler.”  “Whatever you say.” A boyish smile plays on his features, pissing her off even more.  “Get off me!”  “Fuckin’ make me.”  She’s ready to say something in return but he’s faster, catching her by the back of her thighs and going back to bed. As soon as she gets sprawled in his messy bed, he kisses her with hunger. He presses his lips furiously against hers and she lets him, reciprocating with the same amount of passion. It’s a replay of heads tilting, tongues dancing and caressing each other in a way she can feel her lungs screaming for air.  He trails his fast kisses to her jaw, peppering them along her neck and she closes her eyes, floating in her own paradise.  Her phone rings in the nightstand and Shawn stops gradually, attentive on what’s about to happen.  “Be there in 10.” She says before shutting her screen. Gently, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him away.  He lets her out to get in her jeans and shirt, loving the way she takes her hair out of the fabric to let it swing and cascade over her back and shoulders.  “Can’t really stay, eh?” He's aware of her answer but still wants to confirm. Who knows?  “Told you you’re not my only client.”  “But I’m your best.”  “Don’t flatter yourself, love-maker.” She rolls her eyes and can’t hold back a wide smile.  “You know I am,” He insists. “Admit it.”  She stays quiet, grabbing her leather jacket after shoving her feet in her shoes fastly.  “C’mon, Angel,” He approaches her once again, letting himself get compelled by her before she goes. “Hm?” He grips her chin and pecks her lips.  “Yes, Mendes,” She gets interrupted by one more peck. “You’re the best-hottest-love-maker,” Another peck. “Biggest cock and greatest six pack,” Last long peck. “Happy?”  “Doesn’t hurt to say it once in a while.” He smirks and lets her go. Just when she’s about to hold the doorknob, she listens his voice calling her again.  “I wonder if you’re ever gonna let me know your real name someday.” But he thinks more to himself than speaks to her.  “Get to find it by yourself and I promise I’m yours forever.”  “Forever?”  “Just like you want us to be.”  She winks and steps out, knowing her way out and that she might have placed a huge and dangerous bet in here. 

[euphoricpixi3]

TASTE OF MENACE |5| OT7!MAFIA AU

— Masterlist in my bio

— Pairings | this chapter | a little bit of jimin x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader, jin x reader

— Through the story | reader x others as the story progresses

— Warning | this story contain smoking, swearing, tattoos, drinking,  blood and drugs. This is a mafia!au!yandere

— Summary | Your first time watching the underground fight took a completely wrong turn, why were you the only one laying lifeless on the cold ground when you weren’t even fighting?

You jerked upright, panicked, but your arms refused to move. Something sharp and cold dug into your skin. You looked down and saw there were handcuffs holding your hands to the table.

The door opened and slammed shut, making you jump a little with the only slack you had. “I’m glad you’re back” Yoongi said. Your eyelids felt heavy, yet you didn’t miss a second of him moving.

“What is your name,” The male said crankily seating himself into the chair opposite to you. It wasn’t the best idea to stay silent, but the lump in your throat made you tightly press your lips. "TELL ME.” He repeated sternly. You felt the coldness envelope you, your lack of response provoked Yoongi till he lost his temper, suddenly Yoongi broke the cuffs and then wrapped his large hands around your throat and squeezed. He raised you off the ground. You kicked and squirmed, but it was no use. Just as your vision went blurry, a familiar man came in, and Yoongi dropped you to the ground, making you crash onto the cold tiles.

Your gaze followed the dark red spots standing out on the blindly white floor. If it wasn’t for your empty stomach, you would have definitely purged your guts out. The metallic smell lingering in the air just confirmed that it was dried blood.

Disgusting.

“I thought our Taehyung would almost kill you, yet here we are” Namjoon darkly chuckled intensively staring at your laying body on the cold ground, clinging for air.

“She didn’t tell me her name” Yoongi mumbled before sitting back.

You felt as if you were drowning in a deep ocean and the sound of your name made you look up. The look on Namjoon’s face sent shivers down your spine, he was playing with you, like the rest of them, you were stuck in a doll house.

The tip of your nose crunched, if it weren’t for the situation, Yoongi and Namjoon would’ve thought you looked cute, but it wasn’t the case.

“How do you know my name?” you managed to croak out, your voice cracking painfully at the end.

You weren’t the only wondering that, Yoongi had also questioningly looked Namjoon’s way.

For some reason your question satisfied the grey haired male, seemingly as he crunched down to your level.

“Ah I’m glad you just confirmed my guess” his soothing voice made you squirm “You see, I wasn’t sure if it was really you, since you didn’t seem like that type of girl. Lesson learned once again, never judge the book by its cover” the last part was a low whisper, his soft fingers brushing down against your bruised cheek.

“What type…What are you talking about?” you asked, but your desperate questions flared something deep in Namjoon, his grip suddenly getting tighter, making you whine.

Just as quickly, he stood up and started to walk away. He turned slowly, not even bothering to look down your away. “We don’t like liars. Yoongi, lock her up, let’s wait till she starts talking”

**

As soon as Yoongi dropped you to the cell, your exhaustion and pain caught up with you making you pass out.

So now, when your eyes were wide open, you didn’t know how much time passed, minutes, hours or maybe even a day.

Surrounded by four white walls, there was nothing else to do but stare at them.

The cell was a hollow cube, one way in, no windows. The isolation was total, no sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind. It was all an inmate could do to feel the cool walls, but even they were smooth.

You guessed more hours passed as the old door slowly opened revealing Jin, if it wasn’t for the syringes in his hands, you would be relieved that Jin was here, since he seemed the nicest out of all of them, but you only crawled away, feeling the pecks of something scratch your palms.

“What did they do to you” Jin quietly gasped quickly moving your way, making your cry out loud from the sudden fear rushing to your body.

Your scream stopped him in his tracks. “You don’t have to be scared of me, I’m here to help” he whispered, his pitiful gaze followed your terrified one, stopping right on the syringes.

“Namjoon gave orders to forbid you from water, so the pain killers are in liquid form” Jin answered, nodding his reassuring you that it was okay. But you only moved away, shaking your head.

“You have to take them, the pain will be too much” he tried again, his dark eyes staring into yours.

His shoulders dropped in disappointment as you shook your head “Then I guess my job is done here.”

**

As the time passed, you knew it was a new day, you also knew why Jin wanted you to take the painkillers.

The bruises and wounds caused by Yoongi and Taehyung started to really hurt. That kind of pain, where it feels as if someone has their hand in there and are squeezing your organs either gently or as hard as they can.

You’re glad there’s no blood, but every part of you that wasn’t covered by the thin fabric, was purple and lumpy where it should be smooth.

Yet, as fucked up as it sounds, you were glad for the constant throbbing, it kept you sane. Because for the first time in your life you found yourself really alone. Of course, there were days where you would lock yourself in your room for a whole week, just because you felt that way, or back to that time, when your heart was broken by two people, your ex best friend and your ex boyfriend.

You remember that day as if it was yesterday, walking into your apartment after a long day and seeing them two on your kitchen counter. You were furious, wasting no time you kicked them out and when they were gone, the only thing you did was stare numb at the wall in front of you. You didn’t cry, you never cry out of emotions, that’s now how you were raised.

If we’re being honest, the void is still there, seeing as it only happened few months ago and it’s not that easy to forget two years of relationship and a friendship that lasted even longer.

But that’s how you met Eve, she was a girl living next door, who got worried about her neighbor, she appeared at your doorstep “There’s no annoying music blasting at three am and as far as I know you still live here, so I just wanted to know if everything’s ok”.

The only thing you could do was shake your head and let her in, that’s how your friendship bloomed.

But now, now you were alone and utterly terrified. You sat in the corner, your back pressed against the cold tiles and hands shivering along the smooth walls. You lay your head gently on the hard surface on the floor, puffs of warm breath threading out of your lips.

You knew you had to change your position because this one was getting too far uncomfortable. But as you tried to lie down, the pain shot through your body, it wasn’t like the aching you had before, it’s like something suddenly tear you open.

Suddenly something warm started gushing from your stomach.

Blood from Taehyung’s knife wound.

You gritted your teeth trying to stay silent, but as your hand accidentally brushed against the open wound, you cried out.

And just like that you were crying, for the first time in ten years you were sobbing not only because of the physical pain, but also emotional. Everything you ever hold in, sadness, happiness, confusion, all of this was slipping away from your grasp, your togetherness was slipping away and you couldn’t do anything about it but cry even more.

 3rd. POV

From one of the cells came the most hysterical crying, the screaming sobs only interrupted by the person's need to draw breath.

It didn’t take much thinking to Jimin, to know who it was. His face creased and his fists closed so tight he can feel the sweat trapped inside them, he wasn’t sure if he should check the poor girl or not, but as the screams only got louder, he didn’t want the other guards to come and get her.

Unsurely he moved towards the back of the hall, his steps echoing through the place. As his hands grasped the locks, opened doors revealed the girl laying down in her own blood, his eyes didn’t miss the small smile on her face.

Before your eyelids fluttered shut he heard her whisper something, that made his heart clench, even if he didn’t admit it.

“Maybe if I’ll wait a little longer, I’ll be long gone and forgotten. Maybe.”

[thethespacecoyote]

I just wanted to write a thing where mob Jack saves pregnant detective Rhys from a burning building, thats all this is

Jack was about ready to go home.

He hadn’t even bothered to dress up in his usual duds for this job, merely slinging one of his blazers on over a shirt. After all, a little evidence-burning wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. Even if said “evidence” was an entire warehouse down at the harbor.

Whatever. Jack had the dockworkers union paid off anyway. No one would suspect a thing until the cops came to investigate the smoking, burnt-out ruin.

Jack watched idly as his men moved in and out of the warehouse’s entrance, laying explosives and salvaging anything of value left inside before they blew the whole thing sky-high. The damp, night air kissed his skin, making him crave a cigar to warm himself up, but he hadn’t brought any with him. This was supposed to be a quick job. Torch the warehouse and anything left inside so Jack could curl up in bed for the rest of the night.

It’d been a little harder to get proper sleep lately, and Jack had always slept decently enough for someone with countless murders on his conscience. Didn’t help that the new detectives nipping at his heels were a hell of a lot less fun than their forebear. Jack pursed his lips at the memory of the last time he’d seen his sorely-missed Detective Somerset, who’d just had to go and get himself knocked up and thus ruin Jack’s fun by taking leave of his job. Jeez. Total buzzkill. Jack was really gonna let him have it as soon as he came back.

If he came back.

Jack hissed into the night air, feeling a little antsy. He watched as one of his underlings moved the last crate of explosives in through the door, before turning to his guard. Wilhelm grunted in response and cocked his eyebrow.

“Gonna take a walk. Keep an eye on these doofuses and make sure they don’t blow themselves up, huh?” Jack opened his jacket to show off the golden handle of a pistol shoved into his coat pocket when Wilhelm looked at him skeptically.

“I don’t need a frikkin’ babysitter, I can handle myself for a couple minutes,” Jack growled as he turned on his heels away from his guard and the rest of his scrambling men, walking down one side of the warehouse. He kept a respectable distance from the walls, just in case someone screwed up and detonated the explosives a little too early. Considering Jack only really trusted himself to do anything right, it seemed a valid concern.

He stuck his hands in his pants pockets, slouching into his stride as he walked through the misty night, the streetlights above him foggy and casting less light than they might usually. He tried to keep his mind clear of any unpleasant or annoying thoughts, idling casting his gaze about the deserted docks in front of him. There wasn’t much in this particularly spot apart from the warehouses, and the only noises he could make out were the distant sound of sirens and the hum of the freeways.

Jack was about ready to turn around and walk back to properly wrap this night up, when something near the end of the warehouse glinted in the faded moonlight. Jack stopped, recognizing the gleam of a car fender, then the short length of a grey-blue hood. He slid his hand into his jacket, fingering the handle of his gun as he started to approach once more. As he grew closer, got a better look at the car it became more and more familiar, sending a prickle of apprehension into his gut.

It was definitely Detective Somerse—Rhys’ car. Jack knew the license plate well, from pictures his men had snagged of the omega’s personal life. But Rhys wasn’t inside. In fact, as Jack looked around, he couldn’t see him anywhere. What the hell? Had something happened to him?

Jack peered through the dim window, eyes landing upon a sheaf of papers clipped onto a manila envelope. Was Rhys on a job?

No. That couldn’t be. Rhys was supposed to be on maternity leave. Jack hadn’t seen him out in the field in weeks now, for good reason. He was supposed to be away, tucked in his home nice and safe and getting chubby on ice cream pickles.

Jack’s heart plummeted as he turned away from the car, a sick suspicion rising up from his stomach as he raced back down the length of the warehouse back to where his men were gathered. He waved his arms and shouted, trying to grab their attention.

“Hey, assholes, wait! Don’t set it off yet, don’t—“

Jack couldn’t get any more words out as the building besides him suddenly detonated. The sounds of shredded metal and shattering ground blasted into his ears, nearly knocking him off of his feet. He stumbled forward, his stomach twisting itself in half as he watched flames explode out through the windows, littering the ground with shards of glass. Jack’s heart leapt up from the pit of his stomach into his throat, choking him as he watched the warehouse go up in flames.

“Damn it…damn it!” Jack snarled, deaf to the shouts of his men as they raced towards him. He wasn’t about to give up now, not when Rhys could still be inside that frikkin’ place. If Jack didn’t go and check if he was still alive, he would never forgive himself.

Jack stripped his blazer off his body as he raced into the warehouse’s side entrance, the heat emanating from the burning walls already too much to bear with the additional layer. He wrenched open the door and stumbled his way inside, coughing at the smoke that billowed out.

“Rhys!” He called, his voice scratching against his throat. The interior smelled awful, of burning raw materials and blast residue. He prayed that he was crazy, that maybe Rhys had never entered the warehouse at all—or that if he had, he’d been far enough away from the blast as to not render Jack’s rescue futile from the start.

The alpha dodged some broken glass and rounded a pile of wooden crates knocked askew in the explosion, only to find a pallet stacked high with reinforced concrete slabs standing in his way. Some pieces had already fell and cracked onto the floor, covering it in scattered rubble. Flames licked around on the other side, quickly eating at the structure holding them in place—yet even the smoke pouring in from all around couldn’t mask the figure lying limp and prone on the floor besides the stack.

“Shit, Rhys,” Jack scrambled forward, voice muffled by the hand clamped over his mouth. His leather shoes squeaked as he skidded to his knees besides the body, knocking away the bits of debris laying over the detective’s legs. For a moment Jack’s eyes swam too much to see whether he was breathing, but a press of fingers beneath Rhys’ jaw thankfully confirmed a fluttering pulse. Moments later the detective’s eyelids twitched, revealing bleary eyes that looked up at Jack without full understanding.

“Wh…what happened…” Rhys moaned before a rough cough cut across his words. His stomach, noticeably rounded beneath his uniform, shook with each gasp. Jack’s heart clenched with worry—smoke and blunt-force wounds weren’t exactly good for unborn pups—as he stripped off his shirt and pressed the balled material loosely over Rhys’ mouth and nose.

“Easy…easy cupcake, just breathe, I’m getting you out of here, ‘kay?” Jack assured as he slid his hands underneath Rhys’ legs and back, supporting him the best he could while remaining mindful of his belly and any potential injuries. Jack’s muscles strained as he heaved, swaying to his feet with Rhys cradled in his arms. The omega moaned into the shirt as he tried his best to hold it to his face. Jack turned his head and coughed, his lungs starting to hurt now from the heat and oily smoke as he rushed back towards the entrance, desperate to get back out into the cool night air.

“Boss!” Wilhelm grunted as Jack shouldered his way back out of the warehouse, his hands grabbing onto Jack’s shoulders and pulling him away just as a second, earth-shattering explosion burst behind him. Rhys cried out and flinched in the alpha’s arms as the building’s door nearly blew off its hinges, sending debris and busted glass scattering out over the ground.

“H-holy shit,” Jack gasped, casting a look behind him at the burning warehouse, before returning his attention to the omega in his arms. Rhys curled into Jack’s chest, cheek pressed up against one tattooed pec as he took deep breaths of the damp air. He held Jack’s shirt balled up in his hand like a teddy bear, something for his trembling fingers to cling onto.

“Rhys? Rhysie, you okay?” Jack crouched, laying the omega carefully down on the ground while keeping his back supported. Without thinking, Jack rested his hand atop the omega’s stomach, cupping the ample swell beneath his clothes.

“I…I think so…” Rhys gasped, his hand too coming to touch his belly, not bothering to push away Jack’s palm. “The…the baby…”

Jack ground his teeth together, his neck prickling with instinct. God. Rhys and his pup could’ve died in there. If Jack hadn’t been in just the right place at just the right time, the kid would’ve been frikkin’ toast. The thought made him want to cling on to Rhys and never let go, even if he was supposed to be on leave. Even if they sat clear on two opposite sides of the law.  

But he decided instead to do the next best thing. He looked up at Wilhelm who hovered above them, awaiting a command.

“Bring the car. We’re going back to my place. With him.” Jack slid his arm back underneath Rhys’ legs, managing to pull him up into his arms again even with the adrenaline starting to drain from his body. He could hear sirens off in the distance, steadily growing louder as the flames consuming the warehouse licked higher.

Jack moved in the direction of the car as Wilhelm raced on ahead to start it. He really wanted nothing less than to tangle with the cops tonight—especially as the only one he really cared about needed his help.

Whether Rhys wanted it or not.

[shu-of-the-wind]

From the ten types & tropes: rebelcaptain for 10-xiv threw a book at your head and detention pleaseeeeee

From the ten types &tropes: rebelcaptain for 10-xiv threw a book at your head and detentionpleaseeeeee

HOKAY SO. I hate writinghigh school fic, so I shifted it to college AU. XD

I also think this is from the same AU with Jyn having a broken leg and Cassian mothering her with food and cuddles and telenovelas. Which means this is their meeting for that AU. So there’s that.

For clarification:

xiv)  You pissed me off inclass so I threw a book at your head and now I’m in detention and jesus fuck Ihate you so much and the teacher made me apologise and wait you’re cuter upclose and the way you talk is kind of nice actually oh fuck no

“I hope I don’t have toexplain to you how many rules you just broke, doing that.”

Jyn folds her arms tightover her chest, and says nothing. She stares hard at the wall, and startsbouncing her foot. Across the desk, Mothma sighs tight through her nose, andfolds her hands together.

“Have you been going toyour sessions?”

“Yes,” says Jyn, becauseit’s the fastest way to get Mothma off her back. Mothma sighs again.

“You could be chargedfor assault.”

Jyn shrugs.

“You’re lucky you’re notbeing charged for assault, you know.” Mothma looks as though she wants torub her hands over her face, like she wants to put her head on the desk andmaybe bang it there a few times, just to give herself a concussion. “As it is I’mgoing to have to put you on academic probation. There’s going to have to be aninvestigation.”

Jyn shrugs.

“You could be expelledfor this,” says Mothma. Her voice gets tight. “I know you’re not exactly fondof school, Jyn—”

“Can I go?” Jyn asks,and stares at the wall rather than watch the hurt flicker over Mothma’s face.She doesn’t need to see Mon Mothma disappointed in her again. It happens thesame way every time, the crumpling brows and the pursed mouth. It’s like atattoo on the inside of her eyelids. “I have a shift to get to.”

“You’re not leavingwithout apologizing first,” says Mothma, and Jyn snaps her head around.

“I’m not apologizing tothat prick—”

“If you don’t he couldbring charges.”

“I don’t care—”

“This isn’t adiscussion.” Mothma stands, and wipes her hands off on her skirt. The scrape ofthe chair shuts Jyn up faster than anything else she could have said. Mothma’snot the sort to let chairs scrape, if she can help it. “Go and apologize. There’llbe a conduct hearing in a few weeks. You’ll get a letter in the mail. Don’t loseit.”

“Fine.” Jyn snags herbackpack up off the floor, heaves it over her shoulder. “I won’t.”

“This is your lastchance here, Jyn,” says Mothma, when her back is turned. Like slipping a knifebetween her ribs. “I can’t shove it under the rug this time. More than that, Iwon’t. I understand why it’s hard, but—”

“You don’t.” Sheshoves her free fist into her jacket pocket. “You don’t get it. You have noidea how hard it is.”

Mothma’s quiet, for awhile. She says, “Jyn, you have to deal with this.”

I know, Jyn thinks. Aloud, she says, “Whatever,” andleaves the dean’s office.

She can’t actuallyremember making the decision to throw the book. All the students in all her classespiss her off, but she’s never been that fucking stupid before. He’d just—been frustrating.Full of himself. She can’t even remember what he said, to make herso angry, but one minute she’d been trying to explain how wrong he was about thedefinition of frontiers and settler colonialism and then the next she’d tossedthe damn textbook at his head and the professor had tossed her out of the classroom.She can’t remember the in-between. Her palms sweat, to think of it. She hasn’tlost her temper that suddenly and that badly since she was sixteen,fucking hell, she can’t do this again, she can’t fall back into that,she can’t—

Jyn wipes her hands offon her jeans, and heaves her bag up higher over her shoulder.

Jackass Fuckface waitingout in the corridor. At least, she’s pretty sure he was waiting for her. He mightbe just waiting for Mothma to finish the meeting, go in and confirm Mothma’sworst nightmares, that he’s going to bring charges against her and the schooland everyone and their mother, but when she opens the door, he lifts his head. There’sa dark purple bruise on his jaw, from the book, and she can’t quite look at it.He’s also just a bit older than she realized. Not by much, just—most universitystudents are in their early twenties, not middling, and most of them don’t havequite so many stress lines around the mouth. Another student, closer to herage, she thinks, obnoxiously tall and very Asian-looking, shuts his laptop, andstares at her with unblinking grey eyes.

“This is the one,” hesays, without inflection. Jackass Fuckface shoves his history book back intohis ragged backpack.

“Leave it, Kei.”

Jyn stares at the floor,and doesn’t say anything. Neither does Jackass Fuckface.

“Well,” says his friend,in trim Queen’s English. “You could at least apologize for being amadwoman.”

“Kei,” says Jackass Fuckface.“I said leave it.”

“Fuck off,” says Jyn atthe same time. “I don’t answer to you, asshole.”

“You should bringcharges, Cassian,” says Kei to Jackass Fuckface. “Clearly there’s no otheroption here. Since she’s insane.”

“Go home, Kei,” says JackassFuckface. He keeps his voice even, but there’s something tight under the accentthat might be a leashed temper. “I told you I could deal with this on my own.”

“With little regard foryour own survival of this encounter, considering she threw a textbook atyour head.” Still, Kei slides his laptop back into his neatly kept messengerbag, latches everything together with the steadiness of an automaton. He drapesit over his shoulder. “I expect a text in ten minutes to confirm that you’restill breathing. If I don’t get one, I will regard you as demised, and sellyour furniture on Craigslist.”

“Thanks,” says JackassFuckface, sourly, and Kei marches away down the hall. By the time JackassFuckface has turned back around, Jyn’s staring at the carpet again, at theshitty pattern and his torn up trainers. It looks like he glues his shoestogether. The repairs are well done, and carefully hidden, but she’s done itenough herself to know the evidence. She’s had to replace the soles on herboots three times.

“Sorry about him,” saysJackass Fuckface, and Jyn can’t help it. She snaps her head up to look at him,because j’excuse? “He says whatever comes into his head. He neverlearned a filter.”

“You’re apologizingto me now?” she says, and Jackass Fuckface—Cassian bites the inside ofhis cheek. He also turns to stare at the wall. The strap of his backpack isworn, too, fraying at the edges. His jeans have holes in the knees.

“You’re right,” he says,clipped. “I won’t.”

Awkward silence for abit. Jyn scuffs her boot over the floor.

“Look,” she says. She triesto count to ten, and fails. Her stomach churns. “I shouldn’t have—shit.”

Cassian watches herthrough too-long bangs. His eyes are brown, she thinks. Brown and sad, somehow,and almost inquisitive. He waits.

“I have anger managementproblems,” she says. Jyn keeps her teeth tight together. “I’m in therapy. Ihaven’t—fucked up like that in years. But it’s been—” She stops. He doesn’tneed to know about Galen winding up in a mental hospital. “Look, it won’thappen again, okay? So don’t—you can charge me if you want, I don’t care, butdon’t fuck it up for Mothma. It’s not the school’s fault, it’s mine. So.”

His eyebrows drawtogether, very slowly. Something crawls up the back of her neck. It feels likebeing X-rayed, being watched like this. She doesn’t like it.

“Okay,” says Cassian,after a beat. “Sure.”

Jyn digs her nails intoher palm. “Seriously?”

“I’m not pressingcharges anyway.” He shuffles his feet, pushes his hair out of his eyes. “But—thankyou for clarifying.”

Jyn opens her mouth, andshuts it again. There’s no point in asking why the fuck he’s being polite toher. She should just take the win, and go. She knows that. But—

“Is your face okay?” shesays, without thinking, and bites her tongue. Cassian blinks once, and thenrubs at the bruise.

“I’ve had a lot worsethan this,” he says. The sadness creeps in around his mouth again. “I’ll heal.”

She looks him overagain, harder this time. He stands like he’s trying to slip into shadow, butthere’s a regimented kind of stiffness to his knees and shoulders that saysmilitary or police. His clothes are cheap and worn, so not working currently,but the patch on his jacket reads Alliance, and it doesn’t look like aknockoff. Just out of the military, then. Quiet and reserved. Officer, maybe. Theaccent says international divisions, not European, which means intelligencework or military deployment. Afghanistan, maybe. Indonesia. Iraq. Jedha. Whoknows. She shifts back and forth on her feet, the bootknife tickling at herankle.

“I’m sorry,” she says.It chips her teeth on the way out. “It was shitty. Like I said.”

Cassian blinks at heragain. The corner of his mouth lifts, just a bit. “I’ll heal. Like I said.”

Fuck it, Jyn thinks, and says, “Do you want—food, orsomething?”

He tips his head at her,and waits. “I don’t date. Even if I did, this isn’t exactly the rightcircumstance.”

“God, fuck, no, I don’t—”Her neck feels hot. “That’s not what I meant. Just—I’m shit at apologies. Food’seasier. Or—or a drink, or something. I’d offer to do your homework, but I’mshit at that, too. Academia’s not for me. I’m just here because—”

She stops, and almostkicks herself. He doesn’t need to know about her mother, either.

“Actually I thought youwere the only person in that class making any sense,” says Cassian, mildly. Jynstraight-out stares at him, this time, goggling, because are you high? “Ifit helps.”

“You were arguing withme.”

“Because you weren’t completelyright,” he says. The skin around his eyes gets all crinkly. “But you werestill making more sense than the professor.”

Jyn looks down her noseat him, and says, “You’re completely fucking mad, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” saysCassian. He shifts his bag on his shoulder, and hesitates. “And I wouldn’t sayno to lunch, if you’re offering.”

She ducks her head to hide behind her hair. “Right,” says Jyn. “Thisway, then.”

[mockingjayne12]

Ginny usually hated when people gave her nicknames, but for some reason, Mike got away with it.

The first time it had slipped out in casual conversation was over the phone.  They’d been talking late into the night, like they normally did, until one or both of them passed out.  He must have noticed she was responding less and less, her heavy eyelids threatening to end the conversation.  But as she fought to stay conscious, just resting her eyes, he tried to wrap it up, telling her goodnight, with the nickname attached.

Her eyes had flown open at that, her mouth unable to respond, but now fully awake and wondering what had brought the endearment on.  She’d let it ruminate in her mind for a while until sleep overtook her, and the memory faded.

It was several weeks later when she’d heard it again.  He’d been trying to convince her to come out with him, but her tired muscles were begging for a night in.  Take out and Netflix calling her name.  She vividly remembers him stepping into her space, the muggy air becoming just a bit hotter as his thick frame stood in front of her, encroaching on surpassing the level of professionalism they’d demanded from each other since she came back from her injury.

The night of their almost kiss came rushing to her mind, the way they’d stood too close, the hug that was probably too tight, the lingering of their mouths a breath away from each other that was definitely too strong of a pull to tear them apart, the ringing of a phone the only tangible thing able to have them flying back to their respective spots.

Her back hit the cool concrete shaking her from her reverie, and she saw the quirk of his lip at the sigh that had escaped from her.

She’d ducked her head, refusing to let his eyes steal her away, convince her that anything other than her curled up in bed with Michael Scofield and a pizza was more appealing.

But then he’d pulled out all the guns, including the nickname that was apparently not a mistake on the phone that night, as he used it in full daylight, conscious mind present.

Upon hearing it, she was tempted to punch him in the arm, tell him to stop.  But instead she spreads that dotted smile he apparently loves so much with a shake of her head, and she knows that she’ll ditch the comfort of her bed for whatever he has planned.

Her allowance, never correcting him, has him saying it more and more, replacing Rookie and Baker almost exclusively with it.  Ginny and Gin still reign supreme, but this new name seems to make its appearance in front of others now.

Blip’s eyes go wide the first time he hears it, and she doesn’t miss the narrowing glare he shoots at Mike like a warning.  It’s only when the others try to mimic Mike, thinking they can get away with it too, that she confronts him.

“Stop!” She demands the next him he uses it, asking her what she wants for dinner.

“Okay, we won’t have Mexican,” he holds up his hands in surrender.

“No, the nickname.  Stop,” she explains, wringing her hands together, not really wanting him to end it, but the evidence of how far past the line of impropriety they were was becoming more and more obvious, and this seemed the most direct way to settle it.

He grips the steering wheel tighter, a fallen look gracing his face, covered mostly by the overgrown beard, but having spent so much time with him, the imperceptible changes weren’t easily hidden from her.

“Got it,” he says with a shrug.  “It won’t happen again,” he assures her.

Silence hangs between them in the car as he drives aimlessly around the city.

“Mexican is fine,” she acquiesces, refusing to allow the awkwardness envelop them fully.

The next couples weeks are uncharacteristically overcast inland, the sun hidden by clouds, mirroring the image of Ginny, whose smile seems to allude her, as Mike reverts back to avoiding her as best he can.  Baker is used exclusively to address her, nothing more than a teammate.  Giving her ample time to finish binge watching her show, and the pile of takeout fighting for space in her fridge.

When the frustration teeters on boiling over inside her, she finds herself standing outside the glass house, her sullen face reflected back to her.

“What are you doing here, Baker?” He gruffly greets her, but she refuses to let it deter her, pushing past him into the kitchen.

“I umm, I came…to…uhh, apologize,” she says, her fingers coming to the corners of her mouth.

He throws out his hand, waving her off. 

“It’s fine, I get it,” he says with a shrug, coming to sit on the stool across from her, Ginny having commandeered the kitchen space as her own.

“No, it’s not…I like it,” she admits with a shy smile, and a small twitch of her nose.

He places his chin in his hand, staring at her like she’d grown three heads, a silly grin plastered on his face.

“I just…maybe not…in front of the guys, you know,” she says with a shrug.

“I think I can mange that.  I’ll write it on a post-it or something, you know my mind’s not what it used to be,” he teases with a wink, his trademarked Old Man nickname having ceased along with her own.

“We could just tattoo it on you, then you won’t have to worry about losing the post-it.  We know how you get,” she jokes.

He lets out a laugh, causing her smile to appear through the clouds.

“I see someone finally had some free time to finish her show,” he grins with a teasing lilt.

She nods.

“We good?” She asks, and he stands at that, coming over to stand before her, his hands lingering in the air, unsure of where to place them.

“We’re good.”

She fights back a smile, her eyes meeting his own.

“So umm, can I ask…why?  Why that nickname?” She says a flash of curiosity dotting her brown eyes.

It’s then that his hands hesitantly find purchase on the sides of her face, and she knows he can hear the intake of her breath as his fingers settle on her cheeks, a nervous smile coming to her.

His thumbs find their way to the hollowed spots on her cheeks.

“Here,” he punctuates with a tip of his fingers into the indents.

This only causes Ginny’s dimples to further hollow, a full blown smile overtaking her face.

“See, sunshine,” he confirms.

She shakes her head at him.

“You’re so full of it.”

“Yeah, well, it also acts as irony when you’re a pain in the ass,” he teases.

“I’m only a pain in the ass when you’re a cranky old man,” she throws back at him.

“Nice try, Sunshine.”

And they both smile at that.

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask box and I will write the next five sentences.