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jodilin65 · 33 years

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THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1991 I’m so bored and impatient and excited! I want to hurry up and check out that apartment. I hope Peter (the owner), who said his cousin’s undecided, gives the place to me as I know I want it for damn sure. I don’t know if I remembered to write about that before, but I guess his cousin, who’s getting divorced, saw the place and may be interested. I hope not. Yesterday, Kim spoke to Peter who said his cousin was still undecided and needed another day or two. That may be a good sign, though; him being undecided. Hopefully, he’ll go back to his wife and kids or maybe move out of state. Kim, however, seems to think he’s more on our side and would never have bothered to discuss it with us in the first place or have us come see it if I didn’t stand a chance. Let’s hope his cousin’s made up his mind for the better today!

Also, I hope the guy who’s in there now moves out before April 1st. The sooner the better.

All I’ll have to take care of, besides physically moving there will be SS, The bank, fuel assistance, and whatever happens with the police exam I passed. I also need to follow up with my doctor’s appointments as I should have done a long time ago. I’ll need a new asthma doctor and I need to see a GYN for this fucking yeast infection I always seem to have. I also need a dental checkup. I need to call fuel assistance anyway to find out what the hell’s going on with my checks. I really need them and I’m sick of waiting.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1991 God, that apartment has so many features, that upon reading back a few pages, I realized I forgot one - ceiling fans.

I’ll write more about the apartment later but first, I passed the police officer exam!!! And can you believe I passed with 81%?! I wasn’t too sure about that test for a while and you know how I suck at math. Tammy even said not to be upset if I failed cuz they’re tough tests to pass.

Everyone’s now asking what’s next and I guess what’s next is I just wait. Wait and see what they say and if I move what they say.

So, that night at Kim and Mark’s place, Kim played the piano and I sang and played the piano, too. Kim is an awesome piano player. I would listen to her play songs without looking, then I showed her how I play by ear. She would play songs while I’d sing along. It was a lot of fun, then after a great home-cooked dinner, we went to the Hampshire Mall. At first, I told myself, you can look, but you can’t buy. Then I said to myself, wait a minute. I’m not buying a new stereo yet. I just got into a band that looks promising. I haven’t bought anything but Gloria’s new CD since last August. Fuck this, I’m going shopping!

So I did, and with perfect timing too, as I got a fantastic deal on this beautiful party dress. Or evening dress, as you’d call it. It’s perfect for performing. It was regularly $54 down to $10 and it’s a little big. It’s a 7/9 though I’m a 3/5 but for $10, I’ll make it fit. I’ve got to hem the sleeves and take it in, in the bust area since I’m so small, but it fits fine at the waist. I also bought a red skirt with a wide black belt. It’s the ruffled kind of skirt I like. Also, two pretty journals at a pretty nice price.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1991 Due to my being up 21½ hours the last time I wrote, I never got to write more of my good news. Yes, believe it or not, I’ve got two fantastic things to write about. If all goes well with both of them, this will be my year for record-breaking luck and happiness and things going my way for once. I deserve it and I have a good feeling as far as both of these things go. Once again, I know I can count on my feelings.

I even called Anna B about my good news and she was happy for me and said she would like to get together with me. I told Jim and Jai about it, too. Steve said, “What did I always tell you about you wanting to be a singer? I told you it would all work out.”

He also told me it was so nice to see me happy. It’s great to finally feel this way. My horoscope was hinting at this the day before Susie told me I was in the band and now it’s hinting about the so-called relationship coming up soon in March. I guess it’s in mid-March. That’s what that psychic astrologer said over the phone. I think maybe Steve can foresee things too, as he said he feels I’ll hit the peak of fame by 1996, and then after that, I’ll meet the “right” woman. I never told Steve that year was the year I felt this would be the year, as well as the psychic astrologer. Also, he always said he felt I’d move before him and I may very well be moving. I’m 80% sure of it and that’s my other good news but I have something to say first as far as my predictions. I’m always either right or very, very close. I always had a feeling I’d get in a band by accident when I least expected it and always felt it may happen at home. I always felt that cuz I’m a homebody 95% of the time, fate would lead it to me at my door and then I’d take it from there. I was right all along on that one, too.

Later…

I took a quick break to talk to Brenda, a bite to eat and a cigarette, but I forgot to mention speaking to Mary D. I called there and said, “What’s up, butch?”

She goes, “Who’s this?”

And I said, “Just cuz it’s been a long time, do you think I’ve forgotten about what happened?” So, I expected her to start screaming at me and cussing me out and threatening me but she was friendly. I know it was sincere too, and not a trap.

She said it was done and over with and she just wanted to be friendly and I said if she wanted to fight, I’d fight her, but if she wanted to be friends, fine. I’ve got to call her back on Tuesday night and I’m simply going to tell her what I wasn’t able to tell her years ago. I’m just not into dykes as lovers. Being friends is one thing, but if they’re gonna be in my bed, they must be feminine.

The night I made prank calls to her while Margaret, her sister, was in the hospital in labor was wrong, and I can see if she came over to yell at me to knock it off, but you don’t try to beat someone up and trash their apartment over shit like that. Therefore, of course, I’m gonna fuck her over. Mary knows I did not hurt her, I simply restrained her but if she’d come back a second time I would have destroyed her. I’d have kicked her ass to Japan.

Ok, now I’m going to get on with my other good news. As I mentioned before, I feel as if I’ve known Kim for years. And her husband, too. I’ve only known her a few months, but if I gave her my keys to take care of Shadow if I was to go away, I know I could trust her.

She knows how desperately I want to move and why I decided not to go to Arizona or Connecticut, and now I have the band, too. So, one day she told me to come see her place which is one out of only two apartments on the top floor of a 3-story office building. She told me the guy could easily ask for $1,000 if he wanted to but cuz of who they are in town, they could have it for $525. Jesus, you’ve got to see this place before you can believe it! And I thought my place was huge and beautiful. My place is a joke. It’s 1200 square feet with a washer and a dryer, Jacuzzi, dishwasher, trash compactor, central AC, burglar alarm, sprinklers, and a microwave that’s better than mine. Everything is so glamorously modern. I don’t mean just plainly modern, it’s beautifully modern. It has skylights, too. Everything’s electric and I assumed the heating bill would be $50 - $100 a month, especially with cathedral ceilings, but she showed me both her electric bill and heating bill and they were both around $23. I know I’d be saving on the monthly charge on the phone bill as they do not offer 3-way or call-waiting and call-forwarding out there in Deerfield.

I called Tammy and told her about it and she seemed interested. I told her everything I just wrote and that Deerfield’s 40 minutes away. It’s like Longmeadow where everyone knows your name, but it doesn’t seem to have that stuck-up attitude like most ritzy towns do.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1991 I have got the news of my life!!! The news I’ve been waiting for for 25 years! I got in that band with Susie!!! Yes, I really, really did! I feel as if I’m dreaming such a fantastic dream that I can’t wake up from, but this is all real. It’s really happening. The band’s name is ERA and there are 5 people in the band besides me and Susie as the singers. She’s going to be taking me to a recording studio to meet the other band members. When she’s gonna do this, I don’t know. She’s going to call me. They perform 2-3 nights a week starting March 9th and she said I could expect to earn $600 a month on average. That’s $1,221 a month, counting my SS and Bill!

I called everyone about it including Tammy, Mom, Andy, Brenda, Steve, Philip and Martha. Next, I’ve got to tell Jai and Jimmy.

Believe it or not, I’m not done with the good news, so let me now mention that I saw Kim’s apartment. Man, is it huge!

I spent the day with her and her husband Mark who’s a cop in the town of Greenfield. They live in South Deerfield. I felt an unusual, yet immediate comfort with him and felt as if I’d known him for years like with Kim. Many people have told me that they’ve felt as if they’d known me for years, but you know me. I feel as though I can truly say that about someone once in a lifetime. Then again, I also know someone’s character the second I lay eyes on them. Besides psychic vibes, I’ve had a lot of experiences.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1991 I feel shitty, so I’m not going to write much. I couldn’t fall asleep till almost noon yesterday and I had to get up at 6:00 and then an hour later I went grocery shopping. I have felt very groggy all day. Or night, I should say.

Kim called about a vacancy next door to her. She’s going to talk to the owner, but it’ll no doubt be too expensive.

I’m dead tired so I’m going to bed now.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1991 Not a whole heck of a lot happened since I woke up last night at 7:00. I spoke to Brenda briefly, watched a movie while taping another, and talked with Steve.

I am totally wiped out of food. I may go shopping this morning. Brenda’s going to take me, I guess.

Bonny says she’s moving on March 1st and Brenda says she’s moving on April 1st. I feel like I’m losing everybody. Andy’s moving, Brenda’s moving, Jimmy’s moving. Before I know it, Steve will be moving and I’ll be left behind with no one. I’ll be damned, though, if I’m going to move into a project. I don’t care if the neighborhood it’s in is better or not.

About singing, yeah well ha, ha. That Susan girl will no doubt, not come through. I don’t think I can count on anything coming up with her. But will I ever be able to count on anything pertaining to music? Sometimes I wonder. I wonder how I can keep surviving. When I’m gonna break down and lose my mind. I have absolutely nothing to look forward to or to live for. If there is truly a God, I can’t even compromise and sacrifice with him. I prayed for him to take away the right woman and a baby if he must, but to please let me have my music. Why was I dumb enough to keep hoping and believing in the first place? I keep telling myself there’s no way and why, but the vision won’t go away. Why? Why, oh why, oh why? What’s left for me now?

I wish Nervous would call me. I really miss him despite his mouth and his attitude. I have not seen Nervous for many, many months. I called him where he works at the Bucket of Suds Laundromat. He still works at Feinstein’s Leather, too. For the last couple of months I’ve called him, be it by myself or with Fran or Andy, he’s hung up instantly on us but this time he spoke to me. I simply told him I was sincere about wanting him to visit me and that any shit I’ve pulled in the past had been cuz of his mouth and his attitude. I never hated Nervous. Just some of his ways. To tell you the truth, I miss that sucker. I think back in my mind to the days when he was in the worst of his obsession with me on Oswego St. and it really was funny. I really had a lot of fun playing with his head and everyone knows he enjoyed it, too. Anyone not enjoying it wouldn’t have stuck around as long as he did.

What made him flee, though, was definitely Andy. He got tired of competing with him and he knew he could never mean to me what Andy does. And you know Andy and I have had our share of problems, too. Another thing is how I finally let him start meeting my girlfriends if you know what I mean. I miss playing “dead phone line” with him and also the crossed call-waiting game. I wish I could make things like they used to be with him for a while and then get rid of him once I started getting really sick of him again. True, there’s only so much I can take of the guy before I want to kill him.

I want to get some more really heated-up fights over the phone with him and Fran so I can tape them. I need more edits of him. The old ones are classics and I’ll always love them and find them funny as all hell, but it’s time for new ones. Nervous never liked his edits. He just never had that kind of a sense of humor even if they were never played for his boss, among other people. But then again maybe he would. It’s not as if he has no sense of humor. Of course, Nervous is not the type to make prank phone calls, other than the calls he made to me. He never said anything, though. It was simply a case of wanting to hear the girl’s voice that he was so obsessed with. See if I’m home, who I’m with, what I might say. But to call people with funny last names, people you hate or just dial random numbers, no way. It just wasn’t in him.

I can say I’m really quite proud of myself to stick with something besides music or music-related projects for so long. I have been keeping journals since 10/27/1987. I was 21 years old. In fact, I think I’m going to go read back to kill time.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1991 Well, sure enough, but not surprisingly enough, I woke up with a bad attack yesterday. It wasn’t the worst attack, but it wasn’t very fun either. I had too many cigarettes. I didn’t get up till 7:00 cuz I kept waking up a billion times. I fell asleep near 10:00 yesterday morning and if I had been able to sleep straight through I’d have woken up at 5:00. It’s going to be a heck of a while before I fall asleep and I’ve got Bill coming around 6:30 tonight.

I need to psych myself up to quit smoking again. I hate this feeling of having pressure on me and feeling like I can’t take control. These cigarettes have such power over me and I don’t like it. But then again look at all the other powers and controls I’ve had over other things. I don’t mean just psychic powers either. Speaking of psychic powers, it just gets weirder all the time. It’s developing more and more that it’s almost too hard to believe and accept. My nana Bella always told me that if you have a gift, don’t question it, just accept it and use it. I guess she’s right and I have to consider my “bad vibes” as a gift when I remember the fire.

If I ever do run into Mark B, who set that fire, I don’t think he’d want to look in the mirror for quite a while.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1991 I am now in the ER waiting for Brenda to get her nose checked. It feels good to be here, not needing to be here as a patient for once. I guess Brenda and Bonny were babysitting for Paul and Kathy’s kids and Brenda went to the store and got punched out. Brenda called me from Kathy’s asking me if I would go to the ER with her. Naturally, I said yes since she’s taken me here before, but as I was waiting, Andy came over. Andy and I both figured at first that she went to buy drugs and got robbed or that they just beat her up. According to Brenda, though, she went out to get cigarettes for her and Bonny when a guy came up to her and she rolled down her window. I asked her why she’d roll her window down and she said for all she knew, he could’ve been asking for directions. The guy, however, was insisting that she buy drugs and she refused and his girlfriend punched her in the nose. She also spit all over her window, which I saw and as Brenda was trying to back out her car kept stalling and the girl threw a bottle at her windshield. The windshield wasn’t broken, but you could see that something had spilled out all over it. She insists she wouldn’t lie about that or Gail to me or Bonny and she has mentioned it when she’s done it. Drugs, I mean. Also, I was over earlier and Gail was begging her to get high with her and she kept refusing. Why she associates with people like Gail, I’ll never know. Brenda says, “She’s got problems, you can’t push her away for that.” I said she most certainly could if this girl is only out to hurt her and be a bad influence on her. Gail’s gonna keep on influencing Brenda to get high with Brenda till Brenda dies. Bonny said that and Bonny’s right about that one. When she was on the phone with Gail, I kept yelling in the background for her to go get high with someone else or do it herself. If Brenda’s not gonna be firm enough, then her friends will be. It’s too bad Brenda’s wimpy and has this problem cuz she’s such a good person. Too good a person to have to be going through this kind of shit. She deserves better and she deserves to be better.

Later…

Earlier I was all set to go to bed but now I’m wide awake. I’ve had plenty of cigarettes and I pray I don’t wake up sick.

Earlier I was listening to music when a strange feeling came over me. It was weird as I was remembering the fire we had here a little over a year ago. Then that funny feeling came as I was taking off my headphones I could hear yelling and sirens. At first, I thought it was a drug bust till I looked out my window and saw tons of fire trucks. I also saw tons of smoke coming out of a 4th-floor window. The firemen were on a huge ladder with their hoses. Not surprisingly enough, it’s one of the major crack buildings on Locust St. near the Red Lion Cafe. I just hope no kids or innocent victims were hurt. I don’t think anyone was hurt, though. Also, I don’t think there are any “innocent” people in that building so hopefully, they’ve been evacuated. That’ll make one less crack house on the street.

I’m going to try and get some sleep now. I want to be up by 5:00 or 6:00. That way I’ll have time to wake up, eat and take a shower.

Andy may come over but I told him to call first, and he better cuz at 9:00 I’ll be watching a movie while taping another. Since I can’t tape them both at once, I’ll need to watch one.

Oh, one more thing, Kevin got a subpoena today to appear in court on charges of annoying phone calls. That’s the name this phone is now in. That was Andy’s idea to choose a name from one of the characters of Twin Peaks.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1991 Brenda is a major crackhead. About 3 or 4 months ago, Bonny and Dave got her hooked on crack by tricking her into it. They, I guess, put it in a bowl without telling her what it was. I assume Brenda figured it was pot. Now Bonny blames Dave for this, but I believe Brenda when she says Bonny knew exactly what Dave was doing. I know Bonny’s type and she’s already proven herself a pathological liar to me, Andy, and other people. Let me also say that ever since I confronted Bonny with her lies and offered her a “try” at beating my ass she’s been a major sweetheart to me. I told her if she wanted to be nice, I’ll be nice and if she wanted to fight, we could do it at her place, my place, the hall, outside or wherever. So, anyway, as I was saying, Brenda smokes pot occasionally and used to smoke coke here and there, but quit two years ago. I know Brenda’s no liar and she knows she has a problem and wants to do something about it, but goddamn it, is that all I ever can get?!?!?! Don’t I deserve better for once? All I can get is dope heads, loud obnoxious mental cases or shy, geeky, wimpy type mental cases. Damn, can’t I get anyone both emotionally and financially stable for once? And when oh when am I gonna get someone I’m really attracted to? I’m 25 years old goddamn it. I want to feel that true sexual spark and overwhelming feeling for once. I’m bored with the so-so-looking ones. I also feel I deserve my ideal type of person with the qualities in them I want. Of course, I’m not asking for Miss Perfect, but can’t I come close for once?

Other than Brenda’s problems which are 10 times worse than mine, she is a good person who’s far from ugly and I know she still has true feelings for me but I’m not stupid either. She always comes over saying, “I miss you and I love you,” when she’s horny. She hardly comes over just to visit and we never do nonsexual things together and we never really talk. She’s too quiet although she has been talking more. She told me she noticed I’m talking less and I’ve changed a lot and I don’t push her away as much, then what did she do earlier? Well, yesterday I mentioned I got my hair trimmed and I went over and said she did a good job and Brenda goes, “Yeah, but I’m not in the mood to talk about your hair.” I told her she’s been talking to me non-stop about the fights she and Bonny have been having for the last month or so and I haven’t pushed her away. Or jumped down her throat and hacked her head off. So, I got up and left and she called me apologizing saying she felt shitty from withdrawal.

I have fully accepted the fact that I’ll never get first best, but damn am I sick of second best! That’s why I’ve been spending so much time alone too, and there’s always way more bad than good when I get involved with someone, and there shouldn’t be. That’s how I know I’m with the wrong person. They say when you meet the right person, you’ll know it, and I believe that. I’ve met them, they’ve just been taken or not interested in me. Again, I either do it right or I don’t do it at all. Better to take care of yourself, than to be taken care of by the wrong person.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1991 The last week has taken a weird turn but a nice one, I hope. First of all, I’m definitely not going to Phoenix cuz I just can’t see myself selling every single thing I own except for the clothes on my back. A move should be happy, exciting and adventurous in every way. It should be much more secure. Especially as big of a move as that. Not sad, stressful and miserable, too. You know me, I either take my time and do it right or I don’t do it at all.

Russ and I went to see that mediator who was a very obvious butch. Ugly as all hell, but very nice. Very on my side, too. I simply told Russ that if he drops the eviction, I won’t press charges in small claims court. He did. After getting home from that meeting, I made a stop by the apartment Eddie and Jo L used to live in. Before I begin explaining why I stopped there, let me back up a bit. About a month or so ago I met this girl Susan in the laundry room. As we were talking I learned she’s a singer who has sung quite a bit in Springfield and also New York. I told her I sang and that was my goal and she asked me to stop by but I was on my negative “I give up” streak due to all the shit I’ve been through.

It’s going to be so hard losing Andy despite the differences we’ve had in the past. We love each other to death and always will even though I’ve had many a desire to mutilate him here and there. I hope, however, he goes to Phoenix, discovers it’s all he’s wanted it to be and I can save money and join him someday.

So, as far as Sue goes, I finally said, what the fuck? If I don’t gain I have nothing to lose. I stopped by, left my number with her roommate Jen and she called me when she got in and came up. We harmonized together and it sounded great. She had a cold and I felt I sang a little better but she’s still good and probably much better with no cold. She sings pretty much all over, but usually not in the winter. She has a band and all that and performs 3 times a month. 3 weekends a month, I mean. I asked her how much she usually made a month and she said $1600. I don’t think she meant the whole band, either. That was just her money. She said she did an anniversary and made $200 and that was just in 3 hours. Hey, I don’t care if it’s the shittiest pay as long as it’s singing and not doing nothing or doing something I hate.

Kathy, Bonny’s sister-in-law, trimmed my hair today. She did a great job. She also did a great job on Bonny’s hair and on her daughter’s hair. Kathy trimmed my bangs and trimmed half an inch, straight across the bottom. God, have I got split ends, though! Oh, I’d say 8 out of every 10 hairs are split. That doesn’t necessarily mean only once either. I have some that are split up to 6 or 7 times.

By the 23rd of this month, it’ll be 120 days since the police exam I took so I guess I’ll be notified soon. I always knew I’d make a good cop but I also figured that at the same time, it wasn’t meant to be. Not now, for sure as there’s going to be a default warrant out for me cuz of Jenny’s shit on March 6th. Like I said before, Jenny got all she deserved and I’m not giving her the satisfaction of coming to court. Andy says the cops I know will take care of the warrant. I thought about that, but I can’t count on that.

Most of all, I very well may have flunked that test. You know my math sucks.

I spoke to Jai and Jenny. Jenny’s now living with Jai on Mattoon St. I hope they like it still, but I know Jai hates the landlord.

I left a message for Debbie at PCS to call me. I spoke to her a few days ago and I told her my “feelings” said she was gay, and she is. She’s now on break.

Later…

Andy came over stoned out of his mind but in a good mood. Tomorrow’s Andy’s b-day. He’s gonna be 29. I gave him a card and a bag of hard candy. He’s leaving next month and he’s still saying how much he wants me to come with him. Of course, I wish I could go too, but I just can’t sell everything. Also, even though Jimmy offered to store my stuff in the new house he’s buying, he’s still not sure he’s getting the house and when. He may not get it for several more months.

I thought of calling Philip about storing my stuff but never bothered figuring he’d say no.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1991 Well, I was right about the snow date I predicted right after the big snowstorm last December 28th. The vibe was really weak, though, probably cuz it only snowed 10 minutes yesterday, February 11th.

Andy’s going to Phoenix at the beginning of next month and I doubt I’ll be going, too. My sister and my parents refuse to help me. You know how Ma is. It’s either her way or no way.

Jimmy’s buying a house and he’s offered to store my stuff there, which is nice, but then how am I going to get it cross-country? It’ll take me quite a while to save the money to ship it across. I’d rent a furnished apartment but Andy wouldn’t get an apartment till he gets a job. He doesn’t have guaranteed money like I do from disability (he’s taking the money his folks gave him and he’s going to stay with friends he knows that used to live here, till he gets on his feet). The other alternative would be to sell all my stuff and I really don’t want to do that. The last alternative is to wait and save the money to move out by shipping my stuff and by me flying out but that would cost a pretty penny. I’d have to work part-time for several months like Tammy said. If I do get out there, I’ll work part-time hopefully in a restaurant with Andy. Perhaps I could call Philip, but I seriously doubt he’d help me. I want to go to Phoenix not only for my music, but I need a change. It’s cheaper to live there and it’s warmer but there’s no humidity. Also, it’s great for asthma and allergies and all the apartments have pools and air conditioning.

Tomorrow I am going to see a mediator with Russ about our so-called heating problem that he’s dying to resolve. I told him I know he’s sincere, and he is, but I’m going to tell it like it is. I have to meet him there at 4:00. Brenda’s taking me.

I feel bad for Brenda cuz I know she’ll miss me if I move and that she still loves me. I’ll miss her too, of course, and I love her still, but not like she does. She’s a very honest and sincere person, but I’m not overwhelmed by her looks and she’s not quite my type as great as she is. But of course you know there was something there or I’d never have slept with her in the first place. I’d have only been her friend. She’s far from ugly or a bad person, but that’s the way it always is. They’re either way more into me, or I’m way more into them.

Bonny has been a major sweetheart for a long time now. Ever since I confronted her about her lies and offered for her to “try” and kick my ass.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1991 As usual, I have another horrible cold where I just can’t stop fucking sneezing or blowing my nose.

I really want to perform tonight, believe it or not, but I still don’t feel too good. I woke up at 11:00 this morning with a bad attack that lasted till 5:00 this afternoon. I put my humidifier on, took some Sudafed and drank two cups of tea.

Andy will be over later so I can record his Dark Shadows show, and so we can call Tammy. I’ll write more about what we’re gonna talk to Tammy about later. Right now I have to go pee and make some more tea.

What I had was bad withdrawal too, since I had not smoked for 18 hours.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1991 I feel like my whole life’s come to an end. In a month Andy’s moving to Phoenix and the only place my mother will move me to is Connecticut. Here I watch my best friend go and follow his dream, while mine gets further and further away. Maybe what I swore was meant to be for 25 years is only a dream I’ll dream and never do. But if it isn’t really meant to be then why is the vision still so damn clear? It gets clearer and clearer all the time. My voice gets better and better but it’s like a tease if I can never use it the way I want to. I never said I wouldn’t work for the music but if I’m never going to be in the right place, then what’s the point?

My mother’s so hung up on controlling me and having me where she wants me to be and doing what she wants me to do. Hey, it’s better than Valleyhead, right? And if anyone’s used to having to settle for second best, it’s me. Some people get everything they want. Some people get some of the things they want. Some people get none of the things they want.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1991 I called and talked one on one with a psychic and you know I believe in them after the “strange” things I’ve done. I’ll write more about what I’ve done another time. Meanwhile, this woman told me everything I’ve always felt. Here goes:

You will try to quit smoking again and fail and you may feel bummed out, but don’t cuz in 6 months you won’t be smoking anymore.

If you ever have a baby, you won’t be a young mother, you may be between 33-35.

Fame will come in 7 years, and when I’m just starting to make it in 1994 or so, I’ll meet Linda. Maybe not Gloria for a while as she’s skittish about meeting new people.

I may live in L.A. for a while, then maybe have a huge home in Santa Barbara.

Be prepared for a potential break-in, in March of 1993. I won’t be living here at the time.

This March I’ll meet a woman with very long dark hair 5’ 2”-5’ 4” and see her on and off for 6 months. The problem will be me as I’ll be unsure, as usual, or thinking, “This woman is too good to be true.”

I’ll meet another woman at the end of this year or very beginning of next who has light to medium brown hair just below her shoulders. She’ll be 5’ 6” and we’ll have more in common, although she won’t be as well off financially.

To me, it sounds like another Kacey followed by another Brenda.

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 2 years

Text

Joke’s On You Part 5

When Fred Weasley carelessly bumps into you into the hallway, you decide to take him a notch down; not by berating him, but by showing him up at his own game of using your charm and intellect to get what you want. And it’s fine if the end result doesn’t leave everyone quite satisfied - in fact, that’s what you want…

[Fred Weasley x Reader.] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Non-Consent.] [Warning: Manipulation.] [Warning: Humiliation.] [Warning: Slight Bondage.] [Warning: Overstimulation.]

⍟ Click Here for Joke’s On You Home Page (All Chapter Links) ⍟

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You gracefully sank to your knees before him. You slowly reached out and touched one fingertip against the huge bulge threatening to split open the front of his pants. Gazing up at him with kitten-like eyes, you asked sweetly, “Can’t I, Freddie?”

“Sweetheart,” Fred breathed out, “you can do whatever the hell you want to me.”

A mischievous smile slipped out for a moment. But you reeled it back in and simply said, “Thank you.”

You gently pressed the tip of your pinky finger against his bulge. Meanwhile, your eyes roamed over Fred’s thighs and hips. Mmm… You licked your lips. I could spend all day kissing his thighs and hips… Your gaze trailed upwards, until you were blinking sweetly up at Fred. Your fingers were, ever so slowly, inching up his bulge. When your fingertips slipped onto the top button of his pants, you cocked your head to the side, so that your hair went tumbling down one side of your head, cascading down your left shoulder.

Fred paused. Look at her, being all soft, he thought. When she’s so uptight and condescending to the rest of the world… It honestly startled him how incredibly different you were when you were with him, compared to what you were like to the rest of the world.

You smiled up at Fred, knowing what he was thinking. He thinks I’ve gone soft for him. Poor boy. You’ve another thought coming.

You very, very slowly unbuttoned the top of his pants. Then, putting both of your hands on the ground, you leaned forward.

When you leaned forward, the back of your skirt lifted a little. Fred was standing directly across from the classroom windows. With your skirt lifted like that, Fred had a perfect view of your ass, and he saw the way the light pink crystal heart glistened between your ass cheeks as you shifted back and forth, anticipating how you would move once you had Fred’s cock in your mouth.

Fred swallowed. “I – uh – I wouldn’t have guessed someone like you even owned something like that.”

“Hm? Like what?”

“The heart thing…”

“Oh, my plug?” You leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his bulge and giving Fred a better view of your ass and your cute heart butt plug. “Do you like it?”

“Well, like I said, it’s – uh – unexpected.”

“Mmm,” you murmured softly, “what if I told you that I’ve never owned one before, but I wanted to look cute in front of you? What if I said I bought it for you?”

You felt Fred’s cock throb as he muttered quickly, “Fuck – Well, don’t say that. Don’t lie.”

“Okay, I won’t…” Using your teeth, you pulled the zipper down. Once you let go of the zipper, though, you whispered, “Only, it’s not a lie.”

Fred groaned. How the fuck could you be so enticing? It was so wonderful to see you like this, on your knees for him, even pulling his zipper down with your teeth, all while you had the cutest little butt plug nestled inside of your ass, but it was also maddening because – “C’mon, baby,” Fred murmured, “take me already. You’re taking forever.”

You smirked. “Always so impatient, aren’t you? Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

“Uh, isn’t it pretty obvious at this point?” Fred replied, confused.

“Oh. Well, yes, I suppose it is,” you agreed pleasantly. You teasingly ran your fingers on Fred’s skin, just above his pants line.

“Wait.” Fred frowned. “You’re not going to be mean about this, too, are you?”

You laughed lightly. Gripping the waistline of his pants, you slowly dragged it down to Fred’s knees. As you did, you smiled up at Fred, with your eyes turning into pleased half-crescents, as you said, in a rather kitten-like purr, “Never.”

You reached for the waist band of his briefs. Fred watched you eagerly. However, once you’d hooked your fingers around Fred’s briefs waist band, you paused. Frowning, you asked Fred, “Am I not doing it right? I meant for it to make you feel good.”

But before Fred could answer, you let go of the waist band. With a small snap, it snapped back against Fred’s toned hips.

Fred gasped a little, and you grinned.

“Tell me, Freddie, do you want someone else?”

“No, no, no,” Fred moaned quickly. “I want you.”

“Oh, good,” you said, smiling as you reached for his briefs again. “Because otherwise, I was going to have to suggest that we end this right now. And you could go find some other girl to fuck, one who doesn’t even know how to handle her man, so she’ll just stick her cock in her mouth and slobber all over your cock while pretending to sit there all daintily.” You paused again. “Is that what you really want?”

Fred groaned. “Come on,” he urged. “Please.”

You lifted your eyebrow at him. “Sounds like that is what you want.” You took your hands away and stood up.

Fred’s hand shot out and he grabbed your wrist in his grasp. You started a little – his hand was feverishly hot.

Fred gripped your wrist tightly as he growled at you, “Don’t you dare do this to me when it’s you who got me in this state.”

You hesitated, gazing at his mouth. You reached out and lightly traced his lips with your finger. “So, you do want me?”

“How many times do I have to say it?” Fred griped. “Yes, I want you. I fucking want you so much it’s all I can think about these days.”

Your eyes flashed up – and met Fred’s eyes. His eyes are so… earnest. Could it be - Is he telling the truth?

You stepped closer to Fred, and you pressed your lips very lightly against his – not to tease him, but to thank him.

“Okay,” you whispered softly. “Thank you for telling me that. You’re really sweet.”

You dropped back to your knees. Without any pauses this time, you pulled his briefs down, too. Getting up a little higher on your knees, you opened your mouth and – at long last – you sank your mouth down onto Fred’s cock.

Fred went perfectly still for a long moment. Then, his entire body shuddered, with his hips shivering enough that you felt his cock tremble in your mouth. You had to press your lips around him harder. As you did, you sucked on him a little. Fred breathed out harshly, “Fuck.”

You whispered, “You curse a lot, Fred.”

“Do I?” he murmured. His eyes slipped shut as he took in the amazing feeling of your smart-ass little mouth wrapped perfectly around his cock. “Think it’s only when I’m with you, though. Uhn…”

You had about a third of his cock in your mouth, but then – “Mmpfh, Fweddie, you’re so hard alweady…” you said, trying to speak around his cock. It was true. His cock was so thick and swollen. The weight of it in your mouth and on your tongue made it hard to speak.

“I couldn’t help it,” Fred confessed. “Seeing your little pussy all laid bare for me on the desk – it got me so hard. You have no idea how badly I wanted to fuck you, but you were getting upset with me just for making you cum on my mouth. So, I had to hold back. Right? I did the right thing – right? ”

“Yes, you did. Like I said, I have to teach you a little, but once I do, you’re very good to me. My perfect boytoy.” You sucked hard on his cock and slowly dragged your lips back, all the way to the tip of his cock, while sucking the entire time. “Mm…”

“Baby,” Fred moaned hoarsely. I don’t want to be her ‘boytoy,’ but fuck, if this is what it feels like to be her boytoy – why not? Uhn, Godric, her little mouth is so warm and wet…

“Freddie, stay with me. Keep your mind here,” you murmured, for you could see him already starting to drift into haziness.

“Huh?”

“I’m saying – we haven’t even started.”

“We – We haven’t?” Fred said, confused. You already had your lips wrapped around his cock – how much further was there to go?

“Now, we’ll start,” you said decisively. Putting your hands up on Fred’s thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, letting your mouth glide sweetly over the length of Fred’s cock – or however much you could take in your mouth, anyways.

You did this for a few minutes. Then, you properly busied yourself, starting to rock lightly on the floor, back and forth, back and forth, so that you could take more of Fred’s cock in your mouth. You found that you loved the feeling of having your mouth wrapped around Fred Weasley’s cock. Sucking on him the way you were – lightly, yet tightly - you could feel the veins and ridges of his cock sliding in and out of your lips. Besides that, he had a nice taste to him.

“Mmm,” you hummed again, and Fred groaned along with you.

Then - Pop! A soft, bright sound rang out as Fred’s cock, fully erect, sprang out from the sweet little “O” your mouth had made.

Now that his cock was wet, you wrapped both your hands around his cock into little fists, and you began to pump his cock in your grasp. You watched your hands, wrapped together, going up and down his cock. Fred has a very handsome cock, you thought. Nice and long, and definitely thick. No wonder I felt so good last night.

Only a minute had passed, when you couldn’t help but think, Touching him is nice, but I want him in my mouth again. Now. Can’t wait. And sure enough, glomp went your little mouth again, latching onto his cock, and you proceeded to give Fred a blowjob that became increasingly fervent, heated, and even a little messy. “Mm, mm, mm,” you moaned out in tight, little sounds as you sucked, kissed, and tongued his cock.

Fred groaned, and it was a deep sound, mixing pleasure, satisfaction, and insatiable want all together. He’d been with girls like this before, but you were right – while their technique was messy, they had all kept themselves so tidy and neat throughout. In contrast, you pushed yourself, but you seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Not a single movement went to waste. Your every motion brought pleasure to his cock, as you serviced him without holding back.

Fred saw that your lips were just as wet and glistening as his cock was, and your ass cheeks were slightly pink as you had started bouncing lightly against the back of your shins and ankles. Fred was torn between looking down at you, and seeing your thick lashes flutter and your cheeks blush more heavily as you gave your mouth to his pleasure, and looking at you in the darkened mirror, where he could see the shape of you from behind and that cute butt plug of yours sparkling with every movement you made.

As you kept going, using your hands to follow your mouth as you went up and down Fred’s cock, your tidy, normally swept-back hair started to come apart because of how hard you were working yourself to take him. Soft strands of your hair fell forward to grace your blushing face.

Fred reached down and gathered your hair into a ponytail and held it back for you. “Yes,” Fred groaned, coaxing you on, “just like that.”

Your hands slid from the front of his thighs around Fred. You suddenly grasped his ass, and you pushed yourself forward while relaxing your throat. Fred’s cock hit up against the back of your throat – and then even a bit deeper – “Ah!” you gasped as you pulled back. “Hah… Ah…”

Fred stared down at you, wide-eyed. “Fuck,” he whispered. “That was deep. I saw my cock in your throat for a second there.”

“Felt nice, didn’t it?” you panted out.

“Yeah, keep doing that,” Fred encouraged you.

Resting your head for a moment on his pelvis, you looked up at him and warned him, “I love having your cock in my throat – just love it. But I have to warn you, if you let me do that to you, you’re not going to be able to take it.”

Fred rolled his eyes at you. “Just keep doing it.”

“Fine.”

And so you did. You let Fred deep throat you to his heart’s desire. His hands let go of your ponytail and instead, his fingers slid into your now-messy hair. Fred pressed your head down against him, holding you down longer and longer, making you choke on his cock, until – “Nngh!” you cried out, with Fred’s cock completely filling up your mouth and throat.

“Stay down – uhn - j-just a little longer, love,” Fred pleaded. He held you down. You gasped all around his cock, but you kept yourself choking on his thick, long cock, staying as still as you could for him, though, truth be told, you were squirming around on the floor, with your knees and ass shifting all over the place. Finally, your hands slipped onto Fred’s hips and you gripped at him tightly, with your nails sinking into his hips.

“Ah! Just o-one more s-secon – Uhn!” With a loud, heavy grunt, Fred started to cum deep in your throat. You shut your eyes tightly and did your best to relax, to take it for him.

But Fred, worried that he was pushing you too hard and not having asked for your permission to cum in your mouth (much less your throat), tried to pull back. But you moaned out loudly (or as loudly as you could with a thick cock shoved down your throat), “Nwuh!” and you suddenly hugged his thighs tightly with both of your arms.

Fred, not expecting such a reaction from you, stumbled backwards. The back of his thighs hit the desk behind him.

You stubbornly stayed with him. “Cum in my mouth!” you begged him.

“F-Fuck, I can’t – can’t hold back – Baby – ‘M really gonna cum!” Fred gasped out.

“Pwease!” you moaned out.

“Uhn! Fuck!” With a loud, rough cry, Fred came hard in your mouth.

You gasped as you felt his hot, salty cum hit the back of your throat. You instantly swallowed all of it.

Fred, unable to help himself, thrust his hips forward, messily fucking your little mouth and throat in desperate, uncontrolled thrusts, as he finished cumming.

You stayed with him through all of it, latching onto him and hugging him so tightly that you were flat to his legs, meaning you had arched your back so that your breasts and tummy were pressed up against the front of his legs, while your legs were tucked underneath you a bit messily, as Fred accidentally dragged you back and forth against the floor as he fucked your mouth at the end.

Swallow, swallow, swallow – all of Fred’s cum immediately went down your throat.

“AH!” You gasped loudly as you finally fell back. You were dizzy from lack of breath. With slightly watery eyes, you looked up at Fred.

“You – Did you swallow it all?” Fred panted out.

“Yes.” You neatly pushed your hair back, as you confessed, “Your cum tastes so nice. I wanted it all for myself.”

Fred paused, watching you in total disbelief. Then, he held out his arms and said to you, “Come here. Come kiss me. Right now.”

You had barely gotten up from the floor, when Fred, too eager, stepped towards you first and pulled you up. Hugging you tightly, he stole your mouth for himself, kissing you passionately.

“Ah…” you breathed out softly in response to his kiss. Your hands roamed over his chest again, pulling at the knot in his tie, and then your hands slipped back around his neck… and then down to his wrists…

Fred frowned. Mouth still pressed to yours, he wondered, “What’re you up to?”

“Nothing,” you said innocently, as you completed tying the last knot to the makeshift bind you’d wrapped around both of Fred’s wrists. You stepped back.

Fred tried to yank his hands free, but he found that he couldn’t. “What the hell? This is nothing to you, you weirdo?”

You shrugged. “It’s what nice hands like yours deserve. A cute little bow wrapped around them.”

“And who decided that, huh?”

“I did.” You smirked, before you tacked on, “For my boy toy.”

You hesitated, however, playing with Fred’s collar, as you checked with him, “Are you okay with this?”

Fred sighed. “I mean, I s’pse so. I just don’t really get it. This gets you off?”

You smirked. “Well, you’ll ‘get’ it soon. I promise.” You sank down to your knees again.

Fred’s eyes widened, and the displeased scowl dropped off of his face, replaced by an excited, yet uncertain expression. “What are you doing?”

You lifted your eyebrow as you repeated your words back to him, “Isn’t it obvious, at this point?”

And then you put your mouth right back onto his cock.

“Wait!” Fred said, flustered. “I – I’m not hard yet.”

You giggled. “I know. Don’t worry. That’s my job.”

It took a few minutes for you to get Fred hard again, especially given how hard he’d just cummed for you, but you got there - and then some.

The second time Fred cummed for you, you felt his cock throb gorgeously as he emptied again in your mouth.

“Mmm!” you moaned happily, as you swallowed it all again.

You gave him just a minute to relax, and you spent that minute keeping yourself pressed close to him still, sitting at his feet, while you pressed feverish, soft kisses all over his thighs, hips, and abs.

Then, you laid your head down on his thigh and looking up at Fred, you whispered, “Can I do it again, Freddie? Please?”

“A-Again?” Fred huffed out.

“Yeah.”

Fred was torn. He knew that he was increasingly falling under your spell and yet – he couldn’t imagine saying no to you. He finally nodded.

“Look how pink the tip is,” you said, laughing a little, palming his soft cock in your hand for a few minutes.

“Stop making f-fun of me,” Fred panted out.

You lifted your eyebrow at him. “Oh? Are you still in a rush?”

Oh God, he’s so cute. I want him again. You opened your mouth for him yet again.

“No –!”

It was too late. Fred’s cock had disappeared into your mouth once more.

“Ah! S-Shit!” Fred hissed. His cock was so sensitive now it was almost painful, but also, the pleasure felt more heightened than ever. And seeing you like this, so eagerly taking his cock in your mouth over and over again, and swallowing all of his cum like you’d never tasted anything better – Fuck, Fred thought, for he felt himself getting hard again.

The third time, it was harder to control his orgasm. He came without even meaning to. His hips jerked erratically. His cock slipped out of your mouth, and ropes of cum spattered all over your face.

“Fred!” you gasped.

Fred merely whimpered, with tears in his eyes. He was helpless except to watch as what seemed like an endless stream of his cum kept spurting out of the end of his cock, drenching you all over with his cum.

“Fred Weasley!” you snapped angrily, when you realized he’d cummed all over your prefect uniform. “Look what you did!” You ended up taking off your shirt, your bra, and your skirt and laying them aside.

“Sorry,” Fred groaned. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Well, learn to,” you said simply. Then – Fred’s mouth fell open in shock as you fell to your knees again. This time, you gathered up your breasts and you rubbed your breasts against Fred’s cock. For a moment, Fred relaxed a little because your breasts were so soft. But then, he realized that there was a different issue here, which was that your nipples were very sensitive, so your rubbing up against Fred affected you as much as it affected him. Your head slowly fell back and your mouth, already glistening wet from sucking all night on Fred’s cock, parted to let out a beautiful moan. Oh Gods, Fred moaned back in his head. I – I can’t catch a break from you. Fred’s cock was aching for you yet again. He winced a little, for it was starting to get overwhelming because of how sensitive he was. He’d gotten hard and cummed for you three times in the past twenty minutes.

But you, look at you, Fred thought, half in ecstasy and half in misery, because now that you were only wearing your panties, socks, and sneakers, watching you bounce up and down for him, with your breasts pressed to his cock, was an unbelievably hot sight.

And now, you were moaning for him, saying unbearably cute things like, “Cum on my breasts this time. Please, Freddie. Please. It’s the least you could do for me, don’t you think? Huh? Given how you’ve ruined my uniform.” Then, as you rubbed your breasts against him harder and faster, coaxing his cock right back up, your talk devolved into, “Feels so g-good –Feels so good, F- Freddie - ah!”

“Baby, you’re just – this is just – you’re fucking torturing me here,” Fred whined.

“What?” you huffed out, frowning. “I’m – I’m not! That’s mean. When I’m d-doing my best to make you cum.”

“Fuck. Please!” Fred was moaning just about non-stop now, with little growls mixed in there when your breasts pressed up against the tip of his cock, which happened whenever you naturally squeezed your breasts together just a bit more, enveloping the head of Fred’s cock in your soft, warm, and now dewy breasts.

Fred was squirming against his binds for all he was worth, but he just couldn’t break through his tie. Besides that, after multiple rounds of cumming for you, he had slipped into a most uncomfortable position without even realizing it. He was half-leaning back against the desk, legs weak as you repeatedly made him dizzy with pleasure. With his wrists tied up behind his back, Fred was unable to use his arms for any balance or support. He tried, stretching out his fingers to touch the top of the desk, but he had to use all of his strength in his arms and chest to use just his fingers to support himself.

You knew. You could see his fingers striving to touch the tabletop, and you could see his arm muscles and his chest straining to support himself – and you loved it. You loved Fred’s chest, and you especially loved seeing the way it rose and fell when he was struggling like this. And for letting you have him this way, you were going to reward him.

Bending your head down, you kept your breasts pushed up against the base of his cock, while you started to lick and suck at the head of his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Fred groaned. “You’ve got – to – hah – stop,” he panted out, barely getting the words out. He had to swallow before he continued to huff out, “Or you’re g-gonna fucking – hah – kill me with this m-mouth of yours.”

Fred could feel your lips suddenly curving up against his cock. Through the thick haze in his own mind, Fred heard you confess, “That’s the plan, baby.”

You lifted your head and gazed up at him. You were panting, too, but you composed yourself enough to reveal, “Just so you know, I was thinking of going easy on you, but the way you split my legs open to tongue-fuck me – oh, Freddie, it made me so wet, and it’s making me wet just thinking about it again. So, I’m going to do the same to you. You will never, ever, ever forget tonight.” You leaned back down and gave his throbbing, overstimulated, and weeping cock a soft little kiss.

“You’re – hah, nngh - ” Fred exhaled suddenly as you wrapped your lips around his cock again and sucked hard – “you’re mean tonight, too – you – you witch - ah!”

You giggled. “Oh, trying to be more creative with the name-calling, are we? ‘Witch’ is pretty pathetic. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll never beat my name for you - boy toy.” With that, you pushed your head down on his cock again and you proudly made him cum. You sucked on his cock until your cheeks were hollow, and then you pushed your head forward, until you could feel Fred’s cock in your throat, and you shook your head a little, stimulating his cock as much as you could.

“N-Nngh! F-Fuck – AH!” Fred came so hard that his hips buckled. With a fearsome growl, he yanked his wrists apart with enough force that he broke his tie in half, which was quite a feat, considering that the tie was made of thick silk and nylon.

You gasped as Fred, finally free of that ridiculous makeshift cuff, reached down and gripped your hair so hard it jerked your head back.

“Oh, gods. What did I do to deserve this?” Fred moaned out, even as his fingers were tangled deep in your soft, pretty hair. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

You paused and looked up at him, though with some difficulty, on account of how tightly he was holding onto your hair. You asked him, genuinely curious, “Do you mean that in a good or bad way?”

Fred looked down at you, annoyed. Through gritted teeth, he told you, “Tch. Bad, of course. I’m a fucking to – a-ah, ah!”

You’d taken his cock in your hand again and, holding it against your open mouth, you gently pumped it in your hand, wanting every last drop of cum he would give you. As you did, you whispered, both adoringly and confidently, “That’s right. You’re my toy. My little boy toy, Freddie… Mmm, your cum tastes so nice, sweetheart.”

Fred was sweating and shivering all over and whimpering like a little puppy. How could you do this to him? Make him hard, and then cum, and make him hard for you again, and then cum again – in your mouth, in your throat, on your breasts, on your face…

Seeing that Fred was genuinely getting overwhelmed, you stopped at once. You put both your hands on his hips, trying to steady him, and you let him hold on tight to your hair. You made sure to place some slow, soothing kisses on his lower stomach, and then you whispered, in a voice that was absent of any disguise or teasing, “Are you okay? If you don’t want to do this any longer, just say it, and I won’t do it. It’s okay, baby. If it’s not pleasurable to you, I don’t want to do it to you.”

“Well, no, that’s not… I – I do want it,” Fred murmured. He felt embarrassed, but he didn’t want you to worry about him and honestly, he did love it.

Fred’s eyes slowly slipped down back to you. Fred could see that your lips were slightly puffy, and he also saw the way that you were sitting there, at his feet, with your hands on his hips and pressing calming kisses to his stomach, while your own tummy was so full of his cum that you weren’t going to need dinner tonight or breakfast tomorrow morning.

“You’re really okay?” you checked in with Fred.

“Yeah,” he mumbled tiredly. “I just – I came so much. I don’t think I’ve ever…”

You stood up and gently touched his shoulders.

Fred immediately wrapped his arms around you and leaned into you. Despite being genuinely tired, he whispered jokingly into your ear, “Are you getting all soft on me right now, baby? Even though I’m just your boy toy?”

You paused. You wanted to see his expression, but Fred was hugging you so tightly that you couldn’t see his face. Letting him hold onto you, you whispered in reply (with no idea why the two of you were whispering as though you were trading secrets in kindergarten, when you’d spent the last two hours in here, moaning and groaning and saying who-knows-what-kind-of-unrespectable-filth), “So, you agree - you’ll be my boytoy?”

It was Fred’s turn to pause.

“You still on about that?” Fred finally muttered, sighing. “You’re seriously so weird.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you replied patiently.

You felt Fred nudge his face down your cheek and then you felt him bite your neck – none too gently, at that.

“Ah,” you breathed out.

Fred sighed yet again, and then he groaned out, in defeat, “Fine, I will. Fuck me, but yes, I’ll do it.”

You smiled, happy with his answer. But you had yet another question remaining for him. “A good boytoy?” you stressed.

Fred pulled away you just a little to look at you. “Well,” he said honestly, “I can’t promise that. I’d be lying to your face if I promised that.”

“True,” you agreed, amused. “Even today, you broke your binds without my permission.” You abruptly leaned down and with a cute, soft sound of “angh,” you lightly bit down on his nipple.

“Ah!” Fred gasped. “What the hell was that for, you little demon?”

You quickly let go and then gently swirled your tongue on his nipple, to soothe him. “That was your punishment.”

“Punishment? But I didn’t mean to, I swear,” Fred said, and your heart suddenly felt all tight and warm when his low voice dipped into a whine, as if he was upset that he wasn’t getting enough credit for trying, “It was just that – well, it felt so good… having your little mouth on me like that - ” Fred quickly stopped himself. “Shit, I shouldn’t think about that. I’ll get hard again.”

“Really? Again?” You lifted your eyebrow at him. “I was impressed by how many times you could cum for me today, and you’re telling me you can do it again?”

Fred blushed and looked away from you. In a soft mumble that you barely heard, he said, “I don’t think you understand what you do to me…”

Oh, Fred, you thought to yourself. Then, you slid out of his lap and dropped to your knees, which were sore and slightly bruised from how long you’d spent on the classroom floor today, again.

“What – What are you doing?” Fred said apprehensively. “If you suck me off again, I honestly think I could float off to heaven today.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you replied. “It wouldn’t do to ruin my toy on the first day.” Instead, you picked up the pink chalk and drew a heart on Fred’s pelvis, just over his cock. Then, beaming brightly, you looked up at Fred and announced, “We match!”

Fred paused. Then, he let out a long, exasperated groan. “You are so fucking weird. Why did I have to fall for you?”

When you heard Fred say that, you blinked. Fall for me? But this is just sex. Obviously. Neither of us would have done all of the crazy things we just did to each other if it was for real. I mean, that’d be way too embarrassing. Right?

Unsure of how to react, you ended up absent-mindedly drawing hearts all over Fred’s abs. As you distracted yourself by drawing pink hearts all over Fred, you mused aloud, “Drawing with chalk is fun, isn’t it? Drawing on the crocodile must have been nice.”

In a wry, deadpan voice, Fred said wittily, “I thought you said you didn’t see any crocodile.”

“Ah.” The chalk stuttered to a stop, as you blinked awake. You had slipped up.

You tried to think of a comeback, but before you knew it, Fred had scooped you up from the floor.

As you felt yourself being lifted up, you hurriedly tried to save face, mumbling, “I didn’t mean crocodile. Not really. No, I meant alligator. Yes, that’s right. Alligator. There is a difference, Fred Weas – Mmpf!”

Fred sat back down on the chair and then, pressing both of his hands to your cheeks, he turned your face and kissed you, cutting off your lecture on the crucial difference between crocodiles and alligators.

Blushing, you continued to mumble out, “But I wasn’t done speaking – I – alligator…”

Fred whispered to you, “You’re so cute.”

Your eyes widened. Me? Cute? After all the pranks and mean jokes and humiliating sex things I put him through?

The chalk slipped from your fingers and dropped to the floor, where it snapped in half in a puff of pink dust.

“By the way,” Fred said, and you suddenly felt his fingers dance lithely along the curve of your ass, only to slip in and gently push at the crystal heart, “what about this heart? Have you marked this place for attention, too, hm?”

“Ah,” you breathed out softly, as you felt Fred finger the heart and then push it inside of you a little further.

“Well, clearly, the answer is yes,” Fred said, smirking at you.

You didn’t quite know how to respond to all this. Now, it was you feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“What?” Fred said, picking up on your slightly blanked-out expression. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

You tilted your head at him. “Um… Gormless worm. Where did you get that one from?”

“Oh,” Fred answered, “Trelawney called me that when I ‘predicted’ that she was a fraud. I said it was an undeniable message written right there, in my teacup. And wouldn’t you know it – I saw it in the crystal ball as well. And oops, would you believe that the very next night, I saw in the stars a glittering constellation that spelled out, ‘In twelve months, Trelawney will still know jack shit about Divination.’”

An amused smile appeared on your lips, but you berated him, “That’s mean, Fred.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? No one else is a Seer here, so it’s not like we can really check her and get her fired.”

“Still. It’s disrespectful to tell a Professor that they don’t know anything about their own subject.”

“Well, she kept spouting stuff about how I was going to die, and she spent all of last year telling Harry he was going to die…”

“Harry? Harry Potter?”

“Yeah.” Fred shifted a little uneasily, as he admitted, “Er – I may have felt a little bit angry about how Trelawney kept pestering Harry. Because, well, you know that I got my little brother Ron to take that class? I recommended Divination as a joke, but he really signed up for it. And Harry signed up with him.”

“Fred,” you sighed, while leaning into him to rest your head on his shoulder, “you’re terrible.”

Fred snickered. He lifted his chin a little, and you naturally slid towards his middle just a little, so that you were tucked in under him. Holding you in his arms, he replied back, completely honestly, but also with such adoration in his voice, “So are you, love. So are you.”

Tagged User(s): @saltstacks

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #Joke's On You

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oworiio · 3 years

Note

non con w/ kisaki <3? welcome to tumblr cant wait for ur other writings btw

impure

summary: it was only a nice gesture, but now your vision is blurry and things seem so, distant. . . characters: tetta kisaki x reader content: 18+ mdni, dub/non-con, drugged sex, breeding.

a/n: first rq!! kinda scared..!! this is kind of rushed so bare with me :(

"One more for me and her over here!" your co-worker calls out to the bartender, grabbing their purse "I'mma go to the restroom I'll be back quick, besides," They sharply nod their head behind you, "I think he wants your attention (Y/N)." You turn your head, quickly glaring at the man— who's making intense eye contact with you. "Go for it, He isn't even ugly (Y/N)." They wink, leaving their seat to the back of the dinky bar you're at.

'I mean they're right, he isn't that bad looking', You think turning back giving him a quick smile— Giving the bartender a faint 'Thanks' before grabbing your drink, walking up the man.

"Hey." you gave him another smile setting your drink down as you adopt the seat beside him. "Hello." the man replies. "So, you've seen me looking at you, huh?" he picks up his glass downing it fairly quickly. " 'Tender, one for me and the woman." he declares— a slight smug forming in the corner of his mouth "The special."

"Oh no! It's fine, uh my co-worker actually bought me a drink already," You hold up your drink, "See?"

You could swear you saw his eye twitch a little, "I insist."

'That was oddly stern. . .' You willingly accept his alcohol, "Oh- um, My name is (Y/N) by the way, you?"

"Kisaki. Tetta Kisaki." He slides your drink to you, "Hope ya' like sweet drinks." Kisaki smiles devilishly, wide and white plastered his face as he watches you take a sip of it. His smile makes you hitch a bit, maybe he's just bad at smiling? Who are you to assume something's gonna happen?

He turns to his side grabbing his drink to join you— cocking his head; mentally searching your body, "What do you do for work, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just an office worker."

"Oh? you' into business?"

"No no, it's just-"

"You know I have a business myself," He curtly cuts you off—pushing his glasses up. "Really?"

He nods, "Mm."

—

Has time flew by? You don't know. You feel like you've been here for hours, No 10 minutes? No 30 minutes? Has it even been minutes? You can't tell, Kisaki has been mindlessly rambling about business and his work, shit you can't even understand or even care to understand. Things have slowly become muffled and blurry.

"Ki-saki" you call out in a whisper, Things are rapidly becoming unclear and faint, what the fuck is happening to you?

—

"Wake up, wake the fuck up already." A familiar voice being thinly heard as you return to consciousness— his hand wavering your face. "Jesus fuck, finally."

It's Kisaki, wait wait what happened to the bar? where the hell are you? You look beside you, you're on top of a building.. when the hell did you get here? And why were you bound up with a folding gag on your mouth?

Things were finally making sense. Tetta Kisaki drugged you. Your realization and awareness quickly makes your breathing erratic, tears flowing from your face as you cry. Tetta Kisaki drugged you.

"You've finally woken up" Kisaki smiles, squatting down to meet you as he holds and caresses your face softly, "It's been an hour." He strikes your face with no remorse, making your ears ring, returning back to cup your now red cheek.

"Pleafs, let mpf go!" You pleads becoming completely muffled as you sob— face feeling extremely tingly and burning.

"I'm sorry, but no." Kisaki scoffs, "You're lucky you're so beautiful that I didn't want anyone else to have you." his tone is soft— giving you an oddly gentle smile, "After you've been nothing but a fucking bitch to me."

What? you've been nothing but nice to him? Is it because you didn't accept his drink at first? Is that why you're in this situation? Oh god.

"Usually, if whores like you are that impolite they get gang raped, and killed shortly after." He says, flat and cold as if saying something that wild is completely casual. "Mm, but you're different I guess." His warm smile returns as his hands slowly progresses down your shirt, harshly unbuttoning your blouse exposing your lacy bra— causing you to completely shut down and weep into the damp covering; Kisaki's eyes widen with a quiet gasp, "Such a naughty bra (Y/N)."

He quickly moves on, forcefully spreading your legs causing your pencil skirt to ride up and unintentionally revealing your matching panties under your pantyhose. "It's like you're begging for me," He chuckles, "How'd you know I'm a fan of pantyhose (Y/N)?"

His question catches you off guard until he vigorously rips a huge opening on your crotch as he licks his lips, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your slit, "Such a pretty pussy..." he murmurs rubbing his calloused around your folds, momentarily touching your clit making you inhale sharply, "Oh? Is this the special spot (Y/N)?" his voice in a low grown as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking and savoring the little taste making his two fingers moist before returning to your pussy, as his uninvited fingers barge inside your hole. Cruelly sliding in and out, curling and scissoring your walls, you couldn't help but moan into the rag and making his fingers wet with your lewd juices

"You're getting a kick out of this aren't you?" His laugh echos over and over again inside the big room, making a pit in your stomach form more and more. Oh god why does your body have to betray you? Kisaki moves over yanking the gag out of your mouth, "I wanna hear you, tell me how good it feels." his request being ignored as you focused on trying to conceal your moans. No response pisses Kisaki off, removing his fingers to suddenly slap your pussy, He tuts, "Fine. I'll just fuck it out of you instead."

Your eyes widen as you realize he was not joking, The sound of his belt unclasping with his pants unzipping, his cock is out in the open, you don't get a clear image of it since your tears plus the drugs hindered your sight, but it was a decent size. The shamefully say the least. He took no time in trying to prepare you, you've lost that privilege. He positions himself on top of you, pushing your legs all the way to your chest, fully mounting you as he wiggles his tip all over your pussy to find your hole, and when he does he takes no chance of going slow. All in in one go.

Kisaki groans as all of his inches effortlessly get swallowed by your cunt, "Fuck, it's tight." He whispers, "Keep grippin' my cock like that and I'll cum inside you." You couldn't help it. He was so.. thick.

As he recollects himself as he begins to move, pleasure engulfing both you and him with each thrust becoming more and more intense as he picked up the speed and strength, you let out uncontrolled weeping moans. You could almost feel Kisaki's egotistical smile as he hears your mewls, letting out some of his sighs and groans with you. "I'll, fuck- ask again, tell me how good my dick feels (Y/N). Tell me." His voice breaks down a bit unable to keep his fierce tone, moving his hand to your throat when he's ignored again, gripping it as he violently thrusts and bucks his hips inside of you, "Tell me now!" He raises his voice a bit more this time, losing grip he moves his hand to push your face onto the ground as he frantically fucks you, he's close.

The movements making you feel brain dead, you finally comply, "Yes... it's- so good, Kisaki.." Your shameful moans make you stutter, as you're close as well. Hearing you finally obey, Kisaki groans as his frenzied movements blow up as his seed spurts inside of your womb, still stroking making sure you're filled to the brim with not chance of spilling his sperm.

"Good girl."

#tokyo revengers #kisaki #tetta kisaki #kisaki x reader #tetta kisaki x reader #tokyo revengers writing #smut #fanfic #kisaki smut #tetta kisaki smut

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bowdownbucky · 3 years

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 !

part 2 <3

summary: you have an encounter with your best friend’s brother bucky!

pairing: innocent! reader x college! bucky

warnings: cursing, asshole! steve rogers, kissing, drug use, oral (female receiving) fingering.

your heart began to beat heavily, bucky didn’t care that his sister was outside of the door but you started to feel guilty. this was so wrong of you and you didn’t even want to look at yourself. “you better answer her sweethear, she’s not gonna leave.” bucky taunts you, he hand trails your stomach, groping your breasts hard. “uh-im almost finished, i h-had to ohhh.” you slap you hand over your mouth, bucky smirks as he pinches you nipple again.

“what?” rebecca moved closer to the door. “are you okay? i’m coming in.” your eyes widens, you pushed bucky away and slowly cracked the door. “i’m f-fine, the um…pizza! the pizza went down the wrong hatch.” you lie. rebecca’s face screws up. “ew i did not need to know that y/n” you watch as she walks into her room. you close the door, leaning your head back onto the wooden frame.

you closed your eyes and hoped that this was all a dream, that you didn’t actually kiss your best friends brother. you slowly open your eyes only to meet a pair of blue eyes, bucky laughs at you. “went down the wrong hatch? seriously?” you cross your arms in front of your chest. “well what was i supposed to say, sorry can’t talk now i’m making out with your brother. she’s kill me!” you exclaim, you ran your hands down your face in an irrational manner. this was too much for you and bucky didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“would you chill out? here take a hit, it will make you feel better.” bucky offers the small bud once more, you smack it out of his hand. “do you always solve your problems with weed!” you hiss. his eyes were low, he watched as the joint flew onto the ground. you hitch your breath realizing what you did, you see his tongue rub his lower lip. you almost melt at the sight.

“your gonna regret the doll.” he seethes into your ear. he pushes you against the door, you let out a yelp but he covers your mouth. “i know a way you can make it up to me, and you are gonna make it up to me. you know why baby?” you shake your head. “because you don’t want to get on my bad side. i would hate to ruin that innocence of yours.” he whisperers, he hands managed to find their way to you ass, giving it a light squeeze before letting you go.

you move from the door and he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you could barely comprehend what happened let along what he meant by his bad side. you grabbed the nail polish remover and walk back to rebecca room. “finally! you took forever.” you mumble a small sorry and sat on her bed, she lends you her hand and you get to work on her nails, she chose a peach color and wanted you to add a french tip, such a classic.

as you continue painting her nails she squeals making you mess up the curved line. “becca! your nails!” you groan. “i don’t care! why didn’t you tell me?” you tilt your head confusingly. “you and steve hooked up and you didn’t tel me?!” you eyes go wide. “what! no! where did you get that from?” you ask her. she huffs. “no, no, no, no don’t try to act all innocent! you and chris did it and there is evidence on your neck. i rest my case.” you rush off the bed and check your neck, you internally face palm seeing dark purple marks all over your neck.

“i had no idea steve was like that. i guess i have to stop making fun of him now.” she chuckles. “just taking me home my ass! so how was it? was he big? why arent you giving me details.” rebecca whines, kicking her feet in her bed. you ignored her and attempted to kneed out the hickies. as you run the marks you notice bucky staring at you from his room door, you could practically feel his smirk as you watched his reflection go back to his room. you heart raced as you tried to come up with an excuse.

“it’s no big deal i just burnt myself with a straightener.” you curse to yourself knowing she wouldn’t fall for that. “fine don’t tell me! i’m going to sleep, all this secrecy has made me tired.” rebecca yawns, you hoped she wouldn’t ask you about the hickey again because lying was never your forte. you lie in the large bed, clouded in your own thoughts.

did he like you? was he just messing with you? you had so many assumptions of why he kissed you, what bothered you the most was that you had steve. steve was a jock and you were an outcast, you didn’t know how it would work. even though you and steve hadn’t officially said you were together, you still respected him and wanted to be faithful.

the next morning at school, you kept your head down and didn’t talk to anyone for the most part. no one really seems to notice because you were kind of a nobody. you sat in your forensics class, jotting down notes here and there. you stop writing when you feel a hand creep up your thigh. you turn your head toward steve, he kept a straight face and didn’t acknowledge how unamused you were.

“what are you doing?” you whisper. steve’s hand tries to travel up your skirt but you close your legs firmly. “steve!” he turns to you. “we’re in the middle of class.” you point out. “i’m sorry you know i can’t resist you baby. let me make it up to you but taking you out after homecoming.” you hault yourself as you almost roll your eyes at him. steve could be pushy sometimes especially when it came to losing your virginity to him. you hated that rebecca told him that, now he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“oh really.” you say pretending to be intrigued. “the guys and i bought hotel rooms for tonight and we get to bring a special girl along. and you know since your my favorite girl, i thought we could go together and have fun. go swimming, watch movies, kiss, cuddle, the whole nine and maybe some other stuff if you want.” you remove his hand from your thigh and continue writing notes. “i told you steve i’m not ready for that stuff yet.”

steve huffs, returning back to the lesson. your virginity wasn’t something that you kept sacred but you wanted you first time to be meaningful and steve hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet so your answer would always be no if he asked. when school ended you took the bus home, you quickly packed a bag full of makeup, hair supplies and your clothes for homecoming. you checked the time, almost cursing yourself seeing how you were going to be late to rebecca’s house.

you ran as fast as you could to the barnes’ house, you could practically feel the lecture rebecca was going to give you. luckily, you live a few blocks down from the barnes so it wouldn’t be too long of a walk/run. when you arrived at the barnes’ you quickly rang the doorbell. the door opens’ revealing a shirtless bucky who looked like he just got out of the shower. “can i help you?” he smirks looking down on you.

“becca t-told m-me to come, for homecoming.” you gulped attempting to maintain eye contact. his couldn’t help but peek at his glistened abs, you really hoped he didn’t catch on to you checking him out. before he could let out a snarky comment rebecca came gritting down the stairs with curlers in her hair. “there you are! y/n your late and we only have three hours to get ready.” you pushed pass bucky and ran up the stairs.

bucky watched at how nervous you were, it was like the fuel he ran on. rebecca closed her door and pushes you onto her vanity chair. “please tell me i have creative freedom tonight!” rebecca pleads with her big blue eyes staring at you. you sigh and nod. she kisses your forehead before beginning your makeup.

after a few hours of prodding, poking, blending, and brushing, rebecca finally finished your makeup and hair. normally you wouldn’t wear makeup because you didn’t know how to do it very well but when you did have it on you truly looked like a princess. “now carefully get into your dress y/n, i swear to god if you mess up an eyelash i will kill you.” she threatens you with her high pitched voice. you removed your jeans and shirt revealing your body, you quickly unzipped the dress as you start to compare your body to rebecca’s. becca was tall and slim while you were a little curvy. you had a small tummy with stretchmarks and she had a flat tummy with a slender waist. your best friend was beautiful and you didn’t want to see mom jealous, so you put up a front and delt with it.

you and rebecca were finally dressed, rebecca looked stunning in her white and pink dress. with the help of rebecca and mrs.barnes, you had pick a pale green dress, the curve of the dress fit you like a glove. the creases on the dress made you look more mature and sexier. you were never use to being sexy so the look on your face made rebecca freak out. “you totally hate it, i knew we should’ve gone with the black dress.” you shake your head. “n-no! it looks…great. thank you becks.” the door opens, your heart quickens when you meet a pair of bright eyes. you noticed bucky had put on a shirt, a part of you were bummed out. “would it kill you to knock! we’re girls who need privacy!” rebecca yells. bucky didn’t give his sister the time of day, his eyes were fixated on you. you felt self conscious as he stared at you long and hard. “mom and dad are going to a banquet dinner in manhattan. they won’t be back until tomorrow.” he tells rebecca. she crossed her arms in confusion. “what? no! i was supposed to have the car tonight. how the hell are we supposed to get to hoco?” rebecca flings her arms up dramatically.

bucky chuckles at his sister’s agony. “wait!” you spoke up as bucky was about to walk away. “c-can y-ou drive us?” you ask quietly. rebecca pulled your arm. “are you crazy? do you know what people say if we shows up to homecoming in a pickup truck?” rebecca vocalized. you couldn’t care less what people had to say, you just wanted and excuse to be see bucky. “becca this is important to you and even you said yourself we had to be there under any circumstances.”

rebecca whines. “fine but you’re dropping us off a block away. i need to retouch my hair, you’ve made me stress away the curls.” you watched as she pushes past bucky, leaving the two of you. you stare at him for a second then turn around, attempting to act uninterested. “you know you should skip this whole homecoming thing altogether.” bucky told you. “what! no, this is important to becca and i promised her i’d be there.” you felt his presence behind you, your back was pressed to his front. “come on doll, you never seemed like the type to be into this stuff anyway. i have a few places we could go instead. wouldn’t that be way more fun.” he was baiting you and hell, you were falling for it very hard. he pushed your hair to the side, laying a kiss on your shoulder. his hand cupped your waist, pulling you as close as you could get.

his pressed more kisses up your neck, he liked testing you, he would make you beg for it if you gave him the chance. “c’mom dollface, don’t you wanna have fun with me?” you almost gave him a nod but refrained. “i should go help rebecca, see you in a few james.” you walk away smiling to yourself, you won this round of the game but best believe, bucky was going to win the next level.

you sat in between bucky and rebecca once more, y’all were currently picking up nathan and steve, your dates for the evening. “you look beautiful beck.” nathan smiles at his girlfriend. rebecca left you in the front with bucky so she could kiss her boyfriend more. steve walks to the front car door but bucky locks him out. “hey man, open the door.” steve groans. the two had seem to have history and now you were going to be in between it. “you know the rules big guy, no douches in the front seat.” bucky smirks. “then why are you sitting up here asshole?” steve sarcastically jokes. rebecca huffed from the back, leaning in the front of the seat. “hey dickheads, we don’t have time for this, have your cat fight after hoco. let’s go!” she demands. steve huffs, taking a seat next to the couple who had no problem with pda.

the ride to the school was pretty silent except for the rock music playing from the radio. you stared out of the window, you could tell bucky was mad because of how tight he was holding the steering wheel, his knuckles were almost white from the tight grip. suddenly, his hand was on your thigh. your eyes widened, you quickly look back to make sure no one saw what was happening. “what are you doing?” you whisper. he doesn’t say anything to you, his hand stays on your thigh and his eyes stay on the road but you could still see the smirk on his face. you tried to push his his hand away but he only moves it higher, almost touching your core. you didn’t want to play games anymore, you were never built for them, you open your legs up more, instead of doing what you wanted, he removed his hand. “alright guys, have a good night.” rebecca and nathan were the first ones to leave the truck. steve exits the truck and stands by youre window. “you coming?” you nod to him. “i’ll be out in a second.” steve walks away from the window, bucky bursts out into laughter.

you throw a punch at his arm but he doesn’t flinch at you. “thats not funny! you’re so mean.” you pout. “no what’s funny is you actually going out with steve.” you eye him in confusion. steve was a good guy, he could be a little pushy but that was just high school boys. “he’s nice and he asked me to go with him. i really don’t see what’s funny bucky.”

“you think just because the guy asked you to a dance, he suddenly changes his player ways. i think you forgot i use to be one of those guys. guys like that don’t fal for girls like you” he pauses. “all he wants is to get you under him and then he’s gonna hop to the next willing participant. god you’re so naive.” you crossed your arms. “you’re such a jerk james! at least he has the decency to not play with my feelings! you’re sister was right! you’re nothing but a-an…asshole.” you yell, leaving the truck with a slam of the door. you surprised yourself at how you went off on him, what did he know about steve. you knew being involved with bucky was bad but now you officially got your sign to stay away from him.

you walked into the school looking for steve. you pushed pass people grinding and dancing on each other. when you find steve you see he’s not alone, he was dancing with lila miller. the two were close together, you turn you back in disgust once you catch the two of them share a very tongue-filled kiss. you sit at the table in annoyance. of course bucky would be right about steve, you hated the fact that he was right.

it took an hour and a half for steve to find you sitting at the table, watching everyone have fun. “hey y/n sorry i was waiting for you but then the guys wanted to go take some shots in the bathroom.” steve leans over to kiss your lips but you dodge him. he looks at you with a confused face. “come on let’s go dance.” he offers you his hand, you play with the fork that was covered in strawberry cake. “i’m good, maybe you should go dance with lila instead.” you say. steve sits back down in the chair, he cleared his throat. “you saw that? i didn’t think you’d be mad, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”

you roll your eyes, pushing your plate away from you. you get up and begin walking to the double doors. as you enters the hallways you ignore steve calling your name. “y/n! can you just wait a minute!” he yells, pulling your arm back causing you to hault. “it was just a dance, i was being nice. you can’t just get mad at me like that, i asked you to be my girlfriend more than once and you said no.”

“because all you want from me is sex which is not ready to give to you. you don’t think i hear about you hooking up with girls in the gym closet. i don’t want to be the next dumb girl who becomes a play thing for you.” you snap on him. “oh come on, sex is just sex, why do you make such a bug deal over this?” he groans.

“it’s not just sex steve, i want it to be meaningful and memorable. i’m sorry if i don’t want to hook up in a sleezy hotel.” you yell, your faces were extremely close. “and you think barnes is gonna make it special? god you’re so naive.” you furrow your brows, what did bucky have to do with this situation. “he has nothing to do with this steve! you asked me to come to this dance with you only for you to dance with another girl and make me look dumb sitting there waiting for you. you can’t take your hotel invite and shove it up your ass.” you walk away from steve, this time he didn’t bother calling your name. after he heard you curse at him he knew you guys were not going to work this out

you sit on the stairs of the school, tears slowly slid from your eyes. you felt so stupid and used, you knew steve was right but it still hurt. you two weren’t together and if he wanted to take another girl to the hotel he could because you weren’t together. you cringe at how bucky was right about steve, you wanted to be angry at him but he did warn you.

you decide to head home, walking alone the lonesome streets of brooklynn. you were wet due to the copious amount of rain fall, you shiver once more and continue to walk to your house. you noticed a familiar truck driving beside you. bucky rolls down his window. “get in.” he tells you. you continue walking, deciding to ignore the older boy. “come on doll it’s raining. a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone.” you couldn’t believe he as trying to flirt with you right now. you were hurt by his words and you were standing your ground, well that was until you heard a loud crack of lightning. you quickly rushed into the truck, slamming the door behind you.

before bucky could speak you began to talk. “just because i’m sitting in here with you, doesn’t mean i forgive you.” you seethed. bucky nods at you. “okay.” you angrily slap his arm. “okay? are you serious right now? how about a sorry for being a jerk!” you yell at him. bucky doesn’t acknowledge you, he starts looking for something in his truck. “god! boys are stupid! all you do is crave sex and hurt girls!” you rant, arms crossed over your chest. once you finished your rant you peek over at bucky holding two blunts. “wanna get high?”

you later found yourself in bucky’s room, high as a kite. you didn’t know what effect he had on you but you gave into his temptation. you sat on his bed, letting him shotgun smoke onto your mouth. “god you’re so hot.” bucky kisses your right shoulder. you softly hum in response, he trails his kisses to your exposed neck. you knew this was wrong on so many level but it felt so right.

“kiss me.” you whisper against him. the drugs in your system had your hormones at an all time high, you needed him to touch you. bucky locks his lips with yours, tongue roaming each other’s mouth in such a sensual way. bucky’s hand roams your body, cupping your breasts then your neck. you moan as he applies pressure to your throat.

he slides down you dress straps, with every kiss and touch you felt your dress being pulled lower and lower. bucky lifts you up on his lap, helping you out of the green champagne dress. you were fully exposed to him, his large hands grope your ass. he slaps the soft skin sending your lower half to grind against his tight jeans. bucky groans, pulling you closer to his bottom half. you felt the jean material rub against your clothes clit, your body shakes at the new feeling. “god you have no idea what you do to me princess.” he moans into your neck. his right hand unhooks your bra, you let the bra fall off of you. bucky eyes your bare chest, his blue eyes darken filling with lust.

he pulls your breast into his mouth, twirling his tongue around your swollen nipple. you grip onto his shirt, when moves your ass back and forth on his pants. “p-please bucky.” you whine, your body was aching for him to touch you. “what do you want doll?” you grab his, guiding him to your clothed cunt. you slip his hand under you, allowing his to grope your pussy. your mouth gapes open when bucky slowly rubs your clit back and forth.

when he notices you like the feeling of him touching you, it sends him into a deep lustful trance. he flips you over, bucky’ dog tags dangle over you. he kisses between your breast, trailing down to your stomach then he comes in contact with your laced white panties.

you can feel his breath on your wet core. he inhales you, moaning as if your cunt was the drug he was addicted to. he removed your panties from your body, bucky’s cock hardens once he caught a look at your pussy, your cunt was glistening from how wet it was, it took everything in bucky not to dive right in. “your so wet for me baby, and i haven’t even touched you yet. your pussy is begging for me to devour it.” bucky taunts. he slips one finger in your folds, your back arches at the finger passes your clit.

“bucky…please. i’ll do anything.” you beg. bucky perks an eyebrow at you. “anything?” you nod vigorously. “you’re going to cum for me three times. understand?” you nod your head. bucky licks a stride up your cunt. he moans at the taste of you. bucky wraps his pink lips around your clit, your legs spread wide as you beg for him to devour you. your back arches more, his hands pin your waist down to keep you steady, you screw your eyes shut as he sucks your clit into his mouth softly.

you moan out in pleasure, letting your hands grip his soft brown hair. you tug on his roots, attempting to push him closer to you. bucky pulls away earring a whine from you, he slips his middle finger into your core. at first his movements were slowly, he was preparing before adding his ring finger. you rode his fingers, moaning as he pumped you. you watch as he spits on your core, watching his saliva mix in with your cunt. you felt your stomach tighten, bucky felt your pussy clench around his fingers, imagining you around his cock.

he wastes no time, diving into your pussy. his tongue rapidly worked your clit, his fingers pumping you at a fast pace. your body was overwhelmed by all the stimulation. “bucky!” you scream at the top of your lungs. you were now grinding against his face, he didn’t tease you anymore, now he was on a mission to give you your orgasm. your legs shake, you cry out for bucky, your toes curled and your back arches to its full extent. bucky slows his movements as you come down from your high.

you collapse on his bed, you shiver as you feel bucky remove his hand from your pussy. you try to catch your breath, bucky hovers over you. “who knew my babydoll had that in you.”

#bucky barnes headcanon #marvel imagines #winter solider imagine #best friend!bucky #bucky barnes drabble #dad! bucky barnes #bucky barnes #avengers endgame #bad boy! bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #college! bucky barnes #bestfriendsbrother! bucky barnes

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Note

Hiii! I don't know if your requests are open. But i would still like to request one. I would a knb one where the gom+kagami gfs wore a skirt(which shrunk during washing and had no choice but to wear it) and every time they bent, their patience are tested until they couldn't take it anymore. Their s/o completed obvious to the attention they are getting from others.

GOM Boys + Kagami and Short Skirt Reader (f!reader)

Akashi

“[Y/N]-chan, lets go in here.” You pause in your walk with Akashi around town, spending the lovely outside, in front of a pose looking clothing store.

“Here? Why?”

“I thought you might like to buy something in here.” He replied with a soft smile.

“Oh...Akashi-kun...I don’t know. It looks awfully expensive.”

“It’s my treat.” He countered. The corners of his soft smile becoming strained. “I’ll get you anything you want.”

“I appreciate it Akashi-kun, but I couldn’t let you do that. Spending money on me like that would make me feel uncomfortable.”

“[Y/N] please.” Now not only were the corners of his mouth strained, but his voice as well. “I’m trying to put this as delicately as possible but, you’re skirt is too short.” You blink at Akashi. Not expecting that, nor did you really think your skirt was that short. Sure you’d had it since middle school but... “It’s incredibly distracting, and not just for me.” His mouth scrunched in an unflattering frown before it softened again. Those beautiful crimson eyes darting to the left, sending a pack of boys running off. “So please, let me buy you a new skirt or outfit. You look beautiful in anything, so you don’t need a short skirt like that to get my attention.”

That hadn’t been your intention in wearing the skirt today and you blush. “Well....ok.” It was always really hard to argue with him.

Akashi bought you a new outfit in the store; you dare not look at the price tags. You continue on your date hand in hand. Your skirt you had thrown in the shopping bag after changing mysteriously vanishing when you got home.

Aomine

The bell for second period ending chimed, and was soon drowned out by the sound of students shuffling through the halls. You were about to join them to your next class when Ryo asked if you’d seen Aomine. He wasn’t in class, apparently, and he took it upon himself to collect his teammate’s assignments to pass them on to him.

Such a nice guy.

You look towards the window, where the sun was shinning brightly, and sighed. “I’ll give them to him.” You knew exactly where he was.

Climbing the stairs to the roof, you of course find Aomine there. Stretched out like a cat in the warm sun, dozing the day away in the fresh air.

“Honestly Aomine, you couldn’t even make it to second period?”

The tall, tan basketball star opened his eyes slowly from his cat nap and grinned at you. "What up with your skirt?”

Your cheeks turn red and you tried to futilely pull the front down. “I-I-It shrunk in the wash! The school was supposed to get me a new one but they didn’t have my size!”

“Nah. Keep it. I like this one much better.” His grin grew wider. “Did you wear those blue panties just for me today? Since it’s my favorite color?”

Your blush deepened and your growled at your boyfriend. You swing your arm to swat at his propped up knee but he caught your wrist and pulled you down. Forcing you to fall haphazardly on top of him; just like he planned.

“A-Aomine! Q-Quit it!”

“Nope. No can do.” He replied. His hand on your thigh. “I held out as long as I could. You can’t expect me not to react when you wear your battle panties in front of me.”

Needless to say, neither of you made it to third period.

Kagami

Another lively afternoon at Serin basketball practice. You were sitting on the bleachers, watching your friends and boyfriend, play 2-on-2 games around the court for training. You would cheer Kagami and some of the others on. Doing your part to motivate the team as your way to show support.

Riko finally blew her whistle to call for a break and the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“H-H-Here!” You look put at Kagami when he came up to you, cheeks flushed, holding out his warm up jacket. “Put it on!”

“I...uh..thanks Kagami-kun. But I’m not cold.” You assume that why he gave it to you.

“It’s not that! Just put it on! Don’t worry. It’s not dirty or anything.”

“Um...ok. But why?”

“Don’t worry about it!” He snapped. “Just put it on!”

You frown and grumble a little, before you demand, “no. Not until you tell me why.”

Kagami grumbled himself and looked away. “....your skirt....” He said it so quietly that you have to give a little ‘hn?’ and he repeated, “your skirt. It keeps riding up when you cheer. I can’t practice right.....”

You blink in confusion, then blush. You hadn’t thought about your skirt coming up when you cheered. Now you felt embarrassed.

You took his jacket and put it on. Obviously swimming in it with your boyfriend’s large frame, which was good for once because it fell past your skirt for coverage. “Is this better Kagami-kun?”

The red head’s eyes went a little wide, and his cheeks darked to almost the shade of his hair. “N-N-No!” He exclaimed, taking you by surprise, before he looked away and scratched his head. “Now you look even cuter......”

Kise

“It was so nice of manager-san to give me this skirt. I can’t believe I own something from a designer now!”

Kise grumbled beside you as you left his photoshoot. His hand attached to yours squeezing it tighter as you walked. “Kise-kun? Is something wrong?”

The blonde seemed to realize that he was frowning, and quickly bounced back to his jovial self. “What? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong [Y/N]-cchi. Just tired I guess.” You give a suspicious hum at Kise. Knowing that when he did 180s like this that something really was wrong.

“Kise, you know you can tell me anything. If something wrong, just tell me.”

“It’s....your skirt.” He finally confessed. Looking slightly to the left, away from you. “I’m all for fashion, and it was really nice of manager-san to give it to you, but....it’s too short. And I didn’t want to say anything because I sound like a cranky old man, but it’s true! [Y/N]-cchi’s perfect legs are only for me! I don’t want anyone else to see them!”

You snicker at Kise’s outburst. He could really be so silly sometimes.

“If you didn’t want me to wear it, then why didn’t you say anything.”

“I didn’t want to insult manager-san.” He told you. “He’s helped a lot with my career. And he really was being so nice to you. Plus, green is not my color.” Meaning he was jealous.

You giggle again and lean up to give him a kiss. “Lets head back to my place then and I’ll take it off. I’ll put on something more ‘appropriate’ for you.”

“Or....maybe don’t.” His hand squeezed yours again, only this time his face held on to a bright grin when he looked at you.

“We’ll see.”

Kuroko

You fiddle with the charm on your phone as you head down the street, leaving your apartment to go meet Kuroko.

He was supposed to meet you at your house, but when you didn't see him outside you just assumed that he got mixed up and went to the bookstore you had been planning to go to instead. Boys could be so spacey sometimes.

"Short," you jump a little at the sound behind you, seeing Kuroko there. "Your skirt is short."

"K-Kuroko-kun! Don't scare me like that! Wait....what?" It took you a minute to process what Kuroko was saying, being startled like that. "My skirt is too short?"

"Yes." Kuroko replied in his normal, soft tone, with a little nod. "It's too short."

You grumble a little and stamp your foot. "Who are you to tell me my skirt is too short??"

"No one I guess. But, I'm your boyfriend." He said. As if you needed to be reminded. "And I don't like other people staring at you, [Y/N]-kun." You blink once back at him. You hadn't noticed anyone staring. Nor had you noticed the slight tightening in Kuroko's fist until now. "It's why I've been following behind you for a while now. To keep your butt safe."

You let out a startled squeal and swat Kuroko in the arm as your cheeks turn red. "D-Don't say stuff like that!" You scold while he rubbed his arm. But...maybe he was right. Maybe it was too short. "Fine. Follow me home and I'll go change."

"Right behind you." Kuroko said with a smirk as he came along.

Midorima

‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’ You repeated over and over in your mind as you sprinted in a mad dash towards school.

You alarm hadn’t gone off, and it was honestly a miracle you had woken up even remotely close to the time with just enough time to make it out the door in a panic. If you some how made it to school on time you would never forget to set your alarm again!!

Cresting the hill, you see the gates to the school coming into view. And, more importantly, Midorima standing there. He was always on time, so he must have been waiting for you. Your heart swelled at the thought of it, and it gave you the extra boost to run fast towards him.

“Midorima-kun!”

“Don’t shout. In any case why are you so -- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!?!”

You come to an abrupt halt in front of your boyfriend. Not expecting that response when you got close to him. “W-What? My uniform?”

“That’s not your uniform! That skirt is too short!”

You look down and turn about as red as Midorima was as you realize the skirt you had pulled out of your closet was your middle school uniform skirt. Not your high school one. They looked close enough in color you hadn’t noticed, and thought the ‘breeze’ was from you running. Could this day get any worse!!

There was movement out of the corner of your eye and you look up from your moping to see a field of green being offered to you. “The Oha Asa is never wrong.”

“M-Midorima-kun.....” You feel like you’re about to cry as you take the scarf and wrap it around your waist. This would do, for now. At least until you could get to your gym locker after first period.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late for class.”

You smile at Midorima and fall in beside him as you head to class. Spirts lifted. Maybe you should listen to the Oha Asa more too.

Murasakibara

"What is the process called when an animal reproduces with itself? Is it A) Biomorphic reproduction? B) Symbiotic reproduction? Or C) Asexual reproduction? ....Mura-kun....? Mura-kun? Are you even listening to me?!"

"Ccccccaaaannnn'ttt...." Murasakibara whined from his place across from you at the table. Looking rather comical scrunched up like that.

"Jeez Mura-kun. I offer to help you study. The least you can do is pay attention."

"Ehh.... I can't. [Y/N]-chin is trying to seduce me."

"W-What??"

The towering teen smirked before he licked the potato chip salt off his fingers, then tugged at the hem of your skirt. "[Y/N]-chin's legs look like tasty mochi. I can't resist."

Your cheeks turn pink and you bat his hand away before returning to your book. "Y-Your...You're not going to get out of this so easy Murasakibara-kun! You need to study!"

Murasakibara frowned with a low hum of disappointment before retuning to his potato chips. "I'd rather have mochi......"

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nineteenninety-six · 3 years

Text

A Good Day for A Wedding

Prompt: The day started gloomy, not quite letting on what beautiful things could happen on a day like this.

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

PROMPT LIST

The day started gloomy, not quite letting on what beautiful things could happen on a day like this.

Oscar was already gone when (Y/N) had woken up, putting her into a foul mood until she drank her coffee. She firmly believed that a kiss and a cuddle from Oscar in the morning always made her day go well and she had yet to be proven wrong.

She checked her phone as she sipped on her coffee, hoping to find out where Oscar had disappeared to but all she got was a text telling her that he would be out all day and Cesar was out of the house too but (Y/N) guessed that he was out with friends, wanting to make the most out of summer break.

Alone at the house, (Y/N) pondered over what to do with her day, she had already cleaned the house the day before and there was enough food in the house so she didn’t need to go shopping but thankfully she was saved by a text from her best friend Lena.

“Nails and shopping day??”

(Y/N) grinned at the text before she sent off an agreeing reply, there was nothing wrong with a bit of retail therapy.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) frowned at the overcast sky, the clouds were dark grey no doubt foretelling the downpour they would receive at some point.

“If only the weather was nicer” (Y/N) complains, “We could have totally had a few cocktails on the porch after we were done if it was sunny”

Lena glanced at the clouds and frowned herself before she shrugged her shoulders, “It’s okay, we’re going to be inside all day anyway”

“Hmm, I suppose”

Lena rolled her eyes as she pulled into the shopping centres parking lot, “Stop pouting. Now, which first, shopping or manicure?” (Y/N) thought about it as they made their way into the building before she finally decided on shopping first,

“Hmm, shopping first, nails after”

Lena hooked her arms in hers and shot her a smile, “Your wish is my command!”

Lena hummed as she looked through the clothes on the rack, she wasn’t really paying attention to what she was looking at as she tried to think of a way to get (Y/N) to buy a particular dress. Oscar told her that as long as it was white, it didn’t matter and even though it sounded fairly easy, Lena hoped that (Y/N) didn’t become suspicious.

“Find anything you like?”

Lena jumped out of her skin when (Y/N) suddenly appeared at her shoulder,

“Oh fuck, you scared me!” Lena threw a mock glare at her friend before turning back to the racks, “But, no I haven’t. What about you?”

(Y/N) grinned as she showed her friend what she had picked up so far, “I got a few shirts and this really cute skirt”

“Oh, that is cute. Where is it? I want one too”

Lena picked up a skirt for herself before they headed to the tills, but she didn’t forget about trying to convince (Y/N) to get a dress.

.•° ✿ °•.

Three stores later and Lena had been unsuccessful in trying to convince (Y/N) to buy a dress that she had found, they were all different styles but were white yet (Y/N) wasn’t interested in any of them.

Lena could tell that (Y/N) was getting tired and she was too so she suggested a little break for the two of them,

“Smoothie break? We’re close to the store that does your favourite”

(Y/N) lit up at the suggestion of smoothies and before Lena knew it, she was getting dragged by an enthusiastic (Y/N) towards the smoothie shop.

After they had gotten their drinks, they sat on one of the benches and eagerly slurped their smoothes and though Lena wished she could just lounge around with her friend and drink smoothies all day, she was on a time constraint.

They were aimlessly wandering around the shopping complex when (Y/N) suddenly stopped in her tracks, eyes locked on a display in a store. The mannequin was wearing a flowy white midi summer dress with short loose sleeves, it was gorgeous.

“Do you like it?” Lena asked, secretly holding her fingers hoping that (Y/N) did enjoy it.

(Y/N) nodded, “It’s so pretty.”

Lena grinned, “Go try it on!”

(Y/N) nodded and made her way into the store and found where the dresses were before going into a changing room whilst Lena looked for shoes that might match the dress.

“So...what do you think?” (Y/N) stepped out wearing the dress and the heels Lena found and spun around.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous...you’re gorgeous” Lena gushed, trying not to cry.

(Y/N) looked at the mirror looking at herself from different angles, “You think?”

“Yes absolutely! You have to get the dress”

(Y/N) nodded and smiled at Lena, “And the shoes of course” .•° ✿ °•.

The girls returned to the car after buying the dress along with getting a manicure and Lena began to drive them back but with a detour.

“Hey, where are we going? You missed the exit”

Lena looked over at her friend and winked at her, “Just a minor detour, don’t worry. I promise you’ll like it”

(Y/N) raised a curious eyebrow but nodded along, it wasn’t as if she was going to jump out of the car anyway.

They arrived at the place which was a small building and what looked like to be a large garden area to (Y/N). They stepped out of the car and (Y/N) looked up at the sky and noticed the dark clouds had disappeared,

“Look, the sun’s coming through”

Lena looked up at the sky and smiled, “Lucky for us”

(Y/N) was shuffled into the building and then guided into a small room before disappearing and (Y/N) was left alone and confused with only her bag with her newly bought clothes.

She wasn’t left alone for long before there was a knock on the door and someone walked in and (Y/N) who assumed it was Lena was surprised when she saw who it actually was.

“Mom?!” (Y/N) was more than confused at this point, “Why the hell are you here? Actually, why the hell am I here? Why are you dressed up?”

(Y/N)’s mother ignored her questions as she made her way over to the bag and opened it up,

“Lena said your dress was gorgeous.”

“Mom!” (Y/N) shouted, fed up “What the hell is happening?”

Her mom sent her a calming smile, “Go get changed into the dress and I’ll tell you what is happening whilst I do my hair”

Knowing that she wouldn’t be getting any answers anytime soon, (Y/N) got dressed and then sat in front of the table with a mirror on it as her mother began to work on her hair.

“Oscar is a very wonderful man, he cares for you a lot. You two are the best for each other and I know you’ll live a happy life with him.” Her mother smiled at her through the mirror, “That is why he decided to do something for you, something big.”

“What?”

Her mother took her left hand in hers and touched the engagement ring that rested on her finger.

“Oh” Suddenly it (Y/N) and she understood what was happening, finally understanding why Oscar had been gone since the morning and why Lena had taken her out and kept pushing her towards white dresses.

“Are you saying that Oscar set up a wedding?”

“I am and he along with your friends and family are out there waiting for you”

“Oh shit” (Y/N) wanted to cry but she quickly blinked away her tears

“Save your tears for when you say your vows” Her mother teased, “You ready? Your father is waiting outside.”

(Y/N) quickly checked the mirror to make sure her makeup was still fine and her hair looked good before she left the room with the mother and met up with her father who was chatting to Lena.

“You ready?” Lena handed her a bouquet with a teasing smile. She herself had changed into different clothes to fit the occasion.

(Y/N) pulled her friend into a tight hug and whispered into her ear, “Thank you”

Lena kissed her on the cheek before she disappeared with her mother leaving just her and her father.

Her father held his arm out, “You ready princess?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and nodded, “I’m ready”

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) and her father stepped out into the garden as Wedding March played from a nearby speaker and as (Y/N) walked down the aisle, she saw all the knowing the smiles on the faces of her friends and family meaning she was the only one who was in the unknown but she didn’t care.

Oscar was up ahead by the altar dressed in a suit with Cesar next to him as his best man and (Y/N) smiled at both of them as she slowly made her way towards them.

The outdoor area was decorated with balloons, flowers, confetti and everything else possible needed for an outdoor wedding. It was simple yet more than enough.

Her father placed her hand in Oscar’s and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he took a seat next to her mother and (Y/N) turned to face Oscar with a grin.

“You are a wonderful yet crazy man, do you know that?” (Y/N) whispered as the officiant began the ceremony.

Oscar sent her a wink before he turned to the officiant to pay attention.

.•° ✿ °•.

With the ceremony over, the reception was in full swing. The altar had been placed aside and tables had been brought out, the food was flowing along with the drinks and Cesar and his friends were the DJ’s.

(Y/N) and Oscar had hidden away in the room that she was in earlier for a few moments of privacy,

“I can’t believe you managed to set this all up without me noticing” (Y/N) giggled as she admired the new ring on her finger.

Oscar wrapped her up in his large arms and pressed a kiss to her head, “You don’t mind that I did all of this without you?”

(Y/N) shook her head, “Absolutely not! The amount of love and care you put into this makes it beyond anything I could have done. Today is amazing and so are you”

Oscar gave her one more kiss before they headed out towards the garden,

“C’mon we’ve got to mingle, eat and drink”

And as (Y/N) fed Oscar some cake, she realised she was wrong. Today, for the first time ever, went well even though she didn’t get a morning kiss and cuddle from Oscar.

#on my block imagines #on my block imagine #on my block #Oscar Diaz #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagines #spooky x reader #spooky diaz #spooky diaz x reader #spooky diaz imagines #spooky diaz imagine #omb imagine #omb #imagines #x reader

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yoongiswiffey · 3 years

Text

You're Not Going Anywhere Pt.1

Pairings: Min Yoongi x Poc Reader

A little Kim Taehyung x Poc Reader

Genre: Smut, possessive Yoongi, Club scene

Word count: 4,235

Tags: #yoongismut #yoongiambw #yoongixpocreader #ambw bts # Black reader

Summary: Y/n finds herself in a sticky position or many where she tried to play the game her way the only thing is she was doomed from the very beginning.

_____________________

“What the absolute fuck!” Your best friend Melody shouts coming out of the bathroom putting in her earrings walking towards your closet.

“I know right,” I scoffed looking at her through the mirror of my vanity after I filled her in on the current situation. It’s our best friend's 21st birthday and the girls and I planned on going out and showing her a good time but Yoongi thought otherwise he thinks I should just stay home while he’ll be out with his friends clubbing. “Like who does he think he is telling me what and what not to do!” I say getting up walking towards Melody picking through my closet trying to find something that catches her eye.

“ Right it’s not even like you’re dating he’s such a hypocrite.” Melody rolls her eyes pulling out a tiny black dress with a rip down the side of the leg with a plunging neckline. “Oh my god babe I’m totally wearing this tonight.” she beams looking at it walking towards my bed rushing to put it on. I mean she’s not wrong Yoongi and I aren’t dating whatsoever we just fuck from time to time so I guess you can say we’re fuck buddies. Wanting to push that thought away I shake my head racking through my closet for the perfect dress.

“Y/n fuck him, we’re going to go out and have a bomb ass night.” Melody says walking over towards the mirror checking herself out with the dress on causing her to smile skipping back over to me hugging me from behind.

“ Let’s get you into a sexy ass dress and fuck shit up tonight, hell let’s get you some new dick.” she shakes her arms wiggling her eyebrows causing me to move with her laughing I shake my head then I find it the perfect dress pulling it out the closet Melody snatches it from me.

“Oh my god Y/n this dress is going to look so good on you.” she analyzed the dress I walked over towards her taking it back making my way over towards the mirror. “I know and you wanna know the catch babe” I smirk putting on the dress looking at the dress in the mirror it’s a little red sparkly tight dress really complimenting my skin tone with slits on both sides of the legs really showing off my curvy figure with spaghetti straps with a open neckline reaching just beneath my breast making the girls sit just right.

“Yoongi bought it.” I state turning my head towards Melody whose just staring at me she walks towards me hugging me looking into the mirror. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” she smiles causing me to laugh, “ Love you too babe come on let’s go.” I walk over grabbing my black ankle strap heels which still does nothing to my 5’5 height.

“It’s going to be a good night” Melody sings songs which makes me laugh.

~~~~~~~

After the short ride to the club we got in without any ease. It seems like everyone's eyes are on Melodys and I push it aside making our way towards our own booth seeing the birthday girl herself smiling as we embrace her. “Happy Birthday Momo.” I say stepping aside “Thank you guys for coming I’m so excited let’s get this thing started.” she cheers, throwing her hands in the air. We cheered with her, “Wait where are the drinks?” I say looking towards the table “I’ll be right back.” I smile, weaving my way through the thick crowd towards the bar finally making it. I wait in between patrons for the bartender to finish his current order. He looks up towards me.

“I’ll be with you in one moment, doll.” he nods towards me. I lean over the counter “Take your time..” I began pausing after searching his shirt for any sign of a name tag which he seems to take notice of. “Taehyung.” he provides, causing me to smile “Y/n, well take your time Taehyung” he counters a smile back finishing up his last order making his way over towards me wiping the counter in front of me.

“What can I get you Y/n?” he asks, leaning forward on the counter. “Can I get 12 shots of tequila?” I ask which causes him to glance behind me towards the obvious group watching me. He stares back down towards me grabbing the cups and a tray and begins cleaning a cup. “Special occasion?” He inquires looking back down towards me with a smile dancing on his face. “Yeah it’s my best friend Momo’s 21st birthday.” I beam turning around pointing to the one wearing a birthday sash and tiara them seeing your action they wave and smile with you returning the favor facing back towards Taehyung who then waves towards your friends you take the chance to really get a good look at him he’s wearing a black button down with the first three button undone with a chain dangling from his tanned neck. Taehyung was a really attractive guy. He seems to feel your stare which makes him look down towards you causing you to look away.

“Looks like you guys are gonna have a fun night.” he chuckles, pouring your drinks, “ Why don’t you go back to your girls I got it.” he says while finishing up your drinks taking off his skirt apron placing it on the counter grabbing your tray walking from behind of the bar making his way towards the front where you stood.

“Taehyung you don’t have to, I got it you have more orders.” you try taking the tray away only for him to move it out of your reach glancing up towards him you notice he’s smirking down towards you, GOD you’d be lying if you didn’t think that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I know I don’t have to but I want to and as for the orders I was actually supposed to be off 30 minutes ago.” he said nodding towards a guy putting on an apron starting to take orders “Jin was running a little late so I stayed back to help.” he says looking down towards where you stood you notice his eyes start to wander down your body slowly reaching there way back towards yours causing you to smirk. “Okay fine let's go.” you take his hand into yours pulling him through the thick crowd with him stopping the bodies from colliding with you making your way back to your table you catch eyes with Melody who smiles at you looking between you and Taehyung which cause you to shrug winking at your best friend.

“Guys this is Taehyung,” You announced, placing a hand on his chest he smiled slyly placing the tray of drinks down on the table. “Sorry for crashing your birthday party Momo.” he glanced at her as she blushed. “No that’s perfectly fine.” Melody damn near yells “I mean no it’s cool or whatever.” she says more quietly which causes you to laugh, catching Taehyungs attention. “Let’s get this night started.” you say grabbing a shot with everyone following your suit “ To Momo '' you all raise your glasses clinking them together downing the first shot of the night. As the night went on you noticed the girls dancing and having a good time. Taehyung and you have been getting to know each other really well. You found out that he’s really into art on a different level and fairly enjoys photography. As you go to spark up another conversation you hear an almost too familiar laugh from a booth not far from yours you glanced over and saw it. You see Yoongi there with another girl on his lap. Your eyes moved down towards his hand placed on her waist while the other nursed a glass of his preferred drink whiskey. Seeing this you scoffed thinking about how he told you not to go out only to see him here with his friends and another fucking girl on his lap, what pissed you off even more was how good he fucking looked. Wearing a deep red button down shirt with two or three of them undone with his black Armani blazer with his favorite chain plus the one YOU bought him you notice the girl grab it and your blood begins to boil. Melody followed your gaze more like your glare and noticed as well.

“What a fucking dick.” she crosses her arms then her eyes light up like how they do only when she has some plan. She turns to leave which you take the chance to take another shot you turn your attention towards Taehyung to find he’s already staring at you his lip caught between his teeth letting it fall, then you hear it your favorite song Body by: Summer Walker you know exactly what Melody is doing so you don’t even question it you place one perfectly manicured hand awfully high on his thigh while the other made it’s way into his flawlessly styled hair playing with it looking at it then down towards his eyes.

“Wanna dance.” you asked in a sultry voice getting up placing your hands on his spread legs leaning foward giving him the perfect view of your breast which he slowly and shamelessly might I add gladly took the opportunity to look at taking his time before staring back into your eyes you noticed something changed in his and you know it all to well. Lust. “Lead the way babygirl.” he rasps licking his bottom lip you smiled grabbing his hand pulling him up while he grabs another shot knocking it back before you head towards the dance floor on your way you noticed Melody by the Dj winking at you, you raised your eyebrows smirking, pulling Taehyung to a open part of the dance floor placing your hands on his chest and began to sway your hips staring up at him through your lashes which makes him grab your hips pulling you closer biting his lip letting out a scoff.

“God Y/n you’re killing me.” Taehyung chuckles, smiling down towards me, his large hands roaming my hips placing my arms around his neck playing with the nape of his hair. “Oh baby we can’t have that I won’t get to have any fun.” I pout winking at him smiling, turning around grinding my ass against his covered crouch with him quickly replacing his hand on the tops of my thighs. “Hmm kind of fun are you suggesting babygirl?” he leans down and whispers into my ear making butterflies stir up inside my stomach reaching a hand behind his head while the other is set on top of his hand placed on my thigh lifting my head towards his ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I whisper back, taking his earlobe in between my lips, sucking it lightly, letting it go, licking it slightly while grinding back into him, which earns me a groan and a squeeze to my thighs.

“God Y/n.” he rasped which causes me to laugh feeling the stares of someone’s eyes on me I look up and if I wasn’t paying attention I would have missed it but I seen it in between the few heads I saw him staring me down, cup in hand standing taking a sip jaw clenching nose a flare. Now is my chance and I take it. Grinding back into Taehyung rolling my hips as we sway from side to side the sound of music plays through me.

I can’t tell you what it is

But you got me goin’ crazy

Sex with you is so amazin’

Ahh How, how long can you go, baby

Better last till my body’s sore ‘cause it crazy...

As the song plays on I pulled down Taehyungs head closer kissing him which he responds by kissing me back with such urgency pulling away I glance back up through my lashes and just like a ticking time bomb Yoongi exploded chugging the remainder of his glass clenching his jaw eyeing me down with the coldest stare I almost shivered, but not wanting to back down I did the one thing that came to mind and sent a kiss his way. Having enough of the show he starts making his way towards Taehyung and I giving me a sudden wave of nervousness mixed with excitement as I continue to dance on Taehyung, on his way towards us Yoongi remains eye contact with me and God I think I’ve made the biggest mistake he’s fuming. In little then no time Yoongi is standing in front of us. I see him but I act like I can’t. “Y/n let’s go.” Yoongi says calmly, staring at Taehyungs hand on the inside of my thighs to anyone else that would have gone unnoticed but I saw the look in his eyes and the way his jaw was tight. Taehyung takes notice of someone in front of us.

“Who's your little friend baby?” Taehyung says looking up from the nook of my neck hearing the smirk in his voice I smirk a little, swallowing down all the nerves. “Tae baby this is Yoongi, Yoongi Taehyung.” you say noticing Yoongis slight almost unnoticeable grimace in calling Taehyung baby loving how your getting a rise out of him you decided to keep going Yoongi goes to open his mouth but you cut him off. “I’m actually thinking about going home with him he’s promised me a goodnight and it’s been a while since I’ve had a nice good fuck.” you pat the side of Taes neck softly, never breaking eye contact with Yoongi. “Isn’t that right Daddy?” You whispered towards the end gaining a look from Yoongi you can’t place. Jealously? Anger? Hurt? But as soon as it surfaced it’s gone again masked by a plain look of boredom.

Before Taehyung can open his mouth you’re snatched from his arm placed behind Yoongi. “Don’t you ever place your hands on my girl again.” Yoongi states, staring Taehyung down which causes him to chuckle. “Your girl if I remember correctly you were just coped up with some random girl?” Taehyung says slyly, diverting his attention back towards me tilting his head to enable to catch a glance of me behind Yoongi. “Y/n let’s get out of here Doll.” he says Yoongi not even giving you a chance to answer grabs your wrist pulling you in the direction of the doors following in suit trying to catch up with his long strides.

“You know where to find me doll when you need to get a real dicking down.” Taehyung calls out to your descending figure. When you both exit the club you’re finally able to pry Yoongis tight grip from your wrist. “Let me fucking go!” you push into his chest turning to leave only for Yoongi to grab your hand spinning you around. “Get in the car.” he states staring at you, you look at him in utter disbelief scoffing “No who the f-“ you started only for him to cut you off.

“Y/N GET YOUR BRATTY ASS INTO THE CAR.” he says firmly yet calmly towering over you staring you down leaving no room for discussion seeing so you make your way towards his car getting in slamming the door while you’re at it. Soon after you hear him sliding in starting the car driving off, after sitting in complete silence for a while you decided to turn on the radio to cut the deafening silence you go to reach for it only before Yoongi grabs your hand placing it on your thigh returning it back onto the steering wheel only then you notice how hard he was actually gripping the wheel to the point his knuckles turned white. Realizing now you’re in deep shit you begin thinking of all your possible options going with the safest route.

“Baby I-“ you started only to be quickly hushed from a single glance from Yoongi turning around facing the window as you sadly accepted your inevitable doom.

~~~~

Sometime later when you finally make it to Yoongis house he pulls the car into the driveway shutting off the car, not taking his eyes off the steering wheel. “I want you in my room by the time I can even step foot a single foot in that house.” Yoongi states calmly which causes me to look at him trying to find a word to say but it's caught in my throat when he catches my eyes turning towards me. “Did I stutter?” he questions raising a brow to which I immediately open the door quickly making it towards his door pushing it open not even bothering to close it knowing he’s just a step behind me quickly making my way upstairs to his oh so familiar room I take my place in the middle of his bed and wait for the end of my life. A few minutes later I hear the door close followed by the slow ascending footsteps and just like that I’m just struck with all kinds of nerves looking down playing with the hem of my dress. Not being able to hear any more footsteps, I lift my head seeing Yoongi standing in the doorway walking into his room. My eyes follow him as he begins taking off his blazer.

“Did you have a good night Y/n?” Yoongi questions tossing his blazer on his bedside chair peering at me through his silver locs. I open my mouth to say something but my mouth feels so dry closing it swallowing once I try again still unable I opt towards a soft shaking of the head. Yoongi then starts to unbutton the cuffs on his sleeves and began to roll them up one by one “No you didn’t have a good night baby?” he questioned slightly tilting his head staring at you rolling up his other sleeve to his elbow “You seemed to have a fun night didn’t you Doll.” he practically spat out the pet name Taehyung called you “Yoongi ba-“ you started “You know what me too I also had a shitty night. Would you like to hear how Daddy’s night went?” he says placing his ring filled hands on the edge of the bed leaning forward staring into your eyes still not trusting your voice you nod earning a smirk from Yoongi “Use your words baby.” he says eyes never leaving yours waiting on an answer.

“Y-es.” you practically whisper earning a slight head tilt from the man in front of you “Yes?” he asked standing up walking over to his dresser taking off his favorite chain but leaving the one you bought him on. “Yes what?” he inquires staring at you through the mirror while placing his chain away, knowing what he means “Yes D-Daddy'' damn it all to hell why am I so nervous he accepts the answer with a nod of the head “My night was quite boring to be honest but then the weirdest thing happened two girls walked into the club and caught everybody’s attention.” he states causing you to go cold whipping your head up meeting his eyes he knew you were there the whole night yet you didn’t spot him till the end of the night. “I couldn’t care less you went out with your girls to have fun but do you know what did it for me?” he ask spinning around leaning against the dresser playing with the rings on his finger causing me to immediately take notice of the action quickly looking back into his eyes when he started talking. “Seeing my girl bringing a random to her section.” he scoffs lightly pushing himself off the dresser and begins unbuckling his belt walking towards the edge of the bed causing you to shift in your place. “Actually no what really did it for me was watching my girl playing with me.” he says looking up towards you while sliding the belt through the loops placing it into one of his hands leaning on the bed.

“No Yoongi I-i mean Daddy I-“ I started being cut off with the beckon of his fingers not wanting to make him wait I begin to crawl towards the end of the bed sitting on my knees in between his arms while one wields his belt face to face I wait for further instruction. My eyes bouncing back and forth up between his soft lips back to his eyes I begin squeezing my thighs tighter together. God I’m pathetic I practically just dug my own grave but I can’t get over how hot Yoongi is.

“No? You didn’t play with me?” he asked “You didn’t knowingly wear Daddy’s favorite dress to make me jealous? Oh or how about the part where Melody plays your song then you go off and dance with that guy.” he smiles letting go of the belt placing his hand on your thighs feeling the heat radiate off of him earns a shiver from you. “Come on baby you can’t tell me that’s just a mere coincidence.” he says standing up staring down towards you a smirk dancing on his face tilting his head.

“Seeing as how you got to have fun and play games I think it’s only right Daddy gets to play some of his own don’t you babygirl?” he asks walking over towards his bedside chair taking a seat with spread legs never once taking his eyes off of you. “Yes sir.” you say in a cracked barely audible whisper.

“Then come here and get that pretty little mouth around Daddy’s cock.” he says with so much authority it made you scramble to hurry with the task at hand getting up you meet him at the chair kneeling between his legs staring at the rising tent in his pants practically begging to be freed from its confined space. “What are you waiting for?” he stares into your eyes snapping you out of the daze you were in you reach up to unbutton his pants letting the zipper fall giving somewhat more freedom for his manhood placing your manicured hands inside the band of his underwear you pull it halfway down in order to free his cock as soon as you pulled them down it immediately slapped his stomach making your mouth water glancing up towards him not wanting to make him wait anymore you take him into your hand slowly pumping him earning a slight grown from above scooting closer placing your elbows on his legs you lick a long strip on the underside of his cock leaving a shine, pumping him again in your hands you then take him into your mouth sucking the tip circling your tongue around his head taking him further down into you mouth an utter groan comes from Yoongi causing you to squeeze your thighs together wanting to please him you decide to pick up the pace you start to bob you head faster taking him in with much more earnest while rotating your hands pumping him at the same time as more spit begins to develop you feel hands entangle their way into your hair guiding your head up and down Yoongi grabs your hands moving them off his manhood.

“Behind your back.” He states firmly slowly pulling your head off his cock with a slick pop sounding off the walls ``Yes sir” you say lips plump and red, he takes one hand from your hair gripping his cock placing it on your pouty lips smacking it a little harder than you anticipated “Open.” he says stroking his cock a few times you let your mouth fall open tongue folding over your plum lips placing his cock in its rightful place he begins slowly guiding your head up and down his shaft picking up speed spit begins to form dripping down the sides of his cock only to be caught again by your mouth he begins facefucking you with him hitting the back of your throat your eyes begin to water all throughout the room sounds of squelching and his groans can only be heard.

“Fucking hell” he slightly chuckles thrusting his hips up into your mouth hitting your throat not being able to fully slide in, you then swallow letting him gain the passage he’s been wanting. “Good fucking girl such a good slut for Daddy hmm?” he questions pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail clearing your hair out the way so he could get a perfect view of his cock between your lips. Pulling you off his cock bringing you into a deep frenzied kiss standing you up stumbling your way over to the bed Yoongi unbuttons his shirt quickly ripping it off pushing you down onto the bed grabbing your legs pulling you towards the end of the bed ripping up your dress just past your waist his eyes goes dark.

“God Damn Y/n where the fuck are your panties” his eyes shoot up towards yours filled with an unexplainable look. Trying to find words to say you’re silenced by fingers slowly trailing your slit causing a soft gasp from you.

“I-I didnt wear any..” you state softly lifting your hips slightly following Yoongis receding hand.

#yoongi smut #yoongi ambw #ambw bts #yoongi x reader #black reader #bts imagines #bts smut #bwam #bts yoongi #yoongi imagine #bts fanfic #bts suga #possesive

261 notes · View notes

yoontopia · 4 years

Text

coffee & cream | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f) reader

genre: friends with benefits au (like the movie mila kunis is sexy y’all), one (1) smut scene [in the form of oral (m) and (f) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids cmon), spanking, grinding], fluff, angst (but its a happy ending bc its me)

rating: M

word count: 14.3k

summary: Jungkook isn’t usually a risk taker-- in fact, he’s the safest guy in the room. But you’re about to change that

Jungkook adjusts his tie and looks out of the little airplane window. The seatbelt sign is blinking back on – it’s been a relatively exhausting flight from LA to New York and his legs are numb. He eyes the tall buildings of the metropolis below, squinting when he can see the Empire State building in his view. It isn’t his first time in Manhattan, having visited once with his family when he was a teenager. The sheer size of the place terrifies him a little though.

It’s not like Los Angeles isn’t a big city. LA is huge, in fact, and just as saturated as any big city is. But New York is a different topic altogether. Jungkook finds LA intimidating, he’s not sure where to even start with Manhattan.

He walks out into JFK, hoisting his duffle bag on one shoulder. It’s noisy, he notes, as soon as he’s walked out and into baggage claim. He only makes a small pitstop in the men’s bathroom to make sure his hair doesn’t look like birds have nested in it and emerges out, looking around. Someone’s supposed to be picking him up, and they should be here, amongst the throng of people holding up placards with names on them. He’s just pulling out his phone to double check if any emails about his pickup were sent while he was in flight, when a commotion by baggage claim catches his eye. Raising his eyebrows, he takes in the sight before him.

There’s you, hair coming out of your bun, clutching your stilettos close to your chest as you walk barefoot on the baggage belt wearing a crinkled skirt-suit. You’re looking for something, tip toeing around the suitcases, unaware of the stares you’re getting. You’re walking towards him, against the direction of the belt and he stares around him and sees a piece of paper with the name JEON JUNGKOOK written on it in bright red lipstick. He leans over to pick it up, and realizes you’ve made a grab for it as well.

“That’s me,” he says. You blink at him in confusion, before your face clears.

“Jeon Jungkook?” you affirm, and he nods, pointing to the piece of paper and then at himself. “Oh, thank god.” You introduce yourself and hold out your hand, which Jungkook promptly shakes. You’re still on the baggage belt, so he has to walk alongside you.

“You’re picking me up from the airport?”

“Yes!” your voice is hushed and out of breath. You smooth down your flyaway hair hastily.

“Do you… always pick people up like this?” He gestures at the baggage belt and you suddenly laugh, a high tinkling sound. Jumping off the belt, you stand in front of him.

“Uh yeah, you know, I like to keep things interesting,” you say, nodding your head like you mean business. “Welcome to New York, by the way. I feel like I should’ve brought a boombox with that Taylor Swift song blasting on it.”

“I mean there’s always next time, right?” Jungkook cracks a smile, shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit. “You know… you’re not exactly what comes to mind when one thinks ‘headhunter’.”

“Yeah, I prefer the term executive recruiter,” you say offhandedly. “‘Headhunter’ always makes me sound a little creepy.”

“Well,” Jungkook says, as he watches you put your heels back on. They add a significant amount to your height, and you stand in front of him expectantly. “You did stalk me for the past six months. That’s kind of creepy.” You laugh again at that and reach for his bag, which he pulls out of the way.

“Let me carry your bag, it’s my job!”

“You don’t look like you do this often,” he points out.

“Okay so maybe you’re my first recruit, sue me.” You’re pouting faintly, as the two of you walk out of the airport. The New York heat hits Jungkook all at once, and he sniffs the air curiously. “Nasty isn’t it? I love it” you grin.

“What is that?” he asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Sewage, rats, and the sweet smell of capitalism.” You’re waving down a yellow taxi. “Need me to play you that Taylor Swift song yet?” You hold the door open for him and he gets in and you pop in from the other side. Once you’re done giving the driver your destination, you sit back. “So.” You start. Jungkook raises your eyebrows at you. “You’re finally here!”

“Only took six months worth of emails to convince me,” he says, looking out the window as the cab crosses a bridge. Manhattan looms in front of him.

“It’s a huge opportunity,” you say, and he has to give you points for being earnest. “Art director for Vogue? This is the big leagues!” You’re turned in your seat to look over at him. “I mean, no offence to your little internet blog.”

“Which got seven million hits last month,” He points out, only a little offended. You roll your eyes.

“Have you been on TikTok lately, little kids are pulling those numbers.” You say, and he can’t deny it. “But I’ve seen your work firsthand, and you’re amazing at what you do. That’s why you’re here.” Jungkook sighs. The cab is in Manhattan now and he stares out the window once again.

“There must be a reason you’re here,” you continue quietly. “Even I was surprised you finally agreed to give the interview a shot.” Jungkook doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t know you enough to tell you the real reason he up and left his life in LA.

“A free trip to New York? C’mon I’d be an idiot to turn that down!” He says instead, making his tone as light as possible. “But New York’s so crowded. Look around! I’m from California okay? I prefer the coast.” You’re looking at him, and he has a feeling you can see right through him. Considering New York also has the ocean, even Jungkook knows that is the poorest excuse.

“C’mon, what’s really holding you back?” Your tone is serious. Jungkook shrugs.

“I don’t know. This is a ridiculously huge move. I’ve lived in one place my whole life. And I don’t want it to feel like I made the wrong move and got myself into something I can’t handle.”

“I’m telling you, your work is incredible,” you say again, and Jungkook feels the back of his neck go warm. He’s heard flattery before, but you’re a stranger and you sound so blatantly honest. “You’re fully capable of handling this. Look, we’ll get you some coffee before your interview, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Jungkook mumbles, lowering himself in his seat. You stare.

“What?! You heathen.” You’ve dropped all formalities with him, and Jungkook doesn’t know if that’s just New York, or you.

“It’s really hot,” he says as the cab pulls up to the destination.

“Doesn’t it get hot in LA?” you ask, paying the driver. Jungkook stands on the sidewalk and looks around. He can see the river from where he stands and smell the ocean. That thought comforts him a little.

“Yeah it gets hot in LA, but here it’s the heat, the pollution the humidity. In LA, thirty degrees feels like thirty degrees. Here thirty degrees feels like—the ninth circle of hell—”

“This conversation about the weather is really fascinating, believe me,” you cut him off. “But lucky for me, we’re here.” You point at the large building the two of you are standing outside of. “So, good luck.” Jungkook looks up at the skyscraper.

“Whatever happens, happens,” He says, shaking his head. “I told you, I don’t really want it.”

“I think you do,” you say, crossing your arms slightly. “Whatever it was that convinced you to finally fly out here is also convincing you to go for it. But regardless, just do me a favour? Act like you do want it so that I look good.”

“I guess I can do that,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay”, you say, flashing him another one of your blinding smiles. “Go get ‘em.”

It’s past three in the afternoon by the time Jungkook walks out of the building’s shiny revolving doors.

“Hey!” you’re running towards him, still wearing the same clothes from this morning. Your hair is down though, Jungkook notes.

“You’re still here,” he’s surprised, and partly impressed by your ethic.

“Yeah, well,” you say, sounding sheepish. “It’s my job. How did it go?” Jungkook allows himself a small grin.

“They bought it,” he says, giving you two thumbs up. “You’re safe for a little while longer.” You clap your hands excitedly.

“Well thank you,” you offer him a little curtsy that has him laughing. “I owe you one Jeon.” At that moment, his phone buzzes in his back pocket and he reaches for it, while you cross your arms and wait.

“Uh,” he says, reading the notification. “It’s from you.”

“It’s your offer,” you say, tilting your chin at his phone.

“Wait,” he says, confusion evident on his face. “I got the job?” You’re smiling now.

“They called about five minutes ago,” Your smile widens. “Congratulations! The offer expires at midnight.” Jungkook holds up his phone.

“Why didn’t you just tell me instead of texting me?”

“‘Cause it’s more dramatic,” you state, as if it’s obvious. Jungkook scoffs and looks away, towards the river, running a hand through his hair. You roll your eyes.

“Jungkook, you’re not gonna screw this up,” you say.

“It’s a huge move,” Jungkook argues. “Would you uproot your entire life for a job? Be honest.”

“Well, no. For a job, probably not. But for New York? Yeah, I would. Which is why I’m not gonna sell you on the job, I’m gonna sell you on New York.”

“It’s New York!” Jungkook says, exasperation leaking into his voice. “I’ve seen Iron Man, I know what it’s like!”

“Not the bullshit tourist version,” you say, looking at him, that slight pout back in your face.

“Puppy dog eyes? Really?” He questions, defeat evident in his voice. You laugh.

“C’mon,” You say grinning. “Let me buy you a drink.” You’re walking away from him and crossing the street when you realize Jungkook isn’t following. “What’re you waiting for?”

“For the light to turn so I can cross the street,” he says pointing at the red hand glaring across from him. You scoff and march back up to him.

“You Cali folk are so cute,” Linking your arm with his, you lead him onto the street. “C’mon it’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not,” Jungkook argues, watching a cab nearly run the two of you over, but you expertly dodge it. “See? I’m gonna die.” You lead him down Park Row, your arm warm against his and Jungkook finds himself at the Brooklyn bridge.

“What’re we—” he starts, but you ignore him, dragging him to the foot of Brooklyn Bridge. Cars are rushing past them, commuters going home after a day of work. Pedestrians are walking along the sidewalk, admiring East River below. You walk up to a small woman sitting on the side of the sidewalk in front of some mangoes.

“Maria!” you exclaim, followed by sentences in a language Jungkook barely recognizes as Spanish. The woman looks up in recognition and smiles at you. You fish through your wallet for a few dollar bills before handing them to her. You’re still speaking in Spanish as you point at Jungkook and then at yourself. The woman nods and begins to bag up the sliced mangoes.

“You’re feeding me mangoes off the street?” Jungkook whispers.

“What? I thought you LA folk were all about that organic, local bullshit,” you retort. You graciously take the bagged slices from the woman and wave at her before pulling Jungkook back in the direction of Manhattan.

“Do I at least get to eat them?” He asks.

“Not yet!” you reply cheerfully. You usher him into the Fulton Street Subway station, even let him use your Metro Card. Jungkook is too winded to ask any more questions as you practically push him onto a train. Two stops later, you’re getting off, Jungkook trying to keep up with you.

“Battery Park!” You wiggle your fingers. Jungkook stares around. “This is where you come if you wanna take those super expensive tours to the Statue of Liberty by the way,”

“Good to know,” he laughs. You walk him in the direction of the water but away from the ferries. It’s a promenade, he realizes. The two of you walk until you arrive at what he recognizes as a World War II memorial. You walk towards it and sit down on the slabs of concrete next to the steps, your feet dangling off as you stare at the ocean in front of you. You pat the space next to you and Jungkook throws the thoughts of getting his one good suit dirty and joins you. You promptly hand him the bag of mangoes.

“I thought we were going for a drink,” he jokes. You laugh as you pop open the bag. He stares down at his own. “What did that woman do to my mangoes?”

“She puts cayenne salt on them,” you say, popping a cube into your mouth. Jungkook raises his eyebrows and experimentally puts a piece in his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he says, voice coming out in a moan. “This is amazing”

“Right?” you laugh. “Maria is a culinary genius.” Your legs swing as the air gets cooler. The two of you watch the ferries in silence, but its comfortable. Jungkook breathes in the salty air.

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to clear my head, I come here to watch the sunsets,” you say. “The crowd dies down by then because the only tourists that come here are here for Liberty and the ferries stop around this time.” There is another minute of silence and then – “You know, Jungkook, I like you.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s why, I’ll give you your choice of closes.”

“What?” Jungkook is confused again, a state he finds he’s often in wherever you seem to be involved.

“How I close you on this job.”

“Oh.”

“So, we got the flattery close,” you start, and put on a sweet, simpering voice. “Jungkook, you are so good at what you do!” Jungkook is laughing, but you carry on. “The take-it-or-leave-it close – Man I don’t care if you take it, I get paid regardless!” Jungkook is trying to interrupt but you reel right on. “The sympathy close,” suddenly your voice is hitched, and you pretend to bat away unshed tears. “You see, my liver is failing—”

“Why do women think the only way to get a man to do what they want is to manipulate him?” Jungkook finally manages to interrupt your rant and his voice comes out harsher than he expected it to. You blink at him, a look of understanding flashing across your face and Jungkook clamps his mouth shut.

“History,” you reply, choosing not to pry, for which Jungkook is grateful. “Personal experiences. Romantic comedies.” You look out towards the ocean again. A sailing boat is crossing your line of sight as you speak. “C’mon, you’re here for a reason, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, biting into another slice of mango. “To explore an option. Who wouldn’t want to know their options?”

“Someone who’s in a perfect situation,” you counter.

“Are you in a perfect situation?” He throws your words right back at you.

“Job? Oh, absolutely.” You say. “Everything else? Well, that’s none of your business,” Jungkook chuckles, and you smile. The wind ruffles your hair as you lean back. You watch as he finishes the remainder of his mango. “Ready to go?”

“But we just got here!”

“Chop Chop my friend, New York waits for no one.” Jungkook groans, deciding that you’re just impossible to keep up with.

“Central Park? Really? I thought we weren’t doing the bullshit tourist stuff.” Jungkook is holding a cup of boba in his hand – rose black tea with lychee jelly. The two of you had picked some up on the way to the park. When you’d said drinks, this wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but he wasn’t complaining. You take a giant sip of your own milk tea with pearls.

“You do realize Central Park is huge, right? There are corners of this place tourists tend to not venture into.”

The two of you are near the upper end of the park. The city is more residential here, almost into South Harlem. You tell him it’s the North Meadow. You find small curving paths in the park and the two of you walk around. Jungkook has to admit, it doesn’t feel like he’s currently in the world’s noisiest city.

“Here’s the countryside and peace you were craving for,” you say cheekily, and he laughs. But the air smells cool and fresh, the smell of exhaust and the sound of cars only a faraway tune.

“Okay fine, this wasn’t on TV,” he admits, and you grin. The two of you manage to find a spot in a clearing on a slight hill next to a huge oak tree and make yourselves comfortable on the grass. You pop open the slices of cake you’d picked up at the boba place and dig a fork in them, motioning Jungkook to do the same.

“So, what’s your dad think about all this?” you ask casually and Jungkook stares at you in disbelief. “What? He must have an opinion! He’s famous – he was the brand marketing director for GQ for 23 years.” Jungkook is surprised, to say the least.

“Wow, somebody did their homework.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree. “I have this thing at work. It’s called, uh, Google.” You ignore Jungkook’s scoff. “C’mon, what did he say about the job?”

“Actually, I haven’t asked him.” Jungkook confesses. You don’t need to know that he hasn’t seen or spoken to his father for almost a decade now.

“Well, then, you must know what he’d say,” You counter, waiting patiently for Jungkook to answer.

“He’d tell me to go with my gut,” Jungkook says at last. “And that he’d be proud of me no matter what I did.” If you can sense the shift in his tone, you don’t call him out on it. He’s realizing that you’re more perceptive of your surroundings than he originally gave you credit for.

“Well, he sounds like a really great man.” Your voice is soft and Jungkook doesn’t need to look at you to hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, he is.” Jungkook says softly. He doesn’t know if its because you sense the tension, but you stuff the remainder of the cake in your mouth.

“Hey, do you wanna see something really cool?”

“I always want to see something really cool,” Jungkook says easily. He watches you as you lie down on the grass.

“C’mon!” you tell him, and at this point Jungkook knows better than to argue. His suit is ruined anyway. The two of you lie down side-by-side to look up at the sky.

“One of the only places in the city you can actually see a clear night sky,” you point out. “And you know the best part? Very poor cell reception.”

“You bring all your recruits here?”

“I told you, Jeon, you’re my first.”

“Wow.” Jungkook says. “Thanks.”

“But if you tell anyone about this, I will rip your ears off and staple them to your neck.” You continue, in the same, airy tone.

“I believe you,” Jungkook says in a small voice. You sit up next to him. Your hair is frazzled from lying down and your black pencil skirt has grass all over the behind, but you don’t seem to notice or care.

“Oh, it’s time,” you say, checking your watch.

“Time for what?” Jungkook asks, but he hears it as soon as the question leaves his mouth. Soft music reaches his ears from faraway.

“Those tourist spots always have live musicians in the evening.” You say, hugging your knees and resting your chin on them. “But I don’t like the crowds, so I come up here to listen. Nobody for miles – just you and the music.” Jungkook watches you, as your eyes shine, and you stare into the distance.

“Now this is pretty damn cool,” he says. You’re swaying to the music without realizing it and Jungkook watches you tap your foot along to the beat.

“It’s nice to feel like you’re a part of something, right?” you say. “New York can get a little lonely sometimes.”

“And you’re trying to sell me on it.” Jungkook jokes. You laugh, that high tinkling sound Jungkook has come to associate with you after today.

“Every place can be a bit lonely sometimes,” you correct yourself softly. Jungkook thinks the two of you might be more similar than he’d originally thought. He makes a split-second decision.

“I’m in.” he says.

“What?”

“You sold me.”

“Really?” Your eyes are still shining, but you’re looking at him now.

“I’ll take the job,” he laughs. You squeal, still swaying slightly to the music.

“Oh my god!” you grin. “You are so gonna crush it,” And in that moment, surrounded by nothing but the smell of strawberry cake, faraway guitars, and your windswept hair covered in grass, Jungkook really believes you might be right.

Jungkook finally feels like he’s finished moving into his new apartment. Despite being a twenty-something, he never realized that he didn’t actually own that much stuff, and moving states had taken less than a month. Jungkook had other, more pressing matters to worry about – like quitting his previous job, training his replacement, signing a new lease, and bidding farewell to his rather scary old landlady in LA. Jungkook couldn’t say he was very sorry to leave her.

His apartment in Upper West Side Manhattan is miles better than the cramped place he had called home for the past five years. Vogue really had gone all out fixing him up with a place. Jungkook’s favorite feature are the giant floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. He finds he can get used to this.

He was here now, on the first day at his new job, trying not to sweat through his cream dress shirt. His new team is unfamiliar to him and Jungkook isn’t an extrovert by nature, but he ignores his sweaty palms and tries to play nice.

“So, all I ask is that you give me a little bit of time to gain your trust,” he says, reciting the little speech he’d practiced on the flight a month ago. “I know that I’m new at this, but what I lack in experience, I make up for in cliches.” He gets a few scattered laughs out of that lame gag and sighs internally. “My door’s always open,” he adds. “Literally.” He gestures wildly to his office wall that’s made entirely out of glass, putting him on view to the rest of his team sitting in cubicles outside. “Thanks guys.”

There’s a scattered applause, a few shaken hands, and Jungkook smiles shyly. The crowd dissipates, leaving behind a man with curling blonde hair making his way toward him.

“Park Jimin, I work in marketing.” He introduces. Jungkook shakes his hand. He’s about to ask Park Jimin about his career when he sees you, wearing a navy dress and holding a stack of papers. Your hair is up again, this time in a no-nonsense ponytail.

“Oh, hey Jimin,” you say cheerfully and Jimin grins, exclaiming your name and giving you a hi-five. “Whatcha doing?”

“Sizing up the new guy,” Jimin stares at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. “You did good here. I could just eat him up.” Jungkook’s eyebrows disappear into the fringe of hair that falls over his forehead as he sees you trying to control your laughter. You pat Jimin on the butt with a fondness that isn’t missed by Jungkook.

“Go back to work Chim,” you say and Jimin shrugs and bounds off towards his office. Jungkook levels you with a look, eyebrows still raised, and you giggle. “You get used to him.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook says, picking up his iPad from his desk. “I have something to show you.”

“Show me?” You’re curious now as you walk into his office fully, still clutching your papers. He uses his tablet to switch the screen on the TV above his desk. It’s a small acoustic band, playing in Central Park.

“I tracked down the band that plays music in the North end of the park – the one we listened to that day that I decided to take this job,” Jungkook explains. “I’m thinking of using them somehow for my first project. I got in touch with the lead singer – we’re thinking of using them for guerilla advertising.”

“Taking something so pure and commercializing it?” You ask. “Knew I’d found the right guy.” Jungkook chuckles and watches you put down the stack of papers on his desk. ��Anyway, here’s your contract. Sign it, and I will be out of here.” Jungkook fingers the front page hesitantly.

“A whole year,” he says wonderingly. “Wow.”

“Why do I feel like this is the first real commitment you’ve ever made?” Your hands are on your waist as you level him with a judgemental look on your face.

“Its not,” Jungkook argues, mildly offended. “I worked my last full-time job for two years. And fuck – I do regret that one.” He holds up two fingers to drive the point home.

“Do me a favour,” you sigh. “Don’t quit or get fired before this year’s up, otherwise I don’t get my bonus.”

“Wait, I can leave whenever I want? Then what’s the point of the contract?”

“Just sign the damn thing!” You watch as he groans and scribbles his signature at the bottom. “Nice doing business with you Jeon Jungkook,” You shake his hand vigorously. Jungkook watches you collect all the papers.

“Hey, I was thinking of maybe getting some lunch. Do you know a place?” He asks, checking his phone for the time. You stare at him.

“Are you… asking me out?” Jungkook blinks. What?

“Whoa, no,” he amends. “I’m just asking you to show me a restaurant.”

“I mean, I’m the only friend you have in New York,” you ramble on. “You don’t wanna complicate that.”

“I know,” Jungkook starts. “I’m not asking you out.” You ignore him, Of course you do.

“I mean, sure, we’d have fun, roll around, get into some erotic humiliation fantasy—” You’re wringing your hands. Jungkook thinks if he wasn’t sweating while giving his speech before, he’s definitely sweating now.

“I—Erotic?”

“—But it’ll all blow up in our faces, end very badly, and we’d never speak to each other—”

“Can you slow down for a second—”

“It’s just not a good idea Jungkook—”

“I’m not fucking asking you out, I swear to god!” Jungkook almost shouts, and you shut up. He watches your eyes go wide, and you bite your lip as if to hold back a sob. He winces inwardly.

“Okay,” you say, your voice unusually small. “You don’t like me like that, I get it. You don’t have to be so mean about it,” Your voice is trembling now, and you look down at your feet. Jungkook sputters, taking a step towards you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t--,” but he realizes that your voice wasn’t trembling from hurt, it was just you trying to keep your laughter in. You look up at him now, mirth swimming in your eyes and he knows he’s been had.

“God, you’re such a girl,” you grin. “Come on sister, it’s my treat.” Jungkook watches you turn on your heel and march out and wonders if there will ever come a day when he’ll have you all figured out.

You bring him to a brunch place at the corner of the block. It’s got a long French name Jungkook struggles to pronounce but he orders a large smoked salmon avocado toast while the two of you sit at a small table by the window.

“So, was it an easy move?” you ask, chopping your broccoli into tiny pieces before eating it.

“It was tough leaving my mom,” Jungkook offers. “My brother gave me some shit. But, uh, the timing was right,” He nods, as if satisfied with that answer. You’re watching him, a small smile on your face.

“An ex?” you ask. Jungkook winces, remembering that you’re far more astute than you let on. “I kinda got the vibe.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers, mouth full of salmon. “She’s great! Wants us to stay friends!” You make a gagging sound. “She’s also convinced she can cure me of my emotional unavailability.”

“You’re emotionally unavailable?” You ask laughing, and Jungkook nods vigorously. “Oh my God, I’m emotionally damaged. My ex was so kind to point that out when he cheated on me. I haven’t seen you at the meetings.”

“I’m done with the relationship thing,” He sighs, giving you his leftover broccoli, which you accept graciously.

“Girl, you are preaching to the congregation,” you cheer, raising your hands in agreement.

“Choir.”

“What?”

“‘Preaching to the choir’. You’re supposed to preach to the congregation. That’s the expression.” Jungkook takes a long swig of his hot chocolate.

“Did you understand what I was saying? Then don’t be a dick about it,” you smart and Jungkook laughs. He finds he does that a lot in your presence. “Anyway, I’m having some friends over tomorrow. Why don’t you come? You can meet some new people too.”

“I’m gonna have to check my schedule,” Jungkook says solemnly, pulling out a wad of cash to pay for his meal. “I’m really busy. I work at Vogue now,” you’re giggling. “It’s not just some little blog on the internet.” Your laughter drowns out everything else and Jungkook finds he likes being the one making you laugh.

Jungkook triple-checks the address you’ve texted him before knocking on the door labelled 2A. He hopes he’s picked up a decent enough wine as a housewarming gift. He’d even made sure to get the best alcohol content-to-cost ratio from the grocery store down the street from your place! He hasn’t even entered your apartment and he’s already sweating through his cardigan.

The door opens and it’s you, and this is the first time Jungkook sees you out of your usual business attire. Your hair is down, and you’re sporting skinny jeans and a tank top.

“Hey!” you say breathlessly. “You made it! C’mon!” He hands you the wine, which you graciously accept. You drag him into your living room and address the rather large gathering.

“Hey—HEY everybody! This here is Jungkook, he’s from LA!” There’s absolute crickets at your proclamation, and you roll your eyes. “He’s the reason I can afford all this beer.” You state plainly. At that, there’s a universal cheer that goes around the room.

Jungkook is generally wary of large crowds. Multiple strangers staring at him always makes him uncomfortable, but for some reason he finds himself blending in with your friends. Granted, he spends most of the evening with you playing wii bowling, jenga, and drunk card games with you and Jimin and two other friends – Taehyung and Namjoon.

The days turn to months just like this and Jungkook finds that life in New York is almost refreshing. It turns out he and Jimin have a lot in common, and that Jimin flirts incessantly with literally everyone he meets, not just him. After your party on that fateful day, he’s hit it off with Taehyung and Namjoon too. Taehyung’s a freelance artist, and Namjoon works in the music industry. He hangs out with you often too and finds that the two of you have easily become good friends. You don’t actually work for Vogue, working for a registered recruitment agency instead, so he doesn’t see you that often. He decides though, that this is a good thing. You’re definitely the one person he knows best in this city and he doesn’t want that becoming overcomplicated with having to see you as a colleague instead of a friend.

It is on a Friday night Jungkook finds himself dissolving in your extremely comfortable couch, after one too many beers, watching what he thinks is the worst romance film in existence. You’re totally enraptured though, a firm grip on your own drink.

“I swear all these movies have terrible music,” Jungkook mutters as the soundtrack crescendos and the female lead runs into the male lead’s arms in slow motion, fake tears staining her face.

“It’s so you know how to feel every single second,” you answer. Your voice is croaky from unshed tears as the female lead jumps into the male lead’s arms and he spins her round and round. Despite your newly found distaste for relationships, Jungkook has learned that you’re secretly a sucker for romance. He watches you as you mouth along to the dialogue.

“God, I wish my life were a movie sometimes,” you murmur, as the ending credits roll. “I’d always look good, and never have to go to the bathroom.” You turn to him abruptly. “And then, when I’m at my lowest point, some guy would chase me down the street, pour his heart out, and we’d kiss. Happily ever after.”

Jungkook groans, lowering himself further in your couch, chin now resting on his chest. You ignore him.

“Why don’t they ever make a movie about what happens after the big confession?”

“They do,” Jungkook replies instantly, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s called porn.” You slap his chest, sitting back comfortably next to him.

“God, I miss sex,” you say, your words slightly slurring together. The alcohol in your system has erased your filters, not that you had many in the first place. “Right? I mean, sometimes, you just need it.”

“There can never be just sex,” Jungkook mutters. “There’s always complications involved.”

“Yeah but why? What’s wrong with uncomplicated sex?”

“It’s womens’ fault,” Jungkook says and you sit up, affronted.

“Excuse me?”

“‘Hold me, let’s spend the rest of our lives together’” Jungkook mocks, making you scoff.

“As if men are any better. You’re all eyeing our pussies right from that first date.”

“I wish it wasn’t like that, y’know,” he continues. “It’s a physical act – a sport – if you will – like…. Bowling. Two people should be able to have sex like they’re going bowling.”

“For some weird ass reason, that made sense to me,” you say lazily. Jungkook laughs.

“Right, it’s just a sport. Maybe you shake hands at the end, and then get on with your life.” You nod. A comfortable silence follows. You pat him on his chest, small hands warm.

“More beer?” You’re downing yours. Jungkook nods sleepily and watches as you bend over to pick up the empty bottles and empty bags of chips from your floor and traipse over to your small kitchenette. You’re dressed in a simple tank and booty shorts and Jungkook can’t deny that, in your dimly lit apartment, your legs look good. He calls your name, and you look over at him.

“Let’s go bowling,” he says, tapping his foot. You blink at him in confusion. “Let’s have sex like we’re going bowling.” He repeats. You have the audacity to laugh out loud.

“You’re insane,” you tell him, walking back to the living room with more beer and a bowl of popcorn. Jungkook scowls and pulls himself up to sit up on your couch.

“Don’t laugh at me! This could be great. This could take all the weirdness out of it. We both want the same things.”

“We’ve been over this,” you say, tossing some popcorn in your mouth. “I don’t like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either,” he points out evenly. “That’s why this is perfect.” You chuckle.

“I don’t even know if I find you attractive!” you respond.

“That’s cute,” Jungkook says, standing up and bringing himself to his full height. You roll your eyes.

“Well, I do have a thing for jerks,” you mutter, which has Jungkook scoffing. “Do you even find me attractive?”

“That’s cute.” He repeats. You wave your hands and stand up in front of him.

“No, no, no,” you say. “Before you got to know my awesome personality – strictly physical – first impression of me?”

“This is just two people talking right? Sharing notes?” Jungkook affirms and you nod. “I liked your eyes – you have nice eyes.” He sighs. You’re looking at him, arms crossed.

“I liked your lips,” you offer. “Thought you might be a good kisser.”

“I am,” Jungkook admits solemnly, and you snort. “Your breasts,” he adds, tilting his chin towards your chest. You look down at it.

“What about them?”

“They intrigue me.”

“Aw, really?” you seem incredibly flattered. You give your breasts a congratulatory pat. “That’s a first – no ones ever called by boobs intriguing before. I liked your hands by the way. I’ve always got a thing for tattoos.” He watches you eye the ink on the back of his right hand, your gaze traveling up his arm where the tattoos disappear into the sleeves of his shirt.

“Mouth.” Jungkook responds quickly.

“Thighs.” You counter.

“Voice.”

“Butt.”

“Eyes.”

“You said that already,” you’re smiling now.

“I meant it,” Jungkook responds honestly. You’re looking at him now, eyes narrowed.

“You swear you don’t want anything from me other than sex?” You ask.

“You swear you don’t want anything from me other than sex?” he counters. “I know how you girls get.”

“Don’t be a pig.”

“A pig who’s got a cute butt.” He wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes.

“No relationship,” you state. Jungkook nods. “No emotions. Just sex.”

“Whatever happens,” he adds. “We stay friends.” You nod back at him. The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

“Swear?” you ask.

“Swear,” he states evenly. “So…. I guess we should just start?” You laugh nervously.

“Okay then, let’s go to my bedroom.”

“Wait – what’s wrong with the couch?” Jungkok gestures wildly at your sofa, which he has to admit, is stupid comfortable. “It’s less emotional.”

“The bedroom has better light,” you point out. “And since we’re just friends, I don’t have to be insecure about my body.” Jungkook blinks at you, doe eyes wide.

“Aw, cmon,” he says. “You’re beautiful. You have nothing to be insecure about!” You fix him with a glare.

“That’s way too emotionally supportive. You need to lock that down.” You jab his chest with a pointed finger.

“Uh… your ass is way too bony?” he tries, watching your behind as you saunter towards your bedroom.

“Much better!” comes your reply, and he grins. Following you into your room, he watches with slight amazement as you tug off your top. “My nipples are sensitive,” you tell him conversationally. “I don’t really care for dirty talk, and had I known this was gonna happen, I’d have shaved my legs this morning.” You stand before him topless and he shrugs.

“I enjoy dirty talk, I sneeze sometimes when I come, and the socks stay on during sex. It’s a weird feet thing, nothing you need to be worried about.” He’s pulled off his shirt and tossed it on top of yours.

“Wait, feet gross me out too, look at that,” You grin. “Meant to be.” You tug your booty shorts off and stand in front of him wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. He whistles and you roll your eyes.

“Can you please be a little less fuckboy about this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Girl, look what we about to do right now, and tell me this isn’t peak fuckboy behaviour,” he berates. You can’t argue.

“Fine, whatever, be a fratboy, but will you just start my tits are freezing—” But Jungkook doesn’t let you finish your sentence for he takes two strides towards you, cupping your face with his hands and smashing his lips down on yours. You make a muffled sound of surprise, but he ignores you, tilting his face to deepen the kiss. It takes you only a split second to reciprocate, and your hands travel up his sides to rest on his shoulders as you open up and let him explore your mouth.

Jungkook pushes you backwards without breaking the kiss until you’re falling on your bed. You scoot back until your back hits the headboard and you watch him as he stares at you, eyes dark and hair tousled. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook crawls over on all fours towards you. Giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, his tattooed hand travels down your neck, grazes over your shoulder, the underside of your breast, stomach and finally arriving to rest on your thigh. You watch him expectantly, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and he refuses to break eye contact with you s he tightens his grip on your thigh to yank you down so you’re lying down underneath him.

His lips latch onto your neck and you let out a whine that has blood rushing to his cock. He sucks a bruise right over your pulse before his hand comes up to lower the strap of your bra. Pulling the garment down, he lowers himself to press kisses and suck on your breast, before moving to the other side to repeat with the other one.

“Hurry up,” you murmur from under him, thighs rubbing against each other. Jungkook chuckles, and nibbles slightly on your nipple, drawing a whimper from you.

“Patience, princess. Good things come to those who wait,” his hand reaches down, and he strokes a single finger over your clothed core, and you shudder. “So wet already and I’ve barely done anything,” he notes, mouth still closed around your breast. Letting go with a slight plop, he looks at you hungrily. “Let me eat you out.”

You raise your eyebrows but do not object, and Jungkook moves down, pressing kisses to your navel, until he arrives between your thighs. Using both hands to spread your thighs apart, his gaze moves from you to your core. He buries his nose in your pussy without warning.

“You smell fucking amazing,” he tells you and your face heats up instantly, your arms coming up to cover your face in embarrassment.

“I told you, I don’t like dirty talk,” you say, your voice coming out in gasps. Jungkook smiles over your pussy, mouthing it over your underwear.

“Too bad,” he mutters against you, and your toes curl from the vibrations his voice causes through you. “I’m gonna tell you exactly what I want to do to you whether you like it or not.” Hooking a finger through your underwear, he moves it to the side. He licks a stripe up your folds, before burying his nose back into your pussy, tongue lapping at your juices. You’re writhing under him and he places his hands on your thighs to steady you. You’re gasping for air, little moans leaving your pretty pink lips.

Jungkook feels your hand tangle in his hair as he sloppily eats you out. You’re dripping on his tongue and he, in turn, is practically salivating at the taste of you. Your hand tightens its grip on his hair, and he feels you grind down on his tongue.

“O-oh my god,” you gasp. “Jungkook.” He pulls away from you and looks up at you. Your juices cover his lips and chin and you’re looking down at him, eyes blown out, hair in disarray.

“Yeah? You like that?” he groans out, and you nod desperately. “Like it when I fuck you with my tongue?”

“P-please,” you whisper, and he grins.

“Tell me what you want baby,” Your ears turn red at that and you look away. He climbs up to hover over your face and lowers his lips onto yours. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, its sloppy and wet and he knows you taste yourself on him. Its an exchange of spit mixed with your essence and when Jungkook pulls away, a string of saliva connects the two of you. He watches as it snaps and dribbles down the corner of your lips. You’re panting now. “Tell me.”

“Your fingers,” you mutter, clearly embarrassed. Jungkook’s smile widens.

“My fingers where?”

“C’mon Jeon, don’t be a dick.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” Jungkook answers noncommittally, pulling away to sit back on your bed. You moan and your hand covers his wrist in an attempt to stop him. He grins.

“Your fingers inside me.” You answer, face as red as a strawberry. Jungkook’s grin widens and he leans back down to place a small kiss on the corner of your lips. His hand travels back down to between your thighs and he strokes your folds with his index finger.

Without warning, he shoves two fingers in you, and you moan, small hands curling around his biceps, nails digging into his skin. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and your hand tangles in his hair again. It’s quiet except for your gasps and moans and the sound of his fingers steadily pumping in and out of your pussy. He can feel that you’re near your high, so he carelessly shoves a third finger inside you, increasing his speed. Before you know it, you’re chasing your high, coming all around his fingers with a loud squelching sound and a gasp.

“Like music to my ears,” Jungkook hums, nudging his nose against your jaw. Your hands caress his chest, sides before one travels down to palm the tent in his jeans. Jungkook gasps, biting down on your shoulder. Boldened by his reaction, you twist your hips, so your knee rubs against his crotch and Jungkook freezes. You take this opportunity to flip him over, so you’re settled on top of him, your hair spilling around you. Jungkook lies back on your pillow, bringing his fingers that were just in you up to your mouth. You run your tongue along them, and he shoves them deep in your throat before pulling them out and spreading the mixture of saliva and your wetness across your face.

Your hands spread across his chest as you grind down on him and he groans.

“My turn,” you whisper, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Your hips are swirling over his crotch as your mouth moves from his lips to kiss his jaw, neck and then moving down to swirl your tongue over a perk nipple. You’ve undone his pants and he takes no time pushing them down. You palm him over his boxers before pulling them down too and letting his dick spring free. You suck in a breath, tongue hungrily swiping out to wet your lips.

You waste no time to take him in your mouth. Unlike Jungkook, you’re not a teaser and Jungkook throws his head back and groans as your lips wrap around his length. Your head bobs up and down between his legs and Jungkook closes his eyes and loses himself to the feeling. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping it tightly until his hips are out of control and he’s fucking up into your mouth. You let him, slackening your jaw, tongue lying flat against the underside of his dick. Jungkook gets high off of the sound of you gagging on his cock, spit dripping down him and onto your bedsheets. He’s so fucking close he’s seeing stars.

It takes all his self control to sit up and signal you to stop. You look at him, lips swollen and wet, a mixture of precum and saliva messily splayed across your face.

“No more,” he rasps, pulling you close and flipping you over so he’s on top again. “Need to be inside you right now. Condom?” You breathe out that you’re on the pill before smiling coyly up at him. Jungkook is painfully hard and wastes no time to slip inside of you. You let out your loudest moan yet, and he waits for you to get accustomed to his length in you.

“You can move,” you tell him, voice hoarse. Jungkook nods and pulls out only to slam right back in you with a groan. The first few strokes are long and languid until you’re pinching his nipple and motioning him to take you harder.

“I’m not a fucking porcelain doll,” you ground out. “Fuck me like you mean it Jeon.” Jungkook grits his teeth and pulls out of you completely. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he flips you over like a ragdoll so you’re lying on your stomach.

“Fine,” he grunts. “You’re such a brat.” You shiver at his tone and he’s gripping your ass to prop it up, pushing your face with one hand so you’re buried face down in your pillow.

Without warning he shoves himself back in you, one hand on your hip, the other still pushing your face into your mattress. He sets an unforgiving pace, ramming into you without pause until your muffled screams could be heard in your pillow.

“How’s that?” he grinds out, planting a smack on your ass as you moan. “That hard enough for you?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to scream. He shoves two fingers into your mouth, spanking your ass between thrusts until you’re smarting and red. Your garble moans around his fingers, drool lacing your pillow until he’s twisting his hand back in your hair and pulling you up flush against him. Grabbing one of your breasts he bites down on your shoulder.

“Fuck you feel so good around my cock,” he whispers in your ear and you shiver. Your ass is sore, but Jungkook shows no mercy, stroking it with his right hand and continuing to smack it. His hand moves around to rub over your clit and you almost fall over at the stimulation but his other hand clutching your breast keeps you upright. “You’re gonna cum now sweetheart? Milk my cock for all its worth?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook please,” you’re almost sobbing

“Come on baby, you can do it,” he croons, and you look over your shoulder at him and he wastes no time in closing the distance and planting his lips on yours. Without warning you’re coming, and that too all over Jungkook’s hand, dripping down your thighs and onto the bed. He’s not far behind, your convulsing pussy driving him over the edge before he’s releasing his load in you. You collapse on all fours in front of him as he pulls out.

“Damn,” he says, bringing his hand up to show you. “So, you’re a squirter, huh?”

“What?” your ears turn red as you look back at him. “Oh, my fucking god.” You watch as Jungkook licks his fingers clean without hesitation before collapsing on the bed next to you.

“Don’t tell me that was your first time squirting,” he grins. You look away in embarrassment, and he props himself up on his elbow, head resting on his hand. “Wow I’m just that good.”

“You’re such an ass,” you mutter. Jungkook cackles in delight.

You and Jungkook fall into a routine after that. There are multiple trysts, mostly at one of your apartments after work, a few in the bathroom of restaurants while you’re out with your friends, and one (1) time at work when you arrived for your weekly lunch date wearing the tiniest skirt Jungkook had ever fucking seen.

Sex with you is easy. Being friends with you is also easy. Jungkook can’t believe how simple you make his life. You’re a good friend, always willing to listen. He tells you things about his life back in LA, his ex and how thankful he was that he was finally out of a five-year relationship. You talk about your family, your sisters, your childhood. There are still lines the two of you don’t cross. Jungkook knows your last relationship left you scarred, but you never mention it and Jungkook never mentions his father. Some things are better left unsaid.

It isn’t until one day when you’ve dragged Jungkook out to Macy’s on the hunt for a new outfit you need to go meet a potential new recruit, that he manages to find the missing puzzle piece.

He’s sat through you trying out at least fifteen different shirts, all of which look the same to him, but you insist they’re not. It’s after you’ve finally picked out a dress shirt, some trousers and a new pair of “killin” shoes that the two of you collapse in a café across from the department store, your bags surrounding you.

“God, nothing feels better than a day full of shopping for shit,” you say, taking a huge sip out of your (soy) cappuccino. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I’ll show you exactly what’s better tonight” he mutters and its your turn to roll your eyes.

“Can you please keep it in your pants for a minute,” you groan. “I’m actually nervous about recruiting this guy.”

“Please,” Jungkook huffs. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re a natural!”

“Really?” You’re raising your eyebrows. “After the shit show you had to put up with?”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook pretends to be offended. “I’m here, aren’t I? You won me over.”

“Barely. For fucks sake you arrived to see me on the fucking baggage belt.” you huff, placing your head down on the table. Jungkook watches you, a twinge of sympathy running through him.

“Look, you are good at what you do. I don’t think I’m an easy person to convince, if I do say so myself,” he says, voice gentler. You look up at him slowly, figure still hunched. “Maybe you’re a little unorthodox but hey! We need someone like that. Just be yourself, you’re gonna be fine.”

“You think so?” you’re pouting, and Jungkook’s heart melts a little.

“100%”

You’re smiling faintly at him when the two of you hear your name being called. You freeze and look past Jungkook, a glassy look overtaking your eyes.

“It is you!” the voice comes closer and Jungkook turns around to look at what is possibly the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. He’s tall, hair pushed back in a neat part, wearing a three-piece suit. In front of him, Jungkook feels like a giant toddler in his sweatpants and colorful hoodie and messy hair.

“Seokjin.” Your voice is hushed and oddly quiet, something Jungkook has never seen before. He eyes the two of you curiously.

“How have you been?” The man – Seokjin – asks. “It’s been forever.”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “It really has.” It’s awkward for a minute until Seokjin’s eyes land on Jungkook. His eyes travel to the cups of coffee in front of the two of you, and something flits across his expression.

“I’m sorry, are you two--,” he starts, and you’re rushing to correct him, but for some reason, Jungkook’s body moves on instinct.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says, getting up and offering a hand.

“Seokjin,” the man answers, taking it and shaking it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you.” There’s another beat of silence and then a girl is running toward you, calling Seokjin’s name. Seokjin freezes as the girl catches up to him, laying a hand on his shoulder to catch her breath. Jungkook feels you freeze up even more, if possible.

“Hi!” she says brightly, looking from Jungkook to you. “Friends of yours Jinnie?” she addresses the taller man. Jungkook doesn’t fail to notice that she’s just as beautiful as Seokjin. Pretty people really do stick together. You stand up abruptly behind Jungkook and he feels you clutch at the back of his hoodie, out of Seokjin’s gaze. Seokjin clears his throat.

“U-uhm, this is Joohyun,” he offers. “My fiancée.” At this point you’re tugging wildly at the back of Jungkook’s hoodie and he isn’t stupid. He gets the hint.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, plastering on his best fake-charming smile. Joohyun seems to buy it because she grins back. “But we really are in a rush. Places to be! Nice meeting you guys!” and he turns around without another word, grabs your hand in one of his and picks up your bags in a single fluid motion with his other. Then he’s pulling you out of there, away from the café, away from Seokjin and out into the busy street.

You walk behind him wordlessly, hand still clasped in his and he drags you up a few blocks until you’re at Bryant Park. The two of you find a bench and collapse in it, slightly out of breath.

“Thanks,” you whisper, after a while.

“No problem.” Jungkook replies.

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Should I ask?” He turns to look at you. You chuckle weakly and lean back to stare up at the tall trees.

“My ex-boyfriend,” you say. “Obviously.” Jungkook had figured that but he nods along anyway. “He—uhm—cheated on me,” you continue and Jungkook suddenly feels white-hot rage curling inside him. You’d mentioned it before on the first day of his new job, at brunch, but it hadn’t registered until now. “With the girl we just met.”

“What the actual fuck.” He mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“He’s the reason why I can’t--,” you start, then stop. You take a deep breath before continuing. “Why I can’t get myself to enter into another relationship.” Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that but it doesn’t seem like you care. Now that you’re talking, the floodgates are open.

“We’d been together since college. I imagined we’d be endgame y’know? Everyone always told me how lucky I was to bag a man so attractive and smart and I felt lucky. Jin was always the best, the most caring, the most loving. We had some really great times together. But then… I don’t know… college ended and careers happened and I struggled to find a job straight out of university, while Seokjin comes from a long line of rich businessmen and he was already working for his dad’s company by graduation. We drifted after that. A part of me resented his privilege, I was envious of what he had. I took it out on him, and I guess he-he—”

“That does not give him the right to cheat on you.” Jungkook stops you. “I get being unhappy in relationships, I really do, but in no way is that the correct response.” Your eyes are glassy and full of unshed tears.

“She’s like him, y’know,” you continue, sniffing. “Beautiful, successful, I heard she owns a clothing line. Seeing them together it made me realize that I was the anomaly.”

“Don’t.” Jungkook says. “Don’t put yourself down. Look at you!” He gestures at you and you look up. “You’re smart, cute, successful. He’s trash for not recognizing that.”

“No, what I am is broken,” you give him a small, watery smile. “I haven’t been able to let anyone in since Seokjin and I broke almost a year ago.” Jungkook sighs and shuffles closer to you. Sniffling, you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for today Kook,” you murmur against him. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there.”

Jungkook sighs and leans over to kiss the top of your head lightly. The two of you sit there, amongst the chirping birds and trees, leaning on each other. Jungkook squeezes your hand and tries not to think of the unfamiliar feeling curling inside his stomach.

Things change after that. Jungkook finds that the two of you are almost domestic with each other. You stay over more often, and he finds you in his kitchen in the mornings, flipping pancakes wearing nothing but his button down. It’s so normal that Jungkook often has to take a step back and remember that the two of you are just friends. Seasons change from autumn into winter and a sheet of snow covers Manhattan.

“My sister’s in town,” Jungkook tells you one morning, offhandedly.

“Older or younger?” You’re making pancakes in his kitchen and you set down a plate of them in front of him before returning to make yourself some. Jungkook shakes the can of whipped cream next to him before squirting himself some.

“Older,” he grins. “She lives in LA with Dad and she’s in New York for business.” It’s the first time Jungkook has mentioned his father in front of you since the day the two of you met. You don’t prod. “My parents are separated,” he offers.

“I figured,” you shrug, sitting down across from him and refusing the can of whipped cream when he offers it. “Do you hate him or something?”

“What? No!” Jungkook laughs. “We just aren’t close that’s all. Everyone expects me to be this prodigy because of my Dad’s reputation, but I barely know the guy. Anyway, my sister wants to meet you.”

“Me?” You’re surprised.

“Yeah she wants to see who it was that convinced me to leave LA.”

“Oh, so that’s my reputation in the Jeon household now is it?” Jungkook gives you a cheeky grin. “How nerve-wracking—you sure you want me meeting your family? Makes us sound more than we are.”

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook argues, ignoring the faint twinge of disappointment somewhere deep within himself. “She’s only in town for three days. Come get some brunch with us tomorrow.”

“Fine. But you need to do something for me in return,” Your mouth is full of pancake and your hair is mussed but Jungkook smiles endearingly. “I have this… thing I got invited to tonight and I need you to be my date.”

“Are you sure? It makes us sound more than we are,” Jungkook throws your words back at you and you kick his shin under the table.

“Shut up, it’s my childhood friend’s Christmas party and our families are close so I have to go but I don’t have a plus-one and I need you there to keep me sane. Seokjin’s gonna be there.”

“You’re asking if I want to go with you,” he starts slowly. “To a Christmas party. As your date.”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug. “We go, drink at the open bar until we can’t see straight and then come home and you pound me into your tempur-pedic.”

“You’re disgusting,” he grins. “But, okay, I’m in--what the hell.”

“Do you have a tux?”

“Girl look who you speaking to,” he gestures at himself, sitting up straight and throwing his chest out. “Of fucking course, I have a tux.”

Wow, Jungkook thinks to himself that evening as you stand in your door in front of him. Long olive-green silk hugging every curve of your body, you grin up at him. You’d tamed your hair by pinning one side up, clutch in one hand, and feet in black pumps.

“Well?” you grin. Jungkook whistles, shoving his hands in his plain black tuxedo.

“Yeah well, you clean up nice too Jeon,” you pat him cheerfully on his chest, causing a warm feeling to flutter through him. “Let’s go do this thing.” You straighten his tie, and Jungkook swallows. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened, but over the course of time you really have him wrapped around your little finger.

The two of you uber down, your warm body next to his as you tell him some inconsequential story about your high school prom.

“We didn’t have prom at my school,” he tells you and you gape at him. “We had sports day though.”

“That is so sad.”

“Not really,” Jungkook shrugs. “Social gatherings are terrifying.”

“Never would’ve pegged you as the socially anxious type Jeon.”

“Well I am,” Jungkook rests his elbow on the car door, his chin in his hand to look outside. “I can’t believe I’m going to this rich people thing with you.”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!” you send twin finger guns his way and he smiles wantonly.

“No seriously,” he says, looking at you, chin still balanced on his hand. “Thank you. You always manage to take the edge off and make things less intimidating and make me feel like I can step out of my comfort zone.” You blink at him, grin fading at his sincerity.

“What’re friends for, right?” you say, your voice quiet.

“Right,” he says back, just as quiet.

“You know,” you ramble on. “When I first saw you, you did totally strike me as a stereotypical fratboy. I was a little scared.”

“Of me?” Jungkook points at himself, surprised. You lean back in your seat and rest your head back.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “You reminded me of the guys I went to high school with. The jerks that ranked the girls by how fuckable they were and shoved kids into lockers and giggled at you as you tried to present your history project to the class.”

“Why didn’t you just beat them up?” Jungkook isn’t offended by your generalization. He knows what you mean. “The you I know would’ve stabbed someone’s eye out with a pencil.”

“I was different when I was sixteen,” you smile. “But you’re right, now I’m not beyond stabbing someone’s eyes out with a pencil. Anyway, I’m sorry for judging you.”

“It happens,” Jungkook shrugs but you shake your head vigorously.

“No, you’re sweet,” you continue. “I’m so happy we met. And that we’re friends now.”

“I’m glad too,” Jungkook grins, punching you lightly on your shoulder. “Are you sure you can do this? I saw how you were when you saw Seokjin that day.” You bite your lip and look out the window.

“I’ll be fine,” you say slowly. “I have you.” Jungkook blinks and gulps.

“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you—” he starts but the uber is arriving at the venue and you’re getting ready to step out of the car. Jungkook stares at the ceiling before getting himself out. Checking in your coats at the entrance, the two of you enter together.

You were right, Jungkook notes. This isn’t just some Christmas party. Lights sparkle down at him and the massive Christmas tree in front of him is decorated to the nines. The bar is sparkling with decorations, and the tables are decorated with fancy centerpieces and champagne flutes. People wearing black tie are mingling, men in tuxedos, women in floor length gowns.

“God,” you whisper next to him.

“You didn’t tell me you were also Richie Rich rich,” Jungkook whispers back and you jab him in the side with your elbow. “Oh my god you’re a trust fund baby! You’re Gossip Girl!”

“Oh my god shut up,” you’re giggling. “I’m the family’s black sheep, fortunately for you. I refused to major in what my parents wanted me to major in and that was apparently the final straw. I’m surprised Yoongi even bothered to invite me – we haven’t spoken in months. There he is now.”

A man shorter than Jungkook is making his way towards them. He’s got effortlessly tousled black hair and his ears are adorned with many earrings. His eyes flit lazily towards Jungkook before landing on you and he’s pulling you into a hug.

“Yoongi!” you say grinning, returning his embrace and he smiles, changing his entire demeanour. “How are you, this is amazing!”

“Thought I’d do something to get the old gang together,” he shrugs. “I’m happy you came.”

“This is Jungkook, we—uhm—worked together.”

“Ah one of her recruits huh?” Yoongi is shaking Jungkook’s hand. “Min Yoongi, pleasure to meet you. Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook is sure his palms are sweating again. He picks up a flute of champagne from a waiter passing by and takes a huge gulp. You and Yoongi exchange pleasantries for a little while longer and then he leaves the two of you to greet some other guests that are just arriving.

“Wanna go to the bar?” You’re pulling him in the direction of the alcohol before he can say yes. You wave down the bartender and order your drink and turn to Jungkook. “You okay?”

“Why? Is it obvious I’m freaking out?”

“You country bumpkins are so cute,” You pinch his cheek. “What were you trying to tell me in the cab?” Jungkook looks sideways at you, but sees who’s approaching and clears his throat.

Seokjin looks even better than Jungkook remembered, in a well-tailored suit, holding a glass of wine. You turn and freeze momentarily.

“Jin! Hey,” your voice is steady and Jungkook is almost proud of you.

“I’m glad you made it,” Seokjin mirrors Yoongi’s words from earlier. “You didn’t last year.”

“Yeah, well,” you say sheepishly. “There were just some people I couldn’t face last year.”

Ouch, Jungkook thinks, on Seokjin’s behalf. If Seokjin hears the slight bite in your tone, he pretends not to notice.

“You’re Jungkook, right?” Seokjin’s addressing Jungkook now. “From the mall.”

“Yeah, good to see you again man,” Jungkook smiles and the smile Seokjin gives him in return is incredibly genuine. Your hand is snaking down and gripping Jungkook’s, and he gives you a squeeze, something that doesn’t escape Seokjin.

“Are you two together?” he asks conversationally, and Jungkook is about to vehemently deny the question, when you squeeze his hand back.

“We are,” you answer, much to Jungkook’s shock. He almost chokes on the last of his champagne before he puts the empty glass down on the bar. “We met at work.” He’s trying to calm himself down, trying to stop that warm feeling bursting through him again. You talk to Seokjin for a few more minutes before he’s leaving the two of you to your own devices again.

“So, you beat me to what I wanted to tell you in the cab earlier,” Jungkook grins. You look up at him and he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “That I like you,”

“W-what’re you talking about?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Jungkook leans in and nudges his nose against the column of your throat.

“I meant what I said,” he mumbles, pressing kisses under your jaw. “I’m asking you out. Officially.”

“We’re in public,” you’re hissing, firm grip on his wandering hands. Jungkook grins and leans back against the bar, shoving both hands into the pockets of his trousers. “And you don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do,” he schools his expression into one of sincerity. “You’re awesome, I love spending time with you. We have a lot of fun. Am I wrong?”

“You’re just being reckless—”

“Believe me, I am a lot of things, and reckless isn’t one of them.” Jungkook frowns. “Do you not feel the same way? I just assumed—”

“No, no,” your eyes are wide, panicked. “I like you too Jungkook, of course I do.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” You’re looking at him, eyes wide and he watches your gaze flit past him over his shoulder. Raising his eyebrows, he turns his head over his shoulder to see what you’re staring at. His mouth forms a straight line when he realizes its not a what, but a who.

“Seokjin,” he says, the bitterness leaking into his voice. “You’re still in love with him. Of course, why didn’t I see it before.”

“No! Jungkook, that’s not—”

“So, bringing me here as your date, what you said just now to Seokjin – what was that? A ploy to make him jealous? Hoping he’d run back to you? What, you didn’t wanna show up alone in front of him, so I was your safe fallback?” Jungkook is seeing white, his fists clenched, embarrassment and humiliation washing through him. “I’m just a distraction to you.” Your bottom lip is trembling now and you’re vigorously shaking your head, but Jungkook feels so empty and suddenly finds he doesn’t care. “I’m done. I don’t need to set myself up to get hurt by coming in between whatever this is you have going on with that guy.” He’s pulling his tie loose.

“No, don’t leave,” you’re begging, small hands grasping his arm in a last-ditch attempt. Jungkook sighs, untangling himself from your hold. “Please, Jungkook, hear me out—”

“I hear you loud and clear,” he says, a sad smile breaking out onto his face. Pulling off his tie he undoes the first two buttons on his shirt, trying to breathe. Clenching his fist, he’s walking past you before stopping to turn and take one last look at you. “We’re still friends okay? I just need some time. And for the record, telling you this as a friend, you’ll never be free for as long as you’re seeking Seokjin’s—or anyone’s – validation.”

And then he’s walking out of there, away from you, from a life that never really belonged to him. All he wants to do is to get out of this stifling suit throw on his sweatpants, drown himself in an obscene amount of chocolate and play Overwatch all night.

“Slow down, you’re gonna throw up those eggs if you don’t slow down,” Jungkook’s sister chastises from across the table. “Jesus, you and Junghyun are both such fast eaters because you don’t chew. You’re gonna die early.”

“I’d like to die now,” Jungkook answers, his mouth full of medium-poached eggs and hollandaise.

“So, you got rejected, what’s the big deal?” She asks. “You’re a grown man. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move the fuck on.”

“Easy for you to say Miss-I’m-engaged-to-the-love-of-my-life” Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound bitter. “How am I even going to face her after all this. I’m an idiot.”

“You really are,” his sister responds, elbow resting on the table and chin balanced on that elbow. “You always like to think you’re this cool, collected, distant guy when in reality you’re a giant softie that believes in soulmates.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah,” she grins. “You do,” She sighs. “Look Jungkook, that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s endearing, and there’s nothing wrong with giving yourself completely to someone. Just make sure whoever you’re giving yourself to is worth it.”

“You don’t think she’s worth it?” Jungkook asks glumly.

“She’s confused, it seems. And that is never a good thing, not in relationships.”

“So, what do I do? I’m still gonna see her at work occasionally.”

“Don’t do anything. The ball’s in her court. You’ve bared yourself to her already and she can either accept that or reject it. And eventually, it’ll get easier to be around her. You might even go back to being friends. And try to move on, will you?”

“With whom?”

“I have someone at work I can introduce you to,” she hums. “If you’re willing.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook mutters. “How’s dad?” His sister stares at him, expression suddenly serious.

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s also why I’m here to see you.” She says quietly

Jungkook is avoiding you. You may not be the most intelligent person in any room, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. He hasn’t replied to any of your texts, dutifully turning his read receipts off so you don’t even know if he’s seen your messages. Whenever you drop by his work for one of your meetings, his office is always closed. You suspect Park Jimin has something to do with Jungkook knowing exactly when you’ll be by the company. When you corner Jimin about this though, he’s tight-lipped, always regarding you with a slightly judgemental stare. It’s clear where his alliance lies.

You could always drop by his place, but even you admit that’s bordering on being pushy. He did say he needed space but its almost been a month and you haven’t as much as seen his coconut head. The New Year passes just like that and you celebrate by finishing two entire bottles of wine by yourself and watching Love Actually for the twenty-seventh time. Yoongi invites you to his New Years’ party too but you decline, not wanting a reminder of what went down at his last bash. You also want nothing to do with Seokjin.

At first you were angry over what Jungkook had said to you before he’d left that party. But soon after, once you’d calmed down, you’d realized he was right. Seokjin was never going to look at you and it was foolish to wait around while he carried on with his life. You deserved better, and Jungkook had taught you that. The realization was oddly freeing.

More than anything, you miss your friend. The coffee dates, the weekly brunches, someone to watch cheesy movies with. And, you admit shamefully, you also mis his dick. Jungkook had been right, you should’ve given the two of you a chance.

It isn’t until a cold morning in February, a whole two and a half months after the entire fiasco, that you finally see Jungkook. He’s standing outside the building, winter coat on and a burgundy scarf around his neck. He looks out of character, dressed like a businessman instead of the usual college-boy sweatpants and baggy t-shirts that you’re used to seeing him in. His hair is longer than it was when you saw him last, curling slightly at the ends. It suits him. He’s chatting happily with Namjoon about something, waving his hands around descriptively, matching cups of coffees in their hands.

You hesitate to get out of your uber, but you’re late for your nine am. There’s no way to avoid him, with the two of them standing right in front of the entrance. You step out of the cab hesitatingly and Jungkook sees you right away. If he’s nervous about running into you, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his face softens into a small smile and he gives a small wave in greeting. You return his greeting shyly.

“Oh, hey,” Namjoon greets, as you approach the two of them slowly. “Got a meeting today?”

“Yeah,” you reply, eyes travelling from Jungkook to Namjoon. “I’m late.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it then,” there’s nothing sly in Namjoon’s tone, but the guy is like, insanely intelligent and you don’t doubt his intentions. “Gotta see Yoongi about this newest track I’ve been working on.”

Jungkook bids Namjoon goodbye before the two of you are making your way inside.

“How have you been?” you’re the first to break the silence. Jungkook takes a sip of his drink.

“Good,” he answers. “I finally beat Breath of the Wild.”

“Took you long enough,” you tease, and he chuckles. You follow him into the elevator and watch as he presses your floor for you, along with his. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I,” he clears his throat. “I went to LA to see my dad,” You whip your head to look at him. “He wasn’t well so I worked remotely for a month or so.” So, he was never actually avoiding you, he wasn’t even in the city! You feel oddly relieved.

“How is he?”

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. You can’t help but notice that his animated self from earlier is gone, replaced by someone more somber. “I spent Christmas there.” The elevator doors open at your floor and you step out.

“Listen Jungkook,” you say quickly turning around. He pauses, pressing the button to keep the doors open, and looks at you questioningly. “I’m sorry – for everything.”

“Don’t apologize for your feelings,” that small smile is back.

“No! I mean – I’d really like it if we can be friends again,” you’re panicking. “I’ve missed you.” He grins at that, reminding you of the Jungkook you’d been intimate with.

“I’ve missed you too,” he answers, and something in your chest lifts. “Of course, we’re still friends.”

“Okay—wanna get brunch with me this week? The usual place.”

“I’ll text you.” Is all he says before he lets the doors close, leaving you standing there, slightly breathless.

You spend the rest of your day with a bounce in your step.

Things return to normal after that – somewhat. You and Jungkook start hanging out again, but you can tell something is off. He’s cheerful as always, but he’s holding back. It’s obvious that whatever he offered you that day at Yoongi’s party is no longer on the table. He’s guarded, confides in you less, heart locked away in a place you can’t even begin to reach.

But he’s here, in your life, tangible and real, and you tell yourself that this is enough. Until one day, when it all comes crashing down.

You’re at his place, and he’s retreated back into the kitchen to get the two of you more beers. His phone lights up, vibrating on the coffee table in front of you. It’s not that you mean to pry, but your eyes unconsciously travel to the notification that’s blaring on his screen.

1 New Message Jieun: Hey! We still on for tomorrow night, right? Gonna wear that dress you like 😉

You swallow. Of course, he’s seeing someone. Everything makes sense – the reason he was able to have you back in his life was because he’d moved on and rightfully so. The two of you aren’t teenagers – you are adults, and he is well within his rights to find someone else when you’d so obviously rejected him. You wonder, why then, your chest aches.

Jungkook reappears, holding two bottles of beer in each hand. Placing them on the coffee table next to his phone, he offers you one, which you accept, plastering a grin on your face. He grabs one himself, picking up his phone and collapsing on the couch next to you to turn his attention back to the movie that the two of you had been watching. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he checks his messages, eyes lighting up, a smile on his face as he types up a response.

You spend the rest of the night holding in tears.

You invite Taehyung to yours the next day as a distraction. He insists on watching some documentary about gothic architecture, but you don’t mind. Whatever takes your mind off Jungkook. And what he might be doing right now.

“You know, you are insane,” Taehyung comments offhandedly.

“Excuse me?”

“The both of you,” he continues, lounging on your couch a little too comfortably. “Insanity.” You continue to stare at him, and he sighs. “You and Jeon.”

“What about Jungkook?”

“He’s in love with you,” Taehyung answers plainly, as though he’s telling you today’s weather forecast. Your stomach drops. “And you like him too, but are too dumb to admit it.” You scoff.

“He has a date tonight. That hardly screams ‘in love with me’” You point out. It’s Taehyung’s turn to scoff.

“Please,” he chuckles, arms coming up to rest behind his head. He sits like your dad. “It’s only his third date with that girl. It’s nothing serious.”

“And he’s not in love with me.”

“He is,” Taehyung insists. “Told me so himself. I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s none of my damn business but the two of you are so atrociously stupid—”

“He…told you?” you pause the documentary.

“Yes. Last week,” Taehyung is talking as though he hasn’t dropped the biggest bombshell on you. “But he’s putting himself out there because he thinks you don’t feel the same way. Frankly, I’m tired.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper. Taehyung checks his watch.

“Because, you still have time. Time to go get him.” You laugh.

“He’s not even gonna be back yet,” you point out. “Plus, what if I go there and he’s having her over? Third dates basically mean sex.”

“He’s not gonna sleep with her.” Taehyung tells you.

“Oh, and I assume he told you that too—”

“He did.”

“What sort of conversation were the two of you even having?” You’re incredibly confused

“A deep one,” Taehyung’s monotone voice is starting to irk you. “I took him out for tea. He’s home right now – by the way.”

“Why do you know so much Kim Taehyung?”

“It’s because I’m always minding my own, and vibing,” he informs you. “Go get your man, for fucks sake.” You’re already running around grabbing your keys and coat.

“Thanks Tae,” you mutter, giving the sleepy boy a kiss on the cheek. He smiles, leaning further back into your couch and turns his documentary back on as you rush out of your apartment.

There aren’t any ubers around your place at this time on a Friday night and you’re stuck taking the subway to Jungkook’s. Tapping your foot impatiently on the 4,5 line you rush out as soon as the train doors open, running to the building you know he lives in.

Your mind is blank as you stand outside his place and ring the doorbell. The faint music coming from the inside stops and you barely have time to second guess your choices before the door is opening and Jungkook is standing in front of you. Dressed in a crinkled dress shirt and black slacks, it looks like he got home not too long ago. He looks at you in surprise. Before he can open his mouth and ask why you’re standing on his doorstep wearing your sweatpants under your winter jacket looking haggard, you step forward, crushing your lips onto his.

His response isn’t immediate, you’ve caught him by surprise. But slowly he melts into the kiss, arms coming up to rest on your waist. You grasp wildly at the shirt on his shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?” he’s whispering, shutting the door behind you as you push him further into his apartment. “Know that I want more?”

“More sure than of anything else I’ve been in my life,” you whisper back, pulling away. “And whatever you want, I want it too. I want you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

“How did you know that I still wanted this?” he asks, before his face clears of the confusion and he’s grinning like he knows exactly how.

“We’re really gonna have to send Taehyung an expensive bottle of wine soon,” you grin back. “But first, I need you out of these pants.”

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years

Text

𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕤.𝕔𝕠𝕞

_________________________

ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ!ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) PLEASE make one where the avengers or one of them finds out that Peter and Y / N (Rogers, Stark, Barnes whatever) have Onlyfans together, I can't get it out of my head, love you xx

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none unless onlyfans is a warning lol also bi!peter? ;)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: this is so funny! I just had to write it right away (Ps i know nothing about OnlyFans and how you get money or what the posts are like so just bare with me lol also i know bella thorne fucked the money system with them so pretend that didn’t happen)

___________________________

“Hey Tony, I think you should check this out,” Steve walked in the lab looking like a terrified little boy.

Steve handed him the phone and on it was a six second clip of you and Peter giggling. The catch is Peter's has a raging boner poking through his hardly there boxers and the excuse piece of lace that one would call lingerie also left little to nothing to the imagination for you.

You were walking slowly to Peter who sat on the bed. You slowly dropped to your knees and Tony's eyes practically bulged out of his face. Right before you pulled his boxers down the video stopped. Tony dropped the phone staying still as a statue. Complete and utter shock was the only thing to describe his expression.

“What the hell is this?” he said slowly, but terrifyingly.

“It’s uh, it’s Y/n and Peter-”

“Parker! L/n!” Tony screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Thank god, we put that preview on Twitter and not on Instagram. We’ve gotten like a thousand new subscribers since,” you giggled laying on your stomach on the bed.

“I told you it was gonna work,” Peter came up to and kissed the top of your head.

“Can we go shopping later today? There’s a lot of people asking if we can do like a red and blue lingerie shoot together-”

“Parker! L/n!” Tony’s muffled screams interrupted you.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know.”

You and Peter walked downstairs and walked into the lab where Tony stood glaring daggers at you two once you showed up. Nat followed behind you as did Bucky, Sam, and Wanda confused by Tony’s sudden anger especially towards you two. You two were his pride and joy of the team. Like his adoptive children, well you’re not exactly children anymore.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked.

“Why are you screaming?” Nat followed up sitting on one of the tables.

“What the hell is this?” Tony handed you two the phone.

“Oh, that’s our OnlyFans promo,” you said casually.

“You’re what?”

“OnlyFans,” Peter said.

“What the hell is OnlyFans?” Tony said, still visibly upset.

“Well, people subscribe to whatever account they see fit for profit I guess and you get to see whatever we post on our page. We do a lot of shoots and ads on there and on Instagram sometimes but if you pay us more money you can unlock more photos and videos of us. We posted that so we can get more subs,” you explained.

“I still don’t get why you two were- Argh!” Tony couldn’t even say it, he was so in shock.

“Yeah, it’s really true when they say sex sells,” you laughed making the others laugh too. Unbeknownst to Tony and Steve, the rest of the team already knew about your OnlyFans. They all subscribed but everybody expected Nat don’t pay further considering they work with you and watching you two fondling each other wasn’t particularly desirable. Nat didn’t give a shit though and bought everything, she’s even shot you guys.

“It’s not like this is particularly a secret. They posted about starting one like four months ago on Insta,” Nat pulled up the post about your announcement.

“Four months! And you all knew about this?” Tony looked to everyone and they all sheepishly nodded.

“We thought you knew,” Wanda said.

“I didn’t know!”

“I can’t believe you two are doing porn,” Tony pinched his nose.

“It’s all consensual and none of our stuff is being trafficked or sold illegally. Everything goes through us and we’ve made tons of money,” you told him.

“How much?” Steve asked curiously.

“Uh, maybe about six hundred thousand this week?” Peter shrugged.

“What!” Everyone shouted simultaneously.

“Yeah, that post really got people all hot and bothered. Also the pic of me sucking-”

“Stop!”

“I was gonna say lollipop,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh the one with the baby pink two piece and skirt?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Oh, I liked that one,” Bucky said.

“The donut,” Sam laughed as did everyone else and Steve and Tony stood there completely clueless because they hadn’t seen the picture.

“I can’t,” Tony sighed dramatically.

“Tones, I get that you’re worried about them but they’re fine. They’re one of the highest paid accounts on the website.”

“They’re kids,” Tony whined.

“Uh, I’m twenty one,” you snickered.

“And I’m twenty three,” Peter said after.

“I don’t care!” Tony cried.

“Where can I subscribe?” Steve whispered to Bucky not so quietly making you and Peter laugh.

“Steve!”

“What?”

“Ugh! Go! I don’t want to hear about this anymore. Promise me you guys are being safe?” Tony asked sincerely.

“We promise,” you both crossed your hearts.

“Alright, get out!”

Everyone scurried out and Steve’s eyes stayed glued to his phone. You looked at Peter who scrunched his face and pouted but nodded his head with a lazy thin smile.

“Hey Steve, if you’re ever up for it, I’m sure a lot of people would love to see a bit of Captain America’s little soldier. Or big soldier from what I can see through those sweats,” you winked, before scurrying away with Peter who grinned cheekily at him.

“Fuck.”

====================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

#peter parker #peter parker smut #aged!up peter parker #onlyfans!peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader

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ming-yu-hao · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 4

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cheating obviously, some angst and fluff, public teasing, unprotected sex (oops), light degradation/impact play/begging, use of restraints, brief face sitting, shit just goes down in general just wait

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: hey... how y’all doing... yeah I disappeared... but I’m back! The past two months were a mess but I’m ready to come back now and I’m v excited. Pls accept this chapter as a token of my forgiveness </3 Feedback is appreciated as always :) AND THANK U FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!!! :D

Chapters: Previous | Next | Masterlist

The ride home was quiet.

Jisoo had drank a little too much, and it was evident by the way she laid her head upon your shoulder and mumbled slurred gibberish against your skin.

You opted to ignore her drunken antics, and instead just wrapped your arm around her shoulder while training your eyes on the darkness outside the front window.

Only when Jisoo trudged over to her bed after taking off her makeup and changing her clothes did she seem to have sobered up. She sprawled across her mattress, her face pressed into the blankets, before she turned and gazed at you. You were laying on your own bed, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you stared up at the ceiling.

Finally, Jisoo spoke a coherent sentence.

"Where did you go?" She asked. "At the party," she added a moment later.

You hesitated for a second.

"Wonwoo called me so I went to the bathroom. And then we fought because he was pissed that I went to a party without telling him." You explained. It wasn't a lie; that was what happened, before Mingyu showed up of course.

Jisoo sat up quickly in her bed, crossing her legs like a child listening intently to a teacher. She placed a hand under her chin and narrowed her eyes at you.

"You fought..." She started but trailed off. "Is that why you went off with Mingyu?" She questioned.

You stopped toying with the fabric of your shirt, completely frozen in place at the accusation.

"What?" You responded, your mouth suddenly dry. You sat up in your own bed now, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Come on, I'm not stupid." Jisoo rolled her eyes. "I saw you and Mingyu going upstairs. And then a minute later some guy comes in screaming about how he found Mingyu and some girl fucking in the bathroom. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."

You were horrified. It felt as if a hard punch had been delivered to your gut and a million wasps stung your skin at once. You could barely catch your breath.

"Wha- Does everyone know?" You cried, not even attempting to cover up that you had sex with Mingyu; Jisoo had already figured it out, and there was no way you could ever convince her otherwise.

Jisoo shook her head. "No, I only knew cause I saw you with him. And I didn't say anything to anyone." She reassured you.

You didn't say anything else. Hell, you couldn't even think of anything to say. You threw yourself back against the bed, covering your face with your hands. Embarrassment ate away at you.

Jisoo watched you in your distressed state, and she almost felt inclined to apologize. She shook away the thought and asked: "What are you gonna do?"

You peeled your hands off your face and sighed. You felt like crying again. You hated it; you were so sick of crying.

"What am I supposed to do?" You responded. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."

Jisoo chewed on her bottom lip as she thought for a moment. "Well... do you still wanna be with Wonwoo?"

"Yes," you said quickly. "I still love him. And I miss him a lot. But I just... things have been really bad lately."

Jisoo finally laid back down, mimicking you by staring at the ceiling. "You're gonna have to talk things out with him then. Be honest. Stop seeing Mingyu." She sighed. "That's what I would do."

You knew that Jisoo was right. But the thought of cutting off Mingyu left a sour taste in your mouth. You liked him a lot, as a person, and it felt unfair to just ditch him after the times he was there to comfort you.

But this was all so much more unfair to Wonwoo.

"Are you sure... that you wanna stay with Wonwoo?" Jisoo added in response to your silence.

Were you sure?

You said that you loved him: You loved the Wonwoo that took you to the cafe near campus and bought you your favorite latte; the Wonwoo that spent hours in bed with you binge-watching dumb cartoons; the Wonwoo that stayed up late with you on weekends to help you study for your exams.

He was still that same person. Things were just different now that you were far apart and couldn't be in each other's presence anymore.

Right?

Would the Wonwoo from a year ago have ignored your texts and angrily hung up on you?

How could this all possibly be to blame on some distance?

Jisoo took your silence as an answer and cleared her throat to regain your attention. She shifted onto her side to look at you, and you turned your head to meet her eyes.

"Look, I don't think you're a bad person, okay? I think you just made some mistakes." She said. "I know you care a lot about him, but long distance doesn't work for everyone."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop them from watering.

"Just think about it, okay? I don't want you or other people getting hurt." Jisoo said. She rolled onto her other side, her back now facing you. "Goodnight. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight," you finally responded. Your voice was hoarse and weak.

You swallowed, and then reached for your phone.

You: that guy from the bathroom told everyone about you Sent at 12:48 AM

To your surprise, Mingyu responded quickly.

Mingyu: oh I know Sent at 12:48 AM

Mingyu: don't worry I already put him in his place Sent at 12:48 AM

You giggled quietly to yourself as you typed a response.

You: should I be scared for him? Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: nah he'll live Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: goodnight Y/N Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: sweet dreams :) Sent at 12:50 AM

Just as you finished typing a reply, quiet vibrating sounded from Jisoo's side of the room.

She stirred in her light state of sleep, feeling around her bed and eventually pulling her phone out from under her pillow. "Hello?" She said, hints of tiredness evident in her voice.

You wondered who could possibly be calling her right now. You guessed it was Seungcheol, but once Jisoo shot up in her bed alarmingly fast you began to doubt yourself.

"What?" She cried. "Is he okay?"

You sat up yourself now, watching her with concern as she turned on the light and began rummaging through her closet.

"I'm leaving right now. No, I'll be fine. I'll text you." She said as she pulled a backpack out and began wildly shoving items into it.

"What? Where are you going? What's going on?" You questioned once she hung up.

"My dad's in the hospital. Had a stroke or a heart attack or something, I don't know." Jisoo rambled without looking at you. She ran over to the bathroom with her bag in hand. "I'm going home for a few days." She explained from the other room.

When she walked back into the room, her backpack was slung over her shoulders and her eyes were shiny with tears.

"I hope he's okay. Please be safe." You responded, though it just made you feel useless.

"Thank you," she said, looking at you with saddened eyes before turning towards the door. "I'll see you soon." She called over her shoulder before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

Then you were left alone, with nothing but the dark room and the thoughts that weighed on your conscience.

You found it difficult to fall asleep that night.

When you walked into class on Tuesday, Mingyu looked different.

His hair was pushed back in his signature style and he wore his usual plain shirt and jeans, but something about him was changed. His chest seemed to be lifted with a newfound confidence.

He gave you a small smile when you approached him, and you swore you noticed his eyes graze over your figure, but you sat down without saying anything. You adjusted your skirt as you settled into your seat and pulled out your phone.

You anxiously checked your notifications, waiting for Wonwoo's name to appear, but there was still no answer.

You finally had sent him a text this morning saying that you needed to talk to him. You had spent the past few days thinking about what Jisoo said, and it was difficult to admit, but she was right.

Now it was just a waiting game until Wonwoo was ready to talk.

A notification caused your phone to buzz, and you perked up as you thought it might be Wonwoo, but instead it was a text from Mingyu.

You glanced over at him with your brows furrowed, and he just stared ahead, biting his lip to suppress a smirk. You opened the message.

Mingyu: you look good Sent at 10:05 AM

Your skin flushed at the compliment, and you quickly typed a reply.

You: you couldn't have said that to me in person? Sent at 10:06 AM

His own phone vibrated against the desk with your response. He picked it up nonchalantly, huffing out a quiet laugh.

Mingyu: well the reason I didn't say it out loud Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: is cause I also wanted to say that I keep thinking about last weekend Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: when your thighs were shaking Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: seeing you in that skirt reminded me of it Sent at 10:07 AM

You impulsively pressed your thighs together, your eyes widening and your lips flattening into a line as each message showed up on your screen.

You: you really think this is the time and place to be saying that? Sent at 10:07 AM

You: calm down you're acting like a douchey frat boy Sent at 10:07 AM

You smiled to yourself at your teasing reply, and you heard Mingyu quietly chuckle.

Mingyu: wowwwww Sent at 10:07 AM

Mingyu: don't act like you don't like it Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: I see you rubbing your thighs together over there Sent at 10:08 AM

You felt your face burn up as you realized he could see the effect he had on you. You didn't respond, letting him continue on.

Mingyu: I know you're a bad girl Y/N Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: you liked it when I spanked you Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: bet you'd like it if I touched you here right now Sent at 10:09 AM

You clicked your phone off quickly, setting it down against the desk. Your face was red, and you cleared your throat, trying to focus as the professor finally entered the room.

You kept your gaze locked on the front of the room, but you could still see Mingyu shifting closer to you out of the corner of your eye.

Just as the professor began talking, fingers brushed against your thigh and began toying with the hem of your skirt. You swallowed thickly, cursing yourself for the growing arousal between your legs.

Mingyu turned his head slightly towards you. "Don't react," he whispered. He turned his attention back to the front of the room, but his hand remained on your thigh, now softly squeezing the flesh between his fingers.

You inhaled a shaky breath, nervously glancing around the room. Luckily, you and Mingyu sat at the edge of the back row; the only other people in your row sat further down and to the left of Mingyu. His body and the desk most likely concealed everything that he was doing to you, but you were still fearful of getting caught.

His hand trailed upwards, slipping underneath your skirt. His fingers pressed into your inner thigh and you bit your lip. He stared forward, his face blank, as if nothing was happening.

His hand brushed against your core, and you inhaled sharply. The corner of his lip quirked up at the sound. Then he pressed his fingers against your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

Your thighs squeezed shut around his hand instinctively, and Mingyu tsked quietly before pushing your legs apart again. He began rubbing slow circles through the fabric, your arousal soaking through. Your stomach was twisting into a tighter knot with each moment that passed.

Then Mingyu suddenly slipped his fingers beneath your underwear, pressing into your bare folds. You gasped quietly and quickly grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Stop," you muttered, your voice full of alarm. Mingyu pulled his hand away, and you clenched as you were left with nothing, but you let out a relieved sigh. You were panting quietly, and he glanced at you with worry in his eyes as he wiped his hand on his pants.

You pulled out your phone and quickly texted him.

You: we can't do that here Sent at 10:14 AM

Mingyu: I'm sorry Sent at 10:14 AM

You glanced at him, and he looked back at you. You nodded as if to say "it's okay" and chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated sending your next message.

You: come over tonight Sent at 10:15 AM

Mingyu's tongue darted out to lick his lips and he turned his head towards you. His lips were upturned into a smirk as he gave you an affirming nod.

Time seemed to crawl during the rest of your classes for the day; you were anticipating Wonwoo's response and running over in your mind what you were planning on doing with Mingyu later.

As evening approached, a large hole formed in the pit in your stomach. Wonwoo still had yet to respond, which left a bitter taste in your mouth; you guessed he still wasn't done giving you the silent treatment.

You almost texted Mingyu a few times to tell him not to come over, but each time, you thought about his hand slipping beneath your skirt in class and erased your message.

You were only okay with this because Jisoo was still gone, but also, the thought of inviting a guy over to have sex while your roommate was visiting her dad in the hospital made you feel guilty. And gross. When did you become so desperate for some dick?

It was around 10 PM now, and you were pacing around your room while waiting for Mingyu to show up. You had changed out of your skirt, now wearing shorts and a crewneck instead.

A knock at the door startled you, and then your stomach dropped. You were really doing this again. You twisted the knob with hands that trembled softly and opened the door.

Mingyu stood on the other side, and you quickly observed his appearance as he stepped into the room. He also had changed his clothes from earlier. Now he was wearing sweatpants and a zip-up over a t-shirt that hugged his chest nicely. His hair was a bit messier, too.

"Hi," you exhaled.

Mingyu stood tall over you, making you feel small and nervous. You fidgeted with your hands as you stared up at him.

"Hey," he replied, licking his lips as he scanned your face.

You hesitated. "Um... do you wanna watch a movie or something?" Internally, you cursed yourself for being so stiff and awkward. But Mingyu's lips turned up into a small smirk and he agreed.

A moment later, his body laid next to yours on the bed while you picked out some random movie on Netflix. Once it started, the rapid beating of your heart didn't allow you to pay attention to the laptop screen; it was so intense you were afraid that Mingyu could feel it.

You were also hyperaware of the sensation of his body lying next to yours. The warmth of his body radiated onto you and the soft fabric of his clothing felt like a blanket against your bare skin.

"Are you even paying attention?" He asked suddenly, causing you jump slightly.

You cleared your throat. "Y-yeah."

"You seem so tense," he teased. He placed his hand on your thigh and lightly squeezed. You inhaled shakily, keeping your eyes on the screen. "Is something on your mind?"

"No," you gulped.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N." He said with a hushed voice into your ear. "I know what you invited me here for."

His face was so close that his nose was brushing against the side of your face while he spoke. Your stomach was in a tight knot now, and somehow your heart was beating even faster than before.

"You were so wet when I was touching you today." He continued to tease, lightly biting your ear. The hand that rested on your thigh moved up, his fingers brushing against your clit. "I knew you'd like that. You're dirty, aren't you?"

He pressed his fingers to your clit through your shorts as he asked the question. You whined softly, your hips jerking up at the stimulation. Finally, you turned your head towards him, pressing your lips to his in a rough kiss.

Mingyu bit at your bottom lip while he kissed you, and then pulled away after a moment to glance at the laptop that was still playing the movie. "You're not watching this, right?" He joked before shutting it and placing it on the floor.

He hovered over you now, his body caged between your legs, and went back to kissing you, this time with his tongue slipping past your lips. You moaned against his mouth softly as he pressed his warm body against yours.

He pulled away for a moment, making eye contact with you as he asked: "You sure you wanna do this?" He ran his hand down your side reassuringly as he awaited your reply. "We don't have to." He added before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

The sudden shift in his demeanor left you stunned for a moment; you quickly nodded before you could hesitate. "Yes, Mingyu." The hands that rested on the back of his neck pulled him closer to you, connecting your lips once again.

His hands began to tug the bottom of your shirt up, and the feeling of his fingers brushing against your stomach left small goosebumps across your skin.

Soon, clothes were discarded about the room, leaving you in only your bra and underwear and Mingyu in his sweats. His bare chest pressed against yours as he sucked and nibbled on the skin of your neck. You let out a soft moan, not even caring about the bruises that would later appear.

Mingyu lifted his face from your neck suddenly, mumbling against your cheek with a small smile on his face: "Can I try something with you?"

You stared at him, eyes wide with curiosity, and he grinned. His eyes seemed to flash with something that resembled insecurity before he finally admitted: "I wanna tie your hands."

You felt a gush of arousal between your legs at the thought—the thought of being teased with the inability to touch his skin. You nodded in approval. The corner of his lip twitched up at your receptiveness, and he glanced over his shoulder before grabbing one of your belts off the floor.

He secured it around your wrists before pushing them above your head, and just as he was about to continue leaving kisses across your body, you spoke. "Mingyu?"

His eyes widened as they rapidly scanned your face for signs of discomfort. "Do you not like it? Should I take it off?"

You snickered at how worried he was before asking: "Can you make it tighter?"

Relief flooded over Mingyu, and then he chuckled softly in disbelief. "Anything for you, sweets," he joked while adjusting the restraints around your wrists. You laughed, and the previous anxiety left your body.

Your wrists were bound tighter now, giving Mingyu full control, and his hands squeezed your waist as he placed a kiss on your chest. "I can't believe you," he said. "Acting so innocent when you're really a little whore for me."

His vulgar words shocked you, but you couldn't deny the other effects they had. You whined quietly, desperately raising your hips to meet his. Mingyu pushed your hips back down against the bed, and then one of his hands reached up to grope your chest.

He left wet kisses and bites across your body as he made his way from your neck to your hips, discarding the last of your clothing and leaving you bare beneath him. His jaw dropped a bit as he pulled your underwear down your legs, revealing the arousal that had built up. "So fucking wet," he observed in awe.

He began to kiss and suck on the skin of your inner thighs, avoiding the place where you needed him most. You wanted to reach down and tug at his hair, but the belt around your wrists prevented the action.

You groaned as you tried pushing your body closer to Mingyu's. "Please, Gyu." You begged. Mingyu glanced up at you from between your thighs with a smirk plastered on his face once he saw how desperate you looked.

"Is this what you want?" He asked as he dragged his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. He rubbed your clit in tight circles and your legs twitched in response.

"More," you said in between moans. You were already sweating and red in the face out of desperation; you could feel your hair sticking to your forehead.

Mingyu stopped his movements, but his hand remained pressed to your clit, and it throbbed beneath his touch. "What else do you want?" He teased. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could clearly imagine the cocky, satisfied expression on his face right now. "Tell me," he pleaded.

He suddenly resumed his ministrations, this time at a faster pace, which made your stomach twist. You cried out, unable to form any words. "Come on, Y/N. Use your words."

He brought his hand down to your pussy in a rough slap. The sensation caused your entire body to jolt and you let out a whimper in surprise. Mingyu buried his face in your neck before whispering into your ear: "Beg for it."

Finally, you caved, and you arched your back as you moaned, "Please, Gyu. Please fuck me."

A devilish yet satisfied grin settled across his face as he pulled away from you. "Good girl." He quickly said as his hands found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. You glanced down, seeing the way his cock strained against the fabric. You wanted to reach out and feel him, but all you could do was lie there helplessly as he undressed himself. He lowered his pants further down his hips until he suddenly stopped.

"Do you have condoms?" He questioned, his lips pursing in thought.

You shook your head. "No. Why would I have them?" Realization slowly began to dawn on you. "You didn't for-"

"Fuck," Mingyu groaned while running his palms over his face. "I forgot."

Disappointment settled over you, but the lust you were feeling for him remained. You ran over various thoughts in your mind as you observed his conflicted expression.

Mingyu's arms dropped to his sides. "It's okay," he reassured. "We can do something else." He looked up at you, his previous lust-filled expression returning as he caressed your thighs. "Have you ever sat on anyone's face before?" He suggested.

The thought enticed you—the image of Mingyu between your thighs always made your stomach twist—but ultimately you knew you needed to feel him inside you.

"Just fuck me anyways." You blurted out. Mingyu's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"What?" He cried.

"I'm on the pill," you quickly explained. "You can just... pull out or whatever." Heat rushed to your cheeks; you had become so desperate for him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Deep down, you knew it was a terrible idea, but you were being controlled by lust—the same lust and desire that made you tell him you wanted to kiss him a few nights ago.

Mingyu's lips were still parted in shock as he scanned your face. "Really?" He didn't see a single hint of hesitation on your visage.

"If that's what you want..." he trailed off. You saw a look of desire return to his eyes as he observed your bare body. Finally, he pushed his pants down his hips and leaned over you again.

His forearms rested on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth once again.

He reached down and grabbed hold of his hardened cock, guiding it through the folds of your pussy. Your jaw hung open and a deep moan escaped your throat at the pleasure. "You're gonna be the death of me, I swear." Mingyu mumbled into your ear in response to your moans.

He coated himself in your arousal as he continued to rub his cock against you, his tip nudging your clit and teasing you with the smallest bit of relief. He buried his face in your neck as he finally pushed himself into you.

A loud moan fell from his lips at the feeling. This was so much different from last time. It felt warm and soft and bare. Every sensation felt amplified; the stimulation was so intense.

"Holy shit," you gasped. You felt it too.

Mingyu's hips stuttered as he bottomed out inside you. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned. His words mixed with his hot breath against your throat made your entire body burn up. Mingyu slowly pulled himself out of you, and your back arched as his cock rubbed against your walls before he pushed into you again roughly.

Your chest rose and fell quickly with each short breath you took while Mingyu set his pace of his hips slapping against yours. Your back was still arched, and your hips lifted up uncontrollably to meet his.

"F-fuck," you whined. Your arms tried to spread apart, but they were restricted by the belt again. There was a dull ache in your wrists, but it only added to the pleasurable mix of sensations you were feeling right now.

His hands were squeezing your waist tight, to the point where you thought there might be marks there later. He thrusted into you quickly, desperately trying to reach his high. You opened your eyes to watch his euphoric expression: his head was tilted back, his lips parted, and eyes fluttered shut.

He let out a particularly loud moan and his eyes met yours. A small smile found its way to his lips before his eyes grazed down until they reached your chest. He watched the way your breasts bounced with each movement, and the sight nearly made his eyes roll back into his head.

"You gonna come?" He choked out as he saw the pleasure on your face. You moaned in response, unable to speak. He leaned over you and wrapped his hand around your throat. He stopped for a moment, before roughly pushing into you, his hips slapping against yours.

Finally, he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to thrust into you. The knot in your stomach burned and tightened. You clenched around him, which caused him to choke out a moan.

The pressure in your stomach reached its breaking point. Your body was washed over with a feeling of euphoria as your thighs shook uncontrollably. You could barely hear yourself when you let out a loud cry.

Your moans, the euphoric look on your face, and the feeling of you clenching around him all led to the snap of pleasure in Mingyu's core. He gasped as he struggled to pull himself out of you. "Fuck, I'm coming."

Hot ropes of cum painted across your stomach. Mingyu's chest rose and fell with his pants and moans as he watched the substance cover your body.

"Fuck," he whispered in awe once his orgasm faded away and he admired the mess he left on you.

Just as you were trying to catch your breath and relax your arms, they were stopped by the belt again. "Are you gonna take this off me now?" You asked.

Mingyu chuckled. "I guess so." He finally undid the loop and threw the belt to the floor. You sighed in relief. Mingyu quickly noticed the red marks on your wrists and caressed the irritated skin. "Oh, no. You could've told me it was hurting you." He frowned.

"No, it's fine. I-I liked it." You admitted sheepishly. Luckily, your cheeks were still red from before, so it hid the embarrassed flush of your skin. It was true, though. You never did these types of things before, and you certainly never thought pleasure and pain could go together, but you now that you had experienced it, you were enjoying it all too much.

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, a smile spreading across his lips as he stared at you. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his softly.

After a moment, Mingyu pushed you back slightly. "You, uh, probably don't wanna get that on your bed." He pointed to the cum on your stomach. You glanced down. You had almost forgotten it was there.

"Yeah, you're probably right." You laughed. Mingyu reached over for a tissue to wipe it off. The two of you cleaned up, and soon you were lying next to him on the bed again, with him back in his sweats and you with an oversized shirt on.

You faced each other, but your head was curled up against his chest, listening to the quiet sound of his heart beating beneath his ribs.

"You don't seem sad this time." He said. His chest vibrated beneath you as he spoke. You pulled away to look at him with your brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. All the other times we've done this you just seem sad after. But this time you don't." He noted.

You shrugged. "You seem different too. More cocky, I guess."

Mingyu pushed you playfully. "Shut up," he snickered.

"No, seriously!" You exclaimed with a laugh. "You were so awkward like a week ago and then today you pulled that stupid stunt in class!" You playfully smacked him back in the chest.

"Okay, yeah. You're right." Mingyu smiled, and then he sighed. "I guess I'm just... getting used to this."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, both thinking of the same thing.

Mingyu rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Which I really shouldn't be," he continued. You chewed on your lip as you pondered what to say.

"I'm breaking up with him."

Saying it out loud made realization hit you like a ton of bricks. But you weren't upset anymore. You would miss all those trips to the coffee shop and weekends in bed from over the past two years, but they had already come to an end the moment you packed up and moved away. At this point, he had become someone you used to know—someone you were holding on to when maybe you should have let go a long time ago.

Mingyu was quiet for a moment. "Wow," he finally spoke. "That's probably for the best. You didn't seem happy."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. An awkward silence started to settle, so you cleared your throat and quickly changed subjects. "So, I haven't heard much about this frat you're in."

Mingyu chuckled softly, turning towards you again. "What do you wanna know?" His hands idly reached for yours, fidgeting with and rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

You thought for a second. "Hmm, I guess... who are the other guys besides you, Cheol, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and bathroom guy?"

Mingyu let out a loud laugh. "Oh, God. Bathroom guy is Soonyoung. I swear, he's the smartest yet stupidest person you'll ever meet." He paused, his face contorted in thought. "Then there's Josh..."

You slowly stirred awake, scrunching your face once you realized the light was still on and about to blind you the second you opened your eyes. You peeked open an eye, glancing around your room for the clock. It was almost 4 AM. You sighed, groggily trying to sit up and recollect what you were doing before you fell asleep, but an arm was weighing you down.

You glanced over your shoulder, and were taken back in surprise for a second when you saw Mingyu lying next to you. The two of you must have dozed off at some point without realizing, and now he was pressed up against you from behind with his arm draped over your waist. He was sleeping deeply, with his lips slightly parted and cheeks puffed out.

You peeled his arm off you slowly, careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. You observed yourself in the fluorescent lighting. Thankfully, your hair wasn't too messy, but your makeup was still on and smudged around your eyes. Something about it almost made you feel hungover.

You spent a few minutes cleaning yourself up before staring at your reflection. If it wasn't already awkward enough that you and Mingyu accidentally fell asleep together, now he would see you bare-faced and groggy with sleep when he woke up. Sure, you two had sex a couple times, but somehow sleeping together was a thousand times more intimate.

You tiptoed out of the bathroom, slowly shutting the door so it didn't make any noise. You lay back down in bed stiffly, pressing yourself right against the edge to avoid Mingyu's grasp.

Just as you finished turning off the light and settling back into bed, Mingyu's arm reached forward and rested across your waist again.

"What time is it?" He muttered, his voice raspy with sleep. You jumped at the sudden noise.

"Oh, um, it's 4:02." You answered.

Mingyu pushed himself up onto his forearm and rubbed his eyes. "Like, in the morning?" He asked. You told him yes and his eyes widened. "Woah, sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He yawned.

He fully sat up now, running his hands through his messy hair. He turned to you, just barely able to see you in the dark. "I can go, if you want."

Oh, God. Even though this situation was an awkward mess, there was no way you could make him go home now.

"I'm not kicking you out in the middle of the night. What kind of terrible person do you think I am?" You responded, to which Mingyu laughed under his breath. "It's only a few more hours."

"Okay," Mingyu said as he lay on his back again. He rolled onto his side, his back towards you. You sat in silence before Mingyu added, "Thanks for not kicking me out."

You chuckled quietly, allowing your eyes to flutter shut and waiting for sleep to overtake you again.

The next time you woke up, sunlight shone in your eyes. With your eyes squinted shut, you rolled over, expecting to bump into Mingyu, but were greeted with empty sheets instead.

Your eyes shot open as you felt around the bed and realized that Mingyu was nowhere to be found. You couldn't help feeling disappointed. Even though you were dreading having to face him in the morning, the fact that he left without saying a word stung.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open. "Oh, you're awake," a low voice called. Mingyu stood in the doorway, still shirtless and his hair a little tousled.

You smiled. "I thought you left."

"Nope, still here," he replied. He sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at you. His dark eyes looked like they held a certain warmth in them. "I've never seen someone look so nice after waking up," he said.

Your face burned up instantly. "Stop," you cried sheepishly, burying your face in your hands. You didn't even want to imagine what you looked like right now.

Mingyu grabbed your wrists and pulled them away from your face. "No, really!" He exclaimed while you wrestled back with him. "Your hair isn't even messy and your skin looks so clear," he said in between laughs.

"What are you trying to do, Mingyu?" You cried.

"Just take the compliment and say thanks!" He responded.

You stopped fighting back, letting him hold your wrists while you stared at him with a pout. "Fine," you grumbled. "Thank you."

A satisfied grin settled across his lips, and suddenly you noticed how close he was to you. "You're welcome," he said, his face only a few inches from yours.

You watched as his eyes dragged down to your lips and your breath nearly caught in your throat. He inched forward until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and slow, until he pushed you back against the bed and pinned your wrists by the side of your head. He slipped his tongue past your lips and you moaned quietly against his mouth.

"You know what I said last night about you sitting on my face?" Mingyu pulled away to say, staring down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You felt arousal growing between your legs as you nodded rapidly. Mingyu let go of your wrists to lie on his back instead. Your hands trembled a bit as you reached to pull your underwear down your thighs.

"Your phone keeps going off," Mingyu said.

"Huh?" You didn't even hear it because you were too focused on the knot you felt in your stomach. You recollected yourself and shook your head. "Just ignore it. It's probably Jisoo or something."

"Hurry up," he teased, lightly smacking your thigh. You were straddling his waist.

"I am! I'm just nervous." You replied, trying to ignore the heat that was rushing to your cheeks. "I don't wanna accidentally kill you."

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Oh, shush. I wouldn't wanna die any other way." You hovered above his face, hesitating each time you tried to lower yourself. Finally, Mingyu grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you down. You instantly moaned at the feeling of his warm tongue flicking against your clit.

"H-holy shit," you moaned breathlessly. He held onto your thighs tightly, not allowing you to move. Your legs began to twitch at the stimulation and your hips rocked involuntarily.

Mingyu pulled away, and you thought for a second that he was trying to tease you before he groaned: "Oh, my god. Who keeps calling you?" He shoved his hand under your pillow and pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as he read.

"Who's Wonwoo?"

Your heart dropped right into the pit of your stomach. It felt like someone had punched you in the gut and you were unable to catch your breath.

"Are you kidding?" You cried. Mingyu had never seen your eyes so wide before. He turned the phone around to show you. Sure enough, Wonwoo's name was on the screen.

"Is that your boyfrie-" he started, but you interrupted by jerking the phone out of his hand.

"Don't say anything," you ordered. You hit answer and brought the phone up to your ear with a shaky hand.

"Hey," you said, trying to conceal the quiver in your voice.

"Hey," Wonwoo replied. Hearing his voice again made your throat tighten.

"I'm on campus. Can we please talk?"

#kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #mingyu imagines

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bump1nthen1ght · 4 years

Text

Thicker than Water (Demon x Reader) Chapter 2

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Gender Fluid!Demon

Genre: High Fantasy

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of past trauma

Word Count: 3165 words

Summary: You spend a day with your new companion

Chapter 1

“How about this one? It looks rather ripe.”

No, Mistress. The air of decay lingers around it, I fear it will begin showing signs of mold within a day.

“Oh, good eye.” You set the orange down, making sure to hide it away so no other unlucky customer may buy it, wiping your hands on your skirt. “What about this one?”

That one’s fine.

“Sweet.” You say, adding it to the pile of fruit accumulating in your arm. You double check the list. “Alright, I think that’s about everything.” You come up to the stand-worker and set down your fruits on their scale, finagling for the wallet in your pocket.

So many different types of produce. Is this merchant’s estate really so large that they can grow all these things?

“Uh, not exactly.” You mutter, before reminding yourself to speak inwards, as only you can hear the demon lingering nearby. “They actually represent several farms, giving them a cut of the money so the workers can focus on cultivation. Some farms have their own stalls for specialized goods, but these bigger ones are typically conglomerates.” After successfully grabbing your coin purse, you hand the worker some coins and begin loading your bag.

Ah, how convenient.

“Yes, I’d say so.” You once again check your list, mentally checking off the needed groceries. “Okay, I believe that is all the essential stuff. How about we check out some novelty stalls? I hear there’s a fine jewelry maker near the center of town.”

The only jewelry in the Nine Hells is that forged by the damned. Carved out of the husk of dead dimensions.

“So, is that a yes?”

Yes please.

“Cool.”

As you walk along the thinning market crowd, dodging between bakers and families, your shadow twists and turns. Occasionally and discreetly, it will fall behind you and stare at a particularly interesting stall, before leaping back into the darkness and reattaching to your feet. The crowd is so focused on their eye-level, what to be bought, who to sell to, no one really notices the abnormality.

After that night, that horrible night, you woke up in your bed; Sweaty and exhausted, but nonetheless harmed. Your mother had rushed to your side with a pitcher of water, relieved that your fever had finally broken. You had been asleep for a whole 24 hours, your parents finding you in your bed after you didn’t come down to breakfast. Your temperature ran high and you had tossed and turned with some kind of night terror, but recovered rather quickly.

After you had shoo’d your mother away, accepting the large breakfast and assuring her you were fine, the demon had appeared from behind the door frame. You nearly threw a fork right at its face.

-----------

“So that was….It wasn’t just a nightmare?” You muttered, eyes lost in your bowl of cheese grits.

“Yes, my mistress, it was real.” The demon steps out from the shadow of the door, causing you to flinch as their long horns scrape against the low ceiling of your room. They take another step back. “Your body gave out after you spoke your demand. I do apologize for the intrusion, but I searched your mind to find your home and brought you back to your own bed. Was that a correct assumption?”

You nod, shakily stirring your spoon, absentminded. You force your eyes to meet the demon’s, trying to contain your quivers.

“And now-” You gulp, keeping what little composure you have left, “-are you here to collect?”

The demon quirks their head, horns audibly scratching the hardwood. Their brow furrows as they contemplate, before their eyes widen with understanding. They shake their head and take another step forward. You clench your fingers around the blanket, but hold your flinch.

“No, mistress. You are not in debt to me, not in any way. That is not the ritual which was performed.”

You quirk your eyebrows, befuddled. “But, I thought that-”

“The wish you made was not so heavy to require the payment of a soul. Nor would you have been able to make such a wish in the first place.” Without you realizing it, the demon had walked over to your bed. Their staggering height should be intimidating, but the intonation of their words and the look in their eye is calming. Almost reassuring. “The payment was made when you gave me this permanent physical form.” The demon explains, flexing their fingers and faintly tracing the lines of your bedpost. “By pushing your body to the brink of death, you were able to reach across the veil and pull me through . Usually, a soul-paying ritual brings a demon temporarily to the mortal realm, to enact the wish and then take their payment. The summoning spell you performed takes a much stronger mind and body; Not only to bounce back from death, but to carry a new weight with you.”

The demon slowly sets to its knees, laying it’s head down on your blanket. “In that way, I am indebted to you, my mistress, for taking such risks to bring me here.”

You blanch, words escaping you as this massive creature pledges fealty to you. When your vocabulary finally returns to your brain, you shake your hands furiously.

“T-thank you, for your kind words and your help. But you don't need to. I mean, I-I have no want to force you to stay with me. I didn’t even fully understand what I was doing-”

“That is not a requirement, mistress. And you are not forcing me to stay, I want to stay.”

The demon urges, picking its head back up from the quilt. “If it is your wish, however, I can stay in the shadows and not bother you, protect you from afar. I wouldn’t wish to interfere.”

You shake your head once more. “No! No, that won’t be necessary. That sounds even worse, to be honest.” You mutter, picking at the quilt squares with your fingers.

The silence lingers. The Demon, still looking at you in admiration. It’s irises glow even in the soft-morning light, their pupils a deep void amidst the unnatural yellow.

“Well, I am going to eat. Feel free to….look around.” You say, gesturing to your tiny bedroom. The demon nods, slowly retreating from your bedside to the corner, eyes darting around the wallpaper until eventually settling on your dresser and small vanity.

You eat, taking hesitant bites as you watch them wander towards your things, taking the time to observe your minimal decorations. You had a tiny book collection, some knick knacks you had gotten from town or your parent’s travels, and a myriad of plants on your window sill.

The demon hadn’t shown any ill intent, not in their actions nor in their tone, but you still weren’t sure. You had heard stories of tricksters, who lure you in with false promises and sweet lies.

If four young men could do it so easily, imagine what a demon could accomplish.

You shake their faces out of your heads, brushing off the imaginary fingertips clutched around your arms. It’s over; You are safe, in your bed. God knows what happened to them. You fight away that thought as well.

As you slowly finish your breakfast, the Demon is looking at the cover of one of your books. Technically it’s an encyclopedia, filled with all the different types of marine flora and fauna. Your mother had gotten it for your birthday three years ago.

“Umm...demon?”

They pause, setting down the book and looking at you.

“Yes, mistress?”

“I was just wondering, since you’re going to be here for the foreseeable future, what should I call you?” They’re brow furrows, head tilting like that of a befuddled pet.

“I had not really considered that, mistress. Is it important?”

You scratch the back of your neck, avoiding their piercing gaze. “Not particularly, I guess. It just feels a bit rude to acknowledge you only as ‘The Demon’.”

The Demon’s face scrunches up, still confused. “In the Nine Hells, I was referred to by my title, I do not see anything wrong with that. It is a correct statement to call me a demon.”

“Well, maybe. I guess up here, your own name is personal. Something that defines you, a part of yourself. Kind of like the way you look, or how you present yourself.” You say, mussing up your bed sheets in an effort to calm your nerves.

The demon pinches their face once more, eyes darting to the book laying upon the desk.

“Is Captain a military rank in this plane as well?” The say, claws tracing the engraved title of the encyclopedia. Sort of confused by the change of subject, you glance towards the book cover. Captain Amelia’s Guide to the Unknown of the Ocean.

“Yes, but it also describes the heads of ships. Those who sail across the seas, discovering new things or dealing in trade. Pretty sure the only requirement is a boat, not a military career.”

The Demon hums, eyes still locked on the cover, decorated by a painting of a large ship, locked in combat with a Kraken.

“Then I think I’d like to be called Captain.”

You nod, fingers still entangled in your bed sheets. Captain looks back to you, sending a calming smile. As calming as a creature with more canines than a wolf can be. Your own smile is shaky, still wary of what is to come.

--------

That was about a week and a half ago now, Captain staying by you as you rested. Your parents only allowed you to help around the house after 3 days of solid bed rest, most of which you spent reading, crocheting, or talking with Captain. When they went off to work, you gave Captain a tour of the house, showing them all the tools of the kitchen and the apothecary.

Their presence had quickly become commonplace, your body no longer jolting when you caught a glimpse of the dark figure in the corner. You two would chit-chat and entertain each other, but knew when to give the other space.

Captain also demonstrated their shape-shifting ability, although it was not as dramatic as you had read about in grimoires. Mostly it was a day-to-day tiny change, one you had learned to acknowledge and inquire how they would like to be referred to as. Captain had been a little bemused by the limitations of your pronouns, but was rather swift in adapting to a strategy which best suited them.

It was nice, if a little bit strange. Although you weren’t sure if the two of you could be considered friends just yet, if not for the short time or them being a Demon bound to you by a blood contract, but you were definitely closer than acquaintances. Comrades, ship mates? You still didn’t know. But as the domestic days dragged on, you find you’re not afraid to find out.

---------

What animal is this, Mistress?

“I believe it’s a seal? Or a sea lion, could never tell the difference, if I’m being honest.” You say, fingers brushing over the wooden charm hanging off the market shelf. It’s small, the details defining but rudimentary.

You have lions which live in the sea? How fiersome.

“Not actual lions, but I’m sure they could put up a good fight. Are there any oceans in the Nine Hells?”

No. Not ones made out of water anyway; Usually its blood or other excrement.

“...Oh.” You mutter, shoving that image out of your mind. Captain didn’t often talk about their home plane, only offering terrifying details that made sense of why they so desperately wanted to escape. As curious as the thought of another dimension was to you, you tried to avoid the topic all together. Captain didn’t seem to mind.

Looking at the small charm, with it’s adorable, puppy like face, you gesture towards the shopkeep.

“How much for this?”

“Only two silver, miss.”

You look down at your spare grocery change, sending a tiny glance to your shadow.

“Would you like this, Captain? We’ve got the coin for it.”

There’s a brief silence, your shadow staying uncannily still.

….For what purpose, Mistress?

You shrug, tapping the dangling charm and watching how it twirls. “No purpose. It’s just rather cute, and well…” You brush a finger over the woodwork, feeling the tiny indentations carved, “If you’re going to be staying with me, you should have some stuff of your own, right? Seems only fair.”

There’s another pause, long enough that you risk another glance at the shade. Even without any definitive form, it looks pensive.

Yes, I would like it, Mistress.

You nod, quickly passing the silver. From the corner of your eye, your shadow seems to perk up. As you pull away from the stall, you slyly drop the charm down and into the darkness, the demon leaping out a hand to catch it. From inside your mind, the warm feeling of contentment and excitement resonates like an undercurrent, bringing a smile to your face. You can picture Captain fiddling with the toy in their massive paws, eyes alight. Butterflies flutter to life in your stomach.

Thank you, Mistress. I would not have thought such a tiny thing would bring me such happiness.

You shake your head.

“It’s no problem. If you see anything you like, let me know.”

You’re jolted out of your mind when by a large splash, a woman squealing as mud clings to her skirt, and a young man scrambles to his feet.

“And stay in the mud, you low-life pig!”

“B-But Jezebel, I-I can explain!”

“Explain what, exactly?” A small crowd is beginning to form around the commotion, but you find yourself frozen to your spot, thoughts thrown all over the place.

Three women, all beautiful, stand in the small entryway of a house. At the bottom, now covered in mud, is Richard.

“That you’re cheating scum? That you don’t deserve our time?” The first woman shouts, gesturing to the two others. She’s making a scene and she knows it, reveling in her screaming and his embarrassment. “And I’m not Jezebel, you idiot! I’m Viola!” She nothing short of screeches, leaning down and hurling a chunk of dirt at Richard. The other women huff in agreement, looking at him with disgust and spitting at his feet.

A low murmur has fallen over the crowd, gossip thriving as the women stamp their heels and Viola huffs back into the house. The door is slammed shut, the focus of everyone’s eyesight on Richard.

He looks haggard, dark circles and greasy hair indicating he hasn’t slept, at least slept well, in the last few days. His clothes, usually refined and tucked in, were loose and nearly tearing. Amidst the chattering group of people, remnants of conversations linger into your ears.

“They made the right decision, shipping him off.”

“Honestly, it was about time. A cocky brat like that needs some discipline beaten into him. I’ve heard Ivy’s Military School is ranked top in the country.”

“God knows he will need it. The boy hasn’t had class since he learned how to speak.”

The belittlement, the desperate look in Richards eye, looking for sympathy, should enthrall you. That knot of satisfaction should burst, reaping the reward of your suffering, revel in his despair.

But everything about this pitiful man terrifies you.

You nearly drop your groceries, pushing away bodies as you flee the scene, barely finding time to breathe. Your shadow has trouble keeping up with you, bending between foot steps and keeping track of your shape as you dart away, away, away.

You find solace in a dark alleyway, but peace still escapes you. Your heart and brain pound with pure adrenaline, finding purchase on a nearby wall as black spots dot your vision.

All you can see are Richard’s dirt filled fingernails, dragging across your throat, pushing you down. His knee digs into your back as you kneel on wet ground, the cold metal of a knife pressed against your neck, dangerously close to your racing pulse point.

Your shadow shifts and grows, Captain’s shape stepping out of your large shadow, taking tentative steps towards your quivering form. Your knees soon give out, sending you to the ground, but they catch you just in time. You barely feel the contrast of soft fur compared to rough concrete, curling up into a fetal position as you try to force the images from your mind.

Captain sinks down, claws petting your back. With a small voice, they instruct you calmly.

“In through the nose, out through the mouth. Just like that, mistress.”

The simple instructions give you something to focus on, something other than your fractured mind. You instinctively curl into their chest, their warm fur brushing against your cheek as you shove your face against them. Your eyes are clenched tight and you cling onto their shoulders, chest wracked with your heaving sighs. But the deep baritone of their whispers and affirmations slowly seep into your haze, pushing out the memories.

You continue to breathe in and out, Captain’s warm hands caressing your waist as they hum lightly. They tuck their chin above yours, their hot breathes blowing across your skull.

“It is alright, ____. You can do this, you are safe. I am here for you.” They mutter.

In minutes that feel like hours, your heart rate slows down, your mind loses it’s buzz. Captain hums an unfamiliar tune as they continue to cradle you, claws drawing shapes into your back while rocking your back and forth.

When you finally feel aware, present in the moment, you wipe away the tear tracks running down your face.

“Captain?” You whisper.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Can we go home, please?”

They nod, standing with you still in your arms.

“Of course, my dear.”

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

You unload groceries automatically, muscles and spirit tired after your crying fit. Captain helps, making sure to stay in the periphery and out of sight of your parents.

You give an excuse to them, explaining that the heat got to you, and collapse onto your bed. Captain lingers in the corner, poised for a command.

“Captain?” You mutter, fingers twirling a thread tassel on one of your pillows. They look up from their position. “Thank you, for being there for me. Today and…..last time.”

They nod, taking small steps towards your bed. Once close enough, they lightly wrap one of their fingers around yours, petting your knuckles.

“Of course, ____. I will always be there for you.”

You nod, a small smile crawling its way across your lips. You slip your palm into theirs, feeling their calloused finger pads, pulling them slightly closer to your form. Your eyes dart up to theirs. With a small blush, you whisper,

“And I will always be there for you.” Captain’s eyes slightly widen, but a large grin appears, a hint of their fangs glinting from behind their black fur.

“Thank you, ____.”

#monster romance #monster x reader #demon #demon x reader #female reader #reader insert #my writing

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loversandantiheroes · 4 years

Text

Hotel Hobbies - Part 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!Reader Author’s Note: This was not going to be a multi-chapter thing, but then people liked it and Whiskey wouldn’t shut the hell up so here we are, folks. I no longer know where this is going so strap the fuck in I guess. This is so long and I am so sorry. Edited for a cleanup 10/5/2020 Summary: A co-worker gives the Reader a little nudge, which backfires just a bit when Whiskey runs unexpectedly late. Warnings: Public sex, exhibitionism, angry sex, mild choking/breath play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, spitting, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (do as I say not as I fictionalize), creampies, come eating, vague allusions to Whiskey’s job and all the dangers contained therein, Whiskey is a service top and I do not take criticism, very brief mention of Whiskey’s past, exactly one (1) use of Spanish that I hope I didn’t fuck up too badly. Rating: Explicit / NSFW / 18+ / How much clearer can I make this? Word Count: 12k+ (oh GOD do not look at me I have no idea what happened) Previous: Prelude / Part 1 / Interlude Taglist: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @oloreaa @the-feckless-wonder @sarcasmisakindofmagic

The conference drags on into its fourth day in a parade of excessively bored people in suits and pencil skirts toting stale danishes and overpriced coffee; the only comforts provided to distract you from the mobius circle-jerk of tedious corporate bullshit. Most of the assembly hall does little more than nod blandly as yet another guest speaker goes through their presentation, the topic of which you forget at least six times throughout the course of it. Half of the attendees aren't even bothering to take notes anymore. The company could've filled the room with potted plants in cheap suits and gotten a better result. At least the plants would provide a little oxygen to the atmosphere.

It certainly doesn't help your case that half of your brain is circling endlessly around Whiskey. You scribble down a set of shorthand bullet points in your notes and try to blink away the image of his arms straining against taut ropes. You sip your coffee and remember the heat of his tongue chasing the taste of his namesake in your mouth. When you cross your legs and feel the deep, pleasant twinge between them, for a split second all you can think about is the way he felt sinking down into you with his teeth against your neck.

The time absolutely crawls by. There's moments when you half expect to look up at the old analog clock on the wall and see the hands start running backward. Of course this would be the day the presentations run long, wouldn't it? Restless and fidgety, you eventually give up on your notes completely and just resign your attention to the clock and whatever obscenity your brain wants to conjure up from the night before.

Claudia, one of your only work friends that actually opted to attend this fiasco, gives you increasingly amused looks throughout the morning, glancing up at you over her phone (on which, you can't help but notice, she has been playing Bejeweled for the past hour with the brightness turned down). After you check the clock for the fifth time in twenty minutes, unable to really keep yourself from sighing angrily through your nose, she shakes her head at you, laughing quietly.

"So what's his name?" she whispers, leaning over conspiratorially.

You give her a glare, but she only raises her eyebrows expectantly. Goddamn it, why does the entire universe find it so funny when you're irritated?

"Whiskey," you mutter back, glowering.

She has to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop a snorting giggle from being loud enough to cause a disruption. "Oh my god," she sputters. "Are you fucking a biker?"

And okay, maybe that is a little funny. You shake your head, mutter back, "Cowboy."

Claudia grins so wide her shoulders pull up with it. "Save a horse," she whispers, trying to dodge out of the way when you elbow her to cut off the rest of the joke. Three people behind you simultaneously shush the two of you, and you toss a dirty look over your shoulder, settling back into your seat.

A few seconds go by before Claudia's leaning back over to quietly add, "The dick must be good to get you this distracted."

"Shut up," you shoot back, but you're already smiling.

When the presentation ends, the entire auditorium raising up on creaking knees to shuffle out to break for lunch, Claudia's hand clamps down on your arm.

"I'm buying lunch and you're going to tell me everything."

So you do. Parked in her conservative little hybrid over styrofoam boxes of take out, you tell her. Damn near everything, too. She listens with rapt attention, this not being the first time she's poked you for details of your love life, such as it is, but judging by the look on her face it's possibly taken the top spot as the most memorable.

"So you're gonna see him again," she says finally as you tell her about Whiskey's invitation before slipping out the door this morning.

You settle back, trying to make yourself look suitably apathetic before answering in the hopes of not being completely transparent. "I dunno. Maybe."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh please. You're gonna see him again. You've been spaced out with dickbrain all day, there's no way you're turning down that invitation."

You wave the end of your plastic fork threateningly. "I will stab you, I swear."

"Not with this many witnesses," she says with a wave at the horde of pedestrians outside on the sidewalk, blatantly ignoring the shanking motions you make in warning.

When she doesn't drop that annoying, knowing look, you start jabbing at your food, rolling a piece of cucumber around the styrofoam. "I mean...ok yeah I thought about it."

"All morning," Claudia provides.

"Fuck you," you counter lightly, and resist the urge to fling the chunk of cucumber at her. "I just...I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Oh my god, why not?" she cries, head thrown back in exasperation.

"Well it's not exactly fucking sensible, is it?"

"Honey if you were worried about being sensible you wouldn't have fucked a cowboy you picked up at a hotel bar," she says with a shake of her head.

"Did you miss the part where he tried to convince me he was James fucking Bond? I mean c'mon Claudia. That's gotta be...I dunno, some kinda red flag."

She scoffs, flapping a dismissive hand. "Oh please, when the bullshit's that obvious I don't even think it counts. It’s not like you bought it anyway. Besides, honesty is the backbone of a solid relationship, if you're just poking fun it's more like a bonus. As long as he's not married and not a serial killer, who gives a shit? You’re overthinking the shit outta this, hon.”

That’s...well that’s not wrong. It’s honestly irritating how not wrong that is.

When you don’t give a response save for the idle sounds of plastic scratching on your takeout box, Claudia groans. “God are you really gonna make me talk you into getting yourself laid? Okay, if you wanna be rational about it, fine, here's some rational thought for you." She pops out her thumb, ticking off digits as she lists. "He's hot. He likes to eat pussy. He's a fuckin' sub, which - holy shit, girl. Holy actual fucking shit. Plus he's packing and he actually knows what to do with it. Oh, and he bought you fuckin' breakfast!" She wiggles her fingers as she thrusts her hands out towards you. "Seven outta ten, babe! My god, if you don't fuck him I'll do it for you just so I don't have to eat another shitty continental breakfast."

You laugh, but there's a hot flush creeping up your face, and you have to stare out the window for a minute until it starts to wind back. It's almost successful, until you think of Whiskey again. This time, though, all you think of is him outlined in the door, looking back at you with his face too shaded to see. And then your cheeks flare hot again, not with that lingering sense of want, but with a flighty kind of panic.

And just like that you pin it down, your stomach twisting on itself as you finally put words to that moment of apprehension. Whiskey doesn't scare you. His lines don't scare you. The way he fucks you doesn't even scare you. But that moment that he lingered does. It scares you because you think maybe what was going through his head is the same thing that's been going through yours, a fine little thread looped around every remembered pleasure: the worry that you're about to develop a taste for something that you'll never have the chance to get again.

Maybe it's better to leave it. To chalk it up as a fluke and not risk finding out that he'd feel just as good the second time as he did the first. Cut it off now before that lingering taste turns into a full-blown craving.

Claudia sighs, closing her takeaway box. "Look, hon. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. It just sounds to me like you're overthinking this. You don't need to be fucking sensible all the goddamn time. So what if you're thinking with your pussy right now? You had fun. He was fun. You have the option to have more fun. You are entitled to have some fun. So, hey: fuck sensibility and have some fucking fun."

You nod. It's reflex at first, but slowly becomes more deliberate. More sure. "Okay. Yeah. You're probably right."

"I am always right, thank-you-very-much," she corrects, and then promptly shrieks as you launch a slice of cucumber into her hair.

⁂

The trick of it all, you remind yourself that evening as you cross the hotel lobby for the elevator, is not to think about it. Because if you think about it, really think about it, you will find a way to talk yourself out it. Sensibility is as much of a hindrance as a help at times. But you've decided now: the absolute last thing you want to be tonight is sensible. You've been bored out of your mind all week, and as much as you're loathe to admit it, Whiskey has been the only bright spot in the whole affair. At least he's given you something to look forward to, even if it is just the prospect of getting railed until you forget your own name.

You take the time to change when you make it to your room. Grab yourself a short, but blisteringly hot shower, and conveniently forget your panties when you redress. Eventually you make your way down to the bar with your heart almost strangling you with the way it's seemingly lodged itself in your throat. Whiskey's nowhere to be seen, which isn't a complete surprise. He always seemed to turn up a little late in the evening before. Not wanting to deviate too far from your own habits, if only to make yourself a little easier to spot, you take your familiar place at the far end where you've been set up for so many nights in a row. You order your drink, make friends with the closest basket of pretzels, and you wait.

And wait...and wait.

Your eyes are half on the clock and half on the door, flicking back to that last at every sign of movement. Despite the fact that you're practically nursing your drink, the bartender refills your glass twice over the course of the night. When he offers a third, you shake your head. Your face feels like it's burning. The bartender nods and wanders away, either oblivious to the growing anger on your face or determined not to end up the recipient of it.

It's nearly midnight when you finally push yourself off the bar stool, throwing down enough bills to cover your tab and storming off. He stood you up. You cannot fucking believe it. What's worse is you feel like you should believe it. Should've expected it. As if a man that strutted around like a preening rooster and fed you a bullshit James Bond story would have a streak of honesty.

You punch the elevator button hard enough to make your hand tingle, pushing your way through the doors as they open and hitting the button for your floor. The walls of the elevator are mirrored, and you duck your head, not wanting to know what your face looks like just now, twisted up in anger and more than a little shame. The doors hang for a moment before sliding closed. At the last possible second a hand darts in, stopping them. Broad. Tanned. Tattooed. The man of the hour leans through the doors as they retreat, and gives you a grin.

"Room for one more?"

Your stomach does a back flip, blood rushing in so many directions you're not sure if you've got enough left to power a response. If this little scenario had played out even half an hour earlier, you might've laughed. Might've fallen back into that easy bitchy banter the two of you seemed so good at. Might've even kissed him. But not now. Now you've built up too much steam, and every little ounce of anger – earned or not – that you'd had percolating for this man since you first laid eyes on him bursts out of your mouth in two words, laced with as much venom as you can muster.

"Fuck you."

You can practically hear the record scratch in his head. The smile falls, eyebrows ratchet up so high you can't see them for the brim of his hat. It's satisfying in an awful sort of way. Like scratching an itch hard enough to draw blood. Too late to take it back now, though. You lash out at the elevator panel, punching the button marked CLOSE DOORS, and Whiskey side-steps neatly inside.

"All right," he says slowly. "That is not exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"Yeah, well tough shit, cowboy," you all but spit, raking a hand through your hair. You keep your eyes down. Forward. Anywhere but on him. It's hard, too many reflections. Even the distorted shape of his silhouette in the door makes your blood boil.

"I know I'm late," he starts, hands raised, and the low and placating tone of his voice hits you like lighter fluid on a match.

"You don't fucking say?"

His hands drop. "Can I at least explain myself?"

Laughing too loud and too sharp, you shrug, shoulders pulling up hard. "Yeah, sure, why not? Let me guess, rough day at Spy HQ? Assassination appointment run over? Or were you just hiding behind the fucking dieffenbachia to see how long I'd stick around before I came to my fucking senses?"

The shrill sound of your own voice almost makes you wince. You're overreacting. It's not like you're unaware of it. But you're pissed off, and worse now, you've committed to being pissed off. Backing down now is damn near impossible, never mind actually apologizing.

Whiskey takes a step forward, his eyes gone all puppy dog again; wide and imploring under twisted brows. "Look, I don't blame you for thinkin' the worst. I know I left you waitin', and I apologize for that -"

You roll your eyes, mouth twisting into a smile that shows too much teeth to be kind. "Christ, y'know what, don't flatter yourself. I like that bar. The pretzels are nice and they don't water down the liquor. I didn't show up for you."

"Oh horseshit," he snaps. He doesn't raise his voice, but there is a whip crack of impatience in it. "If you didn't want to see me tonight you wouldn't have turned up at all. You and I both know that."

Fuming, you jam your hand into your purse, fishing out his flask and tossing it at him hard enough that it hits him square in the chest. He catches it on the rebound.

"Here. You forgot this."

Whiskey turns it over in his hands, thumping the metal against his palm. "Right. I see," he says slowly, slipping the flask into his pocket. Under that thick drawl, there's a twinge of something that might be disappointment. "Just came to do the decent thing and return a man's property."

"Yes." Part of you sinks, screaming in frustration. But it's like you're a spectator now, just watching yourself sabotage the only thing that'd brought you a shred of joy all week just because your pride and temper won't allow any other option.

One hand falls to his hip, the other rubs idly across his mouth. He's scowling now, quite spectacularly at that, and for a second you think you've finally dealt enough of a blow to his pride to piss him off. Then he steps in close, jaw set. The way his eyes travel up and down you sends a flush through your body, and you're not sure if you want to slap him hard enough to knock the mustache off his face or kiss him until his lips bleed. His gaze lingers at your hip, your curves quite plainly displayed under the tight skirt. He reaches out. The back of his fingernails barely brush the fabric.

"Do you always make returns without any panties on?"

You try to swallow, but find your mouth has gone suddenly bone dry, your throat sticking with a sharp and painful click. "Fuck off," you try to tell him, but it comes out a croak.

"You know what I think?" Whiskey continues, and the tone would nearly be conversational if it weren't for the way he's looking at you, eyes perfectly black and hungry under the shade of his hat. "I don't think you're just mad because I'm late. I think you're mad because I can get a rise outta you. Part of you kinda likes it. Enough to wanna come back for a little more of it. And you don't know what to do about that. Bet you can't even decide if you wanna throttle me or ride me 'til you can't come anymore. Bit of both, maybe, huh?"

Oh fuck you very much, Mister Perceptive. "Christ, you and your fucking ego-"

"Oh to hell with my fucking ego, and yours too." He leans in close enough that you can smell aftershave and a fainter, acrid smell that, if you weren't so fucking preoccupied, you might recognize as spent gunpowder. "If you want me to go, just fuckin' say it. But don't bullshit a bullshitter. If you wanted rid of me that bad you would've tossed me out on my ass last night before I'd even finished coming."

Your jaw works, and you push yourself a little harder against the handrail just to keep from slapping him. How dare he-

How dare he what, exactly? Be right? Again?

You clench your jaw, gripping the handrail on the wall tight enough that the corners dig into your fingers. Glare at him like you're trying to light him on fire. He doesn't flinch.

"What you did last night...that made for a hell of a first impression," he says slowly, and the low rasp of his voice almost curls your toes. "One I don't expect I'm liable to forget this side of fuckin' doomsday. Shit, I don't even know your fucking name and I ain't been able to shake the thought of you all damn day. Now you can believe that or not, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. But the only thing I'm asking from you right now is to be fucking straight with me. If you want me to go, you fucking tell me, and I'm gone. But if you want me to stay, honeybee I swear I will make up for every second you had to wait."

"Fuck you, Whiskey," you breathe. It's all you've got left, all you can even think to say, but it's too soft. It's too hard not to believe him when he's looking at you like that. Even if he's still got your teeth on edge, ready to bite, the fire in your belly is sinking lower every second. And there's no way to mistake the low rasp of your voice for anger.

He leans in, hovering barely an inch away from you, and tips your chin up with his knuckle. "That ain't an answer, honeybee."

His lip curls into a smirk and for a second all you can think about is running your tongue out to follow the curve of it.

"You can punish me if you like," he offers in a low, darkly sweet voice. The fingers on your chin trace a path along your jaw, up to your ear, and down the side of your neck as he talks; a three-point constellation drawn in goosebumps. "Lord knows I deserve it. Tie me up again. Ride my tongue until you've had your fill and never lay a finger on me. I don't mind a bit. I'll probably come in my fucking jeans like a goddamn high school virgin while you do it, too."

Oh god. It's too hot. It's too hot and he's too close and it feels like there's no air left. Those words took the last of it and left you with nothing. And then your lungs finally unlock, hitching in air so pitifully loud that for a second his eyes drop first to your mouth and then lower to watch the buttons strain on your blouse.

His tongue brushes up against the back of his bottom lip, a strange gesture, but one you can't drag your eyes away from. And the bastard just keeps talking.

"Then again, maybe the way you've been acting up you'd be more inclined for a little punishment yourself. I could take you upstairs. Turn you over my knee and put my hand to that pretty little ass until it blushes like a ripe summer peach. I'd bet you'd drip just as much and twice as sweet, too. I'd kill for a taste of you right now. Fuck, if you really want I could just hike that skirt up and fuck you right here and now. I am a flexible man and I am willing to take you any way you'd see fit to let me. But only if you let me. I ain't here to play bullshit games, and I will not take anything you don't want to give. So I need you to tell me, honeybee. Do you want this? Yes or no?"

Everything inside you burns and twists. Fuck, you want that. All of that. And all you have to do to get it is unstick your stubborn, too-sharp tongue and admit that you want it. That even without the excuse of three shots of tequila on top of a few too many cocktails, you still want it.

You're burning up. There's sweat on your palms. It squeaks as you twist your hands over the railing. He hasn't just turned the tables on you, he's flipped the whole fucking room and cornered you with it. And God help you, it's infuriating how much you like it.

"Hate you. So much."

"Hm." His hand falls away, and you miss the touch instantly. "So you keep sayin'. Decision time, honeybee. You pick or I'm picking for you and we're both gonna be disappointed in that result."

There is a long long beat where that threat hangs between you. Any hope that he might just push forward and take you anyway – push you into the wall and fuck you ragged right here and now without another word – bleeds away as you stare him down, your wordless challenge going unanswered. His gaze is iron; hard and unyielding, and you know if you wait even one more second, this...whatever the hell this is, will be over. Permanently.

Swallowing the last of your pride like so much cheap liquor, you seize the front of his shirt, dragging him forward even as he starts to back away.

"Yes. Fucking goddamn it. Yes, I want this."

"Yeah?" He leans in, nose brushing your cheek. Somehow it's that little gesture that sets off a bomb's worth of butterflies in your stomach.

"Yes."

The heat of his hand is almost shocking as it glides up your thigh and underneath your skirt, his thumb stroking up and finding only bare skin. Whiskey grins. "Knew it."

You choke back a sigh. "Smug bastard."

"Yes ma'am." His thumb brushes up and down your slit idly, slow and considering. He glances around, quirks an eyebrow, and offers: "Here?"

Following his glance, you spot the hunk of plastic mounted in the top corner of the elevator. "Camera. Fuck."

"Sure enough," he drawls, still grinning. "You want to give the boys 'n' girls in the security booth a show, or d'you want to go someplace a little more sensible?"

Sensible. God, If he'd chosen any other word, you might've agreed. Private. Safe. Anything but fucking sensible.

"Fuck sensibility. Fuck security, too. Just shut up and fuck me."

He laughs through your kiss, the touch of his lips too gentle by miles. The last thing you want right now is gentle. You don't fucking deserve gentleness after all that. And so you rake your teeth across his bottom lip, roll your tongue against his. When you nip at his tongue, Whiskey breaks off, cupping your sex with a warm, calloused hand.

"You're gonna eat me alive, honeybee," he growls. He parts you with a thick finger, drawing the pad of it from your entrance to your clit and back again. "Mm, I have been thinkin' about this all day," he murmurs before his finger sinks into you.

Sighing, you curl your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off to run your fingers through his hair and muss up that razor-clean side part. His hand works unhurried between your legs. You rock against it, listening to the obscene smacking sound as he works you open.

"All that fuss and you're wet for me already, darlin'," Whiskey says wonderingly.

All you can do is groan, chasing the sensation of the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. "Shut up and kiss me."

You tug at his hair, try to urge him forward, but he doesn't budge. He sinks down to his knees instead, right hand never leaving the wet heat of your cunt.

"I'll kiss you, baby," he says, pushing up your skirt and lifting your right leg over his shoulder. "Don't you worry."

And he kisses you: a warm, wet slide of lips and tongue where he's got you spread. Gasping, you grab the back of his head. He looks up at you, only the crinkles at the corner of his eyes proof of his smile, and his eyes slip closed like a man savoring his favorite meal.

"Jesus." The word comes out in a squeak as his mouth works on you, your throat tightening in an effort to keep quiet. A second finger joins the first and you whimper, tightening reflexively against the stretch. Christ those fingers are thick. Shuddering, you work your fingers in his hair and pull him closer, your eyes wandering up to the reflection in the far wall. The view is mesmerizing: your back arched, skirt hiked up to your waist, with Whiskey's head buried in between your legs like a man trying to slake an ungodly thirst. The view on the left is even better. From there you can watch his mouth work against you, catching a glimpse of his tongue, wet and shining as it slips between your folds. He sways forward on his knees like a charmed snake, a growing bulge straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans.

There's a gentle ding, and for a moment you're so scrambled you think maybe your phone's going off. And then the elevator doors slide open. An older looking gent with a battered briefcase stands frozen on the other side, eyes wide as dinner plates as he takes in the same view you've been admiring in the mirrored walls of the elevator.

For a single spaced-out second the only thing you can think is, Going down?, which makes you erupt into a fit of breathless, senseless giggles.

The newcomer's mouth hangs, flapping uselessly over words he can't quite formulate. He might be trying to apologize for the intrusion or insist you repent and turn to Jesus. You don't know and you don't care.

Whiskey looks up at him over the line of your thigh, lips glistening. "Get the next one," he snarls, and punches the CLOSE DOORS button.

He plants a rough, sucking kiss at the top of your cleft as the doors close again, utterly unperturbed. "Penthouse, darlin', if you please."

Oh he would be in the fucking penthouse, wouldn't he? Panting, you fumble a hand out trying to find the button just as Whiskey slides in a third finger and you cry out, almost swiping every button in the center row by accident.

The elevator hums to life and begins to move. The red light on the security camera flashes benignly and you stare at it for a long beat while Whiskey gets right back to work, moaning hungrily between your legs. Someone's watching this. The thought excites you more than it should, adding fuel to the already roaring fire Whiskey is so eagerly stoking with his tongue. You roll your hips, swearing roundly. It's not enough. It's fucking glorious, but it's not enough. You know what you need.

"Fuck me," you gasp. "Goddamn it, Whiskey, gimme your cock."

He glances up at you through thick lashes, eyebrows raised. "Is that what you want, honeybee?" he asks.

You bear down on his fingers hard as if to answer and he clenches right back, thumb and pinky giving him leverage against your pubic bone as he grips you tight, fingers stroking along your walls. It's only by virtue of the handrail and the support of his shoulder that you don't sink straight to the floor. Christ that backfired.

You nod fervently, head spinning.

A roll of his shoulder unseats your leg, and he stands. His left hand wraps around your throat, thumb against your jawline, and that's so fucking perfect you can't stop yourself from whimpering. In a flare of desperation you grasp his wrist, urging him to grip your neck just a little tighter. Chuckling, he brushes his lips against yours – soft and strangely tender – while he fucks you steadily with his fingers.

"Shoulda known you'd like that. Well? Cat got your tongue? Come on, darlin', lemme hear it."

"Yes."

"Louder. Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Oh god-d-d-damn it!"

He chuckles darkly, fingers coaxing inside you. "You can do it, honeybee. I know you want it. I just need hear you say it."

You bare your teeth. "I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl." He grins down at you, wide and wolfish. "Now: ask me nicely."

Oh he would, wouldn't he?

"B-bastard," you snarl, then begin to laugh.

"Oh come on now," he croons, eyes darting between your lips and your own heavy-lidded stare. "I'm sure you can get along without your pride for an hour or two. It ain't so bad. And I promise I'll make it worth your while. C'mon."

You groan, grit your teeth, and hiss out: "Please."

He crooks his fingers and you gasp like you've been burned. "'Please' what?"

"Please fuck me. Please fuck me."

He slots your trembling thigh between his legs, pressing the clothed, solid length of his cock against you. "With this? Hm?"

"Fuck, yes." You writhe, feel it twitch, and he rolls against you in response.

"Come for me first, honeybee. Then I'll fill you up good and proper. Cross my heart."

His fingers press into you harder, spreading gently as he draws them back. Your legs begin to shake so badly that he has to pin you to the wall to hold you up. The rail digs into your back. You'll bruise tomorrow, but you're not sure you've ever cared less in your life.

"You gonna come, for me?" he asks, rutting a little more enthusiastically against you when he feels you begin to tense and flutter around his fingers.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you nod, feeling the drag of his lips on your cheek.

"Uh-uh. Talk to me, darlin', I wanna hear it. I want you to tell me every single time you're gonna come, you understand me? Count them out. Let's see just how many you got in you tonight."

"Oh you ass!" You moan and laugh all in the same breath.

"You like it," he says simply.

He kisses you, warm and deep, and you bite his lip for the audacity. "Don't stop. Fuck, I'm close."

He turns your head, slides his hand around to cup the back of your neck. "Open your eyes, honeybee. Watch yourself."

You try. Everything's a blur; inside and out. Fuzzy and disconnected and hot. Blinking to clear the fog, you can see your reflection caught between the wall and Whiskey's body. Your eyes are dazed, unfocused. His cheek is against yours, a look of utterly indecent hunger on his face, lips red and swollen where you've bitten him. He's pressed up against you too tightly to get a good view, but you can see his arm pinned between your bodies, and the flex of muscles working underneath his jacket.

There is, you note with a fuzzy sort of disconnect, a small, ragged hole in the arm of his jacket.

But before you can put any more thought to this discovery he presses his thumb down against your clit – no friction, only a firm, rolling pressure – and that's all you need. If it wasn't for the his body against yours, you'd buckle. As it is, trapped between him and the wall, all you can do is quake and cry out, arms tightening around his shoulders as you come.

He hums indulgently, kissing your cheek. "Count it out."

Panting, you pull hard on his hair until he groans. "One."

"Good girl," he murmurs. Slowly his hand withdraws, giving one last slow swirl over your folds before he sucks you greedily off his fingers.

There's the muffled sound of a zipper and you could almost laugh – finally! But then the elevator slows and stops, doors sliding open with a soft ding. Whiskey glances sidelong at the open door, corner of his mouth pulling up in a half-cocked grin. The disappointed whine you give as you hear him zip himself right back up is wholly involuntary.

"Well wouldn't you know it," he says, pulling away from you and stooping for his hat. It's all you can do not to whack him on the back of the head – or on the ass – as he turns away, wiggling your skirt back down over your hips instead.

He gives a ridiculous wink towards the security camera with his hat held to his chest. Your stomach gives a neat little flip as you look up at that blinking red light – god, you'd forgotten it was even there.

"Sorry to blue-ball ya and run, fellas." He gets an arm around your waist, tugging you into the hall at an easy, languid pace, as if nothing had happened. As if your legs weren't still quivering, with the evidence of your orgasm running in sticky trails down the inside of your thighs.

"Betcha money, marbles, or chalk they'll be jerkin' off over that for weeks," he says jovially, pulling you to his hip when he feels you start to wobble. "C'mon. Let me get you in a bed before I say to hell with it all and fuck you out here on the goddamn floor."

Your knees tremble again; at least one part of you has full support of that particular idea. As the door opens you pull him back to your mouth, kissing him hard even as he steers you by the hips through the suite. You barely see any of it. Recessed halogen lights. The sparkle of painstakingly cleaned glass and marble. Little else. A grunt escapes you as you fetch up hard against the wall and Whiskey crashes into you. The sudden pressure against his groin leaves him winded, rocking forward against you with a shuddering groan.

"Tell me how you want it," he says, words mangled against your mouth. The salt-musk taste of you still clings to his tongue, sharp against some faint remnant of sweet mint.

One hand slips down, squeezing your breast through the material of your blouse. The room spins giddily like a tilt-a-whirl, still riding the coattails of your last orgasm. "Hard," you breathe. The skirt you chose is too fucking tight, and you have to reach down to drag it back up your thigh just to hook a leg around him. "Don't you dare be gentle."

He chuckles as you press into him. "How hard is hard? I can be a little rough if you let me off the leash."

Frustrated, you slip your hands under his sports coat, nails biting into his shoulders through his dress shirt. "Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yeah," he says, and his voice has reached that breathy, sonorous pitch that sends a hot-cold shiver rocketing down your spine. "Yeah you do. A little honesty would be appreciated tonight."

One good shove and his jacket slips to the floor. "That's funny coming from Double-O-Cowpoke."

"Not my fault you don't believe me." It's pitched like a joke, light and breezy, but there's something in his eyes. Sharp and peculiar and gone almost before you can be sure it was really there, but makes your stomach clench with a sudden surety that the next words out of his mouth are completely genuine. "I ain't lied to you yet, honeybee."

And that almost brings you to a halt. Your hands splay out on his shoulders, pushing back to look at him more clearly. If that's true. If that's true...oh god, why would he have told you?

The question is halfway to your lips before he surges his way forward again, his mouth crashing into yours and kissing you hard and urgent and bruising. A faint sound of protest rises in your throat and you push back a little, not wanting him to stop but wanting him to wait because...because....

And the rest of that thought flutters away. He doesn't stop kissing you. He just doesn't stop. And he's moaning as his tongue licks into your mouth and his teeth scrape over your lips like it's the most decadent thing in the world. You grasp at his face, wrists caging in his neck, feeling his pulse race along next to your at such a frantic speed it's almost alarming. Your last little shred of rational thought all but begs you to push him back a little harder, to make him look at you and ask him what's wrong...and then it just flutters away because God this is what you want. This. This, this, this.

"You want it hard?" he rasps into your mouth, rutting up against you hard enough to drive you back into the wall.

Breathless, you nod. Work your fingers through the mess you've made of his hair. "Ruined you last night, didn't I?" You tighten your grip, use your knuckles for leverage and pull.

Whiskey groans, slipping his hands under the bunched hem of your skirt to grip your ass and grind you down against him. "Goddamn right you did, honeybee."

"So ruin me back." The thick denim that covers his fly is rough, but you rub against it all the same, shuddering at the coarseness against your tender skin. "Fair is fair. Right?"

His eyes slip closed and he buries his face against your neck for a moment, breathing unsteady. "Jesus, girl, you're gonna soak straight through my jeans," he mutters. "All right, honeybee. All right. I only got one rule. If I do anything you don't want, you tell me. 'Cause I ain't stopping unless you do. Not tonight. Got it?"

"Whiskey-"

He gets a grip on your chin, levels your eyes on his. "You tell me 'no' or you tell me 'stop.' Got it?"

"Yes." Patience exhausted, you wrench his belt open. "Now come on."

Buttons patter to the floor as he tears open your blouse. And that's good. That's fair. And what's even better is the rough way he puts his hands on you, yanking your bra down to knead and squeeze your bare breasts. When you finally free his cock there's only a brief moment to savor the warm, solid length in your grip before his fingers clamp down on your nipples. The sensation is so sharp and bright and sudden that you yelp, arching up on your tip-toes.

"Hands off, honeybee," he warns.

Whimpering, you flatten your hands against the wall.

"Too much?" he asks softly, that funny little furrow deepening between his eyebrows.

A groaning laugh slips out of you, and you arch your back, pushing your breasts against his hands. "Not enough."

"Fuck, ain't you just the sweetest, dirtiest thing." He twists and you cry out, hips bucking forward. His cock drags against your hip and you chase it, trying to pin it between you.

"Oh, c'mon. You promised," you whine.

"Oh I'm gonna keep my promise, baby, don't you fret. I want you just as fucked-out as you had me. Wanna see you so goddamn cock dumb your eyes roll back. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, too, haven't you?"

The wall warms under your hands as you fight not to push back more. And maybe that's what does it. A little mental-short circuit. Because God knows you haven't been able to think of a single fucking thing other than this. But the denial is on your lips so fast it must be involuntary, a reflexive need to find his buttons and push: "You wish."

Whiskey raises an eyebrow, lip curling. For a second he's amused, seeing the game you want to play. And then it's like a switch flips. Suddenly this isn't the man who'd begged for the privilege of fucking you last night. This isn't even the man who'd put his grateful mouth to your cunt in the elevator. This is the man he'd pretended to be right up until you got his hands tied. The cowboy get up wasn't the costume – this is. This smile. This infuriating swagger.

"Oh, really?" he says, and for the first time you realize just how much that drawl had begun to soften around you, because now that dial's ramped right back up to 11. "You turn up tonight without any goddamn panties on, ride my fingers like a coin-op pony, beggin' to get fucked all the while, and then you try and tell me you ain't been thinkin' about me? I felt how hard you came. How fucking wet you were." His hand darts between your legs as quick a snake-strike, fingers carding through your folds. "Are. Ain't no face left to save, darlin'."

He's in your space, radiating heat, his fingers stroking against your swollen sex, stoking your own fire all over again. But the fire those words kindle burns a little quicker and a little hotter. Without a second thought you strike out, palm tingling as it finds its target against his cheek.

For a moment Whiskey doesn't even seem to breathe. He just stands there leaning heavy against you with his eyes closed and his nostrils flaring. Redness blooms against his cheek. When his eyes open again, the way they bore into you, glittering and eager takes your own breath away.

He hums, that low, pleased sound. But now it slips lower and lower into a breathy rumble that lances straight through you. "Do it again."

Swallowing hard, you slap him again. Harder this time. For a moment the only reaction he gives is the way his cock bobs sharply, slapping against your thigh.

Then he growls, seizing the back of your neck and crushing you to him. You crane up, half expecting a kiss, but his thumb snags the corner of your mouth. He drags it open until your jaw hangs, tilting your head back. A choked sound that's a little too plaintive to be a protest slips from your open mouth a second before Whiskey spits into it.

"Swallow."

You do, sucking hard on his thumb for good measure.

"You nasty little thing," Whiskey says, his voice slow and dark as molasses. His eyes glaze over a little as he works the ball of his thumb against your tongue, watching the way your lips purse around it. "Maybe you are the one that needs the punishin'."

He leans against you, breathing hard as he considers this thought. You frown a little, catching his thumb with your teeth, hoping he'll get the hint and give you something better to put in your mouth. But then his grip loosens, one hand disappearing behind you. Hints, it appears, are completely off the table tonight.

"In," he growls, throwing open the bedroom door. "Now."

Whiskey leads you inside, hitting the lights with his elbow. The room is furnished in that same drab but sparkling minimal style, an impressively large bed swallowing up the majority of the space. One wall is nothing but windows behind drawn shades, a sliding door leading out to a small, isolated balcony.

He steers you directly to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you across his lap to straddle his knee. You let out an indignant little yelp at the treatment, but then he shifts his leg under you and the indignance crumbles. It presses against your mound just right, urging you open, and you grind down with a gasp, trying to find a little relief.

Whiskey tuts. "Oh now look at that. Try to tell me you ain't been thinkin' about takin' my dick and then rub on me like a goddamn cat in heat."

There's the sound of a zipper – not his this time, but your own – and then a little tickle at your hip as he undoes the skirt and wrestles it down your legs. He pushes your blouse up, bunching the material up around your shoulder blades. For a second you think he means to pull it off, but then he twists the fabric around his hand. The garment draws up tight, leaving your arms, still in the sleeves, pinned to your sides.

You moan a little when you feel his hand slide across your ass. He bends over you, and you feel the wet heat of his mouth against your ass cheek. A sweet, languid swirl of his tongue before he bites down. You jerk hard enough that your clit drags against the rough weave of his jeans and you cry out, the sound muted by the bedspread.

The pressure of his knee aches beautifully against your cunt, your breathing so shallow and quick it makes you lightheaded. You know what's coming, and you know what you asked for. The last thing you wanted was to be sensible. And this – well this might be the least sensible thing you've ever done.

You buck your hips up sharply. Searching for his hand. "Do it."

The first strikes are quick and brisk. They tingle, warming your skin, but don't hurt. Not yet. This is just a tease of the real thing. A warm up. The tips of his fingers trace the first reddening outline of his hand against your skin, a match for the not-yet faded print against his cheek. Crooning, he kneads your buttocks, spreading them apart, making the slick folds of your pussy slide against each other.

"Sweet Jesus will you look at that. Open that up, baby. Lemme see just how fuckin' wet that gorgeous little pussy is."

You gasp, grinding down again, and then first real slap lands across your ass, unexpected and jarring. The sting is enough to make your eyes water, but the impact drives you forward, almost encouraging your hips to grind into him. A second strike lands on the other cheek, then back to the first, alternating each time. You rock with it, caught between the hot stinging slap of skin on skin and the building heat between your legs.

"This what you wanted?" Crack.

"Fuck!"

"Is it?" he demands. His hand descends again. Crack.

"Yes!" You kick out, struggling not because you want to, but because you have to. And it only makes it worse. Or better, or – God, you don't even know now. It's more. It's just more. His knee digs in harder and your poor neglected cunt throbs with a misplaced ache and you swear you have never needed to feel yourself filled up more than you do right now.

"You gonna behave?" Crack. "You gonna stop lyin' to me now?" CRACK.

"Yes!" The word leaves you in a shuddering sob, thighs clamping down around Whiskey's leg. One more, God help you, one more and you'll tip over, you'll come all over his knee, you're so close.

And then he stops, rubbing and kneading the hot flushed skin, and you whine in desperate frustration as your orgasm begins to retreat.

"Goddamn. Prettier than a Georgia peach," Whiskey says thickly. His hand strays, slips down between your cheeks and presses against the splayed lips of your pussy. You writhe under the sudden attention, feeling the tips of his fingers slide around your clit. "And damned if you don't drip twice as sweet."

"Please." Warmth trickles from the corner of your eyes, blooming against the bedspread.

The swirl of his hand is lazy, almost soothing but for the way it keeps you so frighteningly close to the edge. "Truth first, honeybee. C'mon. You know what I wanna hear."

"Ye-yes," you mutter. "Goddamn it yes. I've been thinking about fucking you all day. All goddamned day...God, Jesus, fuck, and then you didn't show. Thought you'd ditched me. Made me want - want it and then ditch me."

You bury your face in the quilt. It's a fucking cop out and you know it. You don't just want it. You want him. Fuck, what is happening?

Again you feel his mouth against your ass cheek, open and wet, but this time his tongue is almost cool by comparison. "There now. I didn't ditch you, baby. Wouldn't fuckin' dream of it." His voice is low now, placating, nearly apologetic. And then his fingers are slipping inside you again, stroking and curling. "I'm right here here, baby. Right here. Just a little late, is all."

You whine, trying to wriggle back to drive him in deeper. Those thick fingers are like fucking magic but you need more than they can provide. Desperate now, you clutch your fingers back towards him, find his shirttail and tug at it. "Jack. Please."

It doesn't even register to you that you've called him by his name – God, you didn't even think you remembered his name – until the fingers inside you still. If it wasn't for the hammering of your heart in your ears you might've heard his breath catch.

Slowly he twists his fingers inside you, pressing down until you shudder. "What is it, honeybee?" he mutters. The hoarseness in his voice is familiar. You wish you could see his face. "Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck me. Please. I waited all fucking night."

He rolls you off his lap, leaving you dangling half off the bed and folds over you, cock nestled against the heat of your reddened ass. There's a sticky slide to it; you're not the only one that's wet.

"Hand to God, baby, I'll make it worth every minute. On my fuckin' life." The pained edge in his voice sets the room spinning, and for one mad moment you find yourself trying to grab onto the bedspread to keep from rolling away. Whiskey leaves a kiss against the back of your neck before he draws back, the hand fisted in your shirt tugging you along just a bit.

There's a long, wavering moment when his touch leaves you entirely and you almost protest before you hear him frantically shedding his clothes behind you. Then his hands return, his left winding back into your shirt, his right warm and strong against your back. The blunt, weeping head of his cock nudges between the swollen lips of your pussy. He stays there for an infuriatingly long moment, enough that you cry out your frustration into the bedclothes.

And then he finally makes good on his promise.

You go up on your toes, legs straining as he breaches you. After all the hours you spent thinking about it, all the hours you waited, it's bliss. But the pure, unadulterated stretch of it laces that bliss with a white-hot line of fire that only serves to make it all the more urgent. Maybe it's the angle, bent in half with your ass up and your legs closed. Maybe it's just how overwrought you are already. Maybe...fuck, you don't know, maybe somehow he's even harder than the night before. All you do know is that he feels so big you can't hardly stand it. It's so much, bridging the gap between pleasure and pain until it's just an overwhelming sense of pressure and fullness that has you clenching and fluttering around him. As if your body can't make up its mind if it wants to expel the intrusion or welcome it deeper.

He has no right to feel this good. None. But goddamn it you're so glad he does.

"Fuck," he mutters shakily, fingers biting into your hip. "This what you wanted, honeybee? Huh? This what you been waiting for?"

You can't find the air to give him an answer. Whiskey's still moving forward, you're not even sure how. Christ how much more of him is there? He leans forward, pushing you into the mattress, pushing down into you until you start to shake, until he hits that buried junction inside you that sends a flare of heat rocketing clear down to your toes and your stalled orgasm rears up again so sudden and so close that it's startling.

Every muscle in your body tenses, straining. The whine that breaks out of your gaping mouth is pitiful. "Shit, oh shit, Jesus fuck, Jesus fuck-fuck-fuck-"

He feels it. He must. There's no way he can't. "Oh fuck, that's it honeybee," he croons, working his free hand under you to circle your clit as he sinks that last broad inch into you. "Come on. Come all fuckin' over me."

For a second everything shorts out, all senses lost in a white-out. The only tenuous connection you have to your body lies in the grounding pressure of his cock inside you and the faint but rapid fluttering of his pulse in it. And then you're slamming back to yourself with a ragged cry, blood roaring in your ears and coming so hard that you nearly buck off of him entirely. Your arms flex, bend, bunched cloth digging deeply into your skin until you feel rather than hear the seams rip. And then the tightness is gone, Whiskey's hand unwinding immediately from your shirt to stroke up and down your back.

There's a lump in your throat when you finally find enough air to speak: "T-t-two."

Whiskey groans. "Beautiful. Fuck, you shake so pretty when you come for me. I could watch you do that all night. Might just, at that." He drags the torn wreck of your blouse off you, popping the clasp on your bra and bending to place an open, humid kiss in the valley along your spine.

He rocks forward and back, one hand clamped into soft flesh at your hip, humming tunelessly. "Been wantin' to bury myself back in this sweet pussy from the minute I woke up. Ain't been able to think of nothin' else. Just this," he says, drawing back slowly before burying himself to the hilt and rolling his hips against you.

You clamp your teeth down on your lip, fighting the haze. It's hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. But he's rolling into you slow, far too fucking slow. And that isn't what you need. You try to push yourself up on your elbows, but he thrusts forward, a little more force in it this time, and your arms give out.

"Ha-harder," you pant, voice thick and muffled by the quilt. You turn your head, claw the hair out of your face. "F-fuck me harder, god-d-d-damn it. Make me fuckin' feel it tomorrow. Big-dicked b-bastard, oh my God, don't you stop."

He breathes out a laugh, folding over your back. The pressure against your tender ass stings like hell, and you hitch in a hissing gasp as Whiskey's mouth finds your cheek. He kisses you, or does his best to. The angle is strange and your face is half-smashed against the bed, but his mouth slants over the side of yours, tongue dragging against your lips until you open for him, letting him lick against the sharp points of your teeth.

"Careful what you wish for, honeybee," he whispers, grinding forward in a maddening circle. "Words like that will get you in a whole mess of trouble."

The air leaves you in a whooping rush as he stands, dragging you up against his chest, your back bowing to try and keep the searing length of him pressed where you need it. And then – ah god – his hand is around your throat and his teeth are sinking into your shoulder, and you're suddenly glad he can't see the way your eyes flutter and roll back.

Not that he even needs to see it, because just then Whiskey groans into your skin as a rush of wetness courses down his cock.

"Fuck, is it that good, baby? Hm?" His voice quavers as his body impacts yours like a sledgehammer. "My dick finding all the sweet spots in that pretty little pussy for you?"

You grapple at him, find where he clings to you and grip his hands, inadvertently encouraging him to press his hand just a little harder against your throat. And there goes the room again, looping and floating as he starts to move, really move, driving forward harder and harder. You stumble, going up on your toes, some choked and desperate noise caught in your throat somewhere under his hand. Sparks pop behind your eyes, faint and wavering like fireworks reflected on choppy waters. And then the pressure eases, air rushing into your lungs once again. The fire in your belly flares up at it like a backdraft.

"M-more," you grate out. "Oh f-fucking God please more. D-don't...d-d-don't-"

"Don't you worry, baby. Ain't gonna stop," he mutters harshly against your ear. "I'll give you all you want. Ain't stopping 'til you tell me to stop."

You shake your head, or at least try to, the movement restricted by his hand. "N-no. Never. Fuck, never-never stop. Right there f-fuck-"

Whiskey growls out something low and broken and unintelligible as you clamp down on him, your body chasing that bright, blazing heat whether you want it to or not.

"Oh fuck, are you comin' again for me already, angel? Shit, you are, aren't you? Got yourself all riled up today and now you just can't stop. C'mon then, baby. Come on my dick. You feel like fuckin' heaven when you come. Pussy's so good it oughtta be fuckin' blasphemy. C'mon, honeybee, do it for me, come like you fuckin' mean it-"

Before you can breathe a word it hits you and it hits you hard, muscles seizing up so tight it's like they're trying to wring the pleasure out of you. You ride through maybe three or four near-blinding shocks of it and then your knees, traitorous things, finally give out underneath you. The only thing that keeps you up is Whiskey's arms wrapped tight around you, clutching you to him, suspending you on his dick as it grinds up brutally against your g-spot.

"Got you, honeybee," he grunts, rhythm never faltering. "I got you. Keep comin' for me, baby, keep comin'."

And god help you, you are. You're still quivering, still coming, and then his hand falls away from your neck to cup against your sex, palm flat against the rigid little knot of your clit. He doesn't even rub, it's just a heat and a pressure and it's like your whole body stutters upward, launching towards a second, higher peak. Whiskey lets out a broken groan against your neck as you bear down on him so hard it nearly hurts and you wail at the unexpected, overwhelming force of it.

Everything spins off and away in the aftermath, senses blown out like a bad circuit. Sounds are swallowed up in a high, persistent ringing. You haven't got the strength to force your eyes back open. There's a shift and a feeling of soft cloth beneath you and when the haze starts to lift you find you're on your knees on the bed, shoulders down and ass up with Whiskey draped over your back. He murmurs things against your cheek, your ear, your neck. You can't hear a word of it over the ringing in your ears.

You turn your head, knocking your forehead against his by accident. "Thr- I- f-four?" Your voice jumps in your throat, but you can't quite make it steadier. "I...I don't-"

"Honeybee," he drawls, his cock giving a hard, desperate twitch inside you. He grins at you indulgently, gathering your hair up in one broad hand and pulling. "Good girl."

A shudder goes through you as you realize he's still fucking you. Deep, swift strokes that send tingles sparking through you. He drags his cock out of you and drives it back in, pulling it over your blazingly sensitive nerve endings like a bow over violin strings. Like it's a privilege to do it. Like it'd be a fucking crime to stop.

He drags two more orgasms out of you like this. Shuddering, slow-building things that overtake you like flood waters, rising up with an aching, consuming crawl unmindful of the pounding pace Whiskey holds to like a clockwork battering ram. It's only when you gasp out a broken cry of "S-sih-s-six!" that Whiskey's hips finally begin to falter, stuttering and slowing at the feeling of your overworked pussy milking his cock again. His grip on you tightens as he tries to steady himself, tries to hold on, groaning his own restrained pleasure through gritted teeth.

"Tight - fuck! Goddamn it girl you get so fucking tight when you come. So fuckin' wet. Sweet Jesus. I don't know how m-much more of that I can fuckin' take."

"God, fuck, do it, just do it," you whine, reaching back for him with hands that can't stop shaking. "C'mon Jack."

He laughs at that, but it's a little frayed and frantic at the edges. He brushes the hair out of your face, working his fingers into it and giving it a tug. "I – ungh! Oh s-shit – I got... your p-permission this time, honeybee?"

You hum, nodding, and hitch in a breath as he grinds in particularly deep. "Please."

His rhythm falters again, hips canting suddenly at a hard angle. "W-where? Fuck, fuck, where do you want me, baby? Hurry."

"In-inside. Inside me. 'S what you wanted last night? Right?"

Whiskey makes a broken sound, lurching against you. "Y-yeah. Oh shit, yes. Jesus fucking Christ, honeybee."

Growling, he flips you over and slides in deep, pushing your knees up almost to your shoulders and staring raptly down at your face even as his own contorts. The length of him inside you stiffens even more, pushing in so deep his hipbones grind painfully against your own.

And then he breaks with a cry, his whole body locking up with the force of his climax. His head drops between your breasts and his back arches high, fists punching deep divots into the mattress on either side of you. He rocks through it, jerking at every pulse and spasm, and you can't help but shiver at the warmth that pools inside you as he comes.

"Fuck, fuck. Nngh, ho-holy shit." He almost says more, but another tremor wracks his body and it chokes off into a broken mess of Spanish - "¿Que chingas me estás haciendo a mi mujer?"

Winded and boneless, you scratch your nails weakly across his scalp, working your fingers down his neck to his shoulders. "Better be a compliment."

"You have no idea," he pants open-mouthed against your skin. Instead of elaborating he just eases himself out of you and crawls his way down, trailing his mouth over your skin until he's settled between your legs, staring at whatever disaster he's made of you and groaning softly in appreciation.

Take a picture, you almost say, it'll last longer. But before you can work up the air and energy to put breath to the quip he's drawing his tongue against you, cleaning up the mess he's made with a desperate, greedy reverence that sets your knees trembling on either side of his head.

Whimpering, you clamp your lower lip in your teeth, shuddering up against the warm heat of Whiskey's mouth. "Careful," you warn. "Oh, G-God, careful."

The only answer you get is a low moan and the feeling of his fingers sinking diligently back into your cunt, coaxing out the trickling remnants of his orgasm.

A high, lazy heat begins to build again, over-sensitivity easing back into something warm and sweet and giddily aching. Your hands cradle the back of Whiskey's head, carding through his sweat-soaked hair as he licks his own come out of you. It's not a thing you've ever really given much thought before – bodily fluids were always more an incidental part of sex for you than anything else – and you're not sure if he's enjoying the act itself or just the strange submissive edge of it. Curiosity gets the better of you and you glance down at him, expecting to see him staring intently up at you over the rise of your mons, gloating over the state he's put you in. Fuck, he's made you come so many times you're sure he'll never let you forget it.

Only he isn't. His eyes are closed, face lax with a blissful intoxication as he tastes himself inside you, holding your thighs up and apart to let him work his tongue and fingers in deeper. The sight of him so clearly lost in the moment, not goading or gloating, just rapturously gone is maybe the single most erotic thing you've seen in your whole life. And that sweet, lazy heat suddenly licks up to a blaze.

The sudden clench you give is impossible to miss from Whiskey's vantage point, and he groans against you. "One more, honeybee," he almost pleads, breaking away from you with a sucking pop just long enough to gasp air. "You can gimme one more, can't you? I know you can. C'mon baby. Lucky seven."

He lowers his head once more with a decadent hum and you throw yours back as he sets to more deliberate work, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.

"God, you greedy b-bastard," you rasp out. The stimulation to your worn nerves leaves you quaking, wriggling underneath him. You're not sure you can stand another one, but a deep, hungry part of you is desperate to find out.

He growls at that, more in agreement than in offense, and when your hands scrabble at his he parries them without even glancing up, seizing your wrists and yanking you down even tighter against his mouth.

You nearly kick him in the ribs when you come. It's not your fault. Honestly it's his for working you up to this point. To this high, nervous overload that's barely left you any control over your body. It doesn't seem to faze him, though. Your heel glances off his side as your shaking legs lock around his back and he just keeps going, like he hasn't even noticed, like he isn't even here. Like the world has spun down smaller and smaller and the only thing left is his mouth and your cunt and leaving that would mean the end of everything.

But it's too much. Goddamn it, it's too much.

You sob, wrench your hands out of his grip and push at his head. "S-s-seven. Sev-seven. F-f-fuck, Jack. No more, n-no more, please, stop, I can't, I can't– "

He's pulling away before you even finish, pressing one last biting kiss against your thigh before crawling shakily over you to put his mouth to yours with a surprising gentleness. The taste on his lips is heady, musky and sharp. His arms tremble at the strain of keeping himself from slumping over on top of you, gasping raggedly between each kiss like they’re just as necessary as air.

For the longest time you can’t even move, you’re far too wrung out and exhausted to even try. All you can do is lie underneath him and do your best to remember how to breathe between slow, lazy kisses. Eventually you work up enough breath to speak. "'M sorry," you whisper hoarsely.

Whiskey shakes his head, trying to focus his eyes. "What for?"

"'Two minutes and a cigarette.'" You bring up a hand, patting his cheek with an awkward bonk. "I stand corrected"

A look of comical confusion takes over his face, brows knitting together, until he finally remembers the jab you'd made after you'd tied him up the night before. "Shit," is all he says before he dissolves into giddy laughter. His arms finally give out on him and he rolls to keep from toppling onto you.

You roll with him, tucking your head into his shoulder and giggling. It aches. The muscles in your abdomen so overworked that even laughing hurts, but somehow that just makes it funnier.

You’ve nearly composed yourselves when Whiskey tries to prop himself up on an elbow that immediately slides out from under him and almost smacks you in the head, and that just sets you both off all over again. Giving up entirely, you just lay there, shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing like a couple of punch-drunk loons.

"You hungry, honeybee?” Whiskey asks breathlessly when he’s got himself back under some semblance of control. “I could eat a goddamn horse."

Now that he mentions it you realize just how long ago lunch was, and your appetite, which had so far taken a backseat to both your temper and libido, roars back to life. "God yeah, actually. 'M fuckin' starving."

So for the second time today, you get room service on Whiskey's dime. Or his employer’s dime, he insists. You're not sure if that's better or worse. It's a little ridiculous. Even more so when you think to look for a clock and realize just how late it is, but you're absolutely famished and the second he's on the phone asking in a pleasantly fuck-drunk voice for a couple hamburgers and french fries you're stomach's growling so insistently you're almost certain the staff on the other end of the line heard it.

He's chuckling as he hangs up the phone, draping over you to nuzzle into your neck. For the first time you notice just how much his mustache tickles, and you squirm under him, giggling all over again.

"Love me a woman with an appetite," he mumbles, nipping playfully at you.

"God, what the fuck are we doing?" you stutter out through your giggles. It's not meant to be a real question. You’re practically a space cadet right now, and you can’t remember the last time you were this giddy after sex. But Whiskey shifts a little, pulling back to look down at you, and you can't quite parse the look on his face. "Never had a one-night-stand like this before.”

"Hm." He drops his head a bit, tapping an idle finger against your collarbone. "Think the repeat offense kinda cancels out the one-night-stand idea, honeybee."

"You didn't strike me as the repeating kind."

"Mm. Didn't strike you as the kind who could hold his dick up for longer'n a minute, either. So I'll try not to take offense at your continued misjudgment of my character." His eyes wander away from yours, pulling up his well-worn crooked smile with some degree of effort. "But if you're looking for a polite way to tell this old man you've had your fill, there ain't no need to beat around the bush about it."

You might've appreciated the easy out once. After tonight, though, you're almost offended at it. You're not in the habit of begging for things you only have a mind to dispose of. A little of that flighty panic starts to take hold, and you tamp it down. Fun. This is just for fun. Even if you do want a little more. Fuck, don’t start overthinking it now.

"Is that what you want?" you ask, and it's only the curiosity in your voice that keeps it from sharpening into an accusation.

Whiskey shakes his head, a bit of incredulity in his eyes. "What I want...shit, what I want is to get me somethin' nice an' artery-clogging to eat and then get some fuckin' sleep. Preferably next to the woman who has fucked me ragged two nights running, if she happens to be amenable to that kind of thing. That's as far as my wants go right this second."

The deflection is so clumsy it’s almost funny. “Chickenshit,” you mutter.

Whiskey blinks down at you, shocked for a moment before you give him a teasing smile. “Fuckin’ comedian,” Whiskey says, snorting laughter. “Ain’t no softening that tongue of yours, is there?”

“You never know.” You shift a little, heart hammering as you consider your next words. "How much longer are you going to be here?"

The crooked smile slips, becoming softer. "Well. That sorta depends on you, honeybee. My work's all wrapped up. But if you're gonna be around a bit longer and are lookin' for a bit of company I might be convinced to stay a bit longer."

You feel the smile creep up on your face before you can stop it. "I wouldn’t mind a little continued reprieve from corporate hell. Under one condition," you insist, waving a finger at him.

Schooling his face into a parody of gravitas, he nods expectantly. Proceed.

"I need to know something first. Some things. Plural."

He cocks an eyebrow. "How many is plural?"

You consider for a second, squinting. "Three."

"All right," he says, resting his chin against your shoulder. "Fire away."

You pop out your thumb. "Are you a serial killer?"

He stares at you for a long, silent beat before his eyes slip closed and he shakes his head, his chest hitching with stifled laughter. "No, honeybee, I am not now nor have I ever been a serial killer."

You nod, grinning. "Okay, one down.” You pop out your pointer finger. “Are you married?"

The levity bleeds out of his face with a swiftness that makes you regret the question instantly, sure he's about to drop a bombshell directly on your head that's going to leave you hating him and yourself. But he shakes his head, holds up his ringless left hand as if in proof, as though nobody having an affair would've ever thought to slip a ring off beforehand. But then, very quietly, he adds: "Was. But not for a long time."

You nod dumbly, mutter, "Okay.”

For a second you wonder if you should apologize – you’ve clearly tripped on something raw by accident – but then he's poking you in the ribs and drawing in a sharp breath. "And number three?"

A little grateful, you pop out your middle finger ask your last question: "What do you do? What do you really do?"

The corner of his mouth gives a twitch. "Shit, is that all? Well. Officially, I'm a businessman. I own a sizable amount of shares in the Statesman distillery company. Which, incidentally, is where that fine stock of bourbon whiskey came from," he adds.

You lean back, eyeing him carefully. You don't think he's lying. And yet....

Your fingers find the catch of a scar against his ribs. "You're scarred to shit for a liquor tycoon, cowboy."

The twitch turns into a grin. "I have been known to get a little rough-and-tumble once in a while."

"I don't know if I believe that story any more than I did the James Bond bullshit."

Whiskey huffs a laugh. His jeans are in a puddle at the end of the bed and he drags them up, pulling out a thick leather wallet out of the back pocket. From one of the compartments he pulls a business card embossed in gold and black and hands it to you.

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, Statesman Distillery, Kentucky.

You blink at it, giggling a little. "Jesus Christ that is actually your name?"

"More or less. Been Anglicized for flavor, among other things."

"What was it before?"

There's an odd sharpness in his eyes when he looks at you, a shrewdness you'd never have expected from the costume cowboy you'd met down in the bar. For a moment you're sure that not only is he not going to answer, but that you've overstepped a line you weren't even aware existed.

"That's four questions," he says, "not three."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," you add with a tilt of your head.

The corner of his mouth curls slightly, and the sharpness fades. "Well now, how can I resist that a bargain like that?" He pauses a moment, as if reconsidering, then adds: "It was Joaquin."

"Joaquin?"

"Mm." He nods. There's only a moment of quiet before he tilts his hips to the side, jostling you. "C'mon, darlin. A deal's a deal."

You roll your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. And you tell him your name. He repeats it back, and you don't need to see his face to know he's smiling.

"Pleasure to meet you," he says. "Literally."

"Jackass."

#agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #citrus variations #spicy spicy content babes #I really didn't mean for this to end up this long but here we are I guess #ao3 version and fic masterlist will be updated shortishly

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