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#i guess i’ll just post all parts on here even if they don’t contain smut just so it’s consistent !!!
janicho88 · 1 year
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When It All Falls Apart -Chapter 4
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Pairing- Jensen x Padalecki Reader
Word count- 2,648
Warnings-Pregnancy talk (Will last a good chunk of the story) But it's not the reader. Some language. Implied smut. Jensen isn't the best boyfriend. I warned before this started posting it would contain angst, if you need another reminder, here it is. If I missed something let me know!
A/N-A little off canon, SPN ended after 10 years. We still got all the characters in during that time though. Thank you to @writercole and @leigh70 for your help with this. You two are amazing!!
Summary-Y/N Padalecki loved acting on Supernatural.  Working alongside your older brother and your boyfriend, but after ten seasons the guys have chosen to hang up the guns.  Now the three of you are moving on to other projects, but that’s all that needs to change right?  While you have moved to Austin to be closer to your family and boyfriend, Jensen is working elsewhere.  Distance is only the start of your troubles.
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“You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!!” A small voice screams while climbing on your bed way to early Monday morning.
“I am, and I was sleeping Tom.”
“Wanna come play with me?”
Rolling over you squint at the clock, and almost swear out loud when you see it says 5:15. “Thomas, I love you, but no. I will play with you later, Aunt Y/N had a long weekend and would like a little more sleep.  Why are you even up so early?”
“Scary noises in mommy and daddy’s room.  I called mommy but she didn’t come, do you think they got hurt.?
“No, but they’re going to,” you mutter to yourself.  To your nephew, “how about you lay with me for a bit and I’ll play with you later, after breakfast, okay?”
He huffs out his agreement, and the two of you manage to drift back off to sleep.  Two hours later you are following the little guy down to the kitchen.  No one else is up yet, so you help Tom get his breakfast and pour yourself a glass of juice before sitting down next to him. 
A perky Gen soon makes an appearance.  “Hey, how are you two doing this morning?”
“Aunt Y/N got me breakfast,” Tom answers.
“Oh she did, that was nice of her.”  She turns to you, “thanks for helping him.  I’m surprised he’s up so early, he was trying his best to stay awake until you and Jared got home last night.
“Scary noises woke him up, he came into my room a little after 5.”
“What scared him?”
“From what he said it was you and my brother doing something I don’t even want to think about.  But Tom just thinks someone was getting hurt.”
Her jaw drops at your words, “Oh, snap.  We didn’t mean to wake him up, it's just these dang pregnancy hormones have me all…”
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“Nope, nope, nope, there are some things that go on with you and my brother, I don’t need to know about.  At least someone is getting some.”
“What don’t you need to know about your brother,” Jared asks, walking into the kitchen.
“Apparently, we got a little loud this morning and woke Tom.  He in turn went and woke up Y/N.”  She then turns to you, “what did you mean about that last part?  Didn’t you just see Jay?”
“Yeah, but we had separate rooms.  Wasn’t exactly the weekend I was hoping for, but he said he’ll be here this weekend.  So, I’ll be clearing out of your house for the weekend.”
“What are your birthday plans for Saturday?” Gen wonders.
“I don’t know, Jensen didn’t say.  I’ll try and get it out of him later this week.  I’m good with a day hanging out at the house, I don’t need anything special.”
You grab a muffin from the counter as you are leaving the kitchen.  Walking into the living room, you listen for Tom, trying to figure out where he ran off too.  You hear giggling behind the couch and decide to sit down there.
“I came to see if Tom wanted to play, but I guess he isn’t here.”  Next thing you know he is running around from behind the back.  
“I’m right here!”
You spend some time with him before taking a trip to the grocery store for Gen.  Back at the house you spend a little time out by the pool before helping her with dinner.
The three of you are sitting on the patio after eating watching Tom play in the yard, when Jared turns to look at you.
“So what do you think of Ackles’ news?  I think it’s about damn time, I’ve been telling him he should do that for years.”
You turn to your brother in confusion, trying to figure out what he means.  Nothing comes to mind.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The album.”
“What album?”
It’s Jared's turn to stare.  “Are you just pretending not to know?  You don’t have to, he told us about it at dinner Saturday night.  Dude seems pretty excited about it.”
“Jared, again, what album?”
“You really don’t know?” he asks.
“That’s been established, babe.  Let’s move on to the explanation,” Gen cuts in.
“Ackles is making an album with his buddy Steve Carlson.  They’ve been working out the details and writing over skype calls.  You seriously didn’t know?”
“No, he never said a word.”  Great, you think, one more thing to keep him busy.
“Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you, make sure you act surprised alright?”
“Sure.”
The conversation dies down, and you spend a few more minutes watching Tom before you excuse yourself to head to your room.  You don’t even try to reach out to Jensen tonight, what Jared has told you shows you are just moving further down the list of his priorities.
Thursday comes around, and you hadn’t heard from Jensen since you’ve been back.  You have texted him, two you saw were read, another one still hasn’t been.  That evening you give him a call, trying to figure out your weekend plans.
“Hey honey, how’s it going?” you ask when he finally picks up the phone.
“Fine, I’m just walking into my place.  It’s been a long week, the scenes we’re filming this week are something else.”  He goes on to tell you a little more, without giving many spoilers away.  “So what’s up?” he finally turns the conversation back over to you.
“I had a few questions for you.  First one, what time are you flying in?  I’ll come pick you up.”
“You don’t have to drive all the way over there.  I’ve already got it covered.”
“The airport is just half an hour away.”
“I’m not flying into Austin, I’m going to Dallas.”
“Oh.  Stopping to see your parents before coming home?”
“I’m staying in Dallas this weekend.  Mack and Josh want to have a family get together on Sunday, they have been hounding me about coming home this weekend.   I’ve got some meetings on Saturday, and I’m flying back here Sunday night.”
“Oh.”
“Jared said your parents were coming back to Austin Saturday night, so I figured you’d be busy all weekend.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Did you have another question?”
“Nope, not anymore.”
“Okay, I’m filthy and beat, so I’m going to go hop in the shower.  Have a good night.  Love you.”
“Yeah, love you too, Jay.”
That phone call definitely dampened your spirits.  Maybe he was still going to surprise you Saturday, and he didn’t really have any meetings.
Gen takes you out for a mani/pedi on Friday, then out to lunch.  While you are sitting in a quiet corner booth she starts talking about your plans for the next day.
“Any idea what you and Jay are doing tomorrow?”
“No, he said he wasn’t coming to Austin.  He has meetings in Dallas and then is spending time with his parents.  I think he’s just trying to surprise me.”
“I’m sure.  After all the craziness I bet he just wants to do something special for you.”
You smile and nod, hoping she is right, but something in your gut has you wondering.
“Well, we’ll be home all day hanging by the pool if the two of you want to join us.  His pool isn’t open yet, right?”
“No, since he wasn’t going to be around and I was busy and mostly spending time at your place.”
“I didn’t think so.  We can order from your favorite Italian place for dinner.”
“Thanks, I’ll see what tomorrow brings and what he is thinking.”
Your food comes and you discuss some of the plans for Father’s Day on Sunday. 
Saturday morning hits you like an almost four year old tornado.  You are sleeping soundly when your door bursts open and Tom is throwing himself on your bed.
“Happy Birthday, Aunt Y/N!!  Happy Birthday!”
“Thanks, Tom,” you groan, rolling over.
“Thomas Padalecki, didn’t I tell you not to wake her up?” Gen scolds her son from the doorway.
“I’m sorry Y/N, but happy birthday since you’re awake now,” she says, turning to you.
“Thanks Gen, it’s alright I should get moving anyway.”
“Daddy said he’d make breakfast this morning.”
“Is he even awake yet?” you question looking at the clock, surprised when it actually says 7:48.  Tom wasn’t as early as he could be some mornings.
“He’s in the kitchen with his grown up drink.”
You look over at Gen, too sleepy to understand why your brother is drinking this early.
“He’s downstairs with his coffee.”
“That makes more sense then I was thinking.”  Tom rolls off of you so you can crawl out of bed. Throwing a sweatshirt over your pajama top you follow your family downstairs.
“Morning birthday girl,” Jared greets you with a smile.
“Morning, I hear you are cooking breakfast,” you reply, sitting down on a kitchen stool next to Tom.
“I made your favorite, blueberry pancakes and a cup of hot chocolate.  Gen says you need to go all out for birthdays, so she cooked some orange cinnamon rolls.”
“Wow, thanks guys.”
Tom hops down and runs off all of a sudden, you look to the other two in the kitchen, both of them shrugging.  Then you hear his little feet running back.  “I made you a card,” he yells out, as he waves it in front of you.
“You did, thanks buddy.”  
You enjoy a nice breakfast, before going up to shower and get yourself ready for the day.  Throwing on shorts and a tank top, you throw a few makeup things in a bag you might need if you have to dress up later to go out.  After saying your goodbyes you leave for Jensen’s.  Gen is sure to remind you of her offer again.
You pick up a few things around the house, water the plants and go through a few of your things.  Your phone has gone off multiple times with text messages from friends, your parents have called, but no Jensen.  Changing into your bathing suit you go out back to lay in the sun until you hear something.
Your phone rings as you are walking into the house for a cold glass of water, “Hi Donna, how are you?” you greet Jensen’s mom on the other end of the line.
“Happy Birthday, sweetie.  I’m fine, how is your day going?”
“It’s good.  I’m just hanging out at Jensen’s house right now.”
“Are you doing anything special today?”
“I don’t know.  Jensen just told me that he had meetings today, I think he’s hiding his plans.”
“He left this morning, but didn’t tell us what his plans were.  I hope you have a wonderful day. Alan wants to talk to you, I’ll talk to you later.  Love you sweetie, happy birthday again.”
“Thank you Donna!  I’ll talk to you soon, enjoy your weekend.”
Alan gets on the phone next to wish you a happy birthday, you talk to him for a few minutes before wishing him an early happy Father’s Day and saying your goodbyes.
A short time later another call comes through, “Hey,” you answer.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!” is yelled from the other end of the line.
“Thanks Mack, how are you?”
“I’m good.  Wasn’t sure if you were going to answer, or if you were busy with my brother.  I’m glad I caught you.  How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.  I haven’t seen your brother yet, I’m just hanging out at the house right now.  How is that new husband of yours?”
“He’s good.’
 “Any big summer plans?”
“Not really.  We need to get together soon.  When do you wrap that mini series you’re doing?”
“We finished last week, I’m out of work until Walker starts.”
“Okay, we definitely need to figure something out then.  I won’t keep you.  Have a fabulous birthday, talk soon.  Bye girl.”
“Thanks.  Bye Mack, take care.”
You get off the phone with a smile. You and Mackenzie weren’t too far apart in age, and had always gotten along very well.   
As you are walking back outside, another text comes in.  Looking down, you are quickly disappointed to see it isn’t Jensen.  As long as you have been together, if he isn’t with you in the morning he has always been the first phone call you would receive in the morning. 
Another hour passes and it’s almost 2 o’clock now.  Gen’s name comes across your screen as your phone lights up again.
“Hey, just to see if you know your plans for the night yet.”
“I don't know. He's not here, and I haven’t talked to him today.”  You refuse to call him at this point.
“You haven’t heard anything?  Y/N, come back here and hang out with us.  He can find you when he comes to town, but I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Alright.” 
Grabbing your things, you lock the house back up and make the short drive back to your brother's place.  Jared and Tom are out in the pool when you arrive and Gen is waiting for you in the house.  She gives you a big hug when you walk in.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, peachy.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, there is nothing to discuss.  I’m beginning to think he really did have some meetings today.  I’m not going to call and force him to talk to me.  Besides, if he doesn’t answer, it’s just going to frustrate me more.
You spend the afternoon with them, your parents arrive early in the evening.  Somehow you miss Jared sneaking out to get you a cake and your favorite ice cream.  Dinner is ordered from your favorite Italian restaurant.  You open your present from your parents.  Once Tom goes to bed the adults gather in the living room to watch a movie.
Gen catches you when you are walking out of the living room.  “This is from Jared and I. We got it a few days ago, but I wasn’t sure you would want to open it in front of your parents.”
 Taking the envelope from her, you carefully tear it open.  You laugh when you open it.  Disney princesses are around the number 5 on the front.
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“Your brother picked out the card.  I made him put the ones about unicorn farts back.”
That has you snorting, “Sounds like Jared.”
You open the card and a plane ticket falls out, you look up at Gen.
“Jared called Eric last week to see when Jensen might have a lighter filming schedule.  He gave him those dates, it’s next weekend.  We weren’t sure how long you would want to stay, so it’s just four days right now, but you can change your return flight.  I really hope this helps you two straighten everything out.”
“Thank you.  I really hope so too.”
When you are getting ready for bed, your phone dings again.  Checking the notification you see Jared has tagged you in an Instagram post.  It’s a birthday message from him and Gen with some pictures from the day.  You scroll down the home feed and see Jensen also has a new post from today.  It’s not the usual birthday shout out he has done in the past, but a picture of him along with his friend Steve.  The caption underneath says `Good time catching up with an old friend, making big plans.’
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That must be a nod to the record Jared had mentioned.  Closing your phone, you lay down and try to fall asleep.  It’s a bit of a struggle. Your mind is racing with many thoughts tonight.  After the last few months, should you really be surprised how today played out?  How is your trip up to Toronto going to go?  Will it help fix your relationship, or be the end?
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 5
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clementinegreye · 6 months
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clementinegreye's masterlist and navigation station:
REQUESTS: OPEN!
you can make requests or simply come chat to me; here
💌 hotd:
🪩 aemond targaryen
the end of love || 1.1k
aemond cheating on his wife is not cool - but it can be poetic when he’s filled with regret.
adoration and resentment (coming soon - currently on Ao3 and going through a re-write!)
lover you should've come over (modern!aemond x brothers best friend reader. coming soon!)
💌 criminal minds:
🍋 aaron hotchner
the sweetest sin of all || 3.4k
the sweetest sin of all (part 2) || 2.6k
who'd have thought aaron hotchner was a man so consumed by longing (lightly inspiredin the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):
🌷spencer reid
safer dreams || 2.3k
it's not easy to keep someone safe in your nightmares, something Spencer knows all too well.
false god || 1.2k
it's never a good idea to reminisce about a relationship, especially one that ended with betrayal left you with a permanent scar
some stuff about me and my writing below the line:
about me: hi! my name’s soph, im 23 and an aquarius.
some quick fire facts about me; i’m a cat person, i have a chronic illness, get anxious a lot and my favourite show is criminal minds (in case you couldn’t tell), im trying to get back into reading this year, i have an abnormal amount of jellycats (yes the soft toys) and i love fruit (all fruit)! 🍋‍🟩🍓🍒🍊
i’ve been writing since i was 15 and i’ve been posting my work for a few years now, albeit under different blogs and i post some of my stories on Ao3, which i’ll link below.
writing/requests notes and guidelines:
i currently only write for criminal minds and hotd. i’m happy to write angst, fluff, hurt/comfort etc. just be specific in the ask what you’d like and i can try accommodate it!
i use she/her pronouns and therefore feel comfortable writing from that perspective (or gender neutral). i’m hesitant to write male!reader as i don’t want to inaccurately portray something i have no experience with.
as a guideline i definitely won’t write anything containing rape, hardcore incest or child abuse, non-consensual sex or anything including minors or those underage. i am also hesitant to write really abusive situations.
i’ve never written smut but, i guess i could give it a go. if you’re request it and i don’t write it, i’m probably not comfortable with it. 🌷☁️🐚
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you can also find my work here on Ao3:
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youhideastar · 2 years
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For the WIP title ask game: Alpha WWX Fertility Nonsense.docx please
Thanks for asking! For those following along at home, this is in reference to this post. So the file with that name is the long-promised sequel to And these are all for you; basically, there was this question that Wei Wuxian in that fic had for Lan Wangji (these characters have minds of our own): “Is there anything alpha-Wei-Wuxian has that you want? Like, that you want from me as an alpha, not just—Wei Wuxian?” That discussion ended up not fitting/making sense in the original fic, but I thought it was a really interesting question, and I still wanted to talk about it! Even more so when it turned out the answer was going to lead to some top-notch smut. 😂 It’s still in rough draft, but here’s the first scene (which does not contain top-notch or any other smut, alas):
Wei Wuxian has many flaws. And one of the big ones is that he just cannot leave well enough alone.
Here he is, in Lan Zhan’s bed, in Lan Zhan’s arms, with the moonlight filtering in—and instead of gratefully drifting off to sleep, he has to open his stupid mouth.
“Lan Zhan…”
“Mn?”
“When I asked what I provide for you.”
Beat.
“The—joy, and challenge, and purpose… those are all things… anybody could provide.”
“No,” Lan Zhan says immediately. He does not raise his voice, but it’s definitive like a closing door.
And… yeah, that wasn’t the best way to put it.
“Not anybody,” Wei Wuxian amends. “But—those weren’t things that—that an alpha, specifically, would give you.”
Beat.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan says – one of his “mn”s of agreement.
“And I… and that’s okay, obviously! I just, ah.” Beat. “I want to—this is stupid, but I—do you like that I’m an alpha? Do you care about it at all?” He doesn’t even know what answer he wants.
Beat. Lan Zhan does him the courtesy of considering it.
“I do not think I understand the question,” he says carefully.
That’s fair.
“I guess I mean… it doesn’t seem like you’re thinking I’ll… provide for you, like, materially. The way an alpha traditionally would. Which is good because I can’t,” and that hurts to admit, which is where part of this is coming from. “But do you—is there anything alpha-Wei-Wuxian has that you want? Like, that you want from me as an alpha, not just—Wei Wuxian who’s your mate?”
That’s probably not any more coherent than the last question, but Lan Zhan seems to understand it anyway. He nods and says, “Mn.”
Wary, hopeful. “Yeah? Really?” Well, Lan Zhan wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, he knows that. What he really wants to ask is: “Um, what is it?”
“Wei Ying’s knot.”
Beat where WWX is light-headed. They didn’t do anything sexy tonight because Lan Zhan was still worn out from his heat, but wow. Wow.
“Wei Ying’s rut.”
Is it hot in here?
“And…” LWJ’s eyes cut to the side. “Wei Ying’s get. If Wei Ying is willing.”
WWX just about explodes. He wasn’t expecting that at all. He hides his face. “Lan Zhan! You’ve already given me one beautiful son. How can I ask for more?”
“Wei Ying does not ask. I ask.” Beat. “Only if—if it would bring Wei Ying joy.”
Beat.
“You’re serious.”
“Mn.”
Soft, disbelieving. “You really… you really want to bear for me?”
“I want to bear and raise children with Wei Ying.”
Beat.
“Well, I… I guess that’s something I can provide.” Wei Wuxian is kind of chuffed by that. He can give Lan Zhan a baby! That’s pretty good! Then the doubt creeps in. “Unless—I don’t know,” he realizes. “I don’t know if I can, I can’t imagine all that resentful energy is good for—what if I can’t? What if I can’t even give you that?” Quick beat of WWX self-worth spiraling. “If I can’t even give you a child, you have to—you have to find another mate—”
“No.”
“Lan Zhan—”
“If you cannot sire a child, we will get one the traditional way.”
“The traditional way?!”
“Adopt an orphan we meet on the streets of Yiling.”
BEAT – WWX GETS IT.
“Lan Zhan, stop being so funny! This isn’t a joke—”
“You would care for the child?”
“Of course I would—”
“Feed them, bathe them, keep them from harm?”
“Of course—”
“Give them your love – embrace them and praise them and teach them right from wrong?”
“I don’t know if I’m qualified to do that last part.”
“But you would try?”
Quick beat. Muttered: “I would try.”
Satisfied: “Wei Ying provides well for our family.”
Our family.
“Lan Zhan!” WWX wails.
Lan Zhan makes no retort – just radiates smugness. He thinks he’s won, apparently.
He probably has.
It’s not like Wei Wuxian can deny him anything.
“Wei Ying should sleep,” Lan Zhan rumbles. “His rut is coming.” MEANINGFUL STROKE. “He will need his strength.”
Wei Wuxian shivers. “Shameless,” he mutters.
But he’s pretty sure Lan Zhan means it. So he curls up against Lan Zhan’s side again and tries to sleep. It doesn’t take long.
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visionofhope04 · 3 years
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Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason
This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!
This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!
f/n = friend name
Y/G/N = your group name
N/S = news station
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5
---
You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.
Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.
So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.
It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.
The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.
You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.
Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.
Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.
He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?
Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?
Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.
He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?
Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.
He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.
“What do you want Demon Spawn?”
“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”
“You mean my sister?”
“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.
“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”
“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.
“She’s not here.”
“Then where is she?”
“Not here.”
“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”
“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.
“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because I demand to know!”
“Okay and?”
“Tell me!”
“No.”
“Why not!”
“Because you don’t even care.”
“And you do?”
“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.
“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.
“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.
“...” Was Damian’s reply.
“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.
Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.
---
It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.
Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.
You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.
However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.
“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”
You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”
“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”
“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”
“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”
“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”
“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”
“Yes, it is true.”
“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”
“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”
“You’re saying it in the past tense.”
“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”
“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”
“No family is actually perfect.”
“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”
“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”
“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)
---
Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.
He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?
He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.
---
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Text
Whiskey Sour Part 2 (of 3!)
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Where Jeb gathers some courage (and more)
Part 1 here
I didn't expect to continue it but this needs an epilogue - I'll post it as soon as I find a way to not cry too much. Damn Jeb.
Words: 3700
Warnings: uh lots and lots of #smut this time!
Relationship: Jeb Magruder / OFC (You)
Cover made using works by @plainlo-inthemorning and @giuliajrosa-blog thank you!
“And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope
It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat”
Shake it out
There are so many things you learn by simply sharing a small space with a naked man, you have noticed.
Take Jeb, for instance. He allowed himself to be undressed without resistance, his eyes downcast and his hair ruffled, and just asked if you could stay with him once he was led into the bathroom.
The tremulous voice contrasts with the imposing figure. You're so close to him that you can count the tiny moles on his tanned back, brush against his rosy nipples, tickle the thick dark hair of his groin.
You could reach out and caress his long thighs or his still tumid sex.
He could take you back to bed and finish what he has badly begun, and you could not resist.
Instead all he asks is that you not leave him alone to melt in a puddle of his own embarrassment, this stranger who has reappeared in your life like a spring-loaded puppet and won't stop bouncing in and out of your heart.
You feel sticky with sex and guilt. A bath will only do you good.
You rinse each other’s hair, and sponge each other’s back. His palms linger on your breast, and his eyes refuse to meet yours when your hand lingers on him.
Slowly, he even finds his voice again.
His Jack-in-the-box brilliant tune, excited and apologizing all in one sentence. You tease him.
“You should have told me you’re such a lightweight”
“Oh hang on I’m not – “
“Here, another sip.”
“It’s disgusting”
“Yes, and it works. How do you think I passed my mother’s inspection with flying colors every Sunday roast all these years?”
“Because you were a well-behaved young citizen?”
“Guess again.”
“I might have idealized you.”
“Oh yeah? Did you think about me?
“You know I did. Do. Did.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“Baby.”
“Yeah?”
“How’s your head?”
“It will be better in a minute, just…hold me a little more?”
“Sure babe.”
“Please…don’t call me babe.”
“And how should I call you Mr. Magruder?... What was that?”
“I Don’t - just my name? Is that ok?”
“OK. Jeb?”
“Yes?”
“How did you think of me?”
“What do you –“
“You said you did think of me – how, precisely, did you think of me? I wanna know”
For a long minute, Jeb wants to cradle himself in your embrace and fall asleep there, wet cheek on soft breast, your fingers racking through his unruly locks. He likes being like that, naked and stuck to each other, bathed in the dim light that filtered through the mist-clouded bathroom window. He was quickly sobering up, and the panic of the first moments was subsiding to a tenderness he was not quite sure he liked. Albeit with some contortions, you kneeled on the slippery bottom of the porcelain bathtub to run your fingers through his damp locks, and he enveloped you in a soppy embrace, hands running up and down your back, shoulder muscles tense and stiff.  
“I can’t tell you.”
Once he wriggles from your embrace, Jeb's face is a mask of embarrassment and contained panic. You press your fingers into his scalp and tickle the sensitive area behind his ears, eliciting muffled laughter.
Blue eyes adorned with lashes as dark as a deer’s (you decide to keep that image to yourself) blink a couple of times.
“What are you afraid of?”
Jeb’s gaze turns into a stormy sky
“I don’t know. You - laughing at me?”
“I won’t. What else?”
“That you look at me like I’m some sort of – weirdo. I don’t know.”
“I will not mock you. I’ll even close my eyes if that’s what you want.”
For the first time since you have undressed him and sobered him up in the cool shadow of the hotel’s little tub, Jeb reacts to your words with a tone of voice other than whiny. Either your order of a mix of lemonade, egg white, and a dash of whiskey you placed on the phone is finally working or something has finally stirred up Jeb’s attention.
God, you hope so.
Jeb’s voice is an octave lower when he starts talking again, and that’s enough to run a little shiver down your spine. If only he knew how goddamn sexy he is. Not in a parody of femininity, but uniquely his, open vulnerability blending with the attractive features of a man in his prime, so eager to please but also too scared to speak out loud about his desires. Oh well, who is idealizing who now?
Jeb’s face is almost totally hidden in the cleft of your breasts so that you can only hear his voice, and it would be endearing if it wasn’t that it comes outweighed by a faltering tone.
“Could you do that…close your eyes? And keep them shut?”
“Is that it?”
It takes more courage than he thought able to gather, but he does it anyway. He nods in your chest.
“Please?”
There’s something in the way his hands have stopped caressing your back and rest firm, fingers gripping the cushy flesh of your hips, that makes you hesitate for a moment. After all, it hasn't even been an hour since the lousy performance that almost made you want to leave him to sober up alone...until you saw the tears pooling at the edge of Jeb's eyelashes with startling rapidity. Now it was too late to regret that gesture of compassion.
“Whatever you want Jeb.”
You could feel Jeb’s breath increasing its speed and warmth as you pronounced the innocent sentence and closed your eyes, but you almost immediately broke your promise when, with sudden strength, he pushed you up, making you stand, dripping wet and naked, in the lukewarm puddle of your domestic lagoon.
“You promised ok? No looking.”
You had no time to articulate a proper answer because he had started stroking your legs, paying attention to every curve and bight, cupping the rear of your knees and the back of your thighs, pulling you gently towards him. He seemed content to just do that, caressing your goosebump skin with tenderness, like it was the first time he looked at a naked woman so closely. It surely can’t be, you thought, in the opaque darkness behind your closed eyelids, as you tried to predict his next move. An inquisitive tongue circling your belly button roused a spark of laughter, that died in a moan when Jeb’s mouth moved southern, nibbling at the soft vellum on your Venus mount. The only reason you hadn't lost your balance yet was that Jeb's arms encircled your sides, strong hands that you remembered well grasping and gripping your flesh so tightly that you could already feel the imprints forming on your skin flushed by the damp heat. Jeb’s voice hoarse but steady, glaring excitement against your skin.
“Don’t worry - I won’t let you fall. Can you open your legs a little more – please?”
The soft-spoken plea was the only part of the sentence that reminded you that it was your Jeb, timid Jeb, the one exploring the most tender part of your body with implacable enthusiasm. When you complied, trying not to stumble in the narrow space of the bathtub, his tongue lapped a long band of skin immediately adjacent to your sensitive spot, repeating the movement on the other side, and then carefully biting the smooth velvet of your inner thigh.  
Finding the bathroom wall with one hand you steadied yourself while Jeb’s mouth continued his careful exploration of your core, breathing warm and heavy, while his hands didn’t ease up the firm grasp of your sides.
Keeping your eyes closed was more difficult than you had imagined, partly due to the dizziness but mostly was the maddening curiosity of watching Jeb’s face. Little, short huffs came from where his face connected to your sex. He knew what he was doing, you already had proof of that, but now he was basking in you like a starving man who was given something juicy – not a drop of you had to be wasted.
The rhythm didn’t falter from steady and languid, each stroke a slow savoring of your flesh, alternated by nibbling and sucking your inner thighs, clit, belly, and even hips. When his tongue dared to move deeper into your entrance you let go a frustrated groan and grasped at his locks, eliciting soft laughter.
“You – you like this?”
“Jesus -  yes Jeb, I like it.”
He prompted a stamp kiss on your belly, a joyous gesture, accompanied by a gentle pat on your ass.
“Can you put your leg on my shoulder? If that’s alright?”
For how happy you are to accomplish his request, you seriously start to worry about slipping and breaking an arm or worse – the tiny bathtub is barely containing Jeb’s conspicuous size and your smaller one, even if with some twisting.
“Can we get out of here first?”
He's on you in a moment, circling your torso in his embrace, and in a swift move, you’re transported to the wooden floor. Another proof, if you needed one, that he was stronger than he looked.
You are quickly wrapped and dried in a rough towel with gentle strokes.
"I’m sorry I didn’t think you must have been uncomfortable - are you cold? Are you okay?"
You can't help but open your eyes at the tenderness in his voice, calling yourself stupid for the tingle you feel rising in your throat.
Jeb's face is so close to yours that you can smell the breath of bourbon and lime and notice the little wrinkles of apprehension carved into the large muzzle of the good dog you absolutely must kiss if you don't want the heat rising in your chest not to burst.
It's a good kiss. You forgot how sweet it can be to kiss someone who takes all the time in the world. What is the opposite of devouring?
Savoring.
And with the taste comes the heat, beating heart of desire.
You feel it.
He feels it. He hesitates for a moment more though.
"Do you still agree? All I want?"
You nod your assent into the curve of his neck where you are tracing a trail of kisses.
"Stay here then."
The towel lands on the floor but no one cares. You hear him rasping in the adjacent room and then his panting in your ear. He shows you what he is holding in his hand and you instinctively hold your breath.
"Tell me to stop and I'll pause at any time."
You nod confidently, not knowing exactly what you are agreeing to. Not that you care. where else do you have to go?
Jeb's tie is of soft, dark fabric, and it almost totally blocks out the light. The knot is redone only once -"tighter." You heard his heartbeat noisily as he did it again.
The darkness makes you more aware even of your own nakedness. The still damp hair clings to your neck and shoulders, and sudden dizziness assails you when you try to take a step. Strong, sure hands catch you on the fly.
"The door is in front of you. The wall to your right."
You follow the voice with small, hesitant paces, hands stretched forward until you meet Jeb's bare chest in what can be none other than the bedroom. You feel him sit down on the edge of the bed, then a hand caresses your thigh to your side, to stop there. It is in a firm tone you have never heard him use before that Jeb issues the first order.
"Turn around."
A small twitch in his hand, before he sees you smiling and execute, giving him your back. Both palms caress your thighs and back, lingering on the soft pad of your hips.
"There's the desk in front of you - can you - could you..."
You smirk, and keep your tone of voice as detached as you can as you answer:
"Anything you want Jeb." You can hear him shift on the bed and emit a hoarse groan as you bend over. What you don't expect is to be left suddenly, and to hear the sound of his footsteps as he turns around you.
You are aware that you are being watched, and carefully observed, and a wild instinct takes you without warning: you arch your back and lick your lips, conscious of Jeb's gaze fixed on you.
In the darkness the weight of your breasts waiting to be grazed is heavier, and the tiny drops of water sliding down your neck waterfalls, and the pulsing stickiness pooling in your sex unbearable.
You are being LOOKED at, and it is bloody exciting.
A finger brushes from the nape of your neck to your groove, sinking into your sex, and that's enough to make you think you're about to come.
"Like that."
Despite the provocation, it is a small shock to feel Jeb's hands come to rest beside yours on the desk and his torso cling to your back, the underside of his erect sex snuggling between your legs, which are spread further apart by an imperious knee. The voice in your ear booms in your sternum and vibrates to your core.
"I'm sorry - I'm still a little, oh God, drunk, and you're beautiful, and I want to watch you come. And I want to be the one to do it. Me doing it to you. That's what I want. And I also want you to tell me exactly what you like and how and - tell me how."
There are no words to describe the effects those words have in the echo chamber of your amplified sensitivity, and while a large hand is caressing your back, every cell of your body is electrified and begging for attention. And he has just started touching you.
“I think you know exactly what you want.”
A hesitation – “But what if I want you – to ask me?”
Lower lower the prodigious fingers caress and tickle, pull and smack, eliciting moans and hiccups of restrained pleasure.
“I want…” A tip-off bite “God Jeb – I want you to fuck me.”
“How?” The tip of a finger circling a nipple. The underside of his cock against your thigh
“Oh god yes – against the wall, is that ok?” Another finger travels south and press against your entrance
“How?” A shallow dipping in and out makes you wonder what the hell has possessed Jeb – and how to keep it coming.
“With your cock, pick me up and fuck me, please.”
Without even a grunt, you’re flipped and lifted in the arms of Jeb, and the rough surface of the plaster presses against your back. You have instinctively lifted your legs to circle Jeb’s waist, but his hands are quicker to cup your cheeks and help your spreading sex to welcome the head of his cock.
Gripping Jeb’s neck in a way you know it’s gonna hurt tomorrow, you let out an animalistic moan while he slowly enters you, the angle not allowing a deep thrust but pressing deliciously against your spot.
He's still big. He’ll always be, and he’s already throbbing – so he steadies himself, letting you adjust to the new position.
“Is that what you want?”
The little nod you shape with your head must suffice because he starts immediately to fuck your brain out for what it feels like an hour while it must (must as you repeat yourself) have been for only few minutes, each thrust pushing as deep as he can, which is already too much and not enough since you can’t move to meet his movements, in this balancing act where you trust him completely and he takes what he wants, until you start feeling a well-known tide starting to rise, higher and higher, and your nails are leaving a mark you have no idea how is he going to explain later to Gail, and the thought of it makes you sick but it’s also exhilarating – this beautiful man wearing turtlenecks in the summer heat to hide them.
“Tell me everything you feel”
The spark he ignited is phenomenal and a deluge comes out of your parted lips – how perfectly he fills you, how good he feels, the way you have always wanted this, being taken, wanted, savored bite by bite, how he’s giving you all of those and how much you want him not to stop please don’t stop not now that you are so close…
Your back is starting to hurt and you know you’ll have scratches too – matching signs for playing with fire.
There’s no way to hide the kaleidoscope of delight on your face as the dam breaks and Jeb’s hands bring your flushed hips so close to his you see stars in the black sky that surrounds you as you keep diving in long waves.
“Yes, yes, like that – so beautiful.”
Soft murmurs and kisses wrap around you while he takes you down and lay together on the bed. He’s still very hard and very much all inside you, and you protest a little when he tries to slip out. It must be this unnatural darkness, you lazily ponder, that treacherously tears at you sounds of protest that to your ears sound like childish wailing - but in the darkness, you have lost all shame.
Someone is murmuring your name. What is it?
“Don’t fall asleep, babe – can you stay with me a little more?”
Your answer must sound funny because Jeb’s body is squirming on top of you and a twinge of low laughter strikes your ears – and your mind is not completely lost yet because you gather the strength to hoist yourself on hands and knees and you are completely awake when two long fingers fondle your crease.
It's his turn to tell you how soft you feel under his touch and how your eyes spark a little brighter when you talk of something that you like or you laugh at your father’s silly jokes and how much he liked that serious expression when you were lost in thoughts – how calm you made him feel looking at you without you noticing.
The color of your eyes when the sun shines on you and when it’s dark.
The way you walk in a busy street – how people parted as you pass by.
Your refusal to wear anything that isn’t bright and colorful.
And how much he envied you being comfortable in the spotlight.
His sun.
His sunshine.
He doesn’t talk of Gail. This is not the time.
Fingers leave a paved way and now you’re begging to be filled again, twisting and twitching under his spread palms.
You almost howl when he carefully enters you again.
“What do you want?”
“Make me come again.”
It's a plea and an order. His hips start bucking steady and fast, hands keeping your hips up and lifted while the rest of your body goes limp against the mattress. Each trust is deliberately slow, in the iron grip of his fingers you can just submit to his pacing – you know he’s rapt looking at your cunt stretching around his shaft, curly hairs moist and sticky getting wetter with your fluids – he’s ecstatic. He has imagined this so many times.
He’s a man.
You reach back with both hands to spread yourself even further.
“Look” you command, and the groan he emits is borderline delirious.
Eventually, your legs give up and he’s flat on top of you, but he’s quick at reaching your front and starts circling your bud with one hand. The other rests on your shoulder to hold you tighter (to impale you better, you tell yourself. Where did he learn this trick? Do you wanna know?) and murmurs softspoken praises in your cheek.
“Is this how you imagined it?”
He doesn’t answer but he rubs you harder and he makes you cry out of pleasure. You’re still high from before, you need more to go back to that height, it’s like attempting to fly with cold feet – you need an extra push and you try to tell him that.
“I want to take charge.”
It's the last thing you were going to ask him, but you do it anyway. You almost sob when he doesn’t even flinch and lets you pull out of him and crawl on his lap.
You want to make him feel good.
You tell him. He stays still for a moment.
“Everything you want.”
The stretch is exquisite this time. Pressed tight against his chest you nibble at his neck and rub your breasts against his chest, glued to every inch of his body you can reach, eager to keep everything as close to you as you can.
You’re not completely sure but you think you have heard yourself saying “You’re mine, mine, mine” to which he answered, “Always, baby, always.”
He holds your hips rocking in his but lets you set the rhythm.
He doesn’t protest when you cover his eyes with your palms. Fair play. You’re his as much as he’s yours today.
His steadfastness falters only when he feels you flutter and tighten around him, and your moans turn into real howling – then he tosses your hands from his eyes, he wants to see your face transformed in ecstasy.
While you’re still high he presses you back on the mattress, kissing and grabbing at your breasts, lips, neck, hips, ruthlessly taking his pleasure and spilling inside you in long spurts.
Limbs tangled together and hearts beating in unison you fall asleep, as lovers do.
Epilogue coming soon
Tagging! @girlwiththenegantattoo @agirlinherhead @littleredwritingcat @jyngerpeach @choosekindly @chronic-ghost @pegplunkett @vintageglassheart02 @supplanther @plainlo-inthemorning @aherdofbees @ebiemidnightlibrarian @sanzpool-world
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raibebe · 4 years
Text
Of needles and seduction
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Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex
A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”
You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.
“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.
With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.
“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.
“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”
“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.
“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.
“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.
“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”
“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.
“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.
“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”
When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.
“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.
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The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.
After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.
You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.
When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.
“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.
“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”
After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.
“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.
“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.
“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.
The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”
After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.
“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.
“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.
All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)
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Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.
The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.
A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”
Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”
“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.
After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.
So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.
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The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.
“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.
“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.
The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.
“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.
“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.
“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.
“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.
Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.
Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.
“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.
“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.
With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.
You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.
God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.
With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.
“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.
“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.
For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.
“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  
“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.
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fangirl-everythang · 3 years
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Last Nerve H.S
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Summary: Harry x Reader; Harry chooses a particularly rough day to be extra clingy leading to some events...
Warnings: Swearing, Oral Sex, Sex, Spit
Word Count: 1530
Today was not the fucking day. It started this morning when Harry decided my sleep was more important than my 8 am board meeting, so he turned off the alarms. All of them. And guess who was late to one of the MOST important days of their career. That's right you guessed it, me.
Not only that but he's just constantly clinging to me from the moment I woke up in a panic to the moment I stepped foot through the door. I couldn't even take my shoes off without him near me. I love him but Jesus fuck.
I groan as I hear the handle in the bathroom giggle. "Yes, Harrold?" I huff. 
"I just wanted to see you love."
"You've seen me literally all day" I sigh opening the door. "Actually, no I haven't." He smiles cheekily rubbing my side. I just roll my eyes and pad back to the bedroom. Unbuttoning my top and tugging my pants down. "How was work?" He asks from the bed.
"How do you think it was Harry?" Attitude prominent in my tone as I switch my shirt.
"Not bad?" He questions. I huff in annoyance as I turn to go downstairs but none the less, he follows. "So, was it bad?"
I just nod patience with him thinning incredibly fast. "Like bad or bad bad?"
"Bad bad Harry." He pouts and embraces me. "And all better now?"
Walk away. Walk away. "I'm gonna go pick dinner up, do you want anything?" He frowns "Why are you leaving to go pick the pizza up when they deliver?" He ask.
"I need the walk." And with that I head out before he can get another sound out.
-----25minutes later----
I think I'm okay. For now at least. Putting my key in the door and carrying the semi cold pizza in the other, I know one of two things may have happened when I left. The first being that he is mad or he's waiting. And I hope it's the first option.
"There you are, I thought you got lost." He sighs in relief.
"Its only three blocks away please calm your titties." He grins and I can't help but to smile back.
The pizza isn't half bad and where do you go wrong with old Friends re-runs. After we finish the show is still playing but Harry isn't paying it nearly as much attention as the hand he's holding. " You know I love you."
"I know Harrold." He just pouts
"You don't love me?" He asks pulling me into his lap discarding the remote.
"I do Harry, I really do but and I mean this in the nicest possible way, you're getting on my last nerve today."
He chuckles and points to himself, "Me? getting on your last nerve?" The aura in the room shifts, his eyes a deeper shade of green. Going to move from his lap he just places his hand on my hip.
"Where do you think you're going darling?" Before I could speak he just continues playing with my panty line.
"You know technically... " he says slowly with lingering hands. I feel my body shudder as his long fingers brush over my clit. "This is your last nerve." He continues rubbing the small nub through my panties, "I don't know about getting on it per say, but I'm sure there are other things I could do." When he halts his movements a whine escapes my lips with a sudden urge for him to make me cum. "Harry don't be a tease please."
"Tell me what you want y/n." He says smirking. "Shirt off Harrold." He grips the bottom of my shirt "nuh-uh Haz" he looks at me confused. "Yours." He quickly pulls his shirt over his head exposing his beautifully tatted body. I can feel my pussy dripping, but he knows better. Grabbing my shirt, I slowly take it off as he lets out an animalistic growl. Pulling my panties down while he watches I make my way to the arm of the couch as he hurriedly removes his pants and lays in front of me. Spreading my legs I run a finger through my folds he looks at me hungrily. Before I could speak to taunt him his lips where on my pussy .
"Fuck Harry, I didn't tell you to do that." I say between pants. He moans continuing to bury himself between my legs showing no mercy. His tongue teasing my hole. A string of moans and curse words leaving my lips and right now I'm praising this couch. He loops his arms around my thighs holding me in place as he continues to devour me, leaving no part of me untouched. Leaning on my elbows to watch him I feel myself nearing my edge as he looks at me. The sounds his mouth is making against my vagina is unholy for sure. He takes his thumb and presses random patterns onto my nub and I'm done for. My hands pulling his hair as my thighs clench around his head moaning out his name. He keeps kitten licking me as I come down from my high. "Harry." He raises an eyebrow while looking at my swollen labia "hmm?"
"Kiss me." He complies kissing me with force. I can taste myself on him as he pushes his tongue in my mouth. His hand comes up to my throat applying pressure not too much but enough to make me want more. He forces my head up, "open your mouth darling, and don't you fucking close it. Got it?" I nod expecting him to stand and put his dick in my mouth but boy was I wrong. He inserts two fingers into my mouth and as I begin to suck them he pinches my bum " I said don't close that pretty fucking mouth." He says putting more pressure on my tongue. He looks like he's contemplating something before I could question it I feel something sliding down my throat.
My thighs clench together almost instantly. Its nasty but he makes it so hot, his spit gliding down my throat I swallow it as if it were my own. "Good girl." He takes his thumb and wipes my chin. Pulling me back down to the couch level. Looking at his throbbing length, his tip is so pink leaking with precum. I reach between us and line him up with my entrance. He runs his tip through my folds tapping my clit with it. "Am I getting on your last nerve y/n?" He whispers. "Are you Harry?" I ask before attacking the spot just below his ear, leaving a reminder for the both of us.
Grabbing his length and pushing him into me I begin moving my hips as he lets out the sexist moan in my ear. "So wet y/n" he grunts pushing into me all the way almost leaving me breathless.
"So tight" he moans as I clench around him. He feels so good inside of me. Rhythm of his own being made as he speeds up his thrust. He dips his head on my shoulder and attacks my collar bone with kisses sure to leave very visible marks all over. The pleasure from his lips sending my senses into overdrive but I need him to come first. Reaching up to kiss him it's just teeth clattering and moans being exchanged.
"You fuck me so good Harry." I whisper in his ear as he gives out a particularly hard thrust causing both of us to moan loudly, hitting a spot that has dots fading into my vision.
"M'gonna cum baby" he tells me as I tighten around him he pushes into me reaching around to rub my clit, I quickly grab his hand and lace our fingers together as he bites down hard filling me with his cum pushing through sloppy thrust. Once he finishes, he looks up at me.
"You didn't cum." He frowns. I grab his cheeks and softly kiss him.
" I don't think you know how hard it was for me not to cum again." He looks at me skeptically, " and why is that?" he ask placing little kisses on my breast. "You'll see if you ever take your dick out of me." He smirks and roughly grabs my jaw, " Your pussy's mine." He slowly pulls out watching our arousal drip out of me "fuck y/n" He whispers.
"Finish me off Harry, use it." He smiles at my request "You're such a dirty girl for me aren't you princess" He leans down and runs his tongue over the bruise he left on me as his fingers gather our mixture and he spreads it on my clit. He rubs fast circles edging me on using his middle and ring finger he pumps them nearly knuckle deep, occasionally brushing over my g-spot, whispering sweet nothings in my ears. My orgasm ripples through my body sending me into a world of pure bliss. Coming down from this high left me panting he just smirks at me, playing with the arousal that now adorns my thighs.
"look at the mess you've made darling"
A/N: Long time no see, well I have said that I wanted to get back into writing so here you are my loves. I wanted to disclose that this is also on my Wattpad ( fangirl_everythang) which contains more of my work that I’ll be posting. I figured I could reach a bigger audience this way but the nerves are wrecking me; I’ve heard so many stories about authors getting their work taken. It’s heart breaking and makes it all that much more scarier.   I'm not too sure how I feel about this smut scene but I do think it embodies Harrold pretty well😊 Anyways let me know how you guys like it, or if you don’t. (I take request as well)
xoxoJanelle
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sciapod · 3 years
Text
Bathtub Photoshoot 💦
Pairing: Henry Cavill x First Person-POV (Female, or at least X wears a bra and has breasts)
Summary: Little private photosesh' with Henners and then some.
Warnings: Dry humping but let's just call it grinding. Edging. 18+ to be safe!! Contains smut. You might be able to find the tiniest bit of angst. And bit of fluff.
Word count: 2.5K
Not beta’ed! I take full responsibility for this fuckup.
Inspired/prompted by this post by @cavillfics
Masterlist
I obviously don't own Henry Cavill, nor do I know him IRL, so it goes without saying that this is a figment of my imagination.
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(I took the liberty to edit the photo just a bit and don’t know who to credit for the original edit. Let me know if you know, so I can give credit where it's due.)
Happy reading 💦
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“Babe, I've got an idea! Can you do something for me, please?”
When I heard you coming through the front door, I rushed to meet you there. You were finally home again and was hanging your jacket on the coat rack when I found you.
“Oh, well,” you reply, “I really want to just lean back, maybe take a shower or something. It’s been a long week, babe. And hello, by the way.”
You step over to me, reach around my waist and pull me against your firm body.
“Mhm, you smell lovely,” you whisper in my hair. I sigh, then wiggle myself free of your embrace.
“Henry, listen,” I look up at you with my best attempt at puppy eyes. You breathe deeply and turn your face, scratching mine with your stubble. It sends shivers through my body.
“Okay,” you hum as your hands roam my body, finding their way to my bare thighs then sneaking up beneath my robe, “tell me.”
I grab your hips and press my core against your thigh as I lean backwards, looking up at you, “I want to take some pictures … of you.”
Your face goes through a range of emotions; surprised, suspicious, smirking, friendly and finally incredibly charismatic: Front-page-style smile.
“That’s the one!” I say with excitement.
“Which one?” you tease, furrowing your brow and looking all suspicious again.
“You know perfectly well, you buffoon!” I say, as I slap your chest playfully.
My entire body lifts when you laugh. You kiss my forehead and twirl some of my hair between a few fingers. Your eyes shift, gazing at various areas of my face. I sigh, then reach for your hands, the one playing with my hair and the other, which I find gently caressing the lace of my panties.
I hold your hands between us and look up at my man.
“You do realize, of course, that you are basically a Greek god carved out of stone.”
“I have been told so, yes.”
“And you do realize that every artist needs a muse, a model, to create from.”
“I have a faint idea of that, yes,” you say, smirking down at me.
“And I happen to be short of a project, and subject, for my portfolio.”
“I see,” your smile broadens, “but what does that have to do with me?”
“Henry!”
My declining patience must have been obvious somewhere in my face or perhaps my exclamation, because you burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you do so. I can’t help but melt a little.
“Tell me what you need me to do, darling,” you say, stroking my hands with your thumbs. I feel warmth spread through my chest. Your face softens and I feel the warmth spread further down.
“Fuck,” I breathe, casting my eyes to the floor. I’m suddenly filled with all kinds of insecurities, imposter syndrome and such, but there’s a reason why you’re my man. You sense it immediately and lift my hands to your lips, kissing them sincerely.
“You’ve got this, babe.”
I sigh, “I know, sweetheart. It's just… Urgh.”
You kiss my forehead.
“Tell me your idea.”
“I…” My voice breaks. You lift my chin up with a single finger, as if it were suddenly light as a feather, forcing me to look into your striking blue eyes.
“I don’t know,” I finally exclaim. “I didn’t have a concrete idea. I just knew that I wanted you to be in the photos.”
You smile, almost apologetically, “Okay, look. I really want to help. But I’m so damn tired. I’ve got an idea, though, of how we may be able to hit two birds with one stone.”
“Okaay?” I say, a slight tinge of hope seeping into my core again.
“I need a bath–”
“–I can’t take a nude picture of you!”
You laugh again, but shake your head, “No, silly. Let me finish.”
My cheeks flush scarlet.
“I need a bath, but instead of taking a shower, I’ll jump in the tub. Once in there, you can have me do whatever you want.”
I squint my eyes, then see a lightbulb flash on.
“YES!” I almost yell, running my hands up your torso and leaning in for a kiss.
“Yes,” I repeat, then press my lips against your sculpted ones. It is as if your lips curl to a smile amidst the kiss.
“Yes,” I say one last time, meeting your eyes, “If you get the water running, I’ll collect my gear.”
Your hands go wandering about on my hips again, dragging my robe up and making my hairs stand on end. You look down at me with a confident smile, saying, “great minds think alike.”
I fight off the urge to kiss you again and instead draw away from you. You catch the waistband of my robe and it slides off as I step away, revealing the new set of lingerie I’m wearing underneath. I stand, looking at you with what I imagine is the expression of a suspicious feline. You, on the other hand, make a low whistle and shake your head in slow motion, clearly surprised and pleased to see what I was hiding beneath. Then you nod toward the living room, signalling I get on with finding my camera.
It takes me a few minutes to find the right lens. When I enter the bathroom, you’re in the process of unbuckling your belt. The tap is running and there’s already a bit of water in the tub.
“Wait,” I say, stopping you just as you’re about to pull your jeans down, “I think I want you in the water dressed.”
You stare for a moment, shrug, say “sure,” then proceed to tug your jeans over your perky bum again.
“Right, erm,” I think for a moment, “No, you know what? Lose the pants, but keep the t-shirt on.”
“Lose the pants,” you repeat and let your jeans fall to the floor. As you stand back up, I realize something.
“We might have a problem,” I say, eyeing the hefty bulge in your boxers.
You follow my gaze, noticing the same problem, then nod in agreement.
“But then again,” you say, “what did you expect, looking like that?” you hint at my open robe and lingerie.
We both shrug, then burst laughing.
“I guess we’ll just have to make it work!” I say, “Now, in the tub with you, buddy.”
You feel the temperature of the water and deciding that it’s decent, turn off the tap, step in and lie down. There’s not a lot of water in there, but I’m assuming it will do. You look up at me with anticipation, “Now what?”
I squint at you, finding the bulge slightly distracting, basically towering above the waterline like another Burj Khalifa. Obviously, you notice my lack of response.
“Hey, babe!” you say, snapping me out of it. I feel my nether region clench.
“Okay, okay!” I shake my head to wake up. You shake yours too, smirking at me.
“We need to do something about that,” I say.
“I can try to hide it?” you suggest.
“How?” I squint. It’s a mastodon of a package you has stored down there, I think to myself.
“Anyway, I need to find a position to photograph you from.”
I begin taking random photos of you from various angles and perspectives, simultaneously adjusting the settings on the camera as I do so. Meanwhile, you roll around to one side, then the other, then back again. The squeaking sounds of your body rubbing against the sides of the tub while you change poses makes the whole situation rather comedic, and I'm convinced you're doing it even worse on purpose. Determined to be somewhat professional, I try to ignore your distractions.
“It’s a good thing we have such good lighting in here,” I say, gazing around the small room, pretending to be focused and ignorant of your attempts at sabotage.
“How do you want me, babe? I feel like… I don’t even know? A fish out of water,” you say, doubting your own wording, “or something like that.”
I sigh, “I know, I get it. I need to think. We’ve also still got that… situation… going on.” I gesture at the, no less apparent, tent between your legs.
“Okay,” you say calmly, “I’ll just lie back and relax, while you think of something.”
“Good.”
As you settle into a comfortable position, I mentally run through the various “golden rules” of photography that I can remember.
Then it’s as if I notice the obvious. The absolute god-like adonis carved in marble in front of me: My initial inspiration. Your white t-shirt, soaked from all the turning and splashing around you did, is sticking to your chest and abs, enhancing the lines of your muscular torso, yet still in a perfectly suggestive fashion; somewhat similar to the drapery you see on these same sculptures. In a fit of impulse, I crawl up to stand on the edges of the tub.
You open your eyes –awoken by my scramblings– fear in your eyes as you reach for me, “be careful, babe!”
“No no, darling! Stay put!” I say, “I’m perfectly safe. It’s dry. My feet are dry. I’m stable, but thank you.” I smile, reassuringly. Suspicious yet accepting, you lower your arms and lie back down. I notice your eyes trail down my exposed body. Lust now clear as daylight in your gaze.
“I think I’ve got the photo soon, babe, then we’re done,” I explain. “Just close your eyes for me.”
You shake your head and smile, then do as I said.
Your head rests on the back of the tub, but your fingers begin fidgeting … around your nether region.
“Are you uncomfortable?” I ask between photos.
“No…” you smirk, eyes still closed, but you shift and rest your hands awkwardly on your stomach instead.
“We can’t have that,” I say, “you’re covering the main part of the photo,” I tease.
You open your eyes, still smirking but not saying a word.
“And you’re revealing, exposing, what we need to hide,” I try to hold back my laugh.
“Okay,” I continue, “what about… what if you hold your t-shirt at the hem and stretch it down to cover your crotch. Place your other hand casually beside it. Yeah, like that! Exactly, babe. Beautiful.”
I take a couple of photos and look at them on the tiny screen.
“Right, hold that pose, but just… kinda relax, if you can. I’ll take a few shots more and then you’re done!”
You close your eyes again and begin taking deep breaths, lessening the tension that must have been building in your shoulders over the last few days. As peace falls upon your face and body, I take the last photos. After quickly reviewing them on the tiny screen, I decide that I’m done. I turn off my camera and place it on the shelf above the tub before crawling down to sit on the edge of the tub, my feet in the water between your legs.
“Okay, it’s a wrap!”
Your eyes flash open and you let go of your t-shirt. The fabric bounces back, revealing your hairy tummy, teasing me. You look up at me with mischief, then give your member a squeeze.
“Get down here,” you say, almost ferocious in your voice.
I feel myself get all giddy with sudden anticipation as you rise like Poseidon from the water. Before I can do anything other than yelp, you pull me down onto you and with a splash and a thud I land against your rock-hard body. I'm instantly soaked.
“Finally,” you mutter, drenching my face and neck with hungry kisses. Your hands tease the collar of my robe before sliding it over my shoulders. Your eyes explore the curves of my upper body, then you adjust me so that I sit straddled upon you. You don’t speak a word, but your eyes and body say everything I need to know.
I feel your girth throbbing against me. You slide my robe all the way off and without taking your eyes off me, you cast it aside. Then your hands slide up my body. You cup my breasts tenderly, admiring the lace and how the new style of bra suits my breasts. You lick your lips as your thumbs begin stroking my hardening nipples. I sigh and begin grinding against the tip of your member.
You sit up and proceed to kiss and bite the flesh of my breasts. Gently holding the lace aside with your fingers, you capture my nipples between your teeth, ever so gently, before circling your tongue around them with exquisite attention. While squeezing my breasts together, you kiss them one after the other, back and forth, before venturing up to my collarbone and neck. All I can do is whimper and moan.
Then you grasp my hair, pulling my head back. Between kisses and bites on my exposed neck, you breathe damp, sultry words onto my skin. Expressions of how I’ve been a tease, how patient you’ve been and how much you want me now. I want to answer, but I can’t do anything but mutter incoherencies; your throbbing cock eagerly pressing against my core and thus stealing all of my vocabulary.
My breath quickens as I grind harder, cursing the fabrics that keep our cores from meeting, merging. Then you push me towards you, allowing our lips to meet in hungry kisses. My bra loosens. You must have managed to open and take it off me with your other hand, before also casting it aside. You grab at my liberated breasts, then sit up and pull your drenched t-shirt over your head. It lands on the bathroom floor with a splash. My hands instinctively seek the wet fur of your stomach and chest, momentarily squeezing your pecs, then wander south again.
Your eyes read pure hunger and you buck your hips. As I fall back down from the jump, my core meets the powerful strength of your pelvis, bucking yet again. I gasp, overcome by a mixture of arousal and humor. You buck again, a laugh escapes me and somehow, after a few times of this, you’ve managed to free your erection from your boxers. I didn’t notice, but at some point you must have turned on the tap again, because I see you turn it back off. I guess this increased level of water also explains the more slow-motion-like sensation I experience as I land back down on your pelvis; a somewhat softer landing than before. In my own defence, I was entranced and my mind was not functioning at 100%, hence the questionable description. Anyway, both our hips are now submerged under water and I simply shake my head at your mischievous ways. You smirk and pull me down to a deep kiss, slapping my ass through the water, making more water splash all over the place. Everything in the room is certainly wet by now.
I grind against your exposed and infinitely hard cock as your fingers slider under the lace. Your hands grab my cheeks with determination, enhancing the force and enabling you to better thrust against my grinding motion. The friction is causing short-circuits in my brain, making me see colours that aren’t there. My first climax is staggeringly near, but just before I get to release, you buck your hips again, making me scoot off your cock. A devious grin is smeared across your chiseled face.
“You had me waiting, sweetheart. Now it’s my turn to tease.”
---
Thanks for reading my shitpost! Please leave a comment of your thoughts, however nonsensical they may be 💜🙏
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mypoisonedvine · 4 years
Text
Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader
summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior.  unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.
word count: 4.7k
warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia
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this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.
Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.
“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.
“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”
His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease.  He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project.  “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch.  “What’s up?”
“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh.  Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent.  “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time?  Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day?  I miss that…”
You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his.  “Me too,” you admitted.  “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”
“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close!  You used to tell me everything.  And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”
Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue.  “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”
“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us.  And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”
Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away.  “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.
“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.
“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him.  He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you.  Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.
Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused.  “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”
“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.
“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it.  “Wanna guess what it was?”
You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most.  “I don’t know, Sam…”
“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen.  “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”
You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him.  “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education.  Not be a fucking slut.  Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans?  Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me.  Is this what you wanted?  Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”
Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry.  “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”
“Don’t call me that,” he sneered.  “How stupid are you?  Did you think these would stay private?  Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long.  How long have you been doing this, huh?  Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content.  Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you?  I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”
You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard.  You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party.  The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time.  For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother.  It was humiliating.
“And what about this one, huh?  How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit.  “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”
“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”
“Just stop talking.  I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head.  “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis.  The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”
Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.  
“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent.  You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun.  You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”
“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”
“You just fantasize about it.  And chat with strangers online about it.  And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”
You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”
He grinned and pulled you closer.  “Baby… I watched all of them.”
Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.
“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she’s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.
“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry.  I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”
“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account.  It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you.  Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can.  This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”
When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious.  “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”
“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear.  “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit?  ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”
Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.  
“Say it, then.  Like you said it in the video.”
“Sam, no—” 
“No?” he repeated incredulously.  “You can’t say no to me, honey.  Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought.  What are they gonna say to that?  Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out?  As if.  So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”
You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.  
“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”
Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.
“Then.  Fucking.  Say it.”
“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”
“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you.  When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts.  “I have needs too, sis.  Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock.  And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”
He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.  
“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”
It made you wince, but it made him laugh.  Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin.  When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.
“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned.  “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.”  He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp.  “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked?  You talk about it all the time.  You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”
“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.
“Then who did you think about when you got off?  Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed.  “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”
You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.
“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it?  Will you spread your legs for any cock?  Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”
Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned.  Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly.  “You, Sam, just you!”
He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss.  It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be.  But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra.  Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours.  Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength.  When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully.  “Wow, you really do like this.  Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”
He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.
“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis.  Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.”  He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”
Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted.  Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch.  He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.  
“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how.  Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”
After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt.  You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out.  And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly.  He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation.  You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.
“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”
“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine.  Just open your mouth, sis…”
He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.
“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do.  He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim.  “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”
When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.
“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling.  “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster.  The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened.  “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”
You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.
“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want.  Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”
Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.
“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed.  “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this?  Wow.”
A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head.  “Sam, stop, please…”
“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him.  “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”
Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck.  Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go.  And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance.  When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.
“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent.  “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh?  Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”
But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength.  Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one.  “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.
“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”
When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open.  He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.
“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh?  Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over.  I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”
He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.  
“Relax, sis, not today.  I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy.  Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse.  He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance.  You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.
He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal.  The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.
When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.
“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you?  Just from this.  You always came so fast in your videos…”
Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours.  You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.
“See, baby?  We were made for each other,” he cooed.  “You were made to take this cock.  You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”
You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch.  “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”
He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you.  Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.
Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh.  “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms.  It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him.  As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on.  “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused.  “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”
He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit.  You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped.  “S-Sam,” you pleaded.
“I know you took it here before.  I watched you do it.  I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”
Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.
“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole.  Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you.  “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”
He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy.  Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you.  “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you?  You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”
“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.
“You want more, huh?  Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment.  It certainly made your heart swell as if it was.  He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him.  “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.
Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway.  Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.  
“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”
It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch.  You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.
His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you.  Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.
“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside.  He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently.  “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”
He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.
“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled.  “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby?  We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”
539 notes · View notes
reidgraygubler · 4 years
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sounds like sweet talk to my ears (spencer reid/fem!reader)
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Title: Sounds Like Sweet Talk to My Ears
Request: kinda, it was already written but someone asked for it to be posted
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: smut, fluff (18+ CONTENT!)
Content Warning:  age gap between two consenting adults (Reader is 22. So it’s 15 years), swearing, sexual content (fingering, bathtub sex (?), groping, penetrative sex/creampie, hand kink), falling in love with a sugar daddy, mildly ooc spencer, light drinking, Sugar daddy!Spencer, sugar daddy relationship, mentions of under-aged drinking (in the past)
Word Count: 4,507
Summary: Reader and Spencer go on vacation where their relationship develops.
A/N: few things, this authors note might be a little long. And im sorry for that. This was written for a full length fic with mgg as the person. But i have heavily edited it to be for spencer instead. So if there are any weird things, or spencer being way out of character, that is why. Like i said this was originally going to be a full length fic (this was previously written!!), but i have since stopped writing it, i think i have one other part that is right after this, so if this part goes good, i’ll probably post the next part. secondly, this was also written for a friend of mine, who is 22, that is why the age gap is so big between reader and spencer. It was also written an original character, but i tried my best to make it be reader insert friendly (lots of petnames and nicknames)...  someone on my nsfw blog (@reidsprincess​ ) asked about this, bc i found this gif that reminded me of this particular fic. Anyways… thanks for the love! Check out my masterlist! 
~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~
{***}{***}{***}
“This place is beautiful,” I gasped once we were both in the small beach bungalow room. It was more grandiose than the last place we stayed in. The whole place was cozy and comfortable. This was a place I was never expected to be in...
 The front door was connected to the living room, it was a comfortable room, two loveseats, and two armchairs. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall across from the furniture. And the kitchen was attached to the living room, separating the two with a breakfast bar and stools. The kitchen itself was better than the kitchen in my apartment. I was jealous of the owner of this home. Flowers and lit candles sat on every open surface.
The kitchen had a set of sliding glass doors, which opened up onto a patio. And that held outdoor furniture, and table and chairs set. Something told me it also housed a jacuzzi, and I was more than excited to utilize that later. The bedroom and bathroom were tuck elsewhere, but I had a feeling that it was as beautiful as the rest of the home.
The house sat on the beach. The sand was pure white and the water was perfectly blue. I couldn’t wait to run and play in the sand. As childish as that sounds… I’ve never been to the beach, so this is all new to me.
“Spencer,” I looked behind my shoulder and at him. He looked down at me with a smile as he set the luggage down on the ground beside him.
“How about,” Spencer pressed his lips to my ear and whispered. His fingers danced across my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shuddered and smiled softly. “I go run us a bath, while you order food? Dinner with dessert? Champagne?” he offered, dropping his hand to the hem of my shirt. I chuckled lightly and pushed his hand off me. 
“That’s your idea of a perfect evening?” I asked, turning around to face him. “Dinner and a bath?” I chuckled lightly. He was looking down at me; the smile on his lips told me everything I needed to know. That he needed me right now more than I needed him. Although, I don’t think it’s possible for him to need me more than I needed him.
“Any evening with you is a perfect evening,” he whispered, lifting his hand to rest on my cheek. His hand fell down the side of my cheek and rested under my jaw, his thumb rested on the apple of my chin. I grinned as the familiar feeling of butterflies grew in my tummy. 
“Oh you be quiet,” I whispered as I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck. He hummed before pressing a kiss to my lips. I hummed, pulling him down more so we were more so eye level. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and pulled me so I was close to his body. I breathed out a laugh through my nose. After a second, he pulled away from me and kept his eyes on me. “I guess you’re in luck then,” I smiled, placing my hands on his cheeks.
“How so?” he whispered, pressing his face into my hands. I smiled and went onto my toes.
“Because our perfect evenings sound very similar,” I whispered and pecked his lips, “Every evening with you is perfect,” I smiled before walking away from him.
“What… What are you doing, Sunshine?” Spencer asked in a complaining tone as I walked towards the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at him as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
“Dinner?” I waved my phone in the air, “What do you want?” I looked back at my phone and smiled.
“Whatever you want will be fine,” he came back up to me and kissed me again before going towards the bathroom, “Bubbles?” he called before stepping into the bathroom. I laughed as I pressed my phone to my ear.
“You know me so well, Spence!” I smiled and sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I looked around the kitchen and living room, taking in the beautiful decor. I wonder how he knew about this place...
I quickly ordered food before finding my way to the bathroom. And, the bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house. One wall was just a window that faced the beach. And a large white bathtub sat in front of the window. A shower was tucked in the wall, just so it was out of the way, but even that was beautiful. And of course, it had a toilet and sink. 
“Do you… Live here?” I asked, watching as Spencer was filling the tub. “Or like… Do you own this house? I mean… This is just. This is a beautiful house,” I leaned against the counter and looked at him. He stood up from the tub and looked at me. 
“Sometimes…” he paused as he looked around the bathroom. Sometimes? How do you sometimes live somewhere? “On the very rare occasion, when I have time off… I take my mother down here for a week. She loves the beach and the ocean and the sand in her toes,” he smiled as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt down. Okay, I guess that makes sense. “You order dinner?” he asked, resting his hands on the counter beside me. I looked up at him and nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, dinner’s ordered and on its way here,” I nodded and rested a hand on his chest. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled softly.
“What’d you order?” he rested his hands on my waist. I smiled and cocked my head to the side, allowing his hands to wander up my sides.  
“I’m sorry, it’s a surprise. I don’t want to tell you,” I smiled at him. Spencer wrinkled his nose before kissing my forehead. I let out a breath of air and shrugged. “You’ll find out in 20 minutes. You should save some space in the bath for hot water,” I poked his nose before sneaking away from his arms. He grasped my wrists and pulled me back so I was in front of him.
“Where are you going?” he asked, looking down at me. I flashed my brightest smile and shrugged.
“Champagne,” I batted my eyelashes. Spencer laughed and nodded. “You still want a glass or do you want to get in the bath now?” I offered as I walked back towards the kitchen. 
“As always,” Spencer followed behind me. “I’ll grab a bottle, you get the glasses?” he asked, going towards a mini wine cooler. I nodded and opened a cabinet. I opened a few before finally pulling out two glasses.
“If this is your mother’s place, why aren’t there any photos of your family?” I asked, leaning on the counter as I sipped my beverage. Spencer turned and looked at me, leaning across from me on the counter.
“We rent it out on season.” He replied, looking down at his glass. I nodded.
“What does that mean?” I asked, feeling mildly stupid. He looked at me with a smile. “Sorry. But you gotta remember that I’m an elementary school teacher’s assistant… Who's poor. I have an apartment that I can barely afford… Not two houses, one of which I rent out.” I pointed out. Spencer laughed and nodded. “Or did you think I was just sleeping with you for fun,” I leaned over the counter to kiss his lips. 
“Hurt,” he placed his hand on his chest in a mockery of hurt. I smiled at him and cocked my head. He looked back at me with a small smile on his lips. “Basically, when we’re not here, we rent it out… But we don’t have too many people staying here,” he chuckled before sipping his drink. “As for sleeping with me just for fun? I didn’t know it was just for fun,” he pouted. I smiled and shrugged. 
“Can’t forget about that paycheck too,” I smiled at him and winked. Spencer looked at me with raised eyebrows, causing me to laugh. “And, I think the fun is just an added bonus feature…” I laughed, throwing my head back. “I thought what we were was just money and sex? Nothing more,” I whispered, leaning on the counter. Spencer looked at me and shrugged.
“It could be more than that,” he smiled. I lowered my glass to the countertop and stared at him.  I could feel my lips trying to pull into a smile, but the longer I stared at him, the more I wished this wasn’t a dream. Because that’s all it felt like when I was with him. A dream.
“Surely… You can’t be serious, Spencer,” I whispered, finally looking away from him. Spencer lifted his hand and rested it on my cheek, carefully turning my head back to look at him.
“I’ve never been serious like this before, Sunshine. And, please, don’t call me Shirley,” he whispered, poking my nose. I smiled and leaned over the counter again, kissing his lips. 
“Only if you’re serious, Spencer. I understand you’re a busy man yourself, with all that saving people with the FBI,” I whispered. He nodded, keeping his hand on my face. I wasn’t exactly sure if he was being serious, mostly because he’s a bit older than me and most people my age (and his age) don’t take such a big age gap.
A knock on the door caused us both to look that direction. I looked back at him and smiled. “Oh no. What’d you order?” He asked, watching me bounce towards the front door. I pulled the door open and met the delivery man with a smile.
“Thank you very much,” I smiled and took the food and pressed the door shut. “I got pizza because I really wanted pepperoni pizza,” I looked at him as I held the box up. Spencer laughed and nodded as he grabbed the two champagne glasses and bottle.
“I’m okay with having pizza,” he smiled before taking the lead back to the bathroom. I held the box in a tight grip as I followed behind him. “Although, I never pictured pizza to be a fancy dinner before a bath,” he looked over at me with a quirked eyebrow. I laughed before I sat on the ground.
“I mean, you are the one who put me in charge of ordering dinner,” I looked at him, watching as he sat on the ground across from me. He sat against the cabinets of the sink counter. I shoved his food towards him and smiled. “It just shows we have two different tastes. I mean, remember the first night we met. You ordered room service for steak and chicken alfredo,” I pointed out as I pulled my food out of the bag. “I’m a simple woman. I like pepperoni pizza,” I smiled at him.
“I think I’ll put you in charge of ordering food more often,” Spencer smiled at me as he went for a slice of pizza. 
“I think that’s a good idea,” I grinned. “I’ll be sure to eat quick. I’ve never been so ready for a bath in my entire life,” I spoke as I moved to sit closer to him. 
“Take your time. We have all the time in the world, Princess,” he smiled as he sipped his champagne. I felt my face warm up a bit as I looked away from him. Something about the petname he has for me just gets me going, and I love it. He definitely knew that too, that I loved the petname of Princess. 
“Glad to know that,” I giggled as I looked at my mostly-empty glass. 
{***}{***}{***}
“More champagne, Princess?” Spencer’s voice was low as he held up the bottle that was now mostly empty. I lolled my head back onto his shoulder and rested my elbows on his knees (I was sitting between his legs in the bath) and held up my glass. 
“I would love more,” I whispered, watching him pour too much into my glass. I hummed happily, telling him it was enough. He placed the bottle back on the stool and wrapped both arms back around my body. The bathwater was warm and matched with how much booze I was drinking, I knew I was beyond intoxicated. I’m sure Spencer’s presence only fueled that feeling. No, it 100% added to that feeling. I knew that. And, he knew that. He knew he had a way with me that no other man would have, or ever have even.
“You should pace yourself, Princess,” Spencer whispered, pressing his lips to my shoulder. I giggled before sipping my drink, telling him I shouldn’t. His breath of air fanned over my skin as he began pressing kisses to my neck. 
“You, Spencer, should stop giving me alcohol,” I looked up at him as best I could. He smiled and kissed me again. “Besides... you’ve had just as much... as me,” I spoke through tiny hiccups. Spencer chuckled and rubbed my shoulders before pressing his lips back to them. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as the unknown tension slipped away. Damn his touch.
“Okay, that’s fair,” he murmured into my skin. "However, I've been drinking for sixteen years. You, Sunshine, are only 22 and have only been drinking a year,” he stated like I would follow the rules. I held back the cackle that so desperately wanted to escape my lips. Me? Follow the rules?? Never ever… This should be a fun thing to tell him.
"True… But I have been drinking since I was 18," I smiled and nodded. I sipped my champagne as I rested my head back on his chest. Spencer made a sound of disapproval which only made me laugh. Oh yeah, that’s right… Under aged drinking is illegal… and he is an FBI agent...  “Okay, since when have you known me to follow the rules? I’m dating a man 15 years older than me,” I pointed out. 
"Oh, you naughty girl." Spencer playfully scolded me. I pouted before humming again.
“Yes, but I’m your naughty girl,” I laughed, arching my back a little bit. I felt his hand travel from my stomach and to my thighs. I hummed as I got a little more comfortable for what he was about to do. “Starting early,” I teased. Spencer let out a breathy laugh. He gently pressed his lips to my throat, right on my pulse point. I gasped lightly as he parted his lips and sucked a spot on my neck. I held my glass just outside of the tub. 
“I’d rather have champagne in the bath than champagne and glass on the floor,” he kept his voice low as he pulled my hand back over the bath. I laughed and shook my head. “Is this okay,” he asked as his other hand traveled a bit more upwards, towards me.
“It’s always okay,” I whispered, taking a deep breath of air. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer could feel and hear it. 
“Let me take this,” he spoke, taking my glass from my hands. I let out a sound of protest as he took my glass and pressed my head into his chest. He chuckled as he placed the glass on the stool beside the empty bottle. “You can have it back,” he spoke in a mocking tone. I pouted and dropped my head to my shoulder. “In a minute,” he added, his tone becoming a little bit more smug. I rolled my eyes and let out a huff of air.
“Fine,” I whispered. Spencer chuckled again and placed his hand back on my thigh. I hummed happily and looked up at him. “Do you have to be such a tease all the time?” I pouted at him. He smiled and shrugged before dragging his hand closer to my center. 
“Could be more than a tease,” he replied in a whisper. I rolled my eyes and let out a deep breath of air. I carefully lifted my foot out of the water and rested it on the ledge of the tub. “Oh no, you’re gonna get water all over the floor,” he scolded.
“Oh no,” It was my turn to mock him. I smiled as I waved my foot in the air. Spencer hummed before pressing his lips to the side of my head. “A little bit of wet never killed anyone,” I snickered. Except, that snicker became a gasp when he pushed a finger past my folds. My eyes fluttered shut as my jaw stayed slack open. I pressed my back into his chest, feeling his arousal on my lower back. I nearly slipped under the water if Spencer hadn’t had his other arm around my waist, holding me safely against his body.
“Calm down there, Princess,” Spencer laughed as he held me up. I glared over my shoulder at him. “Don’t need you slipping under the water. I think you’re wet enough,” he added as his finger slowly circled my clit. My hands gripped the side of the tub and then moved to rest on his knees. 
“I fucking hate you,” I muttered but moaned towards the end of my statement. Spencer laughed as he pressed his lips to the side of my head. His other arm was pressed against my chest, keeping me still as I wiggled and writhed under his touch. A breathy moan fell from my lips as he picked up his pace.  
“No, I don’t think you do,” he whispered, keeping his lips close to my ear. My eyes fluttered shut as I dropped my head to the side. Spencer took this as his chance to press kisses across the space behind my ear, causing me to gasp lightly. Spencer hummed, pleased with how I was reacting to any sort of his touches. 
I lifted both my hands and gripped his arm as he slowly eased a finger into my center. I pressed my nails so hard into his arm, I wouldn’t be surprised if come morning he’d have crescent-shaped bruises there.
A man like Spencer who has hands as beautiful as his, he clearly knows what he’s doing. It’d be a sin if he didn’t. A loss for all of womankind. I guess that’s why I’m so pleased that it’s me under his hands right now and not a different girl. I quite literally love his hands, and the way he can just work his magic with his fingers, getting me going in a matter of minutes. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a magician. 
“You alright, Princess,” he asked, keeping his tone low as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, curling them just right. I hope the gasp I gave was a good response because I don’t think I knew words right now. My brain was getting fuzzy, and my belly was starting to grow tense. Like a coil deep within me was about to break. 
“S’close,” I mustered out. I swallowed roughly as he began rubbing my clit with the heel of his palm. My whimpers, gasps, and moans weren’t evenly timid as he picked up the pace, finally pushing me over the edge. 
I was a mess. There’s no other way of putting it. But, I’m always a mess when I’m with him. 
Spencer slowly withdrew his hand from between my legs and placed it over top of his other arm, embracing me like his life depended on it. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. A giggle fell from my lips as I threw my head back against his chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me.
“I love your fucking hands,” I turned my head and looked at him. Spencer smiled at me and laughed before pulling his hands off me to look at them. I took one of them in my own and looked at it, entranced by his veins and freckles peppered over the backside. It felt right for his hand to be in mine.
“Thank you… I guess. I think that’s a compliment,” he mused as he placed his arms back over my chest and kissed my cheek. “You good?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing my shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go dry off and get water. Better see you in the bedroom.” I smiled at him. He pressed another kiss to my face before allowing me to get out. 
“As you wish, Princess,” he smiled at me as I grabbed a towel. His eyes lingered on me for a moment as I wrapped the towel around my body. “I’ll be right behind you,” he added as I grabbed our glasses and empty champagne bottle. 
I smiled at him as I left the bathroom, making my way across towards the kitchen. True to my word, I got a glass of water and drank half of it in one sip. I grabbed a second glass and retreated back towards the bedroom. 
Spencer wasn’t finished in the bathroom, I could still hear him splashing around in the water. I grinned and shook my head as I stepped into the bedroom. I placed the two glasses on the nightstand. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish. 
Not even two minutes later, Spencer entered the room, towel around his waist. I stared at him, my eyes lingering on his shoulders, down his arms to his hands, before flicking to gaze upon his belly and torso. I felt my lips twitch as I stood, leaving my towel behind. He smiled as I basically sprinted up to him.
I placed an open mouth kiss over his lips, putting my arms around his neck to pull him down to my height. I could feel his grin against my lips as our noses smooshed together. His arms wrapped around my waist as he brought us to the bed. 
“You’re so eager, Princess,” he muttered against my lips. I hummed as I threaded my fingers through his hair. That action elicited a moan from his lips, making me smile. He gently pushed me against the bed, standing at the foot as I got myself to lie at the pillows. The way he looked at me told me he was pleased with how the night was going to end. And honestly, I understood. 
He dropped his towel from his hips, letting it fall to the floor, before kneeling on the bed. I took a deep breath as I stared at him, keeping my eyes on my face. I knew if they wandered any further, I’d become a puddle right there. Well, more of a puddle than I already was.
Spencer smiled at me as his fingers ghosted my legs. He gently placed a kiss on different parts of my body as he made his way up to my face. The bliss I felt was unexplainable as he grasped one of my hands and kissed my lips. 
He looked down at me, a small smile on his lips. My chest heaved as my breathing picked up once again. The kisses he pressed to the swells of my breasts made me feel like I was floating. That, or it was the softness of the mattress and bedding beneath us. 
“You ready for me, Princess?” he asked, pressing a knee between my legs, separating them so he could fit comfortably between them. I licked my lips and nodded, keeping my eyes on his. His nose twitched as a smile grew on his lips. He brought a hand to rest on my cheek. “I need to hear you say it,” he leaned close to my ear and whispered. 
“Yeah, yes… I’m always ready,” I swallowed roughly and nodded. Spencer pulled his hand from my face and moved it to my hip. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him close to me. He smiled and kissed my lips, a simple distraction as he pressed his cock into me. The breath in my lungs was knocked from me, causing me to loud gasp. Spencer smiled against my lips. 
“You feel so good, Princess,” he groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder. It took a minute for either of us to move, adjusting to the feeling of each other. “Ready,” he asked, moving to place his forehead on mine. I swallowed and nodded, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. 
A smile twitched on his lips as he slowly started to move his hips. At first, it was an unsure rhythm but slowly grew in a slow and meaningful pace. His hands roamed my body before wrapping around my torso and holding me close. 
“Faster,” I panted, pulling my hands from his face and knotting them in his hair, again. He nodded, picking his pace. A familiar feeling in my belly, the coil winding, returned. The groans that fell from Spencer’s lips pushed me closer. 
“You’re doing so good, Princess,” his voice was low and rough as he spoke. 
I pulled a hand away from his head and brought it between our bodies. I began rubbing my clit, pushing me closer to the edge. Spencer’s thrusting grew more erratic.
“Come with me, please,” I whimpered, keeping my arm around him. He nodded and groaned as I clenched around him.  After a moment, we both became a mess. Moans and gasps of each other’s names filled the silent bedroom. 
Spencer stayed put above me for a minute, his arms around my body and holding me close. We took our time coming down from our shared high. A whimper escaped my lips as he pulled out from me and collapsed on the bed beside me.
“I got you water,” I panted, vaguely gesturing towards the two glasses of water on the nightstand. Spencer chuckled as he reached for a glass. I watched as he drank the water, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I smiled at him, keeping my eyes on him. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. “You’re right, I don’t hate you,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head.
“I know I’m right,” he looked down at me with a smile. I rolled my eyes and watched him get off the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows and sat up. “I’m always right, Princess,” he looked over his shoulder and at me. I smiled and nodded as I got off the bed. 
“So much for taking a bath,” I rolled my eyes as I felt our mixture roll down my legs. “I’m gonna shower,” I smiled at him as I walked towards him. He pecked my lips and nodded. 
“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he poked my sides as I grabbed for my towel. I squealed and shook my head. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I smiled at him.
taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​
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Text
A dead girl walking
AU: I got so inspired by the song from the Heathers episode ‘A dead girl walking’ so I named this imagine after it.
Alert: Smut/badass girl
It was usual Friday night. I was at the Wyrm drinking shots of our favorite Tequilla with Tony. The booze was slowly taking control of me. Behind us the boys were playing the usual pool game. Sweet pea was winning, as usual. That made him scream on top of his lungs “Yeah”
We were getting annoyed with them. The non stop cockiness was getting exessive by the time of the third beer when Fangs and Sweet pea decided to bump into each other chests for yet another win over some other Serpents, who were older and a little more drunk than them.
“Are they for real? This is starting to really piss me off” I told Tony. She smiled at me behind the bar, pouring us another shots of Tequilla. We raised our glasses and locked them down.
“You know, maybe you need to do something about it. We both know you are sassy biotch. Go there and show them how you play and make them shut it.” she said poiting at the boys’ pool table with her head.
“You know what, Tony?! You are right! I’ll show them their places. It’s been something I really want to do so they can shut it once and for all.” I locked down yet another shot and went to the table. “So, you think you are great men, ha?”
“How much did you have to drink, northie?” Sweet pea said puffing his chest as a male peacock ready to fight for territory.
“Do want me to show you how a “northsider” can win this stupid game?” I stepped a little closer with my hands on my hips.
“Alright! But when you lose, don’t go crying in the bathroom. Take a stick, let’s see what you got! “ He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“I would but I guess the only free one is up your ass!” I was so proud of myself of this line, especially when Tony came behind me laughing.
“You seem to have some serious competition here, Pea!” Tony told him.
“Fine by me! That’s a game of two. When I win, though, you will go up there and do a dance for us! Or you are going to chicken out now?” I am pretty sure he tried to scare me off by saying this, but that would never scare me. Actually, exactly the opposite. It only made me more eager to kick his ass.
“Good! But when I actually win over your pathetic game, you will take your ass up there boy, you will strip down and dance for all of the other Serpents.” I played him with some of his very own tricks.
“If you want to see me naked that much, I can take you to the restroom right now and show you some moves.” He pulled one of his side smiles.
“Are you sure there is something for me to see in there, boy?” I pointed to his dick with my finger as I looked him head to toe.
“ Just hit the balls!” He shoved the stick in my hand.
“It will hurt if I actully do it but okay” I laughed as I took the stick and hit the balls on the pool table making them go in all directions and some of them went inside the pockets. “It’s a little too crowded around this table boys. Move a little, cause I am getting hot.” I said as I gestured to Fangs and the older Serpent they played with to move back. I took my jacket leaving myself in tight off the shoulder shirt with deep cleavage. I aimed at another ball and bent down to hit it and send it directly to the pocket. Actually, my aim was not the ball but to distract Sweet pea so much that he wouldn’t be able to hit a ball straight.
For my misfortune, my ball skipped the pocket. He laughed and took his place aiming at the balls with his stick. I stood opposite him and pressed my hands on the table so I could bend down “casually” and clearly distract him. It didn’t really work. He was hitting the balls one after another until there was almost nothing left on the table.
“Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell did you do that?” I asked with my hand crossed in front of my chest making my boobs a little more squished. He came up to me, licked his lips, winked at me and tilted his head towards the pole where I had to do the dance.
“Brace yourself, babygirl. One more ball is left until I win that game and you go there and show me what you got.” he said aiming at the ball and shamelessly missing the pocket. “Dammit!” 
“Ha-ha! I guess it’s now or never. If I get this ball inside the pocket, you will show me what you got, babyboy.” I winked at him and flipped my hair back as I went and aimed at the last ball standing. With one swift and well counted hit, I sent it into the right corner pocked. I stood up, leaning on the stick, looking proud as ever when I told him “Now,go there and undress for me.”
“I always knew you want to see me naked, but if I go there and do the dance, that means you don’t get to touch any of the body part you see.” He laughed at me.
“Well, I guess I will be okay with that, but I really want to see how you dance and take off piece by piece.” I told him. Everyone around us who was watching our game, was rolling on the floor of laughter. “I’ll go and refresh a little so I can give you time to choose a song and prepare to go up there and wow us”
I went to the toilet and went straight to the mirror to take a look at myself. Seconds after that I heard the door open, close and then lock. I looked towards it and saw Sweet pea leaning on it, smirking at me.
“So, you want to see me dance and strip. Why don’t we take it to somewhere private where you can actully give me money for it.” he said
“I’d love that but unfortunately it seems there is nowhere to put those money in as it seems awfully small in there.” I said pointing to his dick again.
He just laughed and came towards me. He took me by the hand and pulled me into him slapping playfully my bum. “I think you had a couple more beers than you had to” I said. But, to be honest, I didn’t really fight back what he was pushing towards. 
“Don’t act like you don’t want it, too” he whispered to me as he pushed me back against the sink. I looked at his eyes and bit my lower lip. I could feel how hard he was because he was so pressed to my body. I took a hold of his shirt and pulled him so his lips met mine. 
His hands started travelling on my body making stops at the buttons of my jeans. He opened them and pushed his hand inside making me gasp at the sudden sensation of his warm hand touching me over my lacy underwear. He smiled in his kisses which were leaving wet marks on my neck as he was enjoying the sounds of my moans. His fingers were like experienced explorers, making me wet by the minute. I was biting my lip so hard I could almost feel the blood on it. My hands were exploring his bare chest under his shirt. His erection was growing harder and harder making me want him more and more. I started undoing his belt and the buttons of his jeans. He made sure to help me and himself as he pulled down my jeans and underwear and then his. I turned myself to face the mirror and he pushed my legs open by kicking my right leg gently to the side. We did not speak at all. Not one word was said. He bit his full lips and entered me in one motion. I let out a loud moan which made him smile. 
His trust were deep and fast. I was holding the sink tightly giving in the sensations of him filling me to the fullest. I wanted to scream and moan and swing my hips. I didn’t let myself scream, though. The fact that we could be heard was driving me crazy and scaring me at the same time. I moved my hips a little extracting a deep voiced moan from him. He was holding me tight. One hand was squeezing my breast while the other was drawing circles over my soft and aroused clit. I was so close to loosing it. I couldn’t contain myself. I could hear how wet I was. Every time he was pulling out, the wet sounds of us were making my head spin like a rollercoaster. I was getting weak in the knees as he continued to pull out and push back in his hard member.
I was sure he was getting closer to his orgasm. He was kissing my neck and biting gently my ear, all the while getting faster and faster with his trust. His hand was squeezing my breast hard which was making my nipples go hard between his fingers. His other hand continued to massage my clit making me throw my head back to his shoulder from pleasure. I was getting close, too. He knew it as I was getting really tight around his dick. I was losing all control as he was moving over my wet spot faster and faster. Soon enough I felt him come inside me which made me follow him right away, shaking with the waves of plasure. He contined to trust in me even though we both came hard. His hand found its way to my neck getly touching it. His trust became slow but still deep. His voice was husky and full of lust as he was moaning in my ear.
“I will pull out now, even though I really don’t want to. I will go to my bike like nothing happened, telling them I have to go because I feel drunk. You will come out after me telling Tony you have to go home for whatever reason. I will wait for you on my bike. You will come out the bar, get behind me on the bike and I will take you to my trailer where I will fuck your brains out. I will go all night. I will eat you out, then fuck you on the table, on the couch, on the bed and in the shower. I will leave marks all over your body and I swear to God, tomorrow, when you wake up, you will pleased as ever. And you will get wet every single time you even see me in school. Copy that!?” he whispered in my ear while his eyes were locked on mine  in the mirror.
I nodded, even though his slow post orgasmic trust were making me go closer to another orgasm and I didn’t want him to stop. But the idea of what will happen in his house based on his words made me so impatient to throw away all the clothes that I couldn’t breath properly. He kissed me hard on the lips. Then he pulled up his pants, rearranged his hair and left the toilet. I pulled myself together and tried to catch my breath. Tony, of course, knew what happened. I could see it in the way she looked and laughed at me. Still she pretented to believe me I had to get home and left me go. 
Just as he said, he was waiting for me on his bike. I took a seat behind him and we drove off into the night towards his trailer where I met the pleasures of a lifetime.
AU: I hope you like it. Please let me know if you want me write part 2 with what happens inside the trailer.
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exosmutfactory · 3 years
Text
Six Phases FINALE Pt 1
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Originally posted by sefuns
Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2) (also on AFF)
networks — @supermwritersnet​ @/bbh-net
pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)
word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])
genre  — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda
[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]
A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)
•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •
⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰
@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome​
I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗
•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •
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July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.
It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.
"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.
Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.
I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."
"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."
A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.
"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"
"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."
She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."
"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."
"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."
"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"
"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."
"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.
"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.
I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.
"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.
"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."
I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."
Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party. 
"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.
"She won second place in a dance competition last month." 
"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.
"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."
"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"
"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."
"She has a girlfriend?"
Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.
I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."
"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.
"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."
My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.
*
Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
Y'all ready?
//
Earth shaker 😝💞😊
Ready as I'll ever be!
//
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
Kyungsoo?
//
Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼
You owe me for this shit
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
I promise to help you bake in his place
\\
\\
As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')
\\
Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼
Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks
//
I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
\\
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
😂
//
Earth shaker 😝💞😊
Hey!
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
Ready guys?
\\
Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼
Yes
//
Heartbreaker 😑💔😄
Yeah
//
Earth shaker 😝💞😊
Mmhm >:(
//
♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡
Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰
\\
*
I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," She mumbles.
"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."
A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."
"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."
"Riley!"
I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."
"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."
"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."
Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"
Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.
Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.
Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"
"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."
"Three different chocolates?"
"Mmhm."
"Perfectly symmetrical?"
"Yep," Yeol chimes in.
I grin, "She's going to love it."
"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"
I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"
Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."
"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.
"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.
"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.
Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."
"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."
They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."
"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.
Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.
Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.
The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.
Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.
I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.
No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away? 
I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…
Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?
He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.
Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.
"You're staring."
"I love admiring art."
"So I'm an object now?"
The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."
My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—
"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.
I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.
The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—
His eyes…
They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold. 
"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.
"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."
He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...
"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"
"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.
"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.
"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."
Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"
He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."
A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—
"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.
"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."
"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."
The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.
"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.
His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"
"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.
He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."
I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"
"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."
"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.
"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.
"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"
"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"
Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—
A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.
Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…
The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...
"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."
"Wait-"
I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—
A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.
The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.
My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.
Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"
"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."
He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.
"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"
"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."
"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."
Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.
"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"
A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."
"Huh?" I blink.
Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."
A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.
•••
I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.
Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.
He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.
He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.
A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.
Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.
"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."
She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.
"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."
"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"
"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."
"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.
I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"
She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.
"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."
"But-"
"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."
"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"
"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"
"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."
My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.
Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.
"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."
Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you." 
Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."
"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.
"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."
Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"
"Now."
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"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.
Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."
I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."
"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.
"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.
Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.
"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"
"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."
"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."
"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.
"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."
"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.
"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.
Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."
I raise a brow. "That's it?"
"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."
I frown, "Why?"
"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."
Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"
"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."
I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes. 
"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."
"I don't even work here!"
He gives me a look.
"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"
The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-
They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.
Oh fuck no.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.
"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.
"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.
"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.
Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"
"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."
"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"
"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"
"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.
Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"
"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."
Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.
"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."
"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"
Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"
"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."
"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."
"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.
He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"
"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.
Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"
"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."
"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.
Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"
"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.
"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."
"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.
Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.
"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.
A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."
Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.
I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.
Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.
Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."
He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.
Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."
I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.
"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.
"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.
"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.
Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.
My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking? 
No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.
"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.
Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"
"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."
"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."
"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.
Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."
Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."
"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."
I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.
"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"
"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."
"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"
"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."
"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."
"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.
"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."
"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."
"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."
That's it.
Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"
"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."
Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.
I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"
"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."
Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.
Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.
"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"
"Ri-"
"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"
Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.
"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."
I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.
"I get that," He says quietly.
A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"
"I never cheated on you."
"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Really? You really are going to deny-"
"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."
Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?" 
Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."
My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"
"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.
Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"
"I already lost you."
My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.
"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"
"And what makes you say that?"
His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."
"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"
"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."
"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—
"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."
"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."
"Thank you."
"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.
Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.
"B-Baek?"
He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"
My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"
"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."
I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?
Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…
I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.
The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.
"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.
"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"
Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.
"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"
He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"
Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.
"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."
It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."
He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.
I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…
•••
It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.
No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…
Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.
Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.
It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.
It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20. 
I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.
Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.
It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.
A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.
My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.
Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow... 
Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…
"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.
My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...
"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."
A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.
7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!
I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…
"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.
It doesn't take my breath away.
"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.
My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."
He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"
"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.
Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.
His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.
He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.
My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...
Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."
His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.
Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?
"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.
I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.
"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.
"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"
"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.
"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.
"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."
My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.
Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—
"Ladies first," His low voice muses.
Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.
Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?
We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...
A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...
"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.
"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—
"Are you really that insecure?"
The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.
"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.
"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?" 
Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."
Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"
"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."
I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"
"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."
"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.
Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.
Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—
"I love this song."
Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"
"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."
"Your parents have great taste."
"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."
I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.
Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.
"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.
"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.
Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.
"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?
His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.
The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.
"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.
The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.
The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.
"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.
"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.
Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.
"How was your day?" He inquires.
I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester." 
A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.
"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.
"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."
His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"
I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."
"You work in a publishing house?"
"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."
"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."
"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."
"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes. 
I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.
When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.
I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.
"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."
"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.
I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."
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Originally posted by sefuns
August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.
Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.
The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.
Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.
The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.
Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.
I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"
"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.
"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.
"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."
"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.
"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"
I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.
"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."
Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."
Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."
A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.
Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.
My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.
•••
Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.
I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.
Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.
This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.
Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…
"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.
I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."
Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes. 
Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.
The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.
"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.
"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."
He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.
"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.
"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.
He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.
"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.
The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."
"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.
Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.
Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.
"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.
"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.
"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"
"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.
I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.
Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.
Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.
I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"
"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.
Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.
"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—
Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.
Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"
"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."
"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"
•••
The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight. 
This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.
It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.
"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all... 
Baekhyun.
On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.
No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.
I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.
Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.
"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."
Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."
With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.
A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?
Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.
Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.
I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.
His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.
I all but throw myself at him.
Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"
"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.
"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"
"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.
"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.
Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."
I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"
"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."
"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."
Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.
I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."
•••
It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.
Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.
Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.
—Like right now.
"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."
"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.
"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"
Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."
Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.
"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."
"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."
"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."
I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.
"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.
"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.
"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."
"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.
"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.
"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.
Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."
I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.
Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.
"Riley?"
I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.
Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"
"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"
A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.
"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"
Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."
Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.
"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."
"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."
He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.
"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."
Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."
Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.
Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"
"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."
Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"
"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"
I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"
"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"
I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"
Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.
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After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.
Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.
Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.
Now, the third option is one to behold.
A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me. 
Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…
Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.
I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.
Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.
"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"
I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."
She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."
Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?
"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.
"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."
"I-"
"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."
Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.
The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.
Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.
I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.
"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.
"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."
Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.
"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.
He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please? 
I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.
Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.
"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."
My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.
Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.
The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.
He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."
Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."
The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.
A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center. 
The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.
"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."
I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.
•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) | ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2)
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A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗
84 notes · View notes
sharkboygirlish · 3 years
Text
Messy.
ONE-SHOT
Word count: 2793
Disclaimer:  One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.
Warning: None
Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)
Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now.  At long last it it FINISHED.
Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.
Without further ado, here ya go.
Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.
Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.
__________________________________________
The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching. 
She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’
Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again. 
Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately. 
Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being. 
Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could. 
“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”
He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’ 
Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’
Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.
‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated. 
He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that. 
But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’
“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”
“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?” 
He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’
Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”
Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…
But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’  
Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”
“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”
“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”
“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”
Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him. 
“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’
“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.
“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.
He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.
                                                       * * *
“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.
Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’
“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.
“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”
“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.
‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘
“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”
Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.
“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”
Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.
“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”
“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”
“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”
An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’
“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”
“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”
Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.
He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this. 
Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’
                                                        * * *
“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.
‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.
“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”
When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”
Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.
“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.
‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?
It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.
That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.
Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.
Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’
Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…
‘Zoro was crying.’
Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.
One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.
‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’
“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”
‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.
“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.
A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”
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nocturnal-milk-dud · 4 years
Text
Desperate Measures
Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x Reader 
Summary: Carrillo’s been working too late for too long
Rating: NC-17, 18+
Warnings/notes: smut 18+; if you’re under 18 get off my lawn, you’re wonderful, but this isn’t for you; based off of this post; smoking; alcohol consumption; female masturbation; unprotected sex; vaginal penetration; biting; cockwarming; does it count as voyeurism? I feel like I really hyped this up and I regret that a bit, cause...I rarely write smut soooooo if I disappoint you don’t come for me. I got so worked up cause I was sitting here imagining it at 2 am. 
Word count: 1300
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A week of not seeing him. A week of hearing him come to bed--if you were lucky--and waking up to find him gone, the sheets already cool. You were antsy and you were irritable, and you’d find yourself sitting up alone late at night thinking about him hunched over at a desk, headphones pinching his ears, cigarettes and alcohol on his breath, knowing he was just as irritable as you, if not more. Drug war or no drug war, it was simply unacceptable. That’s what led you to knocking on Connie’s door, asking if she had a trench coat you could borrow.
There was something in the danger of driving through the streets of Medellín in that outfit at that hour that already had you biting your lip and clenching your thighs, but you pressed on. You found Carrillo exactly as you’d pictured him, sitting at the desk, smoke rising from the end of his cigarette, his fingers rubbing the worry from his forehead. Alone in the dimly lit room. His head snapped up when he heard you come in, your heels tapping against the floor. Carrillo got to his feet, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor, and rushed over to you.
“What’s going on, are you okay?” he asked.
“I am now,” you said, curling your fingers into his hair and laying a kiss on his lips. 
“Mi amor,” Carrillo said, taking your hands in his, separating himself from you, “you should be home.” 
“No, I think I should be here.” You shrugged the trench coat from your shoulders, letting it fall in a heap to the floor, revealing a lacy black teddy. You took Carrillo’s hand in yours and slid it up your thigh. 
“You look stressed, baby,” you whispered. “Let me help.” Carrillo smirked and turned away from you, walking over to his desk. He sat down in the chair and you watched as he lit a cigarette, the warm glow from the flame lighting his face. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at him. He tilted his head back, exhaling smoke through his nose.
“Touch yourself for me,” Carrillo ordered. You bit your lip and considered defying him, wanting to see what he would do, but the thought of him sitting there, watching you made you wet. You walked over to the desk and perched on it in front of him. Slowly, you opened your legs for him, undoing the snaps of the silky fabric one at a time, and slid a finger through your wetness. You spread your lips with your fingers, enjoying the exhilarating feel of air on your heat, before drawing slow, tight circles over your clit. Carrillo’s eyes traveled from your pussy up to your face, watching as your teeth clenched over your bottom lip in pleasure. You squirmed beneath your touch, beneath his gaze, and you slipped the strap of your teddy off your shoulder, letting the lace fall away from your breast. Gazing at his hands, you massaged your breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers. The room filled with the sound of your whimpers and moans as you fucked yourself on Carrillo’s desk.
“Horacio,” you whispered. That was all it took, and if you had known, maybe you would have said his name sooner. Carrillo stood up, his hand closing around the back of your neck, and kissed you deeply. You moaned as he took your hand away from your clit and slid each of your drenched fingers in his mouth one by one. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the bulge in his uniform pants against your sensitive pussy. Carrillo’s lips worked their way down your neck as you untucked his shirt, fingers fumbling to unbutton it, desperate to feel the heat of his skin. He pulled away from you for a moment to lift his undershirt over his head and in the next instant his mouth was on your breast, teeth pinching your nipple. You whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair, before sliding down to claw into his back. 
“Fuck me, Horacio,” you gasped, your hips bucking against him. You leaned back, watching him undo his belt, and ran your hands over his stomach as he freed his hard cock. The two of you watched as he entered you so slowly it was almost cruel, until every inch of him was buried deep inside of you. He held you there like that, unmoving, his arms wrapped around you, and his kiss was slow and deep. You tightened your legs around Carrillo’s waist, wanting him to move, and his hands slid down to your ass as he rolled his hips in languid strokes, making you moan into his shoulder. Carrillo wasn’t a very talkative man when it came to sex, but that didn’t mean he was quiet, and you savored his sounds. His groans as he entered you, his sighs as he felt your tight walls around him, his moans as he came. You didn’t need his praise, you just needed the sounds he couldn’t contain, the control he couldn’t keep. Carrillo quickened his pace, hitting that point deep inside you that made your body tremble, and took you by the chin, sliding his thumb into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed as he moved it in circles over your clit. 
“Open your eyes,” Carrillo whispered, his voice dripping from his lips to yours like honey. You did as he said, holding his gaze and moaning as you grew near, the heat building, ready to surge through every part of you with your release. Your body tensed and you held your breath as the sensation coursed through you, your nails biting into his back. Carrillo groaned at your grip, at the feel of your walls clenching around his dick, and with one final thrust he filled you with thick ropes of cum. His forehead rested against your shoulder and he planted his hands on the desk, letting his weight fall into them. You allowed your body to relax against his, exhaustion sweeping over you. 
“I’ve missed you, Horacio,” you whispered, kissing the birthmark on his shoulder and relishing in the feel of his skin under your hands. You wanted nothing more than to be back in your bed, feeling every inch of him. 
“I know, cariño, I’m sorry,” Carrillo said, taking your face in his hands and kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you, too.” You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and turned your head to kiss his palm. 
“Can we go home?” you asked, looking up at him sheepishly from under your eyelashes, and a soft smile brightened his face. 
“Well I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” Carrillo said. He fixed the straps of your teddy. “I can’t let you go home alone, especially looking like this.” He groaned softly as he pulled out of you and you watched as he dressed. Carrillo walked over and picked up the trench coat you’d discarded and helped you put it on. His hands slid down over your arms and he pressed his lips to the skin just under your ear. You leaned back against his chest.
“So from now on, if I want you to come home, all I have to do is show up here in the middle of the night wearing lingerie?” you teased, turning to face him. Carrillo tilted his head, his face taking on a stern expression. 
“I’m kidding,” you said. “I’ll just call you and tell you how close I am to doing it.”
“Just call and tell me what you’re wearing,” Carrillo said, looking you up and down with a smirk. 
“More like what I’m not wearing.”
“Even better.” You curled your fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.  
Taglist: @horaciocarrillohasmyheart @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch @massivecolorspygiant @girlpornparadise @the-siren-writes-it @vanthrefrigeration @thirsty-flygirl @silverwolf319 @funtasi  @cheesybadgers​ ​ ​  @redwine-n-hiddles​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @maharani-radha-writes​ @lettherebrelight​ @banga-sama​ @ajeff855​ @madlyhowling​ @chiara-cannot-sleep​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @cassandras-nest​ @flowerchild-96​ @harduy​ @chasingdreamer​ @anatanotegami​ @live–aloud​ @grogu-pascal​ @dodgerandevans @seltsamkind @goldielocks2004​ @marvelprincess1994​   @patqmark​  @winchesterfallon ​
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novamirmirsblog · 3 years
Text
Now my clothes smell of you but you’re not here
Word count: 965
Request: I mean no but I was encouraged to do it
Warnings: death, sadness, overall depression
A/n: guys I don’t know why I couldn’t just leave Natasha and Y/n happy and in love and I may have cried while writing this. Was it because of how my phone formats this or because it’s just such a sad fic?? We will never know. I’ll write and post the one where y/n dies when I’ve written some more fluff/smut 👀 because ya girl needs a break from the sadness 😂
Part 1 is here
We had won. Humanity vs Thanos and we had won. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's what you had told yourself when Clint came back alone. It's what you told yourself when you comforted the pain Peter felt at the loss of another father figure. It's what you said to comfort little Morgan when she asked where her daddy was.
"See you in a minute." That's what she had said, so hopeful for the first time in a long time. But it wasn't a minute. She had lied. That minute stretched and continued stretching until it was all you could feel.
You had started wearing each other's clothes long before the first snap. They didn't even call it the snap - those who returned - they called it the blip. Just another thing that had gone along with Natasha. Natasha had insisted that she only made you wear her clothes to warm them up but on the few occasions you had managed to sneak up on the spy, she always had her face buried in the fabric. You had no idea what you smelled of but Natasha once described it 'as that feeling you get when you get a notification on your phone, or when you beat a really hard level of a video game.' So you guessed if dopamine and relief smelt of anything, that was your smell. You didn't mind wearing her clothes - although you teased her mercilessly for it - because she always looked so content when she got something of hers back that smelt of you.
How you wished you could go back to having to wear jumpers a little too small just so Natasha could have your smell. Eventually your clothes migrated to our clothes which then turned into Natasha's clothes. By that point she suggested you should just move in. You basically lived at the compound anyway so there was no harm in sharing her room.
"We won" you whispered to yourself as you watched them take an empty coffin to bury.
It was an annoyingly sunny day when that empty box was buried. The movies lied, the clouds didn't cover the sun and pour with rain that mixed with tears rolling down faces. Birds chirrped and white fluffy clouds rolled over the sky. The sounds of children laughing filled the air.
For a while you were angry. The kind of anger that claws its way from your chest into your throat. First it was directed at Clint. How dare he not fight harder to die. He should have shot her in the leg, tied her up, anything. When you screamed all this at him when he came back alone, all he said was "I know".
Then your anger turned on Bruce. It was him who snapped that second time to bring everyone back. Him who truly failed you. How could he. He was supposed to love her too and yet not only did he abandon her to go fly about space with Thor, but he failed to bring her back.
Anger turned to pain when you saw all the happily reunited families. The whole world was celebrating and yet those who made it happen were dead. At least Stark got a proper funeral. It was broadcasted all over the world, as it should be. His sacrifice was possibly the hardest of them all. He didn't even want to be involved. He had made a life for himself and it was snatched away because heroes have to make the world a 'better place' but was the world really a better place without them in it?
The avengers broke up pretty soon after the funerals. Steve went off to give back the infinity stones, Bucky moved out, Sam went back to his sister and those who came from around the galaxy all went back to where they came from. It was lonely. Sometimes it felt as if you were the only one who remembered.
It was a complete accident when you found a chest Natasha had hidden. You were looking for a pair of shoes that had suddenly gone missing. Pepper said you were more than welcome to stay in Natasha’s room for as long as you wanted but it was just too painful to be there but it was also too painful to be anywhere else. The chest contained all your clothes you thought you had lost over the years. There was so many of them, ranging from beanies, to skirts, to dresses, to comfort clothes and even a pair of pyjamas. You sat on the floor and cried. The tears just kept coming and then you saw the note.
‘Darling y/n,
you have no idea how much I’ve loved you. I know if you’re reading this it means I’m gone and I’m so so sorry for the pain it may cause. In the chest are clothes that now smell of me. I know you may not have been as obsessed with my smell as I was with yours but I hope these can provide the hugs I wish I could give you. There are also videos and a hologram Stark made. I have no idea if you will need all this but I hope that if you do, this is enough.
All my love, Natalia’
Emptying out the clothes carefully, you saw hundreds of usb sticks and tears came flooding back. You sat and watched the videos, trying to figure out how to turn on the small black disk that was the hologram when it suddenly popped on.
“Hello detka”
You threw it across the room, hearing it thud on the other side. Because no matter how hard you try, not everything can be stitched back together. We had won, but maybe this time the price too high.
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lady-z-writes · 3 years
Text
A little preview...
So I normally don't post upcoming stuff for a fic I'm writing, but this scene with Heisenberg x fem!reader was just too much. Ended up sharing about it in a server I'm a part of and...here's a little preview of some smut coming up in my multi-chapter fic, What Lies Beneath
The following is NSFW...
Summary for below the cut: Reader and Heisenberg show up to a "family" meeting at the church. While they wait for the others, Heisy wants reader to blow him in one of the pews. Reader ends up fingering herself, mid-blowjob, and doesn't get to climax before the other Lords start showing up for the meeting. Lots of teasing ensues during the meeting because Heisy loves to play...
“We shouldn’t,” she urges, pressing against him in an attempt to get him to stop.
It’s dangerous she’s even this close to him, considering they could get ambushed by anyone.
Still, he insists on entering the church together and she’s forced to pull away from him for appearances sake. He’s smirking at her over his shoulder, finding this whole thing humorous. She shoots him a glare.
Moreau is the only one there already and he mumbles something to Heisenberg about Mother being late.
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll be fine.” Heisenberg glances at her, nods down the hall. It takes her a moment, but she realizes what he’s suggesting and she shakes her head. He rolls his eyes, takes matters into his own hands. “Why don’t you wait by the door for her?”
Moreau seems giddy about this idea and [Y/N] watches him shuffle to the main door. The minute Moreau is out of eyeshot, Heisenberg grips her by the arm and drags her where he wants. She struggles, but only for a minute.
“Are you nuts?”
“Maybe a little,” he chuckles. [Y/N] pulls her arm back. His face falls. “Fine. Have it your way.”
He pulls her deeper into the church now, seats himself down in a pew in the nave, and shoves [Y/N] to her knees.
Gaping at him, she shakes her head while he grips her hair.
“Heisenberg,” she hisses, trying to push herself up.
“You wanted it this way, kitten,” he shakes his head, using his other hand to unbuckle and unzip. “But that’s fine, waste more time.”
His grip in her hair is painful and if she understands anything about him, she knows there’s no way of getting out of this.
They’ll be here any minute.
Quickly, she pulls his pants open just enough for his cock to spring out. He groans at the knowledge that she’s actually obliging. Shifting his grip on her hair, he adjusts in the pew, feels the weight of her arms draping over his thighs, one hand groping at his hip, the other around his dick.
“Good girl…” he coos as she takes his cock in her mouth.
Her tongue swirls around his head before she deepthroats once. Such a tease. Always such a tease. A flat tongue traces over the underside of his dick, lapping up to the tip again. She tenses her tongue, uses the tip of it to play with his frenulum. The sensitivity causes Heisenberg to buck his hips toward her mouth, moan aloud.
She startles, surely nervous to have him being so loud but it only urges him on. He’s smirking, she notices, and though she’s nervous she can’t help but be completely aroused by this.
“I’ll sit here all meeting if I have to. You know that,” his voice is sultry, whispered just for her to hear.
She steps up her game, using her hand to jerk him off while her mouth continues to pleasure him as well. The precum she tastes means he’s liking what she’s doing.
“Guess I didn’t – mmm – spell out my rules well enough, huh?” he pants out. “I’ll let it slide this time, ungh…kitten.”
She’s focusing on his pleasure and speeding things up but she’s also very aware of her own throbbing arousal. Pressing her legs together tighter, she moans at the stimulation.
Heisenberg stares at her. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he cackles to which she deepthroats him repeatedly to get him to shut up. It works, but instead he’s moaning her name.
She can feel his dick tensing, the muscles in his thighs flexing, making the pew creak. It’s at this point that she removes her hand from his hip, uses it to put pressure on her clit.
Heisenberg watches every second – loves the way her mouth feels on him, how her hands grip him at the perfect intensity, how into this she is. He’d normally force her to stop touching herself, but he’s so fucking intrigued he can’t look away. Her fingers have trailed up her skirt and the filthy woman is fingering herself while she mouthfucks him in a church.
Heisenberg can’t hold back much longer – not with the way her throat feels against his tip, not with how talented that tongue is, and surely not when he hears her slick wetness as her fingers slip inside her cunt.
With a string of moans, he spills in her mouth, using his grip on her hair to thrust as deep as possible; give her every last drop. [Y/N] is moaning around his cock and, though his eyes are closed, he can still hear her fingers gliding in and out of herself.
Swallowing him down, she keeps her mouth on him as he starts the comedown but he pulls his hips back from her because she’s overstimulating him. With nothing to block the moans, she buries her face in his thigh, hides her expression as she nears her climax.
“Ohhh, fuck, buttercup,” he gasps, stroking her hair gently, his voice laced with pleasure. “You gonna cum for me? Hm? You gonna cum on your fingers for a job well done getting your master off in a church?” he chuckles and she’s completely gone – passed the point of no return. “And I’ll let you. I’ll let you because, baby girl, you did so good.” A few more strokes to her g-spot and she’s there. “Oh…? Oh…shit, honey…” he’s laughing at her and for a second she stills, listening.
Over the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, she can hear someone talking. No. No, no, no, they’re here already?
A sob leaves her mouth as she looks up at him from his crotch. He’s pleased, so fucking pleased with the sight of her – hair a mess, swollen lips, pupils dilated, chest heaving.
The voice of Lady Dimitrescu is apparent now, echoing in the nave as she enters. Heisenberg glances over his shoulder as [Y/N] debates if she should try to finish – but that edge is waning due to the new company.
“Up. Now,” Heisenberg speaks through gritted teeth, quickly zipping, buttoning, and buckling up.
A shaky breath that’s on the verge of a sob, she huffs in the pew beside him. Her hands come up to wipe her mouth, smooth her hair, swipe the tears from her eyes. Heisenberg takes another glance back, notices he has a second, and pops her slick-covered finger in his mouth – tasting her, tongue dancing across her skin.
A whimper leaves her before she purses her lips. Heisenberg is so humored by this.
He leaves her side, goes to greet Alcina with some witty, snide remark. She doesn’t even notice [Y/N].
Eyes wide, [Y/N] glances around the room, looking for an escape of some sort. Maybe she could rush to the bathroom – make an excuse – finish off in there…
And then Heisenberg is calling her into the conversation; something about her wanting to try Alcina’s wine.
“Oh, my dear girl! I’ve stored some bottles in the kitchen here. Would you fetch them for us?” she calls.
Perfect – an excuse. She could almost weep a thank you to Karl as she gets up and tries to walk, as composed as possible, to the kitchen. His eyes are on her. She can feel them.
Alone in the kitchen, she decides to take a breath and focus: get the wine and glasses before trying to finger fuck herself.
It’s fairly empty so it’s not hard. A wine opener sits on the counter too and she rushes to open the bottle, tries to mentally work herself up again so it’s not a problem reaching her climax quickly.
Bottle open, everything spread out, shielded by the counter, [Y/N] starts to pull her long skirt up –
“[Y/N]?” Lady Dimitrescu ducks into the doorway, startling her enough for her to drop the fabric back down. “Oh, I see you’ve found the opener as well. Very good.”
“I-I’m excited to try it,” she stutters out, clearing her throat as the Lady picks up the bottle. She struggles to hide her swollen lips, looking away when Alcina tries to look closer at her.
Heisenberg is in the hallway, just beyond Lady Dimitrescu – smirking. Of course.
“Come, now, child. We’re needed in the vestry.”
[Y/N] follows, grabbing the glasses with shaking hands. As she passes Heisenberg, he tips his hat at her, that devilish smirk taunting her.
No one behind them, he places a hand on her ass as they walk. This whole sneaking around thing is way too much fun, he thinks.
Donna and Moreau are in the vestry, seated at the middle table. Alcina takes the bottle to the front, naturally, overachiever.
As [Y/N] gets her glass filled with wine, Heisenberg takes one of the two seats at the back table. She glances up at everyone in the room, notices the only empty seat.
“Back of the class,” Heisenberg cackles.
The front board is covered with a hand-drawn map of the village. [Y/N] takes her seat and tries to distract herself.
Heisenberg is smug beside her, running his hands over his facial hair to make that delicious scratch that she loves.
He watches her cross her legs, sip her wine, stare at the front of the room. A quiet chuckle comes from him. Slowly he starts rolling up his sleeves, exposing his muscled forearms. [Y/N] inhales sharply and he is so enjoying this.
Miranda joins them shortly, instantly cutting to information regarding the upcoming culling. Maps of the village contained information on houses, villagers, livestock. [Y/N] tries to focus, but once the lights dim, Heisenberg has his hand on her thigh and she’s trying to calm down.
She gives it a few minutes, waits for Miranda to introduce their next steps.
It’s so damn hard to focus though and every few minutes she’s switching one leg over the other just to have some sort of stimulation.
Heisenberg’s hand doesn’t leave her no matter her movements. He notices her shifting, bites back a laugh.
Lackadaisically, he lifts her wine glass to his lips, takes a sip, swallows, hums. The rumble of his throat makes her squeeze her thighs together tightly. He starts touching his facial hair again, the sound against his leather gloves so arousing.
“You just gotta ask nice,” he barely whispers.
She’s afraid they’ll be caught; afraid someone already heard his comment. Yet, when his fingers just barely graze over her cunt, she covers her mouth and inhales sharply.
“Please,” she whispers.
She breaks.
“Absolutely.”
He doesn’t lift her skirt like she hoped, but the pressure of his fingers against her clit is enough to bring her right back to that moment: with her face in his lap, her fingers buried between her thighs.
Talented fingers tense over her clit, massaging up and down. Holding her breath, she closes her eyes in hopes to focus on her orgasm. Biting her lower lip, she barely bucks up against his hand.
Heisenberg’s free hand is pressed against his cheek, elbow on the table. He hides his smirk as he hears a soft, shaky breath leave her. Good. Good girl.
The orgasm is powerful, breathtaking, considering she was refused a release before. Heisenberg’s fingers are relentless and she’s so impressed he can coax her to peak so quickly. Here, in this room, after she blew him – her lips still swollen, mouth tasting of a mixture of wine and his cum.
Her eyes shoot open as she takes in the scene around her. No one else pays her any mind, but Heisenberg is staring, hungry, pants tented again.
She’s breathless once more.
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