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teenage-mutant-ninja-freak · 4 years

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Heart Shaped Bed

Mob Boss! Mikey x fem reader

Summery: It’s Halloween and you’re just looking for some fun of the dangerous variety. Enter: Michelangelo. A psychotic mob boss from hell who is in love with your best friend. Can you win him over and at what cost?

Warnings: NSFW, violence, alcohol mentions, car accident

((A/N: I have trouble writing crazy character despite being labelled as crazy myself, Mikey is tricky to write for in this AU so just bear with me))

October 31st, the night where all the ghouls and ghosts come out to play and superstition is at it’s highest since it’s rumoured that the veil between our world and the next is at it’s thinnest. You pull your skirt down your leg a little and take another sip of your free beer, one of the only perks of having a best friend who works at a bar. Paddy’s is always packed at this time of year, everyone is in costumes and drunk out of their minds; you are no different. You’re dressed as a sexy school girl because originality was never your forte and you wanted to show off your boobs a little, so what? You have the outfit down, complete even with bows on the thigh high socks and you look damn good.

It’s too loud to have a decent conversation with “Monster mash” blaring over the small speakers on the bar so you sit and give Sophie (Peach, as you know her) a forlorn look as if to say “more beer, please” and she complies. Peach looks radiant as she pulls the tap to refill your glass. Her light peach hair trailing down over her shoulders and her uniform or black slacks and a white t shirt with dark green hem hugging all of her curves. She was difficult to compete with but she was still so modest and complimentary of you it was hard to hold it against her. You knew half the regulars only came her to watch her, it didn’t stop you going after them though.

Looking around the room you watch and drunk idiots spill their drinks and desperately try to find someone to take home despite looking a mess, covered in fake blood or with vampire fangs. It was really something to watch. A guy in a ladybug costume fawns over a women dressed as Moticia Adams only to get the cold shoulder. You chuckle to yourself. Sat in the far corner of the room, at their usual table, sat the Turtle boys, a notorious gang in upside New York. They weren’t in costume, too good for it you assumed, and they didn’t look happy. You were aware, through Peach, that they made unsavoury deals in the back office of the bar and maybe tonight something went awry.

“Hey, babes!” you call over to Peach who is passing the incredible hulk a bud light “What happened over there?” you say gesturing subtly to the four well suited turtles.

“Not sure, I heard some yelling from the back room and then they came out. Something to do with that serial killer I think” She replies.

So a serial killing is hurting business. Huh. That explains their looking like someone died, someone has... You couldn’t keep your eyes from flitting towards them, sitting there so stoic and commanding while nursing a few now almost gone whiskys.

“Hey” you call over again. Peach turns and gives you a smile to let you know she’s listening “Isn’t that one the guy who-”

“- who choked out Steve for grabbing my ass? Yeah, that’s the one” she finishes your sentence for you.

You smile to yourself, Steve definitely deserved it. Pervert. You knew the turtle’s name but, like all residents of the bar, were reluctant to use it lest they hear you. But, tonight was a night to be brave and take chances, and you’d always wanted to bed one of them. Think of the status that gives you, sleeping with one of the most violent, deplorable men in the state. You know Mikey has a thing for Peach, on other nights his eyes don’t leave her, not that she notices; a good girl like her doesn’t have time for those “downworlders” as she calls them.

“Barkeep! I’ll take 4 martinis if you don’t mind. It’s time to take my shot” you announce to Peach who gives you a weary smile as she makes your drinks and places them on a tray in front of you.

You adjust your green and navy blue pleated skirt, hiking it further up so that the bottom of your ass cheeks would be on view and head over to the turtles, tray in hand.

You set down the drinks in front of them and say, with a smile:

“We have a special offer on tonight, boys. Buy four drinks and get me for free”

They stare at you completely unamused, but their looks weren’t going to discourage you now.

“Oh come on” you begin “That line would have killed two tables over”

Michelangelo takes a finger and runs it around the rim of his glass a few times before tipping it over, the contents of the glass spilling all over the table and onto your skirt. You jump back.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you cry out

“Act like a slut, get treated like a slut” he states.

With your tail between your legs, you huff and walk away. They didn’t have to be such assholes about it, and it kind of stung that you basically offered up your pussy on a plate and they sneered at you.

Back at the bar Peach raises her eyebrows as you take a few napkins and try and dry off your skirt.

“So, how’d it go?” she inquires

“About as well as you can expect from four mutant, snobby, rich dickheads”you reply. Peach leans over the bar and gives you a small hug and kiss on the cheek as her condolences.

Suddenly you feel eyes on you and turn around to see Michelangelo staring at you, mouth slightly agape and a strange look in his eyes. You would have called it regret, if you thought he was capable of feeling that. You ignore it and turn back to your drink.

You sense a presence behind you and turn once more to find him standing next to you looking awfully sheepish.

“Look” he begins “I’m...I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know you were a friend of- is there some way I can make it up to you? Is what I’m trying to say”

“Do you have a fresh size 3 shirt in that booth with you?” your snarky side is coming out

He laughs it off

“No, but can I buy you a drink or” He looks you up and down “Interest you in any extra curricular activities?” His smile is so bright and charming, you feel yourself almost forgiving him for what had just occurred. And he was devilishly good looking, which helped a lot.

You trace your fingers lightly up his arm until they reach his shoulder.

“You wanna get out of here?”

He smirks, looks down and then back up at you

“Sure”

_____

Outside of the bar is freezing, especially in the tiny outfit you’re wearing and you shiver in the cold October air. Mikey shrugs off his blazer and puts it over your shoulders but you get the impression he’s doing this out of obligation rather than affection. It’s something about his movements, they feel more...Awkward and unsteady than fluid and confident. You know this isn’t his first time taking a girl home from Paddy’s, so you don’t fully understand what his deal it.

You arrive at his car, and despite knowing nothing about vehicles you can recognise that he drives a black Bentley and it must have cost him a fortune, not that he didn’t have the money. He could buy it 100 times over and still have more cash than half the people in New York.

He opens the passenger side door for you and you get in.

“So, my place or yours?” you ask

“Motel” he says plainly.

Curiouser and curiouser... You try and make a list of everything you know about him. He won’t take you home, he’s hot then cold and he has a thing for Peach. It clicks in your head. He’s using you to get closer to her. You almost smile, this was such a typical thing to happen to you, of course he only wants you for your relationship to her. It doesn’t matter either way, you’ll warm him up for her.

He drives fast and it’s not long before your on a highway and definitely breaking the speed limit.

You had been making casual conversation, the drive was always the worst part of a hook up, now you have to actually talk to them instead of make out.

“I feel like we should have taken an uber” you say

He doesn’t turn to look at you or speak

“Because that way I could be touching you right now” You place a hand on his thigh and he still gives you no response. “Anndd you’re not listening. Great.”

He takes his eyes off the road and turns to you

“You’re the oldest in your family, you work as a manager in a clothing store but can’t fucking stand it there and you feel like we should have gotten an uber so you could be touching me right now. Did I get that right?”

You stare back at him slightly aghast and he continues to watch you. Suddenly you realise he hasn’t looked at the road this entire time and the car in front of you is slowing down

“Watch out!” you scream and the car swerves before he gains control again and brakes, the car rocking side to side a little from the sudden movements. You’re breathless and you turn to look at Mikey who simply bursts out laughing while he continues to drive, his eyes wide as full moons. He’s sick you think to yourself. Lucky you like that in a man, and there’s nothing like a near death experience to get the blood pumping.

You continue the car ride for a while in silence apart from the odd laugh from him who still seems amused that you nearly crashed.

He pulls off the side of the road into some shitty looking motel. A huge florescent sign that reads “Blue Moon Motel” sparks a little which doesn’t offer you any comfort. This place was a dump, but if it had a bed it would do.

________

Inside the room you shake off the blazer he gave you onto the chair in the corner of the room, by the end of the bed. The interior was cute, all shades of blue and white and the bed sheets has little lace style trimmings.which was delicate and sweet.

You fling yourself onto the bed, kicking off your shoes and pull out your phone, you decide you need music for this momentous occasion. You settle on “Heart Shaped Bed” by Nicole Dollanganger and press play. It’s creepy enough to be fitting for Halloween but slow enough to be romantic. The opening notes of the piano begin to stream from your phone which you place on the nightstand.

*lay me down, on a heart shaped bed Pretend it’s out wedding, pretend we just met*

“So” you spread your legs a little and look at Mikey “How do you want me?”

He gives you a wicked smile and then he’s upon you, biting and sucking at the delicate flesh of your neck with vigour. Clearly he couldn’t wait any longer you thought to yourself.

*Pretend we're in one of those movies They rent in the back of every seedy place We pass on the interstate*

You angle your head to kiss his mouth but he pulls away, making it clear that this is not a romantic occasion, this is just fucking and he doesn’t want you in that way. It doesn’t bother you, it just heightens the whole “big bad mob boss” fantasy although you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little disappointed by it.

he tears your blouse open revealing your chest and begins his work sucking and biting at your nipples and the tender skin of your breasts, you look down and can already see pinky purple bruises forming, a treasure map of where his mouth had been.

You moan a little at his touch but he continues his work down your stomach and towards your most sensitive area. Lifting up your skirt he places a kiss on you clothes mound before peeling off your underwear. You raise your hips slightly to help his get them off with ease and then he returns back down, licking between your folds until his tongue passes over your clit and causes you to moan hard.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

“You want this?” he says from between your thighs, you can feel his hot breath against your skin, a sensation that is more than pleasant.

“Yes, god yes” you squirm

“No.You wanna act like a slut, you get fucked like a slut” he returns.

Before you have time to respond her grabs you by the ankle and flips you over onto your stomach before pulling your hips up so that you’re on your knees with your shoulders and face still down on the bed. You hear him undo his flies and think for a moment as he lines up with your entrance

“wait, don’t we need protectio-” before you can finish he’s inside you and thrusting hard and deep, he gives you no time to adjust to his size and he is very sizeable... You cry out in the mixture of pain and pleasure that he’s giving you. As well as the music, the room fills with the obscene sounds of his flesh pounding against yours and the wet noises your pussy makes as he pushes in and out of you.

“you think sluts use protection?” he mocks

He feels to good for you to want him to pull out now, so you go with it, but raise yourself onto your elbows. His hands are on your hips but he trails one down your back to grab at your ponytail and pull your head back.

*So get the room with the heart shaped bed Make something gross feel romantic*

Your walls tighten around him and that elicits a grunt from him as he begins to pound harder into you, smacking your ass hard as he does. He pulls out and flips you over back onto your back and holds your legs up to your chin, his strong arm keeps them in place as he realigns himself with your entrance and pushes back in. This new position allows him to get deeper which you think is what he was hoping for.

*Make me so no one will ever want me again*

Now he has a full view of your face, eyes squeezed closed and face contorted in pleasure

“Open your eyes” he demands “Look at me when I’m fucking you”

He’s still fully clothed which you’re a little unhappy about, so you open your eyes and begin to undo his shirt. Your fingers tremble slightly partially from the force at which he’s fucking you, partially do to the alcohol you had that night.

*'Cause when I sleep with faith, I only Find a corpse in my arms on awakening*

You slide his shirt over his shoulders and throw it across the room, raising your head a little you bite into his now exposed shoulder to stifle your moans. You don’t understand how he can bring you so close to the brink this soon, but his pace is unyielding and unwavering. He fucks you like he’s punishing you.

He grabs you by the chin and squeezes

“Open your mouth!”

you do as you’re told and he purses his lips, pauses and then spits down your throat, pushing at your chin to close your mouth and encouraging you to swallow. He’s disgusting but being treated this way only turns you on more, much to your shame, you can feel your cheeks flush with blood as he smiles down at you one he hears that familiar *gulp* sound.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

He pulls out once more and gets of the bed which confuses you for a second, until he pulls you up by the hair and leads you to the wall. He spins you around and so you’re facing it and pushes your shoulders forwards and pulls your hips back so he has easier access to your pussy. He plunges his cock back inside of you and you rest your face against the wall as you take him in all the way. You think you might start seeing stars if he continues like this. Never mind him being a probable killer, they should lock him up for murdering your pussy.

One of his hands rakes through your hair and pulls back your head while the other reaches around to your face and pinches your nose shut while covering your mouth. You can’t breath at all and begin to panic slightly but also whine into his hand because of how good he feels inside you.

you feel that tightness in the pit of your stomach and know that you’re close, you try and moan into his hand, shaking your head a little from side to side to try and get him off your face but it’t to no avail. So you use your hands but he simply lets go of your hair and pins your arms behind your back. You still can’t breath and now you’re so close to cumming and black dots and filtering in and out of your vision, you think you might be close to passing out.

Finally that knot in your stomach releases and your orgasm washing over you, you practically scream into his hand before he lets go and you fall to the floor, gasping for air.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

He hasn’t cum yet so he stands over you, stroking his dick, smirking at what he did to you. If it weren’t for the afterglow of your orgasm, you’d be furious and give him a peace of your mind but you were still desperately trying to catch your breath.

Mikey throws his head back before cumming on you, some of the milky fluid getting in your hair and you lift your hand up to shield your face from it. Was this to insult you? Or was it still part of the whole ‘you’re a slut’ role play thing because you couldn’t tell anymore.

He tucks himself back into his finely tailored trousers and walks across the room to put on his shirt and gather his blazer from the chair you threw it on earlier. He pulls a small rectangular card out of his pocket and throws it on the nightstand next to your phone which started playing the next song a while ago.

“You can spend the night here, if you want. Anything you get from the minibar will be charged to my card so don’t worry about it” He looks down at you, still on the floor, bright red in the face and still breathing rather heavily “G’night, sweetheart” he winks at you before heading to the door and closing it behind him.

You pull yourself up to your feet and head over to your phone, opening it and typing out a message to Peach.

[Hey girly, you won’t believe the night I just fucking had] the text reads.

You flop down on the bed and await her response. A shower could wait for 5 minutes while she replies.

Fin

#my fic #heart shaped bed #mob! au #mob au #mob boss mikey #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles michelangelo

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mikeshanlon · 3 years

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psst share your outer banks coloring secrets

ah, yes, one of the worst shows to color lmaoooo. i'll try to give some tips but im sure as anyone who has tried to color this show knows each scene is diff and has it's own flavor of awful yellow/green/red shading.

some tips on how to go from this to this......

............under the cut! (warning v long and idk if i'm the best at explaining things lmao)

so firstly, i use this psd i made ages ago for everything (alecbaenes was my url many moons ago i just am too lazy to change and reupload). usually i will go into each individual layer of that psd and see how they work with the scene, and will change the opacity or turn off the layer depending on what looks best. generally for obx, i will lower the opacity on the gradient map layer, as well as certain vibrancy/curves/levels layers, ones that make the gif brighter and more vibrant. i will usually bring back some vibrancy and brightness later but when im first getting the base coloring, some layers just heighten the yellow/red and we need to kinda bring that down before we make adjustments to get aspects like skin color more accurate.

so, just with my psd/adjustments made to the psd layers, the gif may looks something like this: (going to use this gif bc i made it more recently so i remember some of the stuff i did better, and is the most accurate to my current process--plus it sucks to color lmao)

ususally still way to red/yellow for my liking, both for the skin tones and to be able to manipulate the colors for a vibrant coloring! so the next step is to get colors as close to how they are normally. warning, you will have to make 345435354 adjustment layers and just keep tweaking and tweaking... and tweaking. sometimes i will have like 20+ adjustment layers at the end of the process. i usually put all my adjustments under my psd--i also always add a vibrance and brightness layer above. sometimes it helps to do final tweaks above the psd if you just cant get anything right bc of course the psd will change how colors normally look.

anyways, usually my base fixes will be some sort of combination of curves, levels, color balance, and selective color. so like, if the gif needs more depth/darkness, or is way too bright, i will bring the curve down or up respectively. levels, and also increasing the black selective color layer will also add depth. i will also use auto curve sometimes! the first image i have below i circled some of the extra tools i may use--auto for auto curves, the top black eyedropper you select the darker points in your gif and it will adjust based on that, the bottom one for the lightest--if i use those i will either use the black one only, or the black and then the white. the other three are examples of how my curve layers may look--i already have S curves in my psd, so when i do extra curve adjustments, it's just one single point, and i don't move it that much. same with levels, i dont make a super dramatic change, when it's under the psd it's enough to just move a bit to make a big difference. sometimes i'll also bring these layers to a lower opacity.

generally my first step is color balance though, especially if the gif seems mostly fine lighting wise. for obx, i usually shift it towards cyan and blue to cancel out the red tones. magenta and green depends, if its more green i may move towards magenta and vice versa, but usually i dont shift it that dramatically and often leave it alone. i will usually move the bottom bar towards blue, to soften the yellow tones. color balance helps shift the overall colors of the gif. notice that it's on mid tones in these pictures:

as you can see, i shift the cyan/red one more dramatically than the yellow/blue, and with magenta and green i usually just move it 1-3 points over. in the last one, i actually shifted towards red above my psd layer, because after all my adjustments i lost some of the red/warmth, so i brought back in red.

with color balance/curves, the gif may looks something like this

less of a completely red/yellow filter over everything! but still not great, their skin is too red, and overall still not the best base to try colorings. so next up is selective color, which can really help you fine tune things, but because of that.... SUUUUPER tedious. i will have 3495874 selective color layers and sometimes like 5 of them will be half canceling each other out just to get something okay. but this is a hobby i've chosen so we must suffer LKRGJRG. generally, my realm revolves around red, yellow, and at times magenta or neutral. if you think back to how we fixed some of the colors with color balance, kind of a similar principle, just with the individual colors. and lots of experimenting. so with color balance i would cancel out reds by making them more cyan--on the red selective color, im also gonna turn up the cyan. for yellow, i'm gonna make it more magenta, to make the yellow tones warmer. i will tweak the other tones too, just kinda experiment to see how changing it affects the gif, and then soon you will kind of intuitively know how to change the values based on whats going on in the gif lighting. magenta selective color helps for red values that are more pink, so make them more red or yellow based on what you need--i don't use this as much, hence i didnt have an example in the crop of psds i opened, but it's helpful sometimes. with neutral selective color, it usually affects the whole gif, so again, only minimal changes--usually i will bring the black levels down if it got to bright, or add just a tinge or yellow or cyan or whatever i need. here's some pics to show examples of what mine looked like for this gif:

there were many more, but i just chose a few. the '1' and '2' i wrote to demonstrate that these layers were sequential, how they balance each other, and how selective color can be a tedious balancing act-- the second example it's like basically the opposite but it balances it out. also, if you have two characters with different skin tones, or the lighting is different for them, etc, you can use layer masks to erase certain adjustments so it only affects one of the subjects. some of these tweaks will be inbetween me transforming the gif to be colorful, and noticing how the colors interact, etc. so between this i was also making it colorful and it's not exactly the finished product at this stage: but this is kind of what the gif would look like after all the adjustments just to get it looking... normalish:

not totally perfect but MUCH better, and also will look a little different when surrounded by the colors i want to turn it into. i have some stuff about how i color in this tag, i can do a lil other tutorial or smth if needed but bc i have limited photo space on the ask and already wrote so much i wont get super into it here. but for shows like obx, it helps to work with a group of colors that will work with the show--yellows/oranges are easier bc of all the yellow already found in the show. pinks can be harder because there is so much yellow in the show, but doable. greens are good because of all the green in the show, and thus blues are good because its easy to go from green to blue with selective color and stuff. thus, purples are good too because its easy to go from blue to purple! stuff like that makes it easier. some work with selective color, hue and saturation, gradients, and voila!

you can see how maybe some of the issues like it being still a little too yellow/greeny toned balances out with the surrounding colors.

also, a big part of it is just practice! i've been giffing for yeaaaaaars and with media that has just the most god awful lighting so i've gotten good at understanding what to do and sometimes i'm just on auto pilot.

hopefully that helped, i know it was long winded and it can be hard to explain/understand photoshop. if y'all want some more in depth explanation about a part of the process i can try, or with other examples!

#ask #quellstak #pals #ps help

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jeongi · 5 years

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like this? | ksj (m)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | seokjin x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.3k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | neighbours au. smut. pwp.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. handjob, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, light mention of impreg kink & of course, seokjin’s large dick. ;)

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your neighbour, seokjin, teaches you exactly how he likes to be touched.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin asks, his gaze lowering to your figure that’s been placed in between his legs. He’s seated on your couch with his cock out, the rose tip glistening with pre-cum already. Your eyes flicker between him and his prominent king dong that’s placed on the flat of your right hand. How in the world did this happen?

“What? Nothing,” you mumble, brows furrowed in concentrated examination as you focus back towards it. It’s thick and laden, sheathed in velvet that you could only imagine the taste of. You don’t have to imagine for much longer, you think, trying to wrap your brain around how you ended up on your knees in front of your neighbour, Kim Seokjin. One moment he’s yelling at you for playing Mortal Kombat so loudly, he could hear every pronounced profanity spilling out that innocent looking mouth and the next, his cock is twitching in the palm of your hand. He just had to interrupt the only night you’d get to have of bellowing obscenities at your TV monitor before returning to your regular 9-5 hellish purgatory the following morning. It was quite embarrassing having him discover you were the only occupant in your home at the time. Albeit, it wasn’t the first time Seokjin had noise to complain about; the thin walls of the apartment allowed him more audio access to your personal life than he needed. Now your cheeks were flared in a shade of crimson for entirely other reasons.

Seokjin sighs, shifting uncomfortably. “_____—you’ve been staring at it for the last five minutes, you know you don’t have to do this if you don’t—“

“It’s just…,” you pause and lick your lips. “Is it supposed to be that big?” There’s a silence that follows. Seokjin blinks, once, twice, dumbfounded.

“W-what?” He staggers.

“Your dick…” You clasp it between both hands and Seokjin lets out a hiss because, fuck, that felt good. “It’s huge.” The way you bite down on the bottom of your plump lip urges a groan out of him and you catch his gaze with yours as you squeeze gently. His eyes flutter closed, head tilting back as it leans on the backrest of your couch. It wasn’t the first time he’d been told he was rather gifted with his size but one would think someone possessing something of such great magnitude would receive satisfaction from women often. Unfortunately for Seokjin, that was the farthest from the truth; especially when he never seemed to be able to fully get it in without some sort of complication. Most of the time, they’d leave with the satisfaction of his tongue and fingers alone but he’d remain with another desolate night of jerking himself off to bad Jennifer Lopez romantic comedies. You, on the other hand, could not be more eager to please him. His mind briefly strays to a few moments ago when he had found out you’d never given a proper blowjob in your years of being sexually active. It had given him an instant hard-on and you had most definitely noticed. Now you were both here, your thumb tentatively swiping over the pre-cum spilling over his tip and him letting out another short hiss. As you pull away, a sticky string of clear fluid follows, and your mouth instantly moistens. “Should I keep going?” When Seokjin nods in approval, you begin to move your wrists. You wonder how in the world he’s ever managed to hide this monster behind the restraints of his pants, having to use both your hands to cover the entire surface area of his cock.

“Squeeze as you go down,” he suggests, and you oblige without a beat of a pause, grasping it tighter in your hold as you begin a steady motion. Seokjin blows out a shaky breath, the feel of your supple hands against his all too aching member stirs the greediest of arousal within him.

“Like that?” You ask, an innocent strain in your tone. He has to stop himself from looking at you in this state because quite frankly, he knows he’d come too quick.

“Y-yeah,” he moistens his lips with a dab of his tongue. “Just like that.” You’re in awe as you watch the stretch of his white t-shirt wrap tighter around his broad chest. It puffs and drops with every stroke of your palms, his breathing growing more laboured. You’d never seen a man so taken by your delicate touch, almost as if he hadn’t experienced this sensation in too long. His fingers grip firmly around the fabric of your couch cushion but all you want is for them to be woven in your hair. You almost feel bad that he’s whimpering as you squeeze harder with every twist of your wrist, each motion prompting a hint of a whine past his lips.

“Can I lick it?” Seokjin’s eyes spring open, your question bringing him out of the bliss of your eager hands. His cock only grows further with hunger.

“Take off your shirt first,” he nods at the pale yellow shirt you’ve got on. He can just barely make out the curves of your waist as the fabric loosely falls over your breasts. He can, however, acknowledge the prominent buds of your erect nipples that stay taut again your shirt. You feel your cheeks flush before your head falls to your lap, your hands releasing his member as they travel down to the hem of your shirt.

“You first,” you mumble. How adorable, he thinks. He can’t deny your request. Leaning forward, Seokjin reaches behind his shoulders to pinch the fabric between his thumb and forefinger before pulling it over his head. You gawk in further admiration. With a tilt of his head, he offers you a lipped smile and his shirt before you take it into your hands and place it onto the coffee table behind you. You can’t help but feel your chest flutter with anticipation. You follow his actions, discarding your shirt onto the table before tending focus back onto the skyscraper laid before your eyes. You try not to think too much about how Seokjin’s gaze scorches through your skin, the fingers of your right hand barely wrapping around the base of his girth. “You could create an entire three storey apartment with this.” The comment makes him snort.

You place a singular kiss on the tip, a string of his leaked pre-cum glazing a sheen on your lips. He lets out an involuntary groan from the sheer venereal pulsation through his cock; the sight of your flushed cheeks and bare chest not aiding him with comfort in the slightest. He hadn’t even gotten the pleasure of fucking you yet and you had him ready to burst under a few languid strokes. Your tongue boldly darts out, gliding across the ridge of his head and it sends shivers through his spine. Seokjin’s left hand extends to your hair as he collects all of it over your shoulder. You lick another fat stripe but this time it’s the bundle of nerves under his head and he immediately twists the hair over your shoulder around his palm. His other hand moves over yours that stayed placed on the base of his stiff shaft. His hold around your own is firm and persuasive as he guides you on what to do next.

“Okay...open your mouth, with your tongue out,” you follow his command, widening your jaw as you let the flat of your tongue brush against the sensitive skin of his cock. Seokjin tightens his grip around the fistful of your hair and gently urges the head to tap against your lower lip before tugging you lower. He lets out a soft moan, gentle, as his head fall back once again when the stretch of your lips slowly take him in. Your jaw already aches, and you haven’t even reached the middle yet. But you’re determined, releasing your hold on his cock. His guiding hand joins the one wrapped in your hair. You grab hold of his hips, letting the heavy feel of his velvet cock push further into your mouth. Seokjin whimpers, tilting his hips the slightest in silent urge for you to take him as much as you can, surprising himself when you do. “Y-yeah...fuck, _____, just like that...that’s it.” His hips push further forward and your nails dig harder as the tip of his cock begins capping the edge of your airway. Seokjin is panting above you, eyes squeezed tight, fingers clutching your hair even tighter. You feel your throat clench around his daunting girth, evoking such a guttural groan to fall past his lips, it drenches your heat even more. His hips move slow, as he fucks your mouth. He alternates between shallow thrusts and long deep ones that threaten tears in the inner ducts of your eyes. It’s when your esophagus is partially full of him that he decides to loosen his grip on your hair and rolls his hips out of your mouth. “Fuck,” he mumbles, before cradling his member that’s glossy with a thick layer of your saliva. You gasp, nose sniffling as you dab at your glazed eyes with the back of your thumb. Seokjin regards you carefully, watching the way his hold on your mane has caused certain strands to stick out in dishevelled directions and how your flushed face looks too sinfully adorable against the soft living space light.

Without a beat of hesitance, you’re getting up onto your feet, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of one hand as the other pulls down your sweatpants. “I need you to fuck me,” you state firmly. If he wasn’t so god damn turned on right now, Seokjin would chuckle at your effort into sounding stern. Instead, a small smile graces his face as he tilts his head to the side, his brown bangs swaying with the movement.

“Oh yeah?” He can’t help slip a breathless laugh as he sees a frown adorn your lips. He can almost envision the gears churning in your head, teetering between being bold and considering his consent. It’s when he sees you begin to slip the black sweatpants back up your legs when he decides to interject. “Shut up and get over here.” You hadn’t even said anything out loud.

Stepping out of the pants bunched by your ankles, you let yourself climb onto your couch and place each of your legs on either side of Seokjin’s hips. Your hands find balance on his shoulders and you note that he already feels thick against you; the only barrier being that of your panties. You let out a moan when his hands find way to your waist. It leaves a subtle scorch to your skin as his finger dances along the hem of your panties. “These are nice.” He acknowledges and you whisper a ‘thank you’ before capturing your bottom lip between your teeth as his finger circles down towards your heat. You’re observing him carefully, noticing the puff of his larger, cat-like eyes scan your bare body. They regard you right back, sharpening towards the erect bud of your nipple as his fingers ghost up your side. You shiver when the calloused pad brushes gently against the sensitive bud before his full lips pucker to place a kiss to the bump of your breast. You can feel the fabric of your panties cling desperately against the slick collecting in your cunt. Seokjin moves both hands to cup the sides of your breasts, pushing them together before craning his head up to heat the skin of your collarbone with one more kiss. “And these too, I like them.” He squeezes, hips involuntarily moving. The graze of his cock sitting heavy and ready against your ache has you letting out a mewl. Releasing your breasts, he scans down your waist until one hand sits above your thigh and the other paints over the fabric of your panties.

“I think...you should take them off of me,” your voice wavers, breathless. Seokjin offers a lopsided smile as his fingers skim the area of where your clit is. You gasp when he pushes the fabric aside, your bud glistening in your own arousal. He swipes a thumb over it and you jerk above him at the shooting sensation.

“I think we’ll keep these on for now.” You gulp when he pulls away from your sex, fingers coating with your evident want for him. You watch as he opens his mouth and places his deft fingers against his tongue, causing every muscle in your cunt to clench against nothing. “Do you have condoms?” He asks and your breath hitches in your throat when he places his thumb back onto your tingling clit. You feel embarrassed when you shake your head no, expecting this entire event to shut down with your lack of responsible shopping. Truthfully, you hadn’t gotten laid in a while.

“Hm,” Seokjin purses his lips, as another feeble stroke sparks jolts through your bones. “You’d like my cock bare, wouldn’t you? The risk of it all, it’s exciting.” You blink, never once in your life thinking the idea of that would be arousing— especially not with your neighbour. Yet once again, Seokjin surprises you with how pleasant that sounds coming from him. The honey glazed in his tone has you grind against his thumb in desperate need for some form of relief but Seokjin stops your hips from moving. “Come on my cock and then I’ll fuck you.” It’s a command and you swallow thickly.

“What?” Removing his thumb, his hands once against grip your hips as he rolls them over his throbbing cock to show you what he means. “Oh…” Oh, that’s so good. Your grip around his shoulder tightens as you adjust your legs to allow Seokjin to slip your underwear off with ease. You fit more comfortably against the skin of his shaft, your arousal dripping onto him. It’s lethal how badly you’re craving him, the press of your clit against his member already pushing you towards your inevitable orgasm. You don’t think you’ll have to do this for long before you’re in euphoria. As Seokjin’s hands rest on your hips in guidance, you begin rocking against him. Each sway of your movement send surges of elation to course through your veins.

“S-seokjin...” Now you’re the one panting above him, forehead against his as you desperately rub your clit against his cock. Seokjin groans with you, wanting nothing more than to bend you over the couch and fuck you senseless. However, he notes that this is nice, having the woman take control for once. His nose bumps against yours, fingers gripping deeper into the skin of your hips. It doesn’t take you long before your orgasm ripples through your bones, your cries filling the space between you and your legs quivering as a tsunami of your arousal crashes onto Seokjin. You pause, breathing laboured as you look past your blurred vision at the aftermath of your orgasm. Seokjin’s torso is sprinkled with your squirt, glistening droplets as a result of his request. You’re worried for a moment but Seokjin’s voice cuts your thoughts.

“Did you just...on my...all on your own?” He can’t even finish his thoughts, not from how insatiably aroused he is. He cinches your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, pulling you into a place a hungry kiss upon your lips. It’s your first kiss and it’s nothing short of ravenous greed as he urges your legs up before he’s lining himself up to your sex so he can finally feel you. Holding his cock, the pressure of the tip against you is already too much. You’re already clenching, arms finding space around his neck as you wait for the familiar pinch. Seokjin rubs his head over your arousal, resting preparing, hoping that you’d be able to take all of his throbbing cock. He kisses your jaw, short and sweet before catching the gasp that falls past your lips with his own when he slowly pushes in. You. Are. So Tight.

“Oh my god,” you let out, eyes squeezing shut as your head falls into the crook of Seokjin’s neck. You’re thankful for the remaining arousal that clings against you, alleviating the sting as he goes further.

He stops and you immediately let out a muffled whine in protest. “Are you okay?” You nod vigorously against his shoulder.

“Please, don’t stop.” How could he say no to that? “Oh my god, oh my god...oh fuck,” it’s so delicious and Seokjin groans with you, circling his arms around your waist as the feel of your cunt invites him all too eagerly. His girth, his length, each ridge of his cock is squeezed against your walls and it’s when you take him to the hilt that he puffs a breath. You can feel him hit the top of your cervix, resting just against your g-spot. You’re afraid you’ll squirt all over again.

“Where have you been all my life?” He moans, tightening his arms around you as he rolls his hips out. You pick your head off his shoulder and lock your gaze with him before your mouth leaves kisses against his cheek.

“Next door, I suppose,” you two share a moment of breathless laughs before they’re turned into wanton whines when he inches back into you. Once the pinch of the stretch is eased, he’s moving again, a slow pace, leaving you writhing in his arms. You already want more. As he bucks his hips into you, you match his pace with a steady rock of your own. Seokjin doesn’t know whether he should be crying or coming already from the way your cunt takes all of him in. Gently, he quickens his pace and your arousal keenly pulls him in, deeper and harder. Each pump drives both of you closer, his head prompting against your cervix and your sex squeezing him exquisitely. Your calves burn from holding yourself up, letting Seokjin thrust himself into you as you both let out cries of pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, that’s so good, _____ — so fucking good. So tight, so wet.” You’re both close, shamelessly rocking into each other as you find a balanced pace. Your orgasm borders against each thrust of his hips, each stroke hitting against the one spot that tumbles you over the edge.

“P-please, come in me, Seokjin,” you whimper, grasping your bottom lip with your teeth.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck, I’m going to-” And with one slam of his hips, you’re both crying out. Your second orgasm burns through you. It’s an inferno, the jolts of current racing through you as you desperately fuck into him to chase after the molten lava in your veins. Seokjin does the same, milking out every last drop of his cum into you as he catches your lips against his own. His fingers thread into your hair as he pulls you in deeper, saliva sloppily coating your mouths as you both ride out your highs. The air smells of sex and sweat as the sounds of your panting fill the space. Even as Seokjin softens in you, he’s still much more massive than any other dick you’ve experienced.

“Fuck Seokjin, where the hell have you been hiding that?” He chuckles. Your chests press together as you both heave. When he pulls out of you, his cum dribbles just past the outer lips of your cunt and Seokjin can feel his cock already wanting more just from the sight alone. You let yourself off of him, just now noticing the film of sweat covering you both.

He gets up off the couch after you, holding his softened cock in one arm as the other searches for his boxers. It’s then that you observe his body, broad shoulders, chest gleaming with his sweat and your multiple orgasms. You’re both still panting, heads aching with an overload of sensation. Seokjin licks his lips and turns towards you, cocking his head to the side, he asks, “so...do you want to play some Mortal Kombat?”

a/n: this one...this one really got me feeling things for Seokjin oh my god. call me boo boo the whore, ive cheated on namjoon, yoongi & jungkook. anyway, i hope you guys liked it!! thank you so much for reading, im lov u

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stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

Gotham Lockdown 2020

Part 11b

Summary: Revenge and passion

Warning: knife kink, blood (no gushing..understated.) oral on female, murder, and small bit torture oh...and some fluff

Somewhere along the way he grew to care for Roman, despite his episodes of highs and lows. Roman’s girl the entered the little orb of The Black Mask club and she was like the little sister he always wanted but never had.

Victor, noticed that he was two blocks away from his destination. He cut the engine. Turning, to you he looked your over. For the longest time, all he had ever cared about was himself.

Now there was you, his Doll-Face. You took the shreds that remained of his heart, his humanity which he thought were shadows of what they had once been. You breathed life into him. His killings, his scars were more enjoyable. When you were at his side as he carved away he enjoyed it all the more.

So the idea of a bounty on your head didn’t frighten him but it angered him, it would be unjust. There was rarely much he could do about a decision like that other then watch you more closely. He could do that, but he didn’t want your life to suffer as a result.

“Look I know , It’s my job. One that I will carry out with relish. If you help me, Carmine might put a bounty on your head.”

“He can go fuck himself if he does that. I’m coming with you.”

“Alright then, let’s go.”

Easily, you picked the lock to their rear entrance. The one guard, that was nearby was dead before he hit the floor.

More men went down. As he remained in the shadows, watching he saw how you managed to organize the women. Securing them, away made the rest of this much easier.

The two of his bodyguards went down very fast despite the pleas to do better.

“Ready?” He looked at you.

“I am.”

Victor, opened the door.

“I was wondering how long it would take for him to send his two lapdogs.”

“Look, Tommy if you had been a fucking human being, myself or Victor could have brought you food.” Doll-face shook her head. “You had to break in.”

“Why did one of your men have to knock out Roman’s girl, didn’t you know that would cause the blood to flow?”

The man shrugged. “The slut, should have been cooking upstairs.”

Victor, looked at you and nodded. Moving as one, you were on either side of him. “You just don’t understand.”

With a breath, you and him together slammed ice picks through the back of his hands securing them to where they laid on the armrest.

“What the fuck?” The man howled.

“You don’t mess with what belongs to Roman Sionis.” Victor hissed enjoying how the man tugged at his hands.

“You don’t mess with our friend.”

A girl your size would never be expected to have great strength, but you did. At that moment, Victor watched with pleasure as you pushed Tommy and he fell backwards. He moved and moved like a beetle that had unexpectedly fallen onto his back and struggled to right itself. This time, no one was going to come to help or take pity.

Victor, swooped down. “You should have called on the agreement of this lockdown.” He looked up at you. Hold him down for me, Doll-face.”

You smiled. “Happily.”

Straddling the man’s upper torso, Victor grabbed him by his hair. “Time to set you free.” In a few easy cuts, the man was dead and Victor and Roman, would have a new trophy.

Putting the face on the dest, the two of you righted the chair.

“I have an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Just a little something.” Victor watched as you twisted one of the icepicks free. Grabbing the hand that was now free, you held it up to what had been the man’s mouth.

He watched as you slammed the ice pick back through the hand so it made it look like he was covering his mouth on shock. You both knew that it also stood for never speaking ill or being the cause of ill will another.

“Oh that is perfect.” His blood pumped hard in his veins for you.

The blood on your smooth, porcelain like skin was quite the sight. He reached over Tommy. He cupped you chin, the blood on his own fingers, adding a delicious mar on your skin, it excited him. He kissed you then. Killing, with you brought a sweet thud to his heart. He sighed into the kiss, as he felt your small hand on his cheek.

You broke it. “Let’s go home.”

“Yes.” Rolling up the face, he tucked it away.

****

Roman, leaned against the wall near the special room. He smiled watched as Victor and you drove in and secured the garage once again.

“Tell me you have it?” A large smile was spread across his face.

Victor, offered the backpack to his girl. Roman, watched as she lowered the zipper. Reaching in, she took it out.

“Here you go, boss.”

“Roman.”

“Roman.” You beamed and stepped back and zipped the bag back up.

He knew what it was. Unrolling, it Tommy’s face was revealed before him. “Fuck you, Tommy. I would have helped you.” Roman, shook his head. “Ewwww.” Holding the face by what would have been the man’s forehead he handed to you. “Victor, blanch it and hang it.” He pulled and freed his hands from his soiled gloves. “Here you go, see you two in the morning.”

Content, Roman couldn’t wait to give you the good news.

*****

Victor, secured the face onto the wall. Working by your side, with the streak of blood on your face was almost too much for him.

He still had to mark himself. The night was ahead of them. He made sure to grab the knife that most appealed to him.

*****

With his heart thumping heavily in his chest, he could barely keep his hands off of him.

The elevator, dinged and it took all of him to not simply jump. “Dollface, do me a favor?”

“Yes?”

“Grab one of our white sheets and spread it out for us will you?”

“Victor?”

He smirked at you. “And when you are done, take all of that off.” He gestured to your clothes.

“I can do that.”

“Good.”

Victor, put the knife on the nightstand. He shed all of this clothes. Ducking into the bathroom, he disinfected a few spots. Feeling good, grabbing the knife he walked back out to you. He felt a punch of desire hit him as he watched you, naked on all fours spreading out the sheet.

“Oh, my little bird look at you.” Pursing his lips he gave a low whistle.

Remaining on a fours, you turned and smiled at him. “You like what you see?”

“I do.” He licked his lips. He drew closer. “Doll-face don’t move.”

He put the knife down beside the two of you. Kneeling, behind you he dragged his hands across your smooth skin of your back. He kissed your hip. He picked up his knife.

“Turn around for me baby.”

Soft and all curves, he loved how you were on your back before him. The night, seeing how you were still smudged with blood, he was terribly aroused but he would wait.

“Watch me Doll-face.”

“Of course.”

Holding his knife, he brought the tip to his shoulder. He met your eyes. “Should I cut myself here?”

Raising yourself up onto your elbows, you nodded. “Yes.”

Turning his attention back to his shoulder then sliced into it. He barely felt the cuts anymore but he did exhale a breath.

He brought his knife just below where his beat beat heavy in his chest. “How about here?”

“Yes.” Your voice was growing thick looked at you, he could see how you were breathing deeper.

On his right side, just shy of being hidden being on his side be found a new place. “And here?”

“Yes!” Your voice, caught his attention looking at you, he smirked.

He sliced, he grew harder watching you. You had drawn up your legs up, knees pressed together, and one of your small hands was deep between them.

“Feeling good?” He held up his now bloodied knife.

You moan softly.

He asked again. “How....good are you feeling?”

Your eyes with alit with passion met his. “Very good.”

“Doll-face, watch.” His voice was tight. As he chose his final spot.

Your eyes, were heavy with passion but you watched. He found a place on his pelvis. He sliced. A louder moan came from you.

“How do I look?” From the slices, some blood, dribbled out. He didn’t cut deep enough for a worrisome but enough that little red paths worked their way down his body.

You bit you bottom lip and gather a breath, you smiled. A small moan came from you. “Very good.”

He smirked. “Get up.” He watched as your hand froze. “Your turn.” He watched as you drew your hand away from your soft wet center. How he wanted to be nestled there. But he was a man who could wait.

You got up and knelt in front of him, knees were apart for balance. He offered you his knife.

“Where shall our mark go?”

He inhaled sharply as you wiped one side of the bloody blade on your hip and then watched as you did the she same to your other side. His blood was delightful shade on your creamy skin.

You smiled. “I know the perfect spot.”

He knew already where it was going. You didn’t disappoint. He watched as your eyes focused then he felt as you added another cut over his heart. You wiped it off, then handed if back to him.

Leaning over, he put the knife a fair distance away.

Grabbing you, to him, he loved how your soft body slid a little as it rubbed and made the slices bleed a little more. “I am complete once again.” He breathed against your ear.

He brought your chin up and kissed you then, it felt like it had been ages since he had last kissed you.

He smirked into the kiss as your lips pressed against him more as you felt his fingers reach between the two of you. He rubbed at you. Loving, how wet you felt to his fingers.

*****

Excitement coursed hotly thought his veins. He wished, he could have taken part. Though, he remembered the feel of pulling his gun from bis holster and killing the man who drugged you and that made him feel good.

He had consulted with the other rogues and Tommy had not mattered. He was low level. He broke the agreement. He was well within his right to retaliate. They did so, he was on top. Fuck, it had been awhile and a flush of pride filled him. He was the fucking king.

He shed his robe, his silken pajamas once he was in the bedroom he shared with you. Going to the bathroom, he grabbed and soaked a wash cloth with warm water. He squeezed the access water from it. He came back to where you laid.

Grabbing, a handful of the blankets he pulled them off your body. A smile curled his lips, as you were still naked from before. Once the blanket pulled back. He was over you, though careful to not disturb you or at least he hoped so for the moment. He kissed your hip, enjoying its subtle curve. With a gentle hand he opened you a little more for him.

When you were just right, he knelt between your legs. He gently rubbed wash cloth on your center which was still puffy from earlier which made him swell with pride and the dragged the was cloth on your thighs. He smiled once he was done. Turning, he tossed the wash cloth into the master bath.

Easing himself down, he placed soft kisses on your thighs. Placing kisses over your warm core, he inhaled your scent that was a spicy sweet mix of you. Holding you, he dragged his tongue against you. He went deeper still, he lapped at your smaller core before teasing your opening. Damn, only thing that was better was kissing you. He sighed as he could feel as you grew wetter.

Pulling back he teased you and kissed at your thighs again. Moving in close again, he licked you deep entering you with his tongue. That’s when he heard the first moan but he pretended he didn’t hear it. He moved his lips and tongue to his favorite parts down there. He couldn’t help but finally smirk as he felt your fingers in his hair. Your fingers gently caressed at his scalp and he loved it.

He glanced up at you, as his tongue continued to lap at you. Your head was tossed back as far back as possible your eyes closed in passion, your mouth was slack with the moans that came from you.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obession @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @starwarsprequelfangirl @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @whyisgmora @theblackmaskclub @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @primadonna-girl23 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

TO THE MOON AND BACK - ft. ???

You feel winded and you're not sure why. Like you'd been walking on cloud nine and were now falling through the atmosphere, plummeting toward the ground at incredible speeds. When you speak, it doesn't really sound like you. "Yes." Because he was exactly right - you were a hopeless romantic. Always had been. It was hard not to be when your parents were childhood sweethearts and love was the thing you'd been chasing your whole life.

alt summary. You use your one brain cell for love. It doesn’t always end well.

pairing. who knows, honestly. the obvious ones are kim taehyung and jeon jungkook, though.

tags. blind date, strangers, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, getting to know each other, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, romantic comedy.

rating. general (for now?)

word count. ~6000

chapter 1.

You weren't sure what you were doing here.

Sure, you'd signed the waiver, your favourite pen leaving a messy blue scrawl across the crisp weight. You'd acknowledged all of the terms and dated the bottom left-hand corner, humming quietly to yourself as you'd done so. You'd read the document once, then twice for good measure, politely asking for a copy of it when the petite assistant had come to take the pages off your hands.

But you still weren't sure what had brought you here, to this exact place at this exact time.

Standing in the spacious studio with a dozen hangers hung over your arms, ready to air your life for millions to see. Were you really ready for this - whatever it was?

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly nervous. Your fingers are experiencing a strange tingling sensation you only recognize from times of stress - waiting for your results after an exam, the minutes after a first date, any time your umma calls without messaging first. It's descending down the tips of your fingers, shooting like electricity through the live wire of your bones. Suddenly, every minute movement of your neck feels like it takes all the strength in the world and your chest feels like it might explode from the labour of your breaths.

"Ready?" It's the assistant again, bouncing toward you in her Fila Disrupters. Very stylish. She's staring up at you expectantly, though that shifts quickly to concern when you don't immediately respond. "... Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I'm fine." To her relief, you answer her follow-up almost immediately, a chipper smile plastered across your face. It's a touch forced, the edges pressing your cheeks a little too far into your eyes, the tension in your jaw almost making it look like you're grimacing. Almost.

"Great! Come with me."

Your fingers fumble with the button of your jeans, missing the hole twice before a groan of frustration fills the enclosed space. You're so anxious you can feel the nervous energy filling you up like a balloon, dragging your poor body from the familiar weight of your bones. Your hands won't stop shaking and they're so cold. You can feel the chill through the denim of your pants when you rub your palms over your thighs in an effort to bring blood rushing back to them.

"Please come out when you're ready." The voice speaks over the public address system wired into the ceiling.

You glance up from your little dressing room, noting the soft yellow that now illuminates your space. It floods the walls you can barely make out over the top of your dressing stall. You notice, with some amusement, that it matches the yellow of your socks that rise above your ankles and disappear into the hem of pants.

"Relax. It'll be fun," you tell yourself before counting to three and trying your button again.

It slots into its rightful home on your first go. That must be a sign, right?

You exhale deeply, pushing all the air from your lungs as you face the mirror on the back of the door. You blink at your reflection, smoothing your fringe until it falls just right over the rim of your glasses, barely grazing your line of vision. You watch the way you chew your own lip, grateful you've got nothing but bubble-gum flavoured lip balm on, and nod. It's reminiscent of a child on their first day of school.

Then you force yourself out of the stall before you can talk yourself out of it, peeking around the corner of the door.

You're not sure what you'd been expecting but it definitely isn't this.

Because he's tall and broad, with shoulders that fall like a mountain range and a mop of dark hair. It curls over his ears and looks unkept but purposefully so, pushed behind his ears. The coat he wears fits across his back, hugging his silhouette as it falls to his knees. Plaid trousers hold his legs, cut directly above his bare ankle. He looks like a goddamn fashion model and you haven't even seen his face.

"Oh, hi." His voice is warm and heavy, like a weighted blanket or hot cocoa on Christmas Day.

It envelopes you in bass and makes your stomach flip in anticipation.

He's right across from you now, sliding into the high director's chair that sits directly opposite from where you are, half-pulled into your seat. He's as handsome as you would've imagined, the slope of his jaw and curve of his cheekbone seemingly carved by Michelangelo himself. Thin gold frames - eerily similar to yours - sit on the high bridge of his nose and behind them, eyes crinkle from the force of his big, boxy smile.

You find yourself at a loss for words for the second time in not very long, only managing a soft, "hello."

He seems to find that endearing, a soft laugh - one that very clearly echoes ha ha ha in the quiet room - drifting from where he sits. You feel your face flush, shifting through the colour wheel before landing on an embarrassingly vivid shade of magenta. You can see if in your reflection from behind his shoulder when you finally make yourself comfortable, only then meeting his open, curious stare.

"I like your pants." He gestures toward you as if he could be talking to anyone else, the diffused golden glow catching against the thin rings he wears.

"Thank you." You try not to mumble, offering a sweet albeit small smile in return. You're pleased with your choice and in turn, his compliment. You loved these jeans, had worn them for years since you'd bought them one summer in Tokyo. They hug you just right, sitting close to your waist and through your hips before relaxing into a chic 70's inspired straight flare. It doesn't matter that there's paint on the left knee - from that time you'd hosted a wine and paint night at your apartment - or that the frays on the hem are in dire need of trimming.

"Should we get started?" There he is, leading the conversation again. You feel a little bad, though that flies out the proverbial window when he's leveling you with another one of his smiles. It's hard to feel anything but child-like happiness when he looks like sunshine and middle school crushes.

You nod, turning your attention to your phone.

The screen reads START: PERCENT OF INTEREST FROM FIRST IMPRESSION. You immediately want to enter 100, your fingers moving to tap the requisite numbers before you're hesitating, hovering over the "1" as it taunts you. Was that too high? What if they showed him? Would he be turned off by how eager you were?

You're dragging your bottom lip through your teeth over and over again, stuck on a decision. Was he experiencing the same turmoil?

You steal a peek at him, hoping to be as covert as possible. He's staring straight at you, amusement written into the way his mouth twists, fighting back the laughter that sounds like music to your ears. His phone rests loosely in his right hand. Clearly, he's made his choice already.

You huff and enter 85, still not entirely happy with your decision by the time the next question pops up.

BASED ON OUTFIT 1 (SCHOOL), YOUR NAME IS _____, YOU ARE _____ YEARS OLD, AND YOU LIVE IN _____.

You had to guess his name? That was going to be impossible.

Or not, you think as his fingers glide across his screen, seemingly unfazed by the challenges currently presented. Maybe that was for the better, though. Maybe it would help you gain some sort of idea into who this stranger was, with his soft white tee shirt and expensive Hermès belt.

Even as you're filling out the answers, you can feel his eyes boring into your head like two little laser beams. You're sure that's why your cheeks are burning up and your have to retype your last answer three times, messing up the characters like you haven't spent your entire life writing them. How could he be so comfortable? His fingers aren't even twitching, instead leisurely curled between his legs as he studies you. He looks like he has nothing to hide, blinking innocently at you when you drag your gaze from his hands, his brown leather watch strap.

"Your name is Kim Nari." He's speaking seconds after you've pressed enter, alerted of the fact by the small chime of his phone. If he notices the way your brow furrows, he doesn't react, reading his answers with easy reassurance. "You're twenty-threeyears old and you live in Itaewon."

It brings you some sort of joy as you shake your head, hand raised with your thumb and forefinger curled in. "Three strikes and you're out." You laugh and then he's joining you, the sounds slotting easily together like a harmony. "My name is Cho Jiyeon." His words are forming the syllables silently, as if testing out the way it feels. You can't help but smile at that, nose scrunching as he does it again, repeating it like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. " I'm twenty-two and I live in Hongdae." You don't acknowledge the fact that he's technically right - your actual birthday is in a few days.

"I see." Your corrections are accepted as easily as he breathes. "Nice to meet you, Cho Jiyeon."

"Really, Nari?" You can't help but tease, manicured brow quirking curiously.

"You're pretty, so I thought you'd have a pretty name," he says plainly. You can't help but snort, hiding the sound behind your palms as laughter shakes your shoulders. Had he managed to compliment and insult you all at once? "You still have a pretty name."

Now it's his turn to laugh, your reaction of wild head shaking and face covering causing him to stifle his own into the back of his hand.

"It's your turn."

So it is. "Your name is Yun Taewoo and you're twenty-five?" The first two come as questions more than answers but you're almost certain of your last one. "You live in Cheongdam."

By his smirk, you're either terribly right or miserably wrong.

When his head tilts, you're reminded of a golden retriever or a teddy bear, his dark eyes twinkling at you from behind his spectacles. "My name is Kim Taehyung." You're not sure how you ever thought it would've been anything else by how well it fits him. "You're right, I'm twenty-five." Here comes the winner, you think. "And I also live in Hongdae."

Dammit dammit dammit.

Taehyung can see the disappointment in your eyes and his own are waning into crescent moons, dragged into the shape by his all-encompassing grin. "My parents live in Cheongdam, if that helps." It doesn't really, but you appreciate the effort, visibly relaxing at his concession. You've known each other for all of fifteen minutes and he's already worming his way into your silly little schoolgirl heart.

"It does. Thanks." You're giggling around your gratitude, allowing your eyes to trail pointedly at the timepiece on his wrist. It cost more than one of your semesters. "The Cartier was kind of a giveaway."

"But you recognized it," he teases back warmly.

"Touché."

"My turn again." A soft cough to clear his throat before he repeats the next question.

YOUR MAJOR IS _____, YOUR GPA IS _____, AND AT SCHOOL YOU ARE _____.

"Your major is art, your GPA is 3.1, and at school, you're an outsider."

You're not sure whether to be offended that you're seemingly so easy to read, a hand flying to your throat. "Are you following me?" You're asking before you can help it, earning a hearty laugh from Taehyung. He's shaking his head, awfully proud that he's just struck the nail on the head. "I'm actually doing a double major, so I'll give you that. My GPA is actually 3.9, though." You can't help your own pride from sneaking in, colouring your words in shades of gold as you beam. It only falters when you consider his last guess. "What makes you think I'm an outsider?"

Not that he was wrong, per se, but you're a little surprised. You'd never been unpopular but you just kept to yourself, drifting from different friend groups as you saw fit.

"You don't want to forced into a box, so you're an outsider. You choose to be."

You have no answer for that so you instead engage in a peculiar staring match until your eyes burn and you're blinking rapidly.

"Your major was business, your GPA was 3.5, and you were a total insider." Maybe it's the fact that he figured you out so easily that you feel uncertain about your own answers.

He shakes his head, ever the gentleman. "No, sorry. I was a fashion major and my GPA was 3.0." He pauses thoughtfully, considering the implications of being an inssa. He supposes you're right, though he'd never really thought of himself as one. Just someone that was well-liked and never turned away. "Good try, though." Again, encouragement. It makes you like him for more than his charming smile and fashion-sense.

"I'll get you next time."

"I'm sure you will," he returns without even a hint of sarcasm. "Next outfit?"

You nod, slipping from your seat and all but skipping into your dressing stall. As you disappear back inside, you catch his smile in the reflection of your door and bite back your own.

The nerves that had melted over the course of your conversation seem to have come back in full force, spreading warmth over your cheeks as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You've smoothed your hands over the soft corduroy of your skirt at least ten times now, straightening the hem this way and that in the pursuit of getting it to sit just right over your thighs.

"Just go back outside. He's nice. Stop freaking out." The reprimands are filling the small space and you feel almost overwhelmed. Outfit number two was supposed to be a date outfit and just the word had your hands clamming out, heat licking up the back of your neck.

It's not that you weren't used to dating - he was just really cute.

Adjusting the collar of your turtleneck - soft, black, draped in all the right places and tucked neatly into the waist of your skirt - you nod again. It's your little way of building yourself up before you're stepping back outside, arms sliding into the sleeves of your grey tartan blazer. You look good. Taehyung had even said so. You could do this.

No, no, no. You can't do this. Not when he looks like that.

He's beat you to his seat, an Adonis in black. Gone is the loose white shirt from earlier, replaced now by an inky top that sinks against his skin. The collar is open, the top two buttons undone to reveal the honeyed expanse of his chest. You're not sure whether you want to bury your face into it or his silky shirt and it takes you a moment to remind yourself that's terribly inappropriate.

"I like this look," you offer, hardly able to tear your eyes away from him as you settle back into your chair. You can't help but notice how he smiles, gloating like he's all too aware of his effect on you. He even readjusts, opening his arms to you as if to urge you on, when you continue to inspect his clothes.

The pants he wears are different now, an expensive textured fabric that hugs his thighs and drapes across his shins, falling just above his ankle like before. There's no visible sock line and his shoes - black calfskin loafers with little tassels across the tops - scream expensive. You'd hazard a guess they're Saint Laurent or Prada. The only thing carried over from his last outfit is his watch, now stacked with delicate silver chains and a single red yarn bracelet you'd noticed earlier. Even his hair is different, effortlessly styled and sweeping across his brow in soft, easy waves that beg to be touched.

"I like yours, too," he coos, that smug expression never faltering. You try not to blush beneath his stare, trapping your hands beneath your legs as you allow him the same courtesy.

Your thigh high socks sit just beneath where your palms rest, black a stark contrast to your skin and the brown of your skirt. Your toes wiggle experimentally in the boots you're wearing, the ever popular sock-style blending seamlessly with the material of your stockings. You can feel the lines of your rings where your skin is exposed, the same silver resting at the small of your throat in layered necklaces and at your ears in intricate loops.

He can't help but linger when the light catches the metal of your jewelry or when you shift nervously, thighs pressing together. More than a small part of him enjoys you squirming under his gaze. It's coquettish, even if it isn't meant to be.

"Do you want to go first?" The words break whatever spell you'd been under and you re-focus on the device in your lap. You nod before you've read the question thoroughly, flushing once you've had a chance to do so.

BASED ON OUTFIT 2 (DATE), YOU'VE RECEIVED _____ ROMANTIC CONFESSIONS AND HAVE BEEN IN A RELATIONSHIP _____ TIMES.

They really didn't beat around the bush, did they?

You're tapping out your response, pushing forward when you stop to think. It was just two numbers.

When the familiar ding of your phones breaks the relative silence, you look back up. Of course, he's already watching you, ever the active participant. "You, Kim Taehyung, have received more than twenty romantic confessions and you've been in a relationship more than ten times."

Something like surprises steals across his face, contorting his expression into one you hadn't seen yet.

"Wrong." There's no further elaboration and for a moment, you have the urge to apologize. Had you offended him? "I've received more than twenty romantic confessions but I've only been in a relationship twice."

Now it's your turn to be surprised, your eyebrows disappearing into your hairline. How did someone look like that and not date? It seemed like such a waste.

"Shocking, right?" Taehyung takes the words right out of your mouth but they feel wrong when uttered back at you. "Both relationships were long-term. Five and four years, respectively, so I never really had time to date anyone else." A hand adorned in Gucci rings cards through his silky mop of hair, smoothing it away from his forehead before it falls back into place perfectly. "Don't worry - I'm not offended you think I'm such a Casanova."

You can't help but scowl at his words. He's right and you're being called out so hard.

"You've probably had more than ten confessions and..." You're not sure whether he's really trying to remember what he'd written or if he's just drawing it out, teasing you mercilessly like its his newly discovered favourite pastime. "Five boyfriends?"

"Ah - you got those right!" You're not bothered by his accurate guesses this time. In fact, you clap as if his success somehow belongs to both of you. He finds that endearing. He likes the idea of the two of you as a team.

"Next one? Go ahead."

You double check your next answer, trying not to laugh when you remember what you'd entered.

YOU FEEL ATTRACTED TO SOMEONE WHO IS _____. YOU ARE ACTIVE/PASSIVE DURING THE DAY AND ACTIVE/PASSIVE AT NIGHT.

"Kim Taehyung," you meet his eyes when you say his name and for a second, you lose your train of thought. His lashes are so thick and dark and without his glasses on, you swear you can see the constellations in his irises. "Um." He snickers and you roll your eyes, rereading the small font on your device screen. "You are attracted to someone who shares your confidence and who will rise to challenges with you. You're active during the day and..." You don't dare look up. "You're also active during the night."

To your benefit, you both collapse into laughter, doubled over in your chairs as the double entendre sits salaciously between you.

"You're not wrong," he drawls, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you. If you were closer, you think you'd swat his arm or nudge his foot - anything to demonstrate that you think he's an absolute dork. "I want someone who can be my partner in crime and I'm active all the time." He leans heavily into the implication, dragging the "ah" in all out like he's trying to break it over his tongue.

"Okay, Casanova. Your turn."

He hums, not even bothering to look at his screen as he studies you, eyes ticking from the way your long, dark hair cascades over your shoulder to the wine-stain you'd pressed into your full lips. "You're attracted to someone who excites you and makes you feel wanted." By the way he's drinking you in, you think he could be talking about himself. "You're active in the day and passive at night."

When he says passive, it almost feels wrong. Dirty. Like it should be whispered into the shell of your ear and not spoken so casually from three feet away.

You have to remind yourself you're sitting in a studio, surrounded by production staff.

"I do like to sleep a lot." You manage once the flutter in your chest has subsided, allowing you to find your breath again. It still feels a little airy, a little like the wings of butterflies are tugging the words out of your chest. "But I think everyone wants to be desired, don't you? I don't think that's specific to me."

"Then why don't you tell me what kind of person you're attracted to?" He doesn't say it but you hear it in his voice - the unspoken question. Is it me?

You're not ready for that conversation, nor do you think this is the place to have it. "I think we should change."

The third time you exit your dressing stall, you're out before Taehyung is, giving you a moment's reprieve as you climb into your chair.

You're more comfortable than you have been, both mentally and physically, but it's nice to have these few extra moments of peace. He was just so much - it was hard to focus when he caught your stare or he did that thing with his tongue, pink gliding across his bottom lip. You were ready to take back some control. Hopefully his daily outfit was as casual as yours. You didn't think you could handle another peek of that chiseled frame.

God, when had you become so easy to please?

"That was quick." He's popping his head out of his room and gliding into his seat in what feels like one fluid motion. Well, he certainly seems spirited.

"What can I say? I'm fast." It's enough to make him chuckle because very clearly, you were not fast, but he wasn't about to call you on that. Not when you two were getting along so swimmingly. "Shall we get started?"

You don't even wait for his response before you're studying your phone again, considering the two latest questions.

BASED ON OUTFIT 3 (DAILY), WHAT YOU HEAR OFTEN FROM YOUR FRIENDS IS _____ AND WHAT YOU HEAR FROM YOUR PARENTS IS _____?

That was easy enough, you think, free hand fiddling with the pocket on your thigh. The cargo pants you wear sit easily on your hips, the beige material matching the seat. You're back in sneakers - all-white Converse with a small platform - and your glasses are perched on the bridge of your nose. You're aware of a draft on your shoulder, the soft wool of your camel and blush cardigan having drifted low across your shoulder.

You fill out your answer with ease, sparing Taehyung a glance when you're finished and realizing, much to your surprise, he's still typing.

"You can go first, when you're done."

The only indication he's heard you is the bob of his head so you take his preoccupation as time to admire his latest fashion choices.

Wide-legged trousers that look extremely comfortable, falling easily over backless Gucci loafers. His shirt is French-tucked, the drape of his taupe top relaxed. The watch remains where it has been, though the other jewelry that had previously accompanied it is gone. He's got a chic black beret pulled over his ears, causing strands at the nape of his neck to curl adorably. He looks every inch an off-duty model and you have to remind yourself to stop gawking when he begins speaking.

"What you hear most from your friends is 'don't forget' and what you hear most from your parents is 'did you eat?'"

You think his streak must be running out and he sees that reflected in your goofy smile, one of his own framing his face. "Nope. My friends say 'get some sleep' and my parents ask 'how is school?' Good try."

He shrugs, mouthing something like 'you win some, you lose some' before sliding his phone back into his pocket. "Go ahead."

"What Kim Taehyung hears the most from his friends is 'I can't believe it' and what he hears most from his parents is 'visit more often.'" You'd been reading your screen, lifting the words verbatim, so when you look up and catch his expression, you're startled. For the first time, Taehyung looks unsure, though it lasts only a fraction of a second before he's nodding, his sweet laughter sinking into your molars like honeycomb and cavities.

"Close enough. My friends usually say something like 'you're kidding me' but you're right about my parents."

Maybe that's why he looked so sad, you realize with a little twinge of guilt. You consider asking a follow-up but by the way he pulls his phone out, you know it's a conversation better left for another time. Like perhaps a second date.

YOUR ALCOHOL LIMIT IS _____ AND YOU SMOKE _____ A DAY.

He's already reading his answer to the second question by the time you tune in fully.

"Cho Jiyeon, your alcohol limit is two bottes of soju and you don't smoke." You wouldn't say he's exactly right but you relent, nodding in agreement.

"Between two and four, depending on the day." There's a story there and it intrigues him but he says nothing, instead waiting for your appraisal of his tolerance. He's ready to completely blow your mind. "Your limit is... four bottles? You definitely don't smoke."

It's with pride that Taehyung shakes his head, chest puffed out and lips pursed. "My tolerance is one - one shot." He can't help but laugh when you level him with disbelief. "I don't like the taste," he continues, completely unashamed. He's dealt with enough teasing from his closest friends so he's used to the incredulous stare you're currently giving him, unfazed as he beams at you.

"I never would've guessed," you quip, thoughtful.

"I'm full of surprises."

You think it's a promise, like the guarantee of buried treasure or calm in the eye of the storm. "I'm sure you are."

Your final change makes you feel like you're at home, despite the fact that you're nowhere close to it. It's nice to be in your pyjamas in the middle of the day, even if you didn't normally wear the set that currently sits on your body.

"Last one," you say to yourself, peering closely at your hair, your lips, the way your shorts feel a little shorter than usual.

Then you pull yourself out for the last time and plop yourself into your chair, smiling brightly at Taehyung when he exits in the same instant as you.

He's in silk pyjama bottoms, the navy a stark contrast against his feet - which are slotted into soft shearling slippers. The top looks oddly familiar, the white stirring a memory that you're not sure how to place. "Hey - I recognize this," you state uncertainly, gesticulating at his broad chest. He looks down and a smile so shy your heart could cry spreads across his face. Maybe you're wrong but it looks like the tips of his ears are suddenly red beneath his crown of softly mused strands.

"I don't normally sleep with a shirt on," he confesses, delicate fingers brushing the shoulder of his top. He's not quite meeting your eyes, that seem dusting of rouge seeping over his hollowed cheeks and across his temples.

"Oh," is all you can say, just as bashful.

As if to ease the unusual weight that's settled over the two of you, he speaks again, earnest. "I like your sweater."

You pick at the item in question, thumbing over the worn hem. It's incredibly soft from years of wear, a gift from your father when he'd visited for business years ago. The formerly vivid stitching on the first letter is starting to come undone, the remaining letters of HARVARD all in equal states of distress. Still, it's comforting and oversized, drowning you in its shape and making you look more diminutive than your lissome stature already does.

A leg draws up, about to pull to your chest, but then you think better of it. You're in shorts - worn jersey ones taken from a matching pyjama set you'd once gotten as a birthday gift - and you're reminded of how little they'd covered when standing, so you settle for crossing your ankles. The bears printed on your socks - three stacked at various levels across the top of your foot, your ankle, your calf - cross as well.

"Thanks."

"Do you want to go first this time?"

It's nice that he's so considerate. You nod, turning your attention to the last few questions. You realize, with the smallest hint of disappointment, that there are only two left.

BASED ON OUTFIT 4 (PYJAMAS), YOU WANT TO LIVE UNTIL _____ YEARS OLD. THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN YOUR LIFE IS _____.

You're not sure whether it's the fact that your time with him is coming to an end or the questions themselves but you feel odd, a lump forming in your stomach. Whatever it is, you try to push it from your thoughts, ignoring the weight it carries in favour of giving further consideration to your answers.

"I think you want to live until ninety years old." That made sense, right? Most people wanted to live out there lives as long as they could, watching the generations span after them and basking in the pride of a life-well lived. "The most important thing in your life is growth." Okay, so maybe that was a bit of a stretch. Could you really know someone that well after only such a short period with them?

You think so, because after everything so far, you felt like you did.

"Ninety would be nice," he agrees after a moment, biting his bottom lip as he weighs his next words. "The most important thing in my life is being true to myself." So you were wrong - but that was also a really deep question. You feel like it's not fair and he can clearly see that when he grins, gracious and giving. "I think growth means staying honest to myself, though."

You think you could kiss him and absorb some of that sunny goodness.

"You want to live until you're ninety, too." A small part of you doubts he'd use the same age, that suspicion deepening when he doesn't even bother looking at his written answers. "The most important thing in Cho Jiyeon's life is love. Am I right?"

The reason you'd even agreed to appear on this silly video segment.

"What about age?" He prompts, not skipping a beat.

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I don't think I'd mind when I died if I found love before that."

You're not sure whether the look Taehyung gives you is affectionate or pitying because you're not really looking at him, instead focused pointedly on the paint that coats your nails and the way your knuckles flex beneath your ministrations.

"Last one," he chirps, snapping you from your careful consideration of your own humanity.

You don't answer, instead rereading the last answer you'd filled out.

IF WE WERE LOVERS WHO BROKE UP, WE WOULD HAVE DATED BECAUSE OF _____ AND BROKEN UP BECAUSE OF _____.

It felt a little too close to home and yet, you were in the home stretch. You'd be held here in this little piece of forever until you answered.

He begins before you get a chance to, impossibly softer than he'd been previously. "If we were lovers who broke up, we would have dated because you felt like my other half." You have to remind yourself that it's all hypothetical but his voice is so alluring, like a lullaby you'd like to slip into dreamland listening to. Even the way he details your imaginary breakup is beguiling, low timbre hitting some chord in your heart you weren't aware existed. "We would have broken up because you'd always be chasing a vision of me - and not the real me."

Emotion wells in your chest and in your throat and behind your eyes and you have to swallow thickly, forcing the onslaught down before you're crying in front of the cameras and making a fool of yourself.

You'd written something silly but as you prepare to answer the same question, it feels far too inconsequential, like a child playing dress-up.

"If we were lovers, we would have dated because I was your muse." His mouth quirks at that, though you can't see from the way you're staring at your hands still and it's short-lived. "We would have broken up because I couldn't keep up with you." It's not what you'd originally opted for but it feels better. Right. Like it could be true, in some fantasy world where people like him ended up with people like you.

Silence drags on once you've finished speaking. You could hear a pin drop - and think you do. It might just be someone's pen slipping from their hand.

Your eyes meet, like kismet, after what feels like forever. He smiles and you can imagine that same, sad thing mirrored in your own expression.

"Please give us your percent of interest based on your final impression." The public address system again, tearing your little illusion to shreds. He's a stranger again, someone you've only met for the purpose of this YouTube video.

You glance down at your phone and without thinking, press that frightful "1" followed by two 0's. You see him enter his score.

And then the lights are fading from a rosy glow, replaced by the standard professional lighting. The curtains have closed and the production assistants are milling over, thanking you for your time and advising of when you might expect to see the video up. You're barely listening.

Because Taehyung's already gone.

notes. i've never written this much in one sitting. i hope you enjoy it! as always, feedback appreciated.

141 notes · View notes

bangtanloverboys · 4 years

Text

“There’s something tragic about you” // jhs

summary - after your usual model cancels on you for your art project, your best friend comes to the rescue.

pairing - jung hoseok x gender neutral!art student!reader

genre - fluff (read warnings tho)

word count - 1.7k

warning - nudity, like 1 swear word, kissing, the classic titantic reference

author’s note - this was a sentence starter from this prompt list and it was sent in by @mlkydrms not sure if you wanted angst but this is what came out of it. hope you like it!

If you told yourself this morning that your best friend was going to be modeling for one of your art projects, you wouldn’t have believed it. Why? Because your final had to include a nude model and no way was Jung Hoseok going to be nude in front of you.

Yet here you were, 4 pm in the afternoon in your living room waiting for Hoseok to exit the bathroom.

Originally, you were supposed to have Jin be your model. He has been your model partner for a few projects now, he was just effortless to draw, especially his details. Unfortunately, he got the stomach flu and needed to stay home to recuperate. You were no stranger when it came to cancellations and rain checks when working with models, however the project was due in the next three days. You stupidly put aside all your project to try and focus on your other courses, as did Seokjin. But now there was not enough time for you to fully pull together a full piece with Jin being sick.

This had led to you slowly freaking out, before you reached full blown panic mode, you called Hoseok. While he wasn’t always the best with words, he was a great listener and even the smallest thing from him made you smile. As you told him your predicament, the line went silent for a few moments.

“What if. . . I was your model?”

“Excuse me what?” You were stunned at his suggestion. “Hobi. . . it’s a nude painting I need to work on-”

“I know.” He stated, how he was speaking so calmly about this blew your mind. “Your project is due soon, and you need a model. I’m more than happy to help, unless you don’t want me to?”

You bit your lip in thought. He was right, you needed a model and needed one now. You could ask one of your other friends, but here was your best friend offering himself up on a silver plate. Letting out a sigh, you agreed. Hoseok said he’d be over in a bit so that gave you plenty of time to set up and prepare yourself to see. . .all of him.

Soon as he arrived though, there was this sort of air of awkwardness. You instructed him to go into the bathroom to strip and there was a towel for him to cover himself. He nodded and quickly excused himself. You could see it in the tips of his ears that he was just as nervous as you were about this, seeing him naked was one thing you really weren’t sure about. Because as cliche as it is, you held feelings for him. You already held back on your feelings in fear of it hurting your friendship, but how would seeing him naked impact your friendship.

The clearing of a throat pulled you from your thoughts, you turned your head to see Hoseok standing there, his golden chest revealed to the world and a white towel held tightly around his waist. You resisted the urge to drool as he shuffled into the living room to where you set up the makeshift studio.

“Uhh where do you want me?”

You quickly looked between him and the set up. “Sit on the box, back facing me.” You watched as he quickly discarded the towel around his waist and followed your instruction. “Bend your left leg, tuck your right underneath it. Right arm goes to the back and drape your left arm over your bent leg.” Hoseok assumed the pose but he still looked a bit stiff. “Hobi, you can back out if you want to. . .”

“I’m fine!” His voice squeaked. “I mean, I’m fine just. . .new experiences, right?”

You gave him a light smile and nodded. “For the both of us. Now relax your shoulders, you look like you’re being held at gunpoint.” That surely got a kick out of him, his shoulders bounced as he chuckled. “Stop moving!”

“Alright, alright.” He rolled his eyes at you. You could feel his stare as you walked over to your seat and picked up your canvas and charcoal. “You gonna draw me like one of your French girls?”

“Oh my god, how long have you been holding that in?” You rolled your eyes at the cheesy predictable joke. Hoseok just laughed at your reaction, you narrowed your eyes at him and held up the charcoal threateningly. “Sit still and don’t smile!”

Then you got to work, you eyed him carefully before making any strict movement on the canvas. With him being a dance major, it was no surprise to you that he was fit, but you never really did appreciate Hoseok muscle build before now; you were glad you were finally given the excuse. He wasn’t built too big, but there was a softness around each and every edge of him.

The two of you just sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being of your sketching. You started to feel his eyes on you as you were working on his torso. “Eyes off me, Hoseok.”

“So you get to eye me up while I have to look at the wall? How cruel,” he tsked, but he followed your order and looked back away. “You just look cute when your concentrating.”

You nearly snap your charcoal pencil in half. “C-come again?”

“You do this really cute thing where you stick your tongue out and scrunch your nose whenever you’re trying to work.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. You could feel your face flush at his words. “You’re even cuter when you blush.”

“Where is this coming from, exactly?” You ask, trying your best to continue the piece and not fuck it up.

“I dunno, the fact I’m not wearing pants at the moment has strangely given me the nerve to flirt with you.” He looked at you from the side of his eyes and raised his eyebrows at you.

“And on that note, I’d like to ask if we could put this conversation on hold until you have your pants back on.” He nodded and the silence resumed.

The torso and arms finished, all you had left was his head. You squint your eyes as you try to find and take in every last detail of his face. The curve of his nose to the sharpness of his jawline to each loose strand of his dark locks. Hoseok really was a man to behold. While you didn’t have a good angle on his eyes, you focused really hard on them, trying to capture him completely.

“Aand, done.” You said, signing off the piece and dating it at the bottom. With the word, he relaxed his arms and let out a sigh. You watched as he leaned over to grab his towel to once again, cover his modesty. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back. “Sore?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how Jin-hyung does it.” He groaned, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and ease the ache.

“Yoga, and a long hot shower afterwards.” You say honestly. “He used to take them at my place but after the amount of projects, my water bill was going up so I had to kick him out.”

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound half bad right now.” He noted.

“What? The long hot shower or me kicking you out?” You laugh at his strange statement.

“The hot shower,” he snarkily replied. “Can I see it?”

“Oh yeah sure,” canvas in hand, you take a few steps over to where Hoseok sat and hold out the canvas for him to see. He let out a silent ‘wow’ as he dragged his eyes over the drawing, drinking each and every detail. When his eyes came back up to his face, he had a puzzled look on his face.

“Can I ask something?”

“Why is something wrong?” You quickly looked back to the painting and tried to spot the possible mistake you made.

“No no no, there’s nothing wrong but, I just want to know what you like best about the drawing.” You watched as his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“Are you asking in general or because it’s you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Both possibly,” he laughed lightly at you. “What is it?”

“Hmm,” you take a good look at the picture. “Your expression. There’s something tragic about you, something beautifully tragic that just sort of draws me in.”

You look back up to him and he’s staring right back at you. “Beautifully tragic?”

“Shut up,” you place the canvas off to the side. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he moved his head to try and look at you. “I want to know what the artist sees.”

You sigh and take both of your charcoal covered hands and place them on either side of his face. You look over his features, trying to find the words to describe what you mean. “Your eyes. Your eyes look like you’re in love, yet you hold back.” Slowly, Hoseok’s face came closer to yours. “Like you’re scared of what might happen if you. . .”

He was mere centimeters away from you now, his breath was ghosting over your lips. “If I. . . ?” His eyes were still locked with yours.

“If you let yourself love.” You finished; with his face still in your hands, you trace your thumb over his cheek bone.

Hoseok’s eyes dropped down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. With your permission, he closes the distance between you and presses his lips to yours. Your hands move from his cheeks to his hair, making purchase in his lock. His arms snake around your waist, trying to pull you closer, but due to the awkward angle, it quickly grew uncomfortable and you both pulled away.

“So, are we gonna talk about it now?” Hoseok laughed, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know, are you wearing pants?” You snorted, “I meant what I said, go put pants on and we can have that conversation.”

“I believe you threw out that reasoning when you kissed me,” he retorted, but he complied and sat up, ready to get changed. But the sudden movement caused him to groan, “Second thought, I might need a hot shower.”

“Oh my god, just go!” You laughed at him as he stiffly made his way back to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes as you heard the shower turn on and let out a sigh, maybe it was a good thing you had a nude assignment.

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evilsnowswan · 4 years

Text

The Lake

Summary: After everything is said and done and Lex is finally defeated, Kara invites Lena to Sand Point Lake in Midvale. Out of all the places on earth she could be, a lake in the middle of nowhere doesn’t even make Lena’s Top 100, but it’s Kara who’s asking, so does she even have a choice? A.k.a. a fluffy Supercorp beach day.

Chapter One is POV Lena. Chapter Two POV Kara. They're both gay and dumb.

Loosely inspired by @lisamar1exo‘s glorious summertime supercorp art.

AO3: AO3 link via reblog (because tumblr doesn’t like links these days and I’m tired).

The Lake | Chapter (1/2): One (Lena)

Come to the lake with us, Lena? Please?

She had said yes. Not without hesitation or trepidation, but here she was: sunhat, sunglasses, spanking new two-piece, with her toes in the soft sand.

Swallowing back a sigh, Lena discreetly adjusted her bikini top. She had half hoped her assistant wouldn’t find something suitable—short notice, over lunch—for her to wear to this little outing, giving her an out. However, in something akin to a small miracle, Jess had returned a mere 30 minutes later with five options for Lena to choose from, stripping her of all excuses as she stripped down to her underwear in her office, cussing under her breath.

“Kara, could you—”

“Comin’! Already on it!”

The beach was only a short distance from the car park, and Lena watched from behind the safety of her big round sunglasses, as Kara hurried back to give her sister a hand with the cooler. Effortlessly, they lugged the huge blue thing between them, which—knowing both Kara and Alex—had to be filled with enough food to feed a small village. The two sisters led the way with Kelly not far behind. Nia half walked, half skipped alongside Kelly, little Eli squealing and laughing in her arms, the two of them clearly too flooded with excitement at the prospect of a beach day to contain any of it.

As a soft smile tugged at her lips, something else was tugging at her heart too, and Lena hastened to shove it back into the same box it had come from, mentally taping it and kicking it to the back of her mind. Hugging herself with one arm, gripping her left elbow tight, her nails dug into her skin as she lifted her chin and inhaled.

Of all the places in the world, how had she ended up here? At a fucking lake with her former best friend turned superhero, family and friends.

Her eyes swept over the gravel parking lot, turned skyward, then crashed in the sand at her feet. The sky and the water were intensely blue, the sandy beach was clean and white and deserted. Except for them, there wasn’t another soul in sight. Lena hadn’t expected a beach like this, not in a sleepy town like Midvale. It reminded her more of the one’s she’d seen in National Geographic or glossy travel brochures perhaps—except without the sprawl. Here the beach was nature, not real estate.

“Hello, Lena,” Alex let go of the cooler handle with a small grunt and shaded her eyes against the afternoon sun, as she stood beside Lena. Kelly smiled and waved hello as well, before sprinting after Eli in his sun suit, who was toddling straight for the water as fast as his chubby legs would allow, a blue-and-green sun hat clutched in her hand.

Alex chuckled, knuckles pressed to her mouth for a moment before she smiled and shook her head.

“Hello.” Lena looked directly into the sun. The heat felt almost too intense on her face.

“This is going to be GREAT!” Kara’s outdoor voice hitting her neck nearly had Lena flinch hard enough for it to be noticeable, and she clenched her jaw, letting out a jittery breath, before she turned to her with a smile. Kara rambled on about the snacks they had brought, the weather, and the breathtaking view, her ponytail swinging merrily as she set up shop in the sand.

Lena simply smiled and nodded, took off her hat and pushed her sunglasses up on her head before handing over towels, bags, and equipment as requested. All around them, people were busy spreading blankets and towels, setting up tables and chairs, and even putting up a small tent. Lena blinked as it popped up of its own accord and stood—shell-shaped and ready to shelter at least two adults and a small child from the sun. Oh. Ingenious.

“Wait—”

She paused, the rolled-up towel she was holding pressed to her middle.

Kara frowned, glancing at the sky, then back at Lena. The familiar crinkle appeared between her eyes and Lena felt something cool twist and coil in her belly.

It had been… months. Everything was fine. Fine between them now. Kara was Supergirl. Supergirl and she had worked together to stop the megalomaniac that was her brother from bringing about the apocalypse yet again. All was well. Except, that was the thing, wasn’t it? She’d worked with Supergirl, but her friendship with Kara…

“Lena?”

She looked up to find Kara holding onto the pole of a large green-and-orange umbrella, firmly pushing and twisting it deep into the ground. A feat, Lena was fairly certain, not humanly possible.

Even as her brain made the connection and deduced that her help wasn’t needed, her body had already taken a step forward and let the towel drop, so she could steady the pole as Kara fumbled to open the umbrella, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her teeth.

“There should be a cord somewhere…” She mumbled, ducking her head beneath the sturdy material and reappearing a moment later, gesturing empty-handed. “There’s a little… thing attached to it,” she said, blushing. “At the end. It goes through one of these.” She indicated small holes along the pole, and Lena nodded. Yes, easy.

“Just one sec…” Kara vanished in between the folds of the umbrella again, the massive thing nearly swallowing her whole, leaving only her calves and bare feet visible.

Lena had to bite her tongue not to laugh.

“Aha!” Triumphant, Kara held up the cord. Her face was flushed and her hair wild, sticking out on the back of her head from the static.

One of Lena’s hands flew to her mouth, but didn’t make it there in time.

Letting her hair down and brushing her fingers through it, Kara shot her an indignant look, which held no true outrage and immediately crumpled into a laugh of her own. “Not funny, Miss Luthor.” She stuck out her tongue playfully and Lena copied her, albeit having to wrangle her upbringing and Luthor-etiquette for the more human reaction first. Easygoing and playful didn’t come naturally to her and felt foreign on her features. Even as she joined in laughing, the feeling lingered like cheap perfume.

“Some would beg to differ… Miss Danvers.” She hadn’t meant for her voice to drop like that. And maybe it hadn’t? Not by much anyway, but the way Kara stopped in her tracks and cocked her head to one side contemplating her, one hand sneaking up to cover her heart—well, maybe it had.

Kara’s front teeth came down on her bottom lip and she sucked in half a smile.

Lena’s own mouth had gone dry. She pressed her lips together to dispel the feeling, her heart doing a funny nervous hop-skip in her chest as she stumbled about her thoughts, rooting around for something… else to say. She only just stopped herself from uselessly opening her mouth a few times—People don’t gape open-mouthed. That’s for primates at the zoo, Lena.—and found herself mirroring Kara once again instead, head tilting to make room for her hand to reach her neck and rub it.

“I-um,” Kara fiddled with the cord, tugged a little. The umbrella fluttered like a strange tropical bird. “Maybe-we shouldn’t be out in the sun. It’s...” Kara trailed off, ducking her head in a smile.

She had freckles—splashes of freckles fanning out across her cheeks. Lena was so distracted by them that she almost didn't duck in time when Kara opened the umbrella and it finally stood, tall and wide, casting them in shadow.

“Oh... gosh. Sorry!”

“And here I thought, we were past quarterly attempts on my life,” Lena deadpanned, shooting Kara a little smile so she’d take it as the joke it was meant to be.

Kara looked scandalized for a second, then pensive. “Hmm-hmm. It’s… it has been quiet, hasn’t it?” Lena could only try and guess at what she was thinking—Kara-thoughts or Super-thoughts?—but, either way, Kara’s mind seemed to be going a thousand miles a minute, turning her smile upside down and drawing her eyebrows together.

“That’s...a good thing, though, isn’t it?” Hands clasped, Lena fidgeted nervously, scolding herself in her head. Too soon. “Everyone safe and happy. That’s good, right?”

Kara’s gaze swept the beach, lingering on her sister setting up the grill and Kelly settling back on her lounger with a book while Nia and Eli enthusiastically dug a hole in the sand nearby, an array of colorful beach toys scattered about them. “Yeah,” she said softly, eyes settling on Lena’s face and searching it with a sudden intensity that made Lena flush. “They are okay, aren’t they?”

Maybe, one day, after several… bottles of wine, she’d tell her about the dead brother she didn’t want to miss, the mothers she had lost, the late nights spent in her office to fill the deafening silence with paperwork and overseas phone calls. Maybe. One day. Until then, okay would have to do. She was okay, they were okay.

“Yes,” Lena said.

When Kara smiled in response, she smiled with her whole face; the smile curving her lips and reaching to touch her eyes like a cat stretching out in a patch of sunlight, setting the watery blue ablaze.

“Yes,” Lena said again, with feeling. Even in the shade, the air did feel a little too hot. She shouldn’t have taken off her hat. “They are okay.”

Eyes still smiling, Kara nodded at the blanket and towels at their feet. “Sit first or swim first?”

Lena swallowed hard. “Sit, definitely sit.”

So they sat, Lena ditching the reports at the bottom of her bag for the novel she had brought and Kara flopping over onto her belly to thumb through a copy of National Girl, letting out a squeal of delight at the sight of the extra glued to the back.

Lena raised a brow at the high-pitched sound and watched as Kara tore open the packaging and admired the woven bracelets on her palm. Two identical pink-and-white bracelets with charms worked into them.

“Friendship bracelets,” Kara said, beaming. “Twin bracelets. Look, Lena!”

“They’re… nice?” Lena said, confused by the over-enthusiastic reaction the cheap accessories had elicited from Kara. She looked at the bracelets again, eyes following the pattern to the silver infinity charms, one in each of them.

Kara sat up on her heels and looked at her expectantly, scooting closer. “Um, it’s probably a little silly, but…” she laughed, looking at her hands and back at Lena. “Would you-I mean, I know, it’s–but- but would you maybe want to…?”

She looked down, hanging her head, her chest heaving, and it was such an endearing picture, Lena dropped her book into her lap and almost reached out to tip her chin back up.

“You-you don’t have to… if you don’t want—?” When Kara looked at her again, the deep red was undeniable in her cheeks and her pink lip was once again trapped between her relentless teeth. She worried it, glancing at the lake quickly, and the movement of her neck drew Lena’s eyes to places they had no business being, noting the lovely lush pinks and reds covering Kara’s chest, standing out most marvellously against her ultramarine bathing suit.

“I-I’d love to?” As soon as the words had left her, Lena squeezed her eyes shut, scrunching up her nose and feeling herself blush most ungraciously too, helpless heat erupting in her cheeks and travelling down like a landslide.

“So, sh-should I?”

Kara waited, her mouth falling open as Lena held out her left arm. She closed it again to smile at her—shyly, tentatively—her deep blush spreading over her cheeks and temples, and the after-image of sunlight reflecting off water, the visual burn-in, glistened bright in her eyes.

As Kara leaned over to tie the bracelet on Lena, her hair fell over her shoulder and into her face, and she blew out a breath that hit Lena’s wrist unprepared, firing up something that had been cold and long forgotten inside of her. Lena squirmed, but didn’t draw back, leaning into the sensation instead of away from it.

“There. All done!” Kara took her hand, lacing their fingers together, and held it up, so the bracelet freshly adorning her arm would be properly admired.

“Thank you,...Kara.”

Letting go, Lena laughed, a little breathless, and, with trembling fingers, picked up the other bracelet from Kara’s lap to reciprocate.

Kara immediately sat up, pulling back her shoulders, and kept unnaturally still for Lena as she held out her own arm.

Lena sucked in her bottom lip, willing her fingers to still long enough to tie the knot.

Her heart fluttering in her throat like a trapped hummingbird, she held onto the simple string a moment longer than strictly necessary, unable to look at Kara’s face or meet her eyes just yet. Instead, her gaze stopped and lingered on Kara’s chest rising and falling, regularly but rapidly.

Her one-piece bathing suit left her smooth, sun-kissed shoulders bare—or they would have been, if it hadn’t been for the straps of the halter-neck tied into a bow behind her neck. A bow that was, slowly but surely, coming undone right before Lena’s eyes, a gentle tan line visible where the fabric of the suit wasn’t quite pulled as tight anymore.

Dumbstruck, Lena’s hammering heart screeched to a halt, missing a beat, before it jumped out of her chest and ran screaming. Inhaling sandy heat, Lena held her breath as she reached out, unthinking, and, tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, managed to untie and retie the bow quickly, rocking back on her heels when she was done.

“Tha-thanks,” Kara spluttered.

Nodding, Lena stared at her hands in her lap. They were kneeling in the sand, so close now that their knees touched and, when she lifted her gaze by maybe a fraction, Lena could see Kara’s hands fidgeting with the bracelet on her arm, turning it around and around.

As the little silver charm caught the light, Lena’s eyes were drawn to the symbol, and she felt a wave of warmth wash over her that had nothing to do with either the heatwave or the still lake.

I gcónaí, she thought, taking herself by surprise. I gcónaí. Always.

“Beautiful…” Kara breathed, and Lena’s head snapped up. “They… they are pretty, the bracelets?”

Objectively speaking? No, absolutely not. They were what her mother would have referred to as ‘hideous nonsense’ and promptly cut off her with the sharp scissors. However, in Lena’s eyes the little trinkets grew more precious and more perfect with every second she felt the surprisingly soft string against her skin.

“You think so?” Smirking, Lena raised her chin, giving Kara a challenging look. Why did she stumble over her words all the time? Supergirl never did; oh, but Kara? Kara barely made it through a complete sentence on a good day. She’d almost forgotten about that. It was adorable.

“Uh-huh.” Kara’s eyes were wide and earnest. “It… it looks good on you.”

The compliment, silly and untrue as it might be—because the pink-and-white looked much nicer against Kara’s tanned skin than her own—the compliment made Lena’s heart glow, and it probably showed on her face—for Kara’s smile grew instantly and incessantly wider.

Lena watched Kara relax into it and licked her lips, bracing herself for the inevitable hug that had to be coming any minute now. How long had it been? Kara was a hugger, but they hadn’t hugged in… forever? Well, in a really, really long time, anyway.

As Kara’s eyes locked on hers, Lena suddenly wasn’t so sure she was ready for it.

“Hey, ladies!” Nia’s voice made them both jump. She’d materialized by their towels, somehow snuck up on them without either of them taking notice, and was now hovering at a few steps distance, mindful not to get sand all over their things. What she lacked in physical proximity, however, she made up in volume. “We’re going in. You two coming?” She grinned at them. “Eli says you ‘ave to.”

“Sure.” Kara laughed, turning to Lena. “Lena?”

They looked at her expectantly and Lena’s whole body tensed. Wavering, she gazed at the water. The lake suddenly seemed much bigger and rougher, the less-than-inviting blue-green much too cold for her heated skin, and she shook her head and shot Kara an apologetic smile. She seemed very eager to get going, but held back, and it made a sticky guilty feeling crawl down Lena’s spine.

“Pleeeease? Come on!” Nia whined, widening her stance with her hands on her hips.

Kara looked at Lena. Hesitated.

“You go,” Lena waved her on, picking up her book with her free hand. “I’m good here.” Her heart stuttered in her chest, thudding against her ribcage, rattling the bars. “Really. It’s fine. I still need to finish the chapter anyway.” She held up the book for emphasis.

“You sure?” Kara’s head was tilted, her eyes quizzical and probing, her concern prickling on Lena’s face.

“Yes,” Lena said, a little too quickly and a little too enthusiastically, attempting to gloss over it with a brilliant smile. “You go have fun!”

Kara still didn’t move and, by now, Nia had thrown decorum to the wind and sat down on one end of Lena’s towel, giving her puppy eyes over one shoulder. It would have been cute, for Nia was almost as cute as Kara when she pouted like this, and it almost worked on Lena too, for she risked another uneasy glance at the lake. However, as it was, Nia’s persistence only made her draw up her shoulders at the—seemingly inevitable—prospect of a swim, shuddering in spite of herself, but masking it as brushing sand off her arm.

“Luthor, I’m not taking no for an answer!” Nia warned, deepening her pout. She had French-braided her hair down each side; her yellow halter-neck bikini had white polka dots splattered all over it and the frilly bottoms matched, and she looked every bit the little sister Lena had so longingly wished for when she was younger. Oh, the irony.

“Children, lay off and let the adults enjoy their peace!” Alex Danvers had abandoned her perch by the cooler and now crossed over to where they sat, taking great care to stay in the shade and on towels and blankets at all times; swearing loud, child-friendly nonsense, when she accidentally stepped on the hot sand, breaking into a little funny sprint to get under their umbrella.

“Fu-fudge, that’s hot,” she muttered as she came to a stop next to them; then shot an equally heated glance at Kara. “But someone took the liberty of leaving my shoes at home.”

Kara ducked her head, but rounded on her sister all the same. “They were Birkenstocks, Alex. I thought they were Eliza’s!”

“Are you accusing me of wearing mom-shoes, Kara? For I am and I would, if it weren’t for you. Thank you very much.” Her hands found her hips and only now did Lena notice the beer cans she was holding in each of them. No, judging by the brand logo, they had to be ginger ale. Too bad, she’d given an arm and a leg for a cold beer, or even better: a nice whisky sour on the rocks, right about now.

Kara stuck out her tongue, but Alex didn’t take the bait, crossing her arms over her chest as best she could with her cargo in hand. “Now, get going both of you, and leave the grown-ups to enjoy a cool drink in the shade, why don’t you.”

Nia stood at once, brushing sand off her butt sheepishly, but Kara just opened her mouth, giving every impression of wanting to argue. A short, but entirely silent, deadly staring match ensued, which Kara lost, and with a quick glance at Lena, Kara got up too, her hand brushing Lena’s leg as she got to her feet.

“Fine,” she huffed.

“Be boring then,” Nia teased and dashed for the water before Alex could turn her wrath on her, kicking up sand as she went, a laughing Kara hot on her heels.

Lena and Alex looked at each other for a moment. Alex didn’t ask and Lena didn’t talk. She simply took the proffered can and nodded her thanks, pressing the cool drink against her leg as she hugged her knees tightly to her chest, her book lying forgotten in the sand.

“Kids,” Alex muttered more to herself, opening her can with a pop and taking a long drink.

Setting her ginger ale down in the cool sand, she flopped down on Kara’s towel and lay on her back with her eyes closed, hands behind her head.

Lena watched as Kara, Nia, and Eli splashed about in the shallow water closer to the waterline, with Kelly standing guard for a bit, before she plucked her little boy from the water, adjusted his floaties, put him on her shoulders, and waded in deeper slowly, followed by Nia and Kara, who, apparently, had a blast splashing and dunking each other under the water.

Lena inhaled sharply and looked away, rubbing her arms. She heard Kara shriek and laugh, followed by a loud splash, and forced herself to look, because not looking was worse.

Kelly and Eli were still in the water, but Kara and Nia had taken to climbing the jagged cliffs that jutted out and dropped into the lake, and—Lena held her breath, panic rising within her—diving off them at murderous velocity. Watching Kara fly over the edge with a jubilant whoop—even while knowing she could literally fly and was practically indestructible—Lena’s heart clenched painfully. She could barely force air into her lungs until Kara’s head broke the surface again and the soft breeze carried her booming laughter all the way back to Lena’s ringing ears.

Alex raised up and squinted against the sun just in time to see Kara and Nia cliff-dive into the water together, hitting the surface dangerously close to the rocks.

“Be careful!” she called out to them, now watching her wife, son, and sister with the intensity of a lifeguard on duty. “Hey, Kara! Take it down a notch!”

Lena felt dizzy and light-headed from the lack of oxygen in her lungs and brain, fingers digging into her arm hard enough to possibly leave a mark. “They have lost their freaking minds,” she said, her voice coming out strained and the words strangely clipped.

She could feel Alex watching her, but didn’t dare tear her gaze away from Kara again.

“No, they haven’t,” Alex corrected calmly. “My sister was born brainlessly reckless.” She paused for a long swig from her can. “Can’t speak for Nia Nal, though. Kara’s probably rubbing off on her.”

“So you don’t share Kara’s sense of... adventure?”

Alex laughed dryly. “Let’s just say, Kara’s and my idea of a... good time differs greatly on occasion.”

Lena made a non-committal sound, her stomach in knots over yet another witnessed dive with breakneck abandon.

Alex touched her arm, making Lena flinch, but she had the grace not to comment on it. “Come on, Lena, let’s make some PBJs. They’re going to be ravenous when they’re done.”

Lena didn’t move.

“Peanut-butter-and-jelly on soft white bread, Miss Luthor, I take it you’re familiar with the concept?”

Before Lena’s mind had fully registered what was happening, she’d been pulled to her feet, taken by the hand, and led over to the massive cooler—which did indeed hold so much more than just peanut butter and jelly.

“Strawberry or Raspberry?” Lena held up both jars, not knowing which Kara liked better and unable to make up her mind on the matter.

“Both,” Alex laughed. “With my sister, it’s always both. Or option d, all of the above, preferably all at once or—wherever that’s impossible or very, very gross—in very close succession.”

“Noted.” Lena shook her head, but proceeded to open both jars anyway.

Alex rested her elbow on the edge of the cooler, grinning up at her. “There’s a lot you don’t know… yet.” She poked a finger at the bracelet on Lena’s arm and Lena felt herself blush furiously.

#supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorp fluff #my fic #fic: the lake

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snape-et-al · 4 years

Text

Summary - Let the smut begin! Domitille has a very vivid dream involving a certain black haired professor....

Content - Sexual and explicit language. Thoughts expressed in italics. Character POV changes. This is an AU fic, post battle of hogwarts.

All themes and characters except the original character belong to JK Rowling.

(Post picture not mine, credit to creator)

The Dream...

(Dom POV)

“...why am I in his office? Weird. Shit! I’m wearing nothing but knickers and a T-shirt! Oh shit, oh fuck, how am I going to get back to my room!?” Then she felt it, incomprehensible darkness, it was overwhelming, and slowly surrounding her. She was frozen. “Shit why can’t I move?!” Then she felt something different, pressure on her hips from lightly resting hands. Her breathing quickened and she had goosebumps all over. The hands moved slowly around the curve of her bottom then up to her waist. Her body was tingling and she was willingly submitting to the wickedness that enveloped her. She tipped her head back with a slow exhale, succumbing to the touch. She rested her head on the figure behind her, one hand moving up her body, cupping her breast and and on to her neck, she turned her head and saw black. Black hair, black clothes white skin. It was him. Fuck. She pressed against his body and the pressure was reciprocated. She felt his growing erection as she grinded against him then moved her hand behind her and felt for his cock. She moaned as she palmed at his crotch frustrated at the layers of clothes between them. She felt one of his hands move down her stomach and slip down into her knickers “ah...merde” “Shhh… that mouth of yours” she heard him whisper. She rocked against his fingers which were now wet from her arousal…

“BUZZ BUZZ” the obnoxious sound of her muggle alarm clock. “BUZZ BUZZ”. Awake.

Her dream played over and over in her head while she showered. What would it be like to have his hands on me? I wonder what his dick is like?

She shook the thoughts away as she made her way to breakfast, she needed to maintain an air of professionalism.

(Snape POV)

Severus was already in his seat, he was sipping a coffee and skimming a copy of The Daily Prophet. He looked up over the top of his paper and his eyes went immediately to her. Domitille has stopped to chat to some students. Today she wore a deep red dress, which finished just above the knee and perfectly skimmed her curves. Her hair was wild and cascading as usual, and was almost waist length. She wore a red scarf tied up at the top and acted as a headband and her lips were painted that shade of red.

Severus had been watching her for the entirety of her conversation with the students and curiosity had gotten the better of him. He very discreetly lifted his wand and muttered ‘legilimens’ under his breath. He was very gifted with mind charms and was immediately inside Domitilles.

“...so I’ll see you guys later on this morning” he heard Domitille say.

Severus made his way through her thoughts from the past 24 hours, he saw an image of himself, exactly where he was currently sitting, he looked tired and was rubbing his temple. How long had she studied me for?

Then, as if blinking he was in his office, he was watching himself with a scantily clad Domitille, touching her intimately, kissing her as she felt for his crotch…

“Professor?... Earth to Professor Snape! Are you okay?”

He was back in the great hall, heart pounding, gripping his newspaper and he was semi hard. How convenient he thought.

“Good morning Miss, um Professor Bisset, would I be correct in saying that it’s your first day of classes today?”

“Yes you would … did I interrupt your daydream?” She asked, smiling.

“Ah, oh, no… well, I suppose yes” he turned the corners of his mouth up.

It was a normal teaching day for Severus Snape, he wandered around his classroom scolding students, issuing detentions, unnerving them by standing over their shoulder as they added ingredients to their cauldrons, grading papers - harshly - and strode through the corridors during break times looking for mischief to diffuse. One thing that kept creeping back into his head, the image he saw inside Domitilles thoughts, she had dreamt about him… intimately. He was unsure of how he felt about it, his default response was irritable. Which is nothing new. But he was definitely intrigued and aroused…

#harry potter preference #slow burn #snape smut #severus snape #snape #snape x oc #snape fanfiction #snape fanfic #shamelesssmut #shameless smut #dream smut #snape/OC

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resetpermalik · 4 years

Photo

Creating an Animation with Photoshop

Navi from Zelda

Getting Started

So, you need an image. But, the one you’re looking for is either under copyright or only exists in your mind. This leaves a few options: search tirelessly among the internet for an adequate option, pay another entity to make one on your behalf or make it of your own accord. Choices, choices…

There is certainly a chance that a viable option exists on the interweb — somewhere. But, is it worth your valuable time to flip rocks over all day? Maybe, maybe not.

Hunting down a novice or even a professional to execute the task for you is always a sure-fire way to provide a finished and possibly-well-polished product. Though, in many cases, you must pay for this service (especially as you slide up the scale of quality.) Or you may simply want an animation for a personal project. In this case, finding free animators on freelance websites is within the realm of possibilities. If this last one is you, best of luck. If not, let’s press on.

The final option is to piece together the project yourself. And that’s the route I have taken for my latest endeavor. Using Photoshop, I made a basic animation of Navi (the flying blue companion of Link’s — from Zelda (: specifically, Ocarina of Time.) A great game, I know!

The following will shed some light instruction on how I went about building my animation, along with some tools available in the very powerful application — Photoshop.

Setting Layers

Before any magical talking fairies can be forged, we first must supply a canvas on which we will place them. The first step is to open your Photoshop app. This project was enacted using Photoshop 2021.

Upon opening your app, the splash page should appear. This page will welcome you, the user. Along with a warm greeting from the Adobe team, you will find the sidebar on your left houses a button to create a new project or open a file. Click ‘create new’. Then choose the size appropriate for your means. Moving on…

So you have opened your new project, our first objective is one of painting a background on which our animation will be born. Any color will suffice, though a color which allows for contrast will be useful — at least until after our work is finished. Your first layer will be preselected and may be verified at the bottom-right of your screen. To color your background, use your ‘paint bucket tool’ (with your chosen color appended) to click and cover your first layer. This should shift the whole layer to your particular hue.

Once successful, create a new layer with the plus sign in the tiny toolbar (underneath your layer tab, in the bottom-right.) After the new layer is opened, ensure ‘layer 2’ is stationed above your first, freshly painted layer. Also, you will do well to commit this layer function to memory — as it will be used several more times when adding the wings for Navi…or other pieces to your specific project. Now, we should have one layer on bottom with a certain background color applied. Placed over that should be a fresh layer — ready for the body of our fairy friend.

Navi’s Blue-ish Body

Building the body for Navi is straight-forward. This calls for a series of orbs (three: one darker blue, a lighter blue and white-blue) stacked atop each other. To place these orbs, grab your ‘brush tool’ from the dedicated sidebar on your left. The paintbrush is what you’re looking for. Select that and continue to adjust the hardness (how strict or spotted the edges are — like a sharpie vs. a can of spray paint.) Also, choose the appropriate size for your Navi body. This process will be repeated for a total of three times; in accordance to the aforementioned color scheme and from the largest orb to the smaller and smallest, centered orbs. I hope this makes sense. If not, the images supplied should be of help. Onward!

Pin Your Wings

Next we need those two iconic sets of wings which keep Navi floating around Link’s head — chattering “Listen!” for every step of the epic legend of Ocarina of Time. For wings, we shall chose our ‘line tool’. This may be located in the same left-hand sidebar.

After equipping the ‘line tool’, some settings for it must also be adjusted. Those will include (but are not limited to): pixel width, stroke type (solid, dashed or dotted), stroke fill color and so on. Calibrate your ‘line tool’ and we can start drawing those wings.

Exactly how your wings look is up to you. The wings I drew are all visible in the images posted, but feel free to use your imagination. I’m sure you either already know how Navi looks — or can simply scrape the internet for some images. Regardless, draw your first line. Then we can move onto the intermediary ‘warp’ technique. Exciting, right?

If you were successful with constructing your first line (of the first wing,) then head to ‘edit’ (while still selecting the respective line) at the top of your screen. We need to ‘transform’ your line with the ‘warp’ transformation, so rather than a flat, straight line — you will be able to manipulate the line into a curve for your wings. Again, select your line. Then ‘edit’. ‘Transform’. ‘Warp.’ If you follow, let’s push forward…

Warping Wings and Such

Warping your elements will take a slight learning curve. Really, only slight. You will just have to accomodate yourself to the functions of warping. This feature will be used consistently throughout the construction of each wing. Really, just try to watch how your lines move in relation to the dots as you maneuver and you will be just fine! As for the color of the wings, I chose grey. So long as yours look the way you want, any shade is perfect. Onto some added markings…

Now that each of your wings have be brought to life, let’s place in some wing-like lines to add a bit of character. Again, like the wings, I used the line tool for this portion. The only difference which should be mentioned is the color. For the veins in each wing, I set the lines to a slightly darker grey. But, as with the wing color themselves, choose as you wish.

With the physical structures of each wing built, the last few steps are only finishing the wings and bringing them (in a sense) to life. To do so, we will add a ’gradient’ and ’outer glow’ to each. Both features can be added by right clicking the respective layer and selecting ‘blending options.’ Next, I will briefly cover each option…

Gradient to Add Perspective

For your gradient, you may adjust many dials, sliders and otherwise to get things tuned just right. Under the devoted (‘gradient’) tab you will see: style (linear, radial, angle, reflected or diamond), opacity, reverse, scale and so forth. Set each one just so and you will achieve the best angle for perceived lighting over Navi.

Outer Glow for Emphasis

As far as your ‘outer glow’ settings, follow the same procedure to access them… ‘layer’, right-click, ’blending options’, ‘outer glow’. This will deposit you into a very similar tab. Tune your glow’s opacity, noise, spread, size, range and so on. After this step, Navi should be ready for action!

Conclusion

As discussed originally, there are many ways to allocate animations for any project you come across. That said, building your own personal image and/or character from scratch is a great time and brings to rise plenty of new skills which truly are not too difficult to onboard.

Maybe you have no interest in building Navi, but hopefully this instructional article gave some tips and hints on how to better utilize the Photoshop application in your workflow.

#Photoshop animation workflow tutorial design

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feministshawnmendes · 5 years

Text

Bold and Bubbly

a/n: inspired by that story Shawn told of that woman not knowing who he was and my love for cocky!Shawn. There might be a steamy part two? We’ll see.

summary: Shawn meets a beautiful film director at an After-Party during the Cannes film festival who has no idea who he is.

_____

Champagne had been flowing freely all night, swirling about in expensive champagne flutes before dancing down into the bellies of some of Hollywood’s finest. Mireia had gulped down her fair share of free alcohol, feeling tipsy but in control as she took photos with old friends and chatted up new faces, the alcohol sitting in her belly and making her feel warm as her lips turned upwards into a permanent smile. She usually hated film festivals. Especially the Cannes Film Festival. It had become somewhat of a fashion show over the years, hoards of supermodels and musicians attending the event for a few photo ops if anything. But that night she didn’t care about her self-righteous anger. She’d spent the past three years writing, directing and producing the film that had become her passion project and it had just opened at one of the biggest film festivals in the world. She was too busy soaking up the alcohol and affection floating around to worry about much else. She’d been working in the industry for years and if she had learned anything it was to bask in moments like this - ones where she wasn’t worried about writing, meeting a deadline, pleasing studio execs. Temporarily free of any worries that might later surface to the top of her brain, Mireia broke off from her friends who were laughing loudly as they consumed more alcohol than necessary and ate bite sized servings of bread and cheese.

After-parties like the one her cast had dragged her to were really meant for actors to meet casting agents and directors. A lot of schmoozing and fake flattery was involved. The good thing about being young, female and a relatively new director in the industry was that most actors had no clue who Mireia was. They knew her name, knew her work from the tv shows and films she’d written for. But most people barely recognized her. Which she used to her advantage as she strolled past tables full of celebrities who were eager to land acting gigs, their eyes scanning the room to hopefully catch a word with Tarantino or Scorsese. She smiled to herself as she made her way to the bathroom which was situated in a dark corner of the room. When she pulled on the door handle and the door swung open a little too easily, her eyes widened, a gasp pushing its way past her lips as her eyes met two brown ones.

“Oh uh,” She stammered instinctively, her hand still grasping the door handle as her eyes scanned the stranger’s face in front of her. He was handsome. The knock your breath out of your lungs kind of handsome. He had a good half a foot on her, his frame towering over hers, his head tilted as his eyes traveled up and down her body, his eyebrows furrowing as a warmth started to form in the pit of her stomach.

“You look familiar,” he said as his tongue poked out to wet his parted lips, a crooked smile playing on his face as Mireia’s grasp on the door handle tightened. She gulped nervously, her cheeks burning as the handsome stranger’s gaze stayed locked on hers. She shook her head, confusion washing over her face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve met before,” She responded.

“Hm,” He hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. He screams suave and confidence, his cocky smirk and strong eye contact making the tips of Mireia’s fingers burn as he stares back at her. She swallowed her nerves.

“Um,” She trailed as he continued to stare at her, an amused smile on his face. “I actually have to pee super bad. If you could just-“

“Are you an actress?” He interrupted, his teeth seeking into his bottom lip.

“Ha! No, I’m not.”

“I swear we’ve met before,” He insisted.

“I really don’t think so,” She laughed, her hand falling from the door handle. “You must be mistaken - I don’t know who you are.”

“Wha-Really?” He asked, his expression shifting as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, his smile falling. Mireia shook her head, watching as he grimaced slightly and pursed his lips. She rolled her eyes, letting out a small huff.

“Listen I’m sure you’re very impressive and a great actor and if your agent has a card I’d-“

“Whoa whoa whoa,” He laughed, putting up a hand as he shook his head. “Are you a Director?”

“Yes,” she answered hesitantly. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“You look young is all,” He replied, a crooked smile appearing on his face as he tilted his head again, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “You really don’t know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow, feeling her skin grow warm with anger. He held himself like every other young celebrity in Hollywood. His charming smile and dark eyes, which were zoned in on her making her cheeks burn. As handsome as he was, she couldn’t help but read him as another arrogant actor with a big ego. She’d played this game before and she wasn’t willing to do it again.

“And who are you?” He smirked, ignoring her question and leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, crossing his arms over his chest as the warmth in Mireia’s belly grew.

“Someone who REALLY has to go to the bathroom so if you could just…” She smiled an overly sweet smile, a laugh falling from his lips as he pushed himself off the door frame and ran his index finger along his bottom lip.

“You really don’t know who I am?” He repeated.

“No I don’t but judging by how hurt you seem to be that I don’t, you must be a really big deal,” She retorted.

“I mean,” He trailed, a glint in his eyes as they danced across her face. “I wouldn’t say really big but...big.”

“Mm I’m sure you are,” She breathed, pursing her lips in annoyance as she took the time to let her eyes really take in the man in front of her. He was wearing black dress pants and a white dress shirt, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his muscular forearms, the top two buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a little bit of chest hair. A bed of chocolate curls rested on top of his head, his skin glowing underneath the warm lighting the bathroom provided. He was classically handsome, a boyish smile etched onto his face as he leaned smoothly into Mireia, her breath hitching in her throat.

“I can’t remember the last time I met someone who didn’t know who I was,” He said in a low voice, making Mireia’s face burn in a way it hadn’t before, her throat tightening as his gaze moved down to her lips.

“Here,” She whispered back with a confident smirk. “Let me hold that for you.”

“Hold what?” He asked with a tone of surprise, his forehead creasing.

“Your ego,” She replied. “Seems like it must be kinda big. Hard to carry.”

A chuckle fell from his lips, Mireia’s throat drying up as she takes in this stranger’s cocky demeanor, the way he pushes his chin up and squares his shoulders making her want to roll her eyes. She’s irritated by his confidence that seems to drip from his very being, his tongue poking out again to touch the corner of his mouth. Mireia felt her head start to spin, tingles shooting up and down her body as he stepped closer to her, a good foot away from her but closer than before, his musky scent filling her nostrils and making her stomach do cartwheels.

“You’re really cute,” He said slowly, his lips curving into a bigger smile as her nose scrunched up and she stuck her tongue out in mock disgust as a laugh fell from his lips, his eyes turning into slits as his body shook with laughter.

“Is that your way of hitting on me?” She asked with a purse of her lips.

“If I said yes?”

“By law I’d have to vomit,” She answered.

“Funny,” He laughed. “Kind of assumed it was obvious I’ve been hitting on you the whole time,”

“Funny. Usually people introduce themselves if they’re trying to hit on someone”

“Well,” He said plainly, smiling as she raised an eyebrow at him inquisitively. “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine, honey.”

“Mireia Bodillo.”

“Nice to meet you, Mireia,” He breathed, nodding his head as he rocked back on the heels of his feet, placing his hand flat on the door as he pushed it further open, Mireia eyes following his every move. He smirked down at her, his cheeks a few shades darker than they had been earlier as he pushed himself against the door, slotting himself between it and Mireia as he purposefully brushed past her. An uneven breath fell from his lips as she stared up at him, her chin held high and her shoulders squared as she tilted her head.

“And you are?” She asked cooly, his chest rising up and down as she purposefully shifted so her body was facing his, the tips of her shoes bumping his. She smiled up at him, a satisfied grin taking over her face as his eyes dropped down to her, his Adam’s apple moving up and down along his throat as she purposefully ran her tongue along her bottom lip. His warmth was radiating onto her, his labored breaths gently brushing against her face.

“Shawn,” He breathed. “Mendes”

“Mm,” She hummed in a low tone. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“You really know how to stroke a guy’s ego, eh?” He choked out, the tip of his nose now a nice shade of pink. Mireia’s stomach churned and her fingers tingled as she watched a familiar glint of desire swim in Shawn’s eyes as he gulped once again. If anyone were to catch them standing so close in a dark corner of the room they’d probably think the two were familiar, more than just strangers who’d bumped into each other.

“Nice meeting you, Mr. Mendes,” She smirked up at him as his cheeks flushed red once again. She liked being in control. Liked watching the way he bit the inside of his cheek as he fought to keep himself from smiling. He nodded, her eyes dancing across his face as her smile widened.

“Yeah it was nice,” He whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Might google you later.”

“You might?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay,” She started, biting down on her bottom lip as she smirked up at him as she watched him unravel as a smile broke out onto his face and he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. The cool exterior he’d put up was slowly melting away, giving way to a much softer interior, a nervous breath falling from Shawn’s lips as Mireia purposefully let her fingers brush against his. The small amount of contact burned her skin, making the warmth in her belly travel lower as she pressed her legs together. She was in control and she knew it but she slowly felt herself coming undone. “Might google you myself, then. Might be hard to find you, though. Ya know...since you’re not very big.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find me,” he chuckled.

“Mm. I’m sure. What did you say your name was again?”

“Oh come on.”

“Mendes,Yeah?” She teased.

“Yeah,” He smiled back at her as she nodded and slowly backed away from him, their eyes locked on each other.

“See ya, Mendes,” She smiled, taking in the way he heaved a sigh and nodded before he slipped away and she closed the bathroom door, her mind running wild as she wondered about the handsome stranger she’d just met, the warmth that had taken over her body slowly fading away.

#shawn mendes #sm #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine

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inforapound · 5 years

Text

Cockles Of The Heart

This story was written to celebrate @collecting-stories 5K writing challenge. Prompt in bold. Congratulations! You are an incredible writer and seem so genuinely nice. You deserve all of the accolades you get.

When I signed up for this challenge, I had no idea how crazy this summer would be. This is not the story I started for the challenge. The first story was/is about these two meeting in Sicily but last week, I realized I was l already at 7K words with no time to finish or edit. So, wrote this last night. If people seem to like this pairing, I may finish and post the other as a prequel. This is the first time I have written anything but Ivar. Enjoy. 18+

Warnings: Sexual content, oral sex, historically inaccurate use of the F word.

“Woman, what are you doing?”

Turning to look at Halfdan from down on her hands and knees, she pressed her lips together and narrowed her dark eyes. Scowling, she brushed back the loose strands that had fallen free from her tied back hair.

“Your sight is sharp. What does it look like?” Her tone was cool and her oval face alive with an unimpressed look.

Turning back, she continued scrubbing the wooden floor with a heavy horse-hair brush and bucket of hot water. The perfect round of her ample behind jiggling and bobbing as she worked the brush hard.

“Vienna, we have thralls for that. Why are you washing the floors?” he asked not able to tear his eyes from her voluptuous figure.

Scoffing, she looked back. “We have thralls for this? Really. All I have seen are skinny white-haired girls pushing dirt from one end of my kitchen to the other with an old broom.”

Huffing, she looked back with a stern expression and plunked the brush into the pale, slapping it down onto the floor in a swoosh of water.

The ends of his mustache curled up with a smile as he stepped closer. His soft brown eyes continuing to watch the way her bottom bounced with the heave of her scrubbing. Her arms pushing and pulling the thick bristles along the wide planks of the wooden floor. The fabric of her thin dress sticking to the skin between her shoulder blades, tacky from her vigorous, repetitive work.

Reaching to his pants, he adjusted his responding groin as he slowly stalked around his woman. Always enamored with her fierce passion, he dipped his head down to catch a glimpse of her fiery, southern face.

Standing over her, he watched her bend forward, the join of her heavy breasts visible down the front her gaping dress. Gods he loved her curves. Her broad, round hips and soft belly, strong legs and a bust so large, it was surely created for nursing. She was unlike anything he had seen before that day he met her. By chance. Weeks after raiding her fishing village with Bjorn in the Mediterranean. The image of her cold, fearful face, that day, flashed through his mind, standing before him as he attempted to speak her native tongue. With flawless, rich coloured skin and hair so dark it swallowed the sun, he remembered being overcome with apprehension the first time he faced her, seeking her services as a healer for Bjorn. How things had changed, he thought. Never in a thousand lifetimes would he have believed then, that one day, he would know that the rose shade of her bowed lips was the same tone as other more tender parts of her splendid body. Brushing back the swath of hair covering the side of his face, he sighed to himself, thinking how truly blessed he was by the Gods.

Continuing to circle her, he could not resist bending onto his knees and crawling forward, scooting up close behind her.

“Halfdeen!” she startled as his hands wrapped around her, pulling her back to rest against his chest.

Closing his eyes, he buried his nose into the back of her swept-up hair, inhaling her scent deeply. After nearly two years, the way she said his name with her thick accent and broken Norse still warmed his body and pulled at his heart.

With one hand holding her lower belly, his other hand slid up her ribs, pushing down the front of the deep neckline of her dress. Grabbing her soft, round breast, his eager fingers found her nipple hard, already reacting to his closeness. Tipping her head toward his chin, she arched into his touch, exhaling loudly as he ran his mustache and the small beard on his chin over the sensitive join between her neck and shoulder.

“You are interrupting me,” she murmured in a husky tone.

Pressing his groin into her backside, he dropped his hand from her stomach and pulled her bent knees further apart.

“That is your fault for greeting me home in such a position.”

Pulling up the skirt of her dress, he brought his fingers to his mouth wetting them before running his palm up the smooth skin of the inside of her leg. Breathing out a raspy groan, he could not help but grind again into her backside.

“Someone will see,” she whispered turning toward his ear.

“What could be more beautiful than you cleaning the floors?”

“Halfdeen!” she exclaimed, whimpering as his fingers hit her core, sliding along the soft skin of her slightly parts folds.

Smiling against her neck, he ran his tongue along her collarbone softly biting and sucking while pulling and kneading her full round breast. Pressing the tips of his fingers into her opening he pulled her slick back and circled her special spot making her shudder in response.

His mind began to spin, overcome by her effect on his senses. He loved this woman with everything that he was and could never tire of the feel of her skin or being inside her. As long as he could remember, his family set their efforts on his older brother with a bloodline to the throne. As a result, he headed out into the vast world seeking new shores, wonder, and mystery. Knowing, with Vienna pressed to his body, that she was, and would always be his most meaningful adventure.

Sinking his middle finger deep inside her, his other hand pulled at the laces of her dress searching for more of her olive-toned flesh. Placing her own hand over his, she pushed his palm hard against her opening, bucking into his touch. Leaning away, he snaked his hand down between them, attempting to yank open the front of his breeches.

“Let me,” she breathed, pushing his hand away, and spinning to sit between his legs. Leaning back to rest on his elbows, he watched her open the front of his bulging pants and free his rock-hard member.

With a coy smile, she bent forward and swirled her tongue around his head, coating his tip with her saliva. Slowly, she ran her rose coloured lips up and down his length, her tongue focussing on the soft seam along the bottom. Resting on one hand, she brought her other hand up and grazed the underside of his balls. Hissing, he squeezed his eyes closed as she gently tugged the fragile skin.

Taking more of him into her mouth, she closed her own eyes finding a slow, firm rhythm. Softly flexing his hips in time, he brought a hand up, cupping her cheek, holding back the dark hair from her beautiful face.

“I love you Vienna,” he whispered watching himself slide in and out of her warm, wet mouth. “but you need to slow, or I will not be able to make...”

Before he could finish his words, she brought her hand up from his balls to grip her thumb and fingers firmly around his base. Pumping his throbbing length, up and down, in time with her slippery mouth.

“Fuck” he growled, grimacing his face and bucked his hips deep into her relentless mouth. “I am going to…”

Increasing her pace, she dropped further down each time so his tip hit the back of her relaxed throat. With frantic breath, a warm tingle started deep in his groin. One loud grunt and Halfdan squeezed his eyes shut and thrust, shooting warm spurts of his salty seed deep into her eager mouth. As his legs shuddered, he dropped his head back fighting the sensitive sensation of her sucking him clean.

Dropping her hand from his girth, she slowly raked her lips up to his head, running her tongue, one last time, across the slit at the end before releasing him with a pop.

Gazing at her from under heavy lids, he shook his head with a satisfied simper. “That is not what I had planned for you.”

Sitting up on her knees, she leaned back against her heals, undoing her messy bun, scooped and tied her hair back onto the top of her head. A pink hue had spread up her cheeks and her plump lips looked red from their ruff contact.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, sitting up and reaching forward.

“No!” she giggled hitting his hands away. “Get out and let me finish this floor before I turn into a mad woman.”

Opening his mouth to make a smart remark, he stopped, instead choosing silence wisely. Tilting back and tucking himself away into his pants, he feigned offense with a gaping mouth, “you did that to get rid of me!”

Smiling, he shook his head, as he sprang to his feet. Bending down, he picked up the hard-bristled brush and held it out to her. Grabbing the brush, she dunked it roughly into the pale and slapped it onto the floors, splashing his leather boots with water.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cried with a bright face as he hopped out of the path of the spreading water. “I’m going, I’m going,” he assured, turning toward the door. “I know not to stand in the way of a Sicilian and her clean kitchen.”

After her consuming warmth, the outside air off the ocean felt crisp against his skin. Heading up the path to the great hall of Tumdrip, he felt at ease. Sated. Never again needing to sail into the unknown searching for excitement or fulfillment. He had everything he would ever need right there in his small house next to the sea. Humming a low tone melody, he breathed in deeply filling his lungs with fresh air, with the love for his beautiful wife warming the cockles of his heart.

MASTERLIST

@naaladareia @flowers-in-your-hayr @collecting-stories @youbloodymadgenius @no-confidence-to-write @medievalfangirl @geekandbooknerd @lol-haha-joke @yanii-the-hippie @fangirl-nonsense @whenimaunicorn @ceridwenofwales @tephi101

#vikings fanfic #halfdan vikings #halfdan the black #halfdan and oc #halfdan and vienna #halfdan smut #halfdan romance #halfdan imagine

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eternalgoldfish · 5 years

Text

(This is for @delphineygt who made this piece of gold.)

Billy doesn’t mean to fall asleep at work sometimes, but it’s hard when the weather isn’t so great and the pool is dead, and Billy’s been up all night repainting the back porch for his dad, like they don’t rent their shitty little house. It’s not Billy’s job. His job is keeping snot nosed brats from drowning. So sometimes the siren song of a deck chair is too strong to resist. No one really comes to check on him, anyway.

It’s more his dreams that are the enemy. He sees too many girls in cute bikinis, has to watch Heather strut around all day with her hair up and her shoulders high. The girl has curves, legs for days, and no time for Billy’s winking eyes and wolfish smiles. But, well. A boy can dream. Way too much, in fact.

He’s always imagined things in vivid technicolour, but the skin under his mouth feels so real, the sweat of summer on his tongue. Strong thighs grip his waist and hands wander inside his pants, and he’s weak, eighteen, still can’t always keep his hormones in check. It’s fucking embarrassing, popping boners at work. You’d think he’d learn, but. Billy’s foolish when he thinks about manicured nails around his cock, candy-red, glossy lips leaving smears down his chest.

Then it gets worse. Because Billy is an idiot, and goes to the mall, and makes the mistake of getting fucking ice cream. Which wouldn’t be an issue, if Steve Harrington wasn’t behind the counter with his hair wrecked and flopping out from under his stupid hat, scowling.

Harrington bends to get something behind the counter and his shorts slide up a bit, just enough to make Billy swallow, and Harrginton’s ass is not something he thinks about, but. Navy looks good against pasty legs and freckles, and the hair on Harrington’s legs isn’t dense enough to reach his upper thighs.

“Did you want one scoop or two?”

And Billy has the blink before he leers. “Whichever floats your boat.”

Which is stupid, because Harrington stacks three scoops in the bowl and says, “You’re literally the one ordering. That’ll be five forty-three.”

Christ.

So the next time he’s at work, sprawled out on a chair for his break, it’s not a surprise that he dreams of navy blue shorts with white stripes, too short to begin with and then hiked high enough to reveal the swell of each ass cheek, maybe a skirt so small it flips up in the wind. Billy goes with shorts, and it’s obvious that the girl’s not wearing any panties, couldn’t be as he thinks about sliding his hands in from the bottom, getting a firm squeeze of that peach.

The girl is pretty, short brown hair, wide eyes, kind of rough as she digs her nails into his shoulders. Harrington gasps in his ear and mewls as Billy coaxes him against his thigh. He looks like one of those Japanese cartoon chicks with the big tie around his neck and tippy hat. Max had called it anime.

Whatever. Billy knows how to make Harrington cream those little pants. They’re so short he could slip them to the side and fuck him slow and sweet.

“Dear fucking god, oh my god, I need bleach.”

And that curly fucking freak Max hangs out with is definitely not in his dreams, so. Billy sits bolt upright, shades sliding down his nose as his face pinks. He’s hard, dick fully straining his shorts, and for Steve fucking Harrington.

“This is illegal,” Curly says, pointing. “Actually fucking indecent. Criminal. I need an adult to speak to? There are children here?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Billy says. He maybe pushes Curly a little hard to get him out of the way, but if the kid slips on the deck and lands in the pool it’s not Billy’s fault. He has to go to the bathroom. He has a job to do.

Because the universe has a cruel sense of humour, that is not the last Billy thinks about that floppy tie or watering eyes. The rest of the week, he wakes in his bed with flushed cheeks and his hand around his dick, praying for something to think about other than Steve Harrington bending over. He gets nothing, just variations on the same theme. Harrington eating ice cream, tongue swiping lazily over the spoon. Harrington in nothing but the short blue top. Eating mint chocolate chip off Harrington’s thighs.

Billy’s not even gay. Doesn’t think he is.

So of course Steve shows up at the pool on Saturday, like he lives in Hawkins or something, wearing short navy swim trunks and his trendiest shades. A peach pit lodges in Billy’s throat as he catches a glance, nearly strangles him.

“Oh my god,” Curly says. “Are you fucking kidding me? There is a pervert here, Steve. Steve, I need you to protect me.”

There’s a second of clarity where Harrington looks at him, one split second where all Billy can think is oh. Then Harrington’s head is tilting down, eyes clearly following from Billy’s chest to his navel, right to the heavy weight between his legs, that he can’t hide between the tight shorts and the sunshine. Oh.

Harrington licks his teeth, maybe a little mean. “Think you got a little problem there, buddy. Might wanna go do something about it.”

And Billy does do something, but he’s an idiot. He takes five solid steps forward, places his hands on Harington’s shoulders, and pushes him into the pool.

He’s on probation, or something, which is really just a fancy way of his boss saying they’re too understaffed to fire him. It’s kind of lucky, but it’s a shitty kind of luck, the kind where he knows it’s the only break he’s getting this week.

His theory is confirmed as he’s changing at the end of his shift, stray thoughts of a freckled back breaking in to his evening party plans, when Harrington walks in and sets his bag down.

“Going to Nikki’s pool party tonight?” Harrington asks, like it’s nothing.

“Yeah, you going?”

Harrington shrugs. “Might not, now that I know you are.”

Steve Harrington is a liar. He sits on one of Nikki Addison’s deck chairs in nothing but his navy swim trunks, sipping a beer while cast in evening sun. Billy just wants to be plastered and forget about him, thinks it’s a pretty easy option. Booze is flowing freely from a cooler by the sizzling grill. Tommy thinks he’s a chef now because he can make frozen hamburgers.

It’s simple for Billy to slid back into his habits. He kisses Nikki Addison on the cheek and thanks her for her party, eats more hamburgers than he’s allowed, and ends up sitting in her empty living room around midnight, head tipped along the backrest, still in nothing but his trunks. An empty beer dangles from his hand, clumsy.

He’s pretty sure he’s dreaming, because otherwise Harrington wouldn’t be entering from the kitchen and closing the frosted French doors behind him, or walking across the room to straddle his lap.

“I’m so drunk,” Harrington admits.

“And fucking gorgeous,” Billy slips.

“You were staring at me.”

“God, you’re usually less talkative.”

And Steve gives him a look, nose sort of scrunched a second, before tangling a hand in Billy’s curls and jerking him forward by the neck. It’s a firm kiss, solid like the hand ghosting down his abdomen, and oh.

Harrington never kisses him in his dreams.

#harringrove #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #my fic #i hope you like it delphine idk what it is honestly but here you are bb

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emospritelet · 5 years

Text

Last Man Standing

So, you guys really wanted 14,000 words of pointless Golden Lace pron, right? No? Well, tough, you’re getting it anyway.

An AU of the Neverland verse, in which escort!Gold and Lacey try to bang each other senseless

AO3 link

Alistair Gold reflected that of all the things he could be doing that evening, walking to a hotel to meet someone who had paid for three hours of sex wasn’t high on his list of favourite activities. He supposed he should be grateful for the work; his son Neal had two years of college left, and selling his body was the best way he knew to pay for that, but it was soul-destroying. It also had the potential to be dangerous, although it had been months since he had been in a bad situation. He had learned the hard way to recognise clients who took their pleasure from pain and humiliation.

The Arendelle Hotel was one that Gold had visited before. It was a mid-price boutique establishment over twelve floors on one of Boston’s nicer back streets, and he looked it over as he drew to a halt, taking in the old-fashioned frontage with wrought-iron railings at the windows. He had been waiting on the details of the client he was due to meet, and was surprised not to have received them; Tink usually sent them through at least an hour before the agreed time of his appointment.

He set down the black leather bag that carried the tools of his trade and dug out his phone, thumb flicking at the screen to call the agency. It rang several times before being answered.

“Hello?”

A bright, cheerful voice chirped at him, and Gold blinked.

“Astrid?”

“Oh!” she squeaked. “I meant to say ‘Good evening, Blue Star Escort Services’! Please don’t tell Blue I screwed up again!”

“Where is Blue?” he asked.

“Networking,” she said. “She had some sort of drinks party to go to. She took Tink with her, so it’s - it’s just me tonight. Sorry.”

Gold refrained from sighing with great difficulty. Astrid was adorable, with a heart of gold, but somewhat on the ditzy side, and he wasn’t all that convinced of her computer skills, having overheard her conversations with Leroy, the handyman. Of course, she could simply have been pretending not to know anything to let Leroy show off his own knowledge. It was the worst kept secret at Blue Star that the two were in love with each other. Gold decided to think positively.

“Right, I need you to send me the details of my client,” he said. “It was all kind of last minute. Tink left a message to turn up at Hotel Arendelle, but I don’t have a name or room number.”

“Oh no!”

“Well, I’m sure we can get to the bottom of it,” he said. “Everything will be on the computer system under Danny Devine, okay? I’m at the hotel now.”

“I remember Tink telling me about the bookings,” she said pensively.

“Yes, and they’ll be on the computer,” he said, figuring that repetition was his friend in this situation. “I need the name and the room number.”

There was silence, and he shook his head. He could hear her muttering in the background.

“Astrid,” said Gold patiently. “The name?”

“Oh yes!” There was a crackle of paper. “I have it somewhere!”

The was an ominous clink, and a muffled “Oops!”

Gold pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard.

“Okay, look, never mind about the name,” he said. “What room number is it?”

She didn’t respond, and he raised his eyes to the sky. “Astrid!”

There was a scrabbling noise, and she came on the phone again, sounding breathless.

“Yes! Sorry, it’s just - just - I spilled my tea all over the computer, and - and there was kind of a mini-explosion, and now it’s - it’s not - working...”

Her voice trailed off lamely, and Gold sighed.

“Is there anything you can remember about this client?” he asked. “I don’t want to have to knock on every hotel room door asking if anyone paid for sex, understand?”

“Oh, I think I remember that!” she said brightly. “It was room 402, I’m sure of it! I remember because that was the number of my first booking!”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” he said.

“Yeah, he was a Senator,” she said pensively. “Not the nicest man, but he tipped well. I remember he enjoyed spanking—”

“Yeah, I don’t think we need to go into that right now,” said Gold hastily. “You’re sure about 402?”

“Oh yes!” She let out a squeak of alarm, and he shook his head.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine!” she said, in a too-cheerful voice. “Well no, not fine, there’s - there’s a lot of smoke coming out of this thing...”

“Oh my God…” Gold ran a hand over his face. “Look - just get out of there! Get a bloody fire extinguisher! Not the water one!”

“Oh, I’m sure Leroy will be able to help me fix this,” she said, sounding confident. “What about you? Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll go and knock on 402,” he said. “If there’s a problem, I’ll call back.”

“Okay!” she chirped.

He rang off, turning the phone to silent and shoving it into his pocket with a sigh of despair, then picked up his bag and trotted up the steps into the hotel lobby. It was decorated in a modern style, the walls in shades of ice-blue, white and lilac, the staff in blue livery with silver buttons. He walked through the lobby to the elevators, pressing the call button. The elevator, when it came, had mirrored panels all around, and he gave himself a final once-over, his suit a spotless three piece in charcoal grey, his shirt midnight blue silk with a silvery-grey tie. He was clean-shaven, no nicks on his cheeks, his hair cropped short, shining gold and silver in the light. He nodded curtly to himself. As good as it got. Clients always liked the suits. Hopefully this client wouldn’t want an extension of their time together; he had already worked two nights that week and was tired. He pushed the button for the fourth floor, and sighed as the elevator made its way up. Three hours, and he could be out of there.

Lacey French was nervous, and she didn’t like the feeling.

She had heard good things about Blue Star, and for the most part they had all turned out to be true. Miss Blue seemed a kind and gracious employer, the pay and benefits were excellent, and the escorts she had met thus far had all been very welcoming. She even had the option to let the client book the accommodation, but for her first assignment she had preferred to let the escort agency do it. The Arendelle Hotel was clean, modern, and the room she was currently pacing back and forth in had a large king bed, lounge area with a couch and coffee table, and a bathroom tiled in slate grey. The hotel receptionist, when she checked in, hadn’t batted an eyelid as she had asked for the key, and she presumed that he was well aware of her profession. To his credit, he hadn’t even looked down his nose at her. All in all, the evening had started well. But now her client was late, and she had heard nothing from Blue Star.

She pulled her phone from her bag, swiping at her contact list to call. It rang for a long time before someone picked up, with a hurried greeting that she was certain wasn’t the one the agency used.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s Lacey. I’m on my first job, and I’m not sure if we’ve met. Who’s that?”

“Astrid,” came the voice, sounding flustered. “Um - I’m kind of having a situation here…”

“It’s cool, I’ll let you go in a second, I just need some info,” said Lacey. “Who’s my client? I was sure we said seven o’clock, but he’s not here.”

“I - I can’t get into any of the records,” said Astrid. “The computer kind of went poof and now nothing’s working!”

Lacey rolled her eyes, pacing back and forth beside the bed.

“So you can’t tell me who I’m supposed to be banging tonight?” she asked. “Whoever he is, he’s fucking late. Like an hour. At least tell me he paid in advance.”

“Um…” Astrid’s uncertain tone made Lacey sigh. “I - guess?”

“I don’t believe this…”

“I’m sorry!” said Astrid wretchedly. “This evening has been a nightmare!”

“Astrid, come on!” Lacey threw up her hand and let it fall against her leg with a slap. “I could be losing money here!”

There was a knock at the door, and her head whipped around.

“Hey, never mind,” she said quickly. “I think he’s here. Maybe it was eight, not seven, my brain’s gone to crap!”

“Yes, but—”

“If there’s a problem I’ll call, okay?”

Lacey rang off, turning the phone to silent and shoving it in her bag before going to the door. She glanced at herself in the mirror as she passed, tight black dress that showed off every curve, hair piled on top of her head, makeup on point… She took a deep breath, and nodded to herself. You got this, girl. Just remember to stay in character and keep your bloody wits about you.

She opened the door, and blinked. A man stood there, gazing at her with a calm, somewhat flat expression in his dark eyes. He was maybe in his late forties, possibly early fifties. Short for a guy: perhaps five-eight, and thin. He wore what looked like a very expensive three-piece suit with a dark blue silk shirt and grey tie, and his light brown hair was cropped short and scattered with grey, shining silver at his temples.

“Good evening,” he said quietly. “I believe we have an appointment.”

Lacey started, remembering what she was supposed to be doing. His accent was Scottish, though somewhat softer than she had heard from others. There was a pleasant warmth to it, a low roundness that made the words flow out and wrap around her. She licked her lips.

“Yeah,” she said, and then smiled. She made her voice a little lower and softer, more sultry and inviting. “Yes, we do. Come on in.”

She stepped back, and he moved past her into the room, a black leather holdall swinging from one hand. She pushed the door shut and locked it, turning to look him over as he glanced around the room. He had an angular face, with high cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose. Silvery wisps of hair brushed the pointed tips of his ears, and she wondered what he did for a living. A company chairman, perhaps, or an investment banker. It must be something that paid well enough to get him that suit and three hours of her time on a Friday night. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, so maybe he was too busy to have a proper relationship. Or maybe he just liked sleeping with strangers where he could set the terms and avoid emotional entanglements. Either way he looked pretty good, and his money would spend just as well as anyone else’s.

“Three hours, right?” she said, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Correct.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He set down the bag on the arm of the couch, adjusting his cuffs as he turned to face her, then inclined his head, and smiled, showing white teeth.

“Danny Devine, at your service.”

So did your parents hate you, or did they give all their kids stripper names?

“I’m Belle,” she said, keeping the amusement from her face. “Belle Delacoeur.”

His mouth twitched a little, as though he knew that wasn’t her real name. She reasoned that perhaps Danny Devine wasn’t his, either. Clients often gave fake names, she had been told. He opened up the bag, lifting out a bottle of champagne and holding it up. She wondered what else was in there. Work stuff, maybe? Papers?

“Well, Miss Delacoeur,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Would you like a drink?”

She hesitated, but the champagne had very obviously not been opened, and she couldn’t see any way he could have tampered with it.

“I’d love one,” she said. “There are glasses on the drinks cabinet.”

He nodded, and proceeded to open the champagne, which was clearly something he was used to doing. She watched with interest as he fetched a hand towel from the bathroom, removed the foil and the wire cage from around the cork, then wrapped the towel over the top and twisted the bottle, the cork coming free with a low phut sound. He removed the towel with a flourish, and she heard a fizzing noise, but the champagne remained in the bottle, which was more than could be said for the few times she had opened one.

“Hey, you managed not to spurt everywhere,” she said. “Good job.”

He shot her a look, and she wanted to clap a hand over her mouth as she realised what she’d said. Lacey would happily say such things, usually with a wink and a suggestive snicker, but Belle Delacoeur was more refined. Or so she had decided when she created the character she would use for her assignments. A blush rose in her cheeks, but she decided to just run with the innuendo, and raised her chin, swinging one hip outwards.

“Guess that bodes well for me, huh?” she said. A little flattery never hurt.

“The night is young,” he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

He poured two glasses, and handed one to her. Lacey cradled it in both hands, breathing in the light scent and waiting until he took a drink before she did the same. The champagne was crisp and clean, fizzing on her tongue, and she watched him over her glass, at the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and the light glinted on his hair. Definitely attractive. She ran her eyes over his body, realising that she was intrigued about what he was hiding under the suit, and he swilled champagne around his mouth before swallowing, dark eye studying her as carefully as she studied him.

“May I call you Belle?” he asked.

“Please do.” Maybe it’ll encourage me to keep in fucking character.

He nodded.

“Well,” he said. “Let’s discuss terms.”

“Terms?”

“What you want,” he said patiently. “And more importantly, what you don’t want.”

Lacey stared at him for a moment. He was offering her a choice?

“I guess - I guess communication’s the most important thing,” she said. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

“I understand.”

“And - and I really didn’t sign up for a world of pain, either.”

“Good,” he said briskly. “I have no interest in causing you pain, Belle. And if there’s something I do that you don’t like, I want you to tell me to stop, alright?”

Wow. You are not what I was expecting.

“What about you?” she asked, and his eyebrows twitched.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “What do you want?”

He stared at her for a moment, as though he didn’t understand the question, and then blinked.

“I’m already getting everything I want from this evening, I assure you,” he said quietly.

What the hell does that mean? Guess it doesn’t matter. He’s paid already. Doesn’t seem to be a creep. Let’s go.

“Well, okay then,” she said. “I guess that’s it.”

“Very well.” He took another drink, and set down his glass. “Shall we begin?”

“Uh…”

She took a final swig of the champagne, and set the glass next to his, her heart thumping with a small amount of trepidation. You’re Belle, you’re Belle, you’re Belle...

“Yes,” she said. “I’m ready.”

He stepped closer, moving until he was almost touching her, and Lacey felt her breath quicken a little as he reached up to cup her face with his hands. They were smooth and cool, the scent of cologne on his fingers, and she was surprised to feel arousal tug at her abdomen. His eyes were very dark, gazing into hers as though he could see into her soul.

“Shall I kiss you?” he asked, and his voice was low and rough. The gentle tug in her belly became a clench.

“Please,” she whispered, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

His lips were warm and soft, and he gently slipped his tongue into her mouth, causing her to rise up on her toes with a tiny moan. His tongue stroked against hers, and she slid her hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the suit he wore. He tasted good, and she let out a hum of pleasure as they kissed, his fingers sending tiny shivers through her as they stroked over the nape of her neck. He broke the kiss, lips pulling at hers as they parted, and pressed his brow to hers, his dark eyes flicking open.

“What would you like me to do to you?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, and Lacey licked her lips as she shivered deliciously.

You want me to guide you, huh? I can do that.

“Undress me,” she whispered.

He moved around her, his body brushing against hers, and she shivered again as she felt his fingers at her back, taking the zipper of her dress and slowly pulling it down. She gasped as he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, and his fingers slipped beneath the opened back of the dress, pushing it from her shoulders and down her arms. It fell to her waist, and she slipped her arms out as he pushed the dress over her hips, leaving her in her underwear and stockings. Moving around to face her again, he pulled pins from her hair, unwinding it and letting it fall, his fingers stroking through it to separate the strands. There was a calm softness in his face, in his eyes, his gaze running over her without any of the lust or greed she had expected. It was something like reverence.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful, Belle.”

Lacey shivered as his hands stroked over her bare shoulders, wanting to take her lower lip between her teeth, the way she always had when she was nervous. She thought she had gotten over that. She thought she had closed herself off enough that nothing could touch her. And yet the way he was looking at her, as though she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, as though she mattered, was making her breath catch in her throat. She decided that she trusted him.

“Now the bra,” she said softly.

His thumbs gently slipped under the straps at her shoulders, drawing them down her arms, and he reached around to the back to unhook it deftly. The bra fell from her, and she licked her lips as he looked her over, a low appreciative murmur coming from him. It gave her an unexpectedly good feeling to know how attractive he found her, and she sucked in a breath as he bent his head to kiss her neck, shivers running through her as his lips pulled at her skin. She let out a moan, hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, and he bent his knees a little, kissing down her throat, mouth trailing over her chest until he reached her nipple. Lacey moaned again as he sucked it in between his lips, the feel of his tongue against her sending jolts of sensation through her body.

She rose up on her toes, fingers stroking through his hair, her breath coming hard as his hand cupped her other breast and squeezed. Her head rolled back, hair tickling between her shoulder blades as he sucked at her, and he slid his hand around to the small of her back, pulling her closer. The fine wool of his suit was soft against her skin, and she felt a tiny thrill at being almost naked while he was so buttoned up and immaculate. He let her nipple slip from his mouth, kissing back up to her throat to suck at the place where her pulse throbbed, and Lacey let out a moan of pleasure.

Gold let his hands slide down her back, cupping her small, pert rear end. Belle Delacoeur - he doubted that was her true name, but it suited her nonetheless - was certainly lovely to look at, and very pleasant in his arms, being just the right height and build to suit his own small frame. She seemed nervous, and he felt that familiar urge to protect, to reassure. He brushed his lips against the soft skin of her throat, reaching her ear as his thumbs slipped under the waistband of her underwear.

“Shall I take these off?” he murmured, and she nodded.

He pushed the underwear slowly down over her hips, letting it fall around her ankles, and she stepped out of it with one high-heeled shoe, then the other. Sliding her hands to his shoulders, she reached for the knot of his silk tie, and began tugging it open, drawing the length of silk through until she could pull it from around his neck and toss it aside. She plucked open the first three buttons of his shirt, exposing the top of his chest, then her hands dropped to flick open the buttons of his jacket, and she pushed it from his shoulders. Gold let it fall, snagging it with one hand and draping it over the back of the nearby couch.

“You want to get on the bed?” she asked.

He smiled a little, nodding, and she stepped away from him, walking to the bed with a swing of her hips. He wondered what had brought her here, why a creature so lovely would feel the need to pay for sex. There could certainly be no shortage of men who would be willing to oblige her for free, but perhaps she had been hurt or disappointed in the past. She sounded Australian, so it was possible that she was only in the city for a short time, and had therefore chosen guaranteed pleasure, with the certainty of no strings attached. Either way, it was none of his business.

He took the gold cufflinks from his sleeves as he watched her, slipping them into his pants pocket and letting the cuffs hang loose. She had kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed in nothing but her lace-top stockings, and was sitting up with her hands braced behind her and her knees bent. Her breasts were pushed up, the dark cleft between her legs glistening with promise, and he felt himself twitch with interest. He turned to his bag, reaching for some condoms and throwing them onto the bed, and Belle picked one up.

“A moment,” he said, as she made to open it. “Let’s see to your pleasure before we open that, shall we?”

Her eyes widened, and he nodded to himself. Definitely disappointed in the past, then. Well, she had paid for him to put her needs first, and he intended to.

“Lie back,” he whispered.

For a moment he thought she was about to say something, but then she slowly lowered herself back on the bed, knees still bent. He knelt at her feet, hands on her knees, watching her chest rise and fall with her breath, red lips parted, her dark curls spread out on the pillows. God, she’s gorgeous! The prettiest thing I’ve seen.

He slid his hands up one thigh, fingertips tucking under the edge of her stocking, and he slowly peeled it down, baring her leg. Her skin was as smooth and pale as the rest of her, and he pulled off the stocking at her foot, letting it flutter to the floor. Her toes were painted dark red, the same colour as her fingernails, and he lifted the foot in his palm, bending his head to press a kiss to it. Belle gasped as his tongue pushed between her toes, stroking against delicate skin. He drew a toe into his mouth, sucking at her, and she let out a tiny moan. His tongue flickered over her, and he sucked each toe in turn before running his lips along the underside of her foot. She jerked a little, ticklish, and he briefly smiled before lowering her foot onto the bed.

He repeated his actions with her other leg, rolling down the stocking and tossing it aside, letting his tongue explore the curves and hollows of her foot before dropping it to the bed. She was fully naked, chest heaving and lips gleaming, and he bent his head to press kisses to her knees, gently pushing them apart to kiss her inner thighs. Belle sucked in a breath as his lips moved upwards, her skin as soft as silk. He could smell her scent in the air, arousal making his cock swell in his pants. There would be no need for chemical assistance on this occasion, it seemed. At least not for the first time. She had paid for three hours; it was likely he would be asked to perform more than once in that time. It looked as though it was going to be as much of a pleasure for him as for her. Which made a change.

He could hear her breathing quicken as his mouth trailed higher, the tip of his tongue gently tracing over her skin and making her start. Her scent was intoxicating, sweet musk in the air around him, and he nosed the soft skin of her nether lips, letting his breath wash over her before pressing a kiss to her. Belle moaned, and slowly, gently, he let the tip of his tongue part her soft folds, drawing upwards. Her moan became a cry, her hands dropping to stroke his hair, sending shivers through him, and her flavour spread across his tongue, causing a low growl of appreciation to rumble up out of him. He licked her again, achingly slow and deliberate, and Belle moaned and lifted her hips, trying to push herself closer to his mouth.

“That’s so good!” she whispered. “Oh God, that’s amazing!”

He swept his tongue over her, feeling the hardened nub of her clit, tasting the salt of her arousal on his tongue, breathing in the scent of her. One hand pushed her thigh down a little, so that he could reach more of her, and his other hand crept up between her legs, beneath his chin, gently stroking her flesh as his tongue swept and circled. Belle continued to whisper how good it felt, and he got the strange impression that she was trying to encourage him, to reassure him. An odd thing for a paying client, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. It showed she was a good person.

He let the tip of his tongue tease her clit, stroking around it in slow circles, and Belle let out a whimper, back arching upwards before falling back against the blankets. Her hands were still carding his hair, nails scraping his scalp, a pleasant sensation, and he let a finger tease her entrance, her flesh slippery with saliva and her own juices. She moaned, fingers tightening on the few strands of his hair that she had managed to grasp, and he pushed the finger inside her, sliding deep and feeling soft, wet flesh close up around him. It made his mind stray to how good it would feel to slide his cock deep inside her and fuck her, long and slow. He shoved the thought away, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. First I make her come. Then I make her come again. Then we’ll see what else she wants.

“God, that’s good!” she breathed.

He began to slide the finger in and out of her, his tongue sweeping over her in a steady rhythm. Her body was starting to grow taut, her muscles stiffening, and he quickened the pace a little, thrusting and licking, her juices spreading over his nose, his chin, her scent covering him. Belle let out a high, whimpering moan, clutching at his hair, her back arching upwards as his tongue flickered back and forth over her clit. She came with a loud cry, her body jerking, and he drew out the finger, licking up salty, whitish cum as it leaked from her.

“You taste delicious!” he growled, and she murmured something in response, her body still twitching.

He ran his tongue over her flesh, pushing inside her, and finished by pressing kisses to her, sticky fluid on his lips. Shifting onto his knees, he began kissing up over her belly to her breasts, his mouth fastening over a nipple and sucking at her. Belle’s hands stroked up his arms to rest on his shoulders, and he pushed up on the heels of his hands to gaze down at her. She was smiling a little, her eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy, but they latched onto his, and her smile widened.

“That was amazing!” she purred, and her forefinger stroked across from his shoulder to the hollow at the base of his naked throat, tracing a line down his chest to where the shirt was buttoned. “But you’re overdressed.”

She went to work on the waistcoat, getting it open and pushing it from his shoulders, and he knelt up to shrug it off and toss it towards the chair. His hands dropped to the buttons of his shirt, and Belle pushed up on the heels of her hands, watching as he tugged it from his pants and peeled it off. She ran her hands over his body, eyes flicking over his skin, fingers running over his nipples and sending jolts of sensation through him. The palms of her hands slid down over his belly, thumbs brushing against his belt, and he held her gaze as she slowly pulled it open with a clink of the buckle.

“I like your suit,” she said, and his mouth twitched a little.

“Most of it seems to be over on that chair.”

“I like what’s underneath it more.”

She unhooked the clasp at the top of his pants and drew down the zipper, pushing the pants over his hips to reveal black silk boxers. A finger traced the rigid line of his cock, and she smirked a little, eyes gleaming.

“Well now,” she murmured. “I think it’s high time I gave this some attention, don’t you?”

“We can wait a little while, if you like,” he said. “There are many more ways I can give you pleasure, but it’s your decision.”

She put her head to the side, looking curious.

“Many more ways?”

He smiled, stroking a wisp of hair back from her cheek.

“Let me up a moment, and I’ll get some things from my bag.”

Lacey sat back on her heels as he got off the bed, bending to take off shoes and socks and slipping out of his suit pants, which were carefully folded and draped over the back of the chair. He seemed very meticulous. She wondered if he was like that in every area of life. Perhaps he was one of those men who liked everything just so - a spotless house with everything in its place. She imagined he had cleaning staff to take care of that sort of thing. Unlike her tiny one-bed apartment with its piles of books, collection of used coffee mugs and the ever-present basket of unfolded laundry. She imagined he’d curl his lip in disgust at the way she lived.

She watched curiously as he opened up the black leather bag and reached inside, rummaging around a little before bringing out what looked like a selection of vibrators in various sizes and stacking them on the dresser. Lacey blinked.

“You - you brought your own toys?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Of course.”

“Oh.” She brushed a curl of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “Yeah, I have a bunch with me, too.”

“Perhaps we could compare notes,” he suggested, with a wicked grin, and she giggled.

“I say we try a few of them out first,” she said. “Do you have lube?”

“Of course,” he said again, a faint look of puzzlement on his face. “A moment, let me get some.”

“I’m not allergic to any of it, so it doesn’t matter which kind.”

“I have several varieties,” he said, reaching into the bag again. “But this is excellent.”

He held up a plastic bottle with a pump dispenser, and Lacey nodded with a smile as she recognised the brand. That would do nicely. She held out a hand to him.

“Come here,” she said softly. “Come to bed.”

He smiled faintly, and tossed the toys and lube onto the bed before taking her hand and climbing on beside her. His mouth found hers, and she moaned a little at the taste of him as his tongue slipped inside, a hint of her salt still on his lips. He pushed her slowly back onto the bed, and Lacey ran her fingers through the short strands of his hair as she settled back against the blankets, hs body a pleasant weight on her. Their lips parted as he broke the kiss, lifting his head a little, his breathing heavy and his eyes dark with desire.

“Would you like me to use one of the toys?”

His voice was low and rough, making her skin tingle with anticipation, and she nodded. He seemed to get his kicks from giving her pleasure, which made a surprising change, but she was well aware she would have to return the favour at some point. She thought it over as he reached above her to grab the bottle of lube. Perhaps she could ride him hard, make him lose his mind. That could be fun for both of them.

He pushed up onto his knees and squirted a little of the lube onto his hands, warming it between his palms before he lay back down by her side and reached between her legs. Lacey moaned as he touched her, gently stroking slippery fingers through her sensitive flesh.

“That feels so good!” she whispered.

She felt him smile against her ear as he slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned, pushing up against his hand as his thumb rubbed over her clit. It felt good, and she was almost certain he could make her come just with the touch of his hand, but then he withdrew the finger from her and after a moment she heard the low, insistent buzz of one of the vibrators. She licked her lips, breath catching in her throat in anticipation. The first touch of something smooth and firm against her clit made her cry out in pleasure, and then he began moving it slowly, stroking against her flesh, sending waves of sensation through her body.

She opened her legs a little, arching her back, moaning as she pushed her hips upwards, and he continued to move the vibrator over her. It felt incredible, and she let her head roll back against the pillows, her moans growing louder. She could feel a tide of pleasure rising up through her body, making her cheeks flush and her heart pound, and she closed her eyes, lips parted, holding her breath before letting it out in a wailing cry as she came.

Bliss poured over her in a wave of heat, her body jerking, and he pulled the vibrator from her just before it became too much for her sensitive flesh. She moaned and writhed, almost purring in pleasure, her whole body feeling heavy and loose and relaxed. He was kissing her neck, soft lips trailing over her skin, and she let herself sink into the blankets with a contented sigh, her body tingling.

He pushed up on one elbow, looking down at her with a tiny grin on his face, as though he was pleased with himself, and Lacey shook her head a little. Okay, I gotta earn my money here, this is insane!

She pushed him onto his back, kissing him hungrily, and he slid a hand into her hair, fingers twisting around her curls as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Lacey hummed in appreciation, hands sliding down over his chest, and he let out a brief exclamation as she teased his nipples with thumb and forefinger. Her hands worked lower, finding the waistband of his boxers, and she began gently working them down over his hips. He lifted up off the bed to help her, and she shuffled lower, drawing the black silk down the length of his legs and off at his feet.

Turning back to him, she ran her eyes over him for a moment. He was perhaps a little thin, but in good shape for a guy his age, and very noticeably aroused, which made her smirk. She dropped onto the palms of her hands, walking her way up the bed to gaze down at him.

“I think it’s your turn,” she said softly.

Gold closed his eyes at her kiss, and relaxed into the pillows as she pulled her mouth from his and began kissing down his throat. Her dark, silky hair tickled the skin of his chest, the pull of her lips sending tiny bursts of pleasure through him. She glanced up, holding his gaze for a moment, and then moved down the bed, kissing over his belly, her lips brushing against his skin. It felt good, and he wanted her to continue, to kiss down between his legs and suck his balls in between those perfect lips. He wanted her hot, wet mouth to close up around his cock and suck him hard. But he had learned the hard way never to allow someone that kind of power over him, and as she kissed along the crease at the top of his thigh, his hands tightened on her shoulders, pushing her up and away from him.

“That - that won’t be necessary,” he said, a little breathlessly, and she sat back a little, looking puzzled.

“You don’t want me to?”

He shook his head.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t, thank you.”

She shrugged, as if to say it didn’t matter to her, and moved up his body again to kiss his chest, sucking on his nipples and making him groan before pushing up on her hands, dark curls falling around her face.

“Are you ready?” she whispered, and he nodded.

She wriggled back down between his legs, and he heard the crackle of the condom packet as she got it open. Her hair was hanging in front of her face, hiding what she was doing, but he felt her grasp his cock, and he sucked in a breath as she gripped him hard, pulling him upwards to roll on the condom. He reached for the bottle of lube, squirting a little onto himself and spreading it with his fingers, and Belle crawled back up the bed a little, straddling him, her core pressed against the hard length of him. Her hands slid slowly up his chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples and making him jerk in response, and then she reached between them, taking him in hand and gently guiding him inside her.

Gold groaned as she sank down onto him, her heat surrounding him. She straightened up, sweeping her hair out of her face, her breasts pulled high as she arched her back a little, gently rolling her hips as she settled herself. It felt incredible, and he reached up to take her hips and hold her in place, knowing it would increase the friction for her, increase the pleasure. She braced herself with her hands on his belly, and began to move her hips with a slow, rhythmic, circular motion, grinding against him.

He let his head roll back with a groan of pleasure, pushing his hips up to meet her, tugging her against him, and Belle moaned in response, shaking back her hair. He reached to the side, grasping at one of the bullet vibrators, and caught her eyes for a moment, getting a nod from her before flicking it on with his thumb. She was breathing hard as she moved, eyes fixed on his, and he slid the vibrator down over his belly and between her legs into the wet heat where their bodies joined.

Lacey threw her head back with a moaning cry as the slim, firm shape slipped over her clit, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her. She tried to keep her concentration, to keep her rhythm, letting him slide out almost all the way before sinking back down onto him, but it was hard not to fuck him hard and fast and take them both over the edge. She shook her head, fingers digging into the skin on his belly as she quickened her pace just a little, hips moving in time with the thrusts of the vibrator. His cock felt good inside her, hard and deep, and she arched her back a little, wanting to take as much of him inside her as she could get. He seemed to sense her need, gripping her with one hand as the other thrust the toy in and out of the space where they met, hot and slick with fluid. His hips pushed upwards, thrusting deep, and a low groan rumbled out of him, making her belly clench with need.

“God, that’s good!” she gasped. “You feel so good!”

He groaned in response, thrusting upwards, one hand holding her in place as the other rubbed the vibrator over her flesh, and she leaned back a little further, increasing the friction, clenching her inner walls around him and tugging hard. His eyes rolled, his head pushing back against the pillows, and she could see the muscles of his neck and arms growing taut with the effort. She kept up her rhythm, squeezing him, pulling him, feeling the head of his cock rub against her, deep inside her body. She rocked her hips, knowing it would excite him, and he arched upwards with a groaning cry as he came, cock pulsing inside her.

Lacey straightened up, shifting her hips forward a little and rocking against him over and over until pleasure burst through her once more. She let out a loud cry, hands braced on his belly, and let her head drop as she tried to catch her breath, sweat beading on her lip and trickling down between her breasts. The vibrator was still tucked between them, its buzzing too much sensation against her tender skin, and she plucked it out and tossed it aside. Gripping the base of the condom, she eased up off him and rolled onto her back with a sharp exhalation of relief, and for a moment there was only the sound of their ragged, uneven breathing.

Gold ran a hand over his face, his heart thumping hard and sweat cooling on his skin. He glanced to the side, where a clock sat on the nightstand. Plenty of time left. Turning his head, he saw that Belle was still gulping in air, the tip of her tongue sweeping over her lips.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, and she nodded.

He got up, grasping the base of the condom and heading for the bathroom to dispose of the thing. Once he had washed his hands and returned, he refilled their champagne glasses and carried them over to the bed. Belle had pushed up against the pillows, dark curls falling over flushed cheeks. She smiled as he handed over her glass, and let out a groan of approval as he went to pour a glass of water. The champagne was set down at once, and she cupped the glass in both hands, drinking it down and licking her lips.

“Thanks. God, I was thirsty!”

He refilled the glass, but she shook her head and reached for her champagne, so he drank the water himself, taking a moment to pop one of the pills that he carried in his bag before climbing onto the bed beside her and sitting back. She turned onto her side a little, eyeing him pensively.

“You want to take a shower?” she asked, and her voice had taken on that sultry tone again. He smiled.

“Let me go and turn it on.”

“Mmm.” She took a sip of her champagne. “I bet you’re good at that.”

He grinned at her, then took a swig of his drink and got up, heading for the bathroom. It was tiled in dark grey, and the shower was just the right size for two people to share, with small bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower gel lined up in a chrome rack to the side. Turning on the water, he let it run until it was hot, and started at the feel of hands creeping around his waist. Soft lips found his ear, making him shiver.

“Sorry if I made you jump,” breathed Belle. “Is it ready?”

He turned, smirking a little at her grinning face, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Really, she was very lovely. This was turning into the most enjoyable assignment he had ever been given.

“Ready to go,” he confirmed. “Shall we?”

“You get in, I’ll be there in a second.”

She slipped out of the room, and he got into the shower, closing the glass door behind him and stepping under the hot water. He ran his hands over his face with a deep sigh, letting the water course over his skin. Reaching for the shower gel, he began to wash, smiling as he heard the glass door open behind him. He turned to face her, and Belle stepped close, lifting her head to kiss him and pressing her body against his. Their skin was slippery with water, lips sliding, mouths soft and wet. He could feel something cool and hard against his hip, and broke the kiss, glancing down. She was holding a large vibrator and a bottle of silicone lubricant, which she placed on the rack, next to the miniature bottles of toiletries.

“You’re very well prepared,” he observed, and she shrugged.

“Ready for anything. Within reason. I’m a regular Girl Scout.”

He grinned at that, and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her under the water with him and reaching up to cup her face as his mouth found hers. Belle pulled the glass door shut, sealing them in as steam rose. He deepened the kiss, and she moaned into his mouth, water cascading over them, making their lips slippery as he pushed her back against the tiled wall. One hand slid down between them to cup her mound, and Belle shifted, rubbing against his fingers. He gently stroked through velvet flesh, making her moan again as a finger entered her. She was scalding hot, soft and wet, and he fingered her with long, slow thrusts, his thumb rubbing over her swollen clit. She moaned, nails digging into his shoulders, one leg lifting to hook around his hip.

He could feel his cock already beginning to twitch with interest, although he knew it would take a little while for him to grow hard again, and so he broke the kiss and drew his fingers from her. She began kissing his chest, lips and teeth gently tugging at him, and he pulled away, circling around until he was behind her, his back pressed against the cold tiles. Slipping his arm around her waist, he drew her back against him. Belle moaned, shifting her hips so that her buttocks rubbed against his cock, and making him grin.

He reached to the side, grasping the bottle of lube and squirting a little into his palm before setting it down and taking up the vibrator. He spread the lube over the end, flicking it on to feel a strong, insistent buzz. Belle sucked in a breath as if in anticipation, and he bent his head to kiss her neck as he slipped the vibrator between her thighs. Belle moaned as it brushed against her, and he trailed his lips around to her ear.

“Open your legs,” he rasped.

Belle moaned again, head rolling back against his shoulder, feet shifting on the floor of the shower as she opened her legs wider. He began to tease her with the head, rubbing it in slow circles over her flesh.

“God, that’s good!” she breathed. “Oh, that’s amazing!”

His lips brushed her ear, sucking at the lobe, and he gently pushed the head of the vibrator into her.

“Can you take it, Belle?” he whispered. “Can you take it all inside you?”

She nodded, arching her back a little as he slowly pushed the vibrator inside her, the thick plastic shaft sinking into her flesh and making her rise up on her toes with a gasp of pleasure.

“Very good,” he said softly. “That’s very good, Belle.”

Gold kissed her neck, his other hand sliding down over her belly, a finger gently circling her clit as he thrust the vibrator in and out. She moaned, reaching up to run her fingers over his scalp, legs opening wider as he pushed and pulled, fingertips flickering over slippery flesh. She let out a tiny cry, and he drew his tongue up her throat, water droplets spattering against his skin. He was growing hard, his cock pressing against her rear, and she pushed back against him, moving her hips a little to send jolts of sensation through him. Steam was filling the shower, blurring his sight and damp in his lungs, and he ran his tongue over her pulse point, feeling the heavy throb of it.

“Harder,” she breathed, and he pushed the rigid shaft deep, making her roll her head back with a moan.

“How’s that?” he asked. “Is that good?”

She nodded vigorously, and he slipped the vibrator in and out, fingers flickering, feeling her body grow taut as she neared her peak. She came with a shout, her body shaking, and he kissed her neck, holding her tight around the waist as she jerked and moaned. Slowly, he drew out the vibrator, watching glistening strands of cum wash away in the water. She took it from him to wash it, her hands shaking a little, her breathing heavy. Water ran into his eyes, stinging, and he squeezed them shut, wiping his face and stepping back a little out of the torrent. Dark hair was plastered to her skin in curling strands, and he brushed it from her shoulders, kissing her gently as she set the vibrator in the chrome rack again. His cock was still hard, and he felt a powerful urge to be inside her, a need to feel her come. He wondered how much time they had left.

“What would you like me to do to you?” he murmured, and she twisted in his arms, twining her arms around his neck as she nuzzled his nose with hers.

“I want you inside me,” she breathed. “Are you ready?”

She slipped a hand down between them, gripping his cock, and her lips curved upwards in a grin. Her eyes flicked open, clear blue pools meeting his gaze, her cheeks adorably flushed and her mouth full and dark and wet. Her fingers stroked him, sliding up and down the shaft, tracing around the head and making him shiver.

“Feels like you’re ready,” she whispered. “Feels like you want to use this hard cock on me. Push it deep until you’re all the way inside me. Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” he rasped. “Yes, I want you!”

She leaned in a little, lips gently brushing his ear.

“Then take me,” she whispered. “Take me to bed and fuck me hard, Mr Devine.”

She squeezed him, and he felt a surge of desire go through him, his body responding instantly to her touch, to the feel of her against him, to the self-satisfied smirk on her beautiful face and the gleam in her eyes. He kissed her hungrily, and she released him, stepping back and opening the shower door, hips swinging as she left.

Lacey towelled herself dry swiftly, rubbing water from her hair, and heard the shower cut off as she went into the bedroom. The air was cool against her damp skin, and she tossed the towel aside, rummaging in her bag for a set of anal beads. She had a pink plastic set, grouped in a curved, rigid line in increasing sizes, and she threw it onto the bed along with a couple of condoms and some more lube. She had thought of a way they could both get some pleasure. After a moment, she dug out a hollow butt plug and a bullet vibrator, and tossed those onto the bed. Never hurt to be prepared.

Her skin was tingling, her hands still trembling a little, and she could feel excitement and arousal tugging at her, making her belly clench and her heart thump. It was the most incredible night she had ever had, and to be paid money for the pleasure seemed to good to be true.

Crawling onto the bed, she heard soft footsteps, and turned to face him as he entered, a towel snagged around his waist and his hair damp. Her eyes dropped to his crotch, a telltale bulge in the towel proof of his arousal. It made her grin, and she held out a hand to him.

“Come here,” she said softly.

He smiled a little, getting onto the bed on his knees, and she shifted onto her own, kneeling up and reaching for the towel at his waist. Her fingers pulled slowly at soft cotton, opening it up and throwing it aside, and she let out a hum of pleasure as she ran a finger up the length of his cock. He was hard and ready, his chest heaving, and she traced a winding path around the head and down the shaft, stroking over the soft sac of his balls. Flicking her eyes up to meet his, she smiled, and reached to the side for a condom. He watched as she rolled it on, his breath quickening a little at her touch, and Lacey licked her lips before leaning in to kiss his chest, sucking at a nipple and making him let out a low, rumbling growl. She drew back, catching her lower lip with her teeth as she met his eyes, knowing that it made her look adorably coy and infinitely corruptible.

“Here,” she said, and reached for the set of beads, holding it up.

Gold raised an eyebrow, but took them from her, along with the bottle of lube she passed him. She turned around onto her knees, spreading them wide and lifting her rear to reveal the deep pink petals of her sex, glistening with her juices. He licked his lips, wanting to touch her, and she looked over her shoulder and winked at him, lips parted in a soft pout.

“Give it to me,” she purred.

Gold smirked to himself at her play-acting, but squirted some lube into his hand, warming it between his palms before spreading it between her legs. She moaned, rocking back a little, and he squirted more onto the beads, spreading it with his fingers and making them slippery. Hooking one finger through the plastic ring at the end, he pushed the first, smallest bead inside her, and she gasped, tossing her head, dark strands of damp hair whipping across pale shoulders. He pushed against her tight entrance, letting a larger bead slip into her, and she moaned, fingers curling into the blankets. Another push, and a third was inside her.

“How is that?” he asked softly. “Can you take another?”

“Yes!” she whispered.

He pushed again, feeling it stretch her, hearing her tiny cry as it entered.

“Again!” she gasped.

She moaned as he pushed another inside, and the sound of it went straight to his groin. He shifted closer, his cock pressed against her right buttock, and she glanced over her shoulder again.

“Fuck me!” she breathed. “I want you inside me!”

He shifted position, sliding two fingers wet with lube inside her, and she moaned, pushing back onto his hand. Sliding the fingers out, he took himself in hand and eased into her, grasping her hips and pulling, sinking all the way inside her. She let out a cry, throwing her head back as he filled her. He could feel the beads inside her, pressing against his cock through her slick walls, and he grasped the plastic ring. There were two beads remaining, the two largest, and he gently pushed against her, watching as she spread her knees a little further apart, feeling the pressure against his cock as the bead slipped inside. He slowly rocked his hips, letting himself slide out almost all the way before thrusting back inside, and she cried out.

“One more,” he whispered. “Can you take it?”

“Yes!”

He pushed again, and she moaned as the bead stretched her, her breath catching as it slipped inside. Releasing his finger from the plastic ring, he stroked his hands over her hips, and let himself slide out again before pushing back in, the feel of the beads an exquisite ripple of sensation against his cock.

“That’s good!” she gasped. “You feel so good!”

He started to move with a slow, even rhythm, sinking deep inside her with every thrust, watching the muscles in her back and shoulders twitch as her hands grasped at the sheets. Glancing to the side, he grasped the bullet vibrator, pressing the button at the end to turn it on. He reached around her hip and between her legs, and Belle moaned as the smooth tip of it rubbed over her clit. He could feel the sensations where he was buried within her, and he kept up the rhythm, long, slow strokes, the bullet circling her clit as he pushed and pulled inside her. The feel of it was incredible, and he found himself trying to run through all the Shakespeare sonnets that he knew by heart, to list the plays in order of date, anything to distract his mind from the way she felt and the sounds she was making as he sank into her hot flesh. Her muscles were stiffening, her breath coming in pants, and he could sense she was as close as he.

“Oh, please!” she gasped. “Please!”

He sank into her again, letting out a guttural groan of pleasure at the feel of the beads against his cock, the sensation almost too much to bear. She was whimpering, her body shaking with the tension, and he groaned over and over, fucking her with short, rapid thrusts, the bullet rubbing over her clit as he worked them both to the edge. Coloured stars burst behind his eyes as he came hard, and she followed him with a high-pitched cry, her flesh squeezing him, her hips bucking. He pushed deep into her one last time, dropping the bullet and moving his hands to her hips to hold her steady as he tried to catch his breath.

Lacey let her head drop, gulping in air, sweat beading on her upper lip and her damp hair sticking to her cheeks. She could still feel him inside her, although he was starting to soften, and she licked dry lips, wishing she could reach her drink. She felt him grasp the base of the condom and pull out of her, and then there was a gentle tug at the beads inside her. He drew them out slowly, and she sighed as the last one left her.

“I’ll just be a moment,” he said.

She felt the bed move as he got up, and a moment later heard the sound of running water. Her heart was thumping, her cheeks on fire, and she stayed where she was, on hands and knees, chest heaving. She was pretty sure she’d collapse if she tried to move, anyway. The bathroom door closed with a click, and she heard the sound of soft footsteps.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You haven’t moved.”

Lacey wanted to roll her eyes.

“Oh my God!” she panted. “Just - just give me a minute!”

She turned onto her back, huffing out air as her heart thudded in her chest, and he crawled onto the bed and lay on his side next to her, propped up on one elbow.

“We can just rest for awhile, if you like,” he said soothingly.

Oh, you think you beat me? Not even close, buddy! Damn, this guy has some stamina!

“I’m fine!” she insisted. “Just let me catch my breath and I’m gonna climb you like a bloody tree!”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling, and she wanted to kick herself for letting her persona slip. She turned to face him, pouting a little, and ran a fingertip over his chest.

“What I meant was, I think I need a moment after that,” she purred. “And perhaps a drink?”

He looked amused, a tiny twist to his mouth, and she wondered if it was her swift change of tone from Lacey French to Belle Delacoeur. To his credit, he didn’t mention it.

“Let me get you something,” he said instead.

She watched as he got out of bed and poured champagne into their glasses before rummaging in that black leather bag of his, the crackle of plastic reaching her ears. He had his back to her, but she suspected he was taking some sort of chemical stimulant to let him get hard again. That was fine with her; they still had time, and she had already had more orgasms than she had ever expected, so if he wanted to go again, she was ready for him. In every sense. Just as soon as she had recovered, of course.

Her heart was still thudding, but she was breathing more evenly, and she sat up and took the glass of champagne from him, smiling as she settled back against the pillows and brushed stray wisps of hair from her flushed cheeks. He got onto the bed, sitting back next to her and taking a sip of his drink, and they lay in comfortable silence for awhile. Lacey let out a contented sigh, wriggling a little in the blankets. Her skin had stopped tingling, her limbs feeling pleasantly heavy and her muscles loose. It would have perfect to slip beneath the covers with him and spoon up together for a nap, but she was well aware that sleep would have to wait until she was back in her own apartment. A thought occurred to her, and she turned her head to face him.

“Do you live in Boston?” she asked. He eyed her, eyes narrowing a little.

“No,” he said at last.

“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “You have family here?”

“I’d rather not discuss my private life, if that’s alright.”

“Right.” She sipped at the champagne, wanting to kick herself. This was a job, not a date. Tink had reminded her not to raise anything personal unless the client did it first. “Of course not, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she added. “I shouldn’t have asked. Not my business.”

“It’s fine, really,” he assured her.

Lacey sensed that he meant it, that he was trying to make her feel at ease, but she still felt like an idiot for asking, for bringing the spectre of his real life into the bedroom with them. For all she knew he had a wife and kids. She didn’t think so, though; she got the impression that he was as lonely as she, for all his smooth ways and soft smiles. She realised she felt safe with him, that she was relaxed in his presence. It was a rare feeling, and she told herself firmly to liven up and be on her guard. Just because a guy seemed like a decent person didn’t mean he couldn’t turn into an abusive piece of shit at a moment’s notice. There had to be a reason this guy paid for it, after all.

The thought made her sad, because she wanted to trust him, wanted him to be the person he seemed. It was as though two halves of her brain were in conflict; the more sensible part was telling her firmly to stay in character, use up the three hours, give him a good time and show him out the door when it was over. And the part of her that was Lacey, the real Lacey, wanted to have a drink with him and ask him what books he liked and how he took his coffee.

The silence continued, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Time was passing, though, and he would want his money’s worth. They all did. She took a deep, calming breath, and a fortifying sip of champagne. Condensation had formed on the glass, running down it in thin streams, and she set it down on the nightstand, turning back to face him.

“Well then,” she said. “Now that I’ve got my breath back, I think it’s time for me to make those pretty eyes of yours roll back in your head, what do you say?”

He grinned at that, dark eyes gleaming.

“I thought that’s what I was trying to do to you.”

“Yeah, well, mission accomplished,” she said bluntly. “I’m tingling all over and if I have another orgasm I’ll break something. Just lie back and let me get a kick out of pleasuring you, how hard can that be?”

His grin widened, and he set down his own glass.

“Well, as long as you enjoy yourself, that’s fine with me.”

Oh my God, who is this guy? And why the hell is he paying for it? Damn!

Lacey shifted onto her knees, lifting her chin to stare down her nose at him.

“Hang onto something,” she announced, and swooped in to kiss him.

Gold kissed her back, fingers sliding into her damp curls, his tongue stroking against hers. Her breasts were brushing against his chest, a pleasant feeling, and as she began to kiss down his neck and over his chest, he let his head roll back against the pillows, eyes closed. She sucked on a nipple, tongue swirling over it and sending ripples of pleasure through him, and he smiled at the sensation, surprised that she wanted to try to see to his pleasure rather than have him concentrate on her own. It made a refreshing change, and he wondered if this was her first time paying for sex. It didn’t seem to be; she certainly had a collection of accessories that he hadn’t expected, but she also seemed vulnerable and a little awkward, hiding her true self behind an image that she had created and was finding it difficult to maintain.

He had noticed that her voice had changed, and was no longer the sultry, throaty purr she had used when he first entered the room. He suspected that whomever she had been pretending to be for the night, she had given up on it. Idly, he wondered who she really was, and what she did when she wasn’t in hotel rooms with escorts. She was too young to be a lawyer or banker, as many of his clients were. An heiress, perhaps? One of those internet celebrities he’d never heard of but that Astrid was always reading about? He supposed it didn’t matter, but a part of him wanted to know who she truly was behind the false name and the honeyed voice. She seemed to have a good heart.

Her breasts were rubbing against his cock, making it twitch with interest, and he groaned a little, reaching up to stroke his fingers through her hair as she kissed over his belly. He was thankful for the chemical assistance he carried; he would never have coped otherwise, and he knew he was going to feel like death the next day as it was. Belle raised her head, and he opened his eyes to meet hers. Her mouth was dark and full, lips glistening with saliva, and for a moment he wanted to break his own rules and ask her to suck him. A wild notion, and a foolish one. Besides, it was her night, not his. She licked her lips, and reached to the side, holding up a butt plug and raising an eyebrow as she glanced back at him.

“I thought we might use this, if you’re okay with that,” she said. “It’s hollow, you can put the bullet in it. It’ll make your toes curl, trust me.”

“Oh, I do,” he said, and realised that he meant it. He nodded. “Alright.”

“It’ll be easier if you get on your knees.”

Lacey straightened up, shifting to the side so that he could roll over and push up on his hands and knees. She reached for the lube, spreading plenty of it over the plug, and then onto him, before shifting position to kneel up behind him. She pushed the plug into him slowly, gently, taking time to let him adjust to it, and he let out a low groan as it slid into him. Flicking the end of it with her finger made him jump and chuckle richly, and she grinned, reaching for the bullet and turning it on. She slipped it inside the hollow core of the plug, and he groaned deeply.

“Fuck!”

Lacey smirked, one hand moving between his legs and gently stroking his balls before sliding up to grasp his cock. She began fondling him with long slow strokes of her hand, and he groaned as he rocked his hips in time with her, the muscles of his arms growing taut.

“How’s that?” she asked softly. “Is that good?”

“So good,” he said, between gritted teeth. “You’re so good at that.”

She drew the bullet out and let it slip back inside again, and he threw his head back with a low groan. The sound of it called to her, made her want him again, and she licked her lips, uncertain whether he would want her to stop what she was doing. She bent to kiss his back, the faint salty taste of perspiration on her lips as she rubbed him.

“Do you want me to keep doing this?” she murmured. “Or do you want me to fuck you?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his breath heaving, and jerked his head towards the nightstand where the clock sat.

“Time’s against us,” he gasped. “Your choice.”

She should have done the selfless thing and brought him off, but she wanted to feel him inside her again. If it was to be their last time, she wanted to see his face and feel him fill her up once more. His cock was hard and thick in her hand, and she fumbled around in the sheets, hunting for one of the condoms. Getting it out of the packet and onto him was difficult when her hands were covered in lube, but she managed it in the end, and he growled in pleasure as she rolled it down his length. She moved, taking the bullet out of him and turning onto her back, and he got between her legs and guided himself inside, sinking into her with a cry. She slipped the bullet vibrator inside again, and his eyes rolled back as he let out a deep groan of pleasure. Lacey lifted her hands, pushing them up above her head against the cool pillow, and he bent his head to kiss her, tongue pushing into her mouth as he fucked her hard.

His movements grew harder, deeper, hands sliding up her arms, fingers lacing through hers, pushing her hands down into the pillows as he thrust inside her. Lacey drew up her knees, wrapping her legs around his back, their bodies slippery with sweat and lube, tingling with vibrations, flushed with passion and their shared heat. She could feel herself nearing climax, her limbs growing taut as she chased her pleasure, and he thrust inside her with a low cry, pumping his hips as he came. His cock pulsed, and the feel of it made a tide of bliss wash over her, her cries drowning out his. She bucked against him, flesh tugging at him, goosebumps rippling over her skin as pleasure took her.

Gold tried to calm himself, slowing his thrusts as she writhed and moaned beneath him. Her flesh was still clenching around him, pulling the cum from him, sending ripples of pleasure through his body. He drew to a stop, releasing her hands and pushing up on his palms, head hanging as he tried to catch his breath. She was panting, her chest heaving, eyes closed and full lips parted and shining. He let out a final, shuddering breath, and reached between them to grasp the base of the condom before pulling out of her and rolling onto his back with a groaning gasp. The plug was still firmly inside him, but the vibrator had fallen out; he could hear a muted buzz from somewhere on the bed, but didn’t have the energy to look for it. Glancing to the side, he could see that the three hours were almost up. Just as fucking well, I might die if I have to go again. He ran his hands over his face as he tried to steady his breathing, and Belle let out a heavy sigh.

“Whoa!” she gasped, letting an arm fall over her eyes. “That was fucking amazing!”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t say much more than that. It felt as though he’d been beaten up and then turned inside out, and he was sure he’d ache like hell the next day, but his body was still humming with pleasure, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever forget how good she had felt beneath him.

“Best night of my life, no question,” she added, her voice shaking a little as she tried to catch her breath. “I mean seriously. Usually I have to spend my time stroking egos and faking orgasms. That. Was. Awesome!”

“I aim to please,” he said.

“No shit.” She lowered her arm and turned on her side to face him. “Hey, have you ever considered doing this professionally?”

He smiled lazily. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious!” she insisted. “I have no idea what you do when you’re not having sex, but I’m telling you it’s time wasted. The money’s really good, you know. You could make a killing.”

Slowly, very slowly, Gold lifted his head up off the pillows.

“What?”

Saturday morning, and a fine day had brought gulls in along with the fishing boats that went in and out of Boston harbour. Gold glanced up, watching them dance and wheel in the air above as he made his way along the street. Wailing, mewing calls filled the air around him, making it sound as though they were having a laugh at his expense. As they should. Sighing to himself as he came to a stop, Gold rolled his shoulders, gazing up at the building which housed, amongst other businesses, Blue Star Escort Services. He was tired, his limbs aching, and despite having stayed over in Boston the night before, felt as though he needed about twelve hours’ extra sleep. He wondered how Lacey was holding up. Probably far better than he.

Once they had both worked out what had happened, they were able to find the humour in the situation, although Gold had to admit it wasn’t an ideal way to meet a colleague. Lacey had laughed about it even more than he had, but she had grown shy afterwards, and had dressed and made her exit quickly. He had been perhaps five minutes after her, heading to the motel he had booked just outside town to get a night’s sleep before going to the agency for his regular medical, and for an explanation of how he had ended up screwing a fellow escort instead of his client.

Much to his relief, Tink was back on duty at reception, grinning widely at him from beneath a loose bun of messy blonde curls.

“So, here’s the man of the hour,” she drawled. “Who’s been a bad boy, then?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he said patiently. “A mix up in the bookings, that’s all. Could happen to anyone. How did the client take it?”

“She called up, screeching about being stood up,” said Tink, with a shrug. “Astrid couldn’t calm her down, so Blue had to take the call from the networking function. It’s cool, she smoothed some ruffled feathers, offered a discount, and sent Graham out on a rescue mission.”

Gold sighed. “I owe him one, in that case. I haven’t seen this client before, but I hope she wasn’t too difficult.”

“He managed to win her over,” said Tink. “She says she wants you next Friday, though. No excuses, in her words. Sounds the demanding type. You up for it?”

“Given the right chemical stimulants,” he remarked dryly, and she snickered.

“Great, I’ll confirm the booking,” she said. “Oh, and don’t worry. Astrid isn’t handling anything more technical than the takeout order in future.”

“Is she alright?”

“Just embarrassed, really,” said Tink. “Everyone knows, by the way. If it’s any consolation, Lacey gave you a gold star. Actually, I think she gave you five.”

“Right.” He glanced towards the coffee room, where he could hear the murmur of voices. “Well. I guess I’d better go and face them.”

Tink grinned at him, and he sighed and turned on his heel, heading for the door and pushing it open.

“And here he is, the man himself!” announced Jefferson, waving his hand in an elaborate gesture.

Lacey, Astrid and Graham were slouched in the chairs around him, grinning. The man who called himself Hook was sitting apart from them, apparently engrossed in a magazine, although he glanced up as Gold entered and scowled slightly before looking away. Was he wearing eyeliner? Gold supposed it went with the leather outfit.

“Devine, take a seat!” said Jefferson eagerly. “The lovely Miss Delacoeur has just been telling us about how the two of you tried to fuck each other into a coma. It sounds like a smutty version of Thunderdome!”

“Only one man entered, though,” said Lacey, with a grin, and Jefferson snickered.

“It was a simple case of mistaken identity,” said Gold evenly.

“It was the shag of the century as far as I was concerned,” said Lacey bluntly. “Most fun I ever had with my clothes off.”

“God, I’m so jealous!” sighed Jefferson. “My evening consisted of convincing a finance manager that I really wanted a threesome with him and his mistress, so all I have to say to you is—” He stuck out his tongue, and Lacey smirked.

“Put it away, Sparkle-Pants, I ain’t riding that face.”

“Hey, I’m not jealous of Devine, I’m jealous of you!” protested Jefferson. “Not that you aren’t a total goddess, of course, but I always wanted to know why he gets so many repeat bookings, and you were the one lucky enough to find out!”

“Perhaps you need some pointers on technique,” said Gold, with a grin, and Jefferson winked at him.

“If you want to pass on your extensive knowledge, I’m ready anytime.”

“Stop flirting with your colleagues,” said Graham, with mock severity.

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a special exception for boyfriends.”

Jefferson spread his hands.

“I just want to excel in my chosen profession!” he protested. “You’re always saying I should take more pride in my work.”

“I’m always saying you should clean the kitchen after you cook breakfast, but you never listen to me about that,” said Graham, with a grin. “Suddenly you’re the next Employee of the Month?”

“Well, if boinking each other is our new way to build team spirit, I’m in.”

“In your dreams,” said Gold dryly, and crossed to the coffee machine.

“Oh, every one of my dreams.” Jefferson pressed a hand to his heart, batting his eyelids. “Especially the dirty ones.”

Gold couldn’t help grinning at that, but busied himself making coffee as the conversation thankfully moved on to topics other than his sexual prowess. Lacey appeared at his elbow, chewing her lip nervously. She had tied up her hair, and was wearing a black top and booty shorts over tights and high-heeled boots. She smiled a little tremulously.

“Hey,” she said. “Sorry about that. Everybody already knew, so - so I thought I’d better sing your praises.”

“It’s okay,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have told Leroy,” she added thoughtfully. “That guy couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.”

“No matter,” he said. “My only regret is that I lost a night’s pay.”

“Oh, crap.” She frowned. “Hey, my guy was a no-show, but I still got paid. Want to split it fifty-fifty?”

Gold shook his head.

“That’s your money,” he said. “You keep it.”

“But you didn’t make anything!”

“I’ll speak to Miss Blue,” he said. “She’s always very reasonable about mishaps. I’m sure I won’t lose out completely on the financial side.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.”

She chewed her lip, bouncing on her toes a little and looking uncertain, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Was there something else?” he asked gently, and she inhaled deeply, fixing him with a stare.

“I - I just wanted to say thanks,” she said in a rush. “I wasn’t kidding when I told the others how great you were.”

Gold looked away, unsure how to react to her admission. He knew he was good; he’d worked hard to become so, but she had made it easy for him too.

“Well, that’s my job,” he said. “Just as it’s yours.”

“Oh, I know all about technique and all that crap,” she said impatiently. “I can make a guy lose his mind in a hundred different ways, and I guess you can do the same with a woman, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What is it, then?”

She hesitated, as though she was unsure how to express herself.

“I - I didn’t have to pretend with you,” she said. “Does that make sense?”

He eyed her for a moment, then nodded.

“I understand.”

“I just - I felt that I could be myself,” she added. “That I could be Lacey. I never want to be Lacey, you know? Not at work. Sometimes not even outside of work, to be honest, but that’s a whole other story of self-loathing I won’t bore you with.”

Gold stared at her for a moment. He understood that very well, and he felt again that urge to protect her, to shield her from the world and anyone that might want to harm her.

“We all have our personas,” he said neutrally. “Sometimes it’s easier to pretend to be someone else. Someone who can handle what we do. Even enjoy it.”

She nodded vigorously.

“Anyway, I started out being Belle Delacoeur, but a little way into our time together, I was Lacey again,” she said. “And - and that never happened before. I just - I wanted you to know.”

Gold smiled, giving her a tiny bow of his head.

“It was an honour to meet you, Lacey,” he said softly, and she sent him a wobbly smile.

“You too,” she said. “And - and maybe I could buy you a drink sometime.”

His smile widened.

“Maybe you could.”

“Since we’ve seen each other’s O-face, small talk should be easy, right?” she added, and he blinked.

“You mean - you mean like a date?” he asked blankly, and she shrugged.

“Yeah,” she said. “If you want.”

She was wavering, an uncertain look in her eyes, the expectation of rejection, and he felt it again, that rush of emotion, the urge to care for her. He swallowed, nodding.

“I’d like that.”

#fic: last man standing #golden lace fic #golden lace #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic #escort!gold verse #au: neverland #golden lace smut #rather large estate #see AO3 for the tags

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