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mf-despair-queen · 3 years

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Partners in Crime - Lee Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader - Mafia AU

Word Count: 17,864

Summary: Y/N meets the man of her dreams one day randomly on the street. Little does she know - he is the boss of a mafia in town. But does she care? No. They were partners in life - and partners in crime.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, I am too lazy to put more to this.

Notes: April Fools - I’m actually posting! I’ve only had this sitting in my drafts completed for over 3 months. Be warned - I didn’t really proofread this. But it’s fine. everything is fine! Enjoy!

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side.

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard.

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

“Excuse me!” The young man called, though his calls went unnoticed. Heavy footsteps fell along the concrete as he attempted to catch your retreating figure, clutching the book you dropped while rapidly making your way down the road. When he finally caught up and tapped your shoulder to get your attention, he understood why you ignored his calls.

With a jump in shock, you turned to the red haired man in awe. Earbuds were tucked deep in your ears, soothing jams filling your mind as you moved. Time stood still when your eyes met his deep brown ones, your heart jumping slightly. Before you stood a handsome man, mid-twenties if you had to guess, with sweet, angelic eyes, fluffy hair draping across his forehead and shielding the small slit in his eyebrow, and the sharpest jaw you had ever encountered.

He wore a simple red wool shirt that hugged his neck and lean torso, a thin black hoodie and a puffed gray vest that was decorated in red designs. Black jeans hugged his slim waist, a black belt wrapped through the looks, and black vans covered the white socks on his feet. Three sparkling earrings dangled from his left ear, a ring adorning his left helix and one single stud rounded out his jewelry.

Realizing that all you were doing was staring, the man awkwardly smiling and uttering mumbled words through your music, you tugged the earbuds out. “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered sheepishly. “Music.”

“I get it,” he chuckled deeply. His voice was smooth and sweet, the underlying rasp making your heart jump a second time. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I saw you drop this earlier.”

He extended the book towards you, your eyes widening at his gesture. Carefully, you took the book from him, glancing into your small bag to find it empty. “Oh my god. I didn’t even realize it fell out. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It’s the least I could do to help a beautiful girl.”

A blush spread along your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your lips. Tucking the book safely back into your bag, you glanced at the handsome man. “Well, can I know the name of the lovely gentleman that returned my book and made my trip to the cafe to read not in vain?”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. “I’m Taeyong.”

You took his hand, finding it warm and soft. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Same,” you chimed. “Well Taeyong, how can I ever repay you for this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started to say, sealing his lips when you shook your head.

“Please, I insist! I really appreciate what you did. I would have lost it in the middle of the cafe if I found I lost this book. It’s my favorite and it was a gift from my sister,” you confided. “I want to repay you somehow. Please?”

“Well,” he started, rubbing his lips together. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a cheshire-like smirk. “You could let me buy you a coffee.”

You giggled at his suggestion, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that, but only on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join me for said coffee?”

Taeyong chuckled, nodding happily. “I’d love that.”

A smile grew on your face, butterflies fluttering rampantly inside your stomach. You could feel a small blush spreading across your cheeks as your looked up at the handsome man. “Great. Shall we get going?”

Taeyong smiled back, his glowing smile infectious. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he uttered. You nodded, turning on your heel and leading him towards your original destination - Haru & Oneday - with Taeyong at your side. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets as you walked, a happy hum coming from the man. “So, tell me about yourself.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s a deep conversation. I hope you know that.”

“I have time.”

A skip inside your chest, a knot of excitement in your gut, a flash of heat across your face despite the chilled weather of December.

“Well…”

The entire afternoon was spent talking, tucked into a small corner of the cafe. The second you arrived, Taeyong asked what you wanted. While he ordered your coffee, you picked a secluded place to talk, knowing the book you planned to read that day would go untouched. You were more interested in the mysterious man that captivated you on the street, kindly returning your lost item.

And learn about him you did. He was a kind soul, living in the same building as a bunch of friends that he worked with in business. He enjoyed singing and dancing in his free time, spitting a rap that made you laugh and clap in excitement. He liked to cook, but you figured out that he had a massive sweet tooth more than anything from the way he devoured a whole slice of chocolate cake by himself. The smile that lit up his face as he ate the decadent treat made you smile happily.

You told him your story - where you were from, growing up in Busan, your love for cooking and reading. You even told him about the boring desk job you worked to pay for the small apartment you had. You lived an ordinary, boring life in your opinion, but Taeyong listened intently, taking interest in the little things that made you happy.

Just as the sun was setting and his phone was ringing, presumably from his friends asking where he had disappeared to, did you agree to wrap up for the day. Taeyong slipped from his seat first, but not before sliding a folded napkin in your direction.

“I enjoyed spending the day together, Y/N,” he mused, pocketing his hands. “I’m glad I was able to meet you today. It really made my day better. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

He waved before walking off, leaving you to gather your stuff. Just as you were finishing, you glanced at the napkin he left. Your stomach flipped and your heart raced, finding his phone number written on the paper, a cute doodle of himself, and the simple words of Call me? printed underneath. Tucking the napkin in your bag, you left the cafe, thanking the owners on your way out.

It was dark by the time you arrived home, closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. Your shoes were left forgotten in the doorway, headed straight for a shower to wash away the day’ odor. Finishing your nightly routine, you returned to the bag you left on your bed, sitting on the plush mattress. Your fingers tugged out the napkin, your lip tugged between your teeth as you contemplated shortly.

Your fingers moved without much though, grabbing your phone and typing the number into a new contact. The message you sent him was simple.

To: Taeyongie - Hey. This is Y/N. I just wanted to thank you again for today. It was great meeting you and getting to know you. I hope we can do it again sometime.

His response didn’t take long.

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad you messaged me. I was worried for a bit that I wouldn’t get to hear from you again.

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad I got to meet you too. You really brightened up my day, so for that, I have to say thank you.

From: Taeyongie - I can’t wait to see you again.

Your heart was aflutter, sinking into your bed and rereading the message a few times. You were glad you decided to brave the cold and travel to your favorite cafe, even if you hadn’t intended to almost lose your book and meet a gorgeous gentleman that seemed to steal your heart from under your nose already. After many failed relationships through school and early adulthood, you didn’t think you’d find someone like him that would sweep you off your feet so easily.

When your phone buzzed again, making you jump slightly in shock, you reread his last message three times before your eyes grew wide.

From: Taeyongie - Though next time, I hope you’ll allow me to take you out for a proper first date.

Your fingers shook as you tried to type a coherent response,

To: Taeyongie - I’m looking forward to it.

He really was one of a kind.

Nearly four months after meeting Taeyong, you were head over heels for the man. You talked to him daily, waking up to sweet messages wishing you a good day and falling asleep to messages bidding you sweet dreams. You had learned much about the man, finding yourself falling deep into the abyss of his chocolate colored eyes. You were wrapped around his finger, though not in a bad sense. He had stolen your heart, and you were willing to let him keep it.

Every other week, you found yourself going out with the man when you weren’t at your house together. When you chose to stay in, you would be wrapped up on your couch or in your bed watching movies while his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, or the tips of his fingers ghostling along your arms. You’d make dinner together, play games together, and even go out to walk Ruby together when he brought the small dog over for your amusement. You’d occasionally find yourself dancing together around the house, singing whatever song he decided to play for you, but you never once hated these moments. They were some of your favorites.

But he would insist on taking you out to dinner, treating you kindly to a romantic date that consisted of expensive dinners or trips to random places - the arcade and the beach being recurring destinations. He’d never let you pay, sometimes making you wonder how he could afford the expensive meals - he never did clarify what his job was - but you wouldn’t decline the dates if it meant you could see him. After the second date, he would always tentatively kiss you goodnight, the connect short and sweet, leaving you craving more. You never shared more than that - though you wished you did.

Tonight was one of those nights. Taeyong had sent you a sweet morning greeting, telling you that he was going to take you out for dinner that night. He didn’t specify where - only to dress elegantly, finishing with a cheesy remark that you always looked fabulous. He planned to pick you up at six sharp, leaving you the rest of the day to clean around the house and prepare for your fancy date.

At five, you jumped in a shower, dressing in a lacy set of red lingerie before doing your hair and make up. You picked a sleek black dress from your closet - an expensive present you had gotten from your family one year but never found reason to wear - that would accentuate your curves, but not flaunt you in a promiscuous way. The skirt flared out against your thighs and the top hugged your chest, not being too showy around your cleavage. You wanted to impress the man, not make it seem like a slut. You finished with a pair of low heels and minimal jewelry consisting of earrings and a necklace Taeyong insisted he buy you on your third date.

Exactly at six, he was knocking on your door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. He smiled brightly, tilting his head cutely in greeting. The silver earrings swung with the movement, a few loose strands from his slicked back hair flopping loose. He wore a red and black checkered jacket over a black and white checkered button up shirt, tight black jeans with rips in the knees hugging his lean waist.

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, extending the flowers towards you. “These are for you.”

“You know you didn’t have to, Tae,” you giggled, taking the flowers from him and relishing in the delicate aroma they offered. “But they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I know I didn’t have to but they always make you smile,” he mused with a smile. He watched you rush to put the flowers in a vase before grabbing your purse, locking the door on your way out. His arms wrapped around you, hanging loosely at your side as he stared down at your smiling face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you murmured with a light blush, running your hands up his arms, resting on his biceps. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Not that it’s hard for you with your face.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, taking your hand. “Shall we get going? Dinner awaits.”

“Lead the way.”

He led you to a car - which was rare - that took you to your mysterious location. The tall man in the driver’s seat introduced himself as Johnny, giving you both a smile before driving off. Turned out the man was one of Taeyong’s friends that he had told you briefly about before, and he had kindly offered to drive you both seeing as Taeyong didn’t have a license himself. Johnny kept to himself, allowing you to talk freely with Taeyong, the red haired man flirting carelessly the entire time.

You arrived at a tall building, Taeyong chuckling at the confused look on your face when Johnny parked the car and opened Taeyong’s door for him. Taeyong held out a hand to help you from the vehicle, thanking Johnny for the ride. The tall man simply pat his friend on the back and gave him a wink before returning to the car and driving off. Your hand slid back into Taeyong’s as he led you to the doors of the building, the doorman nodding.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee.”

The interaction with the doorman and Taeyong further confused you. This was different than your normal dinner dates where you always had a private room or balcony in the restaurants, servers catering to your every need. He wasn’t leading you into a high class restaurant where he could bypass the line and walk straight to a table without question. You were in a pristine lobby with a fountain and couches, a giant chandelier above your head.

He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, snickering at your confusion. He didn’t bother to clarify what was going on. He simply ran his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to the music play above you. When the elevator dinged that you were at the top floor, the man led you out wordlessly, digging into his pocket for a set of keys for the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are we?” you finally questioned, watching him unlock the door.

Taeyong hummed while pushing the door open, allowing you to walk in first. He witnessed you gawking at your new surroundings, the elegant living room of the penthouse you found yourself in leaving you flabbergasted. “Welcome home,” he chimed, shutting the door.

“This is where you live?” you asked, turning to the man. In the time you knew him, he had never once talked about where he lived. You had never seen his house, always spending time together in your tiny, cozy apartment. Now, you were staring at the large living room with multiple plush couches, art lining the walls, and a large kitchen and dining room in the distance. The table was decorated with candles and place settings, a bottle of wine being chilled in a bucket.

“Is it too much?” he asked, pouting slightly.

“You just never mentioned you live in a penthouse!” you scolded, shoving him lightly before wrapping your arms around him. “But this is breathtaking.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. “I figured that today is our fifth date, not counting our little cafe rendezvous when we first met, so what better date night than for me to make you dinner in my own home.”

“You’re making dinner?” you chirped, gleefully bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I love your cooking so much.”

“Well, go ahead and get comfortable and I will get cooking.”

You nodded, watching him make his way into the kitchen. He poured you a glass of wine before he started cooking, watching you sink into one of the couches to watch him. He caught you occasionally looking around to take in the impressive surroundings, laughing to himself. He told you that his friends lived in their own apartments in the lower floors, leaving you to wonder what exactly they did to afford this. You didn’t know his exact line of work - he always just said business - but he was obviously successful enough to afford the penthouse of the building.

Taeyong beckoned you over when food was ready, pulling out your chair for you. He poured you more wine before serving you a piping hot bowl of bibimbap. Taking his place beside you with his own glass and bowl, he tilted his glass towards you. “To the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You giggled, flushing brightly and tilting your glass to his. With a clink of cups, you responded, “to the most handsome man in the world.”

The meal was delicious, melting on your tongue. You made small talk as you ate, enjoying Taeyong’s giddy nature from drinking. The man couldn’t hold his alcohol at all, and one sip left him red faced and giggly. You helped him with dishes when you were finished, even though he protested it vehemently, finding yourselves flicking water at each other and blowing bubbles into the air.

You curled up on the couch together for a while before he would have to take you home, Your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The silence was welcoming, the sound of his erratic heartbeat all you needed for comfort. He would sometimes hum a song for you, but mostly you just relaxed in his grasp. It was times like this that you enjoyed the most - being with him made you feel content.

In your entire life, you never cared for someone as much as you did the red haired man before you. Never in your life did you like someone as much as you did Taeyong. He made you feel loved and cherished. He made you feel beautiful and wanted.

You wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

You frowned when he suggested it was time to take you home. Instead of calling Johnny to drive you back, you opted for a late night walk so Taeyong could sober himself up, treating yourselves to some crepes on the way. You walked hand in hand the entire way, the sway between you both making your heart jump in your chest.

Arriving at your apartment, you sighed under your breath, turning to look at the man. “Thank you for tonight,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I enjoyed our date. I think this was my favorite date so far.”

“Well, there’s more of these to come,” he chuckled, tugging his lip between his teeth. He stared at you silently, moving his free hand up to your face. His fingers curled against your cheek, smoothing across your skin as you sank into his touch. “Y/N…”

“I should probably go inside-”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, tugging you into him. Your hand was dropped so he could cup your face in both hands, putting everything he could into the connection. The shock from the initial kiss wore off, your eyes fluttering closed and returning his kiss. It was deeper than any kiss you shared before. His head was tilted and your lips meshed together perfectly. Your hands gripped at his jacket, pushing up into him as much as possible.

The world around you stopped. It was just you both in that moment, sharing the most amazing kiss you had ever dreamt of. This was what you wanted, this was what you had waited for. The way his lips dragged against yours as he smothered you with his lips left you eager for more. The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours left you gasping for precious air, yet a desire to return your lips to his.

“Be my girlfriend,” he rasped deeply against your lips.

All you could do was nod in return before he was kissing you again, dropping his hands to your waist to tug you closer. Your hands moved up and around his neck, tangling into his hair, pulling him deeper into you. The kiss intensified, lips speeding up and parting for an entourage of open-mouth kisses to start. Your bodies were flush against one another, heat spreading along your limbs.

The moment was broken from the ring of his phone, the red-haired man pulled back with a scowl. He kept you against him as he fished the phone from his pocket, reading the message he had received. Low strings of curses left his mouth before dropping the phone back into his pants, tilting your head to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Something came up that I need to take care of.”

“Is everything ok?” you wondered, frowning at his for his reaction to the message.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine, I promise. Just some last minute work popped up that I need to help Mark with,” he tried to reassure you. Something was off about his tone, but you nodded at him anyway. He must have caught your uncertainty, pulling you into a light kiss. “I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Now, go inside and I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright, Taeyong,” you whispered, kissing him one last time before backing away to unlock your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, blowing you a kiss as he backed away, turning on his heel and stampeding away.

You watched his form vanish around the corner, tucking yourself into your apartment. Leaning against the door, you let your fingers run along your lips, smiling at the thought of your new boyfriend. The questions you had about his late night business venture were pushed aside for now as you chose to trust the man. You rushed to your room to prepare for sleep, enveloped in happy dreams of the red-haired man.

Outside your building, Taeyong stared up at your window for a moment before a black car pulled up. He quietly filled the backseat, meeting eyes with Johnny and Mark. The blank tint of the windows kept the outside from seeing the gun passed to him by the young lad int he passenger seat, Taeyong checking the clip once over.

“How’d it go?” Johnny questioned cheekily.

“You know the rules,” Taeyong glowered. “Don’t touch my girlfriend and protect her from this shit.”

“What’s going to happen when she finds out?” Mark asked.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s my problem,” Taeyong hummed, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Focus on this deal for now. I can’t have you distracted if this goes south.”

“Yes sir,” both men spoke, the car going quiet as they advanced towards an abandoned warehouse where their deal was to take place.

One year.

One year since you started dating the love of your life. Six months in, you had been the one to say it first.

“I love you, Lee Taeyong.”

He didn’t hesitate to repeat the phrase multiple times while placing kiss after kiss to every inch of your face and neck before curling into you and cuddling you tightly. You didn’t regret saying it, especially after he responded the way he did, loving you just as much as you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend your life with this man; you knew he held your heart in the palm of his hand. But you were happier than you had ever been. This was the highest point in your life.

You started spending more time around Taeyong’s massive penthouse on your days off or after work, your routine with Taeyong nothing different than before. Everything just seemed to get better - especially as his friends started to migrate into your life as well. There were twenty boys living in the building that he worked with, but he had a group of eight others that were closest to the man and popped up most often.

You had met Johnny before when he was your chauffeur for your date, so getting to know the tall American was different. He loved photography and fashion, sometimes spending his time with you on your days off by having mini fashion shows in Taeyong’s penthouse. Taeyong always had a good laugh when he walked in on your faux walking down a runway, planting himself on the couch to watch and take his own pictures.

Taeil was the oldest of the bunch, a quiet man that enjoyed singing with his friends Doyoung and Jungwoo. He was famous in the group for his dad jokes, becoming the butt of many jokes. He also had an equally bad alcohol tolerance to your boyfriend.

Doyoung was a snarky man that loved to pick on Taeyong, but you could tell he cared about him. He had rabbit-like qualities that you found adorable. When Taeyong was busy when you were around, Doyoung would make you delicious meals that left you in a food coma on the couch until Taeyong would return.

Jungwoo was a mischievous little brat, but you always found him to be funny. He whined childishly for attention and played around with the others. He craved long hugs that made Taeyong yell at him because he was taking his girlfriend from him.

Jaehyun was your workout buddy. The fittest of the bunch, the man with deep dimples had offered to exercise with you when you complained you had gotten lazy in Taeyong’s house. You could never keep up with him or Johnny, who often joined you both in the gym, but having someone there to push you was worth it.

Yuta had the most infectious smile. He would always play games with you and make you smile. But the thing you did most often was watch soccer together. The man loved the sport, having grown up playing in Japan, so watching games together was always exciting. He got so captivated by them that he wouldn’t realize he was jumping around wildly.

Haechan was a brat, but he was skilled in dances. He had this innate ability to watch a dance on tv and perform it. His time would be split between the main group of nine and the younger boys in the building. Even with his evil personality, you loved the young boy, happily failing by his side when you would dance together.

Mark was probably your favorite. He was the one around most often, caring for you when Taeyong was working. He had quickly grown to be like a little brother that supported you through everything. He told you about his life in Canada while you told him about your life in Korea, sharing the littlest things with each other. He would play the guitar for you in his spare time, often lulling you to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

You didn’t expect to meet such a rowdy bunch, but they made your relationship with Taeyong even sweeter. And though you still often had dates with Taeyong, you also spent a lot of time with the group on outings. Going out for meals or going around the city was more special with your hand clamped in Taeyong’s and the bundle of males running around you.

As much as you have enjoyed your one year anniversary alone with Taeyong on a romantic date, eating an expensive dinner that you knew Taeyong would insist you have and finishing the night together tangled in the sheets, you were glad you went with the current idea. When the group found out that it was your anniversary, they insisted on taking you both out for a good night.

What started with a fun meal of barbeque that they paid for completely, not a single cent paid by you or Taeyong, turned into a drunken mess at a nightclub. Hesitant at first, you barely took a shot or two of soju with the others. Taeyong was wrecked just from those couple shots, beginning to drink more and more. Watching him enjoy himself let you relax, beginning to down your own drinks.

The night slowly became a blur of flashing lights and loud music, but you knew Taeyong was always by your side. Either his hand was in yours or resting somewhere on your body - the small of your back, wrapped around your waist and hugging you to his side, and resting on your thigh as you sat at a booth, drinking and playing games together.

You danced together, your body rolling against his. He was obviously more skilled than you were, but even in his shrunken state, he led you confidently and naturally, grinding against you eagerly. Your back pressed against his chest as his hands sat on your hips, fingers splayed against bare skin from where you shirt rode up. When you faced him, you arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his fluffy red threads.

Hot kisses were left on your mouth, your lips left puffy and swollen from the multiple attacks he left on you. You were already warm from the club and the plethora of people around you, but your body was searing against his. Each taunting kiss he gave you, lips parted and tongue slipping into your mouth, left you craving more. Your hands wandering against his form, trailing up and down his arms, let him panting, the man tugging his lip between his teeth.

“We should get out of here…”

That’s all he had to mutter once for you to find yourself escaping the heat of the club and back in Taeyong’s penthouse. It was past midnight when you stumbled through the door together, your lips latched together in a sloppy kiss. Your arms were wrapped weakly around him, trying to kick off your shoes as you pushed into the doorway. Taeyong kicked the door shut with his foot, struggling to lock it and discord his sneakers before entering the house. He couldn’t focus with your lips connected to his, your tongues swirling together eagerly between your cheeks.

He picked you up with easy, a squeal of shock lost to his throat. His steps were uneven as he moved forward, supporting you with one hand on your ass, the other following the wall to guide him through the darkness. The kiss broke when he tripped over the rug and bumped into a table, a bruise bound to form on his knee. Low curses left his lips, the man rushing into the bedroom.

The door slammed shut behind you, Taeyong turning to trap you against the sealed entryway. His lips found home once more on your own, igniting another fiery kiss between you. You happily returned it, tasting the vast amounts of alcohol that lingered on his taste buds. A subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips told you to part them and let him inside, which you willingly complied. The taste of the bitter liquid from the evening was heavy on his tongue as it roamed your cheeks.

Your moans were muffled, mind foggy in the midst of the kiss. It didn’t occur to you that his hands were traveling up your sides, pushing at the bottom of your shirt until it was resting underneath your breasts. The skim of the pads of his thumbs against your sides and ribs sent shivers up your spine, more mewls of delight lost to the sensual lip lock. Taeyong pushed harder against your, his hips rutting against your clothed core, both sets of jeans blocking what you truly desired in that moment. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, letting out a groan of his own.

The first time you separated, chests heaving for precious amounts of air, he uttered two short words.

“May I?”

You knew what he wanted, even in the blur of words that met your ears. You nodded at him, arching off the door long enough for him to rid you of your top, the cotton fabric strewn across the floor carelessly. Lips back to yours for a single second before disappearing south, searing hot kisses leaving a wet trail along your neck and clavicle. Your swollen lips parted with delicious moans for him to savor, trembling fingers lacing through his locks on the back of his head.

His teeth toyed with the strap on your left shoulder first, playfully nipping at your skin in his futile attempts to drag the strap down your arm. Your mewls of delight mixed with short giggles before taking the opportunity to rid yourself of the pesky garment. Taeyong pouted without a doubt - he always hated when you did it for him - but didn’t bother to argue.

His lips found home on your bare chest, lips wrapping around the pert nipple on your right breast. A content sigh left your mouth, back arching into his touch. Your hands twisted through his red strands, giving him a tug whenever he found a sensitive spot on your chest. You tried to watch him through the haze, but your eyes were blurring too much.

Was it the alcohol still present, slowly wearing off? Or, was it the pleasure of him suckling at your nipples, giving them short tugs with his teeth, and pulling away with short pops that rang in your ears?

You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were in heaven.

Taeyong spent several long minutes pleasuring your chest, red marks lingering on the mounds and between them when he swaps between them on occasion. With each kiss he left, and each bite he left, his hands holding you up against the wall grabbed at your backside. His hips ground against yours, becoming more frequent and harder against your covered core. The bulge in his tight jeans was obvious, growing more prevelant by the second. His cock was stiff, and his actions just solidified what he wanted.

Placing you on unsteady legs, his nimble fingers made quick work of your pants, the man kneeling long enough to tug them down your legs. Your panties came with, leaving you naked before his eyes. The red head toppled slightly, nearly falling on his ass in his tipsy state. A mixture of the alcohol and his awe at your body left him speechless and wobbly, slowly standing while working at his own jeans.

Your hands were quick to replace his, struggling to undo the button of his dark skinny jeans. Taeyong had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself upright, his other hand massaging his face a few times before pushing his hair back. Low groans and swears escaped, staring down at you when you grew frustrated and collapsed to your knees, stumbling just as he had.

“Dammit,” you growled, tugging angrily at the jeans when they wouldn’t unbutton. Taeyong chuckled deeply.

“Need a hand?”

“No. Fuck you. I can do it myself.”

The man let out a hefty chortle at your frustration, repaying you for what you did earlier. His fingers made quick work of his own jeans, the button unsnapping and zipper slowly lowered before your eyes. With a short huff, you tugged the dark denim down his legs, leaving them around his ankles so you could rub at his covered cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned loudly. The hand he had on the wall slowly curled into a fist, pounding against the wall lightly. You smirked up at him, biting at your lip. He rarely cursed, but when he did, you knew he meant business. “Don’t tease me.”

You clicked your tongue at him as you tugged his boxers down, letting him spring free. The fabric was left to pool at his feet, you focus turning to the large cock staring straight at your face. It twitched with anticipation, the tip red, swollen and oozing precum. It pulsed as your fingers grazed along the shaft. The sight made your mouth water, tongue tracing your lips slowly.

Taeyong’s fist pounded harder to the wall, a loud grunt exhaled when he felt your lips on the tip just before taking the entire length between your cheeks. He struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision to watch you bobbing your head along his cock. Your hand gripped the base firmly, pumping it in time with your bobs. Your tongue trailed along the underside of his shaft as you moved, the tip traveling along the pulsing vein that protruded out. Your other hand toyed with his balls, juggling them between your fingers and giving them light squeezes.

“Shit,” he cursed again, earning a small smile from you. Taeyong leaned forward, placing his head against the wall, heavier pants starting to leave his lips. He could barely form words with the overwhelming ecstasy of your mouth around his cock. “Please, baby. Give me more.”

You kept your motion steady, not giving into his plea entirely. You wanted to savor the taste of his salty sweetness that seeped onto your tongue, overriding the bitter drink from the early evening. Taeyong didn’t seem pleased; his hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head, his hips jutting forward suddenly. He halted when you gagged once, knowing his abrasive stunt was a bit much.

When you were situated, stilling your movements but keeping his cock resting on your tongue, he thrust forward against. He leveraged the hold he had on your hair to push you forward, your nose meeting his pelvis. His cock met the back of your throat repeatedly as his timed thrusts met your forced head bobs, a slobbering wet gurgle of him fucking your mouth filling the air. Taeyong moaned loudly, unable to keep his voice down - not that he needed to.

He didn’t stop until he was groaning loudly, his wild thrusts that had grown sloppy ceasing and he was spilling his salty seed down your throat, the white ribbons of cum filling your cheeks and swallowed happily. He pulled out at the end, hand wrapping around the base and giving it a few final pumps. The last few shots landed on your face and chest, your tongue extended to try and capture them. You let out a hearty giggle, tracing the cum along your face and chest with a finger.

Taeyong huffed when he watched you suck the finger clean. The man, fed up of waiting, hoisted you up by the hand before lifting you bridal and turning towards the bed. With the fabric still bundled around his ankles, he stumbled forward, kicking anxiously at them to discard.

You were thrown careless on the bed with a light yelp and laugh, Taeyong pouncing on top of your bare form. His lips instantly met yours, furious open mouth kisses shared. Your bodies were grinding against each other rapidly, hands eagerly tracing each other’s forms. Your legs twisted together, feet playfully nuzzling against one another. Your arms looped around Taeyong’s neck, fingers curling through his tangled red hair.

Taeyong pulled away, glancing between your forms long enough to align himself with your core, sheathing himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your eyes closed, moaning and groaning from his size. He wasn’t the largest man out there, but it never ceased to amaze you whenever you were intimate how well he could fill your pussy up. The man stilled, peppering your face with kisses and uttering sweet nothings until you gave him the signature tap on the shoulder to let him know he could continue.

His thursts always started slow, pulling back until he was about to leave you empty and then pushing back in completely. The pace would be slow and steady, soft moans leaving you both. But as time went on, he would gain momentum, hips starting to snap into yours hastily until he was slamming into you, pressing you into the mattress. The sound of clapping skin grew louder, the moans became screams of his name, and your body trembled under his.

You were quick to orgasm, feeling his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight core quickly, pounding at you quickly. The tip pushed against your g-spot every time he pushed into you, earning himself a breathy pant from below him. Your walls would hug around him, making it harder for him to concentrate on his thrusts. It grew worse when he felt you shudder, back arching and toes curling. Your pussy squeezed him, spilling around his thick shaft and soaking it completely.

Taeyong stopped moving, not wanting to fill you up so soon, watching your twitching form relax after a minute. Leaning back on his knees between your legs, he pulled himself out, satisfied at how wet his shaft was. HIs fingers toyed with your sensitive entrance for a moment, hearing you groan and watching you twist in subtle discomfort.

He placed a longing kiss on your lips before turning you on your side, laying behind you. His fingers ran along your sides soothingly, drawing different shapes on your stomach and chest. He carefully draped your leg back over his hips, jutting his forward to slide himself between your pussy lips. A low mewl escaped, turning your head back to him to share a loving kiss just as he pushed into you once more.

His hand gripped at your breast, lips pressed to your shoulder. His thrusts picked up steadily, pushing himself deeply into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, his already moist length sliding with ease between your tight walls. He collided with your backside with each thrust, groaning happily with every smack he heard. The bed squeaked with his quick thrusts, jostling with the movements of your bodies.

Despite his hard and fast repetition of his cock pushing into you, his lips placed kisses to your ear. You could hear his pants and low grunts in the buzz of your ecstasy, enjoying the way he felt thrusting into you furiously. Every slam into you made your head spin, the feeling of his length sliding against your walls causing your heart to beat faster. The way his lips felt against the side of your head at the same time that his cock pushed deeping to and pressed against the most sensitive spot to make you quiver was causing your stomach to burn.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your ear softly, nipping at your earlobe. When you moaned in response, his lips curled upwards. His hand grasped tighter to your breast, burrowing his face into you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I love…” you started, panting quickly.

Taeyong knew what you wanted to say. It was clear. He also knew that you were close again - because so was he. His thrusts were growing sloppy and he could feel your walls tightening sporadically around him. You were both chasing the final high of the night as exhaustion was becoming apparent.

He pulled out, leaving you whining and empty. It wasn’t for long because he pushed you once more on to your back, sliding into you quickly and roughly. Every time, Taeyong had a thing for finishing in a way where he could see your face. He loved to watch you ascend into heaven, feeling blissful from sex. He leaned on his knees between your legs, one hand pushing your leg back and resting on the back of your thigh so your foot rested on his shoulder, and the other pushing your other leg out to spread you wide for him. His eyes were cast onto you body, swapping between your breasts bouncing with his quick snaps, to your heavenly face, swollen lips parted with moans.

“Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat running down his brow. “Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded. Rule number one with Taeyong: he always wanted to make sure you were pleased before he was. He always made sure to make you cum before him, and if he didn’t he would work extra hard to please you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to beg for you to snap under him.

“Tae…”

“I know baby,” he let out, heaving for air. “Come on. We’re almost there. Just let it go for me.”

“I love you…”

He grit his teeth and dove in for one last kiss, both of you breaking at the same time. Your bodies trembled together, your juices spilling around his length and his thick seed filling your core completely. Your inner walls were painted white by the strings he spewed, letting them decorate your core in warm stickiness. You moaned into his kiss, too weak to hug him close.

You were limp when he pulled out, half-lidded eyes watching the satisfied man. His fingers danced along your core, spreading your pussy lips to watch your combined juices trying to escape. One slick finger carefully pushed the juices back in, causing you to shutter and mewl his name. Content with the pleasure, he collapsed beside you, two sweaty bodies sticking to his silk sheets. A thin blanket was dragged over your bodies, one of his arms draping across your stomach. You curled into his side, letting out a long breath.

“I love you so much,” you whispered again. Taeyong didn’t reply, making you glance up at him. “Taeyong?”

“Move in with me,” he whispered. you almost felt like you didn’t hear him right. You blinked a few times before sitting up slowly, groaning in pain. You hugged the blanket to your chest, turning to the man.

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “You’re already here all the time, and you shouldn’t have to be paying for the dingy apartment. I love you so much, baby, and I want you to live with me.”

The room grew quiet, the air thick. You repeated the offer in your mind. The alcohol had worn off at this point, so there was little chance that he wasn’t thinking straight. Taeyong stared at you silently as you thought, biting at his lip. Only when you carefully took his hand in yours and placed them laced together in your lap did he let out the breath he had been holding.

“I will,” you mumbled before turning to him and kissing him passionately. “I will, Taeyong. I love you so much. I will move in with you.”

“Wonderful,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “You just made a man very happy today.”

“Well, you always make me happy,” you told him back.

“Yeah. I always will…”

You awoke to the sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains, the light hitting your face directly. A low groan left your lips as you turned over, finding the bed cold and empty beside you. Since moving in with Taeyong, you had become accustomed to the morning he was gone when you woke up. He had work to do, and he hated to disturb you when he left.

When your eyes fell on a small box on your side tab and a folded note, you smiled. Carefully sitting up, blanket to your chest, you grabbed the two items, looking at the note first. It was short:

A beautiful present for a beautiful woman. I will be home for dinner, so I will see you then. I love you. Have a wonderful day babe.

You shook your head, looking into the box. It was a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that would dangle and shine from your lobes. You shook your head, letting out a short laugh.

“That man,” you scowled playfully. “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”

He always bought you presents, especially after you moved in months ago. They were always expensive, and you would yell at him for wasting so much on you. He said it wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you. It left you wondering how much money he had. You never fought him hard about it; the gesture was always sweet and made you smile because he thought of you so much.

Climbing out of bed, you grabbed an outfit from the closet, showering and dressing quickly. It was the early afternoon when you stepped out of the penthouse, leaving the large building with a pep in your step. You walked down the road to a small market store on the corner, a place you would frequent when you had small cravings or needed mild groceries. With the thought of Taeyong returning in time for dinner, you wanted to return his generous gift with a homemade meal of his favorite items - complete with a chocolate cake.

The only issue was you were low on groceries. The last of your groceries went to a large group dinner a few nights prior, the pair of you opting for take out after that. You figured you would only get a few groceries for the time being until Johnny could take you down for a full grocery run.

The door jingled when you walked in, the street oddly empty. You paid no attention to the lack of people around, waving at the store owner who sat at the register behind the counter. You grabbed the small reusable bag and disappeared down the aisles, humming to yourself as you searched for what you needed.

“Let’s see. If I make kalguktsu, I will need more noodles and vegetables. We have stock still, and I could pick up some prawns for it too. Maybe grab some snacks and something for lunch. Maybe some kimbap…”

You talked to yourself as you placed the desired items in your bag. Making it to the last aisle for your snacks, your eyes ran over the items, searching for anything that sounded good. You kneeled to the floor to look at the lower shelves, placing the bag aside, when the door jingled again. Initially, you paid no mind to it, figuring another customer walked in.

Until you heard a gunshot.

You collapsed to the side in shock, watching the water canister in the corner get pierced, water leaking onto the ground and flooding it. You covered your mouth in shock, afraid to make a noise.

“Well, well, Dohyeon,” someone spoke, causing you to shake. “Is anyone else here?”

Your breathing stopped. you glanced towards the end of the aisle, afraid they would hear you or find you. You could feel your hands shaking, tears starting to leak from your eyes. With bated breath, you awaited the owner’s response.

“No,” he responded confidently, no waiver in his voice. “It’s been slow today. But I guess I know why.”

“Yeah,” the person responded. “Come on in, boss. Coast is clear.”

The door jingled, two pairs of footsteps tapping against the floor. You waited to hear what they would have to say, but what you heard made your heart stop for reasons other than fear.

“You should have known I would find out.”

Through bleary eyes, you glanced up, finding a reflective mirror in the corner of the store. In front of the counter stood four men - four men you knew too well. Johnny and Jaehyun held guns at the owner - Dohyeon - while Mark stood behind the man with familiar red hair. You wanted to cry and sob, but you couldn’t. You were appalled to find Taeyong there, staring down Dohyeon with his own gun.

“You knew those drugs were mine. You were supposed to sell them for us. But no. You had to go and doublecross us and sell the stock to Stray Kids? What kind of profit did you make off that.”

Dohyeon was quiet.

“Yeah, you know I’m fucking pissed. You know better than to cross me. But you did anyway!” Another shot fired, making you jump as a counter behind Dohyeon collapsed. “Now, you’re lucky I’m willing to give you one last chance. I could easily kill you here and now, but you haven’t done us wrong until now.

“But, it won’t come free. I want you to hand over all of the cash you received from them, plus interest. And I expect the next time we give you something, you make sure to stay selling for us. Your cut will be reduced until you are back in good faith, but it’s better than being dead, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Dohyeon whispered bitterly.

“You don’t sound very grateful,” Taeyong growled. “Would you prefer I just shoot you here and now? I can make that happen.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Mark threw a bag on the counter. “Put the money in the bag. All of it.”

You watched Dohyeon load the bag with money from under the counter, as well at the money from the register to satisfy Taeyong’s demands. The bag was zipped shut, Mark taking it from Dohyeon’s grasp. The owner sat back down, watching the four men.

“Think of this as a warning,” Taeyong sneered. “You agreed to this. You work for me and if I find out you are pulling some shady shit again, I will have you killed in the most gruesome way possible. No one fucks with NCT. Am I clear?”

“Yes…”

“I say am I clear?!”

“Yes sir!”

“Good. And if anyone asks what happened here, we were never here. Some kids vandalized you, or something of the sort. You’re a smart man. That’s obvious by trying to sell to Stray Kids, but not smart enough if you didn’t think you’d be caught.”

Taeyong made his way to the door, Mark in tow. Johnny and Jaehyun followed behind them both, never lowering the guns. Taeyong sent one last glance at the man behind the counter.

“Pleasure doing business as always.”

When the door closed and the jingling stopped, you dropped your hand, feeling your entire body trembling. After a minute passed, and you were sure they had left, you stood on shaky legs, grabbing the bag from the ground. You stumbled out of the aisle, slipping in the pool of water on your way to the door. Dohyeon said nothing as he watched you slap money onto the counter and rush out the door. You ran down the street with bag in hand, disappearing into the sudden sea of people that flooded the previously vacant area.

Sitting at home awaiting his return was nerve wracking. The second you got home, you threw yourself into another shower, collapsing to the floor and wailing loudly with sobs. The remainder of the afternoon was spent replaying what happened, and pondering how to confront Taeyong about what you had witnessed. You watched the time tick on, curling into yourself with a blanket on the couch.

Taeyong walked through the door with a smile, dropping his keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his red jacket. “Baby, I’m home,” he called happily, making his way into the living room. He expected to find you cooking or watching tv, but let his smile fade when he noticed the silence and you curled up on the couch staring at nothing. “Babe?”

You didn’t respond, worrying the red-haired man. He rushed forward, taking a seat at your feet. His hand ran along your blanket covered leg, pausing when he felt you flinch. Taeyong frowned, tilting his head at you. “Y/N, what’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I saw you…”

“What?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him. He could immediately tell you had been crying from your red and swollen eyes. “Tell me honestly - what is your job?”

“I…” he started, but stopped, turning away.

“I saw you at the little corner store you took me too and we always shop at.”

He stayed silent.

“Taeyong, I want the truth.”

“I think you already figured it out,” he rasped bitterly before sighing. “If you want out now, I won’t blame you. I won’t hold it against you. And I will make sure that no one comes after you for it as long as you remain quiet about what you know.

“But I… I have lied to you many times. And I’m not proud of that. I honestly should have never dragged you into this, but I couldn’t help myself. I have lied about many things, but I have never lied about my feelings for you. I love you with all my heart, Y/N, and I will do anything to keep you safe.

“But I understand that I have made mistakes by keeping this from you. I never wanted you to be involved, but I should have seen this coming one day. And I’m sorry.”

His gaze was on the floor as he talked, but shot up when your cold hand took his, lacing your fingers together. He stared at you, nervously holding his breath. “I don’t like that you lied about this. That you kept this from me for so long.”

“I know…”

“But, I’m also in too deep,” you murmured. Taeyong gave your hand a squeeze. “I fell in love with you the day I met you and I’ve only gotten deeper since then. I… I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to leave you.”

“You know I live a dangerous life, right?”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” you told him. “But, we are in this together. I will support you and help you where I can. We’ll just be partners in crime.”

Taeyong bit his lip, running a hand through his red hair until the strands were tousled and sticking up in random directions. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? I don’t want you to feel pressured to join this lifestyle because of me.”

“I’m sure,” came your meek voice. The man could tell you were scared of the answer, of the path you were agreeing to, but the solid grip on his hand and the fire behind your blown orbs gave him your resolve. “I want to stay by your side. I will help you no matter what.”

“Partners in crime, eh?” he chuckled weakly, smiling weakly at your own giggle in return.

“Yeah. Partners in crime. If you go down, I go down with you. I’m not leaving your side in this. I know I may not seem like the best candidate for this, but I am a quick learner for whatever you need. Train me for whatever you think you need me for.

“But going forward, you can’t keep things like this from me. If you want to make this work - to make us work - we need to have this trust. If you are as serious about us as you say you are, and I know you are because I have felt your love and passion, then we need to be open. Which means no lies, no deceit, and most of all, standing by each other’s decisions. We are partners in life, in death, and now, in crime I guess.”

You paused briefly to let out a breath, watching the man nod at your words. “I won’t deny that I am scared of what I am agreeing to, but I will do what I have to because I want to be with you. Until death do us part.”

Taeyong didn’t say anything. The leader silently crawled onto the couch with you, your body shifting slightly so he could nestle himself between you and the back cushions. His head rested on your breast, one arm looped loosely around your waist. Your hand ran through his ruffled locks, feeling his tense form starting to relax at the soothing motion. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was scared too - not for the work he did, but for your inevitable involvement.

“I love you. So much…”

His voice was low and muffled, but his words were clear.

“I love you too…”

It made you wonder how a man as soft as the one curled into your side was when you were alone could be so ruthless. You heard him that day threaten the owner of the store, and the thought alone still sent shivers up your spine. But it was just another thing you were going to accept about the mysterious man.

You were serious when you said to death do you part. You were determined to stand by his side in every situation. He loved you and you loved him. Even though he was a dangerous man, you knew you couldn’t escape.

He had your heart in his hand after all.

Hours later, long after the sun had set and the clock struck midnight, you sat on the same couch, listening to Taeyong pace around behind you. After your confrontation upon his return home, you prepared dinner and had an emotional discussion about everything. He revealed everything to you in that time, laying his life on the table before you.

He led a small mafia group called NCT. They were one group under a larger organization, and their group controlled the area you lived in. There were twenty-one boys in their unit, breaking into smaller units to manage their territory. Taeyong mentioned there were rival groups that tended to do business in their area, but for the most part, they didn’t clash too much.

Taeyong, though he led all of the boys in the building, worked mostly with the eight other boys you had spent so much of your time with. The other two groups, Dream and WayV, had members who lead them when Taeyong couldn’t. The building they lived in was owned by their organization.

And as he spilled everything, including his background and how he got involved coming out of high school, everything seemed to click more given everything you had been through with him since you met. Yet, it didn’t change your feelings for him. It just solidified his trust in you and his desire to have you in his life.

Now ame the hard part.

“What’s going on boss?” a loud voice chimed as the front door opened widely, eight chipper boys filing through the entryway quickly, led by Mark. “Did something happen with that weapons… call…”

Mark’s voice faded away when the group saw you sitting on the couch and their leader anxiously walking back and forth, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nibbled at it. All of the boys gaped at the sight, unprepared for your presence. Mark seemed the most uncomfortable, seeing as he was about to talk business, assuming that was what they were being called for given the cryptic message they had received that simply said “we have something to discuss. It’s important.”

“Y/N…” Mark stuttered out, panic laced in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here…”

“She lives here,” Yuta pointed out lowly, only to receive a jab in his side from Mark’s elbow.

“Well, just ignore whatever I was saying! It wa a joke really-”

“It’s fine,” Taeyong said, cutting the young boy off. He stopped pacing to face the group, still biting at his nail. “She knows.”

The boys stared at their leader for a minute before bursting into a loud mixture of questions and concerns. Taeyong stared blankly at them until he got fed up with their loud noise, motioning them to silence. The room grew quiet in an instant, all eight of the boys finding places to eat to listen to what Taeyong had to say.

“She saw us earlier today when we went to handle Dohyeon. She knows who we are and what we do. We’ve already talked about it,” Taeyong muttered.

You stayed silent, waiting for someone to react. But the last thing you expected was Jaehyun, your trusted workout buddy, to stand from his seat across from you and point a gun at your forehead. His eyes narrowed on your form, your stare on him unwavering. Deep inside, you were quaking with fear. You barely registered the remaining boys behind him yelling at him to stand down.

The leader wasn’t having this action. Taeyong was swift to react himself, grabbing a gun he kept in a drawer near the couch and aiming it at Jaehyun. Taeyong’s glare at his friend was sharp, eyes darker than normal.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping completely. “Stand down, Jae.”

“She knows, Taeyong,” Jaehyun retorted, never moving his gaze to his leader. “What’s to stop her from spilling this to the cops? What’s to stop her from leaving when we least expect it and turning us in? We aren’t the good guys here, and now your little girlfriend knows our secret. I knew this wasn’t a good idea when you started bringing her here. It was only a matter of time. So now, we need to make sure she isn’t going to turn.”

“Jaehyun-”

“I don’t plan to sell you out,” you spoke up, cutting off Taeyong. “If I did, I wouldn’t have come back here and confronted Taeyong about this.”

“So? That means nothing. You could be gathering evidence to bring to the cops-”

“I love Taeyong,” you cut in. “I wouldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are my friends. We have spent so much time together and I love you guys to death.”

“How can I trust you?” Jaehyun snapped.

“You’ll just have to,” you told him.

“Put the gun down, Jae,” Taeyong told him, watching the man slowly lower the weapon and return to his seat. His own gun was placed aside, placing his hands on your shoulders instead. “We’ve talked about this all night. It hasn’t been easy. But you guys know I love Y/N to death. I don’t want to lose her. And her saying she is willing to accept this part of me, this part of us, means everything to me. I don’t want to lose her.

“So, after talking about it, I’ve agreed to let her join us. She said she wants to help us. But, we wanted to get your guys’ approval for her to join as well. We are a team and I can’t decide this on my own.”

You placed a hand on his that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you guys may be concerned, but I promise you that I am here to help. I don’t want to sell anyone out or see anyone get hurt. I just want to be with Taeyong and all of you.” You paused, feeling Taeyong lean down to kiss the top of your head. “Taeyong and I are partners. I love him with all my heart and I will stand by his side until death do us part. Now, we’ll just be partners in crime too.”

The room grew quiet again, your stomach bubbling with nerves. You weren’t sure what their response would be, or what would happen if they decided you didn’t belong. You feared you would be forced to leave the man you loved because of his occupation.

“So, till death do you part? Does that mean you guys are going to get married finally?” Jungwoo chimed happily, eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for Taeyong to propose for so long. Can I be the flower boy?”

“You’re not even the youngest!” Haechan growled, Jungwoo giving him a smug smile.

“But I’m cuter!”

“Hey, no fighting!” Doyoung scolded the two boys. “They didn’t say anything about marriage yet!”

“We all know it’s coming,” Yuta chuckled, watching your cheeks instantly flush a bright red. You turned to Taeyong, flustered. Taeyong shrugged with an obvious smile.

“They aren’t wrong. One day, you will be mine. But, I plan to propose to you properly.”

“Taeyong!” you screamed, swatting at him. Everyone laughed, Jaehyun excluded. As everyone quieted down, Taeyong spoke back up.

“By a show of hands, how many of you are in favor or letting Y/N join? Before you decide, please know that we will need to train her in what we do.” His eyes turned to Jaehyun for a moment before continuing. “On a count of three. One… two… three…”

Four hands shot up instantly - Mark, Jungwoo, Haechan and Yuta. three hands were slow to follow - Taeil, Doyoung and Johnny. Everyone turned to Jaehyun, who had yet to decide. The man stared deeply at you, mouth in a tight line.

“If she joins, I am in charge of training,” his cold voice cut in. “I don’t trust her in this situation and if things turn south, I will not hesitate to end this deal.”

You shivered at his words, but glanced up at Taeyong, giving him a nod. Taeyong sighed.

“Fine, but just know that if you turn around and kill her, I will kill you.”

“Deal,” Jaehyun said before raising his hand.

Taeyong smiled slightly before nodding. “That’s it. With everyone’s consent,” he hummed, moving to sit beside you. He kissed your cheek swiftly, your face heating. “Welcome to NCT, Y/N.”

You smiled, bowing to the boys. “Thank you for having me.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Mark hummed, everyone agreeing.

You knew he wasn’t wrong.

If you ever thought you’d be good at something in life, it wasn’t your skill with fighting or with a gun. It wasn’t your natural ability to be intimidating on command. Maybe you thought you’d be good at sewing, or maybe drawing beautiful scenary on paper.

But no.

Under Jaehyun’s watchful eye, the glint from the darkness as he watched you punch at a dummy in the weight room before pushing it back completely despite being twice your size, or when your eyes narrowed on a target, the sudden jolt of the gun in your hands leading to a bulls eyes through the forehead of your paper victim, you had managed to fit right now with the mafia boys you had come to love.

Jaehyun, naturally, still had minor suspicions of you, even after months of one-on-one training to get you in tip top shape to be a member. But, the day you managed to take him down in a spar, leaving you giddy with delight before hopping around the room ecstatically, he started to lay off on his threats to end you so willingly. When you hadn’t spilled the truth to anyone, even when your former boss asked why you were quitting so suddenly, he felt a bit more at ease. When you took training seriously, showing up early and staying extra late to master what he was trying to teach, pushing through pain to continue, he would smile just a bit at your determination.

Taeyong couldn’t have been more proud. He had told you that on many occasions. When he would pop in to assess your progress, he never found a second to be unimpressed. You had grown strong in your time with Jaehyun, making you a force to be reckoned with.

And he couldn’t lie when he said it wasn’t attractive.

There were the days when he would join in on your hand-to-hand training, after Jaehyun was willing to allow his boss to intervene. There were days he would be in the gun range on the ground floor, hidden deep in the back in a soundproof room, where we would watch you fire shot after shot without missing your mark, sometimes joining for a small competition. He never lost, but you didn’t make it easy when he would get distracted by your beauty.

In those days, Jaehyun would dismiss himself early, trusting his boss and friend in case something were to happen. And he was right - in a sense. Those were the days you found yourself getting frisky with your lover, moaning loudly while he thrust into your wet core. He’d have you pressed against a mat in the training room, or sitting atop the table in the gun range where you’d place your unused weapons, pounding you like an animal in heat, leaving searing hot kisses along your face and throat. You’d have to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it to be with Taeyong in that way; night time was never the best for intimacy when you were both exhausted.

Part of you was glad that no one ever walked in when you had those moments, but part of you was also convinced that Jaehyun knew what would happen when you were left alone together, and he would warn the others not to disturb you.

He was cold, but you knew he meant well.

When you awoke one morning nearly six months into your newfound profession, you found Taeyong dressed in a black turtleneck and tan trench coat, loose blue jeans hugging his slim waist, and his bright red locks slicked back the way he did when he meant business, you knew he was on a job that day.

“I want to join,” you meekly voiced, catching him off guard. The man whipped around to face you, adjusting his necklaces.

“You’re worn out, baby. And this is a pretty big job today. I don’t want you to get involved,” he voiced, biting at his lower lip. “This jewelry store owner that we leant money to so he could start up his business hasn’t paid, but he’s not a pushover. I don’t want you there in case things turn ugly.”

“I’ll be fine, Yong,” you hushed him, slinging yourself from the bed and rushing to the closet. Taeyong pouted, following after you.

“Babe-”

“No, don’t start,” you huffed at him. “You’ve only sent me on small jobs. I’m ready for something more, Taeyong.”

“I know, but-”

“But nothing!” you yelled. When Taeyong recoiled slightly, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Yongie. But I think I’m ready. I agreed to do this, to join you guys. So, let me do my job. I can help. And if things go sour, I can handle myself. I’m almost as good of a marksman as you. I can sometimes take down Jaehyun in a fight and he’s not an easy target. Yes, I’m tired because of yesterday’s training, but I’m not too tired to go help you with this. So, please-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his plump lips sealing yours. Your body instantly melted into his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His hands were clasped to your hips, tugging you closer. When he pulled away, finding your eyes closed and lips puckered, he chuckled.

“Shut up and get dressed. We don’t have all day.”

You were left alone, a silent cheer leaving your body before rushing to find an outfit. In a matter of minutes, you were bouncing into the living room, pulling on a loose blouse to go with the tight black jeans. Taeyong’s eyes followed after you from the breakfast bar, licking his lips.

“Do you plan to seduce someone?” he chirped cheekily. “Because I must say, it’s working.”

“Shut up,” you scowled at him, trying to hide the blush and smile on your face while trekking to the front door. You picked up a pair of sleek heels - ones that Taeyong gifted you one day - and turned to the red haired man, giving a sultry wink. “Now, shall we get going, big boy? We have a job to do.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this. You’re gonna be the death of me before we ever get to the store.”

You giggled, pulling on your shoes and slipping out the door. Taeyong closely followed, taking your hand on the way to the elevator and to the garage. Johnny and Mark were waiting, as per usual for things like this, but the look of surprise on their faces when they saw you at their boss’ side made you chuckle. They didn’t question, Johnny simply opening the door so you and Taeyong could slide into the back. The tall man took his place at the wheel, Mark bouncing in the passenger seat as the car rolled from its spot onto the crowded street.

On the drive, you were briefed more in depth about what was going on. Mark, who was busy loading ammo into an arsenal of guns, passed two back, Taeyong tucking one into his jeans and handing you the other. Your heart pounded, looking down at the gun in your hand. It felt heavy in your grip. Despite the training, and the few things you had done for Taeyong, you had not actually used the weapon on someone. Would today be the day? You couldn’t say, but something in your gut said today wouldn’t be a good day. Bile rose in your throat at the worrisome feeling that lingered inside.

The street was near desolate when you arrived, the four of you sliding out of the car and approaching the jewelry store. No one was inside when you entered, a small bell ringing upon your entrance. The store owner, an older man named Youngjae, sitting behind the counter turned his head up with a smile that quickly vanished when he realized who had entered. Taeyong approached him confidently, you and Mark on his tail. The young blonde boy carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. Johnny guarded the door, flipping the sign to closed, securing the lock, and pulling down the sun visor so people couldn’t see what was happening so clearly.

“Time to pay up, Youngjae,” Taeyong spoke clearly, skipping the theatrics and jumping straight to the point. Youngjae’s gaze on the young mafia leader didn’t falter, his lips sealed in a tight line. “Are you deaf? You’re lucky we waited until now to come collect. You are nearly six months overdue on that loan for this shop. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing rather well for yourself.”

Taeyong walked around the store, picking up some necklaces on display that had diamonds that shone brightly, trailing some fingers along the sapphire bracelets, and finally stopping at the engagement rings. He picked one up that had a square cut diamond in the center, two smaller ones adorning either side of it. He seemed to hum in approval, grabbing a velvet box from a stand and turning to Mark.

“Pack up some of the jewelry. We can use it as part of the payment.” Youngjae went to move when the younger male moved to collect from open stands, Taeyong quick to pull his weapon on the man. The older gentleman rose both hands, stilling in his movements, his stoic face unchanged. “Don’t even think about it.”

When Mark finished collecting what he deemed most valuable, he placed the bag in front of Youngjae. “Money,” the boy spoke.

When he didn’t move, Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “You heard him,” the boss sneered angrily, narrowing his eyes. “All of the money in your safe deposit under the counter - I know it’s there because we installed it - and in your register. We’ll take that for now. If you continue to avoid payment, we will come back for the bank account. Sound fair?”

Youngjae continued to stay unmoving.

In a flash, you pulled out your own gun, clicking the safety off and aiming directly at his forehead. Your eyes were dark, making the older man visibly swallow. You were mildly thankful for your quick makeup job, making you somewhat more intimidating than your normal soft exterior.

“I won’t say it again,” you huffed. “Put the money in the bag, or I will shoot you. I don’t have time to play this game with you, so if you value your life, i suggest you do what you’ve been told, pay up when you need to, and move on with your life. You made a deal with the devil for this, so it’s time to pay up. What do you say, sweetie?”

Youngjae silently nodded, opening the register and pulling handfuls of bills out. He followed by kneeling down on the floor to unlock the safe deposit box, pulling out more wads of bills that were all placed into the duffle bag. When he was finished, he backed away slowly, hands still in the air.

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled eerily, nodding at Mark to grab the bag. Taeyong smirked at himself, waving at Johnny to unlock the door. Mark left first, Johnny following to bring the car forward. “Pleasure doing business sweetheart. Don’t let this happen again.”

Blowing in a quick kiss, you made your way to the door, heels clicking and hips swaying. Taeyong followed after you, keeping an eye on the owner before slipping out of the door. You both piled back into the car, the vehicle quick to disappear down the road.

But what you had both missed in that moment was Youngjae pressing the small panic button on the underside of his countertop. His eyes traveled to the small tv on the side of his counter that showed security footage of the car you had gotten into, the man narrowing on the license plate. When his phone rang, police on the other line, he picked up.

“I’ve just been robbed by the mafia. I have their plate number. It’s…”

The events went unbeknownst to you on your way back to the penthouse, Taeyong’s hand on your thigh. He placed a kiss to your ear, nipping it lightly. “That was hot,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d be so turned on hearing you talk like that.”

“Is that so?” you hummed, turning to face him. His eyes were dark and lustful, making you wiggle in your seat. His lips curled up, giving a toothy grin.

“Guys, take care of the goods,” he voiced when Johnny pulled into the garage. You were nearly yanked from the car before it could come to a complete stop, Taeyong lifting you into his arms and carrying you away. Mark and Johnny watched you squeal loudly, cringing when they saw Taeyong smack your backside on his way to the elevator.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Mark mumbled, Johnny nodding in agreement.

The moment you were pushed through the penthouse door, you were dropped onto the couch, shoes and blouse discarded immediately. Taeyong went to pounce on your, narrowly missing your escaping form into your shared bedroom. His huff of annoyance could be heard as you ran into the bathroom, pulling off your jeans and undergarments as you went. You disappeared into the glass shower before Taeyong could join you, starting the hot water up.

Taeyong’s eyes narrowed on your now wet form, watching you make faces at him through the glass. Your form was bare and dripping, and adding that to the memory of early, he was twitching already. The tan coat had been discarded on the bed before he joined you in the bathroom, but he didn’t hesitate to shed the turtleneck and jeans as well. The door was shut, and the glass door was opened, the man appearing at your side.

Immediately, you were tugged into a searing kiss, your body melting into his grasp under the waterfall of droplets that cascaded down your forms. He didn’t bother to ask for permission, his tongue bypassing your lips to attack the inside of your mouth. His hands gripped harder to your hips, veins running along up his hands and along his arms. His head tilted to the side to press perfectly against you, his mouth molding into yours without issue.

He pulled away for air, the steam from the shower making it harder to breath. Taeyong eyes were darker than normal, lust slated within the brown orbs. His tongue passed over his swollen lips, tracing yours slightly from the close proximity, earning a small whimper from within your throat.

“You were wonderful out there today,” he hummed lowly, nipping at your skin until he reached your ear. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump in the way you did. And you way you handled everything?” He paused for a moment, his breath hot on your ear. “It was pretty fucking hot.”

His words made you shiver, a mewl of delight piercing the sound of falling water. Taeyong pushed back his now wet hair, biting at his lip.

“I should reward you for it. How does that sound?”

You didn’t even respond. His face was simply tugged back to yours, eagerly kissing his plump lips once more. Your hands cupped his cheeks, taeyong pulling you taut against his body. His steps moved forward; yours moved back. You found yourself pressed against the chillingly cold wall of the shower, grimacing in the midst of the sloppy connection and arch your back away from the steely frost against your skin. It only pushed you further into the mafia boss’ needy body, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.

His lips traveled from your ear, down your cheek and to your neck, attacking it with suckling kisses that left dark red blotches ebbed on your skin. Your hands on his cheeks slid up to his wet red locks, scratching at his scalp happily. Your body burned under his light touches, feeling his fingers ghosting along your arms to your chest, fondling your breasts for a moment before his lips replaced his diligent digits to suckle at the hardened nipples, finally sliding down between your soaked forms to to with your moist pussy.

The combination of his long fingers alternating between circling your clit and prodding at your core, and his gentle cites and kisses to your sensitive mounds sent your head reeling back, loud moans unceremoniously filling the air. Taeyong’s wicked grin against your chest was obvious almost as much as his increased actions, speeding up rubbing at your nub and popping his lips against your chest when he would tug at the buds.

“Yong,” you whimpered at him, squirming in his grasp. Your stomach churned with arousal and delight, the feeling of his fingers sliding into your tight core adding to the stars you were already feeling. The thrusts of the two digits made you body jolt, his hand quick and nimble. His thumb pressed to your clit as he moved, the man grinning at your face that was twisted with ecstasy. “Oh god, baby. Yes.”

“You like that?” he mused, kissing his way back up to your face. “Or, do you like my cock better?”

“At this point, anything,” you managed to get out, breath picking up the closer you got to your end. “I love you so much, Taeyong.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, kissing you lightly. “I love you too, baby.”

He pulled his fingers back before you could finish, a whining groan escaping you. “You love me but you don’t let me finish? How dare you-”

In a flash, you were spun around, your eyes meeting the wall, barely able to make out the condensation dripping along the white porcelain. Your hands pressed to the surface to keep from falling over, fingers curling against it. The feeling stung against your palms, your hands cold in contrast to the wet wall heated from the water that rained around you. The heat of a body pressed against your back, searing kisses placed along your neck and shoulder, sent shivers along your spine. Strong but delicate hands roamed along your form, hips rutting against your backside slowly, before your right leg was hiked up swiftly.

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered seductively into your ears, lips tracing along the shell delicately.

“Yes, please,” you mewled at him, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Please, Taeyong.”

The low hum heard amongst the shower left your mind blank, anticipation flooding your veins. The slow rut of his hips was agonizing, and it wasn’t until he finally slid into you with one swift thrust that you felt full. A loud moan left your lips, your forehead placed against the wall happily. His thrusts began quick, wasting no time with slamming himself into your tight center and shoving your body further against the wall.

“Oh Tae,” you let out. The familiar curl of his grin against the side of your head was unmistakable at the sound you made.

“God, you always feel so good,” he rasped lowly, jutting himself harder than before and grinding against you harshly. The deep grunt he let out was thrilling to hear. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“I think it’s me that got lucky,” you managed to say through plants, jolting when he resumed his rapid thrusts. “I’m so lucky:”

Taeyong seemed to speed up from your broken words, his cock pistoning in and out of you swiftly. His hips clapped against your ass, your leg hiked up bits at a time that made the angle deeper and his cock hit spots that made you shake. Every push into you, he found that one spot that had you moaning his name pathetically, chanting it like a mantra.

The water was beginning to go cold by the time you were convulsing from his thrusts, feeling his hand wrap around your throat the closer you got to your high. You begged him softly to let you cum, the man commanding you to wait until he was ready to fill you to the brim with his own milky essence. His lips trailed down your neck nipping at the skin with his teeth and giving a gentle squeeze that made your sight go white with a rainbow of stars for a moment.

“Yong, please.”

“Hold on, baby,” he kept saying, gasping the more he did. His thrusts were growing sloppy and forced the longer he went, his grip on your body hardening. With his forehead on your shoulder, he managed to utter a quick, “I’m almost there,” before grunting loudly.

THe last of his thrusts were the hardest and deepest, his cock lingering inside your wet pussy as he released. His milky seed spilled into you in bursts of warmth, painting your inner walls in the creamy white substance. His release sent your own into a fit of spasms, your walls tightening and convulsing around his length. They hugged at his thick shaft, coating it in your release while milking his own. Taeyong’s movements slowed to a gentle rhythm, letting your two forms meld into one against the wall and your cum mixing together deep inside of you.

Fingers pressed against the side of your face, tilting your head to the side. Your hazy gaze landed on the deep brown irises of Taeyong, a warm smile on his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, remaining buried deep inside of you as he pressed a firm and loving kiss to your lips, conveying every ounce of love he felt into the connection. The frozen droplets of water did nothing to you against the heat of your bodies and the smoldering kiss you shared.

And as his lips dragged down against yours, you couldn’t help but to smile.

With your body dried and dressed in onee of Taeyong’s baggy, long-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, you walked into the living room, headed for the kitchen. As you opened the fridge to find something to make for dinner, two arms wrapped around your form, a giggle erupting from your lips. Taeyong snuggled into your neck, lifting you off your feet and kicking the fridge shut.

“Taeyong, no! I’m hungry!” you scowled through a laugh, flailing in the man’s arms. Your actions proved futile, Taeyong carrying you to the couch and falling on his back atop it, placing you on his lap.

“I know. But I wanted to spend some more time with you,” he pouted, the look adorable in your opinion. His fingers played with the hem of the shirt you wore, dipping under it to trace his fingers along your side. “Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you joked, leaning forward to place a butterfly kiss to his nose.

Taeyong sent you a shimmering smile, pulling you into a harder kiss. His tongue bypassed your lips instantly, the kiss growing hotter by the second. Your eyes slipped closed, your body eagerly rolling against his. A deep groan was muffled in his throat, hands pushing desperately at your shirt until your chest was exposed. That was the only time he broke the kiss - so he could attach his lips to your perk nipples, tongue flicking them happily.

“Tae,” you moaned loudly.

You pushed against his chest to sit upright, rolling against him harder and faster. Your jeans pushed into your aching core, feeling his growing hard on through his own pair of black denim bottoms. His hands gripped at your chest, hooded eyes watching you grind against him. Your eyes slid shut, head falling back as his name left your mouth.

“Tae,” you whimpered, cracking open your eyes and turning to look at him. But your movements slowed, much to his dismay. The male under you whimpered and pushed up into you, eager to continue. “Taeyong, what is that?”

The mafia leader ceased his movements, propping himself up on his elbows and turning to follow your gaze. His brow creased at the flashing blue and red lights that reflected slightly on the window.

“The fuck?” he murmured, moving you from his lap and rushing to the window. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”

“The cops?” you whispered to yourself, eying the man you love. Before you could question him more, muffled gunshots could be heard through the building.

Taeyong was quick to rush to the door, grabbing a gun on the way and sliding on his shoes. You jumped up after him, stumbling as you pulled on your own shoes and following after him. The noise in the hallway was louder than in the penthouse, screaming and shouting growing louder as your bounded down the stairwell. Exhaustion was setting in from the numerous stairs you rushed down, but neither of you stopped.

“Taeyong, wait!” you called at the man who refused to slow down. “Don’t rush in there! You could get hurt!”

Seething with anger, he didn’t listen, pushing open the door to the ground floor as soon as he hit the bottom step. You barely could register someone yelling Taeyong’s name and a shot being fired before he was stumbling back, a hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain, pulling his hand back to see the crimson blood coating his fingers.

“Baby, are you alright?” you asked, pulling him further from the door and seating him on the steps of the stairwell. Your own hand trembled, placed on his and feeling the blood slide between your fingers. “Shit, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he grimaced, wincing while adjusting how he was sitting.

“You’re far from, sir,” you told him, ripping off one of the sleeve of the shirt you wore and wrapping it around his arm. “This will help for now but…”

“It’s fine,” he said again. “We need to get out there and meet with the others. I saw them briefly when I opened the door.”

“But what if they shoot again?” you asked, your voice meek.

“I will protect you,” he said, letting out a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay low and you’re going to go left. Jaehyun and Yuta are behind the reception desk.”

“Alright,” you let out.

“Don’t worry. I will be right behind you.”

Nodding, you cracked open the door, crouching low. The flashing of the police vehicles was brighter when you entered the lobby, finding the once beautiful area destroyed. Dead bodies of the staff that were employed by the NCT mafia to man their building were laid in various areas of the room, blood pooling around their unfortunate bodies after being caught in the crossfire. Furniture was ridden with bullet holes, upholstery exposed, and tables and desks having their wood flaked and chipped.

Jaehyun was quick to aid you, pulling you behind the front desk before helping Taeyong over. Yuta, Jungwoo and Mark were with him, heavily breathing and reloading their guns with the limited ammo they had.

“What the hell is going on?” Taeyong snarled at no one in particular.

“The cops, obviously,” Yuta cheekily joked, his laughter ceased with Taeyong’s glare.

“Obviously,” came the leader’s retort. “Did the police say anything?”

“No,” Mark told him, leaning against the desk. “I can only assume we were ratted out after what happened earlier.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taeyong yelled. “Shit!”

“Yong, calm down,” you told him, taking his shaking hand. This seemed to calm him slightly.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Already sent off to the escape tunnels,” Jungwoo mumbled, eyes darting to a wall to the right. Taeyong had told you of the secret passage for escape in case of emergencies. “We told them that we would hold them off so they could get to the cars and escape.”

Taeyong nodded, running a hand through his red locks. His mouth opened, only to be silenced by the squeal of a microphone outside.

“This is the Seoul Police. We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to fire!”

The boys seemed adamant on fighting, telling you to stay down as they opened fire at the door and windows, the police firing back with each shot. The ring of the shots made your head hurt, your hands cupping your ears in an attempt to shield them. Your eyes squeezed closed, curling in on yourself and only hoping that a stray shot didn’t hit anyone.

When the firing came to a stop, and the boys ducked down, thankfully unharmed, they were all cursing. Jaehyun pushed at the desk, dropping his now empty gun.

“We’re fucked,” he growled, ruffling his dark locks.

“No,” Taeyong said firmly. “You guys go and escape. I will keep them distracted.”

“What, no-” Yuta began to protest, but Taeyong shook his head.

“I’m your leader. I swore to protect you all. I will go down fighting for my family.”

Yuta, Jungwoo, Mark and Jaehyun nodded, Marking peering around the desk. “We have a chance now. They aren’t looking in that way. If we can make it to the passage, we’re fine.”

“Good, then go,” Taeyong ordered, turning to look at you. “You need to go with them.”

“No,” you firmly said.

“That wasn’t an offer, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed. “Please, I need you to go. I need you to be safe-”

“I know it wasn’t an offer. I know what you’re thinking, but my answer is still no. I told you a long time ago when I learned what you do that I would be by your side until the end. I will be by your side until death do us part. I’m not leaving you to handle this on your own, Lee Taeyong. If you go down, I’m going with you.”

“Y/N,” he started, glancing at the others. They all held looks of concern, but chose to say nothing when their leader nodded hesitantly. The four men gave you a soft look before they darted for the passageway, the wall sliding open and closed quickly, their forms gone.

Taeyong sighed, leaning his back against the desk. He took the gun from his jeans that he grabbed on his way out of the penthouse, checking the ammo he had. “Not much left, eh?”

“Never thought this would be the end, did you?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Taeyong smiled for a second before becoming serious.

“You should have left while you could…”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard.

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

Together you stood, lifting your hands as you walked towards the door. You spied the barrel of guns aimed at you as you stopped at the door, staring down the cops. Their words fell deaf on your ears waiting for Taeyong to pull the gun and proceed with his last hurrah. Your heart was pounding, hands clammy.

This was the end.

Just as Taeyong reached for his gun, smoke filled the area, shouts and screams and shots firing around the blinded area. Taeyong gripped your hand, tugging you back into the lobby of the building. He rushed towards the secret passage holding your hand tightly. As the wall slid open, he turned back to the doorway, spotting a figure in dark blue with a gas mask on watching them. You turned to follow his gaze, spotting the figure gesture before disappearing into the smoke.

“Who was that?” you asked quietly.

Taeyong pushed against the small of your back to force you into the passage, the wall sliding shut behind him. “Heechul.”

“Who’s that?”

“Our older brother mafia,” Taeyong hummed, smiling giddily. “Super Junior.”

“They came to our rescue?”

“Yeah,” the leader mumbled. “The others must have called them as soon as it was safe.”

“Well, I’m glad then…”

Taeyong chuckled, pulling you into a hug despite the pain he felt in his injured arm. His face nestled into your hair, a low sob escaping his throat. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“We’re both safe.”

“Well, not yet I guess,” Taeyong said. “We need to go. Now.”

“Alright…”

Taeyong took your hand once more, the two of you running down the darkened hall, hoping that nothing would find you at the end.

You hummed a song softly, staring out a crack in the window at the barren road in front of the motel. Your fingers ran soothingly through the dyed black locks of your lover, who was curled up in your lap. Turning to look down at him, your own dyed locks fell against your cheeks, ticking his nose. A smile grew on his face, eyes remaining closed.

You had taken refuge in a small motel far from the city, waiting for things to die down. The boys were scattered and in hiding, just like yourselves. Disposable phones were the only way to keep in contact to make sure everyone was safe still. There was no telling how long you were to live like this, but you didn’t mind it.

“Y/N,” Taeyong sang, finally opening his chocolate colored orbs to look up at you. “I love you.”

He took your hand that was previously resting on his chest into his, playing with the square cut diamond ring you wore. It was the same one he took from the shop that day. A few days after your escape, after Taeyong had been patched up for his injury by the Super Junior mafia and everyone separated for protection, going into hiding, he pulled out the box from his jeans pocket.

“I was going to propose with this that night. I had everything planned - a nice dinner, a big speech, and a night to make love to you - but it all got fucked up. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me,” he had said while laying in bed, fiddling with the box.

“You’re stupid if you think after all of this that I would say no and leave you. Till death do we part, remember?”

You happily wore the ring still, never once taking it off since he slid it on your finger. It wasn’t your ideal proposal, but you weren’t going to argue if it meant you got to be with him. Watching him fiddle with it now, a grin on his soft, handsome features, left your heart fluttering.

“I love you too, Lee Taeyong,” you hummed. “And remember, I will always be by your side.”

“Partners until the end?” He asked. You smiled leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Naturally.”

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4dtk · 4 years

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b’day boy

anon: “hi hi hi hi!!! how’re you!! idk if you’re requests are on but!!! can i request smth where jaehyun thinks the reader forgot abt this bday bc she didn’t text him all day but she actually flys to seoul to see him?? basically johnny helped surprise him!!” quick pretend johnny is living on the same floor as jaehyun for this fic. enjoy anon! :-)

“hey! happy birthday, man,” johnny greets jaehyun, slapping him on the back as the birthday boy answers with a nod and a tired smile.

the dorm’s still quiet in the morning, save for the boiling water and the white noise from beyond the flat. the taller male doesn’t miss the way jaehyun’s smile drops, eyeing his phone a meter away from him in case the plan’s busted.

“hm… hyung, have you heard from (y/n) lately? i haven’t gotten her breakfast text, which is weird…”

jaehyun exits the messaging app for the umpteenth time, seeing if there was anything wrong with the internet or with his phone itself.

johnny shakes his head at the question, going back to prepare his coffee as he struggles to hold back a smile.

“sorry, jae, i’m not so sure about that.”

he saves his phone as it lit up right as you messaged, spamming to the poor guy about nerves and bizarre situations due to your overthinking mind.

(y/n) the homie: ?????? what ???? the hell do i wear!!!!!!!!

(y/n) the homie is typing…

(y/n) the homie: i’m trying to hard rn not to click on jaehyun’s name lol

(y/n) the homie: unnnnf i feel so bad johnny

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: u know for someone that has my contact name in wack ass emojis, i’m not gonna help you fashion-wise

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: don’t worry k, plus it was ur idea!!!! how’s the packing coming along

(y/n) the homie: haha very funny, i am already on the plane mf

“john, hyung, you already made the reservation for tonight yea?” jaehyun asks sleepily, getting up from his comfy position on the table solely to get a chance at johnny’s coffee.

the other hums, having had made reservations for 12 people. sicheng was joining the boys for dinner tonight and taeyong was bringing his girlfriend as well, leaving one last seat for you.

one last text catches johnny’s attention, hoping all will turn out well tonight.

(y/n) the homie: i’m taking off rn, pls follow the plan or i think i’ll actually cry

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: is typing…

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: overdramatic. i will, just focus on getting to korea safe yea

you leave it as that, buckling in and settled in quick well once the plane had reached a certain altitude.

the present you prepared couldn’t leave your mind, debating here and there whether jaehyun would like it or not.

would something go wrong? we didn’t fight before this, did we?

your thoughts travel everywhere, trying your best to relax while you find a film to distract you. soon, you ease into the movie and then, into a comfortable sleep.

it’s almost evening when the captain announces the landing in a few more minutes, bringing you to open the window.

although the clouds seemed to dance around the plane and the deep blue of the sky takes over the day, the sight provides little comfort as you practice your korean in the plane.

you repeat the restaurant’s address in your head even through immigration, steps unknowingly speeding up at how excited you were.

on the other hand, jaehyun gets more and more worried at the lack of texts, eyeing the single one sent early in the morning at 3am, while you bid each other goodbye on facetime. nothing seems to get him out of his daze, having been reminded several times of the car that was waiting for him.

as the manager wishes him a happy birthday, jaehyun could only thank him half-heartedly, staring down at his phone with a frown.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: oh man you gotta have like a full on dance number when u enter or something. your mans can’t stop sighing at his phone like it’s a magic mirror

(y/n) the homie: oh nooo, crap, i feel so bad. i’m omw, gotta thank u for going over my korean before this flight

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you learnt it from the best

(y/n) the homie: 🙄🙄🙄

your eyes pass through many different shops and districts, observing the busy streets of korea and it’s liveliness and wondering if you will ever be up to living in such an exciting country.

it was a long drive, your feet unable to stop moving while you kept yourself calm by counting the exchanged money over and over. a notification from @johnnyjsuh lights up your phone and brings you out of your anxiety for a bit, the instagram story filling up the screen as he records the grand restaurant that they would be dining in.

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: you here?

(y/n) the homie: yes, almost. this person right here is very jumpy and tense

johnny 🔥🥱🕴: breathe, i’ll give u the green light soon

(y/n) the homie: kk

with one foot out the cab, you find yourself needing to calm your heart, feeling the familiar heat and adrenaline rush through your body at seeing your boyfriend.

you eye your phone for the last time, entering on johnny’s cue to surprise jaehyun. with his back turned to the event room, your lips naturally curl into a smile as you watch him through the glass panel.

the gentle jazz pouring from the speakers give the atmosphere its intended ambience, as the boys catch up with sicheng and others converse with each other. they keep their cool according to plan as you enter silently, the gift clutched under your arm tightly.

“guess who?”

with your hands over his eyes, you can almost feel his shock.

“what... no way,” jaehyun’s jaw drops, gaining some laughs from the members as he turns around rapidly. his latches onto your smile, the corners of his lips slowly stretching into a grin before you stumble back at his embrace.

jaehyun holds you tight, as if you’d vanish once you left this room. his arms were wound around you all the way by the next minute, leaving you with no opportunity to breathe.

“babe, i can’t breathe,” you blurt out, making the male release you almost immediately before you attack with your own hug, loving how you could feel the rumble of his chest as he giggled.

“was everyone in on this?” you nodded as he turned to his members, most of them donning bright, sly smiles and jungwoo even winking when he met his eyes.

“y’all are incredible,” jaehyun throws his head back in laughter, an arm naturally encircling your waist as you pile your present with the other’s, making your way to your seat after.

dinner is filled with joviality and loud conversation, even coaxing johnny into revealing that he was the ringleader of the plan. the birthday boy applauds his subtlety, bringing the night to a close an hour or two later as each member finishes their share of the cake.

“i’ll come in later, you guys should head back first,” jaehyun states, pressing a kiss to your temple as the others bid you goodbye.

the lean into your boyfriend feels natural, the cool breeze brushing past your face as he interrogates you about you ghosting him.

“i was so worried, i honestly thought you forgot about me.”

you chuckle, “do you think i really could? when there’s valentine decorations everywhere? i wouldn’t forget it even if it wasn’t valentine’s,” you mused, matching up with jaehyun’s steps.

“it would be sad if my own girlfriend couldn’t remember when i was born.”

the two of you fall quiet, enjoying each other’s company as you stroll around the park near the restaurant.

“say, did you like the surprise?”

“like? baby, i loved it,” jaehyun pulls you in, the walk stopped short while he holds your freezing fingers, “thank you.”

you answer in the form of a smile, tippy-toeing to reach his lips halfway as the moon shines on. it settles your heart in familiarity and warmness, never losing that giddy fondness whenever you were with jaehyun.

“i’d travel anywhere to be where you are, jung jaehyun.”

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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An Art of Balance #35

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: This is it, folks. The last one, the last chapter of this story. I am really emotional right now (and also this mf gave me a really hard time). Keep an eye out for the epilogue that will be uploaded directly after this! ENJOY THE FINALE 💛💛💛

Word Count: ~ 5.000

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Chapter 35: Wishing on a Silver Night

When Lizzie and Orion turned their backs on the hustle and bustle of the party, the air around them immediately grew colder. Now, away from the noise and the light, it took Lizzie’s eyes a moment to adjust to the light of the stars and the moon.

They were heading down the path leading around the Black Lake, walking further away from the castle. The air was rich with the sounds of the summer night; she could hear the crickets chirping and the water of the lake murmuring as it was slapping against the shore. Every so often, a dark, winged shadow would pass over their heads; probably owls from the nearby forest on their nightly hunt.

The air was mellow and smelled of grass and the still warm pebbles littered around the waterfront. Lizzie was loving everything about the peaceful atmosphere, feeling herself relax more and more with every passing moment.

She hadn’t realised just how much she had missed being in Orion’s presence. They were talking about everything and nothing; the match, the party, their friends, Skye’s father and why exactly that bloody House Cup had to be so heavy, it had taken Skye’s and Lizzie’s combined strength to lift it up properly.

Anyone other than Lizzie might have been surprised at Orion’s casual tone and how easy it was to make him laugh; but she knew that this was a side of him not many people were allowed to see. She remembered him telling her how he was using his detached demeanour to determine who was truly willing to listen to him on that night on the Astronomy Tower. He had trusted her enough to share this intimate piece of information about himself. Back then, her conscience had been weighing heavily on her with all of her lies still on her mind.

But there were no more lies left now, she had scraped up every single piece of dishonesty and gotten rid of it. All that was left were these moments right here and now.

Orion had let go of her hand some time ago; his arm was now resting draped across her shoulders and Lizzie was leaning ever so slightly against him. Being so close to him and actually being allowed to enjoy it still felt surreal; she had to constantly remind herself that there was no reason to have a bad conscience anymore.

She couldn’t help but smile broadly as Orion dipped his head back and laughed at something she had said, making her giggle herself all over again. Her cheeks already hurt from laughing but she had no intent of stopping anytime soon.

“You are absolutely right,” Orion chuckled. “If Murphy is not going to lose his mind about the impossible improbability of your last pass, I don’t think I ever knew him at all.” He glanced at her from out of the corners of his eyes. “But by now he should know, nothing is impossible when it comes to you.”

Lizzie laughed lightly. “You flatter me, Captain.”

“Honour where honour is due.”

They fell silent as they continued walking along the moonlit path. It didn’t feel like much talking was needed between them; they were just enjoying each other’s company..

As they moved further away from the castle and the people celebrating, Lizzie became increasingly aware of Orion’s hand on her shoulder. A touch of something else was starting to surface beneath the familiarity of Orion's presence. Lizzie’s heart was beating faster in her chest and the fluttery feeling that had arisen inside her stomach was spreading into every last corner of her body. She thought about adjusting her hand’s position on his back for a moment, but she didn't dare to move it, afraid of making him withdraw his arm.

Lizzie was more than surprised by her own shyness. It wasn’t a feeling she was particularly used to and through the tension that had started building between them during their continued silence, she was unsure on what to do next or whether she should be doing anything at all. The sheer thought of ruining the mood by doing something wrong was scaring her and made her go even quieter.

This wasn’t what she had expected to feel like when she had agreed to leave the party with Orion. With the conflict between her and Rowan being settled for good, Lizzie was free to do whatever she wanted and she was sure about one thing at least - this was exactly what she wanted, what she had wanted all along.

But the fact that there was nothing and no one keeping them apart anymore didn’t make her feel happy at all; instead, she suddenly felt very vulnerable. Her heart was lying out in the open and there was no Rowan serving as an excuse to hide behind anymore.

Noticing her shift in mood, Orion tilted his head to look at her.

“What are you thinking?”

Caught up in her musings, his question took her by surprise. “Sorry, what?”

“You have gone very quiet. Is something wrong?”

Embarrassed her thoughts had been showing that much, Lizzie felt herself blush.

“It’s nothing really, don’t worry,” she mumbled.

Orion stopped and let go of her, placing both of his hands on her shoulders instead; Lizzie was missing his warmth instantly.

“I have always known you to carry your heart on your sleeve, Chaser; until this year, that is. Now that you and Rowan have made your peace, I had hoped you would go back to not being afraid of your own thoughts anymore; you don’t have to hide when you’re with me.”

Although her heart was beating faster, Lizzie felt herself calm down. There was nothing but sincerity and affection in Orion’s eyes, coaxing an apologetic smile from her lips.

“It’s just that I’m not used to feeling so awkward around you.”

Slowly, to give her the time to move away should she choose to, Orion raised his hand to her face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Lizzie’s breath hitched as his fingers brushed her cheek.

“We can always go back if you don't want this,” he told her quietly, his expression not giving his thoughts away.

Lizzie quickly shook her head. There was no place she’d rather be than right here with him. She felt a shiver running down her spine as his thumb caressed her cheek and she covered his hand with hers, his eyes growing soft as he took in her face.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

For a moment, a memory resurfaced in the back of her mind: her and him on the dancefloor at the Three Broomsticks, Orion brushing her hair out of her face and telling her she was looking beautiful with her hair down.

Back then, she had felt confused and terrified, like a deer caught in the headlights. This time, however, she didn’t feel scared; it felt like the moment before jumping off a cliff without knowing how deep the water below might be. She held her breath as Orion’s eyes dropped to her lips and realised for just how long she had been ready to make this jump together with him.

Just as she was about to let go of her thoughts and lose herself in the moment, the approaching sound of hushed voices and subdued giggling cut through the air and had them look up in surprise.

Lizzie strained her eyes trying to make out who was coming up the path behind them. She heard Skye’s familiar laugh and raised her eyebrows in disbelief at the tall blonde figure accompanying her. What business had Rath and Skye going for a walk around the Black Lake together?

So far, the two girls hadn’t seen them and before she could react, Orion took her hand and pulled her off the pathway to where they were concealed by the shadow of a tree. He put a finger to his lips to indicate for her to be silent and Lizzie nodded. She was trying hard not to think about what Skye and Rath had just interrupted.

To calm herself down, she took a shaky breath and leaned a bit forward to better see. Skye and Rath had stopped next to a huge willow tree, apparently engaged in conversation. Lizzie could see Skye squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, but to her surprise, Rath didn’t snap back at whatever she might have said; on the contrary, the deep, warm timbre of her laugh was floating over to them.

A moment later, she had pushed Skye against the trunk of the tree; Skye’s hands vanished in her blonde mane of hair as the two girls Lizzie had always thought detested each other started making out right in front of their eyes.

Not believing what she was seeing, Lizzie’s jaw dropped to the ground. She was speechless for a moment before a giggle escaped her mouth. Trying not to laugh out loud, she clapped a hand over her mouth, her whole frame shaking from the effort to remain silent.

Grinning broadly himself, Orion nudged her and shook his head. He leaned over to her and even through her laughing Lizzie felt the fine hairs on her neck rising as he whispered into her ear.

“Even the most steadfast rivalry can turn into fondness, it seems.” Lizzie could hear the laughter in his voice and turned to look at him; his eyes were sparkling with laughter as he continued, “Maybe we should leave them to it.”

They silently left their hiding place behind; as soon as they were out of earshot, Lizzie couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into laughter. There were a lot of things she would have expected from Skye but snogging her arch nemesis? The thought made Lizzie laugh even harder; she had to double over making Orion shake his head when she couldn’t stop. He couldn’t hide the grin on his own face, however.

Lizzie’s laughter being contagious, it quickly turned into a chuckle and then into a laugh of his own. The charged atmosphere between them had evaporated completely and made way for the same relaxed mood Lizzie was used to from Orion’s company. She half regretted losing the moment they’d had earlier, but was also half glad to tread on familiar ground again.

When she still couldn’t stop snickering, though, Orion put his hand on her back. He had regained his composure, but Lizzie could see how he was fighting to not start laughing again.

“You need to calm down,” he told her with laughter still ringing in his voice. Lizzie really tried, taking a deep and deliberate breath, but she was so far gone now that the mere thought of having to stop send her into a fit of giggles yet again; it was all too much for her, their almost-kiss, Skye and Rath of all people and the whole situation in itself were making Lizzie hysterically giddy.

Sensing words alone wouldn’t help, Orion lightly laid a finger on her lips.

“Hush now,” he said softly, “calm down.”

His gentle touch broke her out of her state immediately. The fluttery feeling spreading through her body was so intense it was close to overwhelming and she could feel her heart skip a beat.

It didn’t help much in the way of calming her down, but Lizzie had stopped laughing in any case. Her lips curved into a smile again - this time directed at Orion - and she rested her cheek against his chest as he pulled her closer.

Lizzie could feel the smooth pendant of his necklace against her skin and took another deep breath to calm her tingling nerves, the by now so familiar scent of ginger, patchouli and cilantro enveloping her. It transported her straight back to another night, up on the highest point of the castle, overlooking the Black Lake gleaming in the silver light of the moon. The same cool night air touching her skin had made her shudder back then the same as it did now, a stark contrast to the warmth of Orion’s arms around her.

At the memory of what had happened that night, all the tension between them was back. Lizzie lifted her head away from Orion’s chest and raised her eyes. She was surprised to see the flicker of uncertainty crossing Orion’s face; she wondered for a second if her otherwise so confident captain was just as uncertain about what to do as she was.

Lizzie knew he wouldn’t draw back if she simply stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. She contemplated doing it; no use pretending this wasn’t what she had forbidden herself to dream of ever since she had let him go. But yet, a shred of doubt remained, the tiniest hint of fear that something could go wrong and she might mess things up again.

Lizzie didn’t even know what she was so nervous about; after all, it wasn’t liked they hadn’t kissed before. But deep down, she could feel there was more to this moment. It wasn’t merely about a kiss, it was about something greater than that, the way things should have been from the beginning.

Before her emotions had the chance to overwhelm her, her eyes dropped from his face and she bit her lip. Her eyes wandering over their surroundings, she spotted a huge, old tree trunk lying on its side close to the shoreline; it was a popular place to lounge by the water during the day. To mask her blushing face, Lizzie broke free from Orion with a nervous laugh and walked over to it.

“What are you doing?” Orion wanted to know as he followed her; Lizzie could have sworn to hear the same mixture of frustration and relief in his voice that she was experiencing herself.

Feeling more secure in herself again, she flashed him a cheeky smile across her shoulder before hopping onto the fallen tree.

“Balancing,” she grinned down at him; standing on top of the tree, she was now almost a head taller than him.

He shook his head. “You really are one of a kind, Chaser.”

Lizzie extended her arms and balanced along the length of the tree, trying not to look back at him. She couldn’t help but curse herself inwardly for her cowardice; she had positively fled from Orion’s touch, but now she was thoroughly regretting giving in to her momentary panic. She was acting like a child; what was wrong with her?

Caught in her silent argument with herself, Lizzie didn’t watch where she was stepping. Her breath hitched as her foot slipped on the damp wood.

Out of reflex, Orion had extended his hand. “Be careful!”

Lizzie had already regained her balance, however. She stopped walking and looked at him with her eyebrows raised, a teasing smile playing about her lips.

“Do you worry about me falling?”

“One time per day is enough, don’t you think,” he answered with a soft smirk. He placed his hands on her hips to steady her. Lizzie put her hands on his shoulders to support her weight as she leaned slightly forward; standing on the log, she had to look down on him for a change.

“It is,” she agreed, her smile growing wider as her eyes found his. “But once again, you’re here to catch me.” She brushed Orion’s hair out of his face, raking her fingers through his dark curls.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. Lizzie’s hand came to rest at the base of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair as he opened his eyes again.

“I’ll always be there to catch you.”

All of their surroundings, the sound of the water, the chirping of the crickets, even the cool air of the night seemed to fade into the background; Lizzie tried in vain not to drown in Orion’s deep, dark eyes as he pulled her closer.

Brushing all of her flaring nerves aside, Lizzie’s eyes fluttered close as she bent down and carefully, ever so gently, placed a kiss upon his lips. She felt him smile against her mouth as he kissed her back; her heart was close to bursting from the rush of adrenaline washing over her. She could feel the slight pressure of his hands on her hips as he supported her weight. His scent that she loved so much enveloped her, making her head spin and her knees weak. Finally being able to kiss him again felt like reaching the end of an endless journey, the finish line always in sight, yet just out of reach.

His grip on her hips tightened and Lizzie laughed against his lips as Orion lifted her off the tree trunk as if she weighed nothing, spun her around once and set her down onto the grass, all without breaking their kiss. She felt drunk on him and his touch, as if she was flying again, just like she had felt in his arms back on the Quidditch pitch.

When they eventually had to break apart for air and their eyes met again, Lizzie’s mouth curved into the softest smile; her hand went to his face and cupped his cheek, the rough stubble of his beard scratching her palm ever so slightly. He leaned into her touch for a moment; his eyes were closed and Lizzie could tell by the smile on his lips how much he was savouring her touch. After a moment, he opened them again and leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes not leaving hers even for a second.

“I missed you.”

His barely audible confession sent a new set of shivers running up and down her spine.

“I missed you, too,” she whispered back, just in time before he kissed her again, his hands now leaving her hips and pulling her into his arms completely.

Lizzie let herself fall into his touch, forgetting everything around her. She couldn’t believe this was real, this was really happening; and what was more, she didn’t have to feel guilty anymore. The immense relief that was mixing with her happiness was so strong, it brought tears into her eyes.

Sensing her shift in mood, Orion broke away from her, his eyes flickering over her face with worry.

“What’s the matter?”

Lizzie shook her head silently, not wanting to ruin the moment by crying. “Do you know how good it feels to not have to hide anymore?” she whispered and buried her face against his chest out of fear of getting overwhelmed by her emotions.

Orion gave her that moment to herself, cradling her head and stroking her hair until she felt her emotions calm down again. Where she would have felt embarrassed before, now she was thankful Orion understood; come to think of it, he always had.

“Come on,” he took her by the hand and led her past the old tree to another big willow up ahead. Lizzie recognised it immediately; it was the same place she and Skye had watched Orion doing yoga a week ago; it felt like an entire lifetime had passed since then. She knew it was one of his favourite places to spend his time and smiled to herself that he was willing to share yet another spot so close to his heart with her.

They walked to the shore and sat down into the grass. Lizzie winced when she felt the cold seep into her as she put her palms onto the dewy ground. Orion didn’t seem to mind in the slightest; he had already laid down onto his back, one of his arms behind his head and was watching the starry sky above them. Hesitating for a moment, Lizzie sighed inwardly and joined him, trying to ignore the reluctance she felt at the cold grass under her back. Orion pulled her over to him so she could rest her head against his shoulder, the ends of his hair tickling her face.

Even despite the cold entering her body from where it connected with the ground, Lizzie relaxed and enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. The stars above them were crystal clear; maybe not looking as close as on top of the Astronomy Tower, but the sky seemed to be wider out here, like an ocean of inky darkness and sparkling stars. She could see all the different constellations, her eyes tracing the familiar patterns as they wandered over the canopy above them.

Orion was twisting the ends of her ponytail around his fingers and watching her smile to herself. “Care to enlighten me as to what is making you smile?”

Lizzie chuckled. “I just thought that now I don’t have to pretend to not know my stars anymore.”

Orion hummed in response. “You never had to in the first place.”

They fell silent again, just taking in the night sky and enjoying each other’s company. Lizzie could feel Orion’s heart beat inside his chest and placed her hand on the corresponding spot, prompting him to press a kiss against her hair.

However, as she let her mind wander, there was one thought that kept coming back to her over and over again. The picture of her best friend being pinned between a tree and what Lizzie had always assumed was the person she liked least in the whole school kept popping up in front of her inner eye. She couldn’t help but start laughing again.

“I still refuse to believe it,” she chuckled, the sound of her voice seeming unnaturally loud in between the soft noises of the night around them. “Skye and Rath, of all people! I never even saw that coming.”

Lizzie could hear the smile in Orion’s voice even without looking at him. “It’s the most natural thing for any force in this world to strive for balance.” Lizzie could feel the tips of his fingers lightly stroking her hair as he continued. “If I have learned one thing this year, it’s that opposites do attract each other.”

When he saw that Lizzie was still grinning at the thought, he chuckled silently. “You’ll never let Skye hear the end of it, right?”

She had to laugh at his words. “You know me.”

Orion hummed in response. “Despite everything, I like to believe that I do.” Lizzie felt him shift his position as he propped himself up on his elbows. “But still, there is grace in not pursuing someone’s weakness when it is exposed to us; try to have mercy on her.”

Lizzie’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked up at him. “Is that an order, Captain?”

His serene expression changed, a playful grin forming on his face. “Asking your team captain? Yes. Asking just me? Absolutely not.”

Lizzie sat up into a sitting position. “I’m very glad to hear that,” she chuckled. “I mean, we’re talking about Rath! Erika Skye-cannot-get-a-grip-when-she’s-around Rath. In a thousand years I wouldn’t have seen that coming; I am shaken!”

“So much is apparent.”

“Aren’t you surprised at all?”

Orion shrugged. “If you try to master the art of accepting anything the universe bestows on you, you are seldomly surprised.” Upon seeing Lizzie’s sceptical look he added, “But maybe a little bit.”

Lizzie tilted her head to the side. “Nothing ever seems to really shake you, does it?”

Orion’s eyes dropped from her face and wandered over the lake lying peacefully in front of them. His brow furrowed as he contemplated her question.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he answered quietly after a moment. “You getting hit by that Bludger today did shake me to the core.” He ran his hand through his hair, distress flickering over his face at the memory. “Seeing you hanging on the side of that tower completely threw me off course for a moment.”

He had sat up as well, pulling Lizzie against him so she could rest her head against his chest once more. He still didn’t look her in the eyes when he continued, but he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “That’s what you’ve been doing for the whole year, to be honest; throwing me off balance. No one makes it harder for me to focus than you.”

His words were spoken so softly and with such open vulnerability ringing behind them, it took Lizzie’s breath away. Feeling her own emotions well up inside her, she snuggled closer to him, the beat of his heart grounding her again.

She smiled to herself as she looked at their joined hands. “It’s been a strange year for sure.”

Orion laughed. “I told you the fifth year is a singular experience, remember?”

“And right you were.” Her smile was fading as she continued. “I’m sorry for all the bad decisions I’ve made this year. All the pain I caused…” She sighed. “ I made a lot of mistakes.”

“Don’t be,” he told her with a slight shaking of his head. He let go of her hand again, placing his hand on her cheek once more, his thumb gently brushing over the corner of her mouth. “Every step that we’re taking and every decision we’re making lead us to where we need to be. Everything you did this year has brought you to this moment right here, hasn’t it?” His eyes were swimming with emotions as he took in every inch of her face. “I wouldn’t want to change that for anything.”

He tilted his head and pulled her closer as he kissed her again, making the butterflies in Lizzie’s stomach swarm all over again. She reached up to place her hand on his neck, but when her fingers touched his warm skin, she felt his shoulders tense.

“Your hands are icy,” he murmured against her lips.

Lizzie instantly drew back and felt herself blushing; even though she had been leaning against Orion for most of the time, she had started to grow colder by the minute.

Orion took one of her hands between his, the contrast between his warm skin and her cold one making her shiver. “You should have said something,” he muttered.

“I’m fine,” Lizzie reassured him, a smile stealing onto her face as Orion placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “I just don’t want this moment to end; I wish it was forever.”

“In some ways, every moment is forever,” Orion smiled back at her before kissing her forehead. “You just need to hold on to what is dear to you.”

Leaning into his touch, Lizzie closed her eyes, trying to memorise the sounds of the lake and the woods surrounding them, the scent of Orion’s hair and the feeling of his fingers absentmindedly brushing over her spine. It was true; she wished she could hold onto this moment and never let it go again.

Lost in her thoughts, she traced her fingers over one of the small woven bracelets Orion was wearing around his wrist, her eyes following the intricate pattern of the soft leather strands.

“What’s going to happen now?” she asked quietly, deliberately leaving her question open to his interpretation.

“Whatever you want to happen,” Orion answered with a sincere smile. He caught her icy fingers that were still playing with his bracelet and pulled her up from the damp grass as he stood up.

“But for now, I suggest we go back and get you near the fire.”

Lizzie felt a touch of sadness at the thought of leaving their place underneath the stars; it was like waking up from a dream to return to the real world. But by now, despite her best efforts, her teeth had started chattering from the cold, the exhaustion of the day and slowly coming down from the continuous adrenaline high she had been on since she had set foot onto the Quidditch pitch. She was glad for Orion’s arm around her shoulders as they were walking back to where they had come from.

When the light of the bonfire and the unmistakable voice of their victory party came in sight again, Lizzie slowed her steps until she came to a halt. Orion turned his head and looked at her questioningly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lizzie mumbled, trying to put her feelings into words. “Everything just feels so surreal all of a sudden.”

Orion hummed in response. “Do you want me to let go?”

“No,” Lizzie reassured him hurriedly, “please don’t.”

She reached for his hand still lying on her shoulder to make sure it stayed right where it was. “This is what I want.”

He turned to her and raised her chin with his hand as his eyes found hers. “That’s fortunate, because no matter what the universe has planned for us, I don’t intend to let you go anytime soon.”

Lizzie smiled as she felt his lips brushing against the corners of her mouth before he pulled her into his arms and held her close. A sense of overwhelming happiness took hold of her as she buried her face against his chest.

They smiled at each other one last time before Lizzie reached for Orion’s hand and pulled him back to where she could already see their friends celebrating up ahead.

This was how it should have been all along.

She knew this was exactly what she wanted, what she had wanted for so long she still couldn’t quite believe that Orion was now here by her side.

He was right; regretting what was in the past was futile when every step along the way had led them to this point, this moment, her hand resting in his as they stepped out of the darkness into the light.

Everything about this felt right.

It was perfect.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #lizzie jameson #aob #art of balance #the quidditch squad #thank god finally #we're there #what a fluff monster #now on to the epilogue before I start crying

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 15

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 3184

Warnings: Smut, (MF and MMF. Oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, squirting)

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man. When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood. While others expect Thor to make things more official. What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: written with my firstborn @fanficwriter013

Chapter 15: Fenestare

When Thor and I came back into the living room after putting the twins down for a nap, Loki was waiting for us. Thor looked him over and furrowed his brow. “I did not expect you to be back so soon.”

“I have been busy,” Loki replied sounding bored.

Thor went and sat beside him and I sat beside Thor. “What did you discover?” Thor asked.

“Your council appears to be trying to stage a coup,” Loki explained. “Might I suggest calling for a Fenestare?”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It is a battle to the death,” Thor said.

It felt like my stomach flipped over and something cold gripped my heart. “Oh,” I said.

“It proves his worth as both ruler and warrior,” Loki explained. “It would quash the naysayers.”

“Right,” I said. I didn’t want to tell him no, I forbid it. I just… the idea of it was horrible. I didn’t want him to have to risk his life. What if he didn’t win? What if he did and that’s the legacy we were walking into? If someone questions you, you murder them?

“Are there other options, brother?” Thor asked.

“Not especially,” he said. “None that would work.”

I started twisting my hands together and Thor slipped his between mine and held them. “Who would I be challenging?”

“Elder Vasnor,” Loki said. “He is the one that is leading this campaign about the lost son and heir. He is the most against you having halfling children too. If you take him out the others will follow.”

I frowned and looked down at Thor’s hand. “What are the chances you will win?”

“Against Vasnor and with the rules of a Fenestare?” Thor mused. “I’d say about 70 percent.”

I let out a breath and raised my eyes to his. “I don’t… I don’t want to get in the way of your customs. But is this what you want to model to your children?”

“I don’t want them there,” Thor said, sadly. “But Elise, I’m not seeing any other option.”

I frowned and nodded and he pulled me close to him. I buried my face in his chest as he rubbed my back. “They never wanted me to rule, they want me to do this. They expect me to lose.”

“This was inevitable, Elise. I had to perform a Fenestare within a week of my rule.” Loki said.

“You do not have to attend,” Thor said, gently.

I nodded again. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

Thor looked up at Loki but continued to stroke my back soothingly. “We should arrange for this as soon as possible.”

“What happens if you lose?” I asked, looking up at Thor.

“At the risk of sounding like a loving brother,” Loki answered. “He will not.”

I chuckled at Loki’s need to seem aloof. “Okay… But… what if?”

“Then my niece and nephew are without their father and counsel will gain rule of Asgard. Whoever they seem to think is Aldrif will gain rule.” Loki explained. “It would not be safe for any of you here, I would smuggle you out. I’m sure Heimdal will help.”

I nodded. I really felt like I was going to throw up all over both of them. I took a deep breath and focused on the beat of Thor’s heart. It was slower than most people’s. A slow and steady thud-thud.

“I’d make sure they were provided for,” Thor added.

I swallowed and nodded again. Now the urge to cry was building in me too.

“My queen,” Thor said, gently.

“Sorry. You… Just worry about what you need to worry about. I’ll be okay.” I said.

“No, Elise,” Thor said. “I need to worry about you too. I love you and you are the mother of my children. I can feel your tension.”

I pulled back from him. “Because I don’t like anything about this, Thor. But your ways aren’t mine. I don’t get to tell you how to do this.”

He sighed. “I do not like them either. But I cannot change them.” He said. “If they are so against me for these petty reasons, I will have to shed blood. But I would like you to support me. Not the deed. But I need you to be okay with who I am.”

I cradled his jaw and looked into his eyes. “I’m just scared. Of losing you. Of what this means in general. But I will always be yours.”

“I will not lose.” He said.

I melted against his chest and he pulled me tight against him. “Thank you, brother. You are dismissed.”

“Uh-huh,” Loki said getting up. “Do not wake the babes with your deeds.” He said and swept out of the room.

Thor ran his hands down my back and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “What do you need?” He asked.

“I want to take care of you, Thor,” I said. “You are so stressed.”

“I will be okay,” Thor said.

I kissed his neck. “I know that. Let me in, please.”

He seemed to sag a little and I sat back and looked at him running my fingers along his scalp. “I love you, Thor. Let me take care of you for a change.”

He nodded and I kissed him. His arms enclosed around me and he pulled me into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my hands down his neck, kneading out his tension on the exposed parts of his flesh. His hands opened and closed on my back before fisting the fabric of my dress. I slowly kissed along his jaw and down his neck and he let his head fall back with a soft sigh.

His cock began to harden in his pants and pressed against me. When I said I wanted to take care of him, I really had meant anything he needed. A massage. A hot bath. Just to be held so he could feel fragile and loved. If it was sex, then that was okay too.

I slipped off his lap between his legs and worked his leather pants open. Once free of it’s restricting bindings, his cock jumped up hard against his stomach. I swirled my tongue up his shaft and licked over the head as I looked up at him. He seemed to relax more just from this starting touches. His head was rolled back and his lips were parted as let out a soft sigh.

I pulled his foreskin back and sucked on the head and he groaned. His hands went to my hair and bunched it in his fists. I lowered my head down, opening my throat as much as I could to take him. He moaned and started guiding me. Pushing my head up and down on his cock as he gently rolled his hips.

I curled my tongue and flicked it over the slit of his cock, moaning as he pulled my hair to guide me. His breath became shallow and his chest rose and fell quickly the more I sucked and the deeper I took him.

I adjusted my position a little and dropped my head right down, deep throating him, so my breath was cut off and I gagged. He grunted and his hips jerked at little pushing him in even deeper. I pulled off coughing and began to jerk him off as I sucked on his balls and licked his perineum.

He grunted a precome leaked down his length. I licked it up and swirled my tongue over his head. “El,” Thor rumbled. “Come here.”

I hitched up my skirts and climbed into his lap, rocking my clothed pussy on his cock. He placed his hand on my cheek and pulled me into a deep kiss. I hummed into his lips and rolled my hips. My panties began to soak through and his cock smeared precum over them. He slipped his free hand under my dress and pushed them to the side, before guiding himself into me.

“Oh god,” I groaned as my cunt stretched to accommodate him. He hummed and kissed down my neck, sucking and swirling his tongue over my skin.

I started to roll my hips and clench my walls around his cock. He yanked the fabric on my bust down and started to suckle on my breasts, moaning into them. Pleasure swirled through me, pressing down on me and making my skin prickle. When he started to fuck up into me I completely fell apart.

I came, my cunt clenching and my head falling back. He grunted and with a hard snap of his hips, he came inside me.

I relaxed down on him, resting my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat as I felt his cock pulsing inside me as he released. Thor hummed and pressed his lips to the top of my head. “Thank you, my love.” He whispered.

“Can I do anything else for you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Let’s just relax and wait for the others to return. It will be nice not having anything pressing to worry about.”

I slipped off him and we straightened ourselves out before cuddling into each other. It wasn’t long before the others showed up. Both Steve and Hogun looked a little battered, but Steve was still holding himself like a bundle of stress attached to a skeleton.

“Hey, boys. You not feeling any better, Steve?” I asked.

“You smell like sex,” Tony said, flopping down almost on top of me.

“There’s a solid reason for that.” I teased.

“Rude,” Tony said tugging at the fabric of my dress.

“You want some? I could go again.”

He chuckled and kissed my cheek. “You and your sex drive. Like you’d put on a show for Hogun.”

“Hey, I might. You don’t know me.” I joked.

“Oh, sorry. Hogun, would you like to watch?” Tony said playing along.

“I am not opposed to such a thing, but I feel like the queen might have been attempting a joke,” Hogun said.

“Feels like you deserve a treat after Steve smashed your face though,” Tony said.

Hogun rubbed his jaw and moved it side to side. “I feel like watching sex happen without participating might be considered more of a winners gloat than a reward.”

“Hmm,” Tony mused. “Right. Sorry. You wanna just go into the closet with me?”

Hogun tilted his head to the side and his eyes ran up and down Tony. It was like he was trying to work out if Tony was serious or not, and if he was if that was something Hogun wanted too. I wasn’t quite sure if Tony was either, to be honest. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. On one hand, Tony was known for casual sex. Only, he’d never actually had any since I met him. In fact, he didn’t technically have sex with all the people in our little family.

“Do you think you can handle it?” Hogun asked.

“Honey, I’m the experienced one of the group,” Tony said playfully.

“You’ve been with Thor?”

“Yes,” Tony said.

“Then yes, I would take you up on that offer,” Hogun said, with a curt nod.

Tony turned and smirked at me. “See, Elise. I’m pretty.” He then stopped and looked back at Hogun and then at me again like he’d been caught in headlights. “Wait. How did we get here?”

“Because you want to give Hogun a consolation prize of that sweet ass?” I asked.

He smiled and shrugged. “Well, you know? Once a Playboy, always a Playboy.” The smile slipped and he tapped his hand on my thigh. “Is this okay?”

“This is an open relationship, honey. But when was the last time you had casual sex? Before Pepper?” I asked, taking his hand.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time.” He agreed.

“Do you want to?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think so.”

I gave his hand a squeeze. “If you want to take a step back into the casual sex pool, then I could think of worse people to do it with than one of Thor’s best friends. You know it’s not going to get you in any trouble. Besides, in the closet with all of us out here, that would hit some pretty big kinks for you.” I said. “But just, be aware that this is your first time back. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I can guarantee you’ll come out satisfied,” Hogun added.

“I just don’t want to hurt you.” He said.

“Asking my permission?” I teased.

“Yes,” he answered seriously. “Elise?”

I leaned in and kissed him gently. “You have it. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said, and the smirk returned to his face as he looked back up to Hogun. “Guess we’re doing this.”

Hogun approached us and pulled Tony to his feet. He grabbed Tony by the back of the neck and kissed him hard as he pushed him back into the closet. There was a loud bang as the door slammed shut and then a thud and a faint oof sound. I broke down into giggles.

“Well, then,” Steve said coming to sit next to me.

“Did you and Hogun sparring with each other get them both a little worked up?” I asked.

“They were exchanging eyes all afternoon,” Steve said. “Even if one of the eyes was swollen with blood dripping on the ground.”

“That’s new, isn’t it?” I asked. “He’s really just back in the game. Remember when I met him and he was totally celibate?”

“Yeah,” Steve said and looked over to the closet.

“Your kids were learning to ride a horse for a little while today,” I said.

His head snapped back to me. “They were what? Without me?” Steve asked.

“You were beating up Hogun,” I said.

“But they’re my kids.” He said. “I don’t want to miss out on firsts like that.”

“I didn’t know the pony thing would be such a big issue,” I said. “But you can’t blame us for the fact that you decided to go and fight someone and you missed out on the kids doing something new. Might need to figure out where your priorities are.”

Steve frowned. “You’re right. Sorry.” He said. “I’m still feeling really stressed out. Maybe Tony has a better way of dealing with that.”

I chuckled and ran my hand up his thigh. “We can probably help you with that.”

“Why don’t the three of us get into the tub. The children will be out for a while.” Thor said.

“That sounds good,” I said.

“Volstagg!” Thor called.

Volstagg stepped in from outside. “You called?”

“We are just going to bathe. Guard the children’s door.” Thor said.

Volstagg nodded and moved to their door and Thor, Steve, and I made our way to the bathroom. There were bathroom attendants waiting and they helped us undress and began to clean us. Steve looked slightly uncomfortable as one woman tried to apply oil to his skin.

“Leave us, please,” Thor said to the attendants.

They nodded and put the oils and sponges down at the edge of the large tub, and Thor waded over to Steve and began to massage the oil into him. I joined him and we both took our time massaging it into his skin. He gradually began to relax and as the tension in his muscles let go, his blood flowed to his cock, and it began to harden.

Thor wrapped his hand around it and began to jerk him off slowly, adding a more guttural needy moan to the ones he’d been making already.

Thor put his hands on my waist and lifted me up putting me on the side of the tub. I squeaked and looked at him. “What are you doing?”

“I thought maybe Steve might like to taste you,” Thor said. “Would you like that, beloved?”

Steve hummed and nodded moving between my legs he ghosted his lips up the inside of my thigh and nuzzled at my cunt as I carded my fingers through his hair.

Thor moved behind him and using the oil he began to finger his ass, teasing his ring muscle loose to take him. Steve ran his tongue up my cunt and pushed it inside me, swirling it around.

“Can you taste me on her,” Thor growled against Steve’s ear.

Steve hummed and nodded his head as he began to focus his tongue on my clit. He drew little random patterns on it. Sometimes firm, and sometimes soft. It sent tendrils of pleasure slowly creeping through me. My skin prickled softly and I closed my eyes and just let myself feel it. Thor slowly and methodically worked his fingers in Steve’s ass until soon he was moaning with me, adding a little buzz to what he was doing.

Steve grunted and gripped my thighs and I opened my eyes to see Thor thrusting into Steve. I ran my fingers through Steve’s hair and leaned down and kissed him. I could taste myself on his lips and he made a deep contented rumble as I moved my mouth with his.

“Come now, my love. Make the Lady Elly feel the way you do.” Thor cooed.

Steve pulled back and his mouth returned to my pussy. He added his hand, teasing at my entrance with his fingers before thrusting them into me.

We became three people connected. Thor reached over and wrapped his hand around my forearm as he thrust deep into Steve and Steve keep sucking and biting at my clit as he fucked me with his fingers.

Our voices echoed off the bathroom walls. They amplified it, made us sound almost ethereal as we moaned and cried out.

Steve’s fingers pressed and dragged over my g-spot again and again until I couldn’t even sit up anymore. I just lay back on the marble floor and writhed in pleasure. Grabbing my breasts and squeezing them to add to it. I bucked up under him and arched my back. He added a third finger, stretching me more and he twisted his wrist, corkscrewing his hand so his knuckles dug into that sweet spot inside me. I cried out loudly and squirted, gushing on him before blacking out for a second.

It was only a second and when I came too, feeling completely high on endorphins and soft at the edges, Thor and Steve both smirked at me. “That was something else, El.” Steve teased.

“You were stunning, my queen,” Thor added.

They helped me back into the bath to clean up. They must have came as I did, though I had been completely unaware of it. We quickly cleaned up and hopped out, wrapping ourselves in the thick fluffy towels. “Come,” Thor said scooping me into his arms. “I feel that we should try and nap too while the children do.”

I hummed and looked over at Steve. “You feel more relaxed now?” I asked

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that definitely did the job.”

// NEXT

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adcres · 4 years

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howdy hey , pardnerrrs :> i’m rox ( she / her ) ‘n i’ll be playing yr residential sullen broodin’ boy , nico . i didn’t have the time to write out a whole new intro , given that i have back to back classes again today :-’( , so please forgive me for recycling his old intro akawodkgrsd ; . that being said , i did tweak around some tingz and i updated his wcs for him , so if yr down to clown around just hmu on my discord : 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔫𝔦𝔞#2854 ! okie okie , i’ll shut da eff up now ♡

BASICS.

༉‧₊˚✧ kim taehyung , cis man , he / him / his — did you see that nicholas “nico” yoon was trending last night ? the twenty three year old street artist has been getting a lot of press lately . i think it’s due to them being so + quixotic & + free-spirited , but i always thought they seemed - withdrawn & - sybaritic . their fans always say they remind them of soft smoke rings spun in a dreamy haze , silver-ringed fingers rapping against polished oak , and waning light refracting against broken glass though . i wonder if they’ve found out about REDACTED yet … i guess we’ll have to wait and see . [ rox , 22 , pst , she / her , none ]

PINTEREST & PLAYLIST .

01 and 02 .

PERSONALITY .

at first glance , nico reads as this aloof , arrogant type that doesn’t like to associate w the common public . always keeping the majority of people at a comfortable distance , nico moves almost exclusively within his own social network , and doesn’t like to deviate from what he knows best .

not so much pretentious as he is lazy , making an effort to socialize with complete strangers is simply something that nico would never do . hehe ... he’s kind of shy like that .... ♡ though he’d literally never admit it ♡

despite giving the impression that he’s some intimidating and chronically indifferent kind of guy , nico is genuinely a sweet boy — ‏‏‎ one who’s in a constant state of confusion as to why people seem to be so scared of him . it always comes as a shock when close friends of his admit that they thought he absolutely hated their guts when they first met him .

b/c tho he’s p smart , nico is very oblivious at times , and he’s 100% the kind of guy who’ll walk away from a conversation thinking he did a rly rly good job trying to make a friend ... when in reality he prob said four words in the span of thirty minutes smh .

overall , nico’s a private person , especially with what he’s thinking ... and it’s really hard to get a clear read on what’s on his mind . sharing his feelings has never been one of nico’s interests b/c he just genuinely doesn’t think whatever he has to say is rly worth mentioning . so he usually just shuts da fuck up n lets other ppl talk so he can mentally gain the strength to continue socializing .

push nico’s buttons enough tho ‘n you’ll catch this mf speaking in full sentences .

lastly , it should b noted that nico is a romantic through n through ... this mf probably d*ed in the victorian era ‘n got reincarnated b/c he’s got that ‘ lets share furtive glances across the room but never say a thing to each other ‘ thing on lock . mr. darcy headass

and while nico might play the role of long-suffering , ever pining lover to a T , he’s more in love w / the idea of love than he is w / any single person . and he literally cannot hold down a relationship w/o fucking it up for himself in some shape or form .

kind of sarcastic ... v much the teasing type ....

can b very impulsive at times , loves to go on solo adventures at night , prefers his own company tbh ...

overview : melancholic , reticent , noncommittal , humble , mild-mannered , romantic .

a mix of : josh from clueless and j.d. from heathers

more here .

MORE AESTHETICS.

the chill of silver jewelry against flushed skin , forgotten graffiti on porcelain sinks , flickering motel lights , kisses sticky with vodka , eyes ringed with lavender , sleepless nights surrendered to the dull buzz of television , obscure art house films , sun-kissed cheeks , the surprise of summer rain , chest aching with lost loves , scattered baby’s breath and rosemary , and a shared smile between perfect strangers .

CHARACTER DISSERTATION.

nico was born on a brisk wintry morning in the fashion district of los angeles ( january 21st , 1997 ) to a family of six .

as the second youngest child , and the only male son to boot , nico grew up with his only inheritance being a generational kind of hunger , one that demanded for more than what his struggling parents could offer

the arts stole nico at an early age ... ushering him into a world of creation and freedom beyond the four bleak walls he daily occupied . from spending lonely summers tucked away in some forgotten corner in the library to practicing on a borrowed violin from dawn to dusk , nico knew that even with nothing at his disposal , there was always something to be made w/ the tools he’d been given

despite not having the money for private tutors to hone their son’s growing artistic talents , his parents did whatever they could to support his dreams , whether that meant working double shifts back to back or scrounging for loose change underneath the sofa cushions to pay for whatever materials nico needed .

it was in this strange way that nico grew up p spoiled . somehow having nothing while also having absolutely everything at the same time .

very much a family man , the first big purchase nico made once he broke out in hollywood was a house in beverly hills for his parents . now that he’s finally at a place where he can take care of his family , nico makes sure that his parents and sisters want for nothing

while he showers everyone else with generous gifts and obscene amounts of money , nico doesn’t particularly feel comfortable doing the same for himself . he’s a simple man through n through . one who’s content to spend his time walking his dog late at night , listening to a podcast on his airpods , instead of going out to a club w/ other well-known socialites .

a true artist at heart , nico refuses to conform to the current trends of hollywood , instead insisting on wearing thrifted clothes to important galas — ‏‏‎much to the frustration of his PR team and the chagrin of his stylists . but none of the choices nico makes seems to surprise anyone anymore . driving flashy cars and wearing designer clothes has never really been his style , after all . and it’s important to him that he remain authentically himself despite everything .

WANTED CONNECTS.

pr relationship ( open ) : someone that nico is contractually obligated to date ... i could totally see there being drama ‘n tension from having to pretend to actually like each other ... would b better if they rly did not like each other at all ...

fwb ( open ) : buddies who bump uglies sometimes ... they both agreed they’d never catch feelings for each other but we’ll see ...

frenemies ( open ) : someone that grinds nico’s gears but they’re a friend of his friend ... so they’re forced to keep it civil . i can see them exchanging hateful comments in the back of their friend’s car while simultaneously posting pics of each other on ig to keep up the rouse .

unrequited crush ( open ) : likely nico would not realize if yr muse had a crush on them ... but it’d be fun to play it out like a kdrama anyway heh heh

a close friend group ( open / any ) : i thought it’d b so cute if there was like a small group of friends , maybe 3-4 ppl , that do stupid shit like ditch going to celebrity after-parties to break into abandoned buildings , get real high , ask stupid ‘ would u rather ‘ questions , and do sum main character type shit ... yk what im puttin down ... ‘n nico is def the type to open up in the presence of extroverts so i think having a group of wild outsiders of diff bgs would b v inch resting ..

enemies / rivals ( open / any ) : tbh nico prob rubs ppl the wrong way since he has resting bitch face ‘n never wants to talk to anyone .. so im sure there r ppl who just do not like this mf ... and rest assured that the feeling is mutual ...

bad / good influence ( open / any ) : nico’s known to mount his high horse often ... mr morality over here ... so i just know he prob would butt heads w/ the residential troublemaker . tho nico’s artwork can be controversial and out of the box at times , his art style and his personality are at constant odds , and it’d b interesting to have that bad influence / good influence dynamic w/ someone .

family friend ( open ) : someone who grew up w/ nico in dtla ... couldve gone to the same public school as him ... or their families couldve gone to the same church ...

ok my intro post has become a fucking behemoth so im going to stop here ‘n just say i have so many more wcs in mind so if u wanna plot lets just talk hehe :>

#lavish.intro #okie gotta blast i have class in 5 min

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fmsaint · 4 years

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greetings loved ones ... my name is dani or dab or d or wtvr u would like to call me , i’m twenty , kickin it in pst , and i prefer she/they pronouns ! i’m so excited to start writing w all of u :’) . i could probably continue rambling on about myself for days because i don’t know when to shut up BUT i will spare u that and move on to rambling about my boy , saint , instead . pls enjoy this mess of an introduction , and if anything piques ur interest enough to bless me with a plot , pls smash that mf like button so i can come bother u 🙏

do my eyes deceive me , or did i just see SAINT SILVEIRA getting out of the car in hunnington ? i guess HE’S living around ROCK SPRINGS , which i could’ve guessed . hopefully they can keep their FACETIOUS & STUBBORN shit to themselves , and focus on being CHARMING & FREEWHEELING to avoid any problems .

FULL NAME : saint stefano silveira

AGE : twenty - two

GENDER + PRONOUNS : cis male + he / him

ORIENTATION : bisexual / biromantic

ZODIAC : scorpio sun , leo rising , capricorn moon

BIRTHDAY : november 13th , 1998

LOVE LANGUAGE : physical touch

OCCUPATION(S) : professional pain in the ass

DRINKING / DRUGS / SMOKING : yes / yes / yes

TRAITS : stubborn , hotheaded , dramatic , standoffish , brash , facetious , distant , provocative , inconsistent , unpredictable , charming , hypocritical , protective , freewheeling , confident , persuasive , untrustworthy , secretive , reticent , eloquent , loyal .

the story begins in hunnington beach , north carolina , when a move - in semi - truck came peeling down the streets of rock springs . saint was eleven when he moved here , and as far as he’s concerned , that was when real life finally started .

nobody really knows anything about saint’s past --- just that he moved to nc at a young age with his uncle guilio . it was only the two of them in a giant , empty house .

even as a child , he was rather standoffish and reticent . you’d ask him where he was from and all you’d get was a blank stare . over time , he started learning to just lie to get people off his back , but the stories never lined up . he didn’t want them too ; he didn’t care . depending on the day , he’d tell you he’s from los angeles , from new york , from toronto , from chicago , from atlanta , from vancouver , from san diego ... and it’d change if you asked him again .

the only insight that the town ever got of saint’s life was the day before his eighteenth birthday , when the loud sound of sirens and the flashing lights of police cars filled the usually - quiet gated community . uncle guilio was seen being escorted out of the house in handcuffs , and saint was nowhere to be found ... until a week later , when he popped back up as if nothing had happened at all . nobody ever knew why guilio was arrested , or where saint had been , or how he’d come back untouched . the only person that knew was saint himself , and people knew better than to trust his word . it’s something that everybody knows about , but nobody really knows about , if that makes any sense . rumors about the entire thing were the talk of the town for weeks .

how saint manages to keep such a gigantic and well - maintained house is unknown . he doesn’t have any sort of job ; he doesn’t have anybody else living with him anymore . everything about him is a mystery . you think you have him figured out , but then you don’t .

it doesn’t make him an outcast though . the fact that he’s an enigma is part of his charm . people see him , they want to get to know him , and he’ll let them believe that they’re getting some insight , when they’re really not getting anything . incredibly skilled at making you feel like you know him on a deeper level , when in reality , you’ve barely scratched the surface .

he’s not a malicious person either . he’s more standoffish than anything else . definitely has a sour attitude , but won’t purposely hurt someone just for the sake of hurting them . now would he annoy someone for the sake of getting on their nerves ? absolutely .

very much a free spirit . it’s evident now that he’s trying to let go of his past and just live life to the fullest . fully believes and lives by the statement ‘ try anything once ’ , and tends to be a huge adrenaline junkie . loves partying .

a very private person , which is pretty obvious . people that he lets get close to him still don’t know much about his family or anything like that , but they learn quickly that he’s more than just two - dimensional . he’s actually very witty and fun , loyal , and fiercely protective of the people he cares about .

really just has this facade of being untouchable or unapproachable , but once you really do get to know him , he’s not half as bad as rumors make him out to be . i’m not gonna say he’s a good person , but he’s not that bad .

wanted connections wise , i’d love everything . i know that’s ... not helpful at all though so i’ll jot some ideas down really quickly . and all of these connections will work for muses of any gender .

hookups , fwb , ewb , one - night stands are a must . saint’s pretty much just .... alone , so he looks for comfort in other people , but never wants them to stay .

that being said , i’d like maybe one or two exes . they still would be in the dark about saint’s family / past / u know , but he would’ve fallen for them really hard if he was willing to put a label on things . give me a big heartbreak because that’s super spicy .

along those lines ... someone he wasn’t willing to put a label on for ? he broke their heart because of his unwillingness to commit ? i can definitely see that happening .

party friends , please ! ride or dies .

he’s a bad influence on your muse / your muse is a good influence on him . he rlly needs it

best bros . a bro squad , perhaps . please i need this chaos

unlikely friends are always spicy

enemies because i’m sure he has a lot of them one way or another . he is truly a pain in the ass

this is so bad help me pls let’s just think up something together i promise it’ll be so nice and fun and fresh

#u know what .... this took forever and it's still bad #and what about it #cancel:intro

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mf-despair-queen · 5 years

Text

Manager Girl - Dylan O’Brien AU

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Baseball!Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 15,211

Summary: Now knee deep in the role as manager of the Mets, you find yourself in a hard place when Dylan’s performance has warranted drastic measures from Mickey Callaway.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Public Sex, Shower Sex, Wall Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Side Sex, Squirting, Some sort of feels and cheesy romance?

Notes: This took. Forever. And I’m sorry for that. But thank @roscoeknows for being there to support me and help me through this every step fo the way. She is the best Hiro Hoechlin ever???

“Dyl, we shouldn’t be doing this right now.”

The words were broken as they passed through your lips, gasps of delight mingling with the crackled vocals that rumbled from your throat. Your skin burned with the searing hot kisses that were placed to your neck, toes curling into the flats that adorned your feet. The papers that once covered your desk were pushed aside gracelessly, some spilling over the edge onto the carpeted floor, with the opposing body that was leaned over your desk, assaulting your features with the plump, pink lips on his face.

A distinct smirk grew on his features when he pulled away, pushing himself off the desk before rounding it quickly. The chair you were sat in was pushed back, wheels rattling against the plastic mat under your desk’s edges. The round bottom of the baseball player you so fondly adored, despite years of torment and agony, was perched on the edge of the desk, his large, veiny hands cupping your cheeks. The lips you desired in the odd hours of the day ghosted over yours, taunting you with the dream-like connection that was destined to meet them.

“We have time,” was the husky, sultry response that seeped off his tongue. His lips pressed to yours for a brief second before trailing along your jaw to your neck again that was instinctively craned for him access.

“But practice is about to start,” you breathed out amidst the moan of his name you let out, eyes fluttering closed. The front of your blouse was tugged south, kisses peppered to your clavicle. Our hands rose, weaving through the soft locks atop his head that laid flat from the hat he wore in that morning.

Dylan made a sound of dismissal while shrugging his shoulders, smiling against your chest. “They won’t miss me at the start,” he murmured. “Besides, we will be quick. I know you can’t resist me, baby. I know I drive you insane. You’re my girl for a reason. So, what do you say? Just a quick round before I’m busting my ass all day?”

Your lips pursed together, deliberating on not only his arrangement, but everything around you. A year that this had been going on. A year since the egotistical, top player of the New York Mets had changed his fuckboy ways, becoming the loving, caring boyfriend you’d never thought he could be.

And you were on cloud nine.

Things had been amazing. You had officially assumed your role as one of the managers for your dream team. You had practically moved in with your boyfriend, more of your clothes sitting in the drawers in his house than your own. The time spent with him, watching him become a man after your own heart, made it flutter aimlessly. And the rendezvous in your office without anyone knowing what crazy things you were doing behind closed doors made your adrenaline pump.

You couldn’t be happier.

Smiling widely, you pulled him up to your lips, disregarding the discolored mark that stained your skin beneath your shirt. His chocolate creme eyes closed, his face pushing harder into yours. His hands rested on either arm of the chair to support himself, leaving your hands to work on the buttons for his practice shirt. The kiss grew messier, wet smacks beginning to fill the room. Metal filing cabinets against the wall amplified the sound, making it ring in your ears. His lips dragged down against yours before separating for a moment, smashing together mere seconds later. Tongues swirled together between your cheeks, his tongue dominating yours in the end.

The star player sunk to his knees in front of you, hands slowly running along your body, tracing every curve along the way. His tender touch made your shiver, loving the way his hands felt memorizing every inch of flesh. His touch was careful, smoothing over your body until his hands were resting on your hips, pushing at the bottom of your pencil skirt.

Your wordless choice was clear to him, the man hiking your skirt up your waist, revealing the black panties he loved. His mouth watered, Adam’s Apple bobbing when he thickly swallowed. Dylan’s hands were sweaty pulling down the silky material - not that you cared in the end. Every touch made you sweat in return, goosebumps along your skin from the chills he gave you. Dylan carelessly tossed the pair of discarded silk behind him, the wet panties landing in a heap under your desk.

Before he could meet his mark, a knock on the door was heard. Your eyes snapped open and the subtle rapping against the wood, your foot pressed against Dylan’s chest in haste. The man grunted as he toppled backwards, growling under his breath as he shuffled backwards. His head thunked against the edge of the desk, long limbs tucked into the small space as much as possible. You were quick to slide forward, unable to fix your bunched-up skirt before the door opened.

“Hey boss,” one of the marketing employees under you, Jacob was his name, said as he walked in, eyes glued to the envelopes in his hands. Behind him, through the open door, you could hear the cheers and chatter from the rest of the team, one by one the men walking by on their way to the field. Dylan was definitely late, you noted, and you were praying that this wasn’t an inquiry about his location. Everyone know you were dating so if he was MIA, you were the first person they came to. You weren’t exactly sure if you could lie to them when he was currently under your desk, face between your legs and buried in your dripping wet pussy.

“Hey, Jake,” you managed to squeak out, licking your lips to wet your dry. “What can I do you for?”

“Just came to drop off the mail for you,” he hummed happily. His footsteps sounded heavy as he moved forward, your hand outstretched to take the envelopes in his grasp. “Thought I’d save you a trip. Don’t want to wear you out or anything.”

“Thanks, Jake,” you told him, taking the envelopes. “You didn’t have to-”

Your words ended abruptly, a sharp intake of air hitting your chest. The envelopes slipped from your hold, landing on the desk. One hand slammed to the table, nails scratching at the surface. Your body was heating up - seeing as the man between your legs decided to be devious and bury his face between your thighs, tongue dipping between your folds and into your wet center.

Jake’s forehead scrunched up, eyebrow raising. “You ok?”

“Just fine,” you managed to say, minimizing the stammer and shake in your tone. Your words seemed to prompt Dylan to go harder, pressing a thumb to your swollen clit, harsh circles rubbed to it. His tongue swirled around in your core, muted slurps from his lips on your core making you quake. “Just kicked the table on accident.”

“You did?” he asked. With your nod, he didn’t bother to question further. “Alright. Well, I was wondering if you weren’t too busy tonight…”

You wanted to groan. Not only was your boyfriend busy eating you inside and out, his magical tongue beginning to make your vision blurry, you had your staff talking to you, leaning on the very desk he was hiding under. You wanted to tell him to buzz off so you can finish what was started. The last thing you wanted was to listen to whatever he had to propose.

“...Maybe we can grab a bite to eat or something. You’re always busy when I ask but-”

“Can’t tonight,” you sharply cut, biting your lip. “You know how it is. Beginning of the season means more work to do.”

The entire time you talked, Dylan pushed himself into you further, lapping at every drop you released. He was driving you insane and you were on the brink of telling Jake to leave, desperate for more than kitten licks and thumb rubbing.

“Oh. Right,” he chuckled pitifully. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah. Next time,” you gasped, the hold on your desk increasing. “Now, if you don’t excuse me, I have to get back to work. Have to open mail, finish papers. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah, right,” Jake murmured, backing out the door. “Well, bye then?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Once the door clicked shut, you stood abruptly, not caring that your skirt was raised and your ass was exposed. Dylan chuckled, crawling out from under the desk with a noticeable erection in his shorts. One hand palmed at it while the other wiped his glistening chin, juices stuck in his stubble. He was quick to follow after you, circling the desk behind you. With his back to the office door, you were trapped against the desk, his body pressed against yours.

“He was totally hitting on you,” Dylan mused. A soft kiss was placed to your lips, muffling a whine that escaped. “He really needs to learn to back off because you’re all mine.”

“He was not hitting on me,” you scowled. The glint in Dylan’s eyes made you back down. “Fine, he was badly trying to hit on me despite knowing I am happily taken. Just let the kid live, Dyl.”

“Well, I can’t blame him,” Dylan chuckled, pressing a firmer kiss to your lips. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re late,” you pointed out, recalling the group of players that had walked by when Jake arrived.

“Well then,” Dylan hummed, grinning. His fingers played with the band on his shorts, tongue poking out to playfully toy with your lips. “We should finish what we started. Show that kid that you are all mine.”

“Except that he isn’t here to watch,” you quipped.

Dylan’s brow rose, smirking at your words. “Would you be into that?” he questioned, pushing down his shorts.

Your mouth parts, but not in the sarcastic response you were about to return with. Dylan lined himself up with your entrance, hiking your legs up so your feet weren’t on the ground. Your bottom sat on the desk, the erect cock of your boyfriend slid deep into your moist pussy. While he stilled, hilt deep inside you, your legs and arms wound around his lean form, hugging him close. Every inch of his muscles - chest, shoulders, biceps and abs - flexed and tensed under your touch, rippling against your fingertips. Veins ran along his bare forearms to his hands, his fingertips digging into your sides.

“Hell no,” you managed to say. “I’d rather it just be you, Dyl.”

“I like the sound of that,” he hummed. “But, I also like when you moan for me in this very office. And at home. And anywhere, honestly. But, for now, you’re going to moan for me here.”

His hips pulled back, a prolonged moan escaping your lips with every inch of his shaft that rubbed along your walls while pulling out. Before the tip could escape your depths, he slammed back into you. The desk rattled, and your body jolted with ecstasy. You moans grew louder the more he moved, repeating the motions he began. Hips clapped together in harmony, skin on skin smacks mixing with your breathless grunts and groans.

Dylan huffed and puffed, eyes closed at the intense feeling he had. Your walls hugged him tightly, the only thing giving him ease to move in and out of you at high speeds being your natural lubrication from your secretion. His hands would tug you forward whenever he slammed back into you, delving deep between your walls until he was hitting the sensitive spots that made you whimper, mewling his name. The tip connected with your sweet spot every time he slid back into you, making your nails dig into his shoulders.

The man carelessly pushed your blouse up, pushing your bra out of the way, so he could dip his head down, latching onto a pert nipple. His thrusts into you didn’t cease, slamming into you relentlessly. The table continued to shake, knocking papers that once teetered on the edge of the desk to the floor. But you weren’t focused on the mess being made. Your head was busy falling back, hands moving to tangle in his hair while he sucked on your breasts. His tongue flicked at the hard bud of your breast. His lips tugged at them with short kisses, pulling at them until the nipple slipped from his mouth with a loud pop.

Too distracted by the man pounding you into oblivion, ecstasy coursing through your veins, neither of you heard the office door open. Dylan was concentrating on his wild thrusts into your tight pussy, cock twitching against your walls with the inevitable orgasm he was approaching quickly, and his lips around your nipples, mumbling incoherent words against you skin that sounded vaguely like he was telling you how much he loved your tits and how he couldn’t wait to paint you in his cum, watching it drip from your depths. You were close, ready to explode around him. Your nails scraped at his scalp, tugging at his hair, chanting his name on repeat.

“O’Brien, aren’t you supposed to be practicing?”

You let out a loud shriek in fright, pushing Dylan away as quick as you could. He left you empty, your legs clenching shut to hide your core from the new presence in the room. Your arms wrapped around yourself, blocking the view of your red blotched chest from prying eyes. Your eyes glistened with fearful tears, your lip quivered with anxiety and face was beet red from embarrassment. Dylan stumbled to pull up his shorts, uncomfortably adjusting his erect cock that was still soaked from your juices.

“H-Hi Mickey,” you gasped, swallowing thickly. Dylan groaned, running a hand through his hair as he, too, turned to face your boss, licking his lips. Mickey’s eyes narrowed on the star player, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hi, boss,” Dylan started with a hint of an awkward chuckle stuck on his tongue.

“Get on the field and practice like you’re supposed to, O’Brien.”

“Yup,” Dylan popped, turning to place a quick kiss to your cheek before sliding by his manager and out the door, his grunts of discomfort heard echoing down the hall from his trained erection that lingered in his pants.

Mickey turned away while you fixed yourself, meekly standing under his gaze when you were done. “I’m sorry,” was your abrupt apology to the older man, your eyes downcast on the carpet.

“I don’t want to know how many times this has happened,” he huffed, seating himself in a chair against the wall. “I hope now is a good time to talk to you, but we really need to have this talk.”

Your eyes narrowed on the man, your brow hurt from wrinkling the way they did. Your fingers curled into your palms tighter, the urge to bite at your fingernails anxiously increasing - a bad habit you seemed to pick up from your boyfriend. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“You might want to take a seat,” came Mickeys words, the tone somewhat icy and unfamiliar to your ears. It sent shivers up your spine, heart stopping from the unknown discussion you were about to have. “We have a lot to discuss.”

This was not how you thought your day would go.

Your body felt weak while trudging outside. Your feet dragged against the flooring towards the stairs that led to the field. Naturally, you blocked out the greetings the players gave you as they slipped by sweat dripping down their faces from their long afternoon of training. Their sweaty stench hit your nose, but you didn’t grimace. You were used to it since Dylan always smelled of sweat and his cologne after practice. You grew to enjoy the smell after months of being around him.

Your heart was racing as you ascended the steps, lifting an arm to cover your eyes from the blinding sun. Even though it was setting, disappearing over the walls of Citi Field, the light outside still made your eyes water and blink to ease the pain until they could adjust to the bright outside. The last of the players were flitting inside, chatting happily about how their practice had gone.

But your eyes were trained on the man still on the field, gathering the last of the equipment with the new ball boy that was hired in your stead. It meant Dylan had lost today’s bet, you assumed. The Mets boys had begun this tradition of bets during training this season that whoever was the loser had to help gather the equipment after practice. It was partially to help the new ball boy adjust to his job - though you wished they could have given you the same treatment when you started - while it was also a way for the men to have fun while practicing for the upcoming season.

Dylan’s eyes lit up when he saw you approaching, a smile growing on his face. You couldn’t hear what he said, but you saw his mouth open, turning to the ball boy, Todd. Todd eyed the star player for a moment before nodding slowly, almost unsurely. The remnants of the equipment in the boy’s hands were dropped in the bin, bats clattering together and balls thudding against the bottom of the rolling cart.

You were cast a small smile by the ball boy when he passed you, his footsteps picking up as he sprint down towards the locker room. He said nothing on his way, leaving you in the silence with Dylan O’Brien. He dropped his own handful of equipment into the bin before opening his arms, wrapping your body in his embrace. His frame was shirtless, like you had come to see many times when he practiced. His sweaty body clung to yours, the fabric of your top stuck to his muscled chest.

The entire time you were trapped in his embrace, your heart sunk more, remembering the long talk you just had with your boss. Your mind was buzzing with the countless thoughts you had, trying to formulate words to spill like word vomit. Your hands, resting on his defined hips, tightened, nails scratching at his skin along his v-lines. While his nose was buried in your hair, smelling the sweet smell of strawberry, yours was tucked into his chest, his musky odor heavenly on your senses. Your eyes became wet with unshed tears, a few deep breaths uneven from your body.

Dylan must have picked up on your odd behavior and unusual habits because he pushed you away from him slightly, keeping you within arm’s reach, a pout on his lips and concern swirling in his chocolate irises. He stared down at you with love and worry, mouth opening and closing until he finally managed to muster the words he was trying to piece together.

“So, what happened with Mickey?” he asked lowly, running his hands along your arms. He watched you open and close your mouth, trying to spit out the words, but hearing nothing come out. Instead, he changed to topic. “So, today, I went to hit the ball and missed so bad, that I fell in the dirt. I tried to make a dirt angel, but it didn’t come out that well.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his anecdote of the day, hugging him closer. The sound rang in his ears, making him smile while returning the embrace. His nose nuzzled against your cheek before he began to swamp it with kisses, smothering you with his abundant affection in the form of wet smacks to your face. His fingers tickled your sides, earning himself more rambunctious laughter, your body trying to squirm away from him.

You managed to get yourself loose from his grasp, attempt to flee from his loving assault. But years of baseball had done the man wonders, his stamina not only good in bed, as you had come to find while being together, but on the field as well. His strides were longer than yours, and your heels didn’t help much until they were left in the dust - well, stuck in the grass and dirt. You managed to make it out to right field before your attempts to dodge him became futile, bulging arms trapping you against him. Your body twisted against his, your feet managing to tangle together in a heap that sent you crashing to the ground.

Dylan caught himself on the grass, keeping you against his body to cushion the fall. Your back laid against the green petals that were freshly trimmed that morning, Dylan’s body hovering over yours. His eyes stared deep into yours, the chocolate color making you melt like they were a fondue pot. Your arms, once around his neck to keep yourself against him prior to the slip, loosened, hands cupping his scruffy cheeks. Hearing him sigh deeply made your heart race, watching his eyes flutter shut and feeling him sink into your touch like a cat wanting to be pet.

Slowly, you pulled him in for a tender kiss, his response immediate. His head tilted to allow your lips to mesh together better, slow kisses smacking together. They were short, lips connecting and disconnect in bursts that left yours tingling, wanting more. His body rolled itself against yours, speeding up the kisses as he became needier, hungrier and more desperate for your touch. His tongue smoothed against yours, requesting permission to slip between your cheeks despite his unusual bravado to take control and push past your lips without asking.

You loved the way his lips felt against yours. You loved the way his lips dragged against yours when he pulled away after tracing the inner linings of your cheeks with his tongue. You loved how his body pressed flesh against yours, your bodies matching together like two pieces of a puzzle that were meant to be together. You loved this man with everything you had, even though he seemed to have grown softer over the year you were by his side. Were you lying if you said you missed his dominating, cocky side? Absolutely. You loved these romantic moments with him, but sometimes, you just wanted to see that smirk that made you fall for him in the first place, hearing his husky voice utter vulgar things to you.

He pulled away, chuckling at the short whine you released. He allowed a hand to run through your hair, a soft kiss left to your nose before he rolled off of you, plopping onto the grass by your side. His hand took yours, fingers laced together and giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes stared at the sky - seeing the mixture of blue, pink and orange from the setting sun amongst wisps of white clouds - before turning to face him. He was already staring at the side of your face, and you could see the concern on his features.

He licked his dry lips once, wetting them before speaking. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. Dylan’s frown deepened, inching closer to you.

“What’s on your mind, babe?”

You bit at your lip, hard enough that you thought you’d break skin. You didn’t know how to tell him - you didn’t have the heart for it. But, you knew you needed to. “They’re thinking about a transfer.”

“What?”

Your heart broke more at his confusion, the subtle crack in his voice squeezing at your chest. “I-I…” you began before swallowing and continuing. “They’re thinking of transferring one of us to the Yankees.”

“What?” Dylan burst, angrier this time. Pushing himself up on is elbow, he looked down at you, seething with rage. “They can’t do that! Why would they do that?”

“Dylan, calm down,” you pleaded. “Mickey said that… he said that because of your poor performance over the last few months and through spring training, he’s beginning to think our relationship is having a negative effect on the team. He thinks that because we work together, it’s becoming a hinderance. Really, we shouldn’t be together since it’s a conflict of interest, but he allowed it because of how hard we work. But, you haven’t been the best player lately, Dyl. You haven’t been the star hitter we know you are. You can barely make it to first base sometimes-”

“You can’t say that in bed.”

“This is what he’s getting at,” you huffed. “You know I love you, but they’re serious. Mickey is not happy with your performance and his answer is to remove one of us from the equation. They don’t know who it will be yet because he has a meeting next week to discuss everything, but one of us will be leaving the Mets.”

“But,” he murmured, shaking his head to hide any tears. “This is both of our dreams. They can’t just… they can’t just move one of us when we’ve worked so hard to be here.”

“They can, Dyl,” you sighed. “And they will.”

Dylan sighed, collapsing back on the grass. You could sense his unhappiness, making you frown sadly. “Well,” he hummed, ducking his arm behind his head, resting on his forearm. “We will figure it out, I guess.”

“I guess so.”

It fell silent for a second before Dylan spoke up again. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I didn’t think something like this would happen to us. I know how much working for the Mets means to you. It means so much to me too. I’ve always dreamt of being able to play for this team. I never thought me liking a girl would get me transferred.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you told him, glancing at him.

“It’s pretty much my fault for not being at my best.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, Dylan sneering at your honesty. “You haven’t been yourself for weeks, Dyl. What’s up with that?”

The man was quiet, staring up at the darkening sky, sun fading in the distance. “Just distracted, I guess. I haven’t been here mentally.”

“Well, get it together, man!” you teased, shoving him. Dylan grumbled under his breath, making you giggle softly. “You know, you’ve changed a lot over the past year.”

“What?” he questioned, looking at you. “What do you mean? I have not changed. I am still the same Dylan!”

“Mmm,” you hummed, lips pursed tightly. “You’re different to me.”

“Fine,” Dylan huffed jokingly, rolling onto his stomach and laying his head to stare at the side of your face. “Indulge me, babe. How am I different?”

“Well, you’re sweet now,” you told him. You continued, putting more emphasis on your words when you spotted his sour face. “Remember this, Dyl. When I first met you, and the first years I worked for the Mets, you were a cocky, self-righteous fuckboy that had a different girl hanging off your arm every other day. You were degrading and you were rude and I flat out hated your guts.”

“Such loving words,” he joked.

“I’m serious!” you exclaimed in return. “I couldn’t stand working here because you made my life miserable. But then, you changed and I couldn’t stop falling in love with you because you were such a softie under that rough exterior. You were a loving, caring man under the fucks and shits you strung together like it was nothing. You proved you were more than just a fuckboy.”

“Well, ain’t that just the sweetest.”

“But,” you started, stopping short.

“But, what?”

“Sometimes,” you mused, biting at your lip before turning to stare into his eyes. “Sometimes, I guess that I miss that more cocky man. That egotistical man that knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.”

You could see his brown orbs widen, a spark of interest in your revelation igniting in his dark eyes. “Really?” he wondered, shifting closer until your lips were nearly upon each other. “Is that so, babe?”

“Yeah,” you breathed shortly, eyes already beginning to close. You were ready to feel his lips against yours. “You know I love you and what you do, but there’s just something about the degrading side of you - the cocky, dirtier side of you - that I miss seeing. It’s just kind of sexy to think about you dominating like that.”

“Well,” he quipped, smirking against your lips. “If it helps you out, we can remind you of those times if you want. If you want to see my egotistical side again, we can make that happen. If you want me to be that fuckboy I was before I got with the most beautiful girl in the world, I will gladly do it for you. I will show you a wonderful time, baby, if you’ll let me.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed against his lips. “When is that going to happen?”

“Well…”

The locker room was empty by the time you got there. Everyone had left, leaving you to reenact the first time you had ever done anything with Dylan from over a year ago. The only difference was this time, you were more than willing to be there with him, the water cascading over your bodies while your back was pushed against the cold wall, heated lips placed to yours. Your clothes stuck to your body, the blouse you wore turning see-through while the heated water rained over your bodies. Your body burned from the touch of his hands squeezing at your thighs, his chest pressed to yours while his lips ravenously assaulted you.

He only broke the steamy kiss less than a handful of times. The first was the peel his shirt off his body, the clue cotton with the Mets logo clinging to his biceps and pecs being lifted over his wet with a light suctioning sound, wetly plopping to the side. The second was the drop your skirt, your blouse left unbuttoned to show off your bra. He didn’t have to disconnect from your lips to push your blouse from your shoulders, his focus more on the way his tongue swirled between your cheeks, tangling with yours, than with the removal of your shirt. The third was so he could remove your bra, focusing his mouth on your chest instead of your face.

Your head fell back at the feeling, one hand being used to wipe water droplets from your face while the other tangled in the wet chocolate locks that clung to Dylan’s forehead. Your chest heaved with labored breaths, the hot shower making it harder to catch your breath. It was only amplified by the feeling of euphoria in your heart, the wet smack of lips to your breast making you writhe. Plump pink lips wrapped themselves around each perky nipple, making they harder when he tugged at them nonstop. A large, veiny hand cupped the opposing mound in the palm, fondling it so it didn’t feel neglected. The red blotches that were peppered to your chest earlier multiplied, growing darker than you’re used to.

“God, I just love your tits,” he murmured against your skin, giving your breast a squeeze. You heard him kiss them over and over, your nails curling into his scalp at the pleasure. “I love the way you squirm when I suck on them. Do you like when I suck on them, baby?”

“Yes,” was all you could muster weakly.

“You like when I play with your nipples, don’t you?” he rasped, flicking his tongue against the hard peak to elicit a filthy moan from your throat. “God, you’re such a slut for this. You love when I suck on your nipples. You love when I tug at them with my fingers. Only me, though, baby. Only I can make you feel like this.”

His hand squeezed your breast again, harder this time. “These tits are mine. These nipples are mine. Only I can suck on them until they are so hard, you will show through your bra. Only I can pinch them, squeeze them, and ravage them with my mouth.” He gave them a soft slap, making you yelp in pleasure and pain. “You hear me, baby? All. Mine.”

“All yours,” you repeated.

“Just like,” he began, dropping his hand from your chest to your core. Bypassing your panties with ease, two fingers smoothed themselves over your soaked entrance, your head pushing back further into the wall. “This pretty little cunt is all mine.”

“All yours,” you repeated louder.

Dylan’s lips curled upright, moving back to place his lips on yours. The two fingers at your pussy poked their way inside of you, your mewls muffled and lost to the fierce kiss he was giving you. The slender digits slid in and out of you slowly, taunting you and teasing you, spreading apart while pulling at and thrusting back in when conjoined. Your body quivered at his touch, a knot beginning to coil inside of you.

“Dyl,” you pleaded against his lips when he pulled back for a burst of air. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, playfulness laced on his tone.

“Please,” you let out with a whine. “Please me.”

“I think I can do that. But first,” he quipped, pulling his fingers from inside you, tugging at the band of your panties. “These need to go.”

The discard of your panties was agonizing. The man sunk to his knees, dragging them slowly down your legs, leaving kisses to your hips and thighs along the way. Purposefully avoiding your center left you whimpering for more, tugging at his hair in a futile attempt to get him to please you. His shorts were discarded as soon as he stood up, his arm snaking around your waist - his erect cock trapped between your stomachs.

His hand rested on your ass, giving it a slap that made you jolt. “You want a piece of me, babe?” he hummed huskily, licking his lips. His eyes narrowed, peering down at you as you nodded frantically. “Then, turn around, hands on the wall, and stick that round little ass out for me.”

Doing as he said, you felt the sting of the water pelting at your back, resting your forehead against to cool wall. Your fingers curled, palms pressed flat to the tile. Your skin crawled at the subtle touch of his fingers caressing your backside, the light graze of his fingertips traveling down your spine to your ass. A jolt ran through your body when a loud smack was place to your behind, the cheek cupped in the center of his hand.

“This ass is mine,” he rasped, licking his lips. His free hand casually stroked his elongated length, smearing precum over the tip before the shower washed it away. He could feel it pulsating between his fingers, eager to feel your tight walls clasping around him as he bucked into you wildly, slamming you into the wall while you screamed for him.

You couldn’t help but smile, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Dylan felt a groan catch in his throat at the way your eyes shadowed dangerously, the curl of your swollen lips and wet hair that clung to your face making you look attractively appetizing. Even though he had your cheek cupped in his grasp, you shook your backside from side to side, pushing back to feel his erect cock pressed to your skin. “All yours.”

“That’s right,” he breathed, leaning forward so the words were directed into the shell of your ear, ringing against your ear drum. His chest was against your back, his cock sliding between your thighs and between your folds with the help of the water. “All. Mine.”

It wasn’t slow at the start. When he decided to dominate you, he did just that. One single thrust was all it took for him to side inside you - filling you to the brim, stretching your walls to accommodate his large size. A veiny hand pressed to your lower stomach to keep you close and still, his hips pulling back and ramming swiftly back into your tight core.

The motions continued just like that. Pull back, slam into you. The sound of wet, clapping skin from his hips against your ass resonated through the foggy air, the steam from the shower clouding your forms in the small stall. You were bent just the right amount that gave the best angle for him to please you at, the tip of his cock finding the sweetest spots in your pussy that made your stomach tighten more than before. His balls smacked your folds with every thrust, the man hammering into you, his cock pistoning its way in and out of you like a machine in overdrive.

His hand slid through your hair, fingers weaving through the strands, before giving it a sharp tug back. Your moans were being muffled by your hands, your head buried away to the heat and euphoria. You were having a hard time concentrating: the heat making your mind fuzzy, his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, adrenaline from the situation coursing through your blood. Yet, Dylan wanted to hear every moan you were letting out, his name on constant repeat.

“That’s right,” were the husky words you could make out through muffled hearing, the shower pelting against the ground louder than you were used to. That mixed with the ever-growing noise of skin on skin was all you could make out. Even if he was talking almost directly in your ear, you struggled to make out what he said. “Moan my name, baby. I love hearing you scream my name like the slut you are.”

“I-” you choked out, biting back a loud mewl. “I’m only a slut for you, Dyl.”

“Mmm?” he hummed through tight lips. “Only a slut for me? Are you a slut for my cock?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

“You like when I do this?” he continued, ramming into you harder than before, thrusting deep up into your core. Your scream couldn’t be silenced, your body ready to collapse from your trembling legs. If it hadn’t been for Dylan holding you upright, you would be on the floor, quivering from bliss. “That’s right. Scream for me. You love when I pound your tight little pussy with my cock. You love when I fuck you up, don’t you? You’re so dirty, baby. Filthy, dirty little suck for my cock.”

His hand pushed through you wet locks, carefully sliding down the front of your face. Your eyes drifted closed at his semi-soft touch. His palms were calloused from wielding a bat for as long as he had, but, against your wet skin, was a welcoming feeling. The tips of his fingers danced over your partially separated lips, allowing you to place soft kisses to them. You managed to draw them into your mouth, sucking on them briefly, before they descended further south, ending at your neck.

A sharp breath of air left your lips, a squeeze of his hand on your throat slightly restricting your airway. Your mind went completely blank, the hold on your neck cutting off one of your senses increasing the feeling of his manic thrusts into you. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head, your body shaking in his grasp. Your stomach was tight, clenching uncontrollably.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered into your ear, ramming into you fiercely. The hand on your stomach slid up to your bouncing breasts, giving them a squeeze that mirrored your neck. He tilted his head to watch them sway with his motions, eyeing your face occasionally. “I love the way you look when I’m fucking you like this. If I could, I would film this and get off to this image every time I need to when you aren’t around to help me. I can’t get enough of your sweet body.”

He was getting you close. He could sense it. And much to your dismay, he stopped, pulling out and leaving you dripping and empty. Both hands rested on your chest, juggling your breasts, listening to you whimper pathetically for more.

And when he was satisfied with your noises, he spun you around, one leg lifted with the bend of your knee on his forearm. His other hand, not pressed to the wall, held your arms above your head, his lips finding home on yours. Your exasperated moan was lost to his plush pink lips, swelled from your reckless behavior, when he slid back into you. You back slid against the wall every time he pushed back into you, his speed declined but the pleasure still pronounced. Every thrust was exact and calculated, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could.

He kept going until you were on the verge of collapse. Your air supply was gone from countless kisses and exhaustive heat. You stomach was so tight, it felt like your insides were going to fall out soon, exploding from the strain. Your limbs ached from clenching, yet you felt the familiar sense of euphoria tingling inside. His lips lingered over yours, sharing the air with you. The touch of his forehead against yours as he pushed into you sloppily made you weak, the contact comforting.

The world seemed to black out when you came, juices spilling out around him, coating his length in your arousal. Your walls hugged him as tight as possible, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Your nails curled into yourself, only separating when his fingers slid through him, interlocking your hands in a firm hold. His body continued to buck into you until he, too, was cumming. His seed shot out in spurts, strings of white filling your core and mixing with your own juices. Your tight walls milked him for all he had, the man slowing his stride until your highs were depleted.

He didn’t pull out as your bodies relaxed. Your leg was dropped, your toes hitting the wet ground, curling into the droplets that encircled your feet. Your arms were released, draped against his shoulders. Your nails scraped at his back, soft red marks left on his skin. They ended up on his neck, playing with the ends of his hair that stuck to the nape of his neck. Dylan turned off the water, droplets dripping from the tips of his chocolate locks to the ground.

Together, you stayed just like that - locked in each other’s embrace, hugging the other tightly. Dylan’s lips touched your forehead, a hand weaving through the hair on the back of your head as he held you. His nose flared out with heavy breaths, his eyelashes fluttering as he fought back tears. Your body shook slightly in his arms, tears of your own beginning to fall. With the moment over, his arms safely around you in a comforting way, the realization was hitting you both.

The dream was over for one of you.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured under his breath. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I know,” you mumbled, leaning back enough to look up at him. His thumb ran across your face, wiping away a stray tear. “Just promise me you won’t make a big ordeal about this. No problems with all of this.”

“I won’t make a scene,” he promised, hugging you close.

Yet, the man couldn’t help but think one thing.

I will figure out why this is happening. And I will fix this for you.

A knock wrapped at Mickey Callaway’s door the following afternoon. The manager looked up from his papers, uttering a low ‘come in’ for the unknown being on the other side. To his surprise, his star player - who seemed to be at his worst since joining the team - walked through the door. His hands were stuffed in his short’s pockets, blue training shirt clinging to his torso. His blue Mets hat was pulled low over his hair, his eyes downcast to the floor.

“Dylan,” Mickey began, placing his pen down. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be preparing the game soon?”

“Yeah, I know,” Dylan uttered slowly. When he glanced up, Mickey was surprised to see the dullness in his eyes, slight red rings around the edges. The dark constellation of marks along his cheeks seemed darker than normal against his pale cheeks. The man shuffled in his step, shifting his weight between feet. “I just had a question for you.”

“Alright,” Mickey hummed, gesturing to the chair across from him. He watched the baseball star take a seat cautiously, sitting on the edge of his seat. “What’s wrong, Dylan? You don’t look that great.”

“I don’t feel great, honestly,” he admitted to his boss. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. It was a rough night.”

“Are you sure you will be ok to play this week? We can switch if needed.”

“No, no,” Dylan quickly denied with the shake of his head. “It’s our home game opener. I want to play. I’m ok to play. I will feel better before the game, I promise. But, I just had to get something off my chest first.”

Mickey’s brow cocked at the statement, nodding at the younger man. “Alright. Go ahead.”

“Why are you doing this?” Dylan asked, voice cracking slightly. Mickey eyed him, waiting for him to continue. “I know my performance hasn’t been great these last few months, but I don’t get why you need to transfer one of us.”

Mickey’s lips pursed, leaning forward on his desk to stare down the athlete. “It’s my job to keep this team together, Dylan. If you aren’t performing at your best, I need to fix that. And from what I can tell, the distraction is your relationship. I was lenient and let you guys work together when I really shouldn’t have because I know you both are amazing at what you do. But, when it comes down to it and you can’t do what you need to, I have to fix it.”

His words were harsh, Dylan wincing slightly at what he said. His hands clasped together in his lap, forming a tight ball. “Please,” he let out, biting his lip. “There has to be something that we can do - that I can do - to fix this.”

“Dylan…”

“Please, Mickey,” he pleaded. “You don’t understand how much this means to both of us. I’ve dreamt of playing for the Mets my entire life. I couldn’t bear playing for another team. And Y/N… she worked so hard to be here. She put up with my lying, cheating ass for so long, dealing with the strain and torture I caused her, because she wanted to work for the Mets that bad. It would break both of us to tear either one of us from this job. So please, there has to be something that I can do to save us both.

“And, if there isn’t, don’t take it out on her. She doesn’t deserve it. It was my fuck up that caused this. I’m the one not performing well enough. I’m the one that pushes her to do the things we do when I know we shouldn’t. She is more amazing at this than I am. She is the best manager you will have on your team and if it comes down to it, transfer me, not Y/N. I couldn’t bear to break her heart.”

Mickey listened to Dylan’s pleas. He watched the man break down before him. It broke his heart to see the young man so vulnerable, his hard shell cracking ever so slightly. Dylan was a hard person to read, giving off a persona of a badass to everyone he met. Yet, here he was, begging for his girlfriend’s job over his own, his heart worn on his sleeve in that moment.

“Dylan,” Mickey started, lifting his own hat off his head to run his fingers through his hair. “There isn’t anything I can do at the moment-”

“Mickey, please,” Dylan choked slightly. “There has to be something.”

Mickey sighed. “The only thing that can potentially stop this is if you improve. Show me that I was wrong in assuming that your relationship with Y/N is affecting how you play. Whatever is on your mind all the time, get if off your chest finally and stop waiting for it. Just do it. Be the Dylan that we know and love. Because if you can’t be him, then why did Y/N fall for you?”

Dylan sat silently for a moment, processing his words. “Get it off my chest? Be myself?” he chuckled slightly.

“Yup,” Mickey hummed. “You have something weighing you down. Get rid of that and show me that you can be the man I recruited. You are our best player for a reason, Dylan. So, be that guy. I know you can do it. Make it count and I assure you everything will work out.”

Dylan’s hands tightened before nodding, standing from his seat. “Alright. If I can show you that we are fit to be here, that us working together isn’t a hassle, you’ll keep us?”

“Of course,” Mickey confirmed. “Prove me wrong.”

“Alright. Thank you for the help, sir.”

“No problem, Dylan,” he said, watching the young man leave. Mickey Callaway leaned back in his seat, a smile on his face. “I hope your things work out for you in the end.”

Opening day at Citi Field. It was bittersweet for you. You spun around in your seat, checking your phone for the hundredth time in days. Every text had been read, but not responded to. Phone calls were ignored. You didn’t know why, but Dylan had been ignoring you since the night in the locker room shower.

Your heart was slightly broken at the fact that your own boyfriend wouldn’t answer you when you tried to call him. He wouldn’t be home when you went by his house, so you opted to stay at your tiny apartment that felt cold without him there. It didn’t feel like home as you laid in bed, the spot beside you void of warmth.

You felt slightly used, thinking that maybe things were dissipating quicker than you’d like after the talk of someone’s transfer. One last rendezvous in the shower and he was done with you. You prayed you were wrong, but there was nothing else you could think of that would explain his odd behavior.

And as you sat in your office, shorts hugging your hips, Mets shirt buttoned up and neatly tucked into your shorts, and a Mets hat that matched your boyfriend’s, you wondered if you should even be attending the game. The season opener at your home stadium - if it was even going to be home soon. You wanted to support your team - support your man - but you wondered if it would be better for you to go home and drown yourself in some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

Glancing at the clock, you sighed, daring to make your way up to the field. The game would be starting soon, the opening pitch thrown in a matter of minutes. Your body felt heavy standing from your seat, checking yourself in the mirror before you would attempt to go out. You didn’t want to ruin your makeup from potential tears.

A knock on your door was curious. They didn’t wait for the ok to come in before the door opened, a familiar man making your heart race in your doorway. His uniform was pristine and clean - bound to get dirty soon. He held his glove in his hand, playing with it. His chest rose and fell with uneasy breaths, like he was afraid to confront you after ignoring your presence for days. He avoided eye contact with you, glancing around the room and diverting his gaze whenever he set his sights on your form across the room. It was not like him at all, and that scared you.

Part of you hoped that he would just be himself - that he would rush forward, kiss you like you were his source of living. You wanted him to feel your body up, his hands moving nonstop against your body, memorizing every inch of you. You wanted him to do anything, honestly. You just wanted to be touched, to be held, to be loved. You wanted the man you fell for back in your arms, and so far, he seemed distant.

You were terrified of what was about to happen.

His mouth opened and closed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing when he swallowed the lump in his throat. His knuckles were turning white from how hard he held his glove. Finally, his quiet voice came through. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you responded, unsure of yourself.

“I um…” he cracked, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you the last few days. I’ve been a bit busy.”

Your heart sank in your chest, splashing in a pit of stomach acid. That didn’t sound good to you and your mind assumed the worst. Was he seeing someone else? Was he through with you? Was he ready to move on because one of you were going to lose your dream job? What had you done wrong to make this happen?

“I can’t explain right now, but if you’ll give me a chance, I will explain soon. You deserve to know what I’ve been doing and why I’ve been kind of absent the last few days.” He paused, rubbing the scruffed jaw you adored. “I wanted to stop by to see if you were going to be watching me play today. It’s the season opener after all and I was hoping… you’d still be here to watch. I think you’ll enjoy the game.”

You were shocked that he was asking for such a thing. It brought back memories of him asking for a chance before you began dating. As much as you wanted to tell him no, not wanting to be hurt, you bit the bullet, nodding slowly. The first time he asked for this, he showed that he was true to his word. Now, you were going to do the same - trust in his word; trust in him.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

It was the first time since the other night you had seen him smile. It was small and brief, but it made the butterflies inside you flutter. “Great. I’m glad,” he murmured, backing towards the door. “I should go get ready. The game is about to begin. And please, don’t be late. I want you to be there for the opening pitch because I think it’ll be one to remember.”

Your forehead scrunched in confusion, unable to question him further. He turned on his heel and ran, the door left ajar on his way out. You could hear the chatter of the crowd streaming through the hallways, the stadium filling to capacity for the first game. The fans were there to support your team, and you hoped that they were in for a good game. Knowing that Dylan wasn’t at his peak, you were worried your team would fail, and you would disappoint them.

With a deep sigh, you followed in the steps of your boyfriend, knowing it was time. Your steps seemed to go in slow motion, headed for the steps to the field, directly by the Mets dugout. The sun was still shining overhead, lighting up the field, making your eyes sparkle. Seeing the stands full of people in bright blues and oranges, your heart was alight. The players were preparing for a memorable game. In all your years, it never ceased to amaze you being there.

The music that was playing to pass the time died down, the announcers in the booth announcing that the opening pitch was about to take place. You leaned against the side of the dugout, staying hidden in the shade, to watch the start of the season. Dylan’s strides were long, and his look was nearly opposite compared to how he looked in your office. He was smiling brightly, waving at the crowd as he trotted to the mound, ball and glove in hand.

What you didn’t see was the mic that was hidden in his glove until he stood on the pitcher’s mound, placing the glove and ball to the side to favor the device. “Hey everyone! Long time no see!”

The crowd cheered for him, making you laugh at their delight.

“Is everyone ready for a wonderful season to the Mets?” He held the mic out, listening to the screams of everyone. “That’s good to hear. Well, before we get things started, I wanted to do something a bit special for one of our very, very important team members for the Mets.”

Your brow furrowed, straightening up slightly. You watched him grin, glancing around until he spotted your figure in the distance. He seemed to smile wider, making you wonder.

“A long, long time ago, we had a ball girl that was an amazing addition to the team. She was a beautiful woman, but the ball girl gig just wasn’t for her. She was too smart, too talented, and too overqualified to be chasing around my balls.” The crowd snickered at his words, making you hide your face from embarrassment. “Ok, ok. Bad choice of words. But, it’s true. She had a college degree and everything. And she was lucky enough to become one of our managers. And I was lucky enough to be given a chance to call her my girlfriend on this very mound.

“So, I want to call her out here now because I have a very important thing to talk to her about. I owe her an explanation because I haven’t talked to her in days. I haven’t been the best boyfriend and now, I want to tell her why. So, Y/N,” he hummed, curling his finger your way. “If you’ll please join me on the mound.”

“Not again,” you huffed to yourself, taking a deep breath before stepping away from your spot. Dylan was practically bouncing as you made your way forward, the crowd cheering with every step you took. When you were near, his hand extended to you, hoping you would take it in return. When you did, you could feel how clammy his hands were, his aura exuding nervousness.

“Well, about a year ago, I stood up here, asking this very beautiful woman to give me a chance to be her boyfriend and she has made me the happiest man in the world. She is amazing at everything she does, and I couldn’t be more proud that she has achieved everything she has.” He paused, licking his lips. His eyes met yours, the color bright and vibrant. “I have to say that I love this woman with all my heart.”

“Dylan…”

“And I’m probably going to get hit for doing something like this again, but this has been on my mind for weeks now,” he chuckled, digging his hand in his pocket as he did. “I haven’t been able to focus on practice. I haven't been able to focus on playing. I haven’t been at my best because I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you to be mine for the rest of my life. I didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t know what kind of ring. I was stuck. And it affected my work. And for that, I apologize because it could have hurt you too. I didn’t see you, didn’t talk to you, so I could get myself ready for this. I needed it to be perfect. So, please, Y.N.”

Slowly, he got down on one knee, holding a small, black box in his palm. Inside sat a sing, a single diamond in the middle of the band that glowed in the sun. He cleared his throat once more before speaking up. “Y/N L/N, you are the love of my life and I couldn’t be happier that you gave me that chance. I don’t regret asking you out. I don’t regret putting your name out to be the new manager. You were once my ball girl, then you were my manager girl. But, now, I want you to be my girl, forever, if you’ll have me. Y/N, will you marry me?”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You felt like you couldn’t talk. The attempt to keep your makeup from running was ruined when happy tears slid down your cheeks. You took his hand, closing it around the mic with him. Pulling him up, you held the mic closer to your lips, sniffles echoing through the stadium.

“Yes, Dylan. I will marry you,” you managed to let out. “But, only on one condition.”

His head tilted to the side. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You grinned widely, taking the mic fully from his hand. You glanced around the stadium, listening to people cheer and holler. “You have to go out there and win this game!” you screamed loudly, the fans jumping to their feet, applauding in agreement. Turning back to Dylan, you giggled, staring into his eyes. “What do you say, O’Brien?”

Dylan smirked at your words, snapping the box closed. He took the mic from you, holding it to his lips. “Easy.”

You were surprised when Jacob DeGrom came out to make the pitch instead, Dylan pulling you back to the dugout. You joined the rest of the team, receiving congratulations on the way. Even Mickey gave you a thumbs up, making you question your boss mentally. Dylan held your hand tightly, turning to face you when you were in a corner alone. He held out the ring box towards you, smiling happily.

“Keep this safe for me, will you? That way when we win, I can properly put that ring on your finger.”

“I will keep it safe,” you hummed, taking the box. As soon as you did, you pushed up on your toes, connecting your lips to his. Dylan seemed to melt into you, your hand resting on his cheek, his stubble scratching at your skin. He pulled you against him, kissing your furiously. Pulling apart, your lips brushed his as you spoke. “I love you, Dyl.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

“Kick some butt out there.”

“Always.”

With that, he was on the field leaving you to stand with Mickey, watching the game begin. Mickey cast you a smile, wrapping his arm around you in a fatherly way. “Did you have something to do with this?” you inquired, leaning on the rail, but glancing up at the man.

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “We’ll talk about this later. After the game, I need you and Dylan to come by my office. Alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Nothing was more fulfilling than watching the crowd in the stands jumping to their feet, fists pumping as the final inning closed, Mets obliterating the Giants - lead by Dylan O’Brien himself. The team ran to their star player as he threw the last pitch, the batter striking out for the last time. There was no need for the Mets to play the bottom of the ninth - they had won. The men gathered on the pitcher’s mound, arms wrapped around their star that had regained his momentum during the game. You laughed at their enthusiasm, clapping your hands happily at the victory for your team.

As the guys broke apart, Dylan’s eyes fell on yours, smiling widely. You saw his mouth open, excusing himself from the others you assumed seeing as he ducked under their arms, rushing in your direction. You joined him on the grass, squealing when his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, lifting you from the ground to spin you in circles. Your laughs grew, wrapping your own arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Your foreheads pressed against one another, noses brushing lightly to each other.

“I won for you, baby,” he whispered, licking his lips slowly. His hot breath hit your face, fanning against your cheeks. Your face hurt from how much you were grinning, weaving your digits through his wet with sweat hair without a care.

“You did,” you murmured back.

“So, that means that you are mine, right? Forever?”

You giggled, nodding against him. “I was yours regardless if you won or not, Dyl. Because I love you so much. Winning is just an added bonus.”

“So, I won for nothing then?”

“Naw. I like when my team wins.”

“Good. Because it’s going to stay that way.” He placed you on your feet for a moment, tugging you closer by the belt loops, biting his lip. “Did you do what I asked? Did you keep it safe?”

“Of course,” you laughed, dropping your arms to pull the small box from your pocket. “Kept it on me at all times. You know I’d never let you down.”

“This is true. You never have let me down, even when I was a prick to you for years,” he laughed, taking the box. His fingers trembled while pulling out the ring. You could feel him shaking while taking your hand, glancing at your face with a grin. “And now, I’m glad I can call you my own for the rest of my life.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? A deal is a deal, playboy.”

“Hey! I gave that up because I feel for you!” he chuckled, sliding the ring on your finger. His arms circled your body again, both of you admiring the sparkling gem that adorned your right hand. “But, I’m glad I did. It was, and always will be, worth it for you. I love you so much, Y/N. My manager girl.”

“I love you too, Dylan. My baseball star.”

“Just kiss already!” the rest of the team yelled. The remainder of the crowd hooted and hollered in agreement, making the pair of you share a laugh, chortling at their actions.

He lifted you off the ground once more, locking eyes with you. His orbs sparkled with wonder, glistening in the stadium lights. Dylan leaned up in compliance, placing his lips on yours. You would have been crazy if you didn’t return it, feeling the love that the man felt tingling to them, coursing through your veins to the rest of your body. His lips were soft, as always, turning you to jelly in his hold. The screaming around you disappeared, the only thing mattering being yourself and the man you loved sharing a moment that you would never forget.

Breaking the kiss with a popping smack, your feet found the grass once more, Dylan’s arms never leaving your sides. The man peppered you with a few more kisses, snuggling into your cheek.

“Dyl,” you laughed, hearing him grunt in response. “Mickey wanted to speak to us in his office after the game.”

“He did?” Dylan asked, sound muffled in your neck.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, kissing the side of his head. “You need to go shower and change so we can go see him.”

“Fine,” he whined under his breath, backing away. A smirk grew on his face, hands gripping your hips tighter. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he asked, “You want to join me?”

“Do you want the others to see me naked? Do you want the others to see you with an erection? Do you really want them watching you fuck me silly because we know you can’t keep it chill?”

Dylan’s face fell at your deadpanned reaction, pursing his lips. “Damn, you’re right,” he mumbled. “I don’t want them seeing you naked. I don’t care if they watch us fuck because they can be jealous. But baby, you’re mine.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, smacking his chest. “Shower. Now. I will meet you there.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, kissing you before running off.

You took your time heading to Mickey’s office, knocking on the door when you arrived. The quiet ‘come in’ made your heart race, one deep breath leaving your chest before opening the door. Mickey gave an almost reassuring smile when he saw you in his doorway, nodding at one of the chairs across from him.

“Welcome, Y/N,” he greeted. You nodded in returned, sitting in the plush chair. “One hell of a game, eh?”

“Yeah. Glad we were able to win. We’re off to a great start this season.”

“That’s true,” he quipped, leaning back. “Hopefully it’ll stay that way.”

“What are you up to?” you asked, biting at your lip. “I’m so confused.”

“Just wait. I’ll explain once Dylan gets here.”

“He should be here soon. He just had to go shower and change,” you told the man who nodded in return.

The silence was agonizing and uncomfortable, your foot resorting to tapping to keep yourself preoccupied. The tick of the clock made your brain buzz. Your hands curled together in your lap, eyes directed to the ground to avoid unwanted eye contact with the man across the desk. Thoughts of what could be happening - what your future held - raced through your mind, your body sweating from the unknown. The uncertainty was killing you.

A swift rap on the door made your head shoot up, turning in your seat to watch Dylan walk through the door. His jeans hugged his waist, a plain black shirt clinging to his torso. His hair was still damp, sticking up in random directions. On his feet sat his normal, worn out Adidas you knew he adored. His lips curled in an awkward smile, his speckled cheeks crinkling together. The door shut behind him, your eyes following the baseball player while he approached and took his seat.

“Hey Dylan,” Mickey greeted. “Great game today.”

“Thanks,” came Dylan’s rather meek reply. “What’s this about, Mickey?”

“Right, right. I’m sure you both are wondering what is going on considering the whole transfer talk,” Mickey began. You nodded slowly, biting your lip. Dylan remained silent, kicking one leg over his knee as he sunk into his seat. “How do I explain this? I wasn’t lying about the potential for one of you to transfer. I know how much you both love being part of this team and how much it means to you, and normally, your relationship doesn’t get in the way of your work.

“But, Dylan - you haven’t been your best. You couldn’t focus on what you were doing and the ruling was that it was because of your relationship. And I knew it was because of this.”

“Because of… this?” you asked.

“Dylan’s proposal,” Mickey stated. “He had mentioned that he wanted to propose to you and wanted to make sure it would be alright because of your position here.”

You glanced at Dylan, who was avoiding your gaze by biting at his fingers.

“What I didn’t expect was for him to ponder it the way he did. He let it distract him. Dylan can disagree if I’m wrong.” The man beside you shook his head wordlessly. “I didn’t want to lose either of you so, we came up with the idea to transfer one of you because I knew it would kick his ass in gear to finally pop the question.”

“So, you played us,” Dylan chuckled dryly.

“Kind of,” Mickey laughed. “You guys are good for each other and you are good for this team. So, I did what I had to so you guys are happy. I know it hurt you to think that you’d have to leave, but I did what I thought was best for you. And look what happened. It’s about time you guys got hitched.”

Your face flushed, shaking your head. “That’s cruel, boss.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“So, what does this mean?” Dylan asked, glancing between you and Mickey. “What’s going to happen to us?”

Mickey chuckled under his breath, leaning on his desk. “Neither of you are being transferred. I will talk to the other managers and let them know what the decision is. You are too great of assets to this team to let someone else have you. I wouldn’t want to see you putting your skills to work with someone who isn’t us. And I know this means everything to you guys,” Mickey smiled. “It would be a pleasure to keep that dream alive in you.”

“Thank you, Mickey,” you laughed, holding back grateful tears.

“Yeah,” Dylan choked, clearing his throat. “Thanks, Mickey.”

The older man chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t thank me, guys. Just get out of here and enjoy the rest of your night. You’re engaged now, after all. Go celebrate.”

“Thanks,” you hummed again, standing from your seat. Dylan followed your lead, not hesitating to reach out for your hand. Fingers interlocked together, the athlete beginning to lead you to the door.

“Oh, and guys?” Mickey called, making you both halt and turn. Mickey’s lips were straight and tight, his eyes narrowed. The glint was glaring, sending shivers to your spine. “Don’t let this happen again. Next time, I won’t be able to help. We won’t go lenient like this again.”

“Yes, sir,” you said in unison, rushing out the door with a loud thunk, running away from your boss as fast as possible.

His words were bone chilling, and his stare was soul piercing. You didn’t want to test him any further. You were saved once - that was enough already.

Most people, to celebrate their engagement, would pop a bottle of champagne, make a toast, sip the bubbly alcohol until you could feel the bubbles popping down your throat and in your stomach, destroying your inhibitions after splitting the rest of the bottle.

But no.

You were carried to Dylan’s room quickly, the front door barely shut and locked before you were thrown over his shoulder. It didn’t matter that he had played baseball all night. It didn’t matter that he was tired and sore. His adrenaline was pumping and his hormones were through the roof. His erection was obvious in his jeans, a thick rod pressed against the inside of the denim. The outline was prominent, even in the dim light of the house.

His lips were pressed to yours before you could blink, your back laid to his sheets with the man hovering over you. His hips ground to yours, honey colored irises closing in bliss. Your own eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue tracing your sealed lips, prying them open to gain access to your inner cheeks. Your hands roamed up and down the man’s muscled back, scratching at his shirt that stood between your nails and his marked skin.

The kisses you shared were fast and sloppy, his lips dragging down yours before disconnecting with a loud, distinct smack that filled the four walls of the bedroom. Your separation was always short lived, reconnection after a brief intake of air. Tongues tangled together, swirling circles around one another between your cheeks. Noses bumped against each other, teeth clashing. Smack after smack of lips was making your body tremble, ears ringing from the sound. Your legs wanted to rub together to ease the sensation present between them, yet Dylan’s body kept that from happening.

The man leaned back, your lips swollen and red from his relentless assault. Your eyes were glazed over from ecstasy, but you managed to focus on the handsome man above you. His biceps flexed, veins running along his arms that accentuated his skin, making your mouth water. As he crossed his arms, hands taking the ends, the shirt was removed - discarded across the room. He was left bare from the waist up: lean abs glaring at you, perky pink nipples against pale skin - one tiny freckle resting above one, a defined collarbone and shoulders that made your heart race. His Calvin Klein boxers poked out of the band of his jeans, clinging to his v-lines. His muscles twitched whenever he moved.

He pulled yours up next, your hands held above your head while he stripped your shirt off your body, bra following shortly after. The sheets felt cold under your bare back, goosebumps forming on your arms. They grew - they were amplified - with the tender touch of his lips trailing down your body, leaving marks from your neck to your chest, assaulting your breasts with loving kisses. The nipple was drawn between his lips, tongue flicking at the stiff bud restlessly. A veiny hand massaged the other, fondling it in the palm with the pad of his thumb smoothing over the erect peak.

You mewled loudly for him, his name befalling your lips. The graze of his teeth against your skin drove you insane, the man nipping endlessly at your skin. The tug of his lips at your nipple, pulling at it until it was released with a pop, made your head spin, your core throbbing with want. Everything he did made the increasing wetness between your legs more prevalent. Yet, all you could do was tug at his hair, pleading at him for more.

An empty feeling remained when he left your chest, his kisses trailing south. His nimble fingers worked quickly on the shorts hugging you hip, dragging them - panties included - down your slender legs in one swift motion. Dylan received a full view of your dripping pussy, his mouth gaping and wet at the sight. Two long digits ran through your folds, gathering the moisture you had seeped out. The tips toyed with the entrance, your body writhing unhappily.

“Dyl,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes. “Please. I want you. I need you.”

“What do you want, baby? What do you need?”

“Your cock,” you mused quickly.

Dylan pouted, your laugh unable to be released like normal. On every other occasion, you would have loved the way he pouted, calling him adorable and soft. But, you were desperate in that moment for more. “But baby,” he whined, voice low and husky. “I want to taste you so bad. I haven't gotten to indulge in your body in days. I haven’t gotten to taste your sweet juices on my tongue. I want to eat you out so bad.”

“Fine,” you huffed. Your legs wrapped around him, let out a grunt when you forced him to flip over. The man under you didn’t see pleased when he found himself against the mattress, the springs squeaking under yours weights bouncing from the movement. You leaned up his body, your frame flesh against him - chest to chest, hips grinding together with his jeans blocking him from meeting your center. “Then, we can do it this way.”

He wanted to question, but he didn’t. He let you do what you were planning because he knew he wouldn’t be disappointed. He watched you remove his pants without a hitch, his cock erect and free. He loved the idea of your body hovering over him, turning so your wet pussy was in his eyeline, directly above his mouth. It was even better because you were staring right at his shaft, your lips puckered to place kisses at the swollen, red tip.

He was hungry, delving in for his meal before you could sample yours. His tongue dove deep into you, swirling circles between your walls that made your arms weak. A loud moan was heard, silenced when your hand took his shaft, directing it between your cheeks. Dylan loved the way you blew him, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, hollowed cheeks particularly working at the sensitive head of his length. Your tongue always loved two things: the rough patch of the frenulum and the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. The way your tongue slid over them made his legs clench, his abs tighten, and his orgasm imminent.

This was one of his favorite positions because he was able to please you, savoring your taste while you fought back moans, while you pleased him at the same time. It was a win-win scenario, both players hitting a homerun when you were gushing down each other’s throats.

Yet, he was greedy. He loved the taste of you on his tongue. He loved the way your walls tightened, spasming happily while he licked you clean. He loved the way your body quivered when his thumb met your engorged clit, intensifying the feeling his mouth gave you. And he loved the way you felt on his cock, gagging on him while shoving him down your throat like he was your last meal. Your mouth felt tight and wet, your tongue working magic on his male parts. Your hand cupped his balls close to him, juggling between fingers while being held. He loved it all.

But he wanted to be inside you, watching you moan. He wanted to be thrusting into you, watching your tits bounce as he moved. He wanted to fuck you hard and fast, filling your pussy with strings of his seed until you were seeping his white substance.

The downside to having an athlete as a boyfriend? Well… fiancée? He was strong and found it easy to dominate you. When he wanted to be in control, he could easily overpower you. That’s how you found yourself back on the bed, head against the pillow with your legs separated. Dylan sat between them, stroking himself languidly. His shaft was wet thanks to your previous actions, making it easy to work himself to ensure he was hard and ready. The tip was even more red and ready than before, oozing precum from the slit.

“Are you ready, baby?” he rasped, voice deep and husky. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re never going to forget this moment. You’ll be feeling me pounding your tiny little cunt for days. God, I’m going to fill you up so much.”

“Please,” you pleaded, back arching. “Please Dyl. I need you.”

“God, I love when you whine for me,” he let out, leaning down to kiss your lips once. “I love you, baby. You’re all mine.”

“All yours,” you uttered lowly. Your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his head. “Please, Dyl. I need you.”

“What do you want?”

You whimpered, scratching at his scalp. “I need you to fuck me, baby. So hard and so fast. Just the way I love it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he mused.

He was inside you in a matter of seconds, hilt deep and stretching your walls wide. Your moan was drawn out, throat rumbling his name. Your head was thrown back, holding onto him tighter. His large cock filled you to the brim, pulsating inside you to make your insides churn.

He didn’t stay still for long, the man leaning back on his knees to thrust wildly into you. His hips pulled back, snapping back into you roughly. Skin slapped against skin, his hands gripping your thighs to keep your legs separate. Your body jostled against the bed, moaning profusely at the way he made you feel. His cock pistoned in and out of you quickly, the skin soaked with your arousal. The tip hit your sweet spot every time he slid back into you, making your stomach clench. He pounded you into his mattress, shoving himself deep into you.

“Fuck. Yes,” you gasped, weaving your fingers through your hair, arching your back off the bed. Dylan licked his lips, staring at your chest that bounced with his motions. The sight alone made him push harder, thrusting faster than before into you. “Fuck! Right there, baby!”

“God, you’re beautiful when you scream for me,” he let out, biting his lip. “Keep screaming for me baby. It makes me so hard for you.”

His hand dropped from one leg, finding your clit. An electric shock coursed through your body, screaming his name from his simple touch. Harsh circles were rubbed to the nub, amplifying the pleasure you were feeling. You were squirming against the mattress, desperate for release. Your vision was blurry, the combination of his powerful thrusts and his fingers rubbing harshly to your sensitive clit tightening your gut. Your throat was tight, almost unable to breath in the heat of the moment. Sweat coated your skin, the sheets stuck to your skin.

“Dyl,” you panted, eyes clenching. “Oh god, Dyl.”

“That’s right, baby. Say my name,” he grunted. “Are you going to cum?”

“Yes,” you managed to squeak. “I’m cumming. Oh god, I’m cumming!”

Your sight blackened for a bit, body spasming relentlessly. Your walls clung around him, liquid splattering around him. The wet sensation coated him - literally. For the first time in your life, you had squirted upon your orgasm, Dylan’s lower stomach wet from the action. It soaked into the sheets under you, your body slowly beginning to ease. Though he didn’t fill you up, having experienced his own orgasm, his cock throbbed against your walls, enjoying not only the tightness of your pussy and the wetness that came with it, but the experience he was given.

Your eyes cracked open as your high died, staring at the man. His eyes were dark, his hand scratching at his chin like he was pondering what just happened. His tongue slowly eased over his lips. His hips circled against yours, still filling you up.

“You squirted,” he blunted hummed. Your face began to heat up, blushing profusely. “You fucking squirted, baby.”

“I did?” you replied meekly.

“Yeah,” he mused with a smirk. “And fuck, I didn’t know that would be so hot. That was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. God, can you do that again?”

“Really?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow with a smile. “And yet, you didn’t cum yet? It was hot, and you didn’t cum?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty close,” he told you. “If you squirt again, I won’t be able to contain myself.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” you quipped. “I’m ready for round two.”

Dylan’s smile grew, pulling out of you long enough to turn you on your side, resting on his elbow behind you. One leg was draped over his hips, allowing his cock to realign with your core. He tilted your head back to face him, placing a passionate kiss to your lips as he slid back into you.

His hips snapped into you, hips bucking against your backside. His lips continued to attack yours, shielding your moans from the rest of the room. His hand gripped at your chest, squeezing your breast until his knuckles were white. Your body was instantly on fire once again, stomach tight and body weak in his grasp.

His thrusts were sloppy, his orgasm already impending. He was close from before, and the new angle, tight and wet, made it harder to keep himself sane. Thrusting into you from behind, his hand clasp tightly around your breast, he was forced to breathe heavily, nose flaring with each breath. He kissed you incessantly, tongues playing and lips smacking. He was bound to lose to soon, pounding into you as fast as he could. The tip rammed into your g-spot with ease, making your walls hug him tighter.

The hand on your breast slid between your legs, the man thankful your leg was over his hip, your heel hitting his perfectly round backside. His fingers found home on your clit once more, the pads of his fingers skimming over the nub. In his arms, you quivered, shaking from intensity. He was trying to drive you over the edge, your sight beginning to develop black dots and colorful stars.

“Cum for me,” he whispered against your lips. “Cum and squirt for me. Show me how good I make my fiancé feel.”

The way he said it, emphasizing the term, made your heart burst out of your chest. His rhythm, though frantic in nature, picked up, slamming himself into you in desperation. You could feel it - he was close. And you could feel yourself slowly giving in to the ecstasy of love. Your mouth parted, managing to choke out, “only if you cum inside me too,” before going limp in his arm, convulsing in his grasp.

Your legs were wet. The sheets were wet. The liquid went everywhere it felt like. It came gushing out, splashing against his hand as he rubbed at your swollen clit vehemently. Your walls clenched around his cock, ready to milk him dry when he, too, came. Your juices spilled out around him, coating his shaft to make it easier for his wild, animalistic thrusts. His lips met yours, hiding the moans you both wanted to release.

The knot inside him unraveled the second he felt your walls close. The orgasm he had been chasing, yet fighting, was here. Strings of his hot seed shot out in bursts, filling your womb with his warm essence, mixing with yours. Every last drop he had built up poured into you, filling you with love and affection you knew he felt for you - and only you.

His lips slowly left yours, chest heaving with heavy pants. His eyes cracked open slowly, seeing the smile form on your face, your chest mirroring his. He watched your chest rise and fall, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts that kept him hard within you for a moment longer. Slowly, he pulled out of you, cupping himself as he waddled to the bathroom for a wet towel to clean yourselves up with. He took to the time to tenderly wash you himself, showing the softer side of the former playboy only you, and people close to him, got to see.

You felt the bed dip when he sat on it, running his fingers through your sweaty hair. “Who would have thought that seeing you squirt would be the hottest thing in the world?” he teased, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I could live seeing that every day.”

“Did you never make a girl squirt before, O’Brien?”

“No, actually,” he chuckled dryly. “But, I’m glad when I did, it was with you. Because fuck, I’m going to be dreaming about that.”

“Well, you’re stuck with it from now on,” you laughed, rolling onto your stomach, head turned to stare at him. “You really want to be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

Dylan glanced up at the ceiling, leaning back with his arms behind his head. “Years ago, a beautiful woman joined the Mets as our ball girl. She was the most beautiful and talented woman I had ever seen. Yet, I was a dick that fucked around with woman. She made me want to change. That same woman is now my manager and I couldn’t be happier that she is where she is - in my life. And I want her to stay there.

“I love you, my manager girl.”

“I love you too, you dork,” you laughed, pulling him down into a kiss. “You sure have changed a lot since we first met. You’re such a softie now.”

Dylan grinned evilly, forcing back onto your back. His hands trailed up your sides, the man listening to your low moans.

“We can change that.”

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cassoliver · 4 years

Text

new york’s very own cassandra “cass” oliver was spotted on broadway street in reebok club c 85 vintage shoes . your resemblance to sydney sweeney is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-first birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being naive , but also compassionate . i guess being a pisces explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be exposed tan lines , loud laughter , and only ever wearing gold jewelry . ( i slept with one of my co-stars while we were shooting on location, not knowing they had a significant other back home ) & ( cis-female & she / her )

lia takes on a second character TAKE TWO whAT is up you guys , it’s ya girl back at it again with another muse . i randomly got a lot of inspiration for this new girly pop and i feel p good about it ! go ahead and smash that mf like button if you wanna plot ! i can slide into your ims or on discord if that’s more your jam !

S T A T S ↴

– * FULL NAME : cassandra rosemary oliver – NICKNAME(S) : cass ( commonly referred as ), cassie – * AGE : twenty-one – * D.O.B : march 16th – * ZODIAC : pisces – * GENDER : cis-female –* ORIENTATION : bisexual biromantic – * HEIGHT : 5′4″ – * NATIONALITY : american – * BIRTHPLACE : asbury park , new jersey – * OCCUPATION : student + actress – * TRAITS : compassionate, creative, intuitive, gentle, empathetic, fun-loving, naive, whimsical, loyal, subservient, overly emotional, pensive, fearful, overly trusting

B I O G R A P H Y ↴

you’d have to be living under a rock to not know jeremy and elizabeth marie oliver . think brad pitt and angelina jolie , will smith and jada pinkett , or whatever other celebrity IT couple you fancy . jeremy is notoriously known for his acting career that took off in the late 80′s . around the same time , elizabeth marie’s acting / modeling career was taking off across the pond . the iconic duo met through work and quickly fell in love . after their over the top wedding ceremonies ( yes plural . they got married once in jeremy’s hometown in new jersey and then again in elizabeth marie’s hometown in england ). shortly after their holy matrimony , they produced three healthy babies : mason , samuel , and cassandra . there were a few years in between the kiddos , but they were all raised in a tight knit family outside of the limelight in asbury park , new jersey . their parents decided to take a break from working in order to raise their kids . i wish i could say that gave the oliver trio a normal childhood . but it’s kind of hard to go to public school and not draw attention to yourself when your parents are household names . it was hard for cassandra to understand that her parents were super famous and for some reason that meant something to people . if you asked her , there was no reason to get all starstruck over her parents . they were just people after all .

so i guess you could say she had a normal childhood . at least , as normal as one could have with their name and photos constantly plastered all over tabloids . cassandra grew up in a happy and loving environment , which is nice . and with her dad working part time as a professor at his alma mater , juilliard , she and her family bounced back and forth between their coastal home in new jersey and their urban townhouse in new york . and she throughly enjoyed experiencing the best of both worlds . both places felt like home to her and she and her brothers made the best memories together . see , her brothers were her best friends growing up . mason and samuel were five (5) and three (3) years older than her , respectively , and she followed them around everywhere they went . the two boys let her reluctantly at first when mom and dad forced them to but over time it became enjoyable to have her be just another member of their friend group . cassandra was well liked and throughly protected by her brothers and their friends . they shielded her away from all things dangerous : from substances to rude people . this led to a pretty sheltered upbringing . she lived in this little bubble where things were all good all the time .

as she got older , she had to learn to fend for herself a bit more . no longer was she under the watchful gaze of her brothers , for they had rushed into graduating high school early so that they could pursue their own acting careers-- following in line with their infamous parents . having the oliver last name gave them an advantage in the film industry and they ran with that opportunity . meanwhile , cassandra stayed back and took her time . acting was always something she was interested in . there’s no way she could be a member of her household and not dabble in the art at least a little bit . but it wasn’t a top priority to her for a long time . she didn’t want to rely on her family name to get her somewhere in the industry . if she was going to do it , she wanted to do it right . she wanted to earn her place just like anybody else . and if it worked out for her then great ! and if it didn’t , well she prepared a back-up plan . she elected to go to NYU for business instead of studying acting or just bypassing college all together . she figured if all else failed , then she’d start her own company and branch out of the creative arts .

and she took her college career very seriously . she’s studious and hard-working , genuinely enjoying learning new things and having a ‘ normal college experience ’. even though people still look at her funny or talk about her behind her back once they figure out why she looks so gosh darn familiar , she’s come to find that college students are much more chill than the kids that used to bombard her with questions about her famous family on the play ground . most days , cassandra gets by feeling like a completely normal girl . no fame or fortune , just a regular schemgular student trying to get by . and she’d probably gotten away with just melting into the background and never breaking out into the limelight if it wasn’t for one little netflix project she agreed on .

it was just supposed to be another passion project . cassandra had done a few small roles in indie movies at that point . just enough to dip her toes into the movie making world but not enough to drag her away from getting a higher education . but when a script for a new netflix original series was slid in her direction by a family friend turned agent-- well , she just couldn’t put it down ! she loved everything about the show and knew she just had to be a part of it . so she gave up one summer of her life to film OUTER BANKS , not at all thinking that it would blow up the way it did a year later when it premiered . and now news is breaking out that the youngest oliver is finally stepping out into the acting scene , which is warranting a lot of media attention towards her . honestly , she feels pretty good about the project itself . she’s very proud of the show and is incredibly grateful that it’s doing as well as it is . but when it comes to all the notoriety she’s getting because of it , well ... she’s still adjusting to being famous in her own right and not just secondhand through her family . she’s a little overwhelmed . she’s a big girl now that has to navigate through this next chapter of her life without anybody holding her hand or shielding her from the highs and lows of being known . whether or not she thrives in the limelight or crumbles under the pressure is to be determined .

P E R S O N A L I T Y & F U N F A C T S ↴

i think it’s really funny to call her the third franco brother ( yes dave and james have a third brother , his name is tom ). bc like her brothers are essentially mega stars w all the movies they’ve been in at this point and she’s sort of the other sibling that everyone forgets about . y’know until recently lol

she is a giant sweetheart !! just v lovey and kind and empathetic ,, has a warmth to her that makes it feel like it’s summertime all the time

v humble bc she does not consider herself famous what so ever . like being second-hand famous from her family and getting a few extra instagram followers bc of her last name is one thing , but with the success of her current show she’s being put on covers of magazines , being interviewed for teen vogue and stuff like that , getting verified on everything , and gaining hundreds of thousands of followers DAILY . it’s crazy to her

naive in the sense that she’s rlly out here thinking that everyone has a heart as big as hers and has only the best intentions when sadly that might not be the case !! so like ,,,, probs gets taken advantage of and doesn’t even realize it . or messes things up bc she thinks she can just continue living a normal average joe life when in reality her whole life has been far from average ,, the whole world’s got their eye on her and everything she says and does publicly can and will be scrutinized and she is just …. not prepared for that

wants to have a good time and do cool art sh*t !! as long as she’s being creative in some aspect , she’s happy . honestly doesn’t take a lot to make her happy

but also when she gets sad oh boy oh boy does she get sad . pretty much down and out and nothing anyone says or does can make her feel better unfortunately . will just self isolate and you just gotta let her ride it out ://

hobbies include painting , reading , collecting plants , and taking photos

has a second instagram account just for her photography ! @casstookthis lol

lives with her “babies” which are like 10 house plants and all of her books

v family oriented ! goes to visit her parents regularly and talks to her brothers basically daily despite living on two different coasts

acting was always something she knew she wanted to do-- and that may or may not have to do w her parents’ influence and the pressure to follow in their foot steps just like her brothers did

as kids , she and her brothers would work together to put on performances in the living room for their parents . they’d make “short films” and upload them to all 6 of their subscribers on youtube

allergic to cats but wants one so bad ,, has never had a pet in her life actually

the little things amuse her . her sense of humor is really quite simple . hit her w some puns and / or a dad joke and you’ll have her rolling

is learning how to speak mandarin and french

always over-prepared , never underprepared ,, needs to feel like she is capable of handling anything or else she panics

cannot tell a lie to save her life , gets nervous and can’t make eye contact

at any given moment , you can tell what she’s thinking and what she’s feeling just from taking one look at her face . sometimes she tries to mask it because she is an actress after all . but it’s not hard to see through the facade that she puts on if you know her well

hopeless romantic af ! romanticizes everything in life ! loves love in all forms , romantic , platonic , self love , whatever ! looks at the world through rose tinted glasses and heart eyes ! probably falls in love with a person , place , or thing at least 5 times a day !

prefers summer and living near a beach / some body of water over living in the middle of the city . so she’ll often visit back home or go stay with her brothers in LA , not just to be closer to family , but to be more in her element

her family has so many houses simply bc their lives are all over the place ???? like they kept her childhood home in new jersey but they also always had a luxury townhouse in new york plus a summer home in the hamptons and a cottage in england and an apartment in los angeles that her brothers currently reside in . she used to just stay in the townhouse while going to school but she recently bought her own apartment bc she wants to be #independent

might catch her as the lead in a new netflix original movie coming soon *wink wink*

is in love with her best friend east harvey and they’re getting married

WANTED CONNECTIONS PAGE HERE

#wealthyhq:intro #this is short right? i tried to keep it short #but anyways plz love my soft girly pop

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localmagicalboi · 4 years

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1, 2, 3, 4, 14

🌙 @armsdealing. ✨ meme. still accepting!

is your muse a romantic? Do they dream of love and marriage?

vi wants to be married so badly. especially since hes pretty much accomplished a hell of a lot in his life, at this point. dude got multiple college degrees, has traveled to dozens of countries, has been a buddhist monk, and a bunch of other shit. his life is really experience rich. and yeah he’s still pretty young, but he still feels like its time for him to maybe settle down. he wants something that feels really warm and stable. he definitely fantasizes about love and marriage and everything that comes with it, both good and bad. hes such a romantic at heart… like yeah he’s got ‘outspoken, ill tempered tiny bastard syndrome’ but he has so much love to give and he wants someone to receive it.

is your muse a deviant? are they overly flirtatious or forward?

it really depends on the guy. like if the dude is more timid, he probably won’t be ready to jump his bones. dont wanna scare a mf lol. but he can play the dozens if theyre willing to play it back. he’s an awful tease. terrible tease. he’s that kind of flirt that will be waitin at the crib, wearin a see through nightie, and holding a glass of champagne. on the bed. there’s 70s soul music playing in the background.

he has his ways of being forward. he might get a little bossy and coy. or, he’ll be sweet. like i said, it’s really a case-by-case deal. he really caters his flirting methods around the other person. like playing chess. vis strategic. …. however, it never works because rarely is he found attractive. we hate that for him!

is your muse good at kissing? are they experienced?

i wouldn’t say he’s experienced. he’s been in one serious relationship and rarely does his awkward tinder dates end up with kissing or whatever. he has a knack for it, though! he’s very good at kissing.

does your muse initiate a lot of physical contact?

that really depends because sometimes he really doesnt want anyone touchimg him. he gets into these moods and they make him extra sensitive to people touching him. not in a good way. he might get a little snippy and be like ‘hey i need my space, please’ and he wont do any touching but he really can’t help that. other times, he’ll want to be on his boyfriend’s lap and wrapped around him like an octopus???

is your muse more submissive or dominant in a relationship?

he’s not very fond of that scale being uneven. he likes a good balance between submissive and dominant. vis personality, with how bombastic it is, naturally makes him a dominant type. but he loves being submissive. he enjoys a man that’ll like… take charge. outside and inside the bedroom. he likes a man that’ll just grab him by the waist and pull his ass with gusto. he likes his face being held and he likes forced eye-contact lkgjdfl THAT’S SO HOT TO HIM.

if he’s in a relationship with a more shy type of dude, he likes doing that shit to them. and he’s really cruel about it too because he’s so suggestive about it. in terms of like… bedroom stuff. hes a switch. people who call him a ‘twink’ dont know him at all.

#( 🌙 ABOUT! AURA OF CRYSTAL AND SOUL OF THE MOON. ✨ )#armsdealing #/ i tried not to write an essay for these... .so heres the condensed answers... gfldjd.#/ someone MARRY HIM.

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scarlethq · 5 years

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wanted connections,

because i feel so bad approaching people without concepts in mind i’m gonna rattle off a bunch of connections that would make sense in scar’s past ofc if anyone wants one hmu but i’mma use this and send it to people i’m plotting with because i’m mf braindead constant help.

song inspo.

( open / m/f/nb ) enemies, post malone. - the enemies trope, everyone’s gotta have at least one. scarlet is sweet to everyone of course but there are people she doesn’t get along with. especially if they crossed her friends. they really could not like each other for something as petty as scar getting hurt over something stupid that your muse doesn’t even know about ( i.e. what they thought was a joke and she took to heart, cancelling plans. ) -- she’s a sweetheart, but she’s got a temper for sure.

( open / m/f/nb ) good together, SHY martin. - the exes trope, this wouldn’t be like the first relationship. rather, this person and scar knew each other before she went to rehab. possibly someone she spiraled with during that year or maybe someone she knew before it all went down. they left before she really fell into her addiction, but when she got clean they started coming around again. the only problem being that things are so, so much different now. and despite trying to release it scar holds anger toward them, and they hold anger toward her. probably the only person who knows scar’s past without any sort of sugar coat. the only person who can get her really, really angry. also the only person she can comfortably sleep with, because deep down she loves and trusts them.

( open / m/f/nb ) lighter, miley cyrus. - the best friend trope. this person and scar just recently met, sharing a love for driving just to clear their minds. it could have been a party they met at and decided to ditch, or maybe one saw the other in a state of crisis and just knew. now, once a week they take a drive. sometimes, they talk the whole time. sometimes, it’s quiet. sometimes they’re screaming the lyrics to their guilty pleasures. but every time, they leave with the understanding that this is their happy place. outside of this they don’t interact much. whether it’s their busy schedules or just finding it awkward unless they’re in the car is something we can talk about but it can definitely be a sweet and just quietly supportive friendship.

past/present inspo.

( open / f/nb ) first year dorm-mate. this is scarlet’s third year, so possibly another third year who shared the same dorm as her during their first run. they’d know about how strict her parents were, but it’s unclear if she told them why she was under such a cautious eye. it’d be sweet if they did know about what happened, maybe they had a night where scar just broke down. now they have a close connection or maybe oh shit maybe it’s on the rocks because scar doesn’t feel super comfortable now that they know so much about her and what she’s been through. could be an angsty we-were-best-friends-now-you-leave-the-room-any-time-i-enter friendship.....

( open / m/f/nb ) the first relationship. scarlet has cut off all forms of dating now but in the past i’d really like an ex who she thought she could be with, really thought was something special, but she broke it off shortly after getting together because she got scared. they would have never slept together, and that could have been a factor into any tension. but, the twist being it’s all her. the fact she couldn’t get intimate with them being a topic she would bring up a lot, challenging them. along with her refusing to tell them why she was so anti-being-touched.

( open / m/f/nb ) nightly check in. while scar does her usual rounds for people during the morning. dropping off care packages and being everyone’s personal mom. this person is a special case scenario. every night before she goes to her room, she stops by theirs. checking in, helping with anything they may be working on. along with that every night she brings the same three items. their favorite snack, a bottle of water and a movie to watch. this person is incredibly important to her. and it might be oblivious to them both, but she has feelings for them. big mood slow burn.

( open / m/f/nb ) comedy regular. one of the many things she does in her free time is comedy, joining the comedy club to just have a good time and a good laugh, she’s found herself really drawn to the story telling that comes with it. so, one friday night she found a comedy club and began preforming. this person is the only person who knows about the show ( other than teddy. ) and found her entirely by accident. we can talk about if she knows they catch her friday nights. mayb one night she’s not there and they’re like hey wtf and she’s like i KNEW I SAW YOU GOD WTF mood . vibes .

( closed / @virtuosc ) well, it was gonna be a puff piece. since she is in the journalism club i imagine... they have some sort of paper maybe not but imagine your muse and scar started talking because she was gonna write an article about whatever they are interested in ( sports, photography, other clubs ) but then she kept asking the right questions to start to get to know them. then the puff piece became just story telling. them telling her stories, her telling them her own. and they’re still meeting for coffee every saturday, despite her not thinking about the article in weeks.

#wc.#i rambled so hard in this #i'm gonna start messaging people again soon i gotta go socialize with family now #but also finger guns lms if you saw one you liked #i tried to veer from just friends but we can take any concept and expand or change it

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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She Sets the City on Fire - Father Knows Best

She Sets the City on Fire: A Bruce Banner Fanfic

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Square: @brucebannerbingo - U3 Free Space

Rating: E

Warning: Age Gap, asshole parents, anxiety, smut (MF, light ds, oral sex, throat fucking, rough sex, a small amount of spanking, vaginal sex, gags)

Word Count: 4380

Pairing: Bruce Banner x OFC (Summer)

Summary: Bruce is drawn to Summer. She’s everything he wished he could be. Carefree, exciting, and she knows exactly who she is. There are so many reasons a relationship with her wouldn’t work. So why can’t he stop thinking about her?

A/N: On the first chapter

6. Father Knows Best

Bruce and Summer walked up West 88th hand in hand. They were driving out to Westchester so Bruce could meet Summer’s parents. He was nervous. Neither Summer nor Aiden talked about their parents much - at least not with Bruce - but after Tony had hinted it was someone famous, he had looked it up.

Summer’s father was media mogul Chester Martin. The man who’s media empire included every single right-wing and anti-superhero outlet from New York’s Daily Bugle to the Globe-News. It was his publications that helped the government cover up the Hulk and had Bruce listed as public enemy number one and pushed as some kind of global terrorist. With that and what he had heard about him buying affection and ignoring Aidan’s existence for most of his life, Bruce was not foreseeing a warm reception. Bruce was just thankful that he was actually younger than Chester. He could only imagine how much worse it would be if they were from the same generation. Even though the age-gap between Chester and Summer’s mother was over 30 years, Bruce didn’t think that hypocrisy would be enough of a reason to not use the age thing as a reason that Bruce wasn’t good enough for his daughter.

Summer had assured him that there wouldn’t be a problem. That at worse he probably wouldn’t even notice that Bruce was there and that her mother liked everyone and she’d be welcoming to him. Aidan had confirmed that Summer wasn’t lying about her mother, but that there was no way their father would like him. He would pretend for Summer but in Chester’s eyes, no one was good enough for Summer, let alone some middle-aged, liberal, with an anger issue. Aidan had left him one piece of advice, don’t let Chester get him on his own.

“Summer, are you sure what I’m wearing is fine?” He asked for the eighth time that day. He had not been able to decide if he should go formal or casual and ended up landing on a strange mix of both, with navy khakis, a dark purple button-up shirt that he left loose at the collar, a dark brown suit jacket, and because it was cooling off a long black coat. Summer, on the other hand, looked like she stepped off the silver screen in a vintage skirt suit in pale pink wool with black trim.

“You look just like you. And I love you. So he’ll love you.” Summer said, lifting his hand up into the air and spinning under it. “Just relax, Brucie. I’ll protect you.”

They reached the garage where Summer kept her car. A valet came out and she handed him a card. It wasn’t long before he re-emerged driving a vintage MG Roadster in dark burgundy.

“Wow,” Bruce said, as Summer exchanged her keys for a tip. He ran his hand over the hood of the car. “Tony would love this.”

“I’m sure he could afford to buy one if he wanted.” Summer joked.

“Do you think…” He paused and fidgeted with his hands. Tony never let him drive one of his cars and he always wanted to. Tony wasn’t Summer though. Maybe she wouldn’t have that little hang-up about needing to be behind the wheel. “Could I please drive?”

“Can you drive stick?” She asked.

He nodded. “I learned on the run.”

Summer threw him the keys and got into the passenger seat, digging in the glove compartment and pulling out a silk scarf that she wrapped around her hair while Bruce got into the driver's side and started the car.

“This is such a beautiful car,” Bruce said. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a ‘car person’. Not the way Tony was. He wasn’t into the engines or horsepower except for the basic way he was into that kind of science in general. He could appreciate aesthetics though, and the rumble of an engine and the way he just felt like maybe the cool factor might rub off on him just a little. Oh god… was he going through a midlife crisis after all?

“Thanks,” Summer said, hanging her arm over the door. “My dad got it for my 21st.”

“He bought you a car that’s older than you.” Bruce mused.

“It’s older than you too, Grandpa. She’s a ‘63.” Summer teased.

“You got a thing for the elderly?” Bruce teased.

Summer laughed and leaned over, kissing his cheek. “You know it. I’m a grave robber.”

As they drove the 45 minutes to Westchester, Bruce kept stealing glances at Summer. Something about the vintage suit, the scarf around her hair to protect it from the wind and the large round sunglasses she’d put on made her look like a 50s starlet. She was in particularly high spirits today too, which was saying something for the ever carefree Summer. She didn’t stop smiling the entire trip up. Her hand was usually somewhere on Bruce, often sliding it’s way up his inner seam, sometimes on his hand, or playing with his hair.

Summer provided the directions and as they made their way into Westchester the houses just kept getting bigger and bigger and the space between each one became more vast until they became more like compounds than simply mansions. When they reached what was the biggest one yet he turned, entered the code at the gate and drove up the winding drive to the enormous mansion.

They got out of the car and Summer came around and took Bruce’s hand. “He’s nice. I protect you anyway, but he’ll love you.”

Bruce sighed. He wasn’t so sure that they’d think much of each other, to be honest. Chester Martin was a hateful bigot who had no concept of what it was like to struggle at all. How Summer and Aidan had come out of that family even half the decent people they were was impressive, but Bruce was no stranger to good coming out of such bad.

As they made their way up the steps Chester and Abigail came out the front to meet them. Summer let Bruce’s hand go and ran to them, hugging them both tightly. Bruce continued his way up alone and when he finally reached them, Summer pulled back and introduced him.

Abigail greeted Bruce warmly, hugging him and kissing his cheek. She was still quite young, in fact, the thought slipped into his head that Abigail was actually 2 years younger than Bruce was. The thought freaked him out a little bit and he pushed it away and smothered it. Abigale was slender and wore her long red hair in a bun. She had the same clear blue eyes as Summer. In fact, Summer had taken after Abigail to the point it looked like she’d been cloned. Which was good for her really, because as beautiful as her mother was, Chester Martin looked like a bloated, wrinkly toad.

He greeted Bruce with a firm handshake and a patronizing tone. The followed him inside where Bruce met Summer’s sister Dakota. Dakota looked a lot like Summer, though she had the dark hair and eyes of her father. She barely even looked up from her phone when Summer walked in but when Summer said Bruce’s name her eyes snapped up.

“You’re Bruce Banner!” She said, putting her phone away.

“That’s right.” He said, feeling a little awkward. Summer took a seat on a large leather couch and patted the spot beside her.

Dakota immediately moved from where she was sitting and sat down next to Bruce, pressing herself against him. “I didn’t know you were dating an Avenger, Sum. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I told you his name was Bruce,” Summer said.

Dakota leaned towards her sister, her breast pressing against Bruce’s arm. “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t, Dakota,” Summer said.

Dakota sighed and her knuckles brushed up the side of Bruce’s thigh.

Chester took a seat in one of the wing-backed chairs opposite them while Abigail took a more comfortable looking sofa seat next to him.

“How exactly did the two of you meet?” Chester asked.

Thus started the grilling. Most questions seemed to try and pry out how long they’d been dating, what they did when they were together, and how serious they actually were. The amount the Martins seemed to know about their daughter could fit in a thimble. Chester’s questioning seemed to imply that Summer was an innocent young girl and Bruce was just there to corrupt her.

At some point, a staff member came in and poured everyone drinks before disappearing again. After what felt like they’d been questioning forever, Chester looked at his watch. “Girls, can you check and see what’s taking the kitchen so long with lunch?”

Summer jumped to her feet and practically skipped from the room after kissing Bruce on the forehead. Dakota slouched after her. When they were out of earshot, Chester turned to Bruce.

“I am not having my daughter being dragged into your Avengers lifestyle. I know the kind of things Stark gets up to and I don’t want her life to be put in danger for associating with the likes of you,” Chester seethed. “When you leave here today, you will break up with her. You’ll let her down easy, but I don’t want to see you here again.”

Bruce’s heart started hammering in his chest, and he could feel the pulse in his ear and a shove from the Hulk in the back of his head. “E- excuse me?”

“You heard me. How dare you put my daughter in danger of being hurt by that thing inside you?” Chester snapped. “What is she doing with you anyway? She’s a straight-A student, she is above being corrupted by some lecherous middle-aged man. I won’t allow it.”

The hypocrisy was so thick that Bruce could almost taste it. Anger started bubbling up inside him and he couldn’t seem to get it under control. “Don’t you think Summer should get a say in this?”

“No. I don’t.” Chester said. “You will be breaking up with her. If you don’t there will be consequences. And if you think for a second I can’t make your life a living hell, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Bruce’s mind raced. Memories of how the press had treated him when he was on the run mixed with headlines about him hurting Summer. He couldn’t hear anything above the thud of his pulse in his ears. There was a shove from Hulk and he was sucked into the dark.

Hulk roared and swung his fist, shattering the coffee table in front of him. He wasn’t sure where he was exactly or what was wrong. There was no gunfire or explosions to point him at his target. All he knew was that Banner had been angry and scared and it was time for him to step in.

The couple in front of him was backing up against the wall, but the woman who looked so much like pretty Summer hand her hands up in placation. “Please don’t hurt us.”

Hulk huffed. Usually, when they were begging not to be hurt it was a pretty good sign they needed to be. The door crashed open behind him and he spun around and growled. In front of him was pretty Summer and he felt something in him relax a little. Behind her stood a younger girl with dark hair who looked both surprised and scared. He took two steps towards Summer, hoping she might have an answer to why Hulk was here.

“Big guy?” She said, a little confused. She put her hand on his arm and stepped around him, standing in front of him like she wanted to shield him. “What did you do to him?” She yelled.

“Us?” The old man argued. “Your boyfriend just turned into a monster and somehow that’s our fault.”

“Daddy!” Summer snapped. “I know you think I don’t know what you say to the people I bring home. But I do. I hoped you might not be stupid though. What did you say that upset him so much?”

“I told him to break up with you! You’re too good for him Summer! He’s older than your mother!” The man argued.

Summer took a deep breath and balled her hands into tiny fists. Hulk squared up behind her, breathing heavily. “Daddy, I love you, but you can be a huge asshole sometimes.” She turned to Hulk and touched his wrist. “Hey, you want to come outside with me. We have horses. I want to show you.”

Hulk smiled and wrapped his large hand around Summer’s tiny waist. As she led him out of the room, Summer stopped at the girl who was still looking at Hulk stunned. “Can you get some of Daddy’s clothes and bring them out to the stable?” She said quietly.

The girl nodded. “Yeah… yeah okay.”

“Thanks, Dakota,” Summer said and led Hulk outside.

He lumbered after beautiful Summer through the grounds. “I’m sorry about my dad. He can be a bit much.” She said.

“Hulk not mind. Hulk used to it.” He rumbled.

“You shouldn’t be used to it though. It’s mean. Did Bruce get really upset?” She asked.

Hulk nodded. “Puny Banner. Not like being questioned. Hulk here now.”

She led him into a stable and Hulk began to look at the horses. He always liked being around animals. Animals never judged him. The horses all let him pat them and feed them hay. Summer introduced him to each one and gradually Hulk calmed completely and was just enjoying that he got to spend some time with her.

The brown-haired girl showed up with her arms full of clothes. “You think this stuff will be okay?” She asked as she handed them over to Summer.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. Thanks, Dee,” Summer said and put it on a bench. “Hey Big Guy, this is my sister Dakota. Dakota, this is the Hulk.”

Dakota raised her hand in a wave. “Nice to meet you.”

Hulk huffed and nodded his head.

“You’re not scared of him?” Dakota asked her sister.

Summer shook her head and patted Hulk’s hand. “He’s my friend. It’s nice getting to see him. I just wish it wasn’t because of something dad said.”

Dakota shrugged. “You should have seen him with the last guy I bought home. Didn’t even try and chase him off in private.”

Summer giggled. “I get he’s trying to protect us… I just…”

“Yeah…” Dakota agreed and looked up at Hulk. “Can you introduce me to Cap?”

Hulk furrowed his brow. “Don’t know.”

“Dakota, you’re 17! He’s over 100!” Summer yelped.

“Yeah, yeah. And he’s hot as fuck,” Dakota said.

Hulk could feel Bruce niggling at the back of his head and he huffed and put his hand on Summer’s back. “Banner want back. Hulk go.”

Summer leaned up and kissed Hulk’s cheek. “It was nice to see you.”

He nodded and stepped back and sunk back into the dark.

Bruce groaned and blinked around. “Summer?” He said, covering himself with his hands.

Summer grabbed the pile of clothes and gave them to him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Where are we?” Bruce asked.

“The stables. I thought it would be a good way to calm Hulk down,” she explained and looked at Dakota. “You think we can have some alone time?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dakota said, looking Bruce up and down before spinning and heading back to the house.

“Did I hurt anyone?” Bruce asked as he started getting dressed.

“No, Brucie,” Summer said rubbing his back. “Just smashed a coffee table. But he can afford to replace it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said with a sigh. He was starting to think maybe Chester was right after all. Anything could have happened and it would have been his fault.

“No, Bruce. I’m sorry for letting him talk to you like that. I shouldn’t have left you alone,” she said.

He paused as he buttoned up his pants. “Summer, this isn’t your fault.”

Summer wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into his back. “I’m not stupid, Bruce. I know who my dad is. I try and keep him accountable, but he sees me as this… perfect little flower and he doesn’t really listen to anything I actually say. He’s still my dad though. I knew he probably wouldn’t like you. I knew I shouldn’t let him be alone with you. But … it seemed to be going okay. I slipped.”

Bruce turned and pulled her close. “You don’t have to protect me from that. I should be able to keep the anger under control.”

She leaned her forehead against his. “Hulk didn’t hurt anyone. I promise,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go home to bed and start thinking of ways to pretend none of this ever happened,” Bruce said. “But we should probably go back inside. I can’t just run from people like that. Especially not when they’re your family. Because… I love you, Summer. I want you to be my family.”

Summer smiled. “What if… we go to my room first. We can do some of those things first,” she teased. “Besides. I wanted to show you my poster.”

Bruce smiled and kissed her nose. “That sounds really good.”

Summer led him back inside through the back door and upstairs to her bedroom. It was everything he’d hoped it would be. Everything was pink and floral. Shelves were littered with snow globes and ceramic unicorns. There was a twin bed with a white metal frame in the middle of the room with a garish pink, floral bedspread that looked like it came right out of the 1970s. Around the edge of the room acting as a kind of wallpaper-border, were pictures of various scientists, including, Nikola Tesla, Albert Einstein, Ada Lovelace, Alan Turing, and above her bed, a photograph of him.

“Look at that, you weren’t kidding, were you?” He said, looking around at the photos. “If you were so into science, why are you studying classics?”

Summer shrugged. “I liked the history about how the discoveries were made more. The lives of the people who made the grand discoveries. How Évariste Galois died in a duel. And the way Tesla was treated by Eddison. I still cry when I think about how Turing was treated,” she stepped over to Bruce and put her hands on his chest. “How Bruce Banner fell in love with some crazy redhead.”

Bruce chuckled. “I thought you were going to say something about the accident. Or being hunted. Or becoming an Avenger.”

Summer shook her head. “This bit is much more interesting.” She brought her lips to his and they kissed deeply. His arms circled around her and he pulled her tight against him and she began to unbutton his shirt. “Bruce,” she whispered. “I want you to fuck me so hard. Use me like he thinks you must be.”

Bruce choked on air. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, please,” she hummed, kissing just under his ear and pulled his shirt open.

He pulled back and looked at her, “I’ll do my best. With the Hulk out I might have to pull back though.” He said seriously.

“I understand, honey,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

“Now, for me to feel okay about it, you need to be as quiet as you can. Okay, sweet one?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Then take off those clothes and get on your knees.”

Summer pulled back and took off her jacket and blouse. She folded them in half and laid them over her desk. She slipped her shoes off and shimmied out of her pencil skirt. She was wearing a white lace bra with matching thong, a white garter belt and shimmering white stockings Bruce hummed as he looked her up and down and pulled out his cock.

“Look at you,” he growled softly as he pumped his cock. She bit her bottom lip and sunk to her knees in front of him, looking up at him with those clear blue eyes.

She ghosted her lips up his shaft and kitten licked along the slit. Bruce hardened fully and wrapped her hair in his hand. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself. When he let it out he looked down at her and pulled her hair. “Open wide, honey.”

Summer opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. Bruce pushed his cock in past her lips and she closed them around him, engulfing his shaft in the warm, wet of her mouth. She sucked up and down his length with that perfect amount of pressure to send a shiver running up his spine. For a moment he just watched her and enjoyed the way that a dull tingle coiled up through him from his cock.

He pulled her hair back and looked down into her eyes. “Hold still, honey.”

Summer opened her mouth and Bruce began to thrust down her throat. “That’s it,” he purred. “Take it.”

She moaned and gripped his thighs, breathing through the assault on her throat but never gagging or choking. He brought himself right to the edge of orgasm with her mouth. His cock throbbed and his balls tightened, ready to release Just when he thought he’d gone too far, he let her go and pulled back. Summer fell to her hands and knees panting.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “That was so hot, Bruce.”

Bruce helped her to her feet and kissed the side of her neck. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. If it was hot, it was all you.”

She hummed, carding her fingers through his hair and making him purr softly as she unhooked his bra, tossing it aside. “Fuck me hard, Bruce,” she whispered against his ear.

“You be good and stay quiet,” he said and spanked her ass. He spun her around and bent her over the bed. He yanked her thong down, snapping the clasps of her garters as he pulled them down. He crouched as he dragged them down, kissing the insides of her thighs and nuzzling at her pussy. When he stood again he ground against her and palmed her cunt, massaging it and slipping his fingers between her folds. She mewled and wriggled against him, and he grabbed her thighs, tearing her stockings as he pulled her back flush against him.

“Please, Bruce,” Summer whined through clenched teeth. “I want your dick so bad.”

Bruce reached into his pants for his wallet and then remembered that these weren’t his clothes. “Damnit. Summer. I don’t have any protection.”

Summer gripped the sheets and groaned. “Have you been sleeping around?”

Bruce shook his head. “No. Just you.”

“You know you can if you want to,” she said.

“Are we really having this conversation right now?”

Summer started laughing. “Sorry. My last test came back clean and I’ve only been with you since. Cassie went down on me one time and I gave this guy I met at school a handjob, but I used a latex glove So if you want to...”

Bruce blinked and shook his head. “You’re on birth control?”

“Yes, sir,” she purred grinding her dripping cunt back against his cock.

Bruce took a few deep breaths, massaging her ass as he pictured how her cunt would feel as he fucked her raw. His chest rose and fell as he pushed Hulk back, the deep rumble of his primal need pushing against him. He gripped her hips and sunk deep into her.

She groaned and bit the quilt cover as she squeezed her pelvic floor around him, the warmth and wetness of her encompassing his shaft as it pressed down from every side. It was the first time he’d even attempted sex without protection since Betty before the accident and he’d forgotten how different it felt.

“God, Summer. You feel so good,” he groaned.

“Fuck me with that huge cock, Bruce,” she moaned in response.

He leaned over and started to rail into her. She cried out and gripped the sheets as he pounded into her, each thrust, pushed her twin bed across the room a little more. “Summer, quiet,” he growled, spanking her ass.

“Feels so good,” she mewled. “You’re gonna have to gag me.”

He grabbed her panties and shoved them in her mouth to muffle her cries, and she groaned and clenched around him. He picked up his pace, slamming into her and groaning as her cunt massaged his cock. She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit. It made her lose control completely. Her whole body clenched up and she cried out loudly as her cunt spasmed around Bruce’s cock.

“I’m close, Summer,” Bruce moaned. “Where do you want it.”

“Come on my tits, Bruce,” she begged. “Paint me with it.”

Bruce groaned, gritting his teeth as he pulled out. Summer slid off the bed, onto her knees and turned to face him, looking up at him as she squeezed her tits together. He pumped his cock quickly as he looked down at her, completely overcome by lust.

He grunted and released, painting her breasts with hot ropes of come. Summer hummed and ran her fingers through the mess. As he helped her back to her feet she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Bruce said, pulling her into his arms. “With your parents downstairs and right after a Hulk out.”

“I’m a bad girl, Brucie,” she hummed, nuzzling at his neck. “You should punish me next time.”

“Maybe I will, you dirty thing,” Bruce said.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Did you want to get cleaned up and try having lunch with them?”

Bruce nodded. “Yeah. If they’re okay with me being here.”

She looked up at him and frowned a little. “I’m sorry he was like that. You don’t have to see them again if you don’t want to.”

He held her close to him. “No, Summer. I love you so much. I would spend every day with them if it meant I could be with you.”

// NEXT

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