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raccoonspooky · 5 months

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Don't Buy The Entire Pig For Just One Sausage

Bo Sinclair X Fem Reader, NSFW 10k words. Rated E. Y/N Device is not used in this fic. Second Person, Bo POV. Full list of tags on ao3, highlights include: Unsafe sex, stranger sex, Bo is having a great time until he is not. This fic is not kind to Bo. Bimbo! Reader Nothing is safe or sane, consensual yes but hmm..

*Alternative ending included!

You’re overly confident and the dominance you think you deserve is pulled directly out of a delusion. Bo’s sure that it wouldn’t take much to teach you your manners. Someone failed you somewhere down the line. You were either given too much freedom or not enough, and now you’re running about wearing hot pink in biker bars; lifting wallets like some kind of whorish raccoon.

Full fic under the cut, or on ao3!

Last month, the grimy old dive bar Bo frequented for twenty damned years decided to kick the bucket. The place was run by some old git who either was the son or the grandson of the original owner and Bo imagined the fucker just curled up and died in whatever shithole he lived in. Ain't like he had family left to close the place proper, it locked up one night and it’ll stay locked up till someone decides to pry open the casket.

No one ‘round these parts had any concept of legacy to cling to, most folk were just sitting around with their thumbs in their asses, sitting in their graves and watching the world die around them. Figures that this shithole of a bar would eventually run dry. Bitter as he was, Bo knew it was a long time coming. Place was standing longer than most places lasted round these parts, it’d seen the birth and death of multiple nearby towns, it’d seen that big ol fire that burnt down the mill in Ambrose.

It wasn’t all that hard to find another place that suited him, it was closer to Baton Rouge than he would’ve liked but sometimes a man’s got an inherent need to get some pretty thing drunk. Back home, it’d been slim pickings recently; no tourists, no one on the road. Bo was stalking further and further away from home and every inch he stepped away from his front door added a new crick in his neck. One day, he’s gonna put Mama’s dream on the maps and he needs more materials to make it a reality. He’s got work to do and this fuckshit corner of the world is trying his fucking patience.

Sitting in his truck in the parking lot, white-knuckled on the wheel and glowering at nothing in particular —as if his bitterness had hypnotized him into staring blankly into space like a goat— a dancing gut punch of pink floats past his vision and Bo snaps into focus. The single-braincelled goat becomes a coyote in an instant and his fingers uncurl from their death grip on the wheel and finally steps out of his truck. He gives himself a once over in his driver-side window’s mirror before taking his hat off to smooth down his hair. When he first got into his truck, he wasn’t sure where he was going and now he regrets not finding an outfit better suited to picking up chicks.

He sucks his teeth audibly before spitting on the ground after clearing his throat. His skin itches in the way it does whenever he’s got the scent of something good in the air. No one would believe him, but Bo’s always thought that he had some sorta sixth sense on top of all the looks and charm. These blessings keep his dick wet and fill Ambrose with all kindsa new wax neighbors. Mama always said he stole his brother’s face, but Vincent wouldn’t know what to do with it. Dumbshit ‘ain't the same kinda predator he is.

As he heads inside, he sorta elbow pushes the door open while pulling his pants up a little as he looks around for the pink thing that had his arm hair standing on end. He doesn’t see you right away, but he’s already got a picture of you in mind. So far all he knew was that the blur of a person he saw was that it was vaguely feminine, walking stupidly, and likely some kinda whore. The rock solid assumptions are backed by years of work in this field, therefore he’s sure that this night is gonna end up in the exact same way it always does.

The case he’s building on you quickly begins to bloat. First of all, any unaccompanied bitch in a place like this must be some mix of stupid and a slut. The second biggest wedge in the mental piechart that he’s currently working on building is branded with four big bold letters spelling SLUT. You come in here, some dirty fuckin sticky floored joint that smells like sour beer and piss dressed in pink? You lookin’ to suck some hillbilly cock?

Of the few times Bo’s visited this place it’s been full of dusty old bikers and their floppy-tittied old ladies with sour cunts that smell and look like leather. Sometimes he’s seen some real fuckin backwater bushes folk, but girls sure don't frequent this place, sure there's lot lizards and other night stalkers like them but those don’t count as women. They’re more like walking fuckpockets full of rotting meat that’s more or less shaped like a woman.

Mindlessly, Bo finds himself with a cold beer in his hand and a tinge of agitation beginning to blossom behind his left eye. The routine that he’s kept to all these years right now feels like a collar buttoned too high up, one of those stiff starched church shirts where his mama would tie his tie damned near to choking him. He wants to rip it off and run at you like a bull, fuck the rules. It ‘ain't fair to keep someone like him contained by all this bullshit. This is a dog-eat-dog world and he ain’t the bad guy for being the first one to bite most often. Whoever you are? You’re prey and you know it walking in here in what he assumes is a pink dress. Maybe you have a death wish? Maybe you’re one of those dumb sluts who’s coasted through life with batting her eyelashes and shoving your tits at your problems. Over the years, Bo’s mastered breaking apart girls exactly like you, and from the way his throat tastes and the twitch in his eyebrow, he’s sure that you’re exactly what he assumes you are.

Bo saddles himself at the furthest end of the bar where he can get the best viewpoint of the whole place, there’s a pool table to one side and a forever out-of-order cigarette machine that’s got a nest of roaches inside. First time he came in here, he jiggled the machine just to see if anything would come out and a big fat roach fell out of it dead right atop his boot. Everyone else here looks blurred, he’s got tunnel vision and everything he can see, smell, and hear is pushed to the background in favor of setting all his focus on you.

His ears pick up on you before anything else, which is weird ‘cause he sure as fuck took a look at the group behind him and he didn’t see no pink thing in the mess of bald-headed fucks. You jingle as you walk, the sound of metal on metal and clothes shifting together and in another moment. You all but skip past him trailing some skinhead looking motherfucker behind you. Bo didn’t get a look at your face but he got an eyeful of everything else and god damn is there a lot to see. Your boots clip clop on the floor and they cling tight to your calves despite the pointed cowboy toe of ‘em. They’re shiny looking, like the vinyl seating of an old car. Bo’s mind registers legs, naked skin, the general shape of your body, and just as he’s on the cusp of a full thought, the most annoying voice he’s ever heard spouts from your lips and you chirp, “Follow the leader!” with a singsong voice at the asshole behind you.

So far, Bo was right in his assumption about you wearing a dress. Well… it’s some kinda skirt and a little shirt but that’s the same thing. Your lower back’s bare and he can see the hint of a tramp stamp peeking out of your waistband, it’s frilly up top like old lady bloomers or something but it’s got that sorta floaty look like in old movies. It might look old if it wasn't barely covering your ass. Bo’s not taken a single sip out of his beer and all he can do is stare at the back of your hair, dry swallowing and feeling his blood turn acidic in his veins.

Who the fuck are you? You’re like something that crawled right out of a trashy porno and into this shack as if you were summoned by the stench of ball sweat and violence. You sit atop a stool near the bar, sitting on your knees so you can sit higher and lean over toward the grizzled woman working the taps. You squeal something high-pitched and Bo feels his brain rattle against his skull. That fuckin’ noise reminds him of those fish bitches who sing dumbasses to their death, luring them with their fish titties while wailing them to their graves. The tone of your voice is gratingly annoying but he’s already imagining what other kindsa noises you could make. There's a perfect moment between three points of hurt, scared, and needy that Bo’s got several tape recordings of. He’s already thinking of what to label your tape with.

— “Pleaaase? I have to pee so bad and I just got over a bladder infection.” You press your hands together in a mockery of prayer after slamming your giant purse onto the counter with a thud. “You gotta know how it is! Cranberry juice for days and it’s not all that good of a drink when there’s no liquor in it!”

The woman at the bar huffs, surprisingly amused, and Bo glares. He’s tried charming the fuck out of that old gator but he’s never got so much of a twitch of a smile out of her. Old ladies fucking love him and that old bitch was completely immune to everything he was laying on. You continue to beg for a bathroom and it comes to Bo’s attention that sitting like you are, leaning over like that… there’s no way that you’re not just showing your panties to everyone who cares to look. There ain't anyone behind you and he gets up to casually walk your way to take a gander. No one’s looking at him, so he doesn't care to make a show of why he decided to get up and move to a booth directly behind you.

Bo’s convinced that anything he assumes is correct and raking his eyes up your exposed thighs and up to the slope of your ass. Your skirt giving him a good eyeful of ass is all the proof he needs to convince himself that he’s the smartest man in the universe. His assumption that he could take a peek at your panties is correct, sure he had to squint and pretend to pick something up off of the ground but he’s able to see just a hint of white fabric.

Fuck, white panties. Something about ‘em makes his dick jump to life in his pants. You think you’re some kinda sweetheart huh? With the frills in your skirt and your Barbie pink boots, d’ya think you’re some kinda doll? Plastic cunt hidden away by painted on panties? He remembers using scissors to cut the hand off of one of his mama’s childhood dolls; it didn’t have the same thick weight of slicing through meat that Bo’s come to enjoy in the years since then. You’ve probably got dainty lil hands, soft and with manicured nails. Bo’s fist clenches around nothing and he realizes that he left his untouched beer at the corner of the bar. With a huff, he gets up to retrieve his drink and you shout across the L-shaped counter,

“Ha! Pretty boy like you shouldn't be leaving his drink uncovered, c’mon that’s like rule one of being hot.”

In response, Bo coughs. And then he coughs again. He pounds on his chest with his fist and you giggle at him. He’s not looked at your face yet and glaring at you down feels like a nightmare he once had of his mother dragging him through some department store while glitter-faced makeup ladies from the counters laughed and pointed at him for being a grown man holding hands with his mama. What the fuck did you just say? Was that a threat? You think he’s…. pretty?

Instinctively, Bo latches onto the closest semblance of composure he can find,

“Speakin’ from experience sweetheart?” He sneers while finding his seat in the booth again.

You blow him a kiss and the gator behind the counter hands you a key and points. The big guy behind you stumbles and you hop off your stool with a sickly sweet smile that’s almost convincingly real. To anyone less versed in fake smiles, it might’ve gone undetected. Behind you, the guy looks woozy. The guy behind you shuffles as he walks, you stand him in front of the door and he steps away as if uncomfortable and you pull on his belt loop to force him closer. Bo can’t hear your command exactly, but it seems as if you were using the guy to guard the door as you took a piss. Fucking weird.

When the door opens again, you basically slam it into the neanderthal guarding you and he barely reacts. He turns around like a lurching zombie and your face screws up in mock concern.

“Are you feeling okay, big guy? I thought you were gonna show me your Harley!” You leave him for a moment to return the bathroom key and the dude slowly collapses into the nearest seat. You make a show of putting your hands on your hips and huffing, you nudge his boot with your own and sigh when he groans you roll your eyes, big lashes making the expression cartoonish. “Nighty night then lightweight!” You say cheerfully before basically skipping away from him with a big grin on your face. You hold your big bag low at your side and Bo notices for the first time that it’s bulging and looking as if it’s barely able to zip closed.

He can’t take his eyes off of you. Fuck you’re the most annoying thing he’s ever fucking seen. You seem to feel his gaze on you and Bo only challenges your ��I caught you” expression with a raised eyebrow. You’re a fuckin loud ass flamingo with tits, of course he’s looking. Why would you dress like that if you didn’t want people to stare? He tilts his bottle at you, (still barely sipped) in invitation and you prance your ass over to him like a pony.

“Are you gonna buy me a drink? Cause otherwise I’m going home.” Your tone is completely bitchy, and you reach into your dumb little shirt and presumably your bra to dig out a tube of lipgloss. Your lips are already glimmery and Bo takes a slow drink from his bottle while imagining ‘em wrapped around something long and hard. Not everyone has his higher than average people reading skills, but any fuckin’ moron could look at you and determine that you’re good at sucking cock.

“I heard that guys who prefer bottles over cans have daddy issues.” You blow a small bubble with the gum he hadn’t noticed you were chewing and your sentence ends with a snapping noise as you pop it with your teeth. Your lipgloss disappears back into your tits and a lightning strike of rage splinters up his spine. He could slam your face into this fuckin’ table so quickly that you wouldn’t be able to so much as cry about it before you’re choking on your teeth! In a place like this, no cameras, cash only you’d be one more face in a god damned Walmart’s missing people plastic box by the return center you fucking bitch.

Ignoring his facial expression and the general violence radiating out from his person, you sit next to him which cages him into the booth without any escape.

“Where do you get off sayin’ this shit huh?” Bo spits, low and dangerous. You’re so fucking dumb. Usually, Bo’s got a little more tact when it comes to finding someone for one of Vincent’s new projects. He knows how to sweet talk, Bo can put on the fuckin’ ritz for every dumbass type of bitch in the world but you’re tearing apart every bullshit line he could pull on you as if you knew that he was barely keeping it together in the first place. You don’t know fucking shit about him, you’ve got it all twisted around you bitch. He’s reading you, you’re the prey here. Not the other way around.

“Hmm.” You look upward, thinking. “Where do I get off? Ummm…. my bed usually. Where do you? Are you an alley pervert?” You speak before he can. “Oh! No, no ways. You’re like one of those guys who takes sneaky upskirt pics.”

Fucking what? Bo feels like he stumbled into another fucking dimension. “The fuck is wrong with you? Jesus.”

Your laugh is grating, a little nasally. “You seem like a photo guy is all. Everyone has their things. You asked where I got off, so I told you, duh.” You roll your eyes and Bo imagines how good your pretty makeup would look running down your face. You wouldn’t be all that sassy while bleeding out in his basement. The murderous thought is sliced clean through by your suddenly meowing phone, you unzip a pocket of your bag and dig around for a good minute before you find your phone and flip it open to answer the call.

“Nuh-uh!” You partway scream through a laugh as Bo just… stares at you, mouth breathing. He spent every last Thursday of every month buying two lotto tickets and treating himself to a burger and maybe some pussy, and he hadn’t won shit from the lottery in the twenty years he’d kept to the damned ritual, he hadn’t scratched off the tickets yet but with your stupid ass he feels as if he’s got a million dollars folded up in his wallet.

—” Oh you bitch! You did not,” You snort, actually fucking snort. “Did it hurt? What about lube?”

Bo clears his throat and you hold up a finger, “Ugh alright, fineee.” You pout into your phone, “Talk later babes, I forgot there's a guy next to me.” You pause for a moment and then turn to Bo to look at him with an analyzing expression.

“Hmm, he’s like a solid seven. Hot in a DILF way.”

Bo’s breath jumps up a few notches and he feels a growl building in his throat. Something is fucking wrong with you and you’re a gift from fucking god at the same time. He imagines your limp body, legs bruised, blood seeping from beneath you. You’d beg him to kill you in the same way you’re gonna beg for his cock. Bo blows a slow breath through his nose and shifts in his seat, resisting the urge to adjust his dick that’s steadily swelling with blood the more you run your stupid slut mouth.

In a flash of movement, your phone is put away and you unzip your purse just enough to get your hand inside to pull out a worn brown leather wallet. It’s a bizarre contrast compared to the rest of you, it looks cheap but not cheap like you. You smell like dollar store perfume and your jewelry sure as fuck ain't valuable. Getting by as he does, he’s gotten good at figuring out if jewelry and shit is worth any money. You use the tip of your pink rhinestone-adorned talon to dig through the bills in the wallet and your eyes go wide as if surprised to see what was in there. Two twenties are removed and you curl them lengthwise as if offering money to a stripper.

You wiggle the bills toward him and Bo scoots further away from you, scowling. The only thing he wants to do is wrap his fingers around your neck and squeeze, he doesn’t want to waste any words on you because right now they’re in short supply. He’s unraveling at the seams and beneath his exterior he’s an animal thing desperately in need of a good fuck or a good kill.

“C’mon pup, get me a drink? Please? You can keep the change! My treat!” You flutter your eyelashes. Throwing money away like it’s fuckin nothing to a stranger? You don’t seem like a rich girl, but the thought pisses Bo off just the same.

“That ain't your wallet and I ain't a whore.” Bo decides on a safe response to spit out. He’s yet to fully comprehend that you just called him “pup.” as if some sort of mental barrier simply wouldn’t allow him to hear it otherwise he’d suffer a series of incoming strokes.

“Debatable.” You hop out of the booth and you point to the bar while blowing another bubble with your gum. “Something with a cherry in it?”

“Aint no fuckin cherries here girl.”

“Wine..?”

You look so miffed that Bo chuckles, he gets out of the booth and plucks the money from your fingers before pocketing it. It takes a tremendous amount of effort but he manages to even out his breathing. He’ll get what he wants, he’s never learned to be patient but if things go right he shouldn’t have to wait long.

“I got wine at my place.” He offers, putting on his best attempt at charm. If he could just get you back home things would work out perfect and he wouldn’t lose his fucking mind and either fuck you right here or now or break every bone in your body with a fucking audience barely ten feet away.

“Sure!” You grin, “We both know we’re gonna fuck in your car anyways. Might as well pretend it's headed for wining and dining.”

“Confident ‘aintchya?” Since the moment he set eyes on you Bo’s imagined about thirty detailed plans for what he wants to do to you and most of ‘em don't end up all that good for your well-being. He’s never met a girl quite so fuckin glib about shit like this, but he’s beginning to think that you’re missing a handful of marbles and your skull is full of cotton candy and cum instead.

You meet his gaze with big, moony eyes and there's a distinctive moment where your gaze turns sharp. The expression barely surfaced but Bo easily saw the face he’d be wearing if it weren’t for all this stupid pretense. Your big ass bag is hauled up and you hold it in front of yourself, “Carry my purse and maybe I’ll swallow.”

What the fuck would keep him from taking your purse and leaving with it? Your stare oozes nothing but confidence and your smile is an obvious challenge. His cock twitches, more blood surges through him and Bo swallows dryly. He used to volunteer to carry his mama’s purse when he was a kid, mostly cause he wanted to root around in it for candy but secondly, because he liked feeling important. Doing things for her was the only way she’d give him any ounce of positive attention and your tone cuts through him in a way you’d sure as fuck never live long enough to understand. Bo takes the stupid fucking purse and you preen, “That’s a good boy.”

You’re fucking lucky that you mentioned swallowing because otherwise, wrapping his hand around your throat as your mouth’s stuffed with cock and watching your face turn purple and your eyes bulge red sounds pretty goddamned good right now.

Bo has to push past you somewhat as you begin to walk ahead of him, as soon as you’re both in the dirt lot outside, it's clear which car is yours. An eyesore of a blotchily painted rattletrap is parked some ways away, one of its doors is a completely different color and the entire car is tilted as if your tire pressure’s low. There’s no doubt in his mind that if he were to turn on the engine, the entire dash would light up with every light there is.

He leads you to his truck and you giggle, “Man I thought I was driving a real shitbox. Look at this dinosaur!”

Bo’s jaw gives an audible cracking noise and he wrenches the door open to forcibly shove you inside. He doesn’t give a shit if it hurts if your surprised yelp is anything to go by. Your bag is tossed in next and he wastes no time in crawling over the bench seating and forcing your legs up to make room for himself. You’re like a dead bug on its back and he hates that you were right about him being a “photo guy” because he’s sure that he wants to remember you but he hates the idea of proving you right. This part of the show is easy, he feels more in control of the situation now that he’s found out how to get back on track, he’s barely aware of his thoughts as his body remembers who and what he is.

His hold on your thigh relents in favor of working on his belt and you contort your body, sitting with your knees over the back of the seat and your side twists as you unzip your purse. You tut an annoyed tone and then lay back to set your purse on your stomach, you tuck your chin to look into it and the angle causes an avalanche of shit to tumble out onto the floor.

“The fuck are you doing?” Bo grunts out, the conscious flow of thoughts to his brain cut off just about when he saw that blur of pink disappearing into the bar. It’s been weeks without any pussy, nothing’s stopping him from taking it by force, but he wants to savor the motions he has in plan for you. It’s a long ride home and it’d be easier and a hell of a lot less messy if you’d go compliantly. Maybe he’ll keep you around, fuck you for a few days till your cunt’s worn out. That’s the best a girl like you can hope for and that’s the highest offer he’s willing to place on the table.

“Looking for a condom, I dunno where you’ve been!”

Mentioning a condom is an instant boner killer and Bo shakes his head no while watching your purse spill more and more shit out. He sees makeup and a couple of wallets. Two belts, what looks like an entire outfit change, and countless receipt papers. “Girl you’re fucking killing me.”

You scoot a bit, bending and squashing yourself until you can sit up after seemingly giving up on your search. Fluidly, you lean closer into him and up close your perfume is almost cloyingly sweet. It tickles his senses, not enough that he wants to sneeze but enough that he wants more of a sample to determine whether or not he likes it. For someone who looks so sugar-sweet, who wants to smell like a lollipop you’ve sure got a fuckton of presumably stolen wallets. You’re a sticky-fingered little freak and a fucking cunt to match. Easy girls are never good ones, someone like you couldn't have possibly been raised right.

Slowly, your head tilts and you assess his face curiously. Bo only allows it because lately he’s been pushed past desperate, he’s fucking starved and he doesn’t want to know what the fuck comes after he’s skin and bones. He needs this to work out right, he needs a fucking win. It’s been forever since he’s stolen something he wants to play with and without that distraction, his mother finds her way in to bitch and moan at him from beyond the grave.

Your lips slant over his before Bo realizes what you’re doing and his stomach twists in disgust. Kissing is for pussies and your lipgloss is tacky against his mouth. Your tongue tastes like bright citrus, like an orange creamsicle and he feels you manipulate your gum to sit between your teeth and gums. The thought is gross and Bo grimaces against your kiss, you manage to straddle his lap without breaking the kiss, and on instinct his hand reaches to cup your ass, squeezing hard while using his other hand to hold your hip

The candy-mouthed kiss feels all kinds of wrong but pulling away from you is far from his thoughts while you grind your hips down, rubbing yourself against his undone jeans. Your breath hitches when he slides his hand up to one of your tits and he pinches your nipple through your shirt, hoping to hear you complain about it. He’s made aware immediately that your tits are pierced and he’s unable to keep himself from groaning into your mouth. Your pussy could feel like a sandpapered ant hill and he wouldn’t give a single shit about it if you’d let him slot his dick between the perfect tits in his hands. Unfortunately for him, you pull away from the kiss which leaves him fat-lipped and dumb. “It’s a total bummer that we can’t fuck.” You sigh, speaking plainly, sounding almost bored.

“Why not?” He almost spits, his tone takes on defensive but it comes out sounding bitchy. If he was anywhere but here, he wouldn’t have to play this stupid fucking game. He could just take.

“Hello? Weren’t you listening? We need a condom and I can't find one.” You cross your arms, looking every bit the bratty doll that you are. Remembering that doll hand that he severed that got him locked in a fucking cabinet for a day makes his cock throb. His daddy woulda called him a sissy for playing with dolls, but the old man might’ve keeled over and died he caught wind that his son was about to fuck one.

“I haven't slept with anyone since my wife died.” Bo lies, settling on a random story for who knows why. It’s the first thing he landed on and a familiar face he often wears to garner some pity pussy.

“And you’re a forty dollar whore. Maybe your wife was a slut like you are huh?” Your garble out with genuine venom. It’s completely random and Bo blinks at you, surprised by what the fuck you just said.

Your bottom lip quivers and you suddenly slump over him to wail into his neck, he doesn’t know what the hell is happening but he doesn’t fucking care. Not when he can feel the heat of your cunt just a few thin layers away from where he wants you. Your shoulders shake and Bo wonders if he could reach under his seat and find something to get this over with before you’d even know what was happening. He had to have something… a knife, a syringe, a piece of broken glass. Just as quickly as your sniffling came, you sat up with a bright smile though your eyes look blown wide and manic. “Sorry.” You glance to the side, “I hate hearing about other girls. I just went through a breakup and everything still hurts y'know?”

God damn it. For some reason your insanity has his cock barking like a damned dog to get inside of you. If he just slid it in, maybe you wouldn’t notice? Your claws come to curl around his bicep and girl you’ve got a fucking grip on you. You wriggle your hips as if in frustration and Bo finally forces you to sit up so he’s able to reach between your bodies to free his dick. He strokes himself just once and closes his eyes, praying to god that he can hold onto his patience. You’re too good to waste on dumping you in the bayou. You’re a crazy fucking bitch but your mama blessed you with a face worth preserving and a body torn out of his favorite porn searches. Curled over him like this, tucking yourself in to be as small as possible makes it difficult to get at your tits, unfucking fair.

“—I thought he loved me.” You whimper though you confusingly begin to grind on his dick again. “I would’ve been so good, if only he gave me a chance. I would’ve been a wayyy better girlfriend than his slut wife and I wasn’t wrong for putting water in her gas tank. If you’re in love you’ll do anything right? So what about chemical burns and a missing poodle!”

Through your ramble, you readjust yourself and Bo takes the opportunity to pull your panties to the side. He wants to take a look at your pussy but right now it seems like a better idea to treat you like a wild animal, like one wrong move would have his head ripped off. You’re officially one of them one flew over the cuckoo’s nest sorta bitches but Bo can’t give a single fuck about it right now. Your body figures out how to slot his dick between your lips and you sigh, eyes closing, pussy soaking his length as you move. Seeking pleasure even while you continue to run your stupid mouth. On Bo’s end, he barely hears you and he’s pretty sure he mumbled for you to shut the fuck up, though he might’ve choked the sentence to death while fighting back the moan that wanted to croak out of him.

The truck’s cab ‘aint all that big and you lean back, blindly reaching behind yourself to press your palms against the dashboard, your dumb frilly skirt rides up on your thighs and you whimper when you manage to figure out how to move to rub his cockhead against your clit. “Fuck that’s so good,” Your voice comes out small and your face is adorably screwed into a pout.

“Look at me and shut up.”

Stubbornly you shake your head no and your eyes scrunch as if forcing them to stay closed. “No thanks, you’re too pretty.”

Bo lifts you to stand on your knees and takes hold of his shaft to position it between your lips, his cockhead just teasing your entrance. He can’t see your pussy on account of your skirt, Bo supposes he could easily look but little freak shits have been making Barbie get naked for decades and he likes the idea that he’s the first smart fucker who figured out how to use the bitch’s plastic pussy. If he looked, maybe all he’d see is the flat mound that other dolls have.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He finally remembers to speak after letting your previous words marinate. “Your mama drop you on the head or what?”

You open your eyes to glare, “I mean that you’re hot and if you ask nicely I’m gonna do something stupid and let you fuck me like I want you to.”

He can’t help the shudder that racks through him in response, girls ain't supposed to be forward and Barbie sure as hell ‘ain't but call him handsome all you want, he’ll allow it. He leans up to graze his teeth over your collarbone before easing you to raise your arms and get rid of your shirt and the cupless flimsy thing that’s apparently a bra. Your tits spring free and Bo wastes no time in pulling you toward his mouth. His tongue curiously flicks the hardening bud and he’s not shy to nuzzle into the soft flesh against his face. All points of contact of his body against yours are met with soft tits and skin, the slick glide of wet pussy, and hard, cold metal against his tongue.

Vaguely, he’s aware that every man on this planet knows the golden rule about sticking your dick in crazy but no one ever fuckin’ told him that crazy had the most fuckable, ruinable body all done up with perfect tits to match. Even now he’s barely able to resist baser urges, if he can't hurt you in the way he wants, he needs to at least gore out your pretty cunt with his near painfully hard dick.

It’d take a while but he wants to cover you head to fucking toe in cum, his stomach feels tight as if he’s going to cramp up if he doesn't bury himself inside of you right fucking now, his throat works the taste of steel down into his gut and no one would be able to resist you wet and writhing on his dick, telling him he’s attractive and downright begging for him to fuck you. Not even you could fault him for holding your hips and forcing you down to take his cock. He can't find it in him to savor your surprised gasp and the way your body yields, biology taking over delusion. His inner monologue clears away any conscious thought besides a desperate chant of hot-wet-tight.

Everything you are can be summed up in a simple “What the fuck.” Three hard thrusts in and he stammers, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he fights back the pressing urge to blow his load. He needed this more than he knew and your walls squeeze and suck at him as if trying to keep him deep inside of you, reluctant to let go. His fingers dig into your hair and Bo pulls you down to kiss him again, he wants to fuck your mouth with his tongue because he doesn’t have enough cocks to shove one down your throat. Your teeth clack against his and your hand slips on the dash, blindly you reach for the wheel and whatever you did causes the damned thing to click in a way that would normally have him bursting a gasket. All he does is mask a moan with a savage bite to your bottom lip instead.

“W-wait,” You pull away from him panting, “I didn’t give you permission—”

“Nuh-uh. Your pussy was fuckin’ begging for it.” He says smugly, unable to keep the pride out of his voice.

Your brattiness finds its way back from wherever Bo managed to fuck it from you and you cross your arms. “Only my boyfriends get to fuck me raw.” You poke him in the chest, enunciating your words with poke after poke. “You. Are. Not. My. Boyfriend.”

He takes your hand, unable to take you seriously. You’d look so much better with some fucking respect spanked into you, “Who’s your boyfriend? That fucker you left in the bar after you robbed him?” His thrusts slow and you sit up to hold onto his shoulders for leverage as you lift your hips until actually pulling off of him before sinking down inch by inch as if to take in every detail of the undoubtedly perfect fit.

You snort, “I have lots of boyfriends. Just most of ‘em don't know they're mine…”

Bo’s palm finds your lower back, his fingers slip into the waistband of your skirt and he traces the raised texture of your tattoo with his thumb. He’s still not seen it yet, but he wonders if you were dumb enough to get some asshole’s name branded above your ass. Over the years, Bo’s known plenty of stupid and slutty, or slutty and stupid… he’s not yet met a mix of slutty, stupid, and batshit until you. If he knew that girls like you had pussies that felt like they were manufactured for the sole purpose of draining his soul out of his balls, maybe he would’a snagged a girl like you years ago.

“Some of them think they’re taken. They’ll figure it out soon enough,” You continue, snapping your gum again and Bo takes your face in his hand to squish your cheeks and he uses two fingers to physically remove your gum from your mouth. Your only reaction is a pout and he sticks your gum onto your discarded shirt. He would’ve assumed you might’ve bitched about that but you’re already caught up in an incoming rant.

“Nobody’s gonna break my heart never ever again, I’m not gonna let them.”

Ugh, Bo closes his eyes and does his best to ignore your words because he couldn’t give less than a shit about them. Your already piss-poor job at riding him slows even further and you reach next to you for a moment before one of your hands comes to rest on the side of his neck where your nails just barely dip into his hair, your breath is hot against his ear and the unrelenting heat wrapped around him squeezes hard as if for his attention. Your teeth graze against the shell of his ear and the smallest murmur of a moan escapes his involuntarily parted lips.

“Do you wanna be my boyfriend, pretty boy?” You whisper, and your sharp nails curl around to the back of his neck, “I’ll be good to you, let you fuck me whenever you want. You can cum inside right now if you say yes…”

With a mind of its own his cock twitches inside of you, agreeing to any and all unspoken terms. All you fucking do is run your mouth and half of what comes out of it ‘aint fit for a lady and the other half is batshit insanity. You don’t get to claim him you dumb whore, but he can play along for now. If he can bite back the twisting wave of hate, all he has to do is behave for thirty-some miles back to the house. Once you’re in Ambrose, you’ll play by his rules and learn your fucking place. You’re overly confident and the dominance you think you deserve is pulled directly out of a delusion. Bo’s sure that it wouldn’t take much to teach you your manners. Someone failed you somewhere down the line, you were either given too much freedom or not enough, and now you’re running about wearing hot pink in biker bars and lifting wallets like some kind of whorish raccoon.

He can domesticate you. He’s always been decent at fixing shit, and he wants to put you back together so it’ll be all the more satisfying when he breaks you apart. Of course, he nods to your question, he’d be a right fuckin fool to say otherwise.

“Ah-ah,” You tut, “Out loud. Tell me.” The hand not on him shifts next to your side.

Lying is one of the things Bo does best. It’s effortless to look at you and spread a slow smile over his lips like sizzling butter sliding toward the edge of a pan, it’s greasy but it melts easily. He schmoozes hard enough to tilt his head to press his lips against your inner wrist. “I ain’t makin no promises tonight darlin’, let's get to know each other huh? Tell ya what, if you come back to my place tonight, I’ll take you out tomorrow.” His tone drips and oozes.

“A date?” You gasp, grinning. “Oh! That’s great! And here I was, ready to ride you at gunpoint till you said you’d be my boyfriend! This works out so much better, I think you’re gonna be my favorite.”

Bo jolts with the first mention of the word gun and you bring your right hand up, finger on the trigger of a cutesy little derringer that you must’ve pulled out of your purse. You didn’t have a condom but you had a gun? He’d wonder what was wrong with you if it weren't for his kit of zip-ties, xylazine, and duct tape beneath the seat. Instinct tells him to fight, to wrench your arm back until it cracks. You point the thing at him, squinting an eye closed and he feels as if some sense of self preservation should activate. “Bang bang!” You laugh, finger still on the damned trigger and Bo’s stomach flips, his cock surges and he growls, frustrated with the fact that you’re just sitting on him as his dick all but begs for movement. He should give you a taste of your own medicine, show you his own kit of weapons if you’re so excited to play show and tell…

The gun in your hand is so ridiculously small, it looks like a toy and you’ve seemingly stuck a few stickers to it here and there. Hello Kitty adorns the tiny barrel and a yellow dog thing decorates the handle. You’re so… stupid, god it’s like you can’t get any dumber, any more ridiculous, and then here you are, sitting on his dick and demanding that he hand himself over to you on a silver platter. You’re fucking lucky that he’s desperate, if he wasn’t so starved for an ounce of pussy this might’ve ended the moment you stepped outside the bar. Your body would’ve been hauled limp into his truck bed. You had no idea who he was, but he knew everything about you. his nostrils flare and his pulse races every screaming ounce of his sanity tells him to get rid of you because it’d be a mercy to put you down. Y’aint right, you’re fucked in the head… you’re a violent, demanding little psycho bitch who throws pussy around like you don’t care where it ends up and—

Bo unleashes an almost animal noise as the frustration building inside of his gut erupts into sparking violence. Your wrist is cruelly twisted and your fingers spread out to drop your weapon, Bo picks you up to slam you down onto your back, he thrusts back inside of you and the instant gratification nearly has his eyes rolling back in his head. Sure, you’re meant to take cock but you sure as fuck aren't supposed to take it while thinking that you get to decide whether or not it's for your benefit or his. No. He decides whether or not you’ll get it and bitch you’ve been asking for it since your stupid ass got dressed and got in your ridiculous fucking car to drive down here.

“Mm… You’re strong huh?” Your giggle clips into a moan, your weapon falls to the floor and you don’t pay it a second glance. Of course, you’re vocal. Hell, likely no one’s ever told you to shut up before tonight. Bracing himself with one knee on the seat and one knee on the ground, he uses the back of the seat for leverage while the other finds your throat. Feels fucking good to squeeze down, it’s just a taste of what he wants to do to you but for now, it’s enough. You choke on a half-spoken syllable, and every time he drives back into your cunt it’s as if the longer you’re without air, the wetter your sloppy pussy gets.

“Y’like it when it hurts sweetheart?” He lets up from your throat and you suck down needy lungfuls of oxygen. You only grin dumbly, neither confirming or denying his question or maybe you just didn’t hear him. Your body is unfair, your tits bounce against the force of his thrusts and he wishes he had some way of recording this. You’re all smiles, eyes half-lidded as if loving this treatment. Your body seems to understand what it’s made for even if your mind’s skipping around the maypole twirling a gun by the trigger around your fingers while thinking you’re anything but a living fuckdoll. Absently, Bo wonders if your so-called boyfriends ever thought of lobotomizing you or if he’s the first genius to cook up the idea. He can’t imagine being able to stand being around you for more than a parking lot fuck. Good ol’ Doctor Sinclair’s still got a handful of tools in his dusty old office. Maybe that’ll be step one into your redesign.

Whoever you were going on about must be some sorta delusion of yours because there ain't no way in hell that any man could listen to you and submit to whatever stupid bullshit you demand of him. Your pussy’s too tight, too perfect to have been stretched over anyone else. Hell, anyone besides him wouldn’t be man enough to take on a piece of work like you. Bo’s always wanted a fucktoy who ain't got right or reason to think herself a person and with a body like yours, you might as well be the best bet for a walking, talking cocksleeve.

Thinking about you floating through his house all dreamy-eyed and soft smiles, constantly available and with nowhere to go, your dollar store perfume a permanent feature of the place seems so fucking right. Hell, he can get rid of you whenever he feels like but Bo thrives on having goals. He might not want that forever but it might be nice for a while. If he plays his cards right, you might not even need the good ol icepick to the eye socket.

“You like my cock better than your “boyfriends”?” Bo emphasizes his disbelief in the concept and your sleepy fuckdrunk eyes brighten into coherence. Your lips twist and you bite your lip, thinking and Bo immediately regrets asking.

“Third maybe? We’ll have to try out some other things before I’m sure.”

“Wrong answer sweetheart, try again.” He sneers, hating how he’s been biting back his orgasm since the first thrust inside of you.

“But—” Whatever you were going to say is cut off with an open palmed slap to your cheek. He didn’t hit hard, there wasn’t any wind back but your attitude changes in an instant. You blink up at him, wide-eyed and your mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Your expression just about melts and you shudder beneath him, breath kicking into little high-pitched gasps. That’s it, Bo can just about see the pretty little fuckdoll right beneath your skin. You just needed someone to put in the work.

Your inner walls constrict and Bo grunts, feeling as if your cunt already knows who it belongs to and it doesn’t need to be taught a thing about being a good girl for him. Your legs twitch outward with an almost funny tremor and after another savage thrust, your back arches upward and you hiccup out a jumble of broken sounds that coagulate into a throaty, low moan. The moment your orgasm began to build in intensity was the breaking point of Bo’s pulled-thin restraint, a lightning strike of heat spits through his cock and he buries it deep inside of you with a feral need to drive impossibly deeper into your body. He can't stop, he can’t keep going, his orgasm seems pissed at him for the fact that it’d been too long since the last cumdump and he pulls out of you, groaning only to immediately thrust back inside because the loss of your body is an almost jarring sensation.

“Christ” Is all he can say as his brain threatens to leak out of his nose.

You hum, looking up with starry eyes and you speak after a long moment of quiet. “Did you like it?”

Bo takes a deep breath, “What kind of stupid question is that?”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together excitedly, “I wasn’t sure what I stole from that douche I roofied, figured it looked like coke so I decided to take a test run on it when I went to the bathroom.”

After coming as hard as he did, Bo can barely comprehend what you’re saying. You’re everything he’s been raised to hate and he sits up to lazily stroke his flagging shaft, already wondering if he can force his way into another quickie.

“I’ve never been able to come without anyone touching my clit before, so I think a little bit of coke in my pussy definitely did the trick.”

Immediately, his eyes threaten to bulge out of his head, and a vein bulges on the side of his neck. “Wh—” His shock turns to anger and Bo shoves you, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck!” The world around him threatens to cave in, crushing his skull with the weight of a lifetime of American morals and a Christian upbringing.

“I told you that I wanted a condom. You’re the one who decided to fuck me like a rabid dog! And I loved it, but you have no right to be pissed at me, pretty boy.”

Pretty boy feels like an insult and the truck cab that’s usually his happy place begins to feel like a coffin that’s steadily being covered in dirt. Genuine dread keeps Bo tight-lipped and quiet. Someone needs to do something about you but you’re vermin rather than prey. You’re a pest. Despite the cold shoulder, you roll your eyes and laugh right in his face. “Are you seriously mad? You’re so cute!” Your bottom lip juts out obnoxiously, “It’s a joke! I’ve tried that before, it’s only good for like thirty seconds.” You giggle and for some god-awful reason, a hateful breath of heat tickles his cheeks. He’s not embarrassed if that’s what you’re getting at.

You pull your shirt over your head without your bra and do your best to get the gum off of it, the wad of orange is tossed to the ground and your purse makes a weird beeping noise. Looking like Winne the damned Pooh, pantsless and likely dripping cum onto his seat, you pick up a bright blue egg-shaped thing from the floor and press two yellow buttons.

“Ugh!” You whine in a high-pitched wound of a noise, “My Tamagotchi died! I take a ten-minute fuck break and the little shit poops itself to death!” The little egg’s screen is shoved into his face and Bo grabs your wrist, glaring.

“God damn it girl, how much of a dicking do you need for you to shut the hell up?” You don’t seem to think you need to respond to his words and you take a moment to pull out a pad of paper from your ridiculous garbage bag purse you hum while scribbling a few things down. When you’re finished the sheet is torn out and you place it in his lap, after patting it a few times.

“The fuck is that?”

“Read it if you’re so curious!”

He swallows the number of things he wants to say in response and Bo picks up the paper, he reads as far as the list’s header before crumpling the paper up and throwing it behind himself. The only thing he needed to read was “Rules of being my Boyfriend.” and that was enough.

You’re more or less dressed soon enough, all your shit is hastily stuffed back into your bag. “Can I get a goodbye kiss?”

“You’re sayin’ goodbye? Thought you were coming back to my place?”

You answer with a laugh, “Oh, you’re adorable. I’m not that dumb pretty boy.”

Bo sneers, patience broken and he hastily reaches over you to push the lock down on your door. It clicks satisfyingly and the incoming sense of gratification has his tone dripping toward bitchy. “Nah, here’s the thing sweetheart. I thought we had a damned agreement.”

“Oh! We do! I wrote it up for you!” You respond cheerily as if not quite understanding the threat you’re under.

He’s not listening, Bo grabs you by the hair with the intent of either knocking you out via asphyxiation or slamming your forehead into the dashboard. The violence he’d been uselessly sitting on all night roars to life and—

Something velcro rips apart and cold metal is shoved beneath his ribs, moving faster than what should be possible. A button clicks and his vision warbles in and out before splintering like glass. Piece by piece it all begins to crash and cut him apart and he chokes on a gasp, tongue feeling too thick to let him open his mouth to suck a lungful of air down his throat.

His door is forced open and you hop out, once again reduced into a pink blur of a person, and a sparking pink rectangle spits lightning, still sharply crackling in your hand. Through insurmountable effort, he manages to force his body to slump forward and just as he regains the general concept of feeling his fingers and toes, a cloud of stinging, whipping heat seemingly rips through his eyes and mouth and he gags, coughing on the gaseous fire that seems to get worse the longer his mouth stays open.

“Oh, I really wish you hadn’t grabbed me like that. I hate when guys get handsy!” The sound of a zipper is the only thing he can discern, Bo tries to open his eyes only to be met with another dose of wet acid that begins to melt his flesh from his bones. Fuck it fucking hurts.

“Toodles babe!” You chirp, “Pleaaase read that paper you crumpled. It’s got my number on it! Rule number one to being my boyfriend, call me or else!” The last word of your sentence is heavily emphasized but Bo barely hears you, all he can do is curl up into a ball to rub his involuntarily leaking eyes into his seat, his freshly tased mind is only able to rely on instinct rather than conscious thought.

Gravel crunches beneath your boots and you walk away unhurriedly, the general pattern of your footsteps is off kilter as if you’re skipping. “Call me!” You yell from a distance repeating yourself for emphasis, “Don’t make me say or else again! No other girls, No fucking around! I’ll know!”

Your sing-song voice is a tornado siren and Bo can’t help but feel as if he just stuck his dick in the eye of a storm. Everything hurts. He can’t see, his mouth and nose are on fire and his bones feel as if he shook hands with god. You’ll be hearin’ from him alright, count your blessings there sweetheart.

ALT ENDING (If you told the truth over whether or not you actually bewitched him with pussy cocaine)

Course you're a druggie. Figures. You're everything he's been bred to hate and you used him. Violated him as if his body was yours to ruin. He feels dirty for the first time in his life.

“Rule number one of being my boyfriend means you have to kiss me.” You wave your hand in front of Bo’s face and all he sees is buzzing flies and rot. Every southern superstition he ever laughed at currently taunts him in his mama’s tone and inflection. She spent her life warning him about how easily the devil finds its way inside of you and he never thought it would feel so fucking good to let it in.

“Okie Doke,” You quip after hearing no response. “You’ll call me then. Rule number two.” You tap the paper on his thigh. Bo wonders where your sissy little pistol went and if he’d still get a usable corpse out of you if he plugged a bullet through your skull but he knows that a clean kill won't be enough for him.

He fucked up. He was stupid and strayed too far from home and look where the fuck he ended up. Already, he wants more of you, and every deluded thought he had about making you his still felt like the best idea he ever had. Fuck you for taking that from him and fuck you in general. Your stupid bag unzips and the distinctive sound of a knife flipping open pulls him from his trance.

Quickly, you hop out of his truck and before he can think to react, you shove a pink, automatic switchblade into his fucking tire. It sinks in again and again as if you’re somehow used to knifing tires.

The dread withers away into animal rage and Bo launches out of his vehicle, seeing blood red pulsing in his vision.

“There’s a three-strike rule! It’s on the paper!” You yell, running at a full speed away, your stupid platformed shoes thwacking the ground while Bo lumbers after you with his pants undone and every nerve ending in his body on fire. Usually, he likes a good chase. He likes to win, but you’ve already scored several points over his tally, and at first, it was cute but now it ain't acceptable anymore.

“Strike one, you didn’t wanna kiss me… so you don’t get a tire! It’s only fair!” You stop running once reaching your car and Bo cracks his neck, thanking god for your stupid little brain for thinking the chase is over. You might think this is a game, but it sure as fuck aint a game to him. Your purse is dumped in your passenger seat and before you can close your door Bo shoves his hand in the way, which hurts but he reacts only by flaring his nostrils. Using every ounce of strength Bo fights to wrench your door open but you let go, causing him to stumble backward.

The hammer to your dumb little pistol clicks backward and you smile, “I’m sorry! Ugh I hate fighting on first dates, it’s uncute.” You turn your key in the ignition and your engine sounds like a croaking frog, subconsciously he’s sure that your radiator’s fucked just from the sound of it but right now he cares about killing, not cars.

“ I promise I’m gonna be good to you.” Your voice is pleading, “Don’t worry! Now walk back to your truck like a good boy now,” Your fingers wiggle and you jut your chin toward his truck, “These things are hard to aim and it’s only gonna kill you if you’re up close. I’m running low on boyfriends so I’d really hate to have to shoot you. That’s usually a third date thing!”

The little gun only has two bullets in it and Bo rushes you with a growl, hoping to catch you off guard. There’s a low chance you’ll get him bad enough to kill him and—

Your pink knife finds its way home right above his knee and Bo crumples. You take his moment of shock to slam your door. His leg refuses to respond to the urgency of the situation, he can move it but it comes with blinding pain that intensifies as you peel out of the parking lot. The way he fell seemed to have dug the blade in deeper and he can only yell in outraged agony as your trashy pink car gets smaller and smaller in the distance.

Thanks for reading all this! I opened a year old single paged draft and just spat out 10k words lmao. I love the idea of this bitch in his home, Tamagotchi beeping like the fkn telltale heart like just fkn HAUNTING him and he doesn't know where the beeping is from. I also love the idea of her smelling some other cheapo perfume on him and having a fkn meltdown because she'd NEVER wear such a trashy perfume!! Like she's fine with the MURDERING but how dare he even look at another vaguely feminine person, he's a cheating!!! HORRIBLE PERSON!! Jail! Jail for boyfriend #5 for one thousand years!

#House of Wax #House of Wax 2005 #HOW fanfic #house of wax fanfiction #Bo sinclair x Reader #Bo Sinclair #Slashers #Slasher Fandom #Slasher Community #Poki writing

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Chapter 9: Closer

...in which Ezi has her first kiss.

Word count: 5.4k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Please tell me what you think about the chapter! Reblog if you could :)

“Do you know why there’s a true love’s kiss and not a true love’s hug?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I was asking you.”

Harry sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He had to keep his eyes on the road, but Ezi would keep distracting him with her shifting in her seat every two seconds and rambling on about silly topics he had no interest in. However, he’d promised to not be a dick whenever she talked to him, so he wouldn’t.

“Can’t you see that I’m driving?”

“So?” Ezi snorted. “Just answer the question.”

Harry sighed again. “I guess that’s because a kiss is more special than a hug...romantically.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Why not not? You’re just exchanging saliva.”

“It’s special if you’re exchanging saliva with someone you care about.”

Ezi still wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. “Okay, but what if the person won’t let you kiss them? How will you know if it’s true love?”

“If they don’t want to kiss you, it means they’re not interested, and therefore, it’s not true love,” Harry said. He couldn’t believe he was actually giving this some thought, but oh well, it was a long drive to the manor anyway. “For me at least,” he added, “true love must come from both sides.” Then he stole a glance at her and did a double-take. “Are you taking notes on your phone?”

Ezi flinched and put her phone into her bag right when she made eye contact with him. “No.”

“Liar. You were.”

“I’m learning to be human.”

“Just say you wanna kiss me.” Harry smirked. “We’re the only people here. This is a safe space.”

“It’s never a safe space when you’re in it,” Ezi said.

Harry’s eyebrows went high. “Excuse me? Yesterday you almost attacked a child for cutting the line in the supermarket.”

Ezi gave a firm nod without showing any remorse. “And the child would have deserved it. You, on the other hand, are deadly with your words.”

“How?!” cried Harry. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since we started fake dating.”

Ezi rolled her eyes and checked her watch. “Yeah, your new record of being nice to me is two hours. Congrats.”

Harry exhaled, his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I think we should go over what to do when we see my mum, because if we act like this in front of her--”

“Why are we seeing your mother again?”

“Didn’t Jeff tell you?”

Ezi shook her head. She seemed quite confused, so Harry guessed Jeff had forgotten. To be honest, Harry found it funny and a little concerning that she had no idea why she was in the car after having been in the car for two hours. Someone could just kidnap her one day, and she wouldn’t even realise until they told her it was a kidnap. Or, maybe she just trusted him not to drive her to a government lab and donate her organs to science.

“Well, Jeff wants some new PR content of you hanging out with my family,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked, face scrunched up.

He lifted his shoulders. “To humanise you.”

“Good luck with that,” Ezi scoffed, rested her elbow on the window on her side and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “It takes a lot to humanise me.”

“Well, not literally. Just in the public eye, because a lot of people suspect that this is a PR relationship. We’ve only been seen together as friends or co-workers.”

“That’s not true. We’re not even friends.”

“Exactly!” Harry exclaimed. “So if we can convince my mother that we’re dating, we can convince the whole world. Trust me.”

Harry didn’t even exaggerate it; his mother could detect a lie from miles away. He could count the number of times he’d got away with a lie to her on one hand. However, he had never lied to her about being in a relationship. So hopefully, she’d be too happy with the thought of him not being a player like his dad to tell the whole thing was fake.

And so for the rest of the drive, he and Ezi tried acting out scenarios for when they met his mother again. They broke out laughing most of the time because Harry would say something too cheesy or Ezi would use some lines she’d learned from those Netflix originals that Harry had rated one star. Now that they were standing on the steps of the manor, they had to keep it together. Because no one would shout ‘cut!’ if they messed up their lines. This was almost like going in for a blind audition, and Harry knew his mother would be the toughest judge to impress.

“Harold!”

“Niall?” Harry’s eyes went wide when his best friend shoved the butler aside and embraced Harry at the door. Mikasa, Niall’s girlfriend, was standing right behind him, wearing a dark green satin dress that fell loosely to her knees. She gave Harry a lopsided smile, her black curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approached.

Harry hadn’t talked to her for weeks, but he assumed she already knew about Ezi. Hopefully just as much as his mother did. Unless Niall had broken the bro code and told Mikasa everything.

“Mimi, long time no see!” Harry said as he went in for a hug.

Mikasa eyed him up and down with her big smokey eyes. He always imagined those eyes having a special power that enabled her to stare right into his soul and read him like an unsealed letter. She was a psychiatrist and always making her friends feel like they were having a regular session in her office.

“So this is your girlfriend?” Mikasa asked, smiling at Ezi.

Harry’s gaze jumped to Niall, who subtly locked his lips with an invisible key and tossed it over his shoulder. Niall knew about the PR relationship, but Harry could always trust Niall not to tell anyone, even Mikasa. Especially Mikasa.

“Darling, you made it!” exclaimed Harry’s mother as she descended the stairs. Harry was just going in for a hug when he saw who were following behind her. And he froze.

Dawson and evil Aunt Beatrice. Dawson was wearing a simple black suit, completely made invisible by his mother in the tackiest neon orange sundress Harry had ever seen. He could hear his stylish crying just from seeing this outfit.

“What are they doing here, Mum?” Harry quietly asked his mother as they hugged.

His mother kissed his cheek and whispered back, “Since you invited Niall and Mikasa, I thought I should invite Dawson and his mother.”

“How is that the same thing?”

“Harry!” Aunt Beatrice said in her glass-breaking voice as she pulled him in for a suffocating bear hug. “Ah, you grew up so fast! I hardly recognise you!”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, Aunt Beatrice.”

“I know, right? Kids these days.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Harry,” Harry’s mother reminded him, so Harry took a deep breath and went to stand beside Ezi. She looked at him like a deer in front of headlights. This couldn’t be good. His family must be overwhelming for her.

“Hey, Ezili!” Dawson waved at her with a smile, and suddenly, her face brightened, and she enthusiastically waved back. Traitorous little fish, Harry thought as he watched the two greet one another.

“Congratulations, you two,” Dawson said.

Ezi opened her mouth to reply when Harry threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back to his side. He gave Dawson the best grin he could fake. “Thanks,” was all he said.

“Picture, everyone!” Niall interrupted the awkward interaction and pulled out his phone.

Everyone gathered together, and Niall winked at Harry. “Now, Mother Styles, could you stand closer to Ezili? Closer! Thanks. There we go. Looks like Ezili’s a part of the family.”

Once the picture was taken, he nudged Harry with his shoulder. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

Harry patted him on the back. “Send it to Jeff for me.”

“Boys, are you coming?” asked Mikasa, who was walking ahead, holding Ezi’s hand.

“Coming, lovebug!” Niall shouted at her and told Harry. “See? She likes Ezili.”

“So what do you do for a living?” was the first question Harry’s mother asked Ezili when they sat down at the lunch table. They were eating in a glass house in the flower garden by the lake. There were people dressed in uniforms serving them tea and appetizers, and Ezili felt like she was Alice having tea with the Queen of Hearts and her courtiers in Wonderland.

“I work at a bookstore,” she said when one of the maids filled her cup with Jasmine tea.

She didn’t understand Harry’s mother’s appalled reaction and why Harry had to add, “Ezi owns a bookstore.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Harry’s mother said, sounding strangely relieved.

Irritated, Ezili leaned in and whispered to Harry, “Why did you lie?”

But he didn’t answer and only shushed her before smiling at his mother again.

“Can’t believe I get to live to see Harry bring home a young lady!” said Aunt Beatrice. Dawson opened his mouth to interject, but she didn’t give him a chance, “I always thought you were gay!”

At that, Niall choked on his tea, and Mikasa had to rub his back as he coughed violently into his fist. Ezili knew what gay meant, but why was it a bad thing?

“What if I were?” Harry asked his aunt. “I don’t see the problem with me being gay, which I’m not.”

“These biscuits are so nice, Aunt Annalise,” Dawson told Harry’s mother, probably trying to save the conversation from turning into a fight. But it seemed like Dawson’s mother was out for blood this morning.

“Harry,” Aunt Beatrice started again, and Ezili saw Mikasa and Niall sink into their chairs. “You’re a celebrity and the heir to this manor and your father's business. It’s so...unexpected of you to be dating some girl who works in a bookstore.”

Ezili wasn’t dumb. She might not understand a lot of things humans said, but she knew sarcasm like her mother tongue. It was her time to say something.

“What’s wrong with working in a bookstore?” she asked, making direct eye contact with Aunt Beatrice, who was shocked by the question. Everyone at the table seemed to be holding their breath.

“How much could you possibly do and make by owning a bookstore these days?” Aunt Beatrice laughed.

Ezili smirked and shook her head. “You could do and make a lot if you knew how to read.”

Harry kicked Ezili’s foot under the table, but she didn’t pay him a single glance. She believed she’d said nothing wrong at all. It was only the truth. Because why look down on people who worked at a bookstore unless you hated books because you couldn’t read?

Seeing his mother’s face turning red, Dawson burst out laughing. “Oh my God, she’s so funny!” Mikasa and Niall started laughing, too, and Harry’s mother awkwardly joined in.

“That’s what they call dark humour, Aunt Beatrice,” Niall told the angry giant lady. “Ezi’s a true Gen Z. She’s all jokes.”

Aunt Beatrice said nothing else. She shot a glare at a smiling Ezili and lifted her cup to take a sip.

“Oh, there’s my new cook!” said Harry’s mother as she waved at the door. “This is Dolores' first day at work. Come say hello, Dolores dear.”

“Good morning. I hope everyone’s having a wonderful time.”

Ezili’s entire body went stiff. Her eyes almost popped out of her head and dropped onto the plate in front of her. She knew that voice. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage as she held her breath. She felt the person’s presence beside her heavy like a weight ready to crush her bones into dust. Out of the corner of her eyes, she looked up.

Her sister Koa was grinning down at her.

“Ezili, are you okay?” Dawson asked, snapping Ezili out of her numbness.

Koa’s devilish grin remained as she circled the table after wishing everyone a pleasant meal, then disappeared out of the entrance.

Why was she here? Why did she have legs? How had she found Ezili?

“Okay, let's get straight to the point,” Aunt Beatrice started again, and everyone groaned at once. “How much did he pay you?”

“Mum!” cried Dawson.

“Excuse me?” Harry arched an eyebrow.

“It’s PR, isn’t it?” Aunt Beatrice said to him. Ezili was having a hard time paying attention to the argument while her heart was still pounding in her head. Her sister was here, either for her, or after her.

“You can’t do that to your mother, Harry,” Dawson’s mother went on. “She might be easily fooled but I’m not.”

“We should’ve gone for mini-golf,” Mikasa muttered to Niall, who exhaled into his hand.

Harry turned to his mother. “You’re just gonna let her disrespect my girlfriend like that?”

His mother opened her mouth to speak, but his aunt was faster. “If she’s your girlfriend then kiss her.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry scoffed and threw his hands in the air.

Ezili immediately stood up. All eyes fell on her.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I must go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll take you--”

“No, Harry, you stay.”

Harry slowly sat back down as Ezili pushed her chair out and headed straight for the door. Thankfully, he didn’t follow her.

She crossed the garden and asked one of the employees where the kitchen was. As it turned out, they had a separate kitchen for when they served food in the glasshouse. Ezili couldn’t see the point of having more than one kitchen, but this was no time to question it.

When she found Koa, no one else was there but them. It seemed as if Koa had known Ezili would follow her here, so she’d asked everyone else to leave.

Ezili stood at the door while her sister stood by the counter with her back turned to Ezili. The first thing Ezili noticed was the knives within Koa’s reach. Ezili must be wise when confronting her sister.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Koa in Séren.

Koa slowly turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I’m a cook. Can't you see?”

“How did you find me?”

The corner of Koa’s lips curled as she unbuttoned the collar of her white shirt and revealed a gold necklace. Ezili sucked in a breath when she saw the shiny trident-shaped medallion on her sister’s chest.

“Is that--”

“Mother’s trident,” Koa sneered. “Yes, it is.” Then she buttoned up her shirt to cover it. “Now we can see who mother trusts more.”

“Why--”

“Aunt Nerissa came for a visit last week,” Koa said. Ezili knew that name could never be associated with anything good. “Mother doesn’t trust her, so she asked me to go on land to find you, but also to keep the trident away from Nerissa’s clutches.”

Ezili swallowed hard, her fists tightly glued to her sides. “What happened to the cook?”

Koa clicked her tongue. “She’s swimming with fishes now. Like the ones swimming in her pot just then.”

“You drowned her?!”

“In the lake.”

Ezili gripped her head and advanced towards Koa. “How many humans have you killed?”

Koa chuckled and took a few steps forward until she was dangerously close enough to hurt Ezili. She stood with her back straight and arms folded, her silver eyes flickering in the sunlight. “The important question is…” She stared Ezili down. “How many have you killed?” Ezili bit her lip when Koa poked her chest with her long nail. “Or are you too busy dating now? People are talking about it everywhere.” Ezili said nothing, so Koa went on, “It’s a fake relationship, isn’t it?” She leaned in, taunting. “Come on, Sister. Admit that you’ve failed. That you can’t make the human fall in love with you. Why so quiet? Is it because if you admit it, you’re an embarrassment and you lose the trident to me, and if you deny it, then it means you’re becoming way too human to kill him.”

At that, Ezili shoved Koa away and stabbed a finger at her. “Leave me alone. Mother gave me a year for this mission.”

“We won’t have that much time, stupid,” Koa snorted. “Narissa is onto something. The queendom is already in danger as we’re speaking. And you’re here having...brunch?” She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Pathetic.”

“Ezi?”

Both of them whipped their heads around and saw Harry, who stiffened in the doorway.

“Ezi?” Koa cackled, hugging her stomach. “Is that your human name? Are you his pet now?”

Though confused, Harry stepped into the kitchen anyway. “Ezi, you’re alright?”

“Harry, watch out!” Ezili shouted, but Koa was already on top of Harry on the floor. She sank her fangs into Harry’s arm with the rolled-up sleeve. Harry yelped in pain as Ezili dragged her sister off of him and slammed Koa’s head against the table. Hissing, Koa grabbed a knife on the counter and aimed it at Ezili, but Ezili was fast enough to kick it out of her sister’s grip and sent one more kick into Koa’s stomach. Koa was stronger than Ezili had thought as she plunged at Ezili again.

“Harry, run!”

But Harry didn’t run. He was back on his feet, grabbed a vase and smashed it onto Koa’s back. “Do not hurt my fake girlfriend!”

Koa rolled off of Ezili. The last thing Ezili could see was her sister’s bloodied face as she stumbled towards the door and ran off into the light.

Ezili lay there until her vision cleared again, and Harry helped her back to her feet.

“What the fuck?!” he yelled. “Who the fuck was she?!”

“My sister,” Ezili said, still holding her aching head.

“The one who tried to drown me? Why is she here?”

“To kill me, I think.”

“Why?”

“Harry--”

But Harry wasn’t listening. He was pacing back and forth like a mad man. “This isn’t good, Ezi. This is bad! Your crazy sister is gonna expose us!”

“Expose us?” Ezili grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. “She almost killed you.”

It seemed as if Harry had forgotten that his arm was bleeding until Ezili had brought it up. He suddenly winced and fell into a chair.

Ezili scanned her eyes around the messy kitchen, panting as she tried to make sure that Koa had escaped. Then, she got down on her knees beside Harry and reached for his wounded arm.

He stared down at her in confusion, then his expression turned horrified when she leaned in.

“What the fuck?!” he hissed and yanked his arm away.

She glared up at him in annoyance. “Let me help!”

“Hell no! You’re not gonna lick my blood.”

“You need to clean the wound!”

“With water! Not by sucking it!”

Ezili huffed and aggressively got up while silently cursing Harry in Séren.

“There’s a--” His voice cut off when she tore off a piece of her dress “--towel over there,” he trailed off. She ignored him and went to the sink to soak the piece of fabric in water. He shook his head and blew up his cheeks. “Nevermind. You do you.”

Still glaring at him when she returned, Ezili got back down on her knees and started cleaning Harry’s arm. The place her sister had sunk her fangs into had turned dark red. It would definitely leave a huge bruise tomorrow.

“Lucky for you Koa was distracted and didn’t aim to bite your whole arm off,” Ezili whispered and glanced up, meeting Harry’s gaze. “You sure you don’t want me to lick your wound?”

“Well, now that you’re already in this position, you could just lick something else,” he chuckled.

Ezili’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

To her confusion, Harry covered his face and shook with laughter. “Sorry, that was a dumb joke. I just couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“Yeah, that’s how a joke loses its funny,” he sighed then snapped his fingers. “Ooh, maybe I should just pretend that I don’t understand whenever someone tells me a joke, so that they gradually lose their funny.”

“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard,” Ezili remarked.

“What do you mean?” Harry pouted. “I don’t get it, babe.”

Ezili rolled her eyes at his childishness, still, she couldn’t help but smile a little.

Once she had wrapped the piece of her dress securely around his arm, Harry pulled down the sleeve to cover it as he got to his feet. “That should do. Let’s hope my mother won’t suspect that we just got attacked in her kitchen by her cook, who was your evil siren sister in disguise. Damn, that sounds crazy even for me.”

Ezili stood with her arms crossed. “Do you think your mother can tell we’re not really dating?”

“Nah, my mother totally believes it.” Harry shrugged. “Honestly, I think we’re doing a great job pretending we’re in love when we can’t even have a conversation without insulting each other.”

“I don’t get paid enough to call you babe so many times.”

“Neither do I. This PR relationship is harder than I tho--”

Harry’s sentence got cut off by a sound at the door. When they both turned to it, Dawson was standing there, his eyes wide with shock.

Ezili was hoping that was the reaction to the messy kitchen and not to what she and Harry had said. However, luck wasn’t smiling at her tonight. Dawson’s appalled gaze jumped from Harry to Ezili. “What do you mean by ‘PR relationship’?”

“I can explain,” Ezi said, reaching for Dawson, but he backed away while staring at both her and Harry in disbelief. Harry believed Dawson wasn’t shocked that Harry could pull something like this, because Harry hadn’t been exactly the good kid growing up. What Dawson hadn’t expected was Ezi being part of this plan. Ezi must be an angel in Dawson’s eyes.

“So my mother was right,” Dawson said, flicking his finger between Harry and Ezi. “You were lying to everyone.”

“Dawson--” Ezi began, but Harry pulled her back by her wrist.

“Please don’t tell my mother,” he told Dawson and received stunned looks from both Dawson and Ezi. They probably hadn’t expected that coming from him. “This means a lot to her, and I don’t want her to be any more let down,” Harry continued. “Also, Ezi needs money, and I’m just trying to help. She’s also writing the next album with me, so it’s all good business.”

Dawson peered at both their faces for a long moment as if he was psychoanalysing each of them. Then, he breathed, “So you two don't have feelings for each other?”

“No.” Ezi shook her head fast and tugged at Harry’s sleeve. “Harry, tell him.”

Harry opened his mouth. Suddenly, he thought about how frightened he’d been when he’d thought Ezi’s sister was going to kill her. He could’ve run off and let her deal with it alone since he hadn’t asked to be part of her family drama, and he wasn’t brave, either. Nevertheless, he’d jumped in to help her.

“No,” he said, only to realise he shouldn’t have taken such a long pause to say only one word.

“See?” Ezi smiled at Dawson, who seemed less sceptical now.

“Okay,” Dawson said, his face relaxed as he put his hands on his hips. “Who else knows? Niall and Mikasa?”

“Mikasa doesn’t know,” Harry said. “Only Niall.”

“Alright.” Dawson nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But you guys are really bad at pretending to be in love,” he told them after another moment. “I’ll try to tell my mum to stop being rude to you. But just to be safe, you should make it more convincing.”

Ezi heaved a sigh of relief and placed her hand on Dawson’s arm. Harry swore he saw Dawson hold his breath as if Ezi had the Midas touch, and Harry had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

“Thank you, Dawson,” Ezi said in the softest tone Harry had ever heard.

“Your dress,” Dawson pointed out while eyeing her and then the kitchen. “What...what happened here?”

“There was a rat,” Harry blurted.

Ezi joined in, “Harry tried to kill it then it knocked over the vase, and I fell and pulled him down with me and ripped my dress on the glass.”

Dawson furrowed his brows as he nodded at the piece of Ezi’s dress in her fist. “That’s your blood?”

Ezi shook her head. “It’s the rat’s.” Then, she looked over at Harry, suppressing a grin. He stayed quiet and glared at her.

“Oh, God. That’s disgusting,” Dawson made a face. “Need me to help you clean up?”

“No, I’ll take care of it,” Harry said. “I’ll take Ezi upstairs to clean up. Could you distract everyone for a while?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dawson nodded, gave Ezi a tight-lipped smile and turned to the door. “Now, where the hell is the cook?”

Harry could hear every single word of the Jonas Brothers song playing downstairs. It seemed like everyone had finished brunch without him and Ezi, and now Niall was turning the manor into a concert. Niall and Mikasa had met at a Jonas Brothers’ concert years ago, and they would not let people forget about it. What they had was cute, but Harry could not imagine being with someone for that long. A PR relationship was tiring enough; he didn’t think he could ever handle a real one.

Back against the wall, he stared at his watch and tapped his foot impatiently before he came to knock on the door to his mother’s walk-in closet. “Ezi, are you done?”

“I don’t know how to put this on!”

Harry tossed his head back and groaned. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah!”

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath. “Cover yourself. I’m coming in.”

Just to be safe, he had his hand over his eyes when he opened the door.

You'll say my name like it's been on your lips

Familiar in ways I can't explain

You got a heart that I know I can miss

Hold me like that and pull me right back again

The music outside became muffled. Harry peeked through the gap between his fingers, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Ezi standing there topless with only jeans on. “I told you to cover yourself!”

“Oh, please, there’s nothing you haven’t seen.”

“It’s different every time.”

“How? I’ve only got one body.”

“No, seeing you feels different every time. It’s weird.”

Time stands still and it's only us

What we feel started way before we ever touched

Just imagine only us

Yeah, you found me right before I'd given up

Ezi said nothing, and Harry lowered his hand, feeling glad that she was facing away from him now. She looked over her shoulder, frowning. “Help me with this shirt!”

He ruffled his hair and padded over to take the shirt from her hand. “You got the button stuck?! This is my mother’s favourite Chanel shirt!”

“It was like that when I found it.”

“Liar.” Harry shook his head and started examining the stuck button. Ezi turned around, hugging her chest so her breasts weren’t exposed to him. He was trying his best not to look. Maybe he shouldn’t have put her in a dress that didn’t require a bra. He guessed he’d played himself.

“Harry.”

“Damn, maybe I should get you another shirt and buy a new one for my mum. I don't know how to fix this.”

“Harry,” Ezi repeated and tapped Harry on the arm. He looked up, face heating when he saw her.

I just saw the lightning strike

Knew it right then when I looked in your eyes

And I said to myself, "It's no surprise we ain't strangers"

Strangers tonight

Still, he acted indifferent. “What?”

“I think we should kiss,” she said, making him flinch.

“Why?” He was already sweating through his palms. His mother’s shirt could no longer be saved now.

“To make it more convincing,” Ezi said as if them kissing wasn’t a big deal to her. “Maybe if there’s a picture of us kissing--”

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

She froze at the question and blinked at him.

I came here looking for another excuse

To run away from something beautiful

It's like it's driving me closer to you

Every step back pulls me right back

At this question, Ezi’s whole life up until that point flashed before her eyes. She had lost count of all the times she’d kissed sailors before drowning them. But she wasn’t going to kiss Harry to kill him. Not yet at least. He would still be there, alive, when she opened her eyes. He would still be aware of her lips against his. And she would, too.

“No,” she lied.

And he believed it. He cleared his throat. Suddenly, her standing there topless wasn’t weird anymore. “Okay, it’s pretty easy.” He put the shirt aside. His fingers were shaking so he opened and closed his fists a few times before beckoning her over. “Come here.”

She took a step forward.

“Closer.”

Another step.

Harry’s face reddened with a small smile. “Ezi, closer.”

He’d never talked to her in that tone before. It was soft and firm at the same time, and she completely forgot having sworn to herself that she would never let him tell her what to do. She came so close she could not tell his breath from her own. His eyelids fluttered, and his pink lips parted, yet no word escaped. Then, he leaned in.

Must be from a different life

Been here before and it just feels right

No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers

Strangers tonight

But it was her who took his face between her hands and kissed him first. He froze for a second, then started kissing her back, his arms circled around her waist, pressing her against him.

Harry’s entire body grew hot. The voice inside his head told him to stop, but it only made him bolder. He liked that she’d taken charge. Her hands were under his shirt as his roamed across her naked back. His eyes went wide when she unconsciously let out a moan.

Strangers

Strangers tonight

“Ezi,” he breathed against her lips. But before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door.

“Harry, are you in there?”

Ezi pulled away as Harry threw his head back and exhaled harshly. “Yes, Niall?”

“Is Ezili there with you?”

“Yes,” Harry answered in a croaked voice and quickly cleared his throat. “Yes,” he repeated, sounding more stable. “Why?”

“You missed all the fun stuff. Your mother scolded your aunt for what she’d said to you and Ezi, and Dawson had to take his mother’s home.”

Harry looked over at Ezi, expecting her to be thrilled by the good news, but she only gave a small smile, her arms still tightly wrapped around herself to cover her breasts. Was she...shy?

Yes, yes she was. Ezi didn’t think she could ever be shy. But here she stood, blushing all over from a stupid kiss.

“Are they in there?” Harry’s mother’s voice outside the door made Harry and Ezi jump.

They looked at each other, scared when Niall told Harry’s mum that they were in the closet together.

“Not in my closet, Harry!”

“I’m just helping Ezi get changed, Mum!”

“You better!”

And then their footsteps faded down the hallway, along with his mother’s laughter.

Ezi and Harry made eye contact with each other and looked away at the same time as silence ensued. Suddenly, Harry started sniffing.

“What is it?” Ezi asked, worried.

Harry leaned in and started sniffing her neck, and she pushed him away. “What the hell?!”

“You smell.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.” Harry shook his head fast. “You smell good. But..you didn’t have a smell before.”

Ezi quickly lifted her arm to smell herself. “I smell nothing.”

“That’s because it’s your own smell, so you don't recognise it. But--” Harry cut off midsentence and picked up a strand of her hair and brought his nose to it. Then, his lips curled. “Aww, my kiss turned you a little more human.”

“Shut up!” Ezi shoved at his chest. “I’m not turning more human! That’s not true!”

“It is true! Kiss me again. I’ll prove it.”

She said nothing, only glared at him as he burst out laughing and tossed her a t-shirt.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles imagines #harry styles x mc #harry styles fic

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hotdamnhunnam · 4 years

Text

Jax Teller: How to Suck a Dick

A/N: Because that Jax quote “teach you how to suck a dick” made me fucking implode and just needs to be written into a fic 🥵 Reader is a badass bitch in this, but ends up on her knees in front of him because she can’t resist...

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, Jax being bossy as fuck as you give him a blowjob (obvs)

Word Count: ~2.5k

What kind of suck-ass town goes by the name of Charming, you can’t help but think, rolling your eyes with an exasperated sigh as you drive by the tacky welcome sign. This has to be the most pathetic gig you’ve ever been assigned. It just feels wrong. You haven’t been an ATF agent for long, but even though you’re new and young, you have already been established as the baddest bitch in your entire unit. And yet here you are stuck in some redneck dump, America’s goddamned armpit. This is absolute bullshit. Fucking bullshit.

Your team had decided to send you in since the first agent assigned here was royally screwing it up. How is that even possible with such a pointless job? Apparently Charming’s problem is a wannabe gang of white trash biker boys who like riding around town all day just to make noise and show off their big shiny toys.

When you arrive on the scene to take over the case from your idiot colleague, you’re hardly surprised to find him in a close confrontation with one of those guys. One of those dickhead bikers for sure—you can tell from the crude, cocky sound of his voice.

You can’t see much of him from where your car is pulling in. Just a leather vest and loose jeans and a dumb blonde I-don’t-care haircut that he must think makes him look so fucking cool. God, what a tool.

As you step out of the driver’s seat and strut toward the two men, you hear the biker hurling insults at your fellow agent. “They teach you how to suck a dick in ATF school?”

Reaching for your badge as you approach, you’re all prepared to whip it out with class and grace, and put the damn fool in his place. “No, but they taught us how to...” your voice then catches in your throat, when you lay eyes for the first time upon his face—the badge immediately slips out of your grip, one word stuttering off your lips. “... f-fuck.”

So much for class and grace. No such luck.

The bastard’s stupidly blue eyes flash up toward you, somehow piercing through your clothes, and you are seriously screwed. He’s not gonna let you live down how you finished that sentence with ‘fuck’ just a second ago. “Oh, is that so?”

Oh shit. Oh no. Do you have legal clearance to shoot him just for his audaciously gorgeous appearance? You hope so. That’d be such a waste of a fine piece of ass, though...

The golden boy shamelessly checks you out up and down, gaze twinkling, drinking you in. Then proceeds to remind you about the embarrassing fumble that just happened. “Looks like you dropped something, darlin’....”

Darlin’?? Darlin’?!?!? Ugh, the fucking nerve of him! You clear your throat, trying and failing to compose yourself. Glance at the badge that had so clumsily tumbled onto the road. “Yeah, I—uh... I saw.”

“Nah, not the badge. No one cares about that,” he goes on with a mischievous smirk and a shake of his painfully pretty head. “I meant your jaw.”

At that, your jaw drops even further for a minute. Fucking shit. This guy is radiating so much big dick energy you cannot even handle it.

You want to, though. You want to handle all of it. And he already knows.

“Let me get that for ya.” He gestures down casually at your badge on the street. “Bet you’d like that, huh? Squat down and give you an excuse to check out my ass, too?”

Oh, this is too much. Your sense of self-righteousness bubbles to the surface and erupts. “Listen, you—”

“Think you can tell me what to do?”

“Damn right.”

“Darlin’, I’d like to see you try.”

“You call me darlin’ one more time and I...”

Meanwhile the other fed is standing by, speechless and shooting you some mad side-eye.

The biker interrupts. “You’ll what?”

The thirst you feel for him is so real that you’re bound to lose this battle, choking on a puddle of your own drool, if you try to keep this up. So you just bend down to retrieve your badge and play it cool, keeping your stupid mouth shut.

But then the motherfucker has the nerve to say the hottest goddamn thing you’ve ever heard. “Yeah, that’s right. Shut up and bend over, slut.”

At this point your pussy is throbbing in heat. You’re lucky that you somehow manage not to trip over your own feet and fall facedown on the street.

The other agent finally speaks up in your defense. You wish he wouldn’t. “Look here, asshole—I know you’ve got a massive problem with authority and all, but she...”

“Problem with authority? Oh, I don’t got a problem when it looks that pretty.” The biker’s blue eyes are on you again as you stand up unsteadily, struggling to gather up your dignity. “I just need both of you to know you ain’t got nothing on SAMCRO. Sure as hell ain’t got shit on me.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you huff, casually whipping out a pair of handcuffs, hoping you can channel your inner boss bitch back again. “This case is mine now and I’m here to bring your dumb ass in for questioning. So you’re gonna stow that big overgrown ego and come with me to the station. Don’t make me use these.”

The glint of metal from the cuffs reflects and sparkles in those gorgeous eyes of his, as if they weren’t already sparkling enough. “Ohh, what a tease...” he banters playfully. “You know before the day is over you’re the one who’s gonna end up on your knees?”

Of course you know. You know exactly how this day is gonna go. This badass biker stud is gonna turn you into his cocksucking slut and teach you how to blow him till you fucking choke.

***************

Two minutes later, you and Jax Teller—even his name, as you found out along the way, is hot as hell—are pulling up into the nearest motel.

“Well, well,” he snickers from the backseat of your squad car, no doubt picking up on how painfully horny you are. “So much for heading to the station...”

“Shut up. I’m impatient.”

“Since when do feds take care of questioning in crap motels, darlin’?”

“I told you not to call me that again.”

“You think I’d listen?”

No, of course you didn’t.

Two more minutes later and you’re finally in a room alone with him. Burning with the desire to rip his clothes off and devour him limb from limb...

Jax shuts the door and swaggers over toward you. “So tell me, agent. What’d you bring me here to do?”

God, that cunt-soaking smirk on his face is awakening all of your deepest kinks. “What do you think?”

“Well, we both know it ain’t for questioning...” he reckons, walking up to where you’re standing. “I think it has something to do with you hearing me talk about teaching you how to suck dick.”

You visibly squirm at the sound of him saying those words again. “Oh, you cocky son of a bitch...”

His smirk widens into a grin, as he comes closer, close enough for you to feel the heat of him against your skin. “I put the cock in cocky, baby.”

Ugh, shut up and put that cock in me.

You don’t say that out loud, not yet; instead you summon all the strength you have to step back just a bit, standing with both hands on your hips. Pretending while you can that you are still the boss. “Okay, hot shot. Enough talk—time to show me what you got. Let’s see.”

Jax doesn’t waste another minute. Licks his sinfully pink lips, already getting off on just how desperate you are for this. “All right, darlin’. If you insist...”

The next few seconds feel like a slow-motion blur, of blue jeans and white boxers falling to the floor. You’re already panting like a whore. Eager for all your wildest wet dreams to come true...

There are no words for the sensation that consumes you as Jax Teller’s cock finally comes into view. It’s motherfucking huge. And not just big—it’s goddamn stunning—the most perfect shade of pink, heavy and thick, prominent veins coursing along its luscious length, exuding raw power and strength... In every way, it’s even more amazing than you had imagined.

And it shows. Jax Teller knows that his cock is perfection and that he’s a god among men. Calls you out on your gawking reaction. “There goes that jaw dropping again.”

You roll your eyes at that, though honestly they were already rolling in bliss to the back of your head. “You and my jaw... what’re you gonna fucking do about it, huh?”

He comes closer, dominating you already with the force of his blue gaze, your heartbeat hastening with every word he says and every move he makes. “Fuck your face till it breaks.”

That’s all it takes. Next thing you know you’re on your knees, just as he knew you would inevitably be. “Oh God, yes, please...”

With one strong hand he takes a firm grip of your head, the other wrapped around his dick, to keep its distance from your lips, leaving your gaping mouth just hanging in the space between his legs. “Darlin’, you’re gonna have to beg.”

Oh fuck—you need him now, so bad you can’t...

Jax goads you on. “That’s step one. Tell me what you want.”

Whatever words you’re even capable of forming, you just blurt them out. “I want that big beautiful cock inside my mouth. Right fucking now.”

“Think you deserve this dick?”

You honestly don’t give a shit. “I need it—”

“Greedy bitch,” he teases, swiping it against your lips, letting your tongue flick out to slurp all over it and lick the sweet droplet of precum off the tip.

One lick and you’re a fucking addict. “Holy shit, Jax... dick is not supposed to taste like that.”

He lets out a cocky rumble of a laugh. “Like what? Best piece of meat you ever had?”

“God, you are so bad...”

“Look who’s talkin’, slut,” he says. “Federal agent on your fucking knees in front of me. Supposed to be working a case, instead you’re begging me to fuck your filthy whore face.”

You’ve never heard anyone talk so goddamn dirty. Fuck, it’s making you so thirsty. You go on begging for just a few more seconds, till Jax finally thinks you're worthy, though you know that really nobody could ever be.

He talks you through step two: using your tongue and lips to literally worship his entire dick, from base to tip, kissing and licking every fucking perfect inch of it, slicking it up with a sloppy mess of juices, his delicious precum mixed in with the flood of your own spit.

And when it’s time for step three... finally... you’re so excited you can barely breathe. Soon you won’t be able to breathe at all—and you don’t want to be. You want your nose grinding into those gorgeous golden curls right at the base, your lower lip smashed up against his sweaty balls, inhaling his intoxicating musky scent as you savor the taste, the smell and flavor of Jax Teller as he drives his dick deep down your throat and fucks your fucking face.

He’s so enormous that you can’t manage it right away. He teases you at first, knowing you like the way it hurts, then teaches you until it works. It’s so insanely hot the way he fucking smirks, as he shows you just how to power through your gag reflex till it doesn’t exist. To take his throbbing cock deeper and deeper down your eager throat with each thrust of his hips, his thick girth smothering your tongue and stretching out your lips.

The more he dominates your face, the more completely you submit. He’s blowing your mind way more than you’re blowing his. You can't even begin to wrap your head around this state of total bliss.

Literal heaven on earth is what it is.

When Jax is ready to explode... nothing could ever have prepared you for the feeling of his load, as it pumps straight into your throat. His massive dick convulses on your tongue with each powerful pulse of white hot cum, creamy and thick, rope after rope, every drop made to be swallowed. You struggle to gulp it all down as you splutter and choke. High on the way it feels and tastes. Jax holds your head firmly in place, his breathing heaving out in heated gasps and groans, in rhythm with your stifled moans, until he’s finally finished with your face.

Then there’s step four—to thank him for the privilege of being used as his cocksucking whore. You end up doing that before he even tells you. On instinct you already knew. Which earns you some well-deserved praise.

“That’s a good little slut,” he says, smiling as he pulls out of your slobbery mouth with a gratified grunt, softly slapping the tip of his satisfied dick on your face, and then flopping down onto the floor alongside you as you both come down from your sex-induced daze.

Once your senses are clear again, somewhat, you glance at the clock. You’re an important woman with places to be. But with Jax you are—much more importantly—just a cheap slut who needs more of that big beautiful perfect cock...

Jax speaks up just then, seeming to read all the thoughts and needs swirling around in your head. “So you said... ATF school taught you how to fuck?”

You sigh and roll your eyes, wishing you could take back that stupid slip-up, from when you two had first met. You do not like to be mocked. But he won’t let you forget. So you force yourself off of the floor, with half a mind to gather up your stuff and head right out the door. “Ugh, shut up...” you grumble at him as you cling to your deluded sense of pride.

The sexy motherfucker chuckles in a pussy-slaying way that gets you all fucked up inside. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “Hey, just sayin’, darlin’—look, I taught you how to suck... now it’s your turn to teach me something, don’t you think?”

Well, when Jax Teller puts it like that... it’d be no use to try to deny him. He knows you need more of him, bad. You’re finding, in fact, that you don’t even mind the whole darlin’ thing.

Honestly, you’re warming up to this shithole called Charming. This really feels like the beginning of a profitable bond between SAMCRO and ATF. Even if the entire bond is built on Jax fucking your face... and maybe finding other ways to get each other off.

You smile back at him and shrug. “Fair enough.”

“Damn right,” he replies with a devilish glint in his eyes, so damn hot you could die. “Take me to bed, you dirty little fed. And bring the cuffs.”

***************

Thank you for reading!! ❤️

Writing and sharing smut on here is seriously so much fucking fun... I hope to continue, and hope you're enjoying the stuff I write! Really love hearing from you if you do 🤗

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starsstruck · 4 years

Text

under the amber light

an enemies-to-lovers (kind of) where mc finds herself working in a darkroom along with harry, who she has never gotten along with. 35mm film, watermelon slices, and a lot of dim amber lighting.

pairing: harry x reader words: 12.5 k rated: M

an: hello ! i am back w another little something. i hope everyone enjoys, and im sorry if i got any technical things wrong i havent stepped foot in a darkroom in like 3 years, but yeah ! let me know your feelings and thoughts, enjoy !💘 ***

A breathless ‘hello’ accompanied by a smile as you opened the front door, waving as heads turned towards you.

“Sorry we’re late,” you grinned as Margot pulled you in for a quick hug. You had to work a bit later than usual, Aiden meeting you after your shift ended, both heading to your shared place to change and have a few drinks before heading over to Margot’s. “Work was busy today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” beaming at you, you could tell she’s already had quite a few drinks herself. “People are just getting here now.”

She and her roommates had decided to throw a little party, using the excuse of exams being over for nearly everyone. Her place was usually designated as the ‘party house’ as they had the whole house, not having to deal with irritated landlords, and the neighbours never seemed to mind. Their place was also a bit bigger, even having a little porch to sit out on and a small backyard space.

After waving hello to a few more of your friends that sat on the couches, both Aiden and you headed over to Margot’s room to leave your jackets and bags.

Hearing your name being called from the kitchen as you carried the beers that you had brought over caught your attention. “Hey!”

The familiar voice of Margot’s partner carried through the kitchen, opening your arms wide as you accepted his hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” Aleks seemed to have also had more drinks than you, eyelids a bit heavy as he grinned down at you.

“Busy couple of weeks,” you hummed, small frown on your lips as you recalled the final weeks of the semester. You were lucky to only have one exam this semester, but the numerous final papers and assignments were just as bad.

Placing the beers you had brought into the fridge after grabbing one for yourself, you paused for a second when you noticed the fridge magnet bottle opener was not at its usual place.

Glancing across the kitchen at Harry, who’s only acknowledgement of you was a brief glance in your direction when Aleks had called your name. Noticing he had the bottle opener in question, you pulled your attention back to Aleks. “You all done for the term?”

“Yeah,” Aleks sighed, taking a sip of his own drink. “Not as heavy course load this term so I was done fairly early. What about you? Harry mentioned you guys were in the same art history class; I heard the final was pretty tough.”

Glancing over at Harry, you saw his attention was also pulled to Aleks at the mention of his name. His eyes paused on you for a beat, before moving past you to place the magnetic bottle opener back on the fridge.

You knew Harry was the in the same class as you, but there had been very little interaction. In fact, there has been very little interaction between the two of you in general in the months that you had known each other. He was a good friend of Aleks’, and had been quickly integrated into your friend group after Margot started dating Aleks, but you had yet to have any kind of real conversation with him. Quite frankly, you had no idea why Harry seemed to have such distaste for you. His attitude towards you had giving you a bad impression of him, but you had remained polite as ever. Although after nearly four months, it was starting to get irritating.

Grabbing the bottle opener from the fridge, you popped open your own beer before answering Aleks’ question as Harry gave no indication of butting in.

“’M all done as well yeah,” you mused over the stressful weeks that had passed. “I only had one exam, for that art history class. Prof was pretty tough, but she was good. I liked the class a lot.”

You could feel Harry’s eyes burning into the side of your face as you spoke about your shared class, but you refused to look at him.

“Sounds like you had a better time in that class than Harry,” your friend turned to Harry once again, teasingly swatting at his arm.

You only hummed at his words, taking a big gulp of your beer so you wouldn’t have to speak. You could hear friends in the other room laughing loudly, wanting to go join them rather than stand in the kitchen with someone who wanted nothing to do with you.

“You’re here for the summer, aren’t you? Margot mentioned you guys might head out for a little road trip.” Aleks directed his question to you once again.

“Yeah! That’ll be really good. Otherwise I don’t have any big plans. I’m not taking any summer courses, just working. I also started some part time work at a photo lab, developing some film.”

“You started working at a darkroom?”

Both you and Aleks turned to Harry as he spoke for the first time since you’d joined them in the kitchen. He was still leaning back on the counter, eyes narrowed on you. You met his gaze, holding it for a second before slowly nodding.

“Yeah…” muttering, you shot him another glance before focusing your attention back on Aleks. “I’m going to go say hey to everyone else, I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

Taking your chance to leave the kitchen and to head to where nearly everyone sat in the living room, you quickly turned the corner to go catch up with everyone else. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy Aleks’ company, you just wanted a chance to talk to everyone, and quite frankly you weren’t really in the mood to deal with Harry’s broodiness towards you. You didn’t understand it, to be honest. You’d seen him chatty and animated with nearly everyone else, leaving you to think he had some kind of problem with you personally.

Sliding in on the couch next to Margot and some other friends, easily joining in their conversation as you finished off the beer in your hand. The drink was soon replaced, as Margot bounced off to make the two of you some cocktails with whatever liquor she had in her kitchen.

Soon, you had caught up with your friends and were feeling the perfect amount of tipsy. You were resting your head on Aiden’s legs, as you sat on the floor in front of where he sat on the couch, as you both listened to Margot’s animated story about something that had happened during one of her finals.

Someone had grabbed the AUX, deciding to play some Dolly Parton, and you weren’t complaining at the choice. Aiden was playing with your hair, and you felt so content, so at peace. That peace was quickly interrupted, as Margot was tugging at your hand to pull you outside for a smoke.

“How are you,” she hummed, once the two of you were alone sitting across from each other on the porch steps.

“Good,” nodding, as you finally felt relieved from the stressful couple of weeks. “Happy to be done. This summer should be really good as well, everyone’s sticking around. What about you, how are you?”

Margot nodded at your words, smirk playing at her lips. “I’m good, yeah. Aleks wants me to go home with him for a week, meet his family.”

“Really,” drawing out the word, tapping her leg with your foot as you grinned at her. They hadn’t been going out that long, but you knew she was feeling good about their relationship. “You gonna go?”

“I think so,” she nodded, putting out her cigarette as she seemed to think it over. “I really want to. Bit nervous though.”

“They’ll love you,” you reassured. “I know Aleks does.”

“Yeah he does, doesn’t he,” she giggled, scooting over on the step you were sitting on to move closer to you, wrapping an arm you.

“How are things with that guy, what’s his name,” she spoke up after a moment, as you tapped the ash off your own cigarette.

“Nate?” Scoffing as she asked about the last guy you had a small fling with. “Haven’t really talked to him. Honestly he was a bit of a dick, didn’t really get along with him.”

“Yeah you mentioned that,” Margot hummed, resting her head on your shoulder. “Deserve someone better. Maybe you’ll meet someone at the photo lab you’re starting at.”

“Maybe,” you mused, trying not to romanticize the idea of meeting someone cute at your new summer job.

The door clicking open pulled your attention, as you watched Aiden come outside. “I’m heading over to Will’s.”

“You’re leaving?” Both Margot and you spoke the same thing at the same time, as Aiden wrapped his arms around the two of you for a tight hug.

“I’ll see you soon,” he grinned as he made his way down the steps. “You’re okay to get home?”

“Think I’m gonna crash here, I’ll be good.” Aiden nodded as you confirmed you would be okay. “Have fun!”

***

“I’ll grab you a shirt,” Margot mumbled, riffling through her drawers.

Nearly everyone had left, and you were ready to lie down. Both of you had had a little too much to drink having the alcohol eventually making you tired, especially after your long day at work.

Aleks of course got the spot in Margot’s bed, so you were taking one of the couches, having already grabbed a mountain of blankets for yourself.

She passed you a big teeshirt, recognizing it as one she had found at a thrift store with you. “Harry’s crashing here too.”

“What?” Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout, in case someone outside her room could hear. “Where’s he sleeping?”

“On the other couch,” she shrugged. They had two couches in the living room, one much smaller than the other. You sighed, knowing you would inevitably be the one taking the shorter couch.

“That okay?”

“’Course,” you muttered. “It’s your house. Plus Harry’s the one that has a problem, not me.”

Margot rolled her eyes, changing into her pyjamas. “Harry doesn’t hate you,” she knew very well about your issues with him.

“He totally does!” Keeping your voice at a whisper in case the sound carried past the closed door.

“No one hates you.” Margot grinned at you, sitting next to you on her bed as you riffled through your bag. “I told you, he’s just like that with people he doesn’t know.”

“Known him nearly four months,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Well,” she paused. “He’s a sweet guy, I promise.”

Dropping the subject, you made your way over to the washroom and tried your best at taking off your makeup, borrowing a bit of Margot’s moisturizer so your skin wouldn’t freak out on you.

Realizing that everyone had left except for those spending the night, you bid your goodnight to Margot and Aleks before bringing your things to the living room. You were surprised to see Harry already there, distracted by whatever he was doing on his phone.

He glanced up as you dropped some blankets on the couch, eyes holding yours for barely a second. You suddenly felt self-conscious, his ever-intense gaze dropping to your bare legs for a second.

“I can take the small couch,” you mumbled, grabbing hold of a blanket for your makeshift bed.

“Right,” Harry coughed, placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him.

He watched you unfold the blankets, laying them down on the couch. You silently passed him some of the blankets you had gathered, noticing he only had one.

You also couldn’t help but notice he had also changed, wearing a pair of black joggers you could only assume he had borrowed from Aleks. His chest was bare, and you found yourself annoyed with how good he looked like that, forcing yourself not to try and make out newly exposed tattoos.

“Sorry,” he suddenly blurted, breaking the crisp silence as you both made your beds on the couches. “I know this is your usual sleeping spot.”

His words slurred slightly, but his expression was just as unreadable as ever. It was the most he’d said to you all night.

“S’no problem,” you offered him a small smile as your eyes met his. He caught you slightly off guard when he didn’t look away like he usually did. Holding your gaze for a second longer than he should have, you felt the beginning of a flush across your cheeks. His gaze was so intense on you, so nearly hot.

Still, he failed to return your smile, or any other sense of comradery towards you. Once again self-conscious under his stare, you were the one to look away. Muttering a small ‘night’ to him, you slid through the pile of blankets you had created for yourself.

If he had returned the bid goodnight, you hadn’t heard it.

Fine. Quietly huffing to yourself, rolling over on the couch with your legs having to lay a bit folded. You were grateful for how tired you were, not having to think too much about the fact that this situation otherwise would’ve made you nervous.

***

As with any new job, you still felt a bit anxious as you came in for work, even if it had been nearly two weeks of working. As you pulled open the door, smiling at the woman behind the counter at the photo lab.

“Hi!” She greeted you immediately. “How are you?”

“Good thanks,” returning her smile as you moved past the door that separated the customer waiting area, to the behind the counter. “How about you? Busy today?”

“Not too bad, yeah. Mostly pickups. Some rolls back there for you to start on.”

“Perfect,” you smiled at her again, before opening the door that you knew led to the back. You were still a bit nervous, even after a couple shifts. You knew that you knew your way around a darkroom, but it was more daunting when you were working with paying customers photos, and not just your own.

Eyes scanning the room, trying to recall everything you had been told in training. Soon everything slipped your mind, as your eyes fell on a familiar face.

Mouth gaping slightly as if you were to speak, Harry met your gaze. Did he work here too? Why hadn’t you known that. You recalled that night at Margot’s a couple days ago, when you were talking about starting a new job at a darkroom. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Hi,” you finally spoke, placing your bag on the table.

He was standing across the room, seeming to be mix solvents in the beginning stages of developing his film. He was looking at you from over his shoulder, dressed casually with a bandana pushed through his hair.

“Hi,” he mirrored, briefly looking down to what he was doing before fully turning to face you. “You started working here?”

Nodding slowly, expression matching his. “Yeah,” you smiled a bit, though he didn’t return it. “Just working in the back.” You pointed to the door that led to the darkroom.

He simply nodded, turning away from you again as he reached for something next to him. “These need to be printed.” He passed you a plastic cover filled with film strips, taking a step towards you.

“Right,” nodding, deciding if he wasn’t going to be decently nice you didn’t have to be either.

“You know how everything works, right?” The question irritated you, but your tried not to let it show. Of course you knew how everything worked, you had been hired here.

“Yeah,” was all you said, before opening up the door that brought you into a dark room, faced with another door. Once in the actual darkroom, you felt the wall for where you knew sat the switch for the dim amber lights.

Immediately getting to work, starting with preparing your separate baths filled with solvents. It was when you were pulling sheets of photo paper that you heard the door click open, eyes focusing to see Harry having joined you.

“Forgot to give you this,” he said quickly, sounding almost out of breath. Narrowing your eyes as you grabbed the sheet from his hands, squinting in the dim light to read the words written on the top of the page.

You felt irritated again. It was the basic information sheet on what settings to leave the enlarger at, and how many seconds you should expose for. “Just in case.”

He was practically smirking.

“Thanks.” Voice clipped; you knew it wasn’t best to be a bit moody with him but it wasn’t like he was your boss. You placed the sheet next to you on the counter, waiting for Harry to leave. He only nodded once more, before slipping out the door.

You got back to work, having fake arguments in your head with Harry after he left you bothered. How was it that you had never seen him here before? There wasn’t much of a set schedule per se, so it was completely possible that the two of you had missed each other like this, but it still took you by surprise.

It was nice that you could work more or less by yourself, since at your other job you were constantly dealing with customers and never had a shift alone unless it was a morning shift. Obviously working at the same place as Harry wasn’t going to be a big problem, it was just the way he acted towards you that bugged you.

***

Weeks had gone since you first saw Harry at the studio. It had gotten a bit better; he wasn’t so much being cold with you as he was getting on your nerves. Instead of being passive and ignoring you, he had progressed to badgering you, clearly noticing it bothered you. That was at least, when he was talking to you.

He made sure to double check that the images you were exposing came through correctly, saying things like ‘just have to make sure everything’s good’, and ‘they all should be similar, don’t want any inconsistencies’.

It was irritating to say the least. He never really talked about you about anything outside of work, even though technically he was in your friend group, and that irritated you even more. Neither of you had actually seen each other outside of work, something that usually happened at Margot’s or Aleks’ house.

One of your coworkers, Shane, was shocked when he said Harry had mentioned that the two of you knew each other outside of work.

“Would think that he’s never known to talk to you a day in his life.” Shane had commented with a laugh.

Margot, and even Aleks, had heard all about it, only ever really assuring you that ‘he doesn’t hate you’ and ‘he’s never said a bad thing about you’.

That being said, at least he wasn’t avoiding you like the plague anymore.

“Are you just finishing up?”

Harry had come into the darkroom to gather up some photographs, stacking them in a neat pile before slipping them into an envelope. The two of you were the only one’s left for the evening, the shop closed to the public.

“Yeah, just cleaning up now.”

Just making out his nod in the amber light, he paused before speaking again. “D’you need a ride home?”

That took you by surprise. The two of you hadn’t closed up just the two of you before, but you would have never though he’d ben offering to give you a drive home.

“You don’t have to –”

“It’s no trouble,” he interrupted, reaching for the handle to leave the room.

“I – yeah thank you.”

Nodding at your confirmation, he stepped out of the dark room leaving you to finish up packing everything for the day.

You found Harry sitting in the back room, preoccupied by his phone as he waited for you. “Ready?” He stood suddenly, slipping his phone in his jeans pocket as you reached through your bag for some lip balm.

Following him through the front door, waiting as he locked up before leading you over to where he had parked down the street. Sliding into the passenger seat of his car, the first few minutes of your ride in silence expect for your directions to your place.

“You make other art outside of film. Right?” Harry suddenly spoke, drawing your attention to him as his eyes remained on the road.

“Yeah,” pausing for a second, “I mean, it is my major.”

That caused him to glance at you with a laugh. “I know. I’ve just never seen any of it is all.”

“Never asked.”

“Right,” he said quietly, before clearing his throat and giving you another glance. “Well consider this me asking.”

You bit back a smile. “Next time.”

Nodding with a breathy laugh, just as you recognized the beginning of your street outside. “Here’s fine,” you turned to him, not needing him to go all the way into the winding residential area.

“I can go right to your door,” he turned on his right turn single. “Through here?”

“Yeah,” you directed him through the neighbourhood until he pulled in on the side of the road.

Grabbing for your bag at your feet, digging in it until you reached your keys. “You going to Margot’s on Friday?” Harry pulled your attention back to him.

“Of course,” you smiled slightly, hand on the door as you readied to leave. He nodded, eyes remaining on you as you went to step out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you then?”

“See you then,” he confirmed with a perk in his lips, just as you turned around and shut the door behind you.

***

“Don’t know what to wear,” Margot was muttering to herself as she surveyed the clothes she had just grabbed from her closet.

You had your own outfit crisis at home before coming over to Margot’s, coming over early for once. Aiden was still at work, and you had the day off so you and Margot had spent the afternoon together before everyone would be coming over later on in the night.

“I like that,” you hummed, pointing to the shirt she had just thrown aside.

“I guess,” she mumbled, looking at her outfit in her mirror. “Not really the vibe though, is it?”

Giggling at her words, you rolled over on her bed to fully face her. “And what is the vibe?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, going back to her closet. “You’re wearing a dress.” Glancing down at your own red sundress at her words, you laughed. Summer was well on its way by now, and you were a sucker for a good sundress. “Plus,” Margot continued as she changed her shirt once again. “I’m mad at Aleks.”

“What’d he do?”

She sighed, sitting down next to you on her bed. “I’m not really mad at him; we got into a little fight and I just wanna look good and ignore him for a bit.”

Humourless laugh leaving her lips, she rose again and took another look at her outfit. “I like this, think I’m happy with it.”

Heading over to the kitchen, you guys took out the big bottle of margarita mix and tequila, deciding to have a nice cocktail outside as the sun set, before everyone else arrived.

“How’s work going?” Margot asked, once the margs were made and the two of you sat outside in the slowly cooling air.

“Work is the same,” you hummed licking salt from your lips. “Nothing really new.”

“What about the new place, with Harry? He said you were doing really good.”

Now that was a surprise to you.

“He did? The jobs good, but honestly working with Harry…” trailing off, you wanted to be delicate with your wording. “He’s still acting like a bit of a pain. Not as much as before but, I dunno…” trailing your finger over the salted rim of the glass, you thought it over. “Like I’ve said, he just doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you fine,” Margot hummed, small laugh in her voice

“Oh well,” muttering into your glass, “finish up your marg.”

Soon, both of you were a couple drinks in and more people had started arriving at Margot’s. The back door was open, spending most of your time outside before the sun fully set just to savour the last bits of the summer night.

You don’t know how much time has gone by, nor how many drinks you’d had, but soon you were slouched on the couch next to your friends, happy grin on your lips. That grin didn’t last long however, as your eyes scanned the room and landed on a familiar face.

“Fuck,” sliding even closer to Margot and Aiden. “That’s Nate.” Pointing with your head to where he stood by the hallway.

Margot lifted her head, not so subtly glancing to the direction you were motioning. “That’s him? He knows Aleks I think.”

“Oh,” you muttered, shooting the guy you didn’t want to see another glance. It wasn’t that things were bad with the two of you, but you had decided you didn’t want to ever see him again.

“I didn’t realize he was coming,” Margot shot you a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay,” you nodded, cozying up with the two of them and deciding to keep him out of your mind. “Just won’t talk to him.”

You had managed to stick to that, never even interacting with him the majority of the night. It wasn’t until you had stepped out on the front porch for a breather and a smoke, that you suddenly found yourself along with Nate who had apparently followed you out.

Leaning your back against the wooden railing behind you, offering him a small smile and nothing else. “Didn’t know you would be here.” He was the first to speak.

“It’s my friends place,” you hummed, tapping out your cigarette.

“Missed you these past couple of weeks,” his words made you glance at him, only for a second.

“Nate,” you sighed, putting out your smoke. “I told you –”

He cut you off. “I know what you told me. Like I said, I just miss you. You here with anyone?”

“No,” you breathed out, not knowing why you couldn’t just lie to him.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” He bumped his knee with yours, as you still didn’t look over at him.

“Not in the mood,” you muttered, resting your head back against the beam behind you.

“I can get you in the mood,” he shuffled closer to you, as you tightened your arms around your chest.

“Fuck off Nate,” muttering as you finally glared up at him.

Calling your name, he didn’t stop in his pursuit. “Come on –”

“Think she told you to fuck off, mate.”

Both of you turned your heads to the voice coming from the door, seeing Harry standing in the frame, arms folded across his chest.

Christ. You didn’t have the energy to deal with Harry as well, even if in this moment he was helping you out.

As annoyed as you were over the testosterone swirling around you like leaves in the wind, Nate took a step away. He slid away from the two of you with a ‘whatever’ muttered underneath his breath.

Blowing out a sigh, you sank down to sit on the wooden step, extending your legs out in front of you. You could practically hear Harry hesitating behind you, before he finally made his way to you and tentatively sat down.

“Thanks,” your voice was quiet as you finally spoke, face forward as you kept your eyes focused on your sock covered feet that you knocked together.

“He’s a dick,” his voice was soft, in fact you think that was the softest you’d ever heard it.

“Yeah,” humourless laugh leaving your lips as you nodded. “He is.” You were annoyed with yourself of how you had let Nate ruin your evening.

Finally facing Harry, you found his eyes already on you. “Do you like margaritas?”

***

You knew your way around Margot’s kitchen well, spending enough time at her place to call it your second home.

“Not going to blend them, hope that’s okay.” You shot Harry a glance as you grabbed an ice cube tray from the freezer. “Don’t wanna leave dishes.”

“’s no problem at all,” he spoke quietly, almost cautiously. You nodded, not measuring as you poured tequila in each cup.

“Lime?” Grabbing a knife from the drawer, cutting a lime into quarters.

“Please,” he nodded, watching as you squeezed the juice into the glasses. You brought one cup to your lips, taking a quick taste of your cocktail. Hearing a breathy chuckle from Harry as you added a splash more tequila, you handed him a cup.

“Cheers,” the corners of your lips perking up to a small smile as you clinked glasses with him. He returned the sentiment, each taking a big sip of your drinks.

“It’s good,” he smirked, tongue darting out to lick the liquor off his lips.

You hummed in agreement, taking another sip of the cocktail. Wordlessly moving past Harry, you opened the fridge next to him and searched around for the fruit you knew sat somewhere in the back.

Fingers gripping the cold ceramic bowl, you shut the door with your hip. “You want some?”

Handful of berries in your own hand, you tilted the bowl in Harry’s direction. He seemed to hesitate again, eyes flicking between your own and the bowl of raspberries pointed at him. “I – yeah, thank you.”

“I love raspberries,” you hummed, placing the bowl between the two of you on the counter before grabbing another handful.

Harry couldn’t help the small smile that pulled on his lips as he watched you enjoyed the red fruit. Just as he was trying to think up something, anything, to say to you, Margot and Aleks crashed through the kitchen.

“There you are!” Margot exclaimed, swinging one arm around you as she grabbed some raspberries herself. “Was looking for you, are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smiled at your friend, taking another sip of your drink. “Just making some more cocktails.” Passing Margot your cup, offering a sip to which she refused.

Aleks had caught Harry in conversation, neither of them seeing as Margot wordlessly glanced between you and Harry, eyebrows furrowing at you quizzically, as if asking you what was going on. You simply shrugged, mouthing ‘I don’t know’ before you drank more of your margarita.

She nodded, your silent conversation coming to an end.

The four of you soon pulled out of the kitchen, joining the remaining party-goers in the living room. You had had 2 more margaritas, eventually settling into a corner of the couch as you were slowly letting yourself relax, even in the excited atmosphere.

The night progressed as it usually did, a few remaining as late hours of the night rolled in. Aleks had out on some movie he wanted to share with everyone, and at that point you knew if you stayed for any longer you would completely fall asleep.

Jumping up to grab your jacket, hovering on top of Margot from where she sat. “I’m heading out,” you mumbled, arms wrapping her in a hug. “I’ll see you soon! We’ll have that beach day.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay here?”

Shaking your head, you reached for your bag sitting on her floor. “I have work tomorrow pretty early, and I’m already going to be a bit hungover.”

The two of you headed to her front door as she walked you out, as you bid goodnight to the few remaining friends on your way. “You okay to walk home?”

“Yes, of course.” Waving off her concern, although grateful she always checked with you before you leave her house. You were a bit drunker than you’d like to be for the walk home, but it was a fairly short walk.

“Okay well text me when you get home,” she slurred, pulling you in for another hug once you reached the front door.

“Are you leaving?” Aleks, followed by Harry, appeared behind Margot as you broke apart.

Nodding as you bid him goodnight as well, voice being interrupted by your own yawn.

“I can walk with you.”

Harry’s voice pipped up from behind Aleks, head turning to him to see him slipping on his jacket. “I –” about to refuse, but realizing he properly had to walk home as well, “– yeah that’d be good.”

Soon you were both walking side by side in the empty street as it was well into the night, the cool air not too much of a bother after the drinks you’d had.

“Where’s Aiden?” Harry’s voice broke the silence after a good five minutes.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “He left the party a while ago, he usually goes over to his ex’s.” He only nodded, remaining silent for another short moment.

“You don’t have to walk all the way with me,” you suddenly spoke, turning to look at him. “If it’s out of your way.”

He turned to you, light smile on his face. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Where’s your place?”

“Couple blocks past yours. Like an extra fifteen minute walk or so.” Nodding at his words, about to ask how he knew how far away from your place he lived, before remembering he had given you a ride home a couple days ago.

“You don’t have to walk all the way if its easier –”

“It’s no problem at all!” He stressed with a light laugh, interrupting you as he knew what you were going to say. “Plus,” he smirked, “it’ll give me some piece of mind knowing you got home safe.”

Heat building in your cheeks at his words, suddenly unsure of what to say. Your relationship with him thus far had only been practically nonexistent. Choosing not to say anything, a silence fell over the pair of you once more.

“Never showed me any of your work,” Harry suddenly spoke up again.

“What?” Alcohol and exhaust clouding your brain, taking a second to understand what he was talking about.

“Last time, you mentioned you’d show me your work outside of film.”

Right. “Oh yeah,” words were a breath from your lips. “Well, next time. Promise.” You don’t know why you always felt a bit weird when someone asked you to show them what you did. It wasn’t like you shared some publicly, but when someone asked you personally it made you hesitate.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he nodded, as you realized you had made to the end of your street.

Harry still next to you, as you dug through your bag until you held you keys in your hand. Once again hesitating, unsure of why you felt so unsure. “Well,” you coughed, looking up at him. “Thank you.”

“Really no problem,” he hummed, and you realized you didn’t know how to say goodnight to him. Suddenly in your overthinking, you found yourself wrapping your arms around him to pull him in for a hug.

He seemed just as surprised by your action, though quickly softening up to you and wrapped an arm around your back. “Night,” he was warm against you, the feeling of being in his arms had found to be quite comforting in fact.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat as you pulled away. “Night.”

***

The following weekend, it was a miraculous day where nearly everyone had the day off. Everyone had met at the beach, enjoying a full day in the sun.

“You coming?” Margot’s voice pulled you out of your daydreams, turning over to where she stood above you.

“What?”

“We’re gonna try and play some volleyball. Key word is try.”

Giggling at her words, you shook your head. “No, I’m good for now. Honestly I might end up napping for a bit.”

“We’re just over there if you want to join!” You watched as she headed in the same direction she pointed, a bit down the beach where nets had been set up.

Once alone you reached for your back, immediately realizing you had forgotten to bring your book with you. Maybe a nap really was in the stars.

Already having applied enough sunscreen for the time being, you settled yourself on your back and placed your hat just over your eyes.

The quiet moment didn’t last long, however, as soon someone was standing over you, blocking the sun.

Reaching up to move the hat from your face, your eyes readjusting to the light to see Harry standing over you. “Can I join?”

“Up to you,” you hummed. You could just make out the faintest hints of a smirk at your passive answer. Hearing him readjust the beach towel next to you, as he claimed that spot.

Peeking an eye open, you saw as his head rested in his arms, tilting dangerously close to the exposed skin of your waist. He was resting on his front, facing you as his eyes peered up towards you. “Y’not playing volleyball?”

“Don’t feel like it,” muttering, you readjusted yourself slightly. “Why don’t you go play?”

“Don’t feel like it,” he mirrored.

You only hummed in response, moving your head to face the sky once again. Silence falling between the two of you as you tried to focus on the sound of the waves, and not on Harry laying next to you.

The silence didn’t last long however, as Harry shifted closer to you. “Why’re you ignoring me?”

You nearly snorted at his comment, propping yourself up on your elbow to gaze down at him. “I’m not ignoring you Harry. Just trying to relax.”

He let out a breath, turning his head to rest his cheek on his arm, facing you. You dropped your head back down on your towel, not without feeling his breath tickle your skin.

Your body betrayed you, just as you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Harry seemed to notice as well, and soon his breath wasn’t the only thing tickling you. Bringing a finger up to the skin of your tummy, he lightly traced his fingertip over the bumps rising over your abdomen.

Muscles tensing at his sudden touch, you moved your own hand down to your stomach and peeked an eye open to see him. His cheek remained on his forearm, hair falling around him on the towel.

“What are you…” you trailed off, honestly not being bothered by his touch. It was light, fingertips smoothing over your exposed skin.

“Jus’ relaxing, love.” The pet name slipped from between his lips, your body flushing even more at the way he said it so effortlessly.

“This okay?” he spoke again, quieter as you relaxed back onto the towel.

Humming in approval, you willed yourself to seem unbothered. His fingertips moved along your stomach, tracing mindless circles into the skin as his palm rested flat. It was nice, the light tickling and trailing on your skin, he was right to say it was relaxing.

You don’t know how long the two of your rested like that. Not many words were shared, both resting in a peaceful silence. You had slightly dozed off, never fully falling asleep as you were always aware of where Harry’s hand was on you.

At one point he wrapped his hand nearly completely around you, staying like that as he dozed off himself. You realized that he was basically cuddled around you, his head having shifted closer with his forehead resting on the skin over your ribs.

“Skin’s getting warm,” after a moment, you don’t really know how long, Harry’s voice pulled you out of your sleep. Sliding his arm off of you and lifted himself to rest on his elbows. “Y’should put on more sunscreen.”

Rising to a seated position, you crossed your legs as you glanced over at him. All you could do was nod dumbly at Harry’s comment, reaching out for your bag to grab the sunscreen that you had packed.

As you rubbed the sun block down your shins, you watched as Harry turned over to sit up as well and pulled out a couple containers that seemed to be filled with fruit.

“Brought snacks?”

“Just some fruits,” he shrugged, pushing his sunglasses off the bridge of his nose and onto the top of his head.

Just as you were repositioning the hat on your head, and digging through your mess of a tote back for your own sunglasses, you gasped as you felt something cold and wet on your thigh.

Glancing down, you saw a big slice of watermelon sitting on your leg.

“Heard you liked watermelon,” he shrugged again, and you looked at him just as he took and obscenely big bite of his own slice of fruit.

“Love fruits,” you murmured, as you picked the fruit up from where it sat on your leg. You were grateful to be wearing sunglasses now, as you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him as he ate his piece of watermelon.

“Y’got,” his voice broke the silence once again, pulling your attention back to him. Eyes wide as you watched his hand reach forward towards you, thumb swiping over your thigh. Collecting the watermelon juice that had trickled down your leg, sticking the digit past his lips.

“Sweet,” he hummed, lips perking into a smirk as he reached for another piece of fruit.

“You’re a pest,” shaking your head, with a giggle in your voice.

Watching as he reached across for his bag again, flashing you a mock pout. “Not very nice of you, love.” Turning away from you for a beat, facing you again with his 35mm.

“Stay still,” he murmured after bringing the camera to his eye, lens pointed towards you.

“Hey!” covering your face with the slice of watermelon in your hand, bringing your other hand down to readjust your bikini top that had slid down a bit.

“Stay still!’ He repeated, swatting his hand in your direction, fingertips brushing over your arm as he wordlessly told you to move it down.

Moving your arm, hovering the half-eaten slice of fruit next to your face, you complied to his request and stayed still while he took a picture of you.

Eyes lingering on you after he placed the camera aside with a smirk still playing at his lips with a gleam in his eyes. “What?” Giggling almost nervously as you shifted under his stare.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he paused before looking forward towards the water. “Nice day out, is all.”

He didn’t say anything more, leaning back on one arm as he finished off the rest of the fruit in hand. You watched him for another beat, eyes trialing from his face to the muscles that flexed under the skin of his arm.

Not immediately adverting your eyes you squinted a bit as you took in every detail of the tattoos covering his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder about them, so many for someone still reasonably young.

Just as you wondered if he had any particular reason for all of them, warm hands landed on your shoulder and a new body hovered over you.

“Hey,” a breathless Aiden reached over you to pluck a slice of watermelon from where they sat. “As it turns out, I do not like volleyball. Want to come to the water with me? I need a little cool off.”

Harry’s gaze met yours again for less than a second, before glancing up at where Aiden sat kneeling behind you. “I’m good, I can stay back and watch our stuff.”

Being pulled up to your feet, you left your hat and sunglasses in a pile on your towel before sauntering off with Aiden in the direction of where the water hit the land. Shooting another brief look behind you to see Harry’s eyes on you again. Sending a smile his way as you tugged up the thin straps of your bottoms that rested at your hips, just as Aiden pulled at your wrist as he skipped towards the water.

“Feels nice,” Aiden hummed, once both of you were ankle deep in the cold water. The sun was shinning hot today, only a barely there breeze present to cool you down. Aiden was right, soaking in the water doing wonders for your bodily temperature.

Taking the plunge, literally, as the two of you submerging yourselves under water as you played around. Once the water was leaving goosebumps on your skin you guys wandered around the shore, picking up odd rocks as if you were birds looking for something flashy.

“He’s always staring at you,” Aiden bumped his arm with yours, nodding his head towards where the group sat after abandoning the volleyball game.

“Who?”

“Harry,” mindlessly looking up from the rocks by your feet, squinting in the sun. “You guys seem much more amicable.”

“Yeah,” nodding as you thought over his words. “Working with him has been good lately. He’s like, kind of intense, but in a hot way y’know?”

Aiden laughed at your description. “I think he’s into you. Probably has been into you this entire time.”

Scoffing at his words, you glanced at your friend. “I don’t know about that.” Your words were a lie, having thought about the possibility a couple times but you didn’t want to overthink it.

“Don’t be dense.” Aiden laughed, suddenly bending over to pick up a rock and holding it in front you. “Here, this one reminds me of Margot.”

***

No one was in the dark room when you got there, working alone as you worked though a roll for a customer. Moving your paper into the developer, you nearly forgot about them as pictures drying off caught your attention.

They were obviously Harry’s and not one of a client, as you recognized nearly everyone photographed. Your gaze moved over every image, quickly moving your own roll over to the stop bath, before looking back at Harry’s pictures.

There were a few from that day at the beach, times when you hadn’t even realized Harry had the camera pointed at anyone. You saw yourself in some of them, laughing away with Margot as the sun set behind the pair of you, distant shots of you and Aiden sticking out of the water.

They were beautifully candid, the evidence of Harry’s visual eye very clear in all the images.

The picture of you with the watermelon he had snapped was probably one of the best pictures someone had taken of you in years. You looked relaxed, small smile playing at your lips as you looked down at the lens, the sun glowing on half of your face.

Small gasp at the sound of the door opening behind you, spinning around to barely make out Harry’s frame. “Scared me,” you murmured, letting out a sigh as you moved back to your solvents and moved your paper to the fixing solvent.

“Didn’t realize anyone was here,” his voice carried through the room as he walked in, standing by where you just admiring his work.

“Thought I’d get a start on those,” you hummed, pointed to where you still had film to expose. “Those are really great,” you saw his head turn to you as you complimented his work he had just started gathering up. “Didn’t realize you’d been taking so many pictures.”

“Thanks,” just making out the shine in his eyes, he flipped through them before shuffling over to you. “Did you see this one?”

Squinting, you saw him holding up the image of you with the watermelon. “I did. Really like it.”

“It’s my favourite,” Harry nodded, glancing down at it.

You were happy to be standing in a literal dark room, as you felt a flush rise up your neck. It was a compliment to his photography skills really, but it was also a compliment to you. A silence overtook the room, and you suddenly felt so incredibly nervous for very little reason.

“Why did you hate me?”

What the hell was that. Blurting things out wasn’t really your style as you were fairly good at keeping a tight filter on the words that left your mouth, except maybe after a couple drinks. But in this moment, for some reason, you truly needed to know why Harry had seemed to resent you so much when you first met.

His head turned back to yours in a quick motion, nearly unable to see it in the dim amber light. His mouth opened, as if to speak, but no words came out.

“I mean –” you sighed, glancing away from him as embarrassment trickled through your skin. “You just seemed not very… fond of me.”

“I never hated you,” his words were laced with a sigh, shoulders dropping a bit as he turned his body to face yours. His face glowed the soft orange from the room that surrounded you. “You should move your papers out of the fix bath.”

“What?” You blinked as if broken out of a daze.

“The fix bath, it’s been a couple minutes.”

“Fuck,” muttering as you spun around, grabbing your abandoned tongs and moved the paper into the water for its wash. Watching your image float around for a second, prodding it gently with the tongs.

“I never hated you,” Harry repeated from next to you, making you turn to him once again as you dropped the tongs on the counter. “I was just – I guess I was intimidated? Not really the right word but,”

He trailed off, showing no sign of continuing as you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth. “Why?”

The beginnings of a smile grew on his lips at your lighter tone. “I guess… I don’t know. Saw you around campus a lot, I guess I froze up.”

“Froze up?” Questioning him again and not fully understanding his explanation.

“I mean,” he paused again, averting his gaze as he fiddled with a ring around his finger, “yeah something like that.”

You could only nod, still not fully understanding what he was trying to communicate.

“Plus,” he added, seemingly to recover form his uncertain composure with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Like getting a rise out of you.”

“Clearly,” you laughed, matching his smile. “Seem to be pretty good at it, too.”

He didn’t say anything, letting your words hang around the two of you for a bit too long. He wasn’t avoiding your eyes anymore, and you were once again grateful for being in a dark room so he couldn’t see the warmth that spread over your skin.

“Well,” you finally spoke again, voice suddenly quiet. “I have more film to get to.”

“Right,” Harry nodded as he stepped away from you, grabbing his images he had left on the counter. “I should go. I’ll see you soon.”

Watching as he gathered everything he had come for, bidding his goodbye to you and reaching for the doorknob.

“See you, Harry.”

***

“Did you do a test strip for these?”

“Yeah,” you called over your shoulder, moving your images into their third and final solvent.

“And they turned out well?” His voice grew louder, causing you to spin around to face him. “Because the setting on the enlarger is really not what it should be.”

“Harry –”

“They’re not gonna come out, you’re going to have to redo them. How many have you done like this now?” Even under the barely there light you could make out the hard expression on his face.

“I know what I’m doing. I did a bunch of trials with my own film and paper that are ready right over there.”

Letting out an irritated breath as you turned around, gripping a corner of the photo that was currently floating in its bath.

“Look,” you held up the wet photo paper with the tongs. Harry took a step closer, eyes narrowing on the image you held up. “They’re exactly what they should be.”

He was silent for a bit, you could hear his agitated exhales puff out next you. Leaning in to the image, you heard a small ‘fuck’ leave his lips.

“Don’t let this go to your head,” he muttered eyes flicking between yours and the image.

“Already has. Harry we’ve been through this. You need to trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Narrowing your eyes at him slightly, as is if challenging him.

“You can’t just go around changing everything, there’s a process.”

“Yeah and I followed it. And they turned out really well, so don’t give me shit.”

He took a pause, eyeing you down. Pushing hair off his forehead, he placed his hand on the counter next to you. “You’re unbelievable.”

You didn’t know if he meant it in a good way or bad way.

His eyes on you were as intent as ever, burning right through your own; his face an unreadable as ever.

“Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Lips pressed to yours in a fast kiss. Both the shock of the action and his body knocking yours as his hand came to cup your face caused you to step back, hitting the edge of the counter.

As quickly as it happened it was over, your eyes remaining wide open on him. His gaze was dropped down to the small space between the two of you, breath leaving his lips in small puffs.

“I – fuck – that’s not how I wanted that to happen,” his eyes lifted to yours, hand still holding the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheek.

The feeling of his lips lingered on yours. “I couldn’t help myself,” his voice dropped, eyes glazing over your lips again.

Tongue quickly licking your lips, tentatively you lifted your own hands up, trailing your fingertips lightly over the fabric of his shirt, gripping the neckline. “You wanted to kiss me?”

His shoulders dropped slightly, smile pulled at his lips, as he visibly swallowed before speaking. “I – always.”

His words sent a rush through your body, wanting to feel him on you again. “Want to again?”

Harry didn’t waste a second, hand sliding to the back of your head. His other hand lifted to the small of your back, pushing your body closer to his. His kiss was a bit more tentative, pulling you gently against him.

Growing in confidence as you tugged on the fabric of his shirt, his mouth sliding open over yours and he pulled you in for more. Lips slotting open on yours as he pulled you in for more, and more.

A sigh being pulled from the back of your throat catches in his mouth as his fingers gripped tightly into the loose fabric of your dress. Your own hand wrapping around his shoulders, moving to pull at the hair that hung at the nape of his neck.

Greedily licking into your mouth as if he would die without the taste of you. Back arching as you pushed yourself against him, hips knocking with his.

Lips parting away with a ‘Christ’ grunted from Harry, uneven breaths swirling together. Dark eyes burning into your own, you felt a hand drop from your hip down your thigh, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

His lips met the skin of your jaw, hand on the back of your head tugging at your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. His lips dipped down, a trail of wet kisses along your skin, teeth nipping at the skin that elicited a pitched gasp to leave your parted lips.

His body kept yours pinned against the counter, fingertips tickling the bare skin on your thigh as your own weaved through his hair. Your name tumbling from his lips as you pushed your hips against his. “What’re you doing to me, love.”

Fingertips easing down his shirt covered chest, pushing at him the slightest bit until his lips broke away from your skin. “We should,” your voice was so nearly breathless, “finish up here.”

Hand moving from his shoulder as you weakly motioned to the room around you, remembering you were both technically on the clock. “Yeah,” Harry blew out a sigh, his forehead resting on your shoulder momentarily. “We should.”

Taking a small step away from you as his eyes landed on your, hands moving to brush over your bare arms until his fingertips fiddled with yours. “You’re done working for the day, right?”

“I could be.”

Lips kinked into a smirk. “Do you,” Harry paused, interlocking your fingers as his hands continued to fidget with your own. “Come home with me? Promise just for dinner, a drink, whatever you want.”

Biting back a smile, you thought over his words. “Plus,” he added. “Got a killer view of the sunset.”

You couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face. “Won me over.”

The two of you finished off cleaning up the room quickly, properly emptying out baths of solvent, putting away all photopaper and making sure everything was turned off.

The front of the shop had already been seen to, only needing to punch in the code and lock the door before you were walking over to where Harry had parked down the street.

His arm had bumped yours as you left the shop, just before his fingers brushed over your hand to grab hold of it.

Once seated in the passenger seat of his car, he passed you his phone letting you have free reign over the music. The drive was quick, you were soon walking up steps in an apartment building you had passed countless times.

“Do you have a roommate?” Realizing he had never seemed to mention anything about his living situation.

“No,” Harry unlocked his door as you followed close behind. “Kind of lucky I guess, I was able to find this place.”

Nodding, very familiar with the joys of having the house to yourself. Following Harry as he kicked off his shoes, walking through his studio. You loved seeing inside people’s places, how they arranged their things, what they had lying around. It was also nice to see that the place had actually feel to it, seeming like he didn’t just have a mattress on the floor.

Standing in his kitchen, you watched as he placed his things on the counter by the door. Curiously glancing at the space around you, loving to snoop on the banality of the way other people lived.

“So, where’s this killer view?” Being on the fourth flour of the building, you didn’t doubt the view was nice, not having that luxury at your own place.

“Patience, darling.” He grinned at you from across the kitchen. “First, you want anything to drink? I’ve got water, tea…” he trailed off, brows furrowing as he seemed to have run out of things to offer you.

“Tea’s good,” you laughed, watching as he nodded and grabbed his kettle to fill with water. “Where’s your washroom?”

“Just around the corner,” he pointed, as you headed in that direction. Taking extra time to observe his things in the washroom, forever curious about how other people lived and taking it as a good sign seeing his washroom clean and fairly organized.

You were soon sitting on a on a little bench that he had out on a tiny balcony, tea in hand as you sat side by side. He was right, the sun was just setting and it lit up the sky with an orange glow.

As per Harry’s request, you had finally shown him some pictures of your art off your phone. You had blushed under his compliments, leaving your phone by your side as conversation died between the two of you and you both enjoyed the view. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you to rest against his chest.

It wasn’t long until Harry’s lips were on your skin once again. Starting with small kisses on you’re your shoulder, his head dipping down behind you. Innocent at first, you didn’t move in your position. Craning his head until his mouth met your neck, tongue darting out between parted lips.

You didn’t move until his teeth nipped the skin, eliciting a jolt from you in shock. Moving his head from the crook of your neck, hand coming up to your cheek, single finger pushing your head around to face him.

His mouth met yours, hesitant at first as he let you adjust yourself slightly so you wouldn’t have your neck twisted. His arm around you pulled you in closer, as your brought one leg up on the bench next to you so that you could press your chest against his.

Your own hands came up around his neck as your mouth opened with his, kissing him deeper and deeper while the sun set behind you. He held you tightly against him as if you’d slip away from him if he didn’t, as he selfishly pulled unrelenting kisses from you.

Moving his hand from your cheek to your waist, fingertips trailing over your dress until they were on your bare thigh, palm smoothing over your skin. Shivering at his touch, you shifted yourself even closer to him as you accepted the warmth coming off of him, as if he was replacing the setting sun.

Lips parting with a pant, heavy eyes darting from his swollen lips, his tousled hair to meet his own dazed gaze. Watching his eyes drop to the small space between you, to the fabric of the dress that he was fiddling with in one hand.

“Always wearing these little dresses,” he muttered, eyes narrowing on where the fabric rode up to expose more of your leg. His hand on your thigh pushing under the skirt, fingertips gripping tightly on your skin.

Lips nearing your ear, nipping at the spot under the lobe. “Always teasing me.”

Feeble whimper at his words, as he payed close attention to your neck, memorizing which spots made your gasp against him and retaining the subtle hint of your perfume to memory.

All while his hand smoothed over the outside of your thigh, pushing your dress up as he went over your hip. Fingers spreading over the extent of your hips, lightly pinching the skin of your ass. You felt them move over the band of your underwear, toying with the thin material.

“Let me,” he muttered against your skin, voice nearly incoherent. “Le’ me – can I? Please.”

“Yes,” the word was a whine, quick and rushed from your mouth. And his hand dipped down over your underwear and between your thighs. You jolt against him, fingers easily finding and pressing over your clothed clit.

“Fuck me, you’re wet.” His hand palmed over your center, pressing against you in a way that made you press your lips tightly together, head dipping down to the crook of his neck.

A single finger pushed your underwear aside, pushing through your folds. “Soaked through,” humming appreciatively, circling around your wetness.

A whimper against him had him wanting to hear more, other hand moving around your hips as you ground down over his hand.

Suddenly pulling his hand away, you lifted your head up to gaze up at him. Mouth gaping open as you wanted to whine, not a single sound coming out when you watched him slip his fingers past his lips, humming around them tasting you.

“Sweet,” he muttered, wet hand gripping your thigh once again as he trapped your lips in for a kiss. “Hop on my thigh,” he spoke into your mouth, posing it as a question but it was more of a demand.

“Wha’?”

He moved a hand to his own jean covered leg, patting it twice. “Wan’ you to get off on m’thigh.”

Blinking at his words, you found yourself nodding and readjusted with both legs now on the bench, a leg on either side of his thigh. You’d never gotten off this way before, especially not sitting outside on a balcony while the world quieted around you.

“Tha’s it, finally listening to me,” he hummed, hands reaching under your dress to grip your hips firmly. Your own hands wrapped around his neck, gripping onto his hair.

Pressing your heat onto his leg, grinding and rolling onto him. Gasping as you moved back and forth over him, fingers tight in his hair and chest every so often pressing into his. He kept encouraging you, watching every movement and motion you were making on top of him.

“Is it good?” He mumbled, lips sucking between his teeth as he kept his eyes narrowed on the way your hips moved on top of him.

“Yes,” you sighed, finding that sweet spot that sent sparks trough your legs. “’M gonna get your thigh all wet.”

“Good,” fingertips digging into your skin, “want you to.”

Lips stuck between your teeth as you tried to stay quiet, small whimpers building through your throat while he aided you on top of him. “Go a bit’ rougher love, that’s it.”

Grinding tightly on top of him, rough fabric pulling at you in ways you thought it couldn’t. He dipped back down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as he whispered hot words of encouragements.

Winding yourself up as you got off, shivering as he moaned your name into your skin and begged you to cum. Messily rolling your hips as he sucked hotly on a particular spot under your jaw, tension in your stomach building and building until you couldn’t keep your lips tight together anymore.

“Cum f’me, wan’ you to,” Harry grunted into the air when he pulled away from you, eyes focused on the way your eyes shut and teeth pulled at your lip.

“Look so pretty right now, with the sky glowing behind you – fuck, wish I had my camera.”

A string of nearly incomprehensible words urging you on, wanting nothing more than to see you come undone on top of him.

“Harry! Feels so good I’m –”

His mouth met yours as you chased your high, hot open mouth catching your whines in a messy kiss. “Go on,” he spurred, “gimme a good one.”

Tugging at his hair tightly as you found your orgasm, thighs squeezing his as your mouth dropped open. Shuddering against him as your limbs numbed at the intensity, pushing your chest on his with a sharp arch in your back.

You hang off him as your try to even your breathing, his lips finding the top of your head with a series of chaste kisses. “Did so good,” he praises.

Lifting your head after a moment, kissing a line from his cheek to his mouth. Shakily moving a leg to the wooden floor, lifting yourself off of Harry and onto your feet. “You got a bed?”

“Fuckin’ – follow me.” Harry scrambled up behind you, shutting the glass doors that led to the balcony to keep out the flying bugs and the cool night air. He led you through the studio, watching with heavy eyelids as you undid the small buttons that went from the top to the bottom on the front of your dress.

Kneeling on the mattress in front of him, you watched as he tugged his shirt over his head, standing at the foot of the bed in front of you. Immediately reaching a hand to his bare chest, fingertips lightly trancing over the tattoos on his skin until they reached the band of his jeans.

He visibly swallowed as you narrowed your eyes on your fingers, tugging his belt loose and reaching for the zipper.

“Darling,” his voice was clipped, watching your every move. Pulling his jeans past his hips along with his briefs, head tilting further down as your hand wrapped around his length.

He was hard, seemingly painfully so. Especially after your lips pressed to his skin with wandering hands, and especially after you got off on him with his name falling from your lips. Your grasp light, thumb moving over his tip to collect the drops of precum between your fingers, smoothing your palm around him. Inhaling sharply through his teeth, with a tight lipped ‘fuck’ being muttered under his breath.

“’s pretty,” you silently wondered how far back he’d reach in your mouth.

He leaned into your touch, teeth worrying over his bottom lip with a quick exhale. “I – I’m already worked up,” his voice was deep, pulling your attention to his face.

He slowly blinked, shaky breath as you let go of your grasp around his cock. His own hands came down sliding around your back, helping you out of your flimsy bralette. “Let’s get you out of this.”

Eyes falling over your newly exposed skin, as you shifted further back on the bed. He came down on top of you in a blink of an eye, tongue licking into your mouth deeply as you eased you down under him.

His hands were everywhere, cradling your head, massaging your breasts, digging into to your thigh. You accepted him on top of you, feeling his length laying heavy on your thigh as he rutted against you. Lips moving down, seemingly also wanting to lick and suck on every inch of your skin.

“How do you want to –” you didn’t finish your sentence, as Harry’s fingers tugged down your thin underwear, last piece of clothing tossed aside.

“Could have you any way love,” he quickly spoke, propping himself up on an arm to lift himself a bit. “Want you under me though. Want you close.”

Whining at his words, wordlessly begging him to hurry. He suddenly leaned over you, arm reaching aside as he dug through the drawer next to the bed. In a moment he was up on his knees, rolling a condom down his length, and the next he was back on top of you.

“Want you deep,” moaning into his mouth as you felt his cock rest heavy against your thigh, legs spreading as you hooked a leg around his waist.

Shifting his hips, he rubbed himself through your folds, collecting your wetness on his cock. Lips parting as he pushed himself in with a grunt, slowly easing his way in with a pressured stretch.

“Bleedin’ – y’feel amazing,” his voice was quick, eyes squeezed shut as you wrapped around him. “Good?”

“Yes,” you whined, pushing your hips up to meet his. “S’full.”

One hand wrapping under your knee to pull your leg up higher, lips pressed in quick kisses from the corner of your mouth down to your jaw. He slowly moved his hips, pushing deeply into you. Your own hands were tight around him, palms digging into the skin of his back.

He continued with languid thrusts, slow but tough. “S’ this good? You want more?”

“Please,” you whimpered, back arching and head pushing into the pillows as you ached for more. Your hands were wound in his hair, fingertips scratching into his scalp.

“Who would’ve thought,” a smirk lined his lips, though his voice was strained as he started a slow pace thrusting into you. “Suddenly listening to every word I say.”

“Fuck,” you couldn’t conjure up any kind of remark, as he finally pushed into you with force, one hand gripping tightly onto your hip, his fingertips sure to leave marks on your skin.

He was everywhere: his lips on your shoulder, hand flat around your hip, and he was deep.

Keeping a somewhat steady pace, lifting himself slightly over you when he dipped his head down and watched where the two of you connected. “S’pretty cunt,” he moaned, head hovering over yours before his lips slotted over yours in a sloppy kiss.

He pressed inside of you in every right way, the feeling of your second orgasm of the night already building. Tugging at his skin with one hand as you pushed yourself against him, other hand reaching to grip his hand that was currently massaging your chest.

Pulling his hand up, his pace faltered a bit as you pushed his thumb into your mouth. Lips enclosing around it, tongue licking and sucking on the digit. He watched you, eyes narrowed on your mouth.

Releasing it with a breath, his eyes flicked between his hand and your face. Understanding your intention, arm quickly snaking in the space between the two of you until his thumb was on your clit.

“Harry,” you shuddered under him, the sensation in the put of your stomach built. Clenching around him, his lips moved to your neck again with a grunt. “Love m’name on your lips.”

Shifting your hips again, widening your legs around him as you felt him even deeper. The overwhelming sensation of Harry filling all of your senses. “Can’t – please tell me your close, darling.”

“So close,” whimpering under him, “please.” You don’t know what you were begging for, you just needed something, anything.

Fingers gripping you tight as his thumb pressed onto your clit, thrusts getting sloppier but hitting just right inside of you. You had your own hands weaved around his neck, nails digging into his skin as you pushed you head back into the pillow.

“Harry,” you reached you peak, thighs squeezing him tight and chest pushing into his as your back arched. “Tha’s it,” he moaned your name against your skin, easing you through your orgasm. Grip on him tight as you bit your lip so hard you were sure it could bleed, you writhed under his grasp as the high died down.

“I can’t – so good,” his voice was nearly incomprehensible, lips muffled and words nonsensical. Clenching around him, he couldn’t hold back anymore after the way you came around him. He gripped you tightly with a couple final thrusts, calling your name and for god as he came into the condom.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, remaining pressed on top of you as he tried to regain his breath. Your hand moving through his hair, pushing it off his forehead as he kissed you once more before lifting himself off of you.

You stayed still, already feeling a colder without his body heat over top of you. Rolling your head to face with him with a grin, he returned the smile before quickly rising to a seated position on the mattress.

Getting up and going to discard of the condom, he suddenly disappeared from your view completely. “Where –”

Before you could ask, he reappeared with his 35mm in hand, coming over to kneel above you. “Stay still,” he mumbled as you moved to prop yourself up on your elbow, taking a moment to process what he was doing. “’S just your face I promise.”

Nodding with a breathless laugh, pushing one hand over your hair knowing that you surely didn’t look your best.

“Told you to stay still,” he hummed, as you gazed up at him. Inched the lens closer to you, hearing the click of the film a second later as he took a picture.

“Bet I look completely fucked out.”

“You do look completely fucked out.” He laughed, placing his camera next to you as he moved back to sit on the bed.

“Almost done with this roll, want to get this developed as soon as possible.”

#i ... don't know how i feel about this ... feels weird ? i dont know #feels rushed #but i hope everyone enjoys and let me know what u think !#rb / like / send it to ur neighbour #!!!!!#harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #utal

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toplinetommy · 3 years

Note

Could you do 83 and 97 from the fluff/angst list with Tyson Jost?

Long story short, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tyson was just a guy you had gone home with a few months ago, and now it seemed like you were meeting him at his apartment the second he got home from road trips, he was leaving guys’ night early to see you (sometimes even skipping it), you were watching his games even though you swore you weren’t that into sports, and you were each other's number one best friend on Snapchat.

But now his phone in your name had changed from just ‘Tyson Jost’ to ‘tys😋’ and he had added a photo of the two of you to your contact, smiling whenever your name flashed across his screen.

And now here you were, thumbs hovering over your open text conversation with Tyson, the last text being one you sent, telling him good luck before taking the ice for Game 4 of the conference finals. The Avs were trailing the series 0-3, making this a must-win game for the group. Your head was empty of any possible thing you could text him as you watched the handshake line after the Golden Knights had celebrated their series sweep, sending them to the Stanley Cup Final.

You had opted to not send him anything for the first hour, knowing that he would probably want time to be with his team and talk to his family or even anyone else that wasn’t you. After all, you were just two people sleeping together that had happened to now be good friends. Part of you wanted to see if he would message you first, wanting him to let you know how he was feeling without having to read between the lines.

The two of you had been dancing around your feelings for the other for weeks now. It was easy to see that Tyson had been putting in extra effort to see you, spending an equal amount of time between your place and his that was on the other side of town. He had slowly become someone that you weren’t just spending time with between the sheets and giving rushed goodbyes in the early hours of the morning. You started to hang out with some of the guys that lived in his building, he spent time with your roommates when they were around, and he had been more than happy to get you tickets to more than a few of his games.

And the sex. The sex had transitioned from just needy sex where you both were just trying to get an orgasm or two, to memorizing each dip and curve of the other person. It was plenty dirty, and you got to explore with him, but a light had switched one night after the two of you had gotten wine drunk off of the cheap Trader Joe’s brand in his living room. You had taken your time exploring the other’s body, placing soft kisses on the scrapes and bruises littering Tyson’s tan skin, while he sucked soft bruises onto the tops of your breasts, your hips, and your thighs. It was slow and filled with overwhelming emotion on both ends. His thrusts had hit you deeper at a more languid pace than he’s exhibited with you. From then on out, the sex was wild and dirty, but still sweet and heartfelt.

Nothing was said that next morning when you procrastinated getting out of his bed, causing Tyson to go a little more than the speed limit on the way to morning skate. Lingering kisses were left when you said your goodbyes at the door or at the other’s car, kisses on each other’s shoulders and foreheads when you passed by the other.

It was everything you wanted in someone, except he wasn’t yours. And that was starting to become evident as you fell asleep that night with no texts from him after his game, nor a text the following day as you started preparing yourself dinner. Throughout the following day, you continued to think of what to say to him but as the hours passed, you thought your opportunity to talk to him did, too.

The constant opening of your text thread with him was driving you crazy, so you had purposefully left it in your work bag the second you set it down by your front door when you got home. With the neverending slow day you had, your first task of the evening was to open your fridge and find a bottle of wine to pop open.

Hours later into the evening where the city around you is starting to fall asleep, you’re still wide awake on your couch watching the newest episodes of New Amsterdam. A loud knock comes through the door and you frown thinking of how late had gotten. Still, you pause your show and whip open your front door, thinking it’s just the guy your roommate’s sleeping with. But instead of it being the six foot four, blonde, banker, it’s a barely six foot, curly headed brunette that plays hockey.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Tyson starts slowly, noting the confused look on your face as the door swings open to reveal you in your college hoodie and a pair of running shorts. “But, I leave to go back home this weekend until next season and I really needed to see you.”

“So, you waited until the last minute before leaving for the summer?” you roll your eyes. “That makes sense.”

“Can I come in? There’s a lot I’d like to talk to you about.”

And you want to say no, barring the fact that it’s nearing 1:30 in the morning and you have work tomorrow. But the dark circles under Tyson’s eyes and his unruly hair tucked underneath the hood of his sweatshirt has you opening the door further and gesturing for him to take a few steps into your place. Tyson glances around the all-too-familiar living room, noting that the tv is paused on some show he doesn’t recognize, your favorite throw blanket is thrown on the couch instead of folded, all indicators that you still haven’t gone to bed.

“Another sleepless night, huh?” Tyson asks, but it’s more like he’s asking for confirmation that he’s right because he knows you too well. He knew you had trouble sleeping on a frequent basis because at one point he had started falling asleep on the couch next to you instead of in bed since it meant going to bed with you.

“Uh, yeah,” you respond, a knit-in your eyebrows. “I had a long day. What’d you want to talk about?”

Tyson feels weird, he knows exactly what he wants to say to you, but his anxiety is starting to bubble with the unfamiliar space between the two of you as he stands by the front door and you’re leaning against the back of your couch more than a few feet away. He takes a weary step forward, running his hand through his hair and pushing the hood down in the process.

“Sorry for not texting you back, I just wanted to do this in person because that’s what you deserve and I needed time to figure everything out with what’s going on between us. The playoffs were really tough and there was so much pressure to win, more than normal, and it was really defeating to not win a single game in the conference finals. I’ve never been so close, and it still sucks knowing there are two teams playing hockey right now and mine isn’t one of them.”

The sadness and strain in his voice aren’t hard to miss, coupled with his overall disheveled appearance. What he said to you was the exact reason why you didn’t reach out to him first. Knowing Tyson is here out of the goodness of his heart and isn’t here what you don’t think is bad news, you close the distance between the two of you, pulling him into a hug. He sighs heavily as his chin comes to rest atop your head, breathing in the coconut shampoo you regularly use. His hand comes to brush the ends of your hair down, something he had down all throughout your, well whatever this thing was called between the two of you.

You seemingly forget that he mentioned talking to you about things that probably just weren’t the disappointing end to his season. You drag him to the couch with you, hitting play on the tv remote and turning the volume down so you can still focus on the brunette next to you. His thighs are touching yours and he throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. Your fingers toy with the drawstring of his hood out of anxiousness as you wait for either him to speak or for when you find the right words to say to him.

“If it’s any consolation, I think you all played really well, and it’s fuel for the next season,” you assure him, your voice soft and barely above a whisper. Your gaze is focused on the moving doctors on the screen in front of you while he watches the blue light cast different shadows across your face.

“Thank you,” Tyson breathes out. “But I didn’t come here just to be negative and talk about things that already happened that I don’t have control over anymore.”

Your stomach tightens at that, your first thought going to the one that tells you he just came over to get his dick wet then leave for the summer. You start to shift your body to not rest any of your weight on him. But he puts a hand on the back of your head, keeping you against his chest. You can feel his breathing passing through your hair and the rise and fall of his chest underneath you.

“I wanted to talk you about what’s going on between us, and that, uh, you’re the only girl I’m seeing, well, been seeing honestly, like, since-”

“You’re kind of rambling,” you smile, looking up at him. “But it’s okay because you’re the only guy I’ve been seeing, too.”

He smiles back down at you, both of you clearly being on the same page. “I know this is terrible timing since I’m going home next week, but maybe we can plan something where one of us visits the other?”

“I’d love that,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him softly.

#not my favorite thing but here it is!#tyson jost imagine #blurbies #alex writes

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harringtonstudios · 4 years

Text

bail. (part II)

plot: the morning after. part 1!

A/N: SMUT!!!! i don’t think i’ve ever written a part two as fast, thank you all for your encouragement. hope u enjoy :)

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyth @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging

Unlocking your hotel door for the first time this morning felt like a relief. Thanking the hotel manager, you shut the door, slumping against the back of it. Your phone was dead, you had the worst headache in the world, and things had gotten a little more complicated with Colson than you had ever wanted.

Crouching on the floor for a second, you let out a long breath. Thinking through all the things you had to do today before leaving Portland, you walked over to your unmade bed from the night before. Plugging in your phone, you moved aside the sheets, starfishing across the mattress.

In a few hours, you were supposed to be driving everyone to Washington. Your dad was expecting all four of you at his house by dinner and you knew that once your phone charged up, his texts would come flooding in.

You didn’t particularly want to address the whole situation with Colson. It was obvious last night that you weren’t the only one with some type of feelings, especially with the way his eyes had constantly tried to focus on your own. There was something there, and even though confronting it would be the mature thing to do, you kinda just wanted to curl up into a ball and push it all away.

Mentally, you composed a list of reasons why you couldn’t talk to Colson about your feelings.

He’s Rook’s best friend. Rookie basically idolizes him and you would just be getting in the way of their friendship.

You two were supposed to hate each other. That’s how it had been since the moment you met.

He was such a dickhead.

Granted, the last reason wasn’t great, but everything else made sense. Closing your eyes, you made a decision. Your weird crush on Colson needed to end, for both you and your brother’s sake.

Your phone dinged to life and started buzzing almost immediately. Reaching over, you saw your dad’s name flash. You picked up the phone call, smiling to get your tone of voice back to normal.

“Hey dad!” you cheerily greeted, wincing a little at how excited you sounded.

“Y/N, baby. Where are you guys? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning,” he responded, and you could hear the chaos behind him as he crashed around the kitchen.

“We’re just getting breakfast. Can’t drive on an empty stomach,” you lied, gritting your teeth as your voice cracked.

“Breakfast? Honey, it’s 2pm. You haven’t left yet? Is everything okay?” he rambled and you could hear the nervous tone laced in his words.

“Yeah, the guys just had a late night. You know them,” you muttered, brain racing at the fact that it was already mid-day.

“Well, drive fast sweetheart. We’re all waiting for you,” he stated before saying his goodbyes.

Hanging up, you swung your legs around, getting off the bed. Throwing all your belongings into the rolling suitcase you’d brought, you cleaned up. Grabbing the key from the table this time, you dragged your stuff out before walking down the hall to Rook’s room.

“ROOKIE!!! UP,” you shouted, banging on the door. You heard a crash in the room, and you hammered even more, trying to get his attention. The door cracked open, and Rook stood there, eye looking even worse than it had last night.

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled before pushing his door open. His room was decently clean and he was still in the same clothes as last night.

“Get changed, brush your teeth, I’ll pack your shit up,” you pointed towards the bathroom, eager to get this show on the road.

Within a few minutes, you had partially covered his black eye with a light layer of foundation. Throwing him your sunglasses, you handed him both your suitcases.

“Can you go wake up Slim? Make sure he has all his shit in order, then go put everything in the car,” you ordered as he groaned.

“Why can’t you deal with Slim?” he asked, shuffling out of the room.

“You deserve it for making me deal with this fuckery,” you responded, blowing a kiss before closing his hotel door behind you.

Running into the staircase, you walked up to the fifth floor. You were ready to take charge today, brushing away any sense of feelings that may have come out last night.

You had taken Colson’s key last night, just in case something had happened with your room. Keying in, he was still slumped on the bed. You spared him a single glance before getting to work. Shoving things into his backpack, you moved around the room, making sure you weren’t leaving anything out.

After fully packing, you turned towards the bed. Hands on your hips, you thought of the best way to wake him up. After a second, you leaned down a little, nudging his shoulder.

“Hey, get up,” you muttered, shoving him a little rougher. He stirred in his sleep, mumbling something as he moved his limbs around. You gave him a final hard push and he grabbed your arm.

“I’m fucking up,” he grumbled and you twisted your arm. He softened his grip, letting you pull away.

“Good. I put all your shit away, can you change? We needed to be on the road like an hour ago,” you explained, moving back towards the door.

He lazily got up, moving to the edge of the bed before murmuring, “Did you stay here the whole night?” His morning voice was in full effect, and you bit your lip, avoiding him.

“You’re just not gonna answer?” he asked again, and you sighed before saying, “No, I didn’t. Now, if you don’t mind I’m gonna go set up the car.”

Leaving the room, you stood outside the door. You couldn’t just ignore him the whole time, and if you were being honest, you’d rather answer his questions now than later in front of everyone. You hesitated and before you could change your mind, you opened the door again, walking back in.

Colson was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but his boxers and a pair of socks. “Y/N, shit, fuck,” he shouted, reaching something to cover his body with.

Usually, he wouldn’t care, walking around half-naked was his thing. But this time, he was scrambling around trying to hide the evident hard-on he had.

You blushed, realizing that maybe you shouldn’t have just busted in.

“You needed something?” he questioned, pitch a little higher than before. He was holding his stupid, white shirt from last night over his dick and you let out a little laugh.

“Glad you find this funny,” he grumbled, throwing his shirt on the desk. You’d already seen his strained boxers, there was no point in covering anything. You closed the door, moving a little closer to him.

“Not funny,” you said, smiling as he furiously pulled out clothes from his backpack. His eyebrows were furrowing and you could see his frown line as he threw his wardrobe out. Shirts flew up, and within seconds, the room was just as messy as before.

“I just packed those, c’mon,” you scoffed, moving right into his space. Reaching for his backpack, you put your hands around his wrists, stopping his movement. He paused, and you waited for a second before making eye contact.

His pupils were dilated, eyes blacker than blue. It took your breath away, knowing that he wanted this more than you thought he did. His pulse was strong against your fingers, thudding in the silence.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, breaking eye contact. He hung his head down and you bit your lip, all thoughts flying out of your mind at the sound of your name in his voice. Squeezing his wrists a little harder, you leaned in, kissing his forehead.

He lifted his head and you dropped his wrists, moving to be right in front of him. Cupping his face, you pulled him closer, pushing your lips together. He kissed right back, warm heat enveloping your mouth.

Immediately, he pushed you back a little, until your back was straight against the desk. Putting his arms on either side of your body, he moved closer until you could feel his body against yours. He was so warm, radiating heat and you let out a little moan as his dick brushed against your belly.

At the sound of you, he kissed you even harder. You bit at his lip, trying to get a reaction out of him. Moving your arms to lace them behind his shoulders, you scratched at the base of his neck. At the feeling of your nails on his skin, he cursed, breaking the kiss apart to take a breath.

He was panting and you could feel his dick twitch slightly.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

He looked back at you, smirking before getting back to your lips. This time, you opened your mouth wider, letting his tongue slip in.

One of his hands came down, landing at your hip. Gripping it tightly, he grinded his hips, letting you feel every inch of his dick.

“Yeah? You want this,” he muttered, voice low and husky. Your eyes fluttered and then, you were pushing him back. He stood there, and you looked at his body, chest rising and falling as he moved his hair out of his face.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, mostly to yourself before pulling on his hand.

“You have ten minutes. Make me come,” you shot at him, moving to the bed. He looked up at you, eyes wide before regaining his composure.

“Is that a challenge?” he whispered, hands already under your shirt, reaching to pull it off. You nodded and then he was taking off your t-shirt, slightly pushing you down on the bed.

Hovering on top, he kissed your neck, one of his hands dipping behind you. Skilled fingers unclasped your bra and he moved it off before looking up at you.

“Challenge accepted,” he rumbled out and you could feel how wet you were, just at his words.

Moving down your body, his tongue lapped over your nipples twice, warming them before he bit down on one of them. Pulling one nipple between his teeth, you let out a moan, hands going down to his unruly hair. He moved to the other one, biting down again before leaning up to blow cold air on it. The sensation was so different and you arched a little.

“Y/N,” he mumbled and you felt heat start to build at his use of your name. He kissed right between your chest, before putting your nipple in his mouth again.

Sucking it slowly, he used his hand to play with the other one, pinching the nub in between his fingers. Rolling it slightly, he bit the other one a little and the pleasure started pooling.

Looking down at him, you pushed his hair up, trying to catch his eye. Realizing what you wanted, he looked up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. His eyes met yours and you felt your mouth fall open. He waited a second before moaning with you still in his mouth, and you suddenly felt yourself fall right off the edge.

Moaning out loud, you felt your core pulse as he continued to play with you. You tugged at his hair, pulling him up so that you could kiss him, panting into his mouth.

No one had ever made you feel like that just with their mouth and you were a little surprised, not sure if it was Colson or the unresolved sexual tension both of you had.

Moving back a little, he looked down at you, arms on either side of your head. Smiling he whispered, “I win.”

You laughed at his cockiness, pushing him to fall on the bed. Grabbing your bra, you clasped it back on, feeling the tenderness of your chest. Pulling your shirt on, you patted at the warmth on your face, willing it to go away. You knew that all day, you would feel Colson’s fucking mouth sucking and biting at your boobs.

Looking down at him, you smiled. He was flushed, arms tucked under his head. Casually looking at his boxers, you saw that his hard-on was gone, a stain blooming against the material.

“Did I do that?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him once, chaste.

“Mmhm,” he responded, letting his forehead touch yours.

“I win,” you shouted, sitting back up, throwing your arms in the air as a victory.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” he scolded, smiling as he looked up at you. There was no hint of anger in his voice and you felt yourself smile back, knowing that the meaning behind his insults had changed.

Your phone went off and you slowly got off the bed before seeing your dad’s caller ID flash on the screen.

“Shit, Colson change!” you yelled, scrambling to pick up the phone.

“Yeah, Dad. We’re on the road, just a few hours away,” you lied, trying to stop a laugh as Colson started shoving things back in his backpack.

Maybe you had ruined everything by letting your desire take over, but at this moment all you could see was the red of Colson’s cheeks and his smile as he looked over at you, flashing a thumbs up as he zipped his bag close and things just felt good.

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septiembrre · 4 years

Note

Brio #4 a hug after not seeing someone for a long time pls

Ruby & Beth come back from a well-deserved vacation, at least 15 years overdue.

I really thought this was the easy prompt out of the bunch. I thought for sure this one would be just 500 words, a neat and contained ficlet. Oh well, it’s 3k.

I tagged some folks at the bottom, but just because I tagged you doesn’t mean you have to read it, but there’s a note for you down there in case you get around to it. I’m being a brat and posting too much and I know everyone’s busy with their week. Also, what is this hellish October?

Also here on AO3

-----

So I Come To You, My Love

Beth is itchy, impatient ever since they boarded the plane to go home. Or maybe since they made it to the airport… or rather, since she woke up before dawn, her mind racing with anticipation of her 11 am flight.

Ruby had gotten up, wandered somnolent into the kitchen for coffee, and promptly been accosted with the sight of Beth sitting at the kitchen table of their rental with her pile of suitcases fully packed and ready to go. Ruby had rolled her eyes to high heaven and asked aloud for patience.

At this point, Beth was too twitchy to be apologetic, the airport calling to her like a beacon from afar.

Ruby had known that it was only the beginning.

She had shaken her head as they flew along in their rideshare to the airport, Beth silent, taciturn, and unable to make any small talk with their cheerful driver asking them indulgent questions about their trip. She had rubbed Beth’s shoulder as Beth sighed, loudly, multiple times in the line for security, in line for boarding. She had watched as Beth’s eyes had darted to the time on her cell and tracked the clocks ticking on the airport walls.

Again, Ruby had prayed, Heavenly Father, please give me the patience and understanding to not harm Elizabeth Marks, my aforementioned best friend, on this eight-hour flight. Please bring us safely to our journey’s end.

Eventually, they settled on the plane and Ruby… Ruby needed a break. Beth and all of her fidgeting were giving her friend nervousness by osmosis. They should have anticipated it, of course. That this is how their fabulous, three-week, best-friend vacation was doomed to end -- in an anxious fizzle.

So, Ruby went about her process. She popped her ZzzQuil and put on her Nidra eye mask (or as Annie would say, “her eye bra”). Then, she wrapped herself up the plush blanket she had purchased for maximum airplane luxury, fully reclined her first-class seat, and adamantly went to sleep.

It’s in this purgatory that Beth finds herself waiting.

Waiting.

And still waiting.

At first, she tries to watch a movie, and it plays as told on the screen in front of her for two hours. She barely hears a word. Then, she tries to sleep, too.

But, no dice.

And she can’t exactly complain and blame it on the flying experience when she’s sitting in first class. The trip, an international vacation to France, had already been the fanciest thing Beth and Ruby had ever done. They had taken three weeks off from work to do it and that time was a luxury in itself. So, when Stan and Rio had combined husband-partner powers (HPP as Ruby and Beth had toasted to, giggling on the first flight across the ocean) and surprised them, upgrading their seats to first-class… It had been the cherry on top of the icing on the cake.

But, despite all the makings for premium comfort, Beth ends up bringing her seatback upright.

Instead, she passes the time, tapping her heel and staring off into space.

While she knows rationally it’s not true, it feels like the longest eight hours of her life. The last half of the flight stretches out before her but this experience certainly wasn’t as long as any of her births, or as stressful as even half of the situations they had gotten themselves into while criming these past four years.

But, Beth doesn’t ever really do well with prolonged absences from Rio. The anxiety of what it meant before -- ghosting, getting cleaved from the business -- is still something they are working to break from the patterns of their relationship, something Rio is still trying to unlearn as being his go-to answer to emotional conflict.

But, historically it had unfolded the other way around. There had never been a precedent of Beth being the one to smoke bomb out for a few weeks...

Of course, she wasn’t smoke bombing anywhere, slipping away into the ether. This was a long-planned vacation, months in the making, decades in the dreaming. There had been careful plotting to adjust the slack in the printing schedule and there had been deliberate calendering with the children’s summer activities. And well, Rio knew where to find her -- both where her rental was in Paris and where she more permanently lived (with him).

And it’s not like they hadn’t talked every morning and every night and sometimes in between of these past three weeks

God, she feels clingy and codependent and too much like her teenagers. Ruby had called Stan half as much.

And she’s still itchy.

…And kind of oily now?

She keeps scratching at a spot on one of her shoulders, at her palms, blotting at her face.

The people around her are going to think she has some sort of disease.

Except for Ruby, who knows.

So, Beth sits there, tapping, scratching, sighing into the void of time.

And it shouldn’t be so much of a surprise when a little more than halfway through the flight, Ruby’s hand emerges from its blanket cocoon to clamp down on Beth’s jiggling leg. Regardless, Beth all but levitates a foot into the air, gasping.

“Chill out.”

Beth takes a deep breath and tries her best.

Then, she blows out a raspberry. “I can’t.”

Ruby rips off her eye mask, sighing loudly. “You’re such a newlywed.”

“That’s the thing,” Beth says glumly. “We’re not even married.”

“Do you want to be?” Ruby looks over at her best friend, brow furrowed. And she wonders for the millionth time the question she won’t actually voice out loud, What did Rio’s dick do to her friend?

Beth looks back at Ruby, then her gaze shifts away, “No--” It comes out in upspeak, like a question and unsure. She swallows, and tries again, “No.”

Ruby widens her eyes at Beth who cringes, folding into herself. Then, Beth shifts anxiously in her seat, avoiding Ruby’s gaze. “No, I don’t really… care.” Then, Beth grimaces, realizing it obviously sounds like she cares.

“Oh-kay.”

“I just--” Beth starts defensively, “Three weeks has been a long time to be away from home.”

The trip was wonderful, a literal dream -- one they’ve dreamt of since high school. But, the three weeks have been a long time, for both of them.

Beth continues, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat but now that we’ve been, maybe two weeks next time.”

Ruby nods. “I can’t wait to see Stanley. Ugh, to hug Harry.” She hugs her own arms around herself picturing embracing her son. “Sara…” Ruby purses her lips. “Can stay at her photography camp.”

Beth rocks in to nudge her shoulder against Ruby’s, chiding. “You missed her.”

“Let’s just say that I’m glad I took the higher road and got her those damn macarons she wanted.”

“I’m glad we ended up doing that, too. The kids are going to be thrilled, especially Emma.”

Ruby shakes her head fondly. “I love that child. Forever my favorite nibling.”

“Yeah, well Sara is my favorite niece, so don’t be too hard on her.”

Ruby scoffs. “She’s your only niece.”

“And you know, she’s had weeks now to think about it. She’s probably feeling very sorry she said all those things before you left.” Beth consoles, reaching over to hold Ruby’s hand. “Knowing Stan, he’s probably worked his magic on her and you’ll go back and be a perfect family again.”

Ruby shakes her head, then turns against the seat to look at Beth, all charm, “So, who’s your favorite nephew?”

Now it’s Beth’s turn to scoff, “You know Annie would kill me if I didn’t say Ben.”

“Well, she’s not here.”

Beth rolls her eyes. “You know Benjamin is as perfect a child as they come. But, I never see him anymore. He’s always off with his friends and suddenly too old to hang out with his younger cousins, too cool to hang out with his favorite aunt-- and you know I’m not good with teenagers.” Beth shrugs. “And Harry’s eight and a mini version of Stan. It’s just not a fair fight.”

Ruby smiles, pleased, “I’m going to tell Annie.”

“You can’t tell Annie. I told you that under the assurance of secrecy.”

“Bitch, I didn’t give you no assurance.”

Beth sticks her tongue out at Ruby. Ruby scowls at her back. Then, they settle again.

“You have plans with gang boo? Oh, excuse me-- Christopher…” Ruby trills. “--Since you’re anxious as all get out.”

Beth arches back against the seat, fidgeting again. “I’m not anxious.”

Ruby levels her with a look.

“I’m not.”

There’s a beat where Ruby continues to stare at Beth, waiting. Beth rocks her jaw and looks away.

“Why don’t you just text him?”

“I already did when we got on the plane.”

“So… message him again?”

Beth cants her head low, letting her hair fall to obscure her face.

“He’s being… you know how he is.”

“I… do but I’m not sure I want to know what that means.” Ruby pauses, sitting with it. “Oh my god.” She clamps her hand down again, this time on Beth’s wrist. “Does he want you to take naked pictures in the bathroom?”

Beth tries to snatch her arm away, flailing in the seat.

“What if Delta sees your nudes?! Please, tell me you did not do that in that sardine box ten feet away from me, Elizabeth. Marks.”

“I didn’t. I would never.”

Someone a row over shushes them.

Ruby relinquishes her grip to press at her eyebrows. “Y’all are too much.”

Beth shrugs. “He really liked those caftans we bought at that boutique.”

Ruby considers that, thinking about how much she underestimated Christopher Aguilar’s capacity to love her friend. Sometimes it just really is too much to think about. “You got a special night planned?”

“No,” Beth says shortly.

“Mm.” Ruby nods along. “You know that man’s not going to let you out of bed, right?”

Beth flushes, squirming again in her seat. And she feels awkward talking about it, but, God, she hopes so?

“When are you picking up your kids again?”

“Tomorrow night.”

Ruby tsks and looks at Beth knowingly.

“You really don’t want to try to get some sleep? You’re gonna need it. Hell, I’m gonna need it and here you are keeping me up.”

Beth laughs shortly. “You’re one to talk about not getting out of bed. Stan literally wrote you an ode last week.”

Ruby smiles, something soft, small, and happy. “He was trying to compete with Paris.” Then she says, playful. “Almost twenty-five years of marriage and I still got it.”

Beth looks at her friend and opens her mouth looking for the words. She turns to search Ruby’s face and tries to be vulnerable.

Her voice comes out small and a little desperate, “Do you really think he missed me?”

Ruby snorts. “I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up in Paris to crash our trip. The man’s a genie. A genie with a lot of dinero.”

And it’s flattering, the image of Rio flying across the world to find her. Of course, he had stayed right where she left him -- in Detroit, in the middle of nailing down some business with one of his bars -- while she and Ruby fulfilled the dream they had for twenty years now.

It was... something, really something to be flush with cash, for all of the people she loved to be rolling in the riches, to have enough to afford anything she wanted. Security -- what a concept.

But, quickly enough she is so greedy. Beth is already calculating when it would be realistically feasible for her and Rio to take time off together for a trip of their own (maybe a beach this time).

Beth lets out a long, deep sigh.

“B, that man was glued to his phone for any and every picture or text you would send him about what you were doing. He woke up at some god awful time to tell you ‘Good Morning’ and cleared his schedule every day at 5 pm to call you at the end of ours. He missed you.”

She whispers. “I missed him, too.”

“I know,” Ruby says dryly. Suddenly, her hand flies up to push the button for the attendant.

Beth looks at Ruby nonplussed, as the attendant makes their way down the aisle to their seats.

Ruby eyes Beth sternly. “We still have two hours on this airplane and we are going to make the most of it. It’s still our vacation and you need to hold your shit together.”

Pep talk over, she smiles wide at the flight attendant and requests, “Two mimosas, please!”

----

It’s more than two mimosas. When their flight finally lands, Beth and Ruby don’t walk in the straightest line up the jet bridge.

They pause just out of their gate, a big sense of feeling bringing both of them to a standstill. Tipsy, relieved to be off the plane, and home again, vibrant in this feeling of togetherness with each other, they embrace.

“Thank you, friend.”

“I hate your face.”

“God, I never want to see your face again.”

They loosen their hold, dab at their wet eyes.

“Thank you for Paris.”

They tear up all over again.

-----

Once they make it out of their gate, Ruby and Beth stop to use the bathroom. Beth takes the opportunity to smooth out her hair, dab some cold water at her blotchy cheeks, and reapply some deodorant.

She thinks she’s going to jump out of her skin.

Ruby brushes her teeth, and Beth inspired does so, too. They apply lip balm on their chapped lips. Beth pinches color into her cheeks, as Ruby laughs, “He sees you on the daily first thing in the morning. Or do you pull a Midge Maisel on him?”

Beth sticks out her tongue.

As they get ready to move on and Ruby gets a call from Stan, who reports that they are there waiting outside of customs.

Beth all but runs to the international baggage claim, Ruby trailing behind her, watching her best friend with great amusement and a little secondhand embarrassment but she’s excited, too. They get in line at customs, and blessedly it isn’t long and they don’t have enough to declare. Quick enough, they’re buzzing through the doors that announce no return entry.

On the other side are escalators leading them up from the bottom-most level -- international arrivals only -- to the ground floor. Beth files in with her suitcases, behind Ruby.

And as they move further up the escalator, they can spot Stan and Rio waiting for them at the top.

Beth turns to Ruby, “Store on Monday?”

Who nods back, “Store on Monday.”

As they get closer, Beth drinks Rio in and something unsnarls in her soul. He’s in a black t-shirt, his jeans, and a pair of his typically sharp shoes -- dressed for Detroit in June. Her eye zero in on his ink, visible on his neck, the stretch of skin exposed on his arms, his hands clenched at his sides, the scruff on his face. Video has come a long way but, she’s relieved to see him in real detail. She’s relieved that in seconds she’ll be able to touch him, relieved to see that particular warm look in his eyes, the embers in person.

Beth can’t help it -- a smile stretches wide across her face. It really hasn’t been that long, she’s spent decades without him, but she feels giddy, goofy, effervescent. She could float right up to the top of the escalator, straight into his arms. But, gravity is real and she has to wait her turn.

Ruby walks off to greet her Stanley.

And Beth walks up to Rio. He reaches forward to pull her luggage to the side and she pauses in front of him. The magnetism of the inches between their bodies is electric, more dizzying than the champagne on the flight. He just looks so good.

He beams back at her, smiling wide. In the periphery of her vision, she can see his hands twitching.

And-- good.

Beth thinks she could fuck him now, drag him into a bathroom somewhere, but all she wants to do is kiss him.

So, she does.

She steps closer, brushing her nose with his (and doesn’t that feel new? And absurdly tender?). Her lips touch his. And God, it’s soft and she’s smiling into it, and he is, too. He tastes like the mint tea he probably had after lunch. And she has the brief thought that they’re so… dumb. He’s thirty-nine this year and she’s in her mid-forties and honestly, this is ridiculous for their age. It’s only been days and they had so much phone sex. But, this real-life thing, it feels so good.

It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect.

Rio curls his arms around her, smart hands sliding down to palm her ass as he brings her as close as possible. Her hands clutch the back of his neck, feeling the skin there, smelling the musky scent of his cologne, as they cling to each other. One of her hands wanders to trace the sharp prickliness of his buzz cut, and the other one of his twines along the nape of her neck. Heat curls deep in her core, flaring with the feel of him.

Eventually, they part for air. Beth nuzzles Rio’s scruff.

Rio laughs loud, head rolling back and shoulders shaking. Gorgeous.

“Baby,” he looks at her, biting his lip. “You taste like a bottle.”

Beth gasps, insulted. “I brushed my teeth!”

“Okay, champ.” He kisses her again, short this time. “You gonna be able to make it home?”

Then, she kisses him again, playfully pushing her tongue in his mouth. He’s panting when they part. And she can’t help it, she’s beaming.

“The question is, are you?”

-----

The fanfiction I read influences my writing so much. The intertextual winks that stood out to me in this one:

@sothischickshe -- genie word choice ;-)

@foxmagpie for the word ‘CANT’? Girl, were you the first person to wordsmith this? I think you were and it’s the perfect description for half the things Rio does with his jaw. This time I appropriated it for Beth.

#nbc good girls #beth x rio #brio #my writing

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pandoraimperatrix · 4 years

Text

Two Names For Change

Gotham | BatCat | Four Names ‘Verse | Two Shots | Read on AO3

Summary: First he was threatening her all the time with a proposal and now she actually wants one he seems to forget he ever wanted to marry her in the first place. People say that women are hard to understand. They never dated Bruce Wayne.

This is an introductory piece for the actual sequel. The sequel will tell Jason’s story so you can expect angst, this introductory piece however will be pure sugar sprinkled candyfloss cavity inducing fluff.

It got too big so I had to break it in two parts which was nice since I used it to expose myself as a Fairy Tale nerd. Thanks to my mutuals on Twitter for the incentive and Lily for helping me with the title.

Enjoy.

Two Names For Change

Part I – Restoration

"When they found that she was a Princess born, there was another burst of joy, which was almost the death of them; but when she told them the names of the King and Queen, her father and mother, they recognised them as the sovereigns whose dominions they had conquered. They imparted this fact to Finette, and she immediately vowed she would not consent to marry the Prince until they had restored the estates of her father. They promised to do so, for they had upwards of a hundred kingdoms, and one more or less was not worth talking about."

- Finette Cendron by the Countess d'Aulnoy

Selina fell next to Bruce, her heart still racing, she was panting hard. She smiled when she felt Bruce taking her hand and raising their arms over them, the blue glow of the monstrosity that Dick insisted in calling the “Batcomputer” being the only source of light in the room bouncing on their sweaty skin as their fingers laced together.

“You drained me, Cat.”

She let out a throaty laugh.

“You are tired? I did all the work myself.”

“In my defence, you do it so well, can you blame for liking to just lie down and watch?”

She snorted.

“You are such a pillow princess.” Saying that she slipped her hand from his and stood up. Bruce watched with longing and affection as she tried to make sense of the mess her hair had become, her naked form looking surreal under the penumbra of the cave.

“Let’s go to bed. The sun will rise soon.”

She turned back to him, her expression bashful.

“Sorry, B. I have to go home.”

Bruce’s soft smile fell, his jaw tense. Selina winced.

In a quick powerful motion he stood up, pulling his hair up nervously.

“I don’t get why we’re still doing this. You and Helena are here all the time.”

Guilt left Selina’s face and was substituted by annoyance.

“I already told you. I like having my own place.”

“I’m not talking about giving up your flat completely, but it’s stupid that you keep insisting in pretend that you still live there when you’re here all the time. It’s selfish. Helena doesn’t deserve to be keep being dragged from home to home.”

“Fine. She won’t. Because for now on I’ll keep that in mind and remember where we actually live.”

And she turned to leave, when she felt Bruce hug her from behind.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His voice muffled by her hair. “I know what having your own place means to you.” Selina relaxed under him. “And it was wrong to bring Helena up, even though I stand by what I said regarding to her.” Bruce couldn’t see, but Selina bit her lip to control the pang of guilt. “I just hate that we’re not living together.”

Selina sighed and turned in his arms, Bruce’s hands left Selina’s waist and went to her face, holding her curls in place tenderly.

“I know… I’m sorry too. But as you said, I, we are here all the time.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Bruce…”

“Please? Just consider. You don’t have to say yes…” His serious demeanour cracked. “Now.”

She slapped him weakly on the chest.

“You are so full of yourself.”

“I could say the same.”

Selina’s chin fell and she closed her eyes in outrage.

“Oh my god, Bruce! Gross!”

“And yet true.” He mocked.

He could see she was having trouble trying to control the urge to laugh, her lips twitching despite her whole disgusted performance.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” she said as they picked the parts of their scattered suits from the ground “I’m gone.” She turned back dramatically from the stairs. “And I’ll never come back!”

“Don’t forget to bring the things Dick needs for his school project when you come to dinner.”

“Shit, yes, I forgot. Thank you.” A few moments after she was back, but sadly not naked anymore. She eyed Bruce who was sitting on his ridiculously enormous chair, dressed in sweatpants, mug of espresso steaming in one hand as he worked at the computer.

“Didn’t you say you were going to sleep?” She raid running her fingers through his moist hair.

“Didn’t you say you were going home?”

“Your shower is better than mine.” She bended over to kiss him scrunching her nose at the bitter taste of coffee. “Text me later to remind me of Dick’s stuff? What is he doing again?”

“Some flying machine I think. He won’t let me help him. Hardhead.”

“Yeah, I know someone like that. But will you?”

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll text Helena.”

Selina smiled and then kissed him again. This time lasting longer, Bruce put the mug on the table so he could touch Selina, wishing they were back on the floor, with her feverish and wanton all around him.

She purred softly as they parted.

“See you later.” She whispered.

“Cat. Promise me you’ll think about it?”

Selina sighed but nodded before leaving, this time for good.

Bruce used the rearview to spy on his kids. Helena was drooling on her hand, her head on Dick’s lap, her legs folded against her body, very uncomfortable sharing the back sit with Dick who was also asleep and Bruce could hear the hum of the earbud that had fallen one of his ears but was still hanging on one of his knotted curls. The boy was in need of a haircut. They were coming back from a weekend in Metropolis, Bruce was investigating Superman and when the kids learnt that the was going to the city they used all sorts of blackmail and schemes to go with him, in the end it became a whole family trip. He eyes then, Selina, she was looking through the pictures they took on her phone.

“I talked to Lucius about the proceedings to recognize Helena as my daughter.”

“Hmm… And you didn’t think about talking to me about it?”

“I’m doing it now.” He sighed. “I don’t want us to fight about it. I just want to give Helena what is rightful hers, including the Wayne legacy and name.”

“I know… I know… It’s just…”She hugged herself. “I was so afraid someone would take her away from me if I told them she was yours too.”

“I understand, but things are different now. We are different.” He diverted his eyes from the road to Selina, picking her hand and lacing their fingers together, she rolled her eyes, but there was unable to stop her own fond smile.

“We’ll need to talk to her.” She turned briefly to the kids. “I’m not specially attached to my last name, if she wants to ditch it for yours I won’t mind.”

He let the words sit for a while before continuing.

“About that…” His voice an octave higher from his faux absent-mindness.

“Too soon.” She said dryly.

The car shook when he suddenly pushed the brakes the kids didn’t wake but mumbled annoyed.

“Meaning that eventually will be the right time?”

She bit back a smile at his excitement.

“I guess? I don’t know why you make such a huge deal out of this.”

“Because I love you, that’s why.”

She looked away shaking her head.

“You are so cheesy.” Her smitten tone brought a pleased smile to Bruce’s face that broadened after her thumb started rubbing his hand absently.

Two years later, Selina had been sending signs that she was ready for what she feels like ages but nothing happens. And Bruce being Bruce she can never pinpoint when he actually is trying to create proposal settings to troll her or just being his usual sappy self. But after a while when a walk on the beach by the sunset when they took a trip so San Francisco for Dick’s fourteenth birthday was just a plot to convince her do it on the sand – and she found sand in weird places for weeks. All dinner dates in fancy restaurants were only PR appearances. And all special homemade desserts just because he liked to cook to her, it started becoming ridiculous.

She was ranting about that as she folded laundry and drank wine. Barbara was just drinking the wine. Heaven forbid her royal Kareness to help do any housework.

“But have you told him you want to tie the knot? I actually don’t know why the wait, how long have you been together since he came back? Four years?”

“Three. And no, but wouldn’t that be like proposing to him?”

“Well, kinda. I didn’t think you from all people would care about that.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t care about tradition, and shit. But have you any idea of how full of himself he’ll be if I’m the one to propose? I can see his already giant head inflating and flying him to space.”

Barbara laughed.

“Sorry, kiddo. I don’t know how to help you. Nobody proposed to me either.”

“Really? I thought Gordon did, back in the day.”

“He did. Sort of. We talked about it. Even thought all the shit that happen later I’m glad we never got to do the white picket fence, 2.5 kid scenario. That was no life for me. And as much as I’m grateful for how good he is to Babs, I couldn’t take five minutes of Lee’s life.” She shivered. Selina snorted.

“Would you have married Tabby? If you could back then?”

“I don’t know.” She chuckled. “Do you think she would’ve married me?”

“Oh man, imagine how extra that would have been. All rogues in one single place. I’d be the maid of honour, of course. Ivy providing de the décor with some poisoned flowers, Oswald throwing a fit because you were getting more attention than him. Do you think anyone has a minister’s licence?”

“I did something like that to punish Jim. Wore a dress and all” she snorted “I was one crazy bitch back them. Tabby helped.”

“Geez. I don’t even get to imagine a fucked up scenario because reality in this city is crazier.”

“We were so much worse before Tabby took you in. I sometimes wonder if you were what grounded us a little.”

“Really? Because you were such a bitch to me when I went to live with you guys. I used to miss vanilla straight Barbara a lot.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I was jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Tabby. She gave up on me and took you as her new little project.” Barbara rolled her eyes dramatically. “And there was Butch.” She groaned.

“Now I’m very happy that I didn’t have the same destiny as him.”

“Oh kitty-cat, I was jealous but I loved you. I always did. I might even have been jealous of you too. You were my little project first.”

Two weeks and a family picnic on the Wayne state organized by Alfred, regular post-coitus moon bathing on the roofs and a very interesting day on a boat only the two of them after, nothing changed, except that Holly was home and spread on the carpet with Selina. Her head on the lap of her surrogate mother as Selina played lazily with the strands of hair that were dyed in a fading blue. The girls were in Helena’s room playing videogames. And Barbara was coming from a kitchen a batch of something supposedly drinkable on a tray.

Selina wrinkled her nose.

“What is that?”

“My favourite, alcohol.”

“No thanks.”

“Why not? What’s the point of girl’s night without getting wasted?”

“My stomach is hurting. Bruce took me to that new Indian restaurant three days ago. I’m too white for that.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I have seen you eat rock.”

Holly snorted, Selina pulled her hair not hard enough to hurt enough to send a message.

“Ouch, Selina!”

“I’m getting old, I don’t know Barbara, if I wanted a doctor I’d have called Lee.”

They continued their chatting though the night, Holly telling them all about college drama and they trash talked their mutual friends until they all fell asleep. Selina woke up feeling horrible. Everything was dark. Even Helena’s room was silent. She pushed Barbara’s legs off her lap and got up from the sofa, dragging her wobbling legs to the kitchenette. She barely made to the sink before empting her stomach.

Shit.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Fuck, Barbara! Don’t do that!”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She said is a shaky voice, wiping her mouth. “Maybe I should see a doctor.”

Barbara looked at her with one eyebrow arched and folded arms.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just having a déjà vu now.”

Selina widened her eyes in horror.

“No…”

“You said that too back then.”

“Fuuuuuck.”

The wave of nausea hit again, but now there was just bile. She was still hiccupping when Barbara made her sit down.

“Is it possible?”

Selina just glared at her.

“Very possible, then.”

“I mean. We use protection, mostly. You know I can’t take the pill. But I had my period.”

“Did you?”

“Yes!”

“Did you?”

Selina shut up for a second counting and then she covered her face in realization.

Barbara laughed and walked across Selina returning to the living room. She shook Holly awake.

“Wake up Holly, dear. We have a baby shower to plan.”

Pleeeeeease reblog my work if you liked it. It really helps me out. Thank you.

#batcat #bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #gotham #helena wayne #Four Names for Love #two names for change

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letsyesnomaybe · 4 years

Photo

Never Gonna Wanna Let Me Go | Part 6

Zayn Malik is one of the highest paid escorts in London. He’s good at his job, he knows this. But it’s not his chosen field, it’s easy money so he can have a chance to pursue his chosen field without becoming homeless. His employer Caroline has many rules to keep him safe but Zayn only has one ‘Don’t Get Attached’. Of course, there was always going to be one, the guy who would come in to the picture and make Zayn’s easy job almost impossible.

Liam Payne. Twenty Six. Made his money by inheriting his father’s music business after he passed away. Quite well known so expect publicity. Wants a pretty face on his arm to cover the events he has to attend while in town on business. Make sure he knows if he wants extra he has to pay. You’ve got your usual expenses on your card, don’t go overboard like last time. I mean it, Malik! Your share for the weekend will go in your account on Monday when you’ve done your job.

Love you babes, stay safe, C x

Part 1, 2 ,3, 4 & 5 (also on ao3)

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

Those were the last words Louis had breathed before he’d walked out of the hotel room and out of Zayn’s life. He was eighteen and heartbroken and he swore from that day, he’d never let another person break him the way Louis had.

“It’s worse than it was then,” Harry whispers to Niall, when he thinks he’s out of Zayn’s hearing. “He was heartbroken over Louis but this, it feels like it’s so much more.”

“He’s a smart lad,” Niall would always reply. “He knows what he’s doing.”

Harry would always sigh, as if it wasn’t the answer he wanted to pacify his worry over his best friend. He’d always come to Zayn afterwards, curl up next to where he was binge watching the walking dead or spread out on the floor of the art room, to watch him paint.

Zayn knows he’s trying to be a good friend but now he’s not working, there’s no escape. It’s twenty four seven Harry and as much as he loves the lad, it’s a little too much of him to handle.

It’s been four days since he left Liam at the cabin (not that he’s counting) and quit his job with Caroline. It takes Niall and Harry’s usual morning activity to push him out of the house.

He only goes twenty minutes down the road, to their local café and tucks himself at the back with his laptop, hoping to get some graphics done that he could sell to local business for a tiny bit of income.

But he’s barely there ten minutes when intrusive thoughts lead him down a different path than intended.

He’s a glutton for punishment, he thinks, as he googles Louis’ name and gets greeted with thousands of articles about him and Stella because they had recently announced they were expecting a baby boy.

Zayn slams to laptop shut when he sees a cosy photo of them in Paris where they’d travelled to the night of his championship win for a little R&R.

He decided to head back to the flat, hoping the hour he had been out of said flat would be enough time for his friends to get done with their activities.

The moment he steps foot back in his apartment, all he can think about is Louis, he can’t get those stupid blue eyes and curled smile out of his mind.

Which is probably why the moment he gets to his room, he absolutely rips it apart, trying to find one particular thing.

He finds it tucked in the very back of the draws he keeps his hoodies and he has to give it a hard tug from where it had managed to jam itself in the corners of the drawer.

When he finally gets the little brown envelope out from inside the drawer, a polaroid falls out on to the floor. When he picks it up he’s greeted by the image of two grinning boys. Two young lads who don’t know the world yet and had no idea of the pain they were about to cause one another.

The only other thing in the envelope is a key to an apartment that Zayn had never visited.

‘I want you to have a place where you’re safe,’ Louis had said. ‘It’s yours, for whenever you’re ready.’

“Zayn?!” Harry calls out suddenly.

Zayn shoves the key and polaroid back in the envelope and tucks them it back where it was.

“Z?!” Harry calls again, only this time closer.

“I’m here.” Zayn calls back.

Harry’s head pops around Zayn’s bedroom door and he gives him curious eyes.

“What?” Zayn asks sharply, which he instantly regrets when Harry’s lips twitch in a way they only do when he’s upset.

“Liam’s here,” Harry tells him softly. “I said he was only allowed to see you, if you wanted him to. If not, then me and Ni will throw him out.”

“I’d quite like to see you try and throw him out.” Zayn teases.

“I’m stronger than you think, Malik.” Harry retorts and a big smile graces his lips, the earlier hurt easily forgotten. “So, shall I send him down?”

Zayn nods his head but before Harry can leave, he calls after him.

“Yes, darling?” Harry asks, the grin still gracing his lips.

“Don’t stick around to listen, okay?” Zayn pleads. “It’s probably not going to be nice but I’m good, yeah?”

Harry looks curious but nods his agreement before continuing out of the room.

Zayn doesn’t know what to do with himself and he’s spends so much time fretting over if he should sit or stand that he’s still stood dumbly in the middle of the room when Liam appears in it.

“I thought you wouldn’t see me.” Liam admits as greeting.

Zayn shrugs and tucks his shaking his hands in to his pockets because if he’s honest, he thought he wouldn’t see Liam again, not in person anyway.

“I’ll get straight to the point then.” Liam decides and rustles around in the back pocket of his jeans for a few seconds.

Zayn raises his eyebrows because his curiosity is slightly peaked and if it is something painful, at least he’ll be amused when he has to call Harry back for him and Niall to attempt to throw Liam out.

“I was packing my things and this fell out of my bag,” Liam explains and holds out the drawing Zayn had done in the hotel room. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

Zayn stares down at the crumpled paper that contains a real life drawing of a heart that he’d converted in to a home.

“I thought it was about Penny,” Liam admits. “I thought it was your way of saying that the people we loose will always have a home in our hearts. But that’s not the meaning behind it, is it?”

Zayn looks to him and then back to the drawing.

“Is it?” Liam asks a little more desperate.

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” Zayn tells him and tries to hand the drawing back.

Liam snatches it from his hand. “That’s bullshit.”

“I can’t tell you what the drawing means to you, Liam.” Zayn says with a shrug.

“I don’t care what it means to me,” Liam argues. “I want to know what it means to you. Why did you draw it?”

“I draw a lot of things that have no meaning.” Zayn replies and folds his arms.

Harry snorts loudly from the other room.

“I told you to fuck off, Styles.” Zayn shouts at him.

There’s a scramble and then a loud crash before the door to Zayn’s room opens and Niall’s head pops in.

“We’re heading out,” He informs Zayn. “If you need us then give us a ring, yeah?”

Zayn drags his fingers through his hair and nods his head.

“If Liam was going to kill him I’m sure us being here wouldn’t stop him.” Niall shouts at Harry as he must lead him out of the flat.

Liam steps towards Zayn as the sound of the front door closing echoes through the flat.

“Did you draw this because you’re trying to tell me you’re letting me in to the only place that’s yours to protect?” He asks. “The last place you’re allowed to call the shots on who comes and goes.”

Zayn stares at the crumpled paper in Liam’s hand. “It’s just a drawing.”

“I know Louis was let in and he didn’t treat it well but we’re not the same people, Zayn.” Liam tries.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Zayn scoffs.

“What don’t I get?” Liam pleads.

“He trashed the place but you still broke the windows,” Zayn replies and moves away from Liam’s touch. “You both lost your right to the key, the way you went about it doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Liam tells.

‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’ Louis echoes in his head. ‘I love you, Malik, maybe not in the same way but I still want to take care of you--’

“Shut up!” Zee cries.

Liam hushes him like he’s a small child throwing a tantrum. “It’s okay, Z, you’re okay.”

The nickname cuts Zayn deep and he takes a step back, to put space between him and Liam.

“What did Louis tell you?” He asks, thanking the heavens above that his voice holds out and doesn’t crack.

“He told he that he was a dickhead who really hurt you,” Liam explains. “He shouldn’t have done what he did, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Did he tell you that I was barely an adult when we met,” Zee starts because the anger he’s been harbouring for the past six years is finally bubbling over. “I was a kid and his manager used to pay me to fuck him because he was terrified Louis would be one of the braves ones and would come out and then he wouldn’t see as well.”

“That’s disgusting.” Liam decides.

“Right?” Zee agrees and then laughs but it’s not joyful, it’s pained. “We used to talk about it, after the fucking was done. We’d talk for hours about how much of a dickhead his manager was and how homophobic his chosen career path was.”

Liam looks sad like it was something he’d already been told but Zayn’s too far gone, he’s finally letting him relive the memories he’d buried deep for so many ears.

“Falling in love with him was so easy,” Zayn decides. “Christ, he only had to suck my dick good once and make me laugh a few times and I was gone.”

‘I’m not gay,’ Louis’ voice echoes in his head. ‘It was like shagging a mate, there weren’t any feelings involved, I’m sorry’.

Zayn should have known really, they never really kissed and when the sex was done they wouldn’t touch. They would share a blunt and talk about fixing the world but the conversation never really went deeper than that, they never really got to know each other past the obvious.

He knows now, what it’s like to shag a bi guy who leans more in favour of girls. Louis could get hard for a guy, he can find men attractive but for some reason when it comes to anything more than physical, his brain won’t let him get passed it.

He remembers being so cruel when Louis had finally ended it, he’d told him he was as bad as the people who had forced them together in the first place and the hurt expression Louis had given him following that outburst still haunts him to this day.

But he knows now, Louis was a kid himself, he was trying to figure out himself too. It was sad that he had to use Zayn to do it but Zayn doesn’t resent him, not for that anyway.

“Zayn?” Liam asks softly, after a silence had fallen over them for quite a long time.

“I need you to leave,” Zayn decides because he’s about to break apart all over again and he doesn’t want Liam here for that. “Can you leave, please?”

“That’s what you want?” Liam checks.

Zayn nods his head but can’t lift it to meet the younger lad’s eyes.

“Alright,” Liam agrees “I’ve got a plane to catch anyway.”

“You’re going to LA?” Zayn asks, finally looking up.

Liam nods, looking hopeful. “The offer is still there for you to come with me?”

“What as this time?” Zayn replies spitefully. “Can’t be much left on the roaster, right?”

Liam nods, taking the hit because he must know he deserves it. “Well, it’s there if you want it, I’m sure Caroline has Amara’s number, she can book you a flight, if you change your mind.”

“I don’t work for Caroline anymore,” Zayn informs him, though he’s not sure why he has a need for Liam to know that information. “But I won’t be needing Amara’s number so I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t work for Caroline anymore?” Liam asks shocked.

Zayn shrugs.

“Why?” Liam pushes.

Zayn shrugs again and drops his gaze to Liam’s stupid air max trainers, they’re the most recently released ones and it’s just a reminder of how much money is in this guy’s bank account.

“Why, Z?” Liam pleads this time.

“Because I’m done,” Zayn answers finally and looks back up to meet Liam’s eyes. “It’s my turn to call the shots over my body and life.”

Liam steps forward tentatively. “Come to LA with me?”

“You can’t buy me anymore, Liam.” Zayn reminds him.

“I don’t want to,” Liam promises. “I want you come willingly, I want you to come because you want to, I want you to come because...”

“What?” Zayn demands when the sentence trails off.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Liam concludes. “You’re so fucking much, Zayn. You’re too much and I probably don’t deserve you but if you were willing to give me a shot I’d really hope you could fall in love with me too.”

“It’s been one week.” Zayn says a little breathless because he wasn’t expecting love.

“My sister always said I went in to things heart first with my head taking a long time to follow,” Liam admits and reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. “She said it what made me such a good song writer but it has led to a lot of heartbreak in my lifetime, I’ll admit.”

Zayn lets that information sink in to his brain and realise he’d spent a lot of their time together, putting a lot of his past traumas on to this boy, all because of who had made their interaction happen. He’d never thought there would be a chance that while he was so focused on his own haunting memories, the beautiful boy he’d been spending his time with might have been returning his feelings.

“It was her on the phone.” Liam tells him.

“What?” Zayn asks confused.

“It was Roo, my sister, she was who I was talking to when you overheard the conversation.” Liam explains. “She worries a lot, if I told her I was with you at the cabin, I would have got a lecture.”

“Because you were falling in love with a prostitute?” Zayn asks because hearing that conversation had still hurt him.

“I rang her on my way back from Scotland,” Liam continues with a sad smile. “She called me an idiot, said I had my very own pretty woman moment and I’d been the idiot who had let it go.”

“If you’d tried to climb up out fire escape you would have probably died.” Zayn admits. “It’s not safe, at all.”

Liam looks very confused by that response.

“You really need to watch the damn film if you’re going to reference it, Liam.” Zayn says frustrated.

“We could watch it on the plane to LA?” Liam suggests. “I have a meeting with Simmons but I was thinking there might be a few studios we could check out.”

“I don’t--”

“Want my money,” Liam finishes for him. “I know, I thought about that--the hour long flight back from Scotland was a long one, okay? I had a lot of time to plan and think.”

Zayn nods for him to explain his idea.

“I’ll buy a studio,” Liam starts and when he’s sure Zayn isn’t going to interrupt. “Then when your art starts making money, you can pay me rent for that studio.”

“It’ll be at a discounted price?” Zayn guesses.

“I could think of another form of payment.” Liam jokes, it’s a bad one considering how they met.

Zayn frowns.

“It was a joke,” Liam assures him. “It’ll of course be at a discounted price but I don’t even know if it’ll have to be, I’ve seen your art, Z. The kids in LA, they’re going to lap that shit up, lots of rich trust fund kids have nothing better to do than pretend they understand your art.”

Zayn snorts. “Great, I’ll be pouring my heart and sole in to pieces for them to be hung up in rooms of rich college kids so they can stare at them to stop themselves coming to quick.”

“If you don’t like that idea,” Liam says quickly. “We have a design team at the label, they work with artists for like album covers and posters and shit. They could really do with an artist like you, someone to think outside the box.”

“You really have thought this over.” Zayn observes.

Liam nods his head several times. “The minute you left the cabin, I couldn’t think of anything but how to get you back.”

“You love me?” Zayn checks again.

Liam nods, the smile Zayn adores taking over his face completely. “I love you.”

“Fuck,” Zayn replies and finally closes the gap between them. “I think I love you too.”

“You do?” Liam asks, worrying his lip between his teeth.

Zayn reaches his hand up to tug it out. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Liam replies.

Zayn’s the one who leans in and seals it with a kiss but Liam’s the one who slips a hand around his back to tug their bodies completely together, not an inch of them not touching.

They stand like that for the longest time until Harry and Niall’s overpowering personas fill the apartment again.

Zayn breaks the LA news to Harry softly but it’s Liam who makes the news easier for his best friend by promising to fly them both out whenever they want for however long they want.

Harry still looks a bit reluctant but it’s one simple gesture that has an easy smile pulling at his lips and it’s Liam kissing Zayn on the cheek before he gets up to help Niall make a round of teas. The moment a happy smile pulls at Zayn’s lips, it mirrors on his best friends and like that he knows he’s got his blessing.

#there's heavy zouis featured to round this fic up #sorry my otps have always been fucked #but mushy ziam in the very end to make up for it #ziam #ziam fic #writing #ngwlmg #zayn malik #liam payne #also currently writing an epilogue because I can never write fics like this without one #sorry if this is just filling peoples dashes and no one cares #but I need it done

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tarteausuga · 4 years

Text

killing boys

Jaehyun (NCT) x Reader [x Chaeyoung (Twice)] angst, implied wlw cw: cheating, strong language, sexual content word count: 2.1k Inspired by killing boys by Halsey

"You're killing people." “No, I'm killing boys. Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go." "You're my best friend, and I wanna help you. But I won't let you kill again, that's a lose-lose."

You could only describe it as the worst pain you've ever felt in your life. Even worse than that time your older brother body slammed you while you were "playing WWE" with him and you ended up breaking your arm in 2 spots and a broken collar bone. It was even worse than the period pains that felt like someone was jamming a blunt knife into your abdomen. The only thing was that it wasn't a physical pain or something your body was actually experiencing physiologically. It was the strongest emotional pain ever and it threw your life for a loop.

Eating was the last thing you wanted to do and you had run out of people to vent to about the current worst thing that's ever happened to you. But your childhood best friend always had a way of making her way into your life at the best/worst times.

Chaeyoung was always a free spirit compared to your more grounded personality. She was usually always out doing something while you were at home watching Netflix. She would occasionally show up at random times, knocking on your window when she needed a place to sleep for the night. But she always had a keen sense of how you were feeling because her visits, despite his chaotic she was at times, calmed you from whatever was going on in your life.

"Hey Charlie Brown, what's up?" She says the moment you open the front door of your house. She had arrived with two bags full of convenience store food: three of each of your favourite chocolates, drinks, chips and anything else you could want in the moment.

"When are you going to stop calling me that?" You form a weak smile as she drops the bags onto the floor before pulling you into one of her signature chokeholds that are her version of hugs.

"Never. You're my lovable loser. Bedroom, I brought your favourite foods and your favourite movies." She doesn't even wait for you to say yes. You quickly rustle up the bags before peddling up after her.

She's greeted by the mess that was your room. Normally fairly neat and tidy, it looked like a hurricane had ripped through as you attempted to erase any memory or any chance of an object conjuring up an unwanted memory that would cause you that unbearable pain again. Chaeyoung glanced at you empathetically as she waded through the waste and jumped onto your bed. She pulled the laptop out from the bag and turned it on before patting the space next to her for you to join her.

The two of you watched the movie without speaking much to each other. The only noises were from the movie and the crinkling of wrappers as you satiated your hunger with the junk food - exactly what you needed.

"So what did the jerk do?" Chaeyoung finally said when she felt that you had a full enough belly to not collapse into a ball of misery and self-pity.

"He was caught with another girl. My friends saw him around town with a girl on his arm. He tried to play it off like she was his cousin but you don't kiss your cousins." You say glumly. You had told this story to so many people that it didn't even hurt anymore.

"What an idiot. Haven't I told you? Jung Jaehyun was and always will be an ass hat." She chuckles as she leans back on her hands.

"I guess but I've had a crush on him for so long..." You say while playing with the candy wrapper in your hands.

"Right when he completely ignored you in high school and let those dumbass basketball guys make fun of you. Ass hat." She chuckled but this time, out of spite. Chaeyoung was quite known around your old high school of being the tough girl despite her small size. She called out anyone and everyone when they needed to be put in line and every guy was terrified of her as she was known to air out their dirty laundry if they humiliated a girl they dated. She's stood up for you on countless occasions but when you drifted apart in high school, you fell out of her protection as your new friends were unsavoury people to Chaeyoung. "He only started dating you when you became hot."

"Shut up." You threw the wrapper at her but she was right.

You had graduated a little over 2 years ago and that's when you started becoming more confident in yourself. You carried yourself better and that's when he started to take notice of you. He had made up this elaborate story that he had liked you since high school but deep inside, you knew that wasn't true. You just lied to yourself because you were finally getting the boy of your dreams.

He was just that. He was everything you wanted until he wasn't. You were convinced that he was the love of your life until he wasn't. Everything was an illusion because apparently, this was not the first time he has cheated on you or any other girl. Despite the warnings, you wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt you… Until he did.

"I thought he was the one, Chae." You say glumly again.

"It can feel like that but I don't believe in it. There are plenty of people out there who would treat you like the peach that you are. Cheer up, Charlie Brown." She nudged you with her elbow with a wink.

She started calling you Charlie Brown when you two became obsessed with the Peanuts comics in middle school. Chaeyoung loved that he was a lovable loser and said that he reminded her of you. She proclaimed that she was Peppermint Patty and you agreed because Chaeyoung was always out there with the most absurd thoughts and ideas.

You had moved on to the second movie and you were now cuddled up with your best friend on your bed. You were about to fall asleep when she suddenly sat up, shocking you out of the sleepy state and said, "let's ruin Jung Jaehyun," with a smile.

"What?" You rub your eyes, "Chaeyoung, no. It's not that big of a deal. I'll get over it."

"Not a big deal my ass. C'mon, ___, we need to teach him a lesson. Show him that he can't just go around sticking his dick in random places without consequences. It's our duty to any future woman that he might hurt." Chaeyoung says passionately.

You sigh and think about it before admitting defeat. "What are you planning?" You rub the bridge of your nose knowing she has already come up with an elaborate plan of some sort.

---

You park your car a block away from Jaehyun's house as instructed by Chaeyoung but you start having second thoughts. "This is a bad idea, Chae. Let's just go back to my place and finish that movie."

"Don't back out on me now! We're here, let's get it done." She almost hisses at you and you start wondering why she holds so much hate for Jaehyun all of a sudden.

Chaeyoung had always been protective of you from the day you two met in kindergarten. A bully had tried to take the chocolate chip cookie your mom had packed for you to help ease your nerves from your first day at school. You just sat there and cried when Chaeyoung came out of nowhere and snatched the cookie back, said some choice words and gave it to you. Though you had drifted away when high school started, you made new friends in high school from your club activities and Chaeyoung joined cheerleading, she always kept an eye on you. But she's never gone to this extreme.

"We've done some crazy things in the past, Chae, but this is literally illegal. We could go to jail for this!" You grab her wrist.

"Only if we get caught!" She yells in a hushed tone. Her eyes had changed into something more menacing than before.

"Why are you doing this?" You hiss back.

"I can't just standby and let that asshole get away with hurting someone I love." She shakes her hand free and gets out of the car before you can stop her.

In the time it took you to unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car, she was already at Jaehyun's house. You told her everything. The spare key was under the third flower pot on the right. He was usually at basketball practice at this time, then he would go hang out with the boys. It was Friday night so his parents were out for their weekly date night. This used to be the time where you and Jaehyun would have sex as you had the house to yourselves…

Chaeyoung's plan was simple: key his car. Sneak into his room and spray paint something (she didn't tell you what), sneak out and go home.

It was too late to stop her since you weren't a fast runner and you knew perfectly well that it was impossible to stop your best friend from doing anything once her mind was set. All you could do was wait.

You tapped your foot impatiently, trying to make the time go by faster to no avail when suddenly, you heard yelling from down the block. The next thing you knew, Chaeyoung was sprinting down the road yelling at you to start the car. You fumbled with your keys as you tried to do as she said and finally got the engine to start when she hopped into the passenger seat.

"JUST DRIVE" She yelled breathlessly.

You instantly stepped on the gas and look in the rearview mirror to see Jaehyun standing there, furious.

"What the hell happened?" You demand from Chaeyoung.

"That fucker." She laughed as she sunk into the leather of the car seat.

"Chaeyoung!" You glare at her, your knuckles going white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

"So I keyed that ridiculous car of his and went into the house, no problem right? I mean I took a little longer on the car than I wanted but that was great penmanship considering I was using a damn key but anyway!" She continues, "fuck man, I go in and I just hear shit. It kind of freaked me out because you said the house would be empty right? But I'm like okay whatever, I go to his room and there he was balls deep in some girl." She can't help but laugh and even though you want to cry, you join her. "I'm so sorry Charlie Brown but you deserve so much better."

"Yeah, I know." You stop the car at a red light. You take her hand in yours and kiss it, "Thanks for that, Chae. I needed it."

"Anything for you." She smiles and pulls you in for a kiss.

You pull away with a gasp and look at her with wide eyes before diverting your attention to the road and continuing driving in silence. Your focus was solely on the road as you attempted to try and avoid the feelings you could possibly be feeling. While you were doing this, you failed to notice that Chaeyoung’s energy was dwindling, something she rarely lets other people see. All you could do was drive.

The car pulled up to the curb of Chaeyoung’s house and you put it into park. You finally turned to your best friend and saw how small she truly was for the first time in your life. You easily had a head of height on her but her energy was always so strong and exuberant that her physical size wasn’t even on your mind. But in that moment, she looked so small and vulnerable. The one who was always standing up for you and protecting you has a weakness: you.

“Chaeyoung…” You say quietly but she cuts you off.

“It’s okay, Charlie Brown. It was the heat of a moment thing. Something Bonnie and Clyde would do, you know?” she pasted a smile on but you could’ve sworn you saw her wipe a tear from her eye.

“You’re my best friend, Chaeyoung. We shouldn’t complicate that.”

“You’re right, we shouldn’t do anything. Really, ___. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Like always.” She patted your hand that was gripping the gear shift with white knuckles. “Until next time.” Once again, she slipped out of the car before you could react and disappeared into the house by the time you got out to try and talk to her.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct blurbs #twice scenarios #twice imagines #twice blurbs #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop blurbs #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun imagines #chaeyoung blurbs #chaeyoung imagines #chaeyoung scenarios #jaehyun angst #chaeyoung angst

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jeonggukingdom · 5 years

Text

dick on the go (m)

❖ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

❖ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Crack

❖ Summary: It was all shits and giggles when you and Taehyung were desperate seniors in High School, having no idea what to do with your lives, wondering if you’d ever find a decent job or even graduate in the first place. It is not so funny anymore when you come home from the big city to enjoy your vacation time and you find his sex-shop right in front of the house you grew up in when you were a kid. “If nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He had said one time. Shit, you had no idea he actually meant it. ❖ Word Count: 20.752 words

❖ WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, cuss words, masturbation, oral (giving/receiving), rough sex, daddy kink, use of several toys, hair pulling, a drop of orgasm denial, unprotected sex, very subtle degradation.

You take a deep breath, your gaze fixed on the familiar scenery outside the train’s window, and it almost feels like your insides are unclenching and relishing in the feeling of being free after so many months lived squished together.

You have made this journey back and forth hundred times in the past five years or so and you know every inch of the road by memory but it doesn’t hinder its healing effects on both your body and mind.

The ride is a couple of hours long but you do enjoy every last bit of it, at least when it’s bringing you back home.

Your home is more than just a place with four walls and a roof on top, no, home is your roots an, ultimately, that inner part of you, the true self you are forced to hide under fake masks to survive in the city.

Big cities can be beautiful, definitely entertaining and fun to go to because they offer so many possibilities but they also require for you to have a shield around your heart, a persona to protect your inner and most delicate self for there is no space for peculiarity among thousands and thousands of similar-looking people. You are simply a part of the mass that nobody would recognize or even care to.

There was a time when you felt like a big fish in a very small pond but after living in the city for such a long time you came to realize you are nothing but a very tiny drop into the endless sea. Insignificant, quickly replaceable and definitely not that unique.

In your hometown, there are many that envy your work, your reputation and there are many more that strive to arrive where you did, to leave the countryside and become a person of the city.

It’s not that you hate the city per-say, you wouldn’t live there if that were to be the case, but in your far smaller hometown it feels like you can breathe again as if you were holding your breath for a long time without even realizing it.

Every mile the train eats with its speed is one step closer to freedom and Lord knows how much you have missed this feeling.

The day is coming to an end when you finally arrive at the train station, sky tinted in bright hues of orange and pink, and you breathe in loudly, closing your eyes in the process. The countryside’s air beats the city’s one hands down.

You drag your suitcase behind your back, instantly regretting putting so much stuff in there when you’re going to stay for only a week but, in your defense, it is something you have picked up in the big city. Always be prepared for every occasion, they taught you and, some habits, honestly, are hard to vanquish.

A taxi is not something hard to find outside the train station and you feel an exhilarating excitement when you realize you won’t have to launch yourself inside a cab and you also won’t have to argue with somebody else to take their seat or keep yours and, honestly, it’s a mother-fucking-dream.

The little city tour on the cab is a classic when you come back and it’s not like you don’t have people that would come to pick you up if you asked.

But on a cab, you can ask a stranger to take the longer route and they wouldn’t care too much about it, especially when they can get more money out of it. It is stupid, there is no doubt about it, but you miss the neighborhoods you used to walk by every day, you miss your favorite shops and even the outline of your High School in the middle of the city.

The street that leads to your house is quiet and it’s a stark contrast with the crowd and loudness you are used to experiencing in front of your apartment building down to the big city and, even that desolation is something you have utterly missed. Some well deserved peace, at last.

The driver leaves you a few houses down your own, complying with your request, and you stretch your arms widely, a smile plastered on your lips.

Despite the heavy bag behind your back, you walk serenely on the sidewalk, enjoying the warm air that caresses your face and relish in the familiar sight of the houses you have known for all your life.

You have walked these steps thousands of times, hell, you have run on this street hundreds of times to sneak out of your room at night or even to sneak back in before you were caught.

So many good memories. Yes, all of them. You have found out later in life that even those embarrassing moments, even the ones you wanted to forget with all your might when you were younger they have all turned into memories you cherish deeply within your heart because, whether they were bad or really good, they still shaped you in who you are today and they all belong to a time of your life that was far more simple than your adult one.

You are almost out of breath when you reach your front yard, your suitcase lying at your side in all its heaviness and you take a moment to breathe back in and look around and familiarize back with the houses you have frequented a ton of times as a kid.

Your gaze crosses the street and a smile stretches on your lips as it stills on the house of your best friend since middle school.

Oh, what a short-lived smile yours is when you finally register the change at the other side of the road.

Right across from your eyes there is a house but it is not the one you have known your whole life, oh no. This building is new and that would be almost interesting if it weren’t for the neon logo shining above its white walls.

Finals were close, almost too close actually, and you were cramming like crazy, sprawled on the floor of your bedroom with the hope that the discomfort your body was in would keep you awake and focused enough for you to keep on studying.

Your best friend, Taehyung, was lying much more comfortably on your bed, loudly playing video-games on his phone.

“You should study too, you know?” You reprimanded, cringing at the way you sounded just like your mother, and he whined like a little kid would have, slightly pouting in your general direction.

“I don’t wanna.”

“Well, you gotta! What if we fail all of our exams and we don’t get to graduate? And what if we do graduate but not a single University wants us? And what if we can’t get a decent job or even a job to being with?”

You felt your lungs constrict at all the bad scenarios playing in your head like a bad omen.

“God, you’re stressing me out,” he groaned out, not even bothering to look at you, eyes still pretty glued over his phone screen.

“That’s because you should? Like everyone else? How are you so freaking calm?!”

You closed your book a little bit to forcefully and literally flung yourself on your bed, right next to him to take a peek at the game he was playing.

“Well, I have a backup plan, that’s why.”

“What backup plan?”

You could swear to God it was your first time hearing the existence of a backup plan and it almost made you feel stupid for not having one as well.

“If nothing works out I’ll probably just mop floors at Starbucks for a couple of years, just enough for me to have some money and open up my own shop.”

“Your own shop?” Oh, how that stung your heart. Not because it was a dream of yours but because you hadn’t known he wanted one for himself? You genuinely thought you knew everything about Kim Taehyung. Well, maybe because he knew everything about you.

“Yeah, if nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He put the phone down and raised his eyebrows at you, fighting hard not to laugh in your face.

“Oh my fucking God!” You threw your cushion on his nose, making him yelp in surprise before starting laughing at you and your rage while simultaneously trying to defend himself and pin you down on the mattress.

“Jokes on me for trying to have a serious conversation with bloody Kim Taehyung!”

You hissed, trapped under his far stronger hands but, truthfully, that was just the beginning of an endless afternoon spent doing anything but study.

Fighting with cushions and call each other silly names was the outcome of one of your last days together as seniors in High School and for a very long time, you considered that day to be one of the happiest of your life as a teenager.

Your mouth is agape and you realize how silly you must look standing there, looking like you just saw a ghost or something far more horrifying, but you find yourself incapable of moving a single muscle while still in the process of realizing what you are looking at.

A green zucchini intermittently flashes before you, topped by a blue fixed writing that reads ‘Dick on the Go’ in a fancy calligraphy font.

All the stillness of your body washes out in an instant, subdued by utter rage.

“Fucking Kim Taehyung!” you shriek out loud, stomping your feet on the ground like a goddamn kid, and you find yourself crossing the street in an instant, your luggage is already forgotten. It is a mistake you would never make in the big city where thieves lurk in the dark every second of the day, waiting for a little distraction to steal anything they can from you, even your undergarments if they can reach far enough.

Oh, the beauty of a chill countryside, you’d think when finding your belongings still there later that day but, in the current moment, all thoughts that don’t contemplate murdering your best friend are inconsequential.

You stomp on the concrete floor with the grace of a bull in a china shop and only come to a halt when you are facing the closed door of the shop.

Of course, working hours have come to an end with the end of the day and you are about to give up and move on to plan B — which would include screaming your lungs out to him over the phone while you walk to reach his house and wrap your hands around his neck — when you notice a cardboard sheet hanging from the door.

It looks utterly obnoxious and made by a five-year-old with a passion for pink, purple and Barbies but the little penises designed around it turn it utterly disturbing.

‘Ring to the back entrance’ it reads and oh, you motherfucking will.

You walk around the house, your vision turned red by fury and anyone close enough to see the look on your face would realize you are out for blood.

You stop in front of a small door tinted in a bright fuchsia color and you impatiently ring the bell, feet stomping on the ground as you struggle to keep your rage at bay until the catalyst of it all shows up at the door.

He does, in fact, show up but all words are trapped in your throat the moment you realize he is dressed in nothing but a white bathrobe.

“Oh! ______, I didn’t know you were coming!” He says, smiling one of his dazzling smiles that would usually fool you but that now makes you even more baffled because he doesn’t seem at all fazed by his lack of proper clothing.

“What the hell is going on here? I thought you were still working at Starbucks?” You finally ask, though far more quietly than you first intended it to be.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you about this,” he gestures to the building with a glint of pride in both his mannerism and his voice, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, you most definitely succeeded,” you mutter to yourself as he ushers you inside the shop.

You are suddenly made aware of the loud music playing inside of it and as you follow him behind a curtain you realize the shop isn’t just a shop. It’s a bloody nightclub.

The floors are black and the lights are a pretty shade of pink, lighting up a stage where models stand in their flimsy underwear and you feel like gagging on your own breath because you weren’t ready at all for the spectacle before your very eyes.

“I’m very sorry I have to leave you like this but I have a show to host tonight!”

Taehyung half-shouts in your ears and you are about to retort something or, rather, you’re about to ask him a gazillions questions but he disappears before you can even stop him and oh-my-God-what-in-the-world-is-he-doing? Is your next thought as you watch him take off his robe to stand on the stage in nothing but a flimsy thong that conceals pretty much nothing at all and yes, Taehyung is handsome, he has always been, but he’s like a brother to you and now you want to pull your motherfucking eyes out of their sockets and forget you have ever seen any of this.

His voice booms through the small club, amplified by the microphone, and the small crowd cheers loudly for him.

You only then realize that many of these people, both men and women, you actually know and, Lord, why can’t the ground just swallow you whole right now so that you can pretend in the morning that this was all just a really weird dream?

The music gets louder in your ears and you start to fear it may turn you deaf at this rate but you have no time to indulge in the thought before Taehyung starts introducing the ‘items’, as he so lovely introduced them, exhibited on the stage.

What you thought to be a club turns out to be a place where he shows off the most recent acquires of his shop and, despite the line of work, you do have to admit that it is rather genius, especially when the product is hanging nicely on the body of hot models, not even you can resist from goggling at.

A pretty girl with skin white as ivory and hair dark as coal is elegantly walking on the stage in a black laced bust that has everything covered but what it’s supposed to cover. Her breasts look nice, granted, framed in lace and nips covered by two little dots of black but it makes you feel wildly conscious of the way your body would look in that tiny little thing and it’s a thought you’d rather avoid dwelling on to.

The next model is a tall man, all muscles and tan skin, and you try with all your might to look away from him but you find it impossible to do when he’s dressed in nothing but a few strings of leather, shaped to look like a harness, and his member is barely concealed by his own hand. He looks like a Greek statue and you find yourself almost drooling over the nice shape of his ass but that’s before your eyes land on his balls, so out in the open it makes your cheeks feel as warm as a thousand suns.

You watch almost the entirety of the show, unable to look away from any of it but you do draw the line once he presents the newest sex toy of the month: “the magic tongue.”

With dread you watch the spectators come closer to the stage to watch the little item with wild curiosity and a shiver runs down your spine not because sex toys are something you have never seen, or tried, but because you have no idea how you will be able to look any of these people in the eyes after tonight without thinking back to this very moment.

Taehyung’s voice, the booming music and the faint chit-chat of people all mix together in a cacophony of sounds you are more than happy to tune out while focusing your eyes on the walls behind your back, finally noticing how big this place must be to not only be a shop in the front, but also some sort of club in the back.

A hand comes in touch with your shoulder and you jump on the spot, turning around with your fists turned up high because that’s another amazing lesson the city has taught you but, obviously, it is not a threat but just a very confused Taehyung that is facing you.

“Woah, calm down, what is it with the fists?”

“Sorry, it’s a habit,” you reply, blood rushing to your face and turning it feverish to the touch.

He decides not to comment on your words but he can’t hide the flick of concern inside his eyes and your heart warms up for it but, of course, it is not even remotely enough to quench your anger.

“We should probably go somewhere quieter so we can talk,” he says, instead, and you nod your head in agreement while trying to ignore the sounds of excitement coming from what you suppose you could call dance floor.

“Ok, wait for me in front of the shop’s door, I’ll be there in a second.”

“I swear to God Taehyung if you turn right n-” your words get stuck in your throat as he does precisely what you asked him not to do and your eyes inevitably gaze down to the exposed curve of his ass and, awfully, to his sack.

Your hands fly to your face to cover your eyes while you groan out loud, wishing you could pour acid in those eyeballs and remove the memory from your consciousness.

“Ah, so dramatic,” he says, chuckling, “It’s just an ass, plus, you know I have a fine one.”

You peek through your open fingers just in time to watch him loudly smack his own bottom cheeks and you struggle not to gag at the image forever printed inside your brain.

“I hope you realize you just scarred me for life!”

He laughs loudly at your words but does not stop walking down the corridor that has led you to the club but, this time, he’s following the opposite direction and you wonder why he just didn’t let you tag along up to the shop.

Either way, you do not question it too much and when you hear a woman shriek loudly in excitement inside the club you take it as your cue and leave the place with fast steps.

The air feels nice again on your hot skin and you take a few moments to breathe in loudly in the vain attempt to process all that has happened in the span of less than thirty minutes since your return.

Your steps feel heavy as you walk back to the front door, the number of questions swirling in your mind increasing with each passing second.

The door flies open the moment you arrive in front of it and it’s with utter relief that you notice your best friend is now dressed in a simple black tracksuit like any other normal person out there.

He welcomes you with one of his infamous rectangular smiles and you inevitably feel your heart soften for it, your anger dissipating slowly the more you look at it. It’s like looking at the sun after being stuck in the rain for months and you kind of hate him for it. Kim Taehyung is a bloody ray of sunshine and he has always had this power over you and your emotions and, rumors say nobody can really stay mad at him for a very long time. And you most definitely fit in the rumor.

You follow him inside the shop and it takes a lot of self-preservation to not glance around the many items on the shelves, right at the corners of your eyes.

It is not like you have never seen a sex toy, or try to use one for that matter, but there is something about being in a sexy shop with your best friend that unsettles you. You had never thought you’d grow up to be a prude, honestly, but evidently, you had been wrong because everything about this situation makes you uncomfortable to a whole new level.

“No more moping the floors, uh?” You say to break off the silence and he chuckles, gesturing at his shop with so much pride you almost feel compelled to compliment him on it.

“I told you I had a backup plan, didn’t I?” He asks and there is mirth in both his eyes and the curve of his lips and you feel the anger seep back in through your bones.

“Yeah, when we were two stupid kids about to graduate.”

Your voice tone comes out harsher than you intend it to be and it successfully wipes away the smile from Taehyung’s features and you feel a pang of guilt within your heart over it.

Kim Taehyung has always been the type to do whatever he wants despite what people think but he has also always been the type that can be easily hurt but people’s words and their expectations of him. It must be like a knife cutting through his skin for you to turn into just another person that does not understand him nor support him.

“Well, yeah, we were kids and probably very stupid but this idea, this... project is probably one of the best things I ever thought of,” his eyes narrow on you as you shake your head, finally taking a glance over the shop.

It is big and full of all the things you would want from a sexy shop. The floor and walls are painted black but the shelves are a nice neon pink that makes the toys pop out even more and you would never admit it out loud but it does look quite good.

“A sexy shop, Taehyung.” You say, your voice still cutting through his skin and you sadly watch him trouble his bottom lip whilst looking for the right words.

“So what? It’s still a business... a quite good one if I dare say so myself.”

“Oh, you mean with all the horny women in the back drooling over your models or, worse, your naked ass?”

There is something about your words that seems to flare him up, strike a hot spot and start the flames of a raging fire within his heart.

“Seriously, ______, when was the last time you didn’t have a stick up your ass?”

Your mouth opens to retort something witty and intelligent but the words seem to be stuck in your throat for a bit too long and you have to close it again, letting silence fall between you two.

“Why in front of my house, though? Like, it’s not even in the center of the city or around other shops?”

“Ah, I see, that’s what’s bothering you?” He tilts his head to the side and scoffs, incredulity written all over his face.

“Well, I have been moping floors for years now and yes, I did save up a nice amount of money but not enough for me to be picky so I’m sorry if my little shop here offends your...” he fixes his gaze over the tenseness of your body and the way you tap nervously on the floor, looking for the right word to describe you, “Prudery.”

“I’m not a prude Taehyung, it’s just weird to me, ok? I never thought you meant to actually open a sexy shop, especially not with that obnoxious name and you can’t get offended by that because it’s exactly how you defined it yourself back then,” you point a finger up to his chest and a small smile appears back on his features, “And I didn’t expect it to be right in front of the house I grew up in, we grew up in and I most definitely did not expect to see your balls out and about tonight, thank you very much for the horrific memory, by the way.”

By the time you end your speech, he is laughing and you can’t help but laugh with him too because it all still feels so surreal you could wake up any time now and realize it was all just a weird-ass dream.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he concedes but he smirks slightly and it makes you shiver because you know oh-too-well that glint in his eyes and you don’t like it in the least.

“When was the last time you had a good fuck, though?”

“Excuse me?” You try to ignore the way your cheeks seem to catch on fire as blood rushes all to your head because oh, that struck a nerve.

“You look so tense and on edge...” He continues, tilting his head to the side as to study you further, “In my experience, that’s a giving sign of sexual frustration.”

“Oh my fucking God I’m going to murder your sorry ass,” you growl and launch yourself at him just like you used to when you were both kids that relished in pissing off each other.

“Oh come on, ______, I’ve known you since you were like, five, you don’t need to be embarrassed!”

He is laughing as you try to strangle him, very unimpressed by your physical strength.

There had been a time when you had been stronger than him but those days are long over now that he is a grown man that also happened to discover the existence of a gym.

“Seriously, though, you should really loosen up a bit, you’re like in constant rage mode.”

You growl at him, almost wishing your nails were long and pointy like the ones you see every girl in the city sporting and a part of you now understands why. Oh, you’d definitely put them to good use right now.

“Ok, fine, fine! I won’t mention your sexual life or lack thereof anymore, I promise.”

You side-eye him but still let go of his shirt and he exhales loudly, taking a curious look around the room.

“But,” he starts and you scoff at him, ready to assault him anew if he decides to push your boundaries again, “I gifted something to all my friends so I don’t see why you should make an exception.”

There it is again, the little sting. His friends, the ones that knew about this, the ones that probably helped him and cheered him up. The ones that were there when he finally opened the shop and the ones that were there to congratulate him.

It makes you think a lot whether it was really because he wanted to surprise you or because he knew you’d react like this once you found out.

“You can pick anything you want from the shelves, it’s all on me.”

“What? You want me to pick a sex toy?” You ask, bewildered as he motions through the shelves, encouraging you to take a look.

“Well, that’s what I sell so I don’t see why not.”

You scoff and shake your head and this time it is not because of your so-called prudery but because you know for a fact those things have no effect on you.

“What?” He asks and you don’t like the hint of mockery you can hear in his voice, “Don’t tell me... you never used one before?”

“Oh my God, you are impossible!”

He laughs at you, pointing his finger now that he is wrongly and completely sure you have never seen, touched or used any of the things he sells.

“I have tried them if you really must know, but they are not that special.” You regret this confession the moment his features shift, turning from mirth to disbelief as the depth behind them gets clearer in his head.

“Wait, you mean you never... you know?”

His mouth is agape and it makes you want to punch him in the face because one, he looks like a poor meme of a fish and two because you can feel the moment he’ll start to ridicule you coming closer.

“What? I have never what?” You hiss, your face feeling as hot as the bloody sun due to the embarrassment.

“You never had an orgasm with any toy?” He inquires further, looking at you as if you are some rare creature he has never seen before and deeply wants to study now that he has discovered it.

All you want to do is disappear and forget this whole talk that just happened and you sure as hell do not want to answer his question but, somehow, your mouth opens and the words come out in a strangled whisper before you can usher them back in.

“I’m not even sure I ever had an orgasm at all...”

“Wait, are you serious right now or are you just shitting me?” He looks almost comical in his flabbergasted state and, honestly, if it wasn’t your sexual life being judged you would probably laugh at him but mirth is not something you manage to feel when your eyes are watering with frustration and shame.

“Taehyung!” You whine, your eyes fixing on your shoes because you seriously can’t look him in the eyes now, if ever again.

“Oh my God you are serious, wow, that is so sad.” You can feel your heart falling in your chest at his words and you don’t even know why you care about his opinion on this particular matter but the pity in his voice awakens something within you, something you ignored for a very long time.

“What lousy fuckers have you met in the city, seriously.” He presses forward and you can hear a hint of laughter in his voice or maybe it truly is just your imagination but it is enough to drive you away from the scenery and probably never return again.

“Ok, this is where I draw the line, I’m leaving, good-fucking-bye.”

You turn on your heels, aiming for the door but you are kept in place by his firm hand around your wrist.

“Wait, wait, wait,” His voice sounds softer to your ears and you let that timbre fool you enough for you to turn around, ready to listen to his next words.

You turn in time to see him grab a toy from one of the top shelves right next to you and your blood starts to boil in your veins. You are one second away from being outraged and railed up enough to attempt murdering him again.

“Before you go, take this, I swear to God you will thank me in the morning.”

With a devilish smile, he puts a pink vibrator in your hands and you can’t help yourself but look at it and notice the shape of two rabbit ears at the end of the long shaft. It doesn’t look like anything you have ever used and it also looks mildly terrifying because you have no idea how to use the damn thing.

“Taehyung...” You hiss, glaring at him in a way you hope is going to be enough for him to drop the subject but you obtain quite the contrary effect.

He hits his forehead with the palm of his hand and turns around to grab a bottle you are far too familiar with. Lube.

“I almost forgot, you’ll probably need this as well.”

You hate the feigned innocence in his expression and oh, how badly you want to punch it off of him.

“Taehyung, I swear if you don’t cut the shit I’ll make you swallow the damn thing.”

“Hot.” He muses, chuckling.

“Taehyung!”

“Can you please indulge me for just one time?” His eyes turn a bit more serious and you unconsciously start to trouble your bottom lip, hating yourself because you are still considering his offer despite the terrible experiences you have had before.

“If you seriously hate it you can come here tomorrow morning and throw the bloody thing in my face and I won’t stop you. Deal?”

You don’t know if it’s the prospect of hitting him with a vibrator that convinces you or maybe that innate desire of always being on the winning side but before you can realize in what kind of situation you are throwing yourself in, you open your mouth and successfully put a gravestone on your tomb.

“Deal.”

The moon shines brightly in the sky as you leave Taehyung’s shop, walking as fast as your feet allow you to so that nobody will be able to spot the shop’s logo on the plastic bag you’re clutching to your chest like your life depends on it.

It is only when you arrive in front of your yard that you realize your luggage has been abandoned there for quite a long time and it’s with subsequent relief that you notice not a single thing appears to be missing nor out of place.

You sigh heavily and decidedly open up your suitcase to shove inside the vibrator your best friend has just gifted you because yes, you are an adult and your parents are not oblivious to your active sexual life — despite it being very flat and very close to non-existent — but you really do not wish to let them know any details of that portion of your life if you can help it.

You put a smile on your face and gingerly walk to your door, trying to gain back the feeling of easiness and happiness that usually comes with your arrival back home.

The doorbell rings through the house and its sound alone throws you back in time when you were a kid dying to hear that sound because it meant your friends — well, Taehyung, at least — had come to play and you could escape the confinements of your room and boredom to play with them.

Your mother opens the door and a smile stretches immediately on her features, so similar to your own you can’t help but mirror it and then throw your arms against her frame, hugging her close to your chest because you have missed her, her perfume, her meals and everything you wanted to get away from when you were younger and ready to take over the world.

Despite the ups and downs of your arrival, the evening passes quickly in the company of your lovely parents and it feels nice to talk about everyday stuff without filters and it also feels nice to just sit in silence in front of the tv, relishing in each others’ presence and warmth.

Your room looks just like you have left it when you went away for college and even after so many years you can’t find the will to change it yourself. You grew up, of course, many of the clothes in the wardrobe do not even fit you anymore and you certainly have changed your tastes in music over time. Overall, it almost looks like the bedroom of someone foreign but, you like it just the way it is because every detail inside of it is so personal and it was so carefully chosen back then that your heart warms with memories every time your eyes land on something you didn’t remember being there.

Your bedroom in the city looks nice, just like a picture out of a magazine but it doesn’t have personality nor something that screams your name to whoever may walk in it and that’s why you will never change this room right here, even when it clearly belongs to a seventeen-year-old senior girl about to graduate and leave for college.

You close the door behind your back and hop onto the bed, relishing in how soft it feels under your tired body and most importantly how freshly cleaned it smells like. You know your mother still cleans your room as if you live with them and it makes you feel guilty at times, especially when you are away, but when you are back it’s like a bloody dream. Everything is tidy and smells wonderful and even that is something very different from what you are used to in the city.

Your mother would probably scold you to no end if she could see the state you left your apartment in. But sometimes, when the workday gets too long and you are too tired, honestly, being tidy is not your number one priority and it clearly shows when you muster the courage to clean everything and return your place to a decent one.

You huff and sprawl on the bed, legs and arms wide on its surface as you stare at the ceiling, a pout on your mouth.

Ever since you walked through the door of your childhood house all you can think about is the secret held inside your suitcase and what you are going to do with it.

You rest on your side and lock your gaze on your luggage, rummaging through the many things that could go wrong if you happen to decide to try out the so-called gift Taehyung has given you.

You could lie, you think. You could tell him it didn’t work for you in the morning and just leave it at that.

It would be a good solution but there is this part of you that is curious and there’s also this tiny part of you that wants it to work. You have tried stuff, you have been with a decent amount of men and at some point in your life you decided to give it up because clearly, pleasure wasn’t something you could achieve sexually.

But what if it doesn’t have to be like this?

You bite your bottom lip, still unsure on what to do and after long minutes you get off your bed in frustration and almost rip open the luggage to get to the object of your desire.

Your heart is hammering in your chest even though you know your parents are sound asleep but still, the idea of them catching you trying to pleasure yourself in your childhood bedroom scares you to no end. And you would never admit it aloud, but it excites you too in some twisted way.

You dim the lights in your room to create some sort of atmosphere whilst feeling extremely stupid the whole time. You are incredibly awkward and if Taehyung could see you right now he’d probably laugh his ass off.

“This is so stupid,” you mutter to yourself as you get under the covers, trying to relax and stop thinking about what you want or not want to happen.

You wet your lips and take a deep breath and, lord, it almost feels like losing your virginity all over again because the knot inside your stomach is as tight as it was back then.

“It’s just a fucking sex toy, it’s not rocket science.” You hiss to yourself as you uncap the bottle of lube, quickly spreading it on the rabbit-looking toy within your hands.

You gulp down and turn it on, always the control freak that needs to know exactly what is going to happen and how it is going to happen all the bloody time.

You marvel at the little rabbit ears, vibrating alongside with the shaft and you finally realize their purpose and boy, is that excitement that you feel building between your legs?

You have felt desire before, you have felt need but it never culminated into an orgasm or even a hint of pleasure before and you don’t know if it’s because Taehyung was so shocked by your confession or what but, for the first time in a very long time, you want that to change. Tonight.

You quickly get out of your pajama pants and proceed to remove your underwear which, with mild surprise, you notice to be wet with your arousal.

You stroke your sex a few times to make the lube’s job easier and, breathing in, you start working the vibrator in.

The shaft is still as you carefully move it past your folds and you are almost surprised by how your walls stretch around it without much resistance and it makes you wonder: did really the prospect of changing things aroused you this much?

You shake your head, pushing all thoughts out of it to focus only on your pleasure and what feels good at this moment.

The vibrator is well sheathed inside of you when you finally decide to turn it on, the rabbit ears slightly pressed over your mound.

The vibrations take you by surprise because they come in not-synchronized waves so that your presumably pleasure spots are continuously stimulated and you have no time to concentrate too much on either of them.

You rest your body against the mattress and close your eyes, relaxing the muscles of your neck as you give in to the idea of finally unlocking something within you.

Your fingers blindly play with the settings of the toy and you let your body decide what feels best for it, for once letting everything but your mind do the work.

The slight curve of the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive spot within you and you find yourself sighing at the sensation. Your eyes open as you realize the sound that just came out of your mouth and your heart starts hammering in your chest.

You push the vibrator further within you, searching with its head that delightful spot again so you can experience that sensation again and give it a name and oh, when you do, a closed window seems to open within you, finally letting the sun in where once there was only darkness.

The rabbit-like ears vibrate and turn around your mound and even that sensation is suddenly a pleasurable one and not something that leaves you completely indifferent.

Your eyes close as you twist around the settings a little more, making the vibrations stronger and quicker and Lord, how good that feels.

Is this why people are so fixated with sex? Is this what other people had been experiencing all along? Because it is utter bliss and oh, you so do not want it to stop.

You find yourself emitting sounds you had no idea you could produce and you tilt your head to the side to bite down on your cushion and stifle them enough for your parents to remain asleep.

You can feel the pleasure building within you in foreign waves that you have no idea how to control or to handle and, for the first time in your life, you don’t even want to. It feels good to give in, to let something do its work and take control over you and, as you completely give in into this moment, that’s when the orgasm surprisingly arrives, tinting everything white and turning your body into a quivering mess.

You can feel your juices dripping down between your legs but you can’t find in yourself the will to care about it, your mind still hazed by the intense release you have been waiting for years.

You don’t remember after how long you finally get up, clean yourself and hide the toy inside your purse but in the morning, you can clearly recall all the events that led to your very first orgasm and most importantly, how amazing you felt right after.

The sun shines brightly high up in the sky as you briskly cross the street to knock on your best friend’s shop door, his little gift secretly tugged inside your purse, away from prying eyes.

You stop in front of the door, troubling your bottom lip as you take side glances to the street in nervousness. It takes you a few seconds and a lot of controlled breaths for you to push the door open and enter inside the obnoxious shop again.

It is with utter relief that you notice not a single client is there at this early hour and you quickly walk to Taehyung, sitting on the counter with the most heinous smirk you have had the misfortune to witness.

“Oh, look who has returned,” he says, assessing you with his attentive gaze and as his lips curve deeper you know he has already realized he has won the first round in this battle.

“Wipe off that awful smirk off of your face,” you hiss, putting the wrapped up toy on the counter with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I will if you admit I won.”

Oh, if you could erase that smug expression out of his face you would definitely do it. If there is something that everyone around you knows is that you’re a very sour loser and you hate being wrong. Of course, Taehyung knows this very well too and he never drops the chance to rub his win to your face whenever he can.

“It wasn’t a competition.” You hiss, your face feeling feverish hot with the blood that has rushed there from both the rage and the shame.

He cocks his eyebrow at you, tilting his head to the side with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Oh, but it would have been if you had won, or am I mistaken?” He calmly speaks those words but you can sense the mirth laced in them.

“Shut up and tell me how you did it.”

“How I did what?” This time there is no hilarity hidden in his words but true bewilderment.

“You know... made me...?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and the words you speak feel as tight in your throat as rocks would have.

You watch his eyebrows shoot up in realization and his mouth falling agape as he finally picks up all the pieces of the puzzle and puts them together.

“Wait, you really weren’t shitting me last night? You mean... I gave you your first orgasm?!”

You know there isn’t a single living soul inside the shop right about now but you still hiss at him, looking around just to make sure it is a secret known only by him and not the rest of the city.

Your heart hammers in your chest and your head sinks between your shoulders. You have no idea why it feels so shameful to admit that aloud but it does and you find yourself unable to hold his gaze now that the secret is out.

“Oh Lord, poor thing.”

You hate the pity in his voice and the way your body reacts to it: shrinking in itself a little bit more as if it was trying to disappear into itself and never be seen again.

Your eyes shoot up and your knuckles turn white around the counter as you try to gain back that menacing look you had on just yesterday when you first discovered this place.

“Taehyung for the love of God can you stop making fun on my sexual life?”

Your best friend sighs, nodding his head a little as he finally takes into account your feelings, hopefully moving aside the fact that, indeed, it was thanks to him that you finally discovered what pleasure feels like.

“I’m sorry it’s just that... how? I mean, I get lousy sex partners but not even your nice fingers could do the job?”

Oh, you were wrong. You thought he was going to drop the bloody subject and just make you pry to his secrets but no, more awkward questions are leaving his mouth and you honestly have not a single answer to give.

“I don’t know how! If I had known we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?”

“True.”

Silence falls between you two and you start troubling your bottom lip until you can feel the awful taste of copper in your mouth and that seems to be the catalyst to your will to pose the question anew.

“So, how did you do it?”

Taehyung smiles as he unwraps the toy from the pink bag, looking at it as if it were a piece of art and you almost gag on air at the sight of him, so entranced by a bloody vibrator.

“Well, this little toy right here is one of the ladies’ favorite so, there’s that,” He says before putting it back down with a slight pout on his mouth, “But I can’t give you the answers you need, _____.”

Your brows knit and he shakes his head before sighing, finally looking somewhat serious.

“Pleasure comes in different ways for everyone. What feels good to you may feel awful or like nothing to me and vice versa. There is no rule or equation to solve in a matter like this.”

A few seconds pass as you ponder his words and you watch with dread a little smirk forming on his lips.

“But...”

“But?”

“I bet I can make you come again, multiple times.”

Your saliva seems to get stuck in your throat in a vain attempt to suffocate you and honestly, if survival instinct and all that shit didn’t exist, you’d gladly let it because this is not how you wanted this whole conversation to be like.

“Multiple times?” You snicker at him, your eyes glossy with the aftermath of your almost-suffocation.

“Yes.”

“Oh, please, Taehyung, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you promptly reply, trying to hide the way your body has tensed after his words because, lord, what would you do to know how that feels like when a single orgasm has turned your whole world upside down.

“Want to bet?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. The little fucker knows all your weak points and oh, do you love to win bets but, this time there is something stopping you from quickly accepting the challenge.

“No?! What’s in it for me... no wait, what do you want?” Your eyes narrow at him and he chuckles slightly, suddenly assuming his most fake innocent look ever.

“Well, if you win, I will move my shop somewhere far from your childhood home so you don’t have to look at my hideous logo ever again.” A devilish smirk twists his features and a shiver runs down your spine as he opens his mouth again, his voice incredibly low and laced with something you can only address as desire, “But if I win I get to fuck you every night until you leave for the city again.”

“What?!” To say that you are shocked would be an understatement. Of all the things he could have asked for he asks for... sex? With you?

“These are my terms.” He simply states and you hate how calm he looks when your heart is beating like a fucking drum inside your chest.

“Deal.” You hiss because truly, you would do anything now to break his confidence and bend his ego.

“Really?” You relish in the surprised look on his face and you smirk because you may go down but oh, you will go down fighting.

“Yeah, there is no way you’re going to win this and I can’t wait to kick your sorry ass away from my neighbor.”

“OK, then. Meet me here tonight at nine. I’m going to give you the most toe-curling orgasm you will ever experience.”

You leave the shop with rage written all over your face but you can’t hide to yourself the way excitement has coiled in your insides in utter anticipation and you hate him for it because you don’t want to lose the bet but, at the same time, everything makes you wonder if it would really be a loss in the first place.

You stand in front of the mirror feeling like the stupidest human being to ever walk the Earth because one, you have accepted a bet with your best friend that includes sex in it and two, because you are actually dressing up for it.

The black and dangerously slow dress fits your body to perfection: it is tight around your waist and wide on your hips, successfully helping in creating that perfect hourglass figure you always desired to possess; it nicely hugs your breasts, turning them into something inviting even to your own eyes and it leaves your collarbone and neck completely free and naked which is something you have learned boys love to see.

Boys. Not Taehyung. Not your best friend.

You stare at your red lips, matched with the cherries printed on your dress and you move to smear it away from your mouth and forget you ever put it there.

It feels stupid to dress up for him when you had never had any desire to be with him in the first place and it feels even more stupid because this is not a date, this is a silly little game you still have to decide whether you want to win or lose.

“What are you even doing...” You whisper to yourself, shaking your head. It had been a provocative bet for him but, had he stopped to ponder what it was going to imply in the future?

You are going to have sex with your best friend and you already know, acting like it never happened won’t be possible regardless of the final outcome.

If you win the bet it means you spent another night with a man incapable of giving you pleasure and if you lose, you will have to fuck said man for an entire week and then leave for the city as if nothing ever occurred between the two of you.

This is fucked up, you find yourself thinking and yet, you can’t find the will in you to stop it nor to remove the obnoxious red tint from your lips because, after all, if you have to go down you’ll make sure to bring him down with you.

You already know he’s going to tease you, to provoke you until you can’t take any more and making yourself as tempting as possible seems like the only solution to get back to him. Making him want you like a woman and not like some twisted up experiment of some sort.

Fiery determination sets back into your heart, subduing the doubts and fears until you are briskly walking across the street, your eyes set on the turned off lights of the shop and on what awaits you behind that closed door.

You have to take a few small breaths before you can knock on the door and you find yourself jumping in surprise when it immediately opens to reveal Taehyung standing there with a playful smile on his lips.

The moonlight shines on his golden skin and you really don’t know if some kind of magic is at work tonight but, you swear to God he looks so inviting with his tussled ash blonde hair and deep black eyes, standing in front of you with a simple pair of black pants and a white slightly unbuttoned shirt.

“Come in,” he simply says, pushing the door ajar to make space for you and you silently accept his invite, stepping into the shop with a trembling heart.

The lights that you thought to be turned off when looking at the shop from the outside reveal themselves to be pretty dim and a nice shade of pink and you find yourself liking the nice atmosphere they create.

“You look lovely,” he says, one of his hands behind your back to guide you forward and you stumble on your words, unsure whether or not you should accept the compliment or not.

“Wow, you are tense, ok,” he chuckles and you feel your face turning hot to the touch.

“Aren’t you?” You ask in a breath, turning towards him to study his face.

He tilts his head to the side and slightly shakes his head, pouting towards you as he does when he’s deep in thought.

“I mean, maybe I’m a little nervous, yeah, but definitely not as much as you are.” He playfully smiles at you and you roll your eyes to the ceiling, huffing in response.

“What? Afraid you’re going to lose?” He teases you further, winking at you and you feel your blood boil in your veins because you’d like a nice and intelligent retort but you have none to give when you’re not sure what you’re afraid of in the first place.

“Aaand, that’s my cue, good-fucking-bye,” you hiss, turning on your heels because, honestly, running away from this evident mistake seems like the only intelligent decision you’ve made in like the past two days or so.

“Wait, ______,” Taehyung trails behind you, his fingers slightly brushing against your arms to gather your attention, “I’m sorry, I was just trying to make you relax a little bit. I won’t tease you anymore.”

You turn around to closely watch his face and when you fail to pick up any hint of deception on his features you make the decision to stay for reasons you can’t comprehend yourself.

“Can I ask you something, though?” You say, troubling your bottom lip with your teeth, another question pending on your mouth the moment he proposed this bet to you.

“Of course you can.”

“Why do you want...?” Your voice trails off as he takes a step closer to you, surprising you with his sudden proximity. It is not like you have never been close before or even closer, if you have to be completely honest, but tonight everything feels different and out of place.

“What?” He asks, his voice low and deep as he takes another step closer, “Why do I want to fuck you?” He inquires further, taking another step and successfully forcing you to take a few steps back in return until you are squeezed between his body and the counter at your back.

“Y-yeah,” you whisper as his hands come in contact with your hips to lift you up and sit you on the cold table.

“You honestly have no idea why?” He says, his voice husky as he stands between your legs, his lips only a few inches away from your neck.

“N-no?” You reply, your eyebrows furrowing as his hot breath hits your skin, making you shiver at the sensation.

“I had the silliest crush on you when we were teenagers and you were like the prettiest girl in school,” he confesses, chuckling at the memory.

“I wasn’t...” You reply, trying to look into his eyes because honestly, you were never a popular girl or one many boys wanted to date.

“You were to me,” you find a hint of shyness in his voice and it makes you smile tenderly at him because all this time, you had no idea. Taehyung had never been a boy to your eyes, he had always been just Tae, your best and, quite frankly, only friend.

“And I watched you leave and become this beautiful woman and I don’t know, I guess a little part of me still wants to know what it would feel like to be with you.”

“Tae...” you whisper, your hands trailing on his face as he comes closer to your neck and all the nice words you want to say to him, all the other questions, they get all swept away by his mouth, kissing your soft skin until it coaxes a whimper out of your lips.

Your body seems to catch fire as a whole while he kisses you, hugging you closer with his arms firmly around your hips and you find it hard to talk and to think or even breathe for you had no idea your body could react like this to your best friend’s touch.

He kisses your jawline tenderly, moving on its expanse until your mouth is right there, ready to be kissed and oh, does he kiss you. His lips are warm and soft and taste like a summer fling on the beach and it’s so madly intoxicating you find yourself pulling him closer, not willing to let go.

Why is everything about Taehyung suddenly so captivating and sensual and just... beautiful? Why does everything seem so incredibly right for your body and heart but so utterly wrong for your mind?

“Your lips are as nice as I always thought they would feel like,” he confesses, his breath hitting your wet lips and you open your eyes, realizing only then that you had closed them.

Taehyung briefly kisses you again before moving onto your neck anew with newfound fervor and you find yourself tensing at his touch, still unable to decide if you want him to stop or to keep going.

“Shh,” he whispers atop your skin, sensing the way your body has stiffened under his touch, “Just relax, peach. Let me make you feel really good.”

His mouth is like poison on your skin, rendering it feverish to the touch and you find yourself caving in, allowing him to take control and, for once in your life, it is not something panic-inducing but rather liberating.

His hands move flat against your hips and travel upwards on your sides whilst his mouth trails downwards to meet the soft expanse of your breasts.

His hands push your chest forward and your back arches for him as he kisses the supple flesh your dress doesn’t reach to cover, allowing him good access to the prize he seeks to seize.

His mouth kisses your chest like he would kiss your lips and it is passionate and wet and it makes you quiver in both pleasure and anticipation for what is out to come. You feel utterly confused because it is not the first time a man has kissed your body or pulled you closer and yet, it never felt quite like this and the more the minutes tick by, the more you feel attracted to your best friend and, honestly, the more the attraction grows the less you wish to win this bet so that you can experience all of this every day for the next week.

His fingers tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it down to further reveal your chest, enclosed in a nice black bra that is evidently of his taste since he hums in contentment.

Your dress gathers around your hips and you shiver as his fingers start to roam around your naked skin, caressing every inch they can reach while moving blindly since his eyes are closed and his mouth is open to kiss and lick your breasts.

You sigh as he unclasps your bra and his warm hands come to cup your breasts passionately, bringing them together so that he can kiss both of them equally, leaving a trail of saliva on the feverish skin.

You find yourself whimpering for him and he relishes in the sound, encouraged to keep his ministrations going.

The sensation of his warm lips around your nipple is something heavenly and it makes you close your eyes and tilt your head backward. Your back arches for him and he sucks on the hardening nip whilst humming at the way your body reacts to his very touch.

“Every inch of you tastes so sweet,” he whispers hoarsely and you whine in response because nobody has ever made you feel so desired and cherished before and God, do your insides love everything about this.

His hands move around your hips and you lift your ass up, allowing him to finally remove your dress and take a look at what is hidden underneath.

Your underwear is matched to perfection with your bra and you know you’ve made a great choice when he steps back and hisses at the sight of your sex, barely covered by the transparent black piece of clothing.

You watch his lips twist into a smirk and you know it must be because of a wet spot, clearly showing through the fabric and even though you’d gladly remove that teasing smile off of his lips there is no hiding that he has a great effect over you.

You arch your back to push your chest forward and spread your legs wider whilst biting your bottom lip to provoke him and tease him just like he so loves to do with you.

“Fuck,” he hisses, running a hand through his locks while continuously wetting his lips.

“Am I living up to your teenage dreams?” You ask, voice coy despite the way your body sensually moves before him.

“Oh no, you are fucking better,” he growls, unable to shift his gaze from your sex up to your face.

“I am?” You ask, tilting your head to the side with a little smile on your lips, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Your words seem to be exactly the permission he was looking for and you can barely finish your sentence before he is on his knees, his face perfectly aligned with your partially clothed sex.

You lift your ass again as soon as his fingers tug at your underwear and you shiver at the sensation of the cold surface of the table on your now naked cheeks.

He marvels at your sex for a few seconds, just enough to make blood rush to your face in embarrassment, and then, without a single warning, he licks your folds with one big swift movement.

“T-tae,” you whimper at the foreign sensation and he lifts his gaze, eyes glinting with warmth and trepidation.

“Did that feel good?” He asks, caressing your thighs with his hands to help you relax again and give in more to his touch.

“Yes,” you whisper and he starts planting kisses on your inner thigh to build up the excitement coiling in your stomach.

“Am I the first one to do that to you?” He inquires further and you bite down your lip, struggling between the need to lie to make yourself look more experienced in the realm of sex and the one to just be sincere.

In the end, you decide to tell the truth for, after all, your only fault is to suck at picking men willing to give pleasure to their companions instead of only seeking out their own.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he says, smiling at you with mirth in his eyes and you consider the idea of strangling him with your thighs right about now, “I want to be your first in many things,” he adds, licking his lips as he resumes his position between your legs.

“The first one to make you orgasm, the first one to taste your pussy and, maybe, the very first man able to make you come for him multiple times.”

At any other time, you would retort something witty to burst his bubble but his words do not anger you, in fact, they actually excite you further and it is truly a mystery how or why your body likes and reacts to everything he says or does.

Taehyung’s hot tongue is suddenly flat against your mound and all the thoughts in your mind are rendered inconsequential by the simple touch.

You can feel his plump lips encompassing your folds as he takes another tentative lick at your sex and you shiver at the sensation, sighing for him to encourage him in his movements.

His tongue turns suddenly relentless over your sex, bent on gathering all the juices you produce in return for its wild caresses and he hums on your mound every time you let out a sigh or a mewl, the low rumble of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

As his moves increase in boldness and pace you find yourself tugging on his hair, unable to understand whether you wish to push him away or pull him closer.

The minutes stretch as the shop fills with the lewd sounds of his tongue on your wet core and the way he sucks and pulls at the skin every now and then, just to elicit moans out of you.

“Taehyung,” you whimper as his tongue moves past your lips to lap at your inner walls, slightly shaking his head so that his nose can tease your untouched clitoris.

His hands cup your ass and he pushes you forward until you are barely balanced on the counter and completely at his disposal.

His tongue shoots upwards within you, tasting and stretching your inner walls with its ravenous movements and it doesn’t take long for your insides to start twitching, responding to his ministrations with such an ease someone would think you didn’t just experience your first orgasm the night before this very moment.

“Tae,” you whimper again and his gaze lifts up to meet your pleading one. His mouth suddenly detaches from your sex and you pout at the sudden loss of warmth and pleasure.

“Yes, peach?” There it is again, the little nickname he has decided to use on you tonight and even if you were never a fan of those, even when you prohibited every male you’ve been with of ever using one, on Taehyung’s mouth it sounds incredibly endearing.

“Would you like some dick on the go, perhaps?”

The illusion shatters with his next words and your legs close shut as you are suddenly reminded why Taehyung has always been nothing but a friend to you.

“Wow, ok, you ruined it.”

It is almost comical the way his eyes get big as saucers at your words and his mouth hangs open in a perfect impersonation of a fish.

“Come on, don’t tell me it wasn’t funny!” He says, his voice still retaining that rough and sexy tone that had made you cave in the first place.

“Do you honestly think now is the time for humor?!” You squeak, ready to get back on your feet and bloody leave.

“Why not? Sex can be fun!” he retorts, scratching his head with his eyebrows deeply furrowed.

You roll your eyes to the ceiling and click your tongue in your mouth, shaking your head in bewilderment for how can someone be both an ass with the brain of a child and a sensual man with the power of a God to bend you with.

“Ok,” he says, looking at your unimpressed expression, “No jokes, got it.”

His hands rest on your knees to push your legs open and you squeeze them even more shut, picking up the chance to tease him as much as he has been doing ever since you first came into the shop.

“Forget it, I’m not in the mood anymore.”

“Wait, are you for real?”

You watch him scramble back on his feet and you almost laugh in his face as he looks at you, utterly lost.

“What if I am?” You ask, your eyes turning into slits while you force your lips to remain in a tight line, “What would you do to make me change my mind?”

His eyes darken at your words and you think he’ll get back on his knees to resume his previous activities but, instead, he harshly kisses your mouth, his teeth latching at your bottom lip to drag it down until you hiss in both pain and pleasure.

“Open your legs,” he says and all the mirth shown before is gone in both his features and his voice and you think about resisting, about teasing him forward but his fingers wrap around your neck, slightly pressing over your carotid to cut off the oxygen income.

“Do you really want me to stop and go back home?” He asks and you find yourself opening your mouth to whimper out a miserable ‘no’.

“So, will you be a good girl and open up your legs for me now?”

“Y-yes,” you whisper as his gaze shifts from your face down at your closed-off mound.

His eyes are dark with desire and you marvel at the way he looks like a completely different Taehyung and, somehow, this side of him feels incredibly exciting.

“Yes, what?” He asks as you open up your legs for him, his gaze fixing back on your own. For a moment you stay in silence, utterly confused and then your insides twitch at the sudden illumination. It is surprising to know where his desires lay and it is even more baffling to realize they seem to mirror your very own fantasies.

“Yes, daddy.” You choke out, your eyes slightly closing as his grip around your neck fades, allowing the oxygen to kick back in your system.

“Good girl.”

His lips stretch into a smile and in an instant, the dominant look is swept away from his face and you stare at him, unable to comprehend how he manages to shift between both but even with that seraphic smile, he doesn’t allow much room for thoughts to happen for one of his hands immediately flies down between your legs, cupping your sex until you’re sighing for him, pleading for more of his touch.

His mouth is rough against your own, all teeth and tongue and you mewl as one of his fingers moves past your folds, resuming the stretching his tongue had worked on your walls.

This is not a foreign sensation. You’ve had your fingers playing down there countless of times and, sometimes, even your partners attempted it but it has never been particularly pleasurable.

Taehyung is quick to notice that, in fact, even his touch can’t spark up the sensations his tongue lightened up within you and with that knowledge, he lets go of your mouth and falls on his knees anew.

His hot breath hits your slick folds and you shiver, your eyes fixed on the way his eyes glint at the sight of your naked cunt, dripping for him.

With slowed down precision he penetrates you with another one of his fingers, curling them in sync to test the way your body would respond to his touch.

He pushes them in as far as they can reach and the pace within you is slow but pleasant nonetheless. Still, it doesn’t have that butterfly-awakening effect you are both seeking out of you and he hums, deep in thought as if he were studying some rare species of some sort.

His mouth opens and you wait for his voice to break the silence in the room but, instead, his lips press together around your clitoris, allowing him to suck around the sensitive bud.

You hiss at the sensation and fire erupts back within you, making your back arch and your head tilt back.

“Fuck,” you whimper out and you can feel him smile against your swelling flesh.

“That’s it, peach, give in to me.”

His voice is rough and guttural and it sends shivers down your spine, warmness coiling in your stomach as he presses his mouth around your mound again ready to lick, suck and tease.

His fingers pick up the pace within you, scissoring to blissfully stretch you and, united with his relentless mouth, you are quick to unfold before him.

“That-that feels so good,” you mewl, your eyes opening to fix onto his head, nicely enclosed by your thighs. It is a sight you would have never thought possible to be real and, most importantly, you would have never thought to desire keeping him there as much as you do now.

Your words work wonders on his mood and you can sense the shift before it actually happens but oh, when he picks up his pace within you and sucks hard on your clitoris leaving very little room for you to catch your breath, you are fast to crumble and succumb to pleasure.

The orgasm washes over you like an unexpected wave and your voice sounds almost foreign to your own ears as you moan out his name. It is the first time you are truly coming for a man, moving your mouth in the shape of his name.

Taehyung laps all your juices with his untiring tongue and you quiver with the feeling of being overly stimulated all over your swollen mound.

“You are already one step closer to losing our bet,” he says, voice hoarse as he tilts his head towards you and you whine at the sight of him, face flushed and chin dripping with your juices.

By now it is clear to both of you that you won’t actually win the bet and, quite honestly, you don’t even want to when it feels so good to have him working wonders between your legs.

It is, then, with the goal of losing yourself into pleasure that you speak the next words.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Your words make him chuckle and you yelp in surprise as he slaps your sensitive mound with enough force for it to sting.

“Careful with your words, peach.” He says, getting up on his feet to be at eye level with you again, “Unless you want me to teach you a lesson.”

Your insides twitch at his words and it makes you wonder how have you lived your life all this time without knowing you had that big of a dominance kink. Of course, you have watched porn before and you have preferred certain types of kink but having little to zero experience in what you actually like, everything comes as a surprise tonight. You would never admit it out loud and especially not to him but, Taehyung is the man responsible for your discovery of your utmost inner desires.

His mouth seeks your own and you can taste your own flavor lodged between his lips, hanging from his tongue, and it is utterly inebriating.

His fingers trace your sex with the most delicate touch and he smirks on your mouth, his eyes opening to look into yours.

“Look who is wet for my dick,” he says, his tongue licking your bottom lip to add fuel to the fire already raging between your legs.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, his head tilted to the side so that he can kiss your jawline and further down your neck, your most sensitive spot.

“So much, daddy,” you whimper out, hugging him closer almost as if you are afraid he is going to leave before complying to his promise, “Please.”

“Stay here,” he whispers and you look at him confused, fighting the instinct to pull him back as he untangles from your embrace and takes a few steps back.

You do exactly as he says, though, remaining perfectly still on the counter and you can only imagine how you must look right now: red lipstick smeared on your lips, your body glistening with sweat and your sex slick with both your juices and arousal.

It is an image he seems to enjoy though and the way he looks at you, licking his lips as if anticipating what he’s about to do to you, makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Taehyung takes a few steps back unable to glue his eyes off of you until he absolutely has to and you watch him move past you and disappear behind a door.

The wait makes your heart burst in your chest with expectation and, of course, anxiousness because yes, it is liberating to let someone else take the lead for once but, after all, you were always a control freak and not knowing what is going to happen will always scare the living wits out of you.

Seconds tick by feeling as long as minutes and you are about to combust in flames or leave your position to follow him when he appears again, a little devilish smile on his lips and a white toy in his hands.

You are familiar with what he has brought back from behind that door but you have never used it before, you didn’t think it would work on you, just like everything else.

Taehyung walks slowly between your legs again and he stretches his arm behind your back, seeking for a plug for the magic wand.

The toy comes to life in his hands and you shiver in anticipation as he faces you again, eyes glinting with mischief.

“I’m going to send you to heaven,” he hoarsely declares and you find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, ready to take everything he has to give.

The first touch of the toy on your clitoris sends a jolt to course through your body and your knuckles turn white as you grip hard the counter’s edge, bracing yourself for the ride he has in store for you.

Taehyung is silent as he works the wand’s head on your little mound but the sound of the toy working its magic is enough to fill the room, nicely accompanied by your sighs of ecstasy.

His free hand comes in contact with one of yours and you let go of your tight hold on the counter, following his directions until you are the one balancing the wand on your sex.

“Keep it right there, yes, just like that.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at the praise and with entranced eyes, you watch him get back on his knees.

Your breath itches in your chest as two of his fingers move past your dripping lips, resuming their work as before you came all over them.

Taehyung works slowly and with utter precision and you can feel his digits slightly pressing over your most hidden pleasurable spot and you whimper out for him, letting him know how close he is to his target.

You expect him to rub into you faster, forcing another orgasm out of you but he actually retreats with a little smirk. He is up to tease you, you realize, and you can’t find in yourself the will to protest when it still feels so darn good.

Another one of his fingers moves past your folds and you quiver at the sensation of the deep stretching, relishing in the way they nicely curl within you.

You don’t know if it’s because the magic wand is working wonders on your clitoris but now, even the movements of his fingers feel like heaven and that, is a whole another level of accomplishments Taehyung has achieved in barely two days.

You can hear the squelching sounds of your sex as he fucks into you with his fingers, now relentlessly battering your insides with the evident goal of turning your world upside down again.

His free hand comes in contact with your own atop the sex toy and with utter precision he twists the settings upwards, increasing the speed of its vibrations.

Your eyes roll on the back of your head and your body starts to spasmodically contract. His fingers ravage into you faster, hitting that desired spot he had caressed before and you come, oh Lord you come in a cacophony of sounds and screams.

You almost drop the wand as you madly quiver on the counter and it’s only because his hand is keeping the toy in place that you do not do so.

The orgasm seems endless and it keeps coming and coming until you are breathless and your body feels as heavy as a boulder.

You can barely register the absence of both the toy and his fingers at first, too lost into the haze of pleasure to notice or to care. It is only when his arms are tightly engulfing you that you notice the change and you open your eyes, looking up to his pleased face.

“That was amazing,” you confess and you hate that it will burst his ego to exorbitant levels but lying doesn’t really come simply when you’re still trembling over a nice set of orgasms.

“You realize you just lost our bet, don’t you, peach?”

His breath feels hot and ticklish on your ear and you tilt your head backward away from his face so that you can look into his eyes.

“Do you honestly think I even care now?”

He smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips, hugging you closer in what feels like a very soft aftercare moment.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t. Because you have to stick up to your end of the bargain now.”

“Taehyung,” you softly say, releasing one of your arms from his hold to caress his face, “As long as you can make me feel as good as you did now I will be coming back every day.”

He smiles a pleased smile and you can tell he wants to retort something witty or teasing or quite possibly both but he doesn’t and you are glad for it. You wouldn’t want to ruin the moment, after all.

“We are not done, though,” you say after a while and he quirks his eyebrows upwards.

“Still thirsty, peach?”

Oh, how you love how quickly he switches back to his role and you tilt your head upwards, a soft smile on your lips.

“I didn’t get to feel daddy’s dick yet,” you say as your hand trails down from his cheek to his still clothed sex.

The erection twitches in your palm and the corners of your lips lift up as you notice how hard he feels pressed against your digits.

“Mh,” he hums slowly, closing his eyes as you finally turn your attention to his neglected cock, “Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“Yes, please.”

Your response comes out in a quick breath and he licks your lips in response, kissing you right after to steal the air out of your lungs.

“I can make you feel real good, daddy,” you say, boldness laced in your words and he chuckles, releasing his hold on you to take a step back.

“Then show me what you got, peach.”

Taehyung doesn’t have to repeat his words twice before you are back on your own two feet — and admittedly you do need a few seconds to get your legs to work again — ready to undress him and make him crumble as hard as he did to you.

Your hands are quick to tug onto his shirt, forcing the button opens with one single swift movement. His mouth opens in protest as the sound of loose buttons falling on the ground reaches his ears but no words come out once it’s your lips that kiss his warm skin.

Your mouth seems to fill with the taste of honey and you can’t decide whether it is the actual taste of his body or, rather, if it is only a fruit of your own mind associating his golden skin to the sweet liquid’s flavour. Nevertheless, he tastes absolutely delicious and you cannot help but suck on the tender flesh, hard enough to bloom flowers atop his chest.

“What a nice mouth you have there, peach,” he murmurs and you smirk on his now covered-in-saliva torso.

“Oh, daddy, I haven’t shown you yet what my pretty mouth can do.”

Taehyung grunts at your evident suggestion and you fall on your knees instantly at the sound, fighting with the button of his pants, eager to finally please him.

You pause for a second recalling how seeing him half naked has almost made you gag yesterday and how now you seem to be unable to wait for him to be bare of any item of clothing. Oh what can change in a span of twenty-four hours, you think to yourself before pushing down his pants.

Taehyung stands in front of you in nothing but his underwear — a simple pair of boxer briefs that have nothing to do with the flimsy thong he flashed you with yesterday — and you open your mouth in awe at the evident bulge hardly concealed under it.

“Like what you see, peach?” He muses and you can hear the smile in his voice but find yourself incapable of looking away from his crotch.

“Very,” you hum in response before your fingers are latching onto the hem of his boxers, ready to reveal what is hidden behind them.

You have never been this eager to see a cock nor to suck it but oh, does Taehyung change everything.

When the fine cloth moves past his hips you inhale deeply, your eyes transfixed on the trail of pubic hair leading to his sex. The boxers fall to his ankles as you let them go, your mouth suddenly dry as you stare at his dick, hard and red and definitely ready to be touched.

You water your mouth a few times before tentatively touching the hot flesh, your fingers encompassing his length with the uncertainty that you feel within your heart.

You have given pleasure to a man before, eager to have some in return if you were good enough but this time, even this feels different for Taehyung has proven to be quite the experienced lover and a big part of you desires to impress him.

His breath hitches in his lungs and you finally lift your gaze to look at his face. His mouth is hanging open, his eyes boring into yours as you finally move your hand alongside his shaft, giving him what he has been desperately craving for all along.

Your mouth twists into a smile at his response and you turn your movements bolder, more confident and, you watch him tilt his head back, his eyes closing at the sensation your fingers provide.

Your thumb rubs against his head to gather his pre-cum and he hisses as you blow hot air onto its tip, teasing him enough to turn him eager.

“Fuck, be a good girl and let me feel your mouth now.”

His voice is rough and deep as he speaks those lewd words and you find yourself immediately obliging to his wishes, throwing your chance of retaliation in the form of teasing out of the window.

Your mouth opens for him and you fix your gaze up to his face again while looking as innocent and coy as you can muster.

You bat your eyelashes at him, your tongue protruding forward ready to welcome the weight of his cock on its rough surface.

Taehyung takes that as a cue to place his hand atop your head, his fingers tugging at your strands of hair to push you forward until you are breathing atop his sex, just an inch away from engulfing him all.

You are the one to take that step forward and as soon as your lips brush his length he releases his breath, his body almost relaxing now that he has been granted his utmost desire.

Your teeth graze his tender skin and you push yourself further, inch after inch until your nose is tickled by his pubic hair and he is panting in approval.

Your lips enclose his member and you inhale deeply, squeezing your cheeks until his fingers start pulling your hair in a vise that makes tears gather in your eyes.

He huffs as his abdomen contracts and you tentatively bob your head whilst releasing your grip around his twitching cock.

The sigh that escapes his mouth sounds like both relief and pleasure and you settle your pace for a pretty gentle one, designed to bring him up to his breaking point as slowly as possible.

“You’re doing so good, peach,” he encourages with voice sounding deep and rough with need and you hum around him to produce goosebumps on his skin.

Your mouth and tongue make lewd sounds as you suck him hard as if his member were an icicle during the very first days of summer and you wish to savor every last drop of the cooling treat.

You have never felt desire blooming between your legs while doing this to other men but tonight, you find yourself rubbing your thighs together every time he hums or sighs or grunts for you.

The need is like a burning fire and it forces you to rest a hand atop your sex to get some of the friction you seem desperate to feel there.

You are able to only press your digits on your clitoris a couple of times before he is made aware of what you are doing.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” He asks and you can’t tell by his tone if he’s more aroused by the act or mad that you did something without asking him first.

Your mouth opens around his cock just enough for you to hum in shame, your eyes fixing on his belly rather than on his eyes.

“What a dirty little girl have you turned into,” he muses and you find the courage to lift up your gaze. The smile that resides on his lips makes your insides twitch and your heart tremble for it promises all the right kinds of wickedness.

“Come here,” he instructs and you leave his member with a lewd pop to get up on your feet and follow him as he drags you further inside the shop.

There appears to be a small niche you hadn’t notice before, right beside the counter and he guides you through it until you are standing face to face with the most bizarre-looking toys you have ever seen.

Taehyung doesn’t address your amazed face in the slightest and silently walks you in front of a mirror, hastily pushing you down to your previous position.

You look up at him with confusion written all over your face and he caresses your left cheek delicately.

“We are going to have so much fun, now,” he says and you nod your head in anticipation, ready to follow his instructions impeccably.

“On your fours,” he says and you follow suit, pressing your hands to the tiled floor and sticking your butt out for good measure.

“Can you look behind your back, peach?” He softly speaks, light glinting in his eyes, and you follow his gaze to be met with a dildo attached to a mirror, perfectly aligned with your ass and, most importantly, your dripping core.

Taehyung moves out of your peripheral vision and you let out a shaky breath as you try to register all his movements with the help of your hearing.

He reappears in your view through the mirror, a pink bottle of lube in his hands you squeeze your legs together in anticipation, already foretasting the pleasure that is about to be sent your way.

Taehyung works as slowly as he possibly can with his fingers, coating the dildo for you at the best of his abilities and you know for a fact that he is doing it on purpose, trying to push you past your tolerance point and Lord, is he getting so damn close.

Just as you are about to snap he gets back on his own two feet, a pleased sound leaving his lips as his gaze focuses back on you.

“Now, be a good girl and fuck yourself with that dildo for daddy.”

His words make all the blood in your body coil down to your stomach, forcing your insides to twitch in excitement and you do not waste even a single second to align yourself to the object responsible for your imminent pleasure.

The dildo feels like any other phallic-looking toy you have used before and you sink onto it with rather ease, helped by the lube and your incredible arousal but the magic seems to happen the second Taehyung’s dick is well encompassed by your mouth again.

You resume your slow bobbing pace around him as if it was never interrupted in the first place but, this time, it is not your head that moves for him, it’s your entire body.

Taehyung stands at a distance that forces you to push your body forward and as you do that, you can feel the toy slipping in and out of you at the same time.

This, is foreign ground again and his little sighs spark you up anew, convincing you to leave behind your initial idea of being gentle and slow and teasing and opt for a rather quicker and rougher pace.

You can feel your own saliva trailing down your chin and pool on the ground but it seems to be only an incentive for you to go harder, relishing in the sounds of approval that leave his swollen mouth.

The faster you move around his shaft the faster the silicone toy batters your sex and you find yourself humming all around him, sending the vibrations up and down his spine, forcing him to moan out your name and tilt his head backward in utter pleasure.

You watch his abdomen contract almost painfully and the vision sparks a question to form in your head and, a few seconds after, on your lips.

Your hips come to a halt, allowing you to let go of his member just enough to voice out your thoughts.

“Would you like to come in my mouth, daddy?” You sugar-coat your words and bat your lashes for good measure and he grunts at the sight of you, so willing to do anything he’d want from you.

“Such a good dirty girl,” he hums, one of his hands releasing its grip from your hair to caress your cheek lovingly and you smile at the fond gesture before quickly engulfing his head into your lips and suck hard on the leaking red tip.

Taehyung groans at the sensation, his body shivering as pleasure spreads through it like a wave you can almost make out the outline of.

You buckle your hips into the toy to quench your own arousal and in a matter of seconds, you have him on the verge of his orgasm, panting and sighing and murmuring encouraging words.

You discard your own purchase on the ground to grasp his ass with your fingers, forcefully pushing his hips to meet your mouth while surely leaving marks on his cheeks that he’d definitely complain about later but, in the heat of the moment, every single one of your actions seems to stir up the fire further.

Your jaw is slack as he starts pounding into you, no more willing to let you decide the pace you are more comfortable in sustaining and it truly takes a lot of work to not gag around him or suffocate on your own spit.

Taehyung comes in hot bursts that take you by surprise but you’re still quick to gulp everything down, ignoring the burning sensation or the tears forming in your eyes because, truly, it is almost a struggle to breathe by now and yet, as he comes moaning out your name you find it impossible for you to care about anything else that isn’t him or his pleasure.

The taste of cum is not pleasant, it never was and it probably will never be but you find it is not quite as disgusting as it tasted before when you were performing your “duty” as a sexual partner. Pleasuring Taehyung is a pleasure in itself and you find yourself licking up your lips as you would do after a satisfying meal.

Taehyung’s hands are warm and turn soft again around your body as he easily lifts you up from the ground to welcome you into his arms.

Your head finds refuge in the crook of his neck and he kisses your temple as your breathing starts slowing down alongside with the hammering within your chest.

One of his hands moves to touch your cheek just like he has done a few moments ago but this time it is to make you look up into his eyes.

His irises as dark as the night sky are fixed upon your face but you can’t pinpoint what the light in his eyes could possibly mean. That is until his lips seek your own and you find yourself leaning into him to kiss him back.

Taehyung kisses you with the despair of a man that knows this is his last chance and with the sweetness of one that has won your heart and, Lord, does it turn your legs into jelly.

He makes you feel like that teenage girl dreaming about boyfriends and first kisses in the safety of her room, he makes you feel like that young girl who used to sneak out of her house in the night to go to a party with her best friend and dance all night until her feet hurt. He makes you feel like the girl you used to be before the city sucked you in and turned you into this sad and stiffer version of yourself. A pale reflection of what you used to be, of the things you used to dream.

When Taehyung leaves your mouth you are panting and you are quite certain your eyes must be glossy with unshed tears.

His thumb strokes your cheek and you tilt your head to the side to look at him better.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper as you start mimicking his sweet touches with your own hand.

He chuckles and shakes his head looking rather bewildered. ”Didn’t I do that already, tonight?” He asks and you smile back at him, shaking your head in return.

“I want you to truly fuck me,” you retort, voice barely above a whisper for you never thought you’d ever pronounce those words to him, of all people, “I want to feel you inside of me.”

You try to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest or the way your insides contract in embarrassment and your ears turn flaming hot under his gaze.

There is a fraction of a second where you wish you could take it back and simply walk out the front door and forget any of this ever happened but then, something shifts inside Taehyung’s eyes and you instantly know, the words you have spoken are the ones he had been waiting for all night.

His hands turn from gentle to rough again against your supple flesh and you yelp in both surprise and pain as he yanks you up on his shoulder, dragging you back where it all started.

Your bottom cheeks hit the cooling surface of the counter again and you can barely utter a single word before Taehyung’s mouth is seeking your own, teeth and tongue working to pry your lips open and claim your taste until it almost seems to become the one he is embodied with.

“Tell me how badly you want my dick,” he whispers, voice hoarse as he instantly attacks the soft skin under your ear, sucking and pinching the flesh in a fine mixture of pleasure and ache — a combo your neck seems to be sharing with your sex.

“So, so bad, daddy, please.”

Taehyung hands force your legs open so that he can stand between them and you let him, arching your back a little to push your hips forward and meet the heat of his semi-hard cock.

His fingers are rough against your skin and they love to torment your thighs and hips and even the little curve of your bottom cheeks that he has access to.

His mouth is generous on your breasts and you mewl for him, pulling him in with your fervent touch and your wanton desire.

Your fingers find purchase on his hair and you tug on them until he growls and bites your skin in retaliation, making you chuckle at his child-like temper.

Your other hand, though, sneaks right past his control and before he can even register the movement, your fingers are laced around his member.

His mouth opens in a silent moan as you trace his length with your warm finger and a wicked smirk twists your lips.

You buckle your hips forward and hook your legs around his own, trapping him right in front of your sex and barely a few inches away from being exactly where you need him to be the most.

“I don’t remember saying you could touch me,” he grunts, trying to regain the control over the situation and assess his dominating role anew.

“Are you complaining?” You ask in a whisper as you guide his cock towards your sex whilst still coaxing it into erection with the slow movements of your fingers.

His sex meets your swollen and dripping lips and they engulf it nicely, coating it with your arousal as you stroke him with both your flushed flesh and your lavish fingers.

One of his hands flies to your face and grasps both of your cheeks, squeezing them until you lift your gaze up to him.

“Don’t forget who is in charge here, peach,” his voice is low and it makes you shiver for all the right reasons and damn, you have never desired to disobey someone’s orders as much as you do now. There is this part of you that relishes in the thought of Taehyung punishing you and it’s that emerging side of you that makes your hand move faster on his sex with a taunting smile on your lips.

“Are you?” You ask, lifting your chin up against his grasp, “Then show me.”

His hand leaves your face to slap away the one around his cock with a sound smack that stings your skin and makes your insides twitch.

“After I’m done with you, you will think again before defying me,” he promises with a growl before slapping your sex, rough and strong.

You yelp in surprise, pain and excitement all mixing into one and you can do nothing to hide the way your body quivers at his touch nor the way your breath has turned quick and shallow in anticipation for what is out to come.

His hand slaps your sex again and you moan loud for him, tilting your head backward as your eyes close, your mind unable to focus on neither the pain nor the pleasure.

When your eyelids flutter open again you are quick to notice the way his cock is fully erected now, finally awoken by the sounds of your mouth and the ones of your battered sex, aching for his touch.

“Lie on your back,” he instructs and this time you follow suit, shivering as the cooling surface of the counter is flushed against your feverish skin.

“You are not allowed to come until I tell you so, do you understand?”

A sound of frustration leaves your lips at the thought of having to hold back and, a part of you wonders if you are even capable of doing so.

“Do you understand?” He repeats, his voice sounding strict and rough, almost mad, and you wet your lips before nodding your head eyes. This time, you do not want to think about what his punishment would be like for, a part of you already knows you wouldn’t be able to endure it. Especially not now that you are already so desperate for release.

Taehyung’s cock intrudes your sex without any warning and your eyes close at the sensation whilst a grunt escapes your lips. You cannot conceal the way his girth stings inside of you when it happens so quickly and all at once, allowing you very little room to adjust.

Taehyung stays still inside of you, coaxing your sex with the movement of his fingers on your clit, urging your walls to relax around him.

A sigh erupts from your parted lips and you close your eyes, willing your body to relax and let his fingers do their work on you.

“Just like that, peach, take a big deep breath for daddy,” his face conceals perfectly well how hard he is struggling to keep himself still but his voice fails to do so, reaching your ears in a gruff and strained tone.

You want to see that wall he has put on crumble and show what’s really hiding behind it, you want to see his face morph into one of pleasure and you want to be the one responsible for it.

You move your hips upwards, ignoring the sting that comes with it just to make him flinch, lose his composure and simply fuck you like he so evidently desires to.

“Careful, peach, or you won’t be able to walk once I’m done with you,” he grunts, stilling the movements of your hips with his strong hands, his eyes burning with both desire and displeasure.

“Who said I want to?” You ask in a whisper and oh, do your words shoot right through his barrier, making it crumble like a castle’s tower under the force of a cannonball.

Taehyung rolls his hips into you and you whimper for him, a fine mixture of both pain and pleasure. Up until this moment, you had no idea you had a thing for pain and being used by someone but Taehyung sparks all of this within you and, soon enough, that subtle pain is subdued by arousal, need and, furthermore, pleasure at its finest.

His pace is slow, calculated, but the way his hips push into yours is not delicate nor sweet at all. It’s raw passion and it makes you sigh and whimper for him, it makes your body quiver and contract and it’s marvelous to discover what sex can feel like, what it should feel like and, for a brief moment, you find yourself hanging on the verge of tears.

Taehyung’s charcoal eyes stare into your own and a playful smirk tugs on his lips as he notices the way your eyes shine with unshed tears and the way you can’t help but voice out your pleasure for anyone nearby to hear.

“Does it feel good, peach?” He asks, voice slightly taunting but you can’t find it in yourself to think of a witty rebuttal, not when your thoughts are all hazy and rendered inconclusive by the pressure between your legs.

“Y-yes,” you whimper out and he attaches his swollen lips to the feverish skin of your neck, sucking on the supple flesh with such force you know you are going to bare the signs of this encounter in the morning.

Taehyung seems to be able to read your body to perfection: he grants you what you need before you can even ask for it, he kisses and touches every inch of skin that could add fuel to the burning fire building within you, he says lewd words that he knows are going to arouse you even more. So, it does not come as a surprise that he can tell when you are going to come as well.

“You’re not allowed to come just yet,” he says and you whimper in frustration, your voice pleading because after craving an orgasm for so long in your life, you simply do not want to postpone that heaven-like feeling any longer.

“Please,” you plea, your eyes searching for his and he halts his movements in response, drawing a strangled grunt out of you.

“Now, now, you spent all your life waiting for this, what’s a minute longer?” He teases, his index finger tracing the expanse of your chest and you swear to God, if your pending orgasm wasn’t on the line, you’d be biting that finger off of his hand right about now.

“Taehyung,” you whimper miserably and he seeks your eyes, tilting his head to the side as he notices a tear running down your left cheek, the orgasm denial hitting you far more than he must have anticipated for he frowns and then pouts, deep in thought.

His mouth opens, his lips shaping into the words he wants to say but something in your eyes seems to suggest him otherwise and, before you know it, his dick is firmly stroking your walls anew, the pace relentless as he seeks out the pleasure you begged him for.

Your breath hitches, your back arches for him and your eyes close as you lose yourself into the feeling of being owned anew. Tonight you discover it’s a feeling quite intoxicating and one you desire with all your being to experience more and more.

“Is it coming, peach?” He asks in a grunt, your walls contracting around him affecting him more than he would ever care to admit and you sigh out a ‘yes’ before your whole body starts to quiver, the orgasm almost taking you by surprise, washing over your entire body like an electric shock.

You do not realize the moans and whimpers that fill the silence of the room are your very own until your eyes are opening again, the over-stimulation between your legs drowning out the last remains of your climax.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Taehyung whispers mostly to himself, his pupils extremely dilated with excitement and all of it makes you feel greatly empowered because he is not immune to you at all, just as much as you are evidently not immune to him.

Your thoughts are scattered by his hands, suddenly grabbing your hips, and the instant loss of his dick within your sex. Your mouth opens to voice out a question but the words die in your mouth as soon as you understand where his intentions lay.

You follow the quick and rough guide of his hands and turn around for him, pushing your chest down to meet the cold surface of the counter, partly sleek with the results of your arousal.

You arch your back a little, pushing your butt out for him to have better access to your sex and that is all it takes from your part for him to intrude your core anew, battering your sensitive spot with grand precision whilst chasing his own release.

One of his hands grabs your hair roughly, pulling upwards until your neck is tilted backward and you can almost see his face and the way it morphs with pleasure.

You bite down your lip as you drink up all the sounds he makes and the ones that come from your squelching sex, fully welcoming him with a new coat of arousal. You had no idea people could come so many times in a single night but as he pounds in and out of you, you feel the golden sensation spreading through your limbs anew, making you whimper and contract for him.

“Listen to yourself,” he huffs, his voice almost trembling with the effort to keep his pace steady, “Mewling for my cock like a slut.”

You groan in response, closing your eyes as you push your hips back to meet his own, eager to make him come as vigorously as you did.

“Yes, like that peach, fuck my cock until I fill you whole... would you like that, uh? To feel my hot cum inside of you.”

“Y-yes,” you whimper out, forcing your hips to meet his relentless pace, smacking your butt onto his firm stomach.

“Look at you,” he presses forward, “Already turned into a cock-slut.”

The orgasm arrives with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs, his words ringing in your ears as you tremble under his body.

Even with your mind adrift in heaven, you can sense the way his hips start to stagger, losing their tempo as he meets his own release.

Taehyung’s moans are rough and deep and they quickly morph into the sound of your name. The warm feeling that spreads within your chest at the sound has nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with fondness. It is a dangerous feeling, you realize it immediately but, as soon as he’s hugging you close to his chest, struggling to balance his breathing and calm the quick pace of his heart, you let every rational thought hide back in the recess of your mind.

The minutes tick by in silence, only your mingling breaths filling up the room as you both gain back the control over your own limbs and it’s with the definite end of the blissful feelings that what happened tonight dawns to you. You had sex with your best friend over a bet. Hell, you lost the bet and this means this, right here, is only the beginning.

Panic surges quickly through your body and in the span of a few seconds you untangle yourself from him and dress back up at the best of your abilities.

“Why are you running away, ___?”

The sound of your name almost sounds foreign on his mouth when he has spent the entire night calling you everything but.

“I can’t exactly spend the night here, can I?” You ask, opening your arms to make him aware of the fact that this, despite your recent activities, is still a shop and very far from being a bedroom.

“Fair.” He says, leaning to the counter with one of his shoulders, smirking as he watches you get back into your shoes, ready to leave.

“You do realize you lost our bet, right?” He asks, a smirk firmly drawn on his lips, “You’ll have to keep your promise.”

“You motherfucking pig,” you hiss, picking up your purse ready to throw it at him, “I fucking hate you.”

He gingerly laughs, shaking his head with that annoying smirk still plastered all over his features, “You don’t hate all of me, though.”

His eyes take a quick lock to his cock and you roll your eyes, feigning to be gagging on thin air but you both know, you don’t even mean half of the resentment you are displaying to him.

As you turn on your heels and basically run to the door the only sound that accompanies you is his laugh and the embarrassment that it induces within you.

The sound of the door closing roughly behind your back is what ultimately cuts down that laugh and you sigh with relief, briskly walking away from Taehyung’s shop with your heart hammering in your chest for all the wrong reasons — will twenty hours be really this excruciatingly slow to pass?

#btssmutclub #bangtanbookclub #taehyung smut #taehyung crack #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts crack #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts scenario #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario

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kflirts · 5 years

Text

two is better than one

paring: you x mingi x wooyoung

genre: smut

word count: 3.3k

warnings: polyamory, voyeur, voilence and blood mention, just . a lot of smut, sub!wooyoung appearance (not for long dw)

notes: yet another fic swap with cait.

Having two hot boyfriends is convenient for a plethora of reasons. For example, twice the cuddles, two Valentine’s day gifts, two good morning texts and of course, twice the sex.

Having two hot boyfriends is especially cool when the werido sitting next to you is using pick up lines he definitely googled 4 minutes ago. Mingi had promised beforehand that he would not get jealous tonight and you were free to talk and do what you please (not that you needed his permission, you never listened to him anyway), and Wooyoung swore to be nice, so you were looking forward to a night out with your boys, but this guy really seemed to think the vacant seat beside you was an invitation into your pants. At first it was cute, it was nice to be reminded you were still hot to strangers, but at this point you were praying for Mingi to notice the lack of space in between the stranger and yourself.

“Is that ass made of sugar? Because it looks sweet as hell.” The dude chuckled, arm brushing your own and you fought the urge to ask him to kiss it and find out. You offered half of a smile as you searched for Mingi in the crowd to plead for help.

“What’s your name?” He asks, leaning in towards you, and you made a few polite shifts backwards. Your mouth opens to tell him to stuff it up his rectum, but you’re interrupted with a warm hand on your shoulder. You silently thank Jesus as you turn to look into the face of Wooyoung, who looks less than thrilled.

“She’s seeing someone, buddy.” Wooyoung says nonchalantly.

“What? You sure? Because it looks like she’s kinda digging me.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head slightly at Wooyoung, who’s grip on you only tightened. You knew both Wooyoung and Mingi were jealous, not because they didn’t trust you, just because they’re fucking insane.

“Trust me. She’s not.” Wooyoung looks to the waitress, ordering a drink for the both of you, he seems disinterested with this guy, to say the least. “Oh, also. Your pickup lines fucking suck, dude. Like.. they’re awful.”

The male’s jaw tightens, and you instinctively press into Wooyoung more when his hand lands on your knee. Normally, you would have kicked him where the sun never shines and taken his future children away, but with Wooyoung, you allow him to take care of it. Less work.

And take care of it he does, grabbing the man’s wrist and forcefully pushing him back. This seemed to startle the man a little, him blinking surprised.

“Hey, look, dude. I’m not going to pick a fight with you over a bitch.”

“Well, that’s too bad, ‘cause I’m picking one with you.” Mingi’s voice seemed to boom, like thunder or drums, as he grabbed the less than thrilled man by his coat collar, practically dragging him out of the bar through a side door. You move to stand, calling Mingi’s name, feeling sorry for the poor guy, who was certainly going to have a fucked up face by the time Mingi was done with him.

Wooyoun stopped you, handing you a drink. “I wouldn’t go out there if I were you, ____.” He said, shaking his head. “We both know there’s no stopping Min once he’s started.”

You sighed. He was right. Mingi was normally a very mellow, sweet man, but when provoked, he was a force to be reckoned with. And you should know. You provoked him frequently.

After about 6 and a half minutes, with no sign of Mingi, you began to worry. The guy only deserved a 2 minute ass beating, tops.

“You’re worried.” Wooyoung observed, smiling softly at your face in the bar’s lighting.

“No shit.” You respond, glacing to the door again. “What if he like... killed him or something.”

“Mingi’s not that dumb, ____.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Okay, yeah. We should probably check on him.” Wooyoung laid down money on the counter, before grasping your hand and leading you out the front door, looking for any sign of Mingi or the guy. When neither of you spot them, you began panicking, calling his name loudly. Wooyoung was slightly less worried, opting to call his phone instead.

“There he is.” You half shout, half sigh, jogging to meet a slightly red and definitely pissed Mingi emerging from an allyway. “Where’s the guy?”

“Don’t worry about him.” Mingi shrugged, wiping blood off of his arms.

“What in the fuck?” You notice more blood splatters, and your pulse quickens. “Mingi, what did you do?”

“Let’s just say he won’t be going contacting any women anytime soon.”

“Oh my god. Did you kill him?” Wooyoung asks from behind you.

“What the fuck? No, I stole his phone.” Mingi scoffs.

“I forget sometimes that you’re kind of an asshole.” You sigh.

“Yes. Thanks for noticing. I put a lot of effort into maintaining that persona.”

“Why?”

“So I can scare dicks who hit on you.”

“Yandere much?” Wooyoung chuckles as you all walk to the car.

“Y’know, blood isn’t a good color on you.” Wooyoung comments, half looking at you and Mingi in the backseat, half focusing on the road. Mingi had insised you sit in the back with him, to “tend to his wounds” (a scratch on his knuckle).

“Excuse me, it’s definitely my color, the red brings out my eyes.” Mingi responds, wiping the blood off of his arms with the babywipes you insisted you keep in the car at all times.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head, causing Mingi’s eyes to wander over your face. Sometimes he wondered what good deed he did in his past life to deserve having you, and his passion and persistence to make sure you were protected sometimes became anger at the world, knowing there were people out there who could hurt you, and he was determined to make sure they couldn’t, or die trying.

“You know, you really didn’t have to do all of that.” You said lowly, meeting Mingi’s eyes.

“And you didn’t have to entertain him as long as you did, but here we are, hm?” Mingi countered, his eyebrow raised.

“Don’t do that.” Your jaw dropped, feigning disbelief. “There was nothing I could do!”

“You could have came to me, dollface.” Wooyoung looked at you through the rear-view mirror, offering a smirk. You stuck out your tongue. Mingi clicked his tongue, gaining your attention again.

“You do know you’re in trouble now, right?” Mingi says, making quick eye contact with Wooyoung through the mirror. They speak in a silent language you can’t and don’t want to understand, eyebrows raising. Wooyoung’s lips tug up into a smile and your stomach drops in excitement and anticipation. You feel like teasing tonight.

“Why? I didn’t do anything.” You coo, poking out your lip at Mingi, tossing your leg over his.

Mingi looks as if he’s going to say something, but turns to Wooyoung instead, leaning forward.

“Woo. Do you think _____ behaved tonight?”

Wooyoung bit his lip, pretending to think. “Well, no. From what I saw, a guy had his hands on her.”

You opened your mouth in shock. “That’s so not fair, you’re both ganging up on me and you know that’s not how it went down!”

Mingi and Wooyoung both looked to you, and Mingi tilted his head. “Oh really? You want to talk back now. Hear that, Woo? She wants to talk back tonight.”

“If I have to pull over, it won’t be good for you, angel.” Wooyoung stared at you, glancing over his shoulder.

You clamp your mouth shut, crossing your arms over your chest and giving the both of them the evilest stares you can muster. Sex with Wooyoung and Mingi was more often times then not, a power struggle, Mingi declaring himself the ultimate power dom, and Wooyoung trying to convince the both of you he wasn’t a switch, only a soft dom. You’d gotten him into subspace more than once, but he begged you not to tell Mingi, saying it would “hurt his rep”. Sex with the both of them proved to last hours, Wooyoung teasing and Mingi’s over stimulation kink driving you insane. They liked to be able to take their time, so you doubted they would do anything in the car, or while Woo was driving, at least.

Mingi would prove you wrong in about 2 minutes. “Safe word, ____?”

You looked up, startled. Asking for the safeword was Mingi’s way of letting the both of you know shit was about to go down.

“Alabama.” You say, quietly. “But, Mingi, we’re in the ca-”

“It doesn’t matter if you cum quick, baby.” Mingi unbuckled himself, leaning into you. “How long ‘till home, Woo?”

“17 minutes.” Wooyoung’s voice was dry already, as it did when he was impatient, and Mingi hadn’t even started yet.

“I’ve seen you cum in 5. So, how much you wanna bet I can make you cum 3 times before we get inside?” Mingi smirked, planting wet kisses along your collarbone, shifting positions so you were trapped between him and the window behind you. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you grip the seat fabric, averting eyes to Wooyoung, as if he could help you. He offers no help, instead trying to focus on the dark roads ahead of him.

“Don’t look at Woo. Look at me.” Mingi commanded, his hand snaking down your dress before hiking it up around your hips, and tugging your panties to the side. “Tsk. Already wet.” He observes. You bring your eyes to the black haired male, biting your lip as you watch him position his lips at your entrance. You inhale as his tongue darts out to lick your slit, his eyes dating to catch your reaction. Your soft gasp makes Wooyoung crane his neck to see your face, the tent in his pants now evident.

“Fuck, how do you taste so good?” Mingi mumbles, using his hands to spread your legs, nipping your clit softly.

“I eat pineapples.” You half joke, half moan. Mingi gives you a look, taking your clit in his mouth in response. You catch your breath as he begins to harshly suck on it, moving his head side to side.

“Gi...” You moan quietly, a hand in his hair as you began grinding against his face, bucking your hips into him. He smirked, hand on your thigh pushing you back down, getting you to stay still. You whimper into your hand as he continues to suck, showing no mercy. Wooyoung tsks.

“Hand.” He says lowly, and Mingi uses his free hand to pull yours away from your mouth.

“Babygirl just isn’t listening well at all tonight, is she, Woo?” He says, shaking his head at you. He uses his middle finger to tease your entrance, before roughly pushing his finger inside you, coating it with your juices. This earns a loud whimper from you, and Wooyoung averts his eyes from the road to watch Mingi’s finger disappearing inside of you. The car swerves abruptly, and you snap your eyes open, looking at a sheepish Wooyoung.

“This is... such a bad idea.” You manage.

“What? You don’t think I’m a good driver, angel?” Wooyoung quirks his head.

“I know you aren’t.” You counter.

“Mingi, please shut her up.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Mingi grins, adding 2 more fingers and beginning to pump them into you at an insane rate. You immediately close your eyes, feeling tension build up in your stomach as you fight back moans.

“What’s wrong? Daddy got your tongue?” Mingi smirked, fake pouting. “I know for a fact that you can be a lot louder than that.“

You inwardly cursed him out, whimpers coming from your throat as he relentlessly fingered you. The tension started to become too much to handle and you managed to mewl out, “I think I... I’m gonna-”

“Do it.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, a string of curses and both of their names spilling out of your mouth as he rode you through your orgasm. By now, one of Wooyoung’s hands was definitely in his pants, and his breathing began slowing.

“Time, Woo?”

“13 minutes left.”

Mingi grins, never delaying in his fingering. “One down, two to go.”

“Ming...Mingi!” You cry at the over-stimulation. “Gimme a minute! Fuck!”

“Last time I checked, you don’t tell me what to fucking do.” Mingi didn’t relent, instead adding a fourth finger and flattening his tongue against your clit. It didn’t take long for the second orgasm to hit, your nerves already stimulated, and you were screaming by the third.

By the time the three of you made it to your apartment, your legs were jelly and Wooyoung was on the verge of cumming in his pants.

“My turn.” Wooyoung smirked, dropping his pants and sitting on the couch. “Saddle up, angel.”

You moan at the site of one of your boyfriends so ready for you, and oblige, straddling his hips, one hand on his shoulder for balance, the other on the base of his dick, lining him up with your entrance. Lubrication isnt even a problem, your own wetness and Woo’s precum proving to be more than enough as you slide his dick inbetween your folds. You slowly slide down his length until you get to the base, and immediately begin riding his dick. Wooyoung gasps, grabbing your hips to still you.

“Wait, angel. Adjust first.” He pulls you closer, his head in the curve of your neck. He waits a moment before snapping his hips up, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body.

“Wooyoung.” You sigh. “Can you just fuck me? Please?”

“Ah, is that what you want?”

Where Mingi was dominant, Wooyoung was a tease. Constantly pushing your buttons, living for your reactions. While Mingi would fuck you senseless, and then fuck you again, and again , Wooyoung found pleasure in the wait, in edging you on, making you beg for it. Foreplay was Woo’s favorite, a part of sex Mingi oftentimes skipped over. That’s one thing having two boyfriends benefits you. Where one lacks, the other picks up the slack. Where one had a weakness, the other one has a strength. The three of you together are absolutely amazing.

Now, Mingi sits in a chair across from the couch, palming himself through his jeans, shirtless. Wooyoung smirked at him from over your shoulder, bouncing you gently in his lap, and his cock scrapped against your walls agonizingly slow. You knew the best way to get Wooyoung to hurry up was to not entertain his teasing. He drew back out of you slowly, and you let out a quiet moan.

“Louder, Daddy can’t hear.” Mingi commanded from his spot. In response, you let out a cry from the cruel, slow pace at which Wooyoung was going. He was perfectly content, you knew. He could tease your walls for hours without releasing, you knew from a monumental weekend in Tokyo.

“Ride me.” Wooyoung commanded, and you didn’t hesitate to oblige him, thankful for the opportunity to pick up the pace. You rose and fell on his dick.

His hands traveled everywhere on you, from your ass, to choking you slightly, to your breasts, to your thighs, he explored every inch of you. Your hips began bucking more wildly, not following a rhythm, rather chasing your orgasm before he had time to deny you. Mingi noticed, chuckling to himself, hand now in his pants as he dragged his large hands across his length. His moans were low and throaty. You came down on him quicker and quicker, your fourth orgasm approaching, before his hips bucked up to meet yours, stopping you completely.. You opened your eyes as he smirked. You groaned as he began his slow pace from earlier.

“God, Woo.. How hard is it to let me cum?” You whined into his ear, tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s no fun that way.” Wooyoung kissed along your neck, his pace way too slow for your liking. You looked over your shoulder, seeing a sweaty Mingi.

“For fucks sakes, Wooyoung. Let the poor girl cum so I can fuck her face.”

Your pussy clenched around Woo at Mingi’s words, and Wooyoung sulked, nodding before wrapping his arms around your waist, trapping you to his body as he pounded into you roughly, your wetness dripping down to his balls, making the sounds loud and wet.

“Tell me what you want.” Wooyoung mumbled against your skin.

“You.” You breathed, feeling pressure in your stomach again.

“Who’s fucking you this good, hm, angel?” He breathed heavily, hips bucking into you and he slowed, only to find your sweet spot. Once he hit it you moaned so loudly, even Mingi’s breath hitched.

“You, Woo.”

“You can cum. Such a good girl for us tonight.” Wooyoung praised, and his words sent you over the edge, pleading and begging for Lord knows what, convulsing and shaking, your eyes rolled back into your head. One thing about Woo, when he did let you cum, he let you cum.

When you’d finally came down from your orgasm, you felt Mingi’s hands pull you from his lap, placing you inbetween his legs as he sat by Woo.

“I know you’re tired, baby.” He started, a hint of sympathy in his tone as he saw how fucked out you looked. “But I need to cum, you’ve got me so worked up. So I’m gonna fuck your face, okay?”

You, frankly, were still seeing stars, but you nodded, taking the base of his cock in your hand.

“No teasing today.” Mingi mumbles a warning, hissing at the feeling of your hands. You nod, smiling.

“When have I ever?” Your finger brushed his slit.

“Baby...” Mingi started, warning in his tone. You obediently opened your mouth, taking his head in. He immediately took over, pushing his dick all the way in, until your nose was pressed against his navel. You fought your gag reflex, swallowing around him.

“Fuck.” Mingi cursed under his breath, pushing in and out of your mouth until he’s hitting the back of your throat and then pulling off again. Wooyoung watched this, tugging his own dick, his light, airy moans contrasting Min’s heavy ones.

You swallowed again, and Mingi bucked his hips up roughly. “Look at Wooyoung, baby. Look at how subby he looks.” He teased. Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but with his lavender hair stuck to his skin and his pink lips parted like that, he did look subby. You smiled with your eyes, your hand pushing Woo’s off of his cock, replacing it with your own. You jerked Wooyoung off while you Mingi fucked your throat, and you held back tears at his unnecessary pace.

“I’m close.” Wooyoung sighed.

“Me too,” Mingi breathed, throaing his head back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Mingi chanted, and you swallowed. “Fuck, do that again and I’ll cum.”

You did it again, and you soon felt his hot liquid running down your throat. You swallowed it as he pulled out, his breath heavy and labored. He continued to curse. You focused on Wooyoung, roughly jerking at his shaft and teasing his slit, and he whimpered. You and Mingi exchanged glances, Mingi mouthing, “sub.”. You chuckled, and soon Woo was bucking into your hand, his cum painting your hand and arm, You quickly licked it off, maintaining eye contact as he rode his orgasm out. Once he came down, you smiled. He turned to Min, eyes glazed.

“Mingi.”

“Yes, Wooyoung?”

“You still got blood on your neck. It does bring out your eyes though.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, turning to you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?“

#ateez #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #ateez oneshot

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theladylovingcrow · 4 years

Text

New Places, Friendly Faces Part 3 (Sanny)

https://theladylovingcrow.tumblr.com/post/189298208331/new-places-friendly-faces-part-2-sanny

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow - writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner (Sanny), lil bit of Danny/Ronnie but he's quickly swept away with Sam

Length: about 2.3k

Warnings/Tags: Alternate Universe, Diner AU, No band AU, fluff, some angst, awkwardness, first dates, you know the ones where person A's date is failing and person B comes and sits with them, sorry i forgot what its called but that, hand holding, flirting, Sanny

Summary: Danny was nervous; he had been building up the courage for *weeks* to arrange a date, and now.... He wasn't quite sure what to think of the situation he found himself in. The night certainly wasn't going as he had expected it to - and his emotions had never ridden a roller coaster this fast. Hell, the beautiful angel holding his hand wasn't even the one he had arranged to meet 2 hours ago.

Author's Notes: Yep! I've officially adopted an every Monday post schedule for this, so that's cool! Just an fyi about the ending of this chapter, I'm so sorry to disappoint of you're hoping for a magical portal but that's not it (that wpuld have been cool but this is a mundane story)

https://theladylovingcrow.tumblr.com/post/189298208331/new-places-friendly-faces-part-2-sanny

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"Right... well, I'm officially off duty once I ring you up, so why don't you two get out of here and have some fun."

Danny fished into his pocket one handed, finding his wallet. He tried to open it and get a ten out while still holding on to Sam, but it was pretty difficult so he was forced to let go in order to pay. He thought it was a little overly dramatic of his heart, but it literally stopped beating out of disappointment for a second. God. He was already completely whipped.

Sam stood up and grabbed the keys, going back to his other table to put on his coat while Danny got his change back from Ronnie. She, now sitting at the table with her other brothers, waved them goodbye as they exited the cozy diner, stepping out into the frigid snow.

Sam immediately grabbed Danny's hand back, putting both of them in his pocket as he started to walk around the back of the building to the employee's section of the parking lot.

Sam suddenly stopped, turning to look at Danny. "Shit, wait, how did you come here? Do you have a car?"

"Uhh, my mom dropped me off."

Sam nodded and kept walking. Danny, for some reason, didn't want to leave it at that - Sam didn't seem overly judgemental, but he wanted to show that he wasn't a completely helpless dork.

"Usually I get her car on the weekends," he continued, "but she had some thing to attend over in North Star and she couldn't get a ride. She brought me here and gave me money for the bus to take home."

"Hey, well, now you don't have to take the bus!"

Sam grinned at him, unlocking the door to his sister's car and opening it for Danny. He smiled to himself and ducked his head, getting in. Fuck whatever societal expectations - not like they really applied to gay couples anyways - he loved to be treated sweetly, too.

Starting the ignition and carefully backing out of the parking space, Sam laughed, loud and happy. Danny looked at him curiously.

"Oh my god, I just picked up a total hottie and we're going on a rendezvous in my sister's car! This is crazy!"

Danny laughed, too, amazed at the situation. Like, holy shit, he was in this guy's (sister's) car that he had met less than an hour ago and they were on their way to who knew where. And he didn't even care! Never in his life had Danny been less concerned about the future; his music, his golfing, school, the world at large, none of it mattered when Sam was sitting next to him, singing along to Jimi Hendrix and looking absolutely stunning in the passing lamplight.

They drove for a time, speeding past cozy houses and dense acres of trees that outlined the starlit sky. Sam didn't seem to have a destination in mind any time soon, and Danny didn't really care if the car never stopped driving. The radio started to fuzz out as the got further into the woods, and nothing but an old talk show was coming in, so Sam had Danny put in his Clapton CD he'd left in Ronnie's car.

"I was looking for that! Figured I'd left it in here, but I don't get the car as often now that she's working more."

Danny nodded, enjoying hearing these little bits about Sam's siblings. It always interested him - learning small facts about people and getting glimpses into their lives, even more so when he was very interested in that person themselves, too.

"So, Ronnie is older than you, right?"

"Yeah, yeah she's a year older than me, she just started taking some classes at the adult school in Saginaw. She's been working at Gerald's for awhile, but she gets adult hours, now, which is good because we like to stay out late and go see her," Sam laughed.

"Oh, that's cool. What about your brothers, the twins? Are they your only other siblings?"

"Yes, fortunately. I don't know how Mom and Dad handled us, we're all within three years of each other. What about you, are you an only child?"

Danny had been right, they were all close in age. Four kids, two of them twins! He still couldn't wrap his head around how that could possibly work out for the parents, but they all seemed to be nice people and clearly got along well. It was pretty nice, actually, having a (potential) boyfriend with a good relationship with his family - Danny knew that it might of been a slightly unfair dating requirement, but he wanted someone who loved their family as much as he did.

"I have a younger sister, she's a freshman at Frankenmuth High. I'm a senior, by the way."

"Wait, what? Me too! I wonder why I've never seen you if we go to the same school. How have I never noticed you before?" Sam exclaimed, making a sharp turn and pulling off of the paved road onto a dirt track.

Danny contemplated that, too. How one Earth had he never seen Sam if they went to the same fucking school? Sam was, like, *magnetic* or something, it didn't make any sense.

Sam interrupted him, not meaning to, as he was about to speak. "Alright, we're here. Sorry, continue," he grinned at Danny, looking sheepish at cutting him off. Danny smiled in return, telling him it was alright.

They got out of the car, shutting the doors gently so as not to disturb the peaceful nighttime forest, and also not to dent Ronnie's car.

Danny resumed what he was saying as Sam led him around to the trunk and started rooting around. "About not seeing me at school, well, you didn't have a reason to until now. I mean, it's not like a lot of people know me, I don't have many friends and I kinda tend to stay to the side."

"I can't imagine how you don't have tons of people hanging off of you," Sam said, looking up at Danny with his foxy eyes glinting in the moonlight. (That was cheesy, Danny knew - but his eyes were beautiful) "Like, the only explanation I can come up with as to why you don't have half of the school constantly begging you to notice *them* is because everyone is crazy."

He blushed and grinned, enjoying the feeling of being the one flirted with for once. It was beyond comprehensible for Danny as to why Sam seemed so taken by *him*, but it wasn't something he wanted to give up anytime soon if he could help it, confusion or not.

"Wow, you are a smooth talker, aren't you?"

Sam snorted. "Hardly. I'm telling you what I honestly think, and it's this: I've known you for maybe two hours, and you are the kindest, sweetest, smartest, most beautiful person I've ever met. Past maybe my mother, but that's different. You deserve all the friends in the world, and you could have any boy or girl you choose, I'm sure."

"Well, I'm choosing you," Danny said, blushing and grabbing Sam's hand. He didn't know what it was, but he was being particularly mushy today. Luckily, Sam seemed to really like it.

Sam led him away from the car after locking it up, one arm carrying a briefcase looking container, and the other's hand holding Danny's. They walked through the light snowfall and under heavy bows of trees, going along a path Danny couldn't see but that, apparently, Sam knew well.

Danny had the quick thought that Sam was going to murder him, and maybe he shouldn't ignore his survival instincts, but he decided that Sam would *never* kill him. He also asked, though, just to be sure.

"Are you planning on killing me out here?"

Sam laughed his donkey bray, swinging their hands and taking another slight turn around a large tree. "No, I don't think I'd be able to physically overpower you, you're probably way stronger than I am."

"Oh, yeah? But what about a gun? What's in the box, Sammy?"

Danny was grinning inside, though externally he blocked it so that his facade wouldn't slip. Sam stopped and stood in front of him.

"I'll show you what's in the box!" Sam said, holding it up in front of his crotch like that SNL sketch.

"Ooh, my favorite!" Danny wiggled his brows, staring at the box where, right behind it, was Sam's dick. They both laughed, faces rosy and eyes crinkled.

Danny was glad that he had chosen Sam over Ronnie, not only for the fact that Sam actually liked him back, but that he got along so well with him. Even if the romance was a bust, he could tell that they would be very good friends, the connection was that immediate. And, he liked the idea of being best friends with a guy and then also getting to fuck his brains out at the end of the day.

'I'm getting ahead of myself, he said he has standards.'

'*No*, he said that he won't fuck you in his sister's car, but he wants to.'

"Sam, dude, where are we going? What are we doing out here, like, really?" He choked out, dying to know and also hoping that the plans included at least a kiss.

Danny hadn't been this desperate to kiss someone in- possibly forever, really. He didn't know why he was so intent on getting Sam's lips on him (though, he supposed he did: like, *look* at Sam's mouth). It wasn't like himself to be this out of control - albeit on his own head - but Sam had this effect on him.

Logically, Danny knew that if Sam wanted to go slower he would totally respect that choice and not even be put out about it, he liked just being with Sam that much. But, a kiss.... He wanted just a taste, in case this was the only date he got to have with Sam.

"We're almost there, and then I'll show you," Sam said quietly.

They continued walking, going up a gentle slope and then around a giant boulder. When they came around the other side, Danny saw that the rock had been obscuring a pristinely white, snow covered clearing. All around them, flakes fell softly from the sky, some decorating the trees, and others landing on their heads.

Sam turned to look at him, grinning. "Isn't it pretty? I feel like, whenever I come here, I've entered another dimension or something."

Danny nodded, his breath nearly taken away by the delicate magic of the moment. Well, it wasn't completely perfect - his nose was running, his gloveless hands were both freezing and clammy in Sam's, and he had no fucking clue where he was - but Sam was so, so beautiful in this place he had brought them to.

They stood and stared at the scene, taking in everything, from the stars peaking out from in between the clouds to the feel of their thumbs rubbing back and forth over each other's knuckles.

After a few minutes of silence, Sam broke it, speaking softly, "This is one of my favorite places on Earth to be. We come here during all seasons, but there's just something more.... *special*, I guess, when everything is pure and damp and quiet."

"It's really nice, I can see why you like to bring people here."

"Actually," Sam paused, looking shyly at Danny, "I've never taken anyone else. As far as I can tell, my family are the only people who know about it."

"Really? I- thank you so much for bringing me to such a special spot for you," he gasped, grinning back at Sam's little smile.

Danny was floored, absolutely amazed with this moment in his life. Sam had, for reasons he couldn't understand but figured he'd better stop worrying about, taken him to a place that no one else had been to. It was an intimate, deeply trusting gesture that he'd made, and Danny received it full-heartedly. The scenery felt sacred, now, in a way that he couldn't quite describe but that filled him with content.

"This really does mean a lot, that you're letting me view your spot. I don't know how to say thank you enough for trusting me with this- can I, maybe, take you somewhere special to me next time?"

He was shooting his shot, and praying to whatever deity felt nearest in this winter forest that it would hit it's mark. Sam had decided to take him here right after meeting him, so it *would* work, right? Danny really fucking hoped that it did, and that he hadn't ruined the relationship they were building. It was newly born and a little confusing, but in a good way; they were already fused together somehow, a connection running through them to make it seem like they'd known each other for years instead if hours.

"I'll go anywhere you wanna take me," Sam answered. He looked aware of how cliche what hed said was, but he also didnt seem to care. Damny was internally screaming with joy. "I wasn't sure where I was driving, at first, but I ended up on the path here, and it felt right. You being here feels nice and right."

Danny was smiling openly, happiness on display. He swung their hands and looked up at the sky, where the snow clouds where starting to clear, the last of the flakes finishing their journey to the ground. Sam leaned into him slightly, a pleasurable warmth permeating into Danny's body through the many layers of their clothing.

"This is perfect! I was hoping the clouds would clear up, cause this wouldnt really be much fun without it. Now, c'mon, let me show you the inside."

Danny was completely confused, again. "The inside?"

-----------

@satans-helper @okietrish @karrotkate @lazingonsunday @lantern-inthenight @ryetheruler @oblvions @bigthighsandstupidguys @mountainofthesunn

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jj-lynn21 · 4 years

Text

Santa’s favorite Elf ch 3: Bill Skarsgard & X Reader

Warnings: Angst, teasing,lite smut, lite PDA, innuendo,

Santa’s fav elf ch 1

Santa’s fav elf ch 2

Santa’s fav elf ch 3

Santa’s fav elf ch 4

After what seemed to be an endless amount of takes of you screaming and crying over Santa’s death more each time which even though it wasn’t real takes a true emotional toll, you finally hear those words you have longing for since at least the twenty-sixth take, “It’s a wrap!”. It really hasn’t been all that bad. You did get to chat with Santa between takes as they fixed his bullet ridden bloody suit and they are resetting some camera angles. He even pats his lap for you to sit down.

Santa Bill played it up as you sat there. “Ho Ho Ho. What do you want Santa to give you for Christmas?”

You giggle. “Oh, Santa you can give me what ever you think I deserve.” You lean in to whisper, “I might just be to naughty so maybe all I should get is a spanking.”

Santa chuckled. “Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho. Santa will have to make sure you get that.”

You almost fell off his lap when he he laughted because that fake belly really jiggled. He pulled you back up on his lap.“Be careful my favorite little elf. I don’t want you falling for Santa to hard.”

You giggled more. “I’m trying not to Santa, but you have some beautiful eyes and I loved getting that big package of yours earlier.”

You are talking in a whisper as much as possible since kids are still on set. You keep having to push his hand that isn’t holding you, from going to much under your dress.

Pushing his hand down to your knee you whisper in his ear, “Santa, what are you trying to do?”

Whispering back in your ear Santa replied, “I was just trying to rub up your thigh slowly to get my hand in those panties and…”

Getting up to go back to your mark when told. “Thank you Santa.”

After the day is wrapped the assistant director announces, “The snowstorm has caused a lot of accidents out there, so unless you live with ten or fifteen minutes of set you should probable stay at least over night at a local hotel.”

You whine. “Winter blows. I hate winter.”

Santa laughed, “Now I get the last name. I wasn’t thinking of it like that.” As everyone started going back to holding Santa hugged you. “After you get your stuff together meet me by my trailer. You are staying with me tonight.”

You grinned, “You think about that while I’m getting my things and checking out. I’m not sure you could handle an all nighter with me.”

You walked away. He licks his lips as he watched you go before he headed to make-up and wardrobe to get his Santa suite and beard off. You go to a separate area to turn in your elf outfit. Then you go grab the bag you had another outfit in since you knew the storm was coming and thought you might have to stay over night close by. You were glad you brought extra under garments also since you didn’t know how long you would be snowed in at this filming location.

After you check out with your pay slip of fifteen hours, you bundle up in your coat and hat to head to where Bill’s trail is located. The snow is still coming down and what is drifting outside is up to your calf.

As soon as the bodyguard standing outside the trailer sees you, he opens the door. “Bill will be here shortly. He told me to let you in to stay warm.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

You take your coat, hat, gloves and scarf off and open the refrigerator. There is bottled water. Coke, Pepsi, spite and a green bottled beverage called Pripps Bla. The green bottle looks like beer so you grab one. You open it and take a swig, after you sit on the couch. It is beer that tastes slightly similar to bud light.

Bill walks in seeing you, your head back with a beer in your hand. “You comfortable?”

You shoot up standing a bit startled. “Oh, sorry. Was it okay I grabbed a beer?”

He grabbed one, “To late now if it wasn’t.”

“Oh, that’s how you are.” You smirked. “Now that the Santa suits completely off you’re going to be a dick?”

He stared at you like he had no clue why you just said that. Maybe you said it because of the comment. Maybe it was you were tired from the twelve-hour shoot. Or maybe you were just already sick and tired of this cold icy, snowy storm blowing through even though it was the third one of the season and you live in the part of the world that it was a normal December occurrence. You put the beer on the table and grab your coat.

He grabs your arm. “Stay.” His puppy dog eyes pleading.

You keep your stance. “I might drink all your beer.”

He shrugged. You are just staring at each other when the driver and bodyguard knock.

Bill steppes away from you. “Come in.”

You and Bill sit at the table.

The driver nods, “(Y/N) what’s your license plate number? One of the PAs is going to drive your car behind us to Aloft.”

You raddled off your plate number.

He radios it to the PA. “You two should buckle up in the seats. I might need to use this thing as a snowplow.”

You head to the captain’s chair behind the driver as soon as Bill sits in the one behind his bodyguard. The driver gets the radio call that your car is right behind him, so he pulls out slowly. “We will take this slowly, but I’ll get you there. Are you two doing okay?”

You sighed. “It was a long day. I’m a bit tired.”

Bill agreed. “Yeah, long day.”

It takes a half hour to get the few blocks to the hotel. You go to get your coat and other winter stuff on when the trailer stops. Bill helps you with your coat.

He leans in. “I’m sorry. Can we get some dinner? Then if you just want to get some sleep that’s fine.”

You grab his hand as it lays on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I can get a bit sensitive and crabby when I’m tired and hungry. I think dinner is a great idea.”

When both of you are bundled up the bodyguard opens the door to get out first. Then Bill gets out and helps you. You smile and nod in a thank you motion not sure he can really see your face very well in the blinding snow. The driver comes out with your bag, a hanging garment bag and a backpack. He puts the things on a cart as the two of you are led straight to an elevator up to the twenty first floor.

There is a living room space with a love seat, chair and fifty-inch television on the wall when you walk inside the room. The bodyguard leaves two room keys on the bar to the right. Then he goes out. After he takes his coat off, Bill goes to sit down on the loveseat as you take in the large room. The furniture is red with white carpet throughout. The bar has three stoles and it looks like there is a refrigerator behind it with several beverages and mix-ins lining a shelf. The snow falling outside the floor to ceiling windows really looks beautiful. You walk over to the window looking out. Bill is rubbing his hands over his face.

“As long as I don’t have to be out there in it, it looks pretty.” you gaze at the magical scene as trees and roads get covered with snow.

Bill Looks up at your silhouette with the snow fall in front of you out the window, “Yeah, it’s a beautiful site from here. You’re…” He stops unsure of the words he wants to use.

You turn around to see that puppy face just pleading for attention. You walk over to the love seat and put your hand out to him. “I think I saw a restaurant downstairs when we came in, let’s go have some dinner.”

He gets up and puts his arm around your waist as his other hand grabs a room key from the bar. His bodyguard walks in front of the two of you and pushes the elevator button. The two of you get in and the bodyguard stands in front of you. He pushes the first floor. Rocking around the Christmas tree is playing when you get in the elevator but seconds later Love in an Elevator by Aerosmith starts playing. You burst out a laugh.

Bill looks at you. You look at him. He winks. You motion for him the see the sign by the numbered floors that in all caps says: NO FOOLING AROUND IN THE ELEVATOR. THERE IS A CAMERA. He pushes you into the corner of the elevator. Grabbing your ass as he leans in to give you a strong deep kiss your arms wrap around his middle resting your hands on his back as he takes your breath away. Its good you have on high heeled ankle boots, so he didn’t have to bend down so far.

The bodyguard clears his throat not moving from looking straight forward. “First floor is next.”

You and Bill straighten up quickly as the door opens. You both are smiling as you exit and turn left down a hall towards the hotel bar/restaurant called Vago. The hostess seats you right away. There are only a few other couples scattered throughout the Italian restaurant. The waitress comes over quickly and recommends some drinks. You order a caramel apple spritz. She is a little giddy but trying to be professional.

Bill smiles, “I’ll take whatever local beer you have here.”

She smiles back, “Oh, that’s awesome. I’ll be back to take your orders shortly.”

You laugh. “I think she likes you. Wonder if she’d be interested in a threesome?”

His mouth drops as he stares at you.

You shake your head. “Just kidding. I don’t want to share you.”

Bill swallows. “Oh, okay. I didn’t notice she was being any more attentive than other waiters and waitresses are usually.”

“I guess you would get use to it after a while.”Glanced around the room.

The waitress came back with your drinks. You smile and thank her. Bill thanks her also, then he orders Wagyu strip steak and you order Cavatelli. There is some light Christmas organ music playing in the air. The lighting is low with electric candles at each table. Bill reach over to take your hand and kisses the top of it. Then he looks at you softly.

You smile looking back at him. The snow is still falling outside the window next to you. It is up to the windowsill, but you don’t notice as you take in the site before you. The waitress brings your dinners out. You both sit back straightening in your chairs. As you eat and sip at your drinks you chat about the movie.

“You probably have the full script to this movie we are in, right?”

“Yes, I do. But I can’t show it to you, of course.”

“Of course. Can you tell me if we just shot the end of the movie?”

Grinning Bill answered, “No.”

You take a sip of your cocktail and a few more bites of your pasta. He eats his steak savoring every bite that goes in his mouth. You never knew someone could eat so sexily or maybe you are just so enamored that every move he makes seems sexy.

“Was that No, it wasn’t the end or no you can’t tell me?” You pried.

Bill chuckled “I can tell you that but, I’m pretty sure you will be called back to film more and not just because I’d like you around.”

That excited you., “Cool. That reminds me, I should check to see if I got a message for tomorrow. They message us the night before to say what time we should be on set the next day. You probably have a set schedule.”

“I do.”

You take your cellphone out of your dress pants pocket. He shakes his head and continues to enjoy his meal. You are really already full. You scroll through your emails and find a message from the casting director.

“Congratulations you were chosen to be apart of the production *The Darkest of Christmases*. Tomorrows filming has been canceled due to the winter storm, but things are supposed to lighten up tomorrow evening so we will message you more information tomorrow about a time and where you need to be for filming Wednesday. Reply if you are still interested.

Drive safely,

Casting

You quickly reply: I am still interested in filming this movie. Thank you. 😊

You Look at Bill. “Filming is canceled tomorrow, but I am scheduled to be part of the movie on Wednesday.”

You text your Mom back since she texted you six times when she didn’t hear you got home safe in the storm.

You text: I’m safe. Staying here a few nights instead of driving home in the weather. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. Long shoot day.

You put your phone away.

Bill tastes a sip of his beer. “That’s cool. I think Santa’s favorite elf needs an extra special gift for Christmas after watching him sprayed with bullets. It was pretty tragic, don’t you think?”

You grin flipping your boot off under the table and letting your toes lightly rub the outside of his pants. “Maybe Santa deserves a gift this year.”

He drops his fork looking at you as your toes try to fondle him under the table. “I think he does if his favorite elf wants to give.”

The waitress comes over. You stop what you are doing and slide your foot back in your boot. “Any refills on drinks or desert I can get you?”

Bill politely declines. “No, thank you. I’ll just sign for this so we can go.”

She puts the check down and he signed it.

He looks at you with a grin. “You ready?”

You nod and you both get up. The bodyguard is already in front of the two of you leading the way to the elevator. When the elevator opens, you step in with Bill with the bodyguard in front of both of you. The song Santa Clause Is Back in Town sung by Elvis is playing. You laugh as Bill spins you to dance in the elevator.

Santa Baby sung by Madonna starts next. You look up at him innocently singing.“I’ve been an awful good girl.”

He smirks. “No, you have been an awful naughty girl. When that door opens you better run.”

Your heart races as you hold his evil looking gaze. Oh, you love this look. The door opens and you bolt. You hear him laugh a bit manically as he comes out of the elevator after you. “Oh, I know your secret. Your dirty little secret.”

He catches up with you quickly and tosses you over his shoulder. You are laughing hysterically when he slaps your ass hard.

You yelled. “Fuck, Bill. What was that for?”

“You are a very naughty little elf.”He smacks your ass again.

You yip. He gets the door open and puts you down inside. His bodyguard stands outside. He is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You are so turned on you can barely breath and he knows, it. He unbuttons his dress shirt and takes off the t-shirt under it as he walks over towards the love seat. He takes off his pants and the boxers underneath before he sits down comfortably.

Bill looks at you, your eyes wide. “I know there is something you have been thinking about doing all day. I promise I’ll return the good will. I’m really up for it now if you are?”

#merry christmas #bill skarsgard #fanfic #fanfiction #fantasy #bill skarsgard x reader #happy holidays #bill skarsgard fanfiction

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haloud · 5 years

Text

tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul

ao3

It starts at the Wild Pony, that breeding ground for bad ideas.

It starts at the Wild Pony, where Kyle rarely goes, preferring to do his drinking at home with a book or the game on and his feet up rather than sticking to the floor of a bar. It starts with Michael’s finger hooked through his belt loop, and Kyle’s not stupid enough to follow Michael Guerin into an alleyway, but Michael puts his chin on his shoulder and grins that cowboy grin and says,

“So, Doc, you ever think my man deserves a little something special?”

Kyle rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of his scotch. The faster it goes down, the faster he can get away from whatever scheme Guerin’s concocting. “Talk to Liz or Maria if you’re trying to think of a gift for him. God knows you owe him one,” he says, unable to stop himself from firing that shot.

“Oh, trust me, I’m workin’ real hard on forgiveness.” Michael tugs his finger sharply, hauling Kyle in by the hip, making his chair scoot across the floor. “And I ain’t the hearts and flowers type. I already know the number one thing on his Christmas list and I’m gettin’ an early start.”

“So what exactly does this have to do with me?”

“You’re gonna help me give it to him, Doc. That is…if you’re feeling adventurous tonight.”

Kyle’s not drunk, and Kyle’s not stupid. The warning bells are ringing loud and clear. But he can’t say he’s never been curious, late at night, in his long-buried, hottest dreams. Michael runs his finger around the rim of Kyle’s glass then holds it up to the light, admiring the way a single drop of liquor reflects the neon.

Kyle swallows. “Define adventurous,” he says.

Michael licks liquid courage off his finger, eyes shining with triumph.

It starts when Alex answers the door all brittle and angry.

“Guerin, you’d better have a good explanation for disappearing instead of doing what—” he cuts himself off mid-rant, eyes going almost comically wide when he notices Kyle standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If you guys have unfinished business, I can hit the road,” Kyle says. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No need for that, Doc. I think Alex would agree that you’re right where you need to be right now.” Michael rocks on the balls of his feet, a little smile hovering on his face. He won’t quite meet Alex’s eyes, not until Alex strides as quickly across the porch as his crutch will allow to grab his chin and force him to. A long moment passes, Alex’s eyes searching Michael’s face as Michael stares steadily. Finally, Michael nods, and Alex drops his hand to his shoulder, closes his eyes, and takes a deep and steadying breath.

“Okay,” he says, blowing the air out in a huff. He turns to Kyle, something unknowable swirling in those well-known eyes. “I guess you should come in.”

It starts when Kyle’s back hits the mattress with a whump. Alex is standing above him, head cocked to the side, just watching. Kyle props himself up on his elbows and lets his gaze drag his childhood friend from head to toe, taking everything in. The strength of his jaw, the column of his neck, the breadth of his shoulders…is Kyle really doing this? Can he do this? Like, okay, he’s enough of an adult now to admit that sometimes guys are hot, that his youthful dickishness was mostly insecurity about his own identity with a heaping helping of ego. But actually being with a guy isn’t something he’s seriously considered…

Not until Michael Guerin found him already acting uncharacteristic, with determination in his swagger.

Not until he found himself on his back for Alex Manes, dick growing harder by the second just from being pinned under his studying soldier’s eyes.

“Michael, you’re going to sit in that chair and behave for once,” Alex says, not looking away. “And you’re going to remind the both of us what you did to deserve sitting out while I enjoy my gift.”

Michael’s lower lip juts out in a pout, but he says with shockingly little shame, “I broke my promise to stay in contact if I needed space, and I made you worry. Then I went out again without telling you after we hashed it out. To get Kyle.”

“Communication is key, after all,” Alex replies, smirking. “It’s a learning process for both of us. I’m not mad anymore, but this is going to help the lesson stick. Now take your seat, and I expect you to keep your comments to yourself as well.”

With a long, dramatic sigh, Michael snags a beer waiting on the end table and folds himself into the corner armchair sideways, long legs hanging off onto the floor, head propped on the arm of the chair so he can watch what happens on the bed.

“Now.” Alex leans his crutch against the wall, then gives Kyle his undivided attention. “Stand up. I want to see what I’m working with.”

Kyle slides off the bed, stuffs his hands in his pockets again. Wonders what the hell he’s doing here, in his father’s old cabin, about to—

Alex’s voice pulls him out of his head. “Well, you’re no Max Evans, but you’ll do.”

Kyle jerks his head up at the same time Michael makes a scalded, gagging noise from the corner. Alex cackles at his own awful joke, and Kyle shakes his head, unable to keep a smile off his face himself now that some of the tension is gone.

“How about you take your shirt off, Kyle? Let me see the body you spend all that time working on.” Alex sits down on the edge of the bed, reclining back on his hands. His eyes narrow as he waits for Kyle to react—to argue, to storm out?—and a faint smile still tugs at his lips. Like he could start laughing at any moment, and Kyle is torn between getting defensive (didn’t come here to be laughed at, don’t know why I came at all) and a rip current of fondness (always smiling, so strong, the Alex he always thought of as his Alex in the quiet of his own mind, even after he lost that right).

Instead of picking either of those two options, he jerks his t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion.

Michael whistles appreciatively, and Alex ignores him. He spreads his knees and curls a beckoning finger, reeling Kyle in until he’s standing between his legs, all close enough to touch.

“Good to see that vanity has its perks,” Alex quips, eyes stroking Kyle’s chest. He feels them in the hollow of his throat, against his ribs. His stomach clenches under their weight. “Now tell me. What are you doing here, Valenti?”

What a fucking question.

“Well, Guerin came to find me, and—”

“I know how you got here. I asked you what you’re doing here.”

Kyle’s stomach clenches again; Alex’s tone brings unexpected heat to the surface of his skin. His nipples tighten, exposed to the air, and he fights the urge to fold his arms to protect himself, like a virgin.

Alex is still expecting an answer. He arches a single eyebrow, and Kyle breaks.

“I don’t know where this is going or how far I can go, but I figured ‘what the hell,’ you know? And to be honest, this kind of feels like it’s been a long time coming. At least for me.”

“Well, it’s true that I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to you if I ever got you here. I am, officially, way ahead of you.”

Everything about Alex is wicked. Smirking mouth, dark eyes, the little hint of skin peeking out from his collar that Kyle has a wild urge to taste. Temptation. It only gets worse when Alex stands up. The inch between their heights could be a foot for all Kyle wants to curl up under Alex’s sheer presence.

Alex continues, “Lucky for you, I’m in a pretty good mood. And you’ve been on your best behavior lately, haven’t you?”

He pairs his words with the first, faintest touch—a fingertip skimming the crease where the v of Kyle’s groin begins. Kyle’s hips jerk forward like he’s been electrocuted, and a throaty chuckle from Michael’s corner fills the room. Blood rushes to his cock; blood rushes to his cheeks. The contrast makes his head spin. He has to look away from Alex before he passes out, so his eyes fall on the other person in the room.

Michael’s mouth curls sinfully around the lip of the bottle and he takes a long pull of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing once, twice, and again in the long column of his throat. All the while, he watches Kyle through lidded, glittering eyes. His mouth pops off the glass, the tip of his tongue chasing the lingering wetness on his lower lip.

Alex’s thumbs dig with brutal precision into the dimples of Kyle’s lower back, forcing a gasp into his lungs and a sharp arch into his spine. His ass grinds into the unmistakable hardness of Alex’s cock—and then, helplessly, he rolls his hips back again, chasing that brand-new sensation. Alex’s hand flies up to press against his stomach, anchoring him with its heavy heat, encouraging each little movement. Forward motion brings delicious friction between the callouses of Alex’s palm and the Kyle’s sensitive skin. Backward motion makes him blush so hard his ears are ringing; makes muscles he can barely bear to think about catch and release. He’s so hard it makes him ache.

He can’t stop. Doesn’t even want to. This should be weird, right? He should be weirded out by this? It’s not something Kyle’s ever spent much time thinking about, being with a man. The logistics of it, the practicalities, the visceral, physical difference in how a man’s body would feel running against his. And it’s all happening so fast, he’s hard as a rock, he wants all these things he barely even has words for—he’s grinding on his childhood friend’s crotch like the school slut on prom night and all he wants is more.

“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Alex murmurs. He grabs Kyle’s hips, forces them to still so Alex can frot directly where Kyle wants him, right against the crack of has ass. It sends a bolt of both apprehension and pure pleasure right down his spine, even through multiple layers of cotton and denim. It feels so good it forces Kyle to bend at the waist, to go onto his tiptoes, to give Alex all the space he needs to do whatever he wants, as long as he doesn’t stop. Kyle can feel pre dripping from the head of his cock, a sopping wet spot forming in his boxer briefs, but he doesn’t even care if he comes in his pants as long as he gets some relief and soon. The only sound in the room is stuttered breathing, little ah ah ah desperate sounds, and they’re all coming from him. The realization just brings a whole, full-throated moan to his lips. Michael gasps when he lets it out, and Alex croons a wordless, soothing sound that Kyle wishes he could wrap around himself at night.

The bed dips under Alex’s added weight, and Kyle turns his head to look at him. He forces his lips to form words and says, “Is this alright? Your leg—”

A flicker passes over Alex’s face, but he takes a deep breath and just kisses Kyle on the temple. “It’s fine. I’ve been using the crutch more around the house again, keeping weight off it…not for situations just like this, but hey, whatever works.” He winks, then gets serious again. “Just figured that hey, what do I have to prove? There’s no sense in acting like it didn’t happen, like pretending will make it go away, so it’s time to live with it. Your concern is touching, truly—”

Kyle cuts him off with a kiss, a real one, their first. It’s an awkward angle, but that doesn’t stop him from opening his mouth to swipe his tongue across Alex’s for the first, intoxicating taste of him. Alex grips his hair firmly to regain control, and Kyle has to break away to gasp for air, his every muscle trembling and weak.

Alex tastes like the same beer Michael’s drinking, and Kyle would love for the three of them to be drunk together. Collapsing face down on the duvet, Kyle breathes in the clean scent of lemon detergent and Alex’s skin and tries to regain his equilibrium.

Michael groans loudly, insistently, and Alex says, “I should remind you to be quiet, but honestly I have to agree.” Alex shucks his own shirt and tosses it to the side, then approaches Kyle’s prone body. “You’ve always been hot, Valenti, but I had no idea you had this in you. Do you like a firm hand, is that it? I guess now we know what you saw in Liz—or, rather, what she saw in you.”

Medical science is for assholes, Kyle rapidly decides. Spontaneous combustion is totally possible and should, in fact, happen right now.

While Kyle squirms, Alex rearranges some pillows to support his knee. “Lift up,” he says, tugging Kyle’s hips into place and slotting the remaining pillow beneath them.

A long moment passes, and in it Kyle searches himself again for any hesitation, any lingering freakout, but there’s just…nothing. Nothing but lust, nothing but the ache low in his belly and between his legs. Nothing but rapidly-growing need for Alex hard and hot behind him, above him.

“It’s time to get these jeans off,” Alex says. He pauses for a protest with his hand on Kyle’s belt buckle, but when nothing comes he doesn’t hesitate to strip Kyle down to his final layer of protection.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The snap of Alex’s fingers makes Kyle jump, and the snap in his voice draws the barest, embarrassing vibration of a moan into his throat. He dares to raise his head from the mattress just enough to see Michael frozen half-risen from his chair, muscles in his arms trembling lightly as he holds his position.

“I was just trying to see better—” Michael’s voice goes soft and whiny and, shock of shocks, Kyle dick throbs in sympathy. He’d find it hard to sit still too if all he could do was look and not touch.

“Stay right there and behave. I’ll deal with you later,” Alex says. Kyle shivers in pure relief, goosebumps prickling on every inch of his skin. Thank god he’s not the one being made to wait, not now, not when everything is so raw, so new, so real.

Michael’s throat bobs one more time, like he’s still got a mouthful of liquor. Slowly, he lowers himself back down and drawls, “Aye aye, Captain,” like the insolent little fuck he always is. He settles down, draped like a cat and just as observant.

A muscle ticks in Alex’s jaw, and that little show of anger and restraint is so fucking hot it makes Kyle’s toes curl. Maybe if Kyle’s good Alex will let him watch later like he’s letting Michael watch now. His ears burn at the thought, but honestly the prospect of a repeat performance of this…whatever this is…is looking better and better all the time.

Alex notices anyway. Kyle snaps his gaze back to the plain gray duvet only a millisecond after Alex’s molten-dark eyes spot him watching, but it’s still too late. Alex bends languidly until his chest brushes the skin of Kyle’s back and his lips caress the overheated shell of his ear.

“Something you want to say, Valenti?” He purrs, hips beginning a teasing roll against the meat of Kyle’s thigh. “You starting to feel neglected? Well, we can’t have that.”

God, it’s so fucking hot, the only air to breathe searing his lungs like a car that’s been baking in the sun from dawn to dusk. This time, for the first time, Kyle’s answering moan is loud and shameless and just inches shy of begging, and Alex laughs just as shamelessly, nipping his ear before straightening up and increasing his rhythm. Kyle moans again, quieter but no less desperate, nuzzling into his own folded arms to hide his face. From across the room, Michael lets out a harmonizing hum.

God, what is Alex doing to him? What’s he done to Michael? How is it that he can keep the both of them dancing on strings by barely lifting a finger? Alex has always had presence—and sure, there’s been a girl or two capable of bringing Kyle to his knees, he’s not ashamed of it—but Alex like this? He’s a goddamn maestro, and Kyle and Michael are nothing but instruments bent to his will.

“Are you ready to lose these?” Alex snaps the waistband of Kyle’s boxer briefs. Despite the inevitable direction things have been heading, the question still catches Kyle off guard, and he stills, unsure.

Does he want this? He’s crossed a hell of a lot of lines already this evening, but this is the first one that feels like the point of no return. It’ll be hard enough to go to work tomorrow still feeling the scratch and burn of Alex’s calloused hands on oversensitive skin; it’ll be hard enough dealing with Michael ever again and not going shivering and open at his smirking mouth and whiskey-light gaze. If they go any further, Kyle’s gonna come out changed, and he just…he just needs a moment.

“If you’re not comfortable, all you gotta do is say so,” Michael interjects. “Trust me, Alex’ll make it good no matter what.”

“Hush,” Alex replies, but there’s a smile in his voice.

Turning his attention back to Kyle, Alex drags his hands firmly from the top of Kyle’s spine to his tailbone, leaving two blazing, trembling trails of sensation behind. Compared to what Kyle’s known before, Alex’s hands feel massive, inescapable, spanning almost the whole width of his back in sweeping, spine-tingling caresses. Kyle grits his teeth as, helplessly, his hips twitch and the muscles of his ass contract.

“What do you say, Kyle? You’ve already been humping the pillow, moving your ass like you’re hungry for it. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to rub your skin against my cock with nothing in between?” He presses a hot, wet kiss to the back of Kyle’s neck.

Kyle surrenders the only way he knows how, nodding jerkily, letting his legs fall open and easy. His voice is lost, but all he wants Alex to know is yes, yes, yes, yes.

“I need you to use your words, Kyle.”

“God, yes! Yeah, ok, yes, just do it, god—”

“Good.” Alex says, following up his words with his tongue licking a filthy swipe across Kyle’s ear. Kyle gasps and twitches away from the sensation, only to wind up frozen like a rabbit in a trap when Alex runs a fingertip across the skin at his waistband. The contrasting sensations are driving him out of his mind; if Alex so much as touched his cock right now he’d come in his pants like a dumb kid.

“Hurry,” Kyle whines, trying to drag his hips against the bed, both for the delicious friction on his aching groin and as an attempt to squirm out of his clothes.

“You know, I’m glad you’re so eager,” Alex says conversationally, rolling Kyle’s waistband until the curve of his ass is exposed. He shudders at the caress of air and expectation. “You’re sweet,” Alex continues with a low, throaty chuckle, “and it’s a nice surprise. I was afraid you’d pull some throwback machismo bullshit, but no, you’re so well behaved. Maybe Michael should be taking notes.”

“Fuck!” Kyle’s shout drowns out Michael’s angry hiss. The words of praise send an unexpected ripple of heat through Kyle—heart-pounding, belly-clenching heat that forces him to scramble to get a hand around his cock, to hold off his suddenly imminent orgasm. Alex is faster, though, and before Kyle knows what’s happening he’s spread-eagle and immobile, Alex’s knees bracketing his thighs, his hands pinioning his wrists. And Kyle can’t do anything but sob—it’s too overwhelming, he’s trapped and he’s throbbing and he’s probably disappointed Alex which for reasons Kyle can’t explain makes him want to throw up and hide.

But no. Instead of—any of those things that make Kyle sick with fear, all Alex does is loosen his hold and say, “Everything alright, Valenti? If we need to slow the roll a little bit, It’s okay. It’s whatever you need.”

Kyle sucks in a watery breath. Everything still feels more wrong than it did just moments ago, and before he can stop himself he says, “It’s just that I was about to come. I…didn’t want to end things before they really got going.”

Then it’s Alex’s turn to hiss. His hands tighten briefly, almost enough to leave little bruising rings around Kyle’s wrists. If he pushed up against that grip, they wouldn’t budge at all, and something about that thought sends another pulse through Kyle’s groin. Then the tight hold disappears, and Kyle is left clenching his fists and wishing he could have it back.

“Roll over.”

Alex’s voice is kind but still firm, still in control. Kyle doesn’t want to argue, wants to keep riding this headspace where it’s so easy just to follow orders, just to lie still and be what Alex tells him to be. But he’s not sure he can do this—let Alex see every inch of him, bare his face to Alex’s endless gaze.

“I’d rather not,” he chokes out, wiping his face on the bedsheet to remove the worst of the mess—the tear tracks, the thin line of drool.

“I want to check in with you. Switch things up a bit. It’s okay, Kyle.” Gentle hands wrap around his hips and nudge them to turn.

“Don’t be shy, Doc,” Michael says. And it’s actually the fact that Kyle can tell Michael hasn’t moved—that he’s still following Alex’s orders too—that gives Kyle the strength to obey.

“There you are,” Alex says, and—

God.

He’s so fucking beautiful. It’s all Kyle can think—it bundles up his breath inside his chest and then shakes it all loose at once. His mouth, pink and full, curved into a warm smile. The way his skin glows in the low light, impossibly even and smooth. Those dark eyes; his hair, sweaty and tousled and—Kyle knows now, he’s kissed that mouth, he’s had that skin against his skin, he knows how soft that hair is through his fingers.

No wonder Guerin’s addicted.

“Seriously, are you okay?” Alex’s head tilts adorably, but his smile fades a bit. He brushes his thumb across Kyle’s cheek, and Kyle instinctively turns into the touch, pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” His voice breaks; he clears his throat. “This is all kind of a lot, but,” he bucks his hips, bringing attention back to his still-hard dick, “I can handle whatever you can dish out, Manes.”

Michael whoops in triumph from across the room. It’s just this side of mocking, but when Kyle glances his way, he sees that Michael’s just as hard as he is, with no hope of relief. Their eyes lock for a moment; Michael winks at him and licks his lips suggestively.

“Eyes on me, Kyle.” The steel has returned to Alex’s voice, and his weight resettles on the tops of Kyle’s thighs. “If you encourage him, it’ll only make it worse for him later. You know, if we keep doing this, he’ll try to get you in trouble.”

“You love it,” Michael drawls, blowing them a kiss.

“Not tonight. Tonight is all about Kyle.”

“No arguments here. He’s giving me plenty to think about.”

Alex massages a soothing hand against Kyle’s shoulder and leans their foreheads together for a kiss. “What do you want now?” he asks when they part: “What do you want to do next?”

Kyle gulps, but having Alex so close, it’s—there’s no way to not be honest. He’s unstoppable. Forceful, just in his breathing, in his smiling. Magnetic.

“I…I kind of liked how it was before. Me on my front. I-I also liked you holding me down, it was…” Kyle’s voice dies out, but from the fire ignited in Alex’s eyes, he’s already said plenty. Alex’s strong hands flip him over again, readjust the pillow to force his ass up at an angle. Kyle arches his back to force it up even higher and grinds his cock into the soft surface as part of the bargain. They both went a little soft during the check-in, but that situation rapidly reverses as Alex runs his hands over Kyle’s ass and the backs of his thighs. The muscles of Kyle’s thighs twitch and jump at every touch, and he whines.

“You really are made for this. It’s incredible.”

Kyle hears the sound of Alex’s jeans hitting the floor. His fingers are starting to cramp where he’s clutching the sheets.

“I’m not fucking you tonight. That was never in the cards,” Alex says, running a finger down the crack of Kyle’s ass all the same. Kyle muffles a sob with his teeth sunk into his own arm. “But even then, I can get a head start on the planning, what do you say?”

What Kyle says is something along the lines of mgmphl, which is honestly eloquent considering his circumstances.

“Yeah, I think there’s a lot we’re going to explore, Valenti. However long it takes, we’re going to see how deep this need of yours to present your ass and beg goes. Will it be enough just to get my cock, or will you need Guerin’s too?”

Kyle rolls his hips into the pillow without rhythm, just chasing any release he can get, but it’s not good enough, not anymore, not without Alex pressing back against him.

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Someone as untouched and needy as you—you’d go to pieces with a single finger, wouldn’t you? Just a little stretch, until you get used to it and have to find something bigger to satisfy you. Does that sound good?”

“Alex, Alex, please,” Kyle groans, trying to wave his ass to get him to do something other than drive him crazy with promises. He only succeeds in losing his balance, one knee slipping out from under him and leaving him splayed without any leverage to get friction at all, and all he can do is whine.

And Alex pounces. Kyle doesn’t know when he dropped his own underwear, but finally here’s all of him—every muscle, all that skin, and his cock dragging between the cheeks of Kyle’s ass like they were made to fit together. Kyle releases the sheets to yank at his own hair instead, squirming helplessly back against Alex’s weight, unable to do anything but gasp and cry out and beg for a hand on his cock to help him out.

Alex finally shows mercy, wrapping his wonderful, amazing palm around Kyle’s shaft and jerking it in time with the roll of his hips. But it’s just as much the next words Alex growls in his ear that tips Kyle over the edge—

“I’ll get you a toy just for you, something you can stuff up inside yourself when you’re feeling hot and lonely and needing this, needing cock, needing me—I’ll send Guerin out looking for you and bring you back here to me already open and ready, sink inside you and stay there for hours and send you back home stuffed again—”

Kyle comes with a choked cry, hips jerking clumsily, every muscle in his body clenched for a long, glorious moment before he melts back into the blankets and pillows, utterly boneless. Alex abandons his words in favor of fucking himself against Kyle’s ass and thighs, until he raises himself up and brings himself off with his hand, come striping scalding-hot and claiming against Kyle’s lower back.

They collapse together, panting harshly, Alex kissing and licking at Kyle’s shoulder blades while Kyle tries to come back down to earth. With a gloriously open laugh, Alex rolls off of Kyle’s back and pulls him into his arms. Kyle joins in on the laughter, butting his forehead into Alex’s shoulder, breathless and giddy and young.

“Get over here, Guerin,” Alex says, reaching out his other arm to make room. Predictably, however, Michael swaggers over and flops himself fully clothed right in between Kyle and Alex, worming his way into both their embraces. It puts him squarely on the wet spot, though, and his hair is soft, and he smells just the same as Alex. So it’s not like Kyle is complaining.

At least until he opens his mouth again, that is.

“Next time you do that to me, I’m making a porno,” Michael says, and Alex shuts him up with a kiss.

#roswell new mexico #mylex #malex #kylex #kyle valenti #alex manes #michael guerin #it's basically 5k of kylex getting it on while michael watches #if that's your kind of thing #this is VERY self-indulgent

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