#but new reason is that it was unprotected 😁

[sxtaep]

THE HATING GAME - JJK

working together with your biggest competition was not something you saw yourself doing often. but fucking him one late night at office? never in a million years.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — angst, smut

word count — 7.2k

warnings/tags — lawyer!jk x lawyer!reader, enemies2lovers, dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, provocation, insults, petty arguing, vague mentions of murder/strangulation, jealousy, teasing, lying, denial, tension x100, improvisation, touching, so much sarcasm, explicit smut, light bondage, grinding, neck kisses, nipple play, tit slapping, begging, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), cunnilingus, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, tongue fucking, dick slapping (face), edging, crying, slapping (like once), spanking, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), light pain kink, finger sucking, angry fucking, creampie, making out, cum eating, post-nut clarity, both very lost and confused by the end.

paired with this edit made by yours truly 🤭

a/n: hello and welcome to jahanara feeding into her office romance fantasies pt98583616 😭 please enjoy this very long and drawn out piece (similar to illicit desire) but more detailed, more descriptive and can be read as a stand-alone.

if you came from tiktok, hello and welcome to the dark side 😁 enjoy the long-awaited lawyer!jk au!

btw this fic has nothing to do with the book/movie called ‘the hating game’ the name just fit this ok 🙄

“We need to talk,” Jungkook’s voice causes your chest to falter as he enters his office, waiting for you to enter before shutting the door behind you and making home on the seat behind his desk.

“We can’t do this case.”

If you could burst out laughing right now, you would, but this was a professional work environment, “You invite me into your office, distracting me from my own work, just to tell me something I already know?” You make yourself comfortable in the seat opposite his, paying him a fake smile, “I don’t know why you’re panicking, we can easily get out of this. We can just say we have too much on our plate to take on a new case. There, done,” you shrug, leaning back in the seat without a care in the world.

Mr Jeon, your boss, thought it’d be a good idea to pair you up with Jungkook to work on a class case.

Why he’d even make that decision was beyond you. Neither of you got along well, trying too hard to one-up each other, spewing insults back and forth like there was no tomorrow. Failure to work well together in this case, you were both threatened with temporary suspension.

“Yeah, you’re forgetting one thing,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“My dad owns the fucking place.”

Yeah, your boss happened to be Jungkook’s dad, and honestly, it wasn’t such a bad thing. He was treated the same way as the other employees, sometimes a bit worse when it came to you.

You were his favourite employee, the absolute star of his team.

“He’s handed our current cases to another attorney so we can focus on this,” Jungkook groans, getting out of his seat to pace around your office as if he were going through a midlife crisis. He halts after a little dilly-dallying, “We should just take the suspension.”

"Pardon you, but I've got bills to pay, and I can't be having that suspension show up on my job record," you try to reason with him, but Jungkook didn't look very convinced. "Think about it this way…” you trail off, leaving your seat behind your desk to head over to him, standing confident in front of him, “When you're suspended, you're pretty much fired for an unfixed period.”

You were willing to work with Jungkook, just to get this whole thing out of the way, and there was only one way to get him on board.

Provoking him.

“I’m sure the Jeon Jungkook doesn’t wanna get suspended by his own daddy, right?” you taunt him, your voice getting quieter with each word.

Jungkook knew you were messing with him, and hated how you actually got under his skin, but with a defeated sigh, he agrees, “Fine, let’s win this case. How about we work on it over at your place? I’m sure you’ve got no plans for the weekend,” he scoffs, cocking a brow at your overly-confident form.

“I actually have a date this weekend,” you shrug, turning your back towards him ready to take your leave. “We can work on it later tonight, I’m leaving now.”

A date? There’s no way…

Jungkook is quick to rush to the door, blocking you from opening the door just as you reach out for the door knob. His arms were extended out to his sides, stopping you from leaving.

He needed to know who this guy was and why the hell he would go on a date with you of all people. “A date? Someone actually wants to sit and have dinner with you?” he questions, like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “He’s gotta be deaf or blind.”

Now, with shit like this, you’d walk away, but Jungkook rendered you trapped in his office, “Listen you conceited asshole,” your index fingers goes to jab at his chest and you have to force yourself to ignore how built he was under his shirt, “I don’t like you. Never have, never will. We’re all a bit different outside of work but I’ve restricted you from seeing that side of me because you don’t deserve it.”

It was a simple and truthful explanation, you hated Jungkook beyond words, neither of you had a relationship outside of the firm. Your work persona would definitely not attract a guy with how much of a workaholic you were.

You needed this date, as a break from all the hardships these cases brought you.

Jungkook pondered your words carefully. Maybe he was a bit iffy about not having a relationship with you outside of work, he didn’t wanna be just a “work colleague” or that “annoying guy from work. He had way too much pride for that.

“Now if you could please stop hogging the door, that would be great. I don’t think I wanna spend another minute with you in your office.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” Jungkook sneers as he steps away from the door. It doesn't even register to either of you that this could be counted as an argument. How easily you both bumped heads with each other would have to come to a stop now that Mr Jeon was keeping a keen eye on you two.

As the day comes to night, you were still locked away in your office, reading away at your newly appointed case details and taking brief notes. The details were… gory to say the least, and exceptionally hard to read, but being a lawyer, you’d gotten used to it, having read the worst of the worst during your career. It was pretty much a skill to read such gruesome and ill details of murders, kidnappings and assaults with a straight face.

You were lucky not to be the only one reading up on gore so late at night, Jungkook waltzing through your office without knocking (as he always did) with a cup of coffee in his hand. He doesn’t say a word and instead sets the cup on your desk and takes a seat opposite you.

You thought you were seeing things.

Jeon Jungkook buying you coffee? That’s a first.

You don’t say anything, reaching out for the cup and bringing it close to your lips, about to take a sip, but you stop.

“You didn’t poison it, did you?”

As the man was getting comfortable in his seat, he deadpans, “Seriously? What am I, five?”

“Mmm, you act like it,” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of the coffee anyway.

Thankfully, you were still up and alive.

“Have you had a look at the case yet? It’s a lot of information,” Jungkook says absentmindedly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he propped his feet up onto your desk; a move you’d witnessed on so many occasions, you’d gotten too tired to reprimand him for it.

You set the cup down and speculate over the mess of paper on your desk with a sigh, “Yeah.. I think it might be the hardest we’ve gotten yet.”

You pull out a photo of the crime scene from under the file, sliding it towards him.

It was a very clear image of strangulation on the victim, faded blood and marks of red around the victim’s neck.

All caused by his own father.

“So what are we? Defence or Prosecution?” You’d usually decide this part on your own, but you wanted to hear his thoughts first and ensure he was on the same page as you.

“Easy,” his eyes dip down to your desk, analysing the photo, “We’re defence,” he decides with no hesitation, pulling on his tie to loosen it slightly around his collar.

“What? You wanna go Defence? Seriously?” You thought prosecuting would be the most obvious route to take seeing as the evidence pointed towards the father of the victim being the obvious murderer.

“I spoke with Jimin about it earlier and he also thinks Defence would be the easier route for us.”

“Oh, so it’s just Jimin’s word against mine now?” you arch a brow at him, tilting your head to the side, awaiting a bullshit answer from him.

From the tone of your voice, Jungkook knew you were slowly getting worked up, and quite frankly, there was too much at stake to be arguing when the case hadn’t even started yet. “You know what, we’ll be the Prosecution if it shuts you up.”

As long as you got what you wanted.

“So who’s taking you on a date this weekend?”

Jungkook’s sudden question surprised you. You couldn’t think of one valid reason as to why he cared.

“Um, you probably don’t know him, but his name is Jung Hoseok—”

“—I know him.”

Of course Jungkook knew him; the pair went to law school together but parted ways after Hoseok got a job as a district attorney in the states.

He only returned a couple years back after becoming a legal director at their opposing law firm.

You regretted giving away Hoseok’s name. Now that Jungkook, your absolute nemesis, knew your potential love interest, he was probably planning to absolutely shit talk you to stop you from finding love to feed his bitter self.

“I know Hoseok pretty well, actually. He’s not really fit to be a boss if I’m being honest,” Jungkook recalls, remembering many times back in law school when leadership roles in team activities were up for grabs and Hoseok would always steer clear of them. “Surprised he’s willing to date a bitch,” he snickers, waiting for you to cuss him out.

“Listen, you’re tired, I’m tired, I don’t wanna talk about who’s a bitch and who’s fit enough to be a boss… and it’s definitely not you.”

“Oh yeah? What does Jung Hoseok have that I don’t?”

“Compassion, respect, authority, control, not to mention, he’s quite the attractive man,” you shrug with a sly smile, continuing to boast about Hoseok and at the moment, Jungkook was regretting even asking in the first place.

He could be all that and more.

“But our relationship isn’t very deeply rooted. We’re not in love or anything, we’ve only been on one date so our relationship is at the minimum right now.”

Jungkook didn’t ask for a dramatic reading of your relationship, and he’d just about heard enough, “Yeah, whatever. Can you cook? You should cook for us this weekend. You know, get the brain juice flowing or whatever it’s called,” he stands up abruptly, stretching his arms above his head before heading over to your couch, slouching against the material as he looks over at you, awaiting an answer.

“Why would I cook for someone I hate?”

“You don’t hate me,” he throws back at you, a sly smirk adorning his features, “You pick fights with me and always get competitive, because when you overcome me, it makes you feel better about yourself.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, pondering his words a little.

Maybe he was right to an extent. Nothing felt better than being put against each other and reigning victorious. Everyone in the firm knew how competitive you both were and always steered clear of any kind of opportunity to compete with you.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “Hmm… Maybe I might just have a thing for you, who knows,” you respond casually, shrugging your shoulders just to mess with him a little. “But that’s what you want, right? Another girl to fawn over you?” you taunt him, keeping your eyes trained on him as you recall the number of women that had bombarded your office earlier today after you were counted ‘lucky’ for working with Jungkook, ‘the most attractive guy in the firm.’

Now that made him fix his posture, sitting up for what could only be the most predictable thing he’d ever heard, “Oh my god, I knew it,” he laughs, almost demeaningly, “Everyone and their mum has a thing for me, you’re no different,” he shook his head in disbelief, a large grin spread across his face. “So that’s why you always argue with me, huh? Just so you can talk to me? That’s cute, especially since it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you question, slightly offended.

“Because it’s gonna be fun having the Y/N, my biggest competition, falling in love with me, Jeon Jungkook. Imagine all the headlines that would make.”

God, he’s so full of himself.

As much as you hated how egotistical he was, you wanted to continue your little play act, rising to your feet and walking over to Jungkook by the couch and once near enough, you grab the end of his tie, leaning down towards him and pulling him close to your face with a deceitful smile gracing your lips, “Oh Jeon… You’re so smart, I can’t believe you figured me out so quickly…” you whisper, voice as soft as ever and something Jungkook had never heard before.

He couldn’t deny, your hold on his tie was probably the most attractive thing he’d ever witnessed, but he would never flat-out admit it to you.

Jungkook lifts his hand to gently rest against your cheek, merely trying to see just how far you’d go to keep this act up, “Mhm, I bet you like where we are now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dropping several octaves and matching the volume of what was once your voice, now barely there as your mind went blank and his eyes proceeded to dance between your lips and your eyes.

Your cheeks had heated up drastically under his touch and you weren’t expecting him to make a comeback like that, and you really weren’t prepared to take things any further, but your pride would take a major blow if you backed out now.

Besides, the setting was perfect for that kind of moment; a near empty building, alone in the office, lights dimmed down, both tired and stressed out..

Your lips were mere inches away from his own and you could’ve kissed him if you really wanted to, and maybe, maybe you did want to kiss him—

No, that was the tense air speaking.

Just improvise.

“Mhm, this is exactly what I wanted…” you whisper, giving his tie one last tug till your foreheads were touching, “But I’m sure your hand can make-do in better places, don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, and you almost miss it, but it was enough of a sign to let you know he wasn’t expecting you to keep up. It wasn’t a problem for him though, the man was just as stubborn and prideful as you were, there was absolutely no way in hell he was gonna back down.

Not until you do.

“And what about yours, Y/N?” he challenges, eyes briefly peering down at your hand still gripping on the end of his tie, “I bet you’re really skilled with your hands, aren’t you?”

The real fun begins when the hand that was once resting against your cheek, drops a little lower, making home over the dip of your neck and Jungkook could feel your skin burn under his palm.

Your heart was racing as you discreetly pondered what he meant by that and once you clocked on, your body had stiffened, but you needed to seem unfazed, “Of course I am, probably more skilled than you at this point,” you shrug, gesturing towards his hand near your neck.

If he had the balls, he’d touch you somewhere more scandalous.

“Oh, is that right? You wanna bring my hands further down then, Y/N?”

Jungkook was testing you and your patience. If he thought you were gonna pussy out, he was wrong.

Your left hand grabs onto his wrist, right hand landing flat against his chest as you pushed him back against the sofa, and without even thinking of your next move, you impulsively make home on Jungkook’s lap, straddling his thighs as you adjust yourself on top of him. He watched on, slightly shocked and a little amused at the lengths you were going through just to prove a point.

With your hand wrapped around his wrist, you drag his hand down your body, slowly reaching your chest and stopping, “How about this?” you whisper, your voice on the verge of the faltering.

“Could be better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his blazer off his body, leaving it elsewhere and going back to his previous position, “Try this…”

He begins to pull his tie off around his collar, leaving it beside him for later use and then reaching up to unbutton his white dress shirt until hints of skin peeked through, “It’ll be better if you touch me yourself, but I’m sure you already know that since you’re so ‘skilled,” he says, his hands resting over your hips.

How long was Jungkook gonna keep this up? You were running out of ideas and though this was all a game, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit turned on, but how couldn’t you? You were sitting on his lap, your near-skintight skirt rolling up your thighs and you were almost certain he could feel the slight throbbing between your legs.

With one hand placed on his shoulder, the other reaching down to slip your hand past his shirt, your palms making direct contact with his built chest, God, you’re all talk,” you roll your eyes, leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?”

Jungkook throws his head back, eliciting a low chuckle, eyes meeting yours again as his palms made home on your thighs, squeezing your flesh enough to warm himself up, “If we continue, this won't be a game anymore…” he trails off, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the growing pain of his hardening cock under his slacks, “I won't be able to stop,” he continues, knowing inside he wanted this too, but was more than willing to back off if you seriously didn’t wanna do this, “Is this what you want?”

Fuck, of course you wanted this. Your body needed an output, some kind of relief. Just this once, you were willing to set aside your differences for what, ten minutes of quick relief?

You adjust yourself on his lap, your lace-clad cunt snug above his growing erection and you could've sworn you almost moaned at the contact. "Can you feel that?” you whisper, referring to the throbbing between your legs. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"

"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook nearly groans at the closeness. If he continued this game, he would cross a line that would be hard to come back from, and he was willing and ready to deal with the consequences to come.

With one swift move, he rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to the side to make room for his lips to attach to your neck, gently sucking and biting along your untainted neck didn't whilst he kept you distracted by the new sudden feeling of his large hands rocking your hips back and forth over his erection.

You elicit a soft sigh, eyes coming to a gentle shut as you basked in the soft pleasure, your soaked-through panties bound to leave a mark of your mess on top of him.

Jungkook pulls away from your neck, leaning back to admire your state; your cheeks were flushed pink, hair a little messy and a sheer layer of sweat adorning your chest, resulting in your blouse sticking to your body and arched a brow at you, “Take the shirt off for me, will you?”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, unbuttoning your mesh blouse with your eyes solely focused on him, and it seemed Jungkook had the same plan to just stare you down as you pulled the material off your shoulders, your well hidden assets finally coming in to view and Jungkook’s breath had hitched in his throat.

He didn’t know what came over him, or if he was just high in the moment, but you looked absolutely unreal; a simple yet stunning black lace bralette over your chest, your cleavage on full show and and it was everything he’d imagined. He inhales sharply, resisting the urge to just grab you, but Jungkook was a man of class (sometimes).

He gestured for you to remove the bralette and you did, hands reaching for your back to unclasp everything and let the material fall to your lap, freeing your tits right in front of his face and he was impulsively leaning in, briefly flicking his tongue over your hardened nipples before pulling away just to leave a ruthless smack over the expanse of your tits, revelling in the way your skin would redden and how your body would jump on top of him.

If he was feeling nice, he’d give in to you, give you exactly what you wanted, but to be frank, he wasn’t in a nice mood. He didn’t know if he hated you the way he did before all of this but God, was he gonna give you a piece of his mind..

Jungkook briefly slips his hand under your skirt and reaching between your legs, eager to feel just how soaked you were through your panties and boy, he was not disappointed.

Just mere talking and subtle teasing got you this riled up?

Clearly yes, your thighs were shuddering between his hand and you were almost embarrassed to be sitting where you were right now, “What are you waiting for?” you huff, frustration evident in your tone as you pulled yourself up to slip off your panties.

“I’m waiting for you to beg.”

“I’m not begging you—”

As soon as your panties were off, Jungkook was immediately pulling you back down onto his lap, now getting a real feel of your slick dampening his dress pants, “You’ll beg me, otherwise we can just wrap this up and call it a day…” he trails off, firmly gripping your hips as he pressed you down harder on his hardening cock, forcing a quiet moan to slip past your lips.

“Come on, Y/N… you know what you want, just tell me,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours and drinking in the irritation in them.

God, he loved irritating you.

Giving in just this once wouldn't hurt you, but you weren’t exactly the begging type of person, “I need your hands…” you manage to muster, your poor cunt practically leaking over his slacks.

“That’s not how you ask nicely,” Jungkook taunts you, throwing in a disappointed sigh, “Enlighten me, will you? How bad do you want them?” He leans back against the sofa, his hands rolling the hem of your skirt up over your thighs so he could have a clear cut view of your pussy, swallowing sharply once his eyes catch a glint of your flesh shining under the dim lights.

"Fuck you.." you grit. Jungkook stating the obvious was embarrassing for you; who would've thought Jeon Jungkook would be the reason for your desperation.

You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was enjoying tormenting you, and today was not gonna be the day you beg for him; you had far too much pride for that.

Instead of using your words, you grab ahold of his hand, guiding it down your body and between your legs. Once the pad of his fingers were against your clit, you wasted no time in rocking your hips against them. "I— I want your fingers inside me," you whisper against his ear, hoping he’d cut you some slack.

"Oh Y/N..." Jungkook shook his head disapprovingly. He quickly pulls his hands away to fetch his tie laying next to him on the couch.

You knew exactly where he was going with this and you were right; he’d grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your lower back, using his black tie to restrain your hands, and all you could do was shuffle on top of him, “I’d be careful when moving, wouldn’t want you to fall back,” he taunts you, a grin plastering his face as he pulled on the restraints one last time.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a minute to get used to the tie, his hand making home between your legs once again as he moved the pad of his fingers up and down against your swollen clit agonisingly slow, “Don’t you know your manners, Y/N? What happened to saying ‘please’ when you want something?”

You were falling apart on top of him, your hands clawing at nothing as you tried to remain composed. You felt absolutely hopeless, and giving in didn’t seem so bad right about now.

“I fucking hate you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, grinding yourself against his fingers seeing as his lace was too slow for your own liking, “Please, Jungkook…” it physically hurt you to say those words, feeling your cheeks swell up in embarrassment, “I wanna fuck myself on your fingers…”

Most certainly pleased by your answer, he doesn't waste any time, thrusting his index and middle finger into you so fast, a gasp was ripped from your throat. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Only a real slut would beg to get fucked by a guy she hates.”

His hands began to push in and out carefully, admiring your eventual fucked out state, "Fuck yourself on them, pretty," Jungkook instructs, gradually speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. "Or do you want me to curl them?"

It was a rhetorical question, already feeling him curl his fingers between your soft walls as you helplessly clenched around him.

It felt so good.

It was unfortunate your body was close to giving in, struggling to stay up on top of him but you tried to muster as much strength as you could to keep going, drowning Jungkook's digits in your slick as your hips moved up and down on his fingers at a similar pace to his wrist, “Jeon, I can’t..

"Oh? But you can argue with me, call me names, and make a fool of me in front of my colleagues?" Jungkook taunts, speeding up his fingers to a torturous fast pace that was sure to bring you closer to your high. "You can do all of that, but you can't fuck yourself on my fingers? What a pathetic bitch.”

He reaches behind you to untie the restraints binding your wrists together, letting the material drop to the floor behind you before he was picking you up and carrying you over to your desk, setting you down on the surface and pushing you to lie back ever so slightly as he dropped to his knees between your legs.

He split your legs apart, audibly groaning at the sight of your swollen pussy; clit peeking out and your tight hole desperately clenching around nothing. “Fuck… Look at that desperate pussy..” he mumbles to himself, fixing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cunt.

A content sigh left fell from your lips as he used the tip of his tongue to toy with your sensitive bud, causing your thighs to shake around his head. The repetitive movement had your body tensing and the moans you’d been keeping to a minimum now at the max.

“So— so good..” you whimper, gazing down at him. With your hands free, they moved to grab at his dark locks, shoving his head further between your legs till you could feel his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit and good god, Jungkook would go to hell and back to drown in your pussy for eternity.

He let out a muffled groan, sliding his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit like his life depended on it, but he needed to pull away if he wanted to live to experience that.

When Jungkook pulled away, you whined, but he wasn’t gone for long, suddenly delivering a harsh slap to your cunt that made your body jump and left your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It stung, but it felt so fucking good.

Pleased by your reaction, he did it again, this time only harder, “Oh, so Miss Lawyer likes getting her slutty pussy slapped?”

Before you could even respond, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip, not wasting another second before he’d spat right over your aching cunt, forcing you to arch your back off the desk as he watched the bead of spit trail between your folds in awe.

He leaned in again, shoving his tongue into your aching cunt and feeling your walls clench around the wet muscle almost as if you didn’t wanna let go and he found it beyond amusing, pulling away almost immediately just to spite you as he stood up to tower over your body; mouth glistening from all the slick and you couldn’t deny he looked like a hot mess.

What you didn’t see coming, was Jungkook grabbing your face, slapping you one as he squished your cheeks within his hold, forcing your lips to pucker as he spat into your mouth, the mixture of his saliva and your slick seeping down your throat as you swallowed with no hesitation.

He chuckled deeply, “Should’ve known an A class whore like yourself was into this shit. What do you think the jury would think about that, huh?” He continues to tug on your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him so he could watch you break down before him.

Jungkook pulls you up and off the desk, standing tall and confident in front of you as you tried to regain a steady composure, almost stumbling.

“I don’t know how they’d feel knowing the slutty prosecutor got on her knees for the heir of this firm,” he starts, reaching out to wrap his hand around your neck firmly and pulling you towards him, “We should risk it and find out, huh?” he breathes out against your lips, low and hoarse and you had to squeeze your thighs shut from the flutters you were feeling between your legs.

“I’d rather throw dirt in my eyes than suck your dick,” you spit, shamelessly lying through your teeth and Jungkook immediately knew you were playing games.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands shift from your neck to the back of your head, gripping a hand full of your hair and urging you to get on your knees and you did exactly that, making it easy for him to get you down as you tried your best to conceal the knowing smile growing on your lips but all you did was lick your lips up at him, anticipation clouding your eyes as you gulped.

The subtle action alone had his dick jumping in his slacks and he refused to wait any longer before unbuckling his belt and pulling pants halfway down his thighs, leaving a thick and oblivious imprint of his cock straining against his boxers right in front of your face.

You didn’t realise it, but your body was inching towards him and Jungkook took notice straight away, doing you the favour of pulling his cock out from its confines to stand tall and hard before you.

You were meaning to reach out for him, but he beat you to it, wrapping a strong hand around the base of his cock as he pumped himself between his fist a couple times, squinting at the little bead of precum eventually dripping down the base of his cock and you could only stare on in awe.

“You want my cock down your throat, huh?” he taunts deeply, moving forwards so he could guide the tip of his leaking cock across your face, nudging your cheek and avoiding all contact with your mouth.

Right where you wanted him most.

“Say it,” he lightly slaps the tip of his dick against your cheek, dragging it down to your lips but not yet pushing in, “Say you’re a cock-hungry bitch who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much…”

Submission was never your thing. You always showed yourself out to be a woman who always stood her ground, never taking shit from anyone. But now it was your worst enemy, proving you wrong on all of the above.

“I’m a cock-hungry bitch..” your words are there, but no confidence within them, “Who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much,” you mumble against the tip of his dick, hoping he’d give in to you.

Jungkook shrugs, “Could be better, but what more do I expect from a whore?” He suddenly pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, taking you by surprise as he groaned deeply, basking in the warmth of your mouth as he slowly eased himself into you inch by inch until he completely bottomed out.

You couldn’t handle his immense size, already struggling to breathe and he hadn’t even moved yet and tears were brimming your eyes.

“Tight fucking fit…” he seethes, slowly pulling out only to slam back into your mouth with brute force, each thrust pushing against the back of your throat and though you started choking, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You didn’t want him to stop; allowing him to use your head as assistance.

“Fucking made for my cock, aren’t you? A perfect fit..”

The only sounds that could be heard were Jungkook’s groans and the illicit sounds of your gagging and spluttering, a mixture of spit and precum leaking out the sides of your mouth.

"Gonna make better use of your pretty mouth.. and dumb you up so you'll never be able to throw all that fucking attitude at me again.." With no prep whatsoever, he impales your throat again, this time keeping your head at the very base of his cock, your nose brushing against his abdomen as your throat clenched around him, squeezing tightly to the point you could feel him throb.

“If this is the only way to shut you up, I’ll have you on your knees more often,” he looks down at you, watching the woman who stood so high on her fucking imaginary pedestal, now kneeling between his legs with her mouth stuffed full of his cock like a needy bitch.

Jungkook was damn near certain he almost came from the sight of you alone so he suddenly pulled you away from him, a thick and heavy string of precum connecting your lips to him leaving you a gasping, teary eyed, heaving mess.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you grumble, slightly annoyed by the sudden withdrawal as you hastily stood onto your feet.

“Oh, Y/N.. What am I gonna do with you?” he questions, sarcasm lacing his voice as he took a couple steps towards you just to grab your arm and turn you around; pushing you down front first against the glass surface of his desk.

You could barely make out what he was about to do, the side of your face pressed up against the glass but God, he was so close behind you, you couldn’t help but push back against him a little, whimpering at the sliver of skin-on-skin contact with him and Jungkook was all for your eagerness.

He spits against the palm of his hand, using the heel of his palm to reach down between your legs and massage your weeping cunt, briefly letting his digits dip into you before replacing them with his cock.

At last.

“Oh— fuck.. Jeon—!” You’re more vocal now than you were ever before, his size deeming you absolutely vulnerable as he pushed into you slowly. The stretch was beyond humane, he was practically splitting you open and your tears were suddenly making another appearance.

Jungkook felt like he was going through the seven stages of grief; not expecting you to be so tight around him and already so addicting, it was like a revelation for him.

“Pussy made just for me..” he groans, a palm aiming to land a harsh smack against your ass cheek, making you jump and the ongoing stinging sensation turning the affected area a light shade of pink which was bound to darken overtime. “All fucking mine—” he grits harshly squeezing the flesh of your ass as he continued to thrust in and out of your sopping cunt, “Fuck, look at your tight pussy just sucking me in… bet you like me shoving into your cunt, huh?”

“Uhghhh yes, yes! I love it so much!”

You loved the pain.

Each powerful thrust caused your body to repeatedly shift against your desk, again and again his dick slamming so deep into your guts you wondered if it were even possible to experience such a thing.

You could tell he was giving you his all; his muscles were tense, every vein in his body was popping out just so he could take out his frustrations on you. He dealt with your ass for three years; constant bickering, competitions, insults, but fuck him, if he knew you what got you going, he’d have fucked you way sooner.

“Bet you wished I’d come in and fuck you at some point, huh?” A smirk was lingering over his features, knowing well what your answer was.

“God— yes!” Your back forcibly arches against your will as you nod desperately.

Truth be told, you did look forward to his visits in your office just to argue with you. Arguing with an attractive man who looked even hotter when he was mad?

Of course.

“And everytime I’d leave your office, you’d sit in your chair with a wet fucking pussy all day, hoping I’d come back in just to fuck you, right? But God, why didn’t I do that?” he mentally curses himself, digging his fingers into your hips as his pace faltered, indicating he was losing traction.

“Fuck you for not making a move,” you hiss through tears, gripping at the edge of your desk for stability as his thrusts became sloppy and messy.

He lands another harsh smack against your ass, making you help in surprise, “Shut the fuck up, I’m not done,” he seethes, picking up the pace and knocking all other backtalk out of your lungs, "Every damn day, I've had to deal with your shit; talking down on me—" his words laced with anger as he slams in to you, "—flaunting your stupid awards in my face and walking around like you own the fucking place."

He abruptly pulls out, turning you over to lay back on the desk whilst he spread your legs apart, his cock slipping into you once more as his free hand settled a harsh slap against your tits, “Now I have you under me, crying on my cock like a little bitch. Where'd that confidence go, huh?"

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, to busy doing exactly as he’d stated. Your mind was hazy and your body was going numb, all you were capable of was squeezing your walls tightly around his cock as a sign to say you were close.

“Oh you’re close, huh?” Jungkook brings his hand down to scoop up the stringy mess connecting both your bodies, “We can’t have security walk in, can we?” lifting his hand again to shove three slick coated digits into your mouth in a bid to silence your moans as you came. “Come all over my cock like you were born for it.”

And thank god he did what he did because your pleasure filled cries would have woken up the entire city.

Your tongue lapped at his fingers, sucking off whatever was there before he pulled them out of your mouth, admiring the way they glistened under the dim lights.

You stared up at him in a daze, chest heaving and tits bruised red as he thrusted back and forth a couple more times before finally reaching his orgasm with a low bellow.

“Fuck…” he groans to himself and you could feel his warmth completely fill you up, some of it too much to the point white was leaking out of your sensitive cunt as he drained himself empty into you.

Once Jungkook was certain he was done, he slowly pulled out, his cock falling limp and his mess now prominent between your legs, noticing it was all slipping out so he did you the duty of using his fingers to push as much as he could back into you, the sensitivity making you shudder, “Can’t let it go to waste,” he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to his lips to sneak a taste.

It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen and he was pulling you to sit up on the desk before grabbing your case with both hands and kissing you with all his might.

It was unexpected but you were too in the moment to stop him. You could just about make out the distinctive taste of yourself and him on your lips and all you were wondering was how the hell you’d both come back from this.

Jungkook bit down on your bottom lip, dragging it out towards him before letting go and watching the plumpness bounce back, red and swollen like he’d left his mark on you.

“What did we just do..?” you whisper, finally drinking in the state of yourself and the absolute state of your office, papers everywhere and the smell of sex surrounding you.

Jungkook didn’t know what came over him, but he needed to reassure you one thing; “This probably wasn’t ideal but I don’t regret it,” he says, eyes glued to yours and curious to know if you felt the same way.

You didn’t know if you felt the same way, but you certainly weren’t feeling bad about it.

“You don’t have to say anything now, or put a label on it or anything, you can take your time,” he tells you softly, pulling away from you to pull his pants back up and tuck himself away. He was unsure whether you wanted to be alone or wanted to stay in his presence, but he figured he’d do what was safest, “Want me to clean you up and walk you to your car?”

Your hands adjusted the skirt that had been rolled up your hips, pulling it down to shield your thighs and the mess as you shook your head, “Oh no, that’s okay, I can take it from here,” you reply, this time giving him a genuine smile for his chivalry, one he’d never actually seen on you before and he wished he could see it more often.

Jungkook nodded and went to collect his shirt by the sofa, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then for some case work.”

“Yeah, you too…”

He curtly nodded and headed out of your office with a sigh. He didn’t wanna leave you alone after that, but he wanted to avoid any intrusive/pushy questioning and awkwardness.

How the hell would you both ever come back from this?

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#sxtaep #the hating game #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #bts angst #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts drabble #bts fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook

[bobgasm]

good girl | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 3978 warnings: mild idiots to lovers, smut, nsfw [18+ only], unprotected sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk,

summary: in which you have a chat with bob that doesn’t go the way you intended it to, but he more than makes up for it

author’s note: happy birthday to my bby lewis! 🥳♥️ best to read the snappening first 🤭 if you want to be notified when i post, follow and turn on post notifications for @bobgasm-library 😁

the snappening | masterlist | awards season

You hate that your alarm is waking you at 5 am. You hate that you got super drunk last night. Mostly, you hate that you crossed a line with Bob. You didn’t know what the day held in store for you, but a chat about what happened was inevitable.

You groaned as you slid into the shower and tried to wash the disgusting feeling from your body.

The plan was simple. You’d arrive at work early and get settled for the day, then disappear to grab coffee once everyone had arrived. It meant that you could delay the chat with Bob temporarily, giving you time to stew over the situation instead of tackling it head on.

Yeah, this grown-up shit was so easy.

You got settled at your desk and grinned at the email that had been flagged. It was a mission briefing for Bob and Phoenix, so you stopped into your boss’ office to let him know. Haywire was a hard man to work for, but as his assistant, you made it work. 

Haywire appreciated the information – he hadn’t yet checked his computer, but he knew about the mission. As his assistant, you had a high security clearance, but more importantly, his trust. He relied on you to ask the questions a lot of people wouldn’t typically ask a superior, either out of nerves or fear. It was expected of you to sit in on mission briefings for that exact reason – Haywire liked his pilots to be well informed of any and all risks. 

This mission briefing wouldn’t be any different. As you left, he made the call to Phoenix and Bob, so you headed down the hall to prepare some coffee and try to gather your bearings. He wasn’t even here yet, but the memories of last night had your toes curling and heat warming your cheeks. 

Your heart roared in your ears as you looked up and saw Bob walking in through the doors. He gave you a polite nod and smile, but you weren’t even expecting that. You gave him a small smile back, taking in his appearance.

He wore his flight suit, and Phoenix fell into step beside him. You knew they likely had an early morning training scheduled, which had now been delayed by this new mission briefing. You stopped yourself before you got caught staring, but he smirked at you like he knew. Like he knew where your mind had drifted to, even if it was for a fleeting moment.

You held his gaze, refusing to back down, and watched them disappear into Haywire’s office. You collected a few mugs from the cupboard in anticipation of Haywire calling out for two more, already one step ahead of him. He caught sight of the four mugs lined up, met your eye, and quickly provided his help to carry them all back to the office before starting the briefing. 

You sat beside Haywire’s desk, legs crossed as you sipped your coffee and tried to avoid looking at Bob. It was inevitable though. By the time your eyes settled on his face, he was already looking at you. 

Your head was swimming as you replayed the videos from last night in your head. The sounds he made.

Good girl.

Fuck. You squeezed your legs together at the thought. The thought that he actually wanted you the way you wanted him, and that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. That you hadn’t just risked your livelihood for the sake of an orgasm.

You tried to focus on the mission briefing as Haywire talked, handing out folders to both Bob and Phoenix. They both wore stoic expressions, listening intently to what was needed of them. Haywire outlined the importance of their mission – recon only. They were going in with no backup which was risky, but the images they had of the site were dated. 

“Our next move will be to send a SEAL team in once we’ve got a better visual of the site,” Haywire proceeded. “Those men will be your backup.”

“But no air support,” you countered. “What if the site has grown and they’ve got an updated defense system? It’s a suicide mission.”

“It’s the mission,” Haywire replied.

“Would you take the same risk if you’d been given the mission instead?” You asked him. “Are you really willing to let two people be shot out of the sky and killed, or taken hostage? The SEAL team is only good if there’s hostages to rescue, but how long until they get the green light to move in? Assuming they’re still alive, of course, or would that be another recon mission determining that?”

Phoenix and Bob both shifted uncomfortably. You could only assume they’d been thinking along the same lines. 

The choice was simple, and Haywire made the correct one. He called his superior, Admiral Shaw, who’d sent down the mission briefing. Why he wasn’t present for it was a mystery, but Phoenix and Bob seemed a little less tense after hearing your words being repeated to someone who would actually go to bat for them. 

When Haywire ended the call by promptly slamming the phone home, you jumped a little. Startled by the dramatics. 

“They’ll get back to us with updates,” Haywire said. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenants.”

You stuck around in the office for a minute once Bob and Phoenix left, letting Haywire debrief you on what the plan was. Your questioning had brought up some very good points that needed addressing, and his superiors would figure it out. He thanked you and dismissed you, hoping it didn’t take them long to figure out the semantics of the briefing. 

“Why are you so jumpy today?” Phoenix asked you. You shot her a cautiative look as you waited for Bob to get far enough away. “Does it have something to do with Bob?”

You huffed. “You’re too observant for your own good,” you stated, dragging her down the hallway and pushing her inside an empty office. “I’m only telling you this because you have a secret of your own that you don’t want to get out.”

You paused as you watched her try to swallow the lump in her throat. Yeah, you knew she had a thing going on with Coyote. How you’d found that out was need to know. 

“I accidentally sent him a video of me masturbating last night. I was hoping to try and avoid him, but that’s not going so well,” you explained, pressing your hands into your eyes to try and quell the headache you were starting to develop. 

“Did he watch it?”

“Yes, and sent his own back,” you said, blowing out a deep breath. “I’m freaking out. I can’t avoid this conversation forever. I just…I don’t think it’s a conversation to be had before your mission, you know?”

You didn’t hold your breath. Even your own words sounded like lies to your ears. 

+++

By the time lunch came around, you were anxious. Heading to the dining hall on base to meet with Phoenix like usual, hoping she wouldn’t ask for any further information about the Bob situation. You planned on keeping it to the more important shit, like the mission they were going on. You even anticipated a question or two thrown your way, so prepared a couple to ask her instead. 

Thankfully, lunch was a standard affair. Phoenix sat with another couple of pilots who you knew and greeted warmly, making yourself comfortable at the table and engaging in friendly conversation.

Bob lingered off to the side of the cafeteria. You caught his eye and he nodded his head slightly, gesturing for you to follow him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stood up and followed him without a glance back at Phoenix or the other pilots. Trailing behind Bob with as much dignity as you could muster before steeling yourselves away in the privacy of an empty office.

“Hi,” he said sweetly. You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes, making him laugh. “Yeah, I know, but I never actually said it this morning and, truthfully, I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you all day.”

“Hi,” you replied, giving him a small smile. You couldn’t help it. Whenever he smiled you felt the need to reciprocate, even if it wasn’t aimed at you, but it was amazing when it was. “I’ve been doing the same, honestly. I don’t even know where to start.”

He nodded in understanding, resting back against the desk. Not quite sitting, but not quite standing either. Hands resting in his lap, with one ankle crossed over the other.

“I need you to hear what I’m not saying,” he told you. You nodded slowly in understanding. “I can’t do anything while we work together. I know how much you like your job here, just like I like mine. While there’s nothing to say that interpersonal relationships aren’t allowed, they’re not exactly welcomed unless you’re married.”

You hummed, once again nodding slowly. “So it’s business as normal, right?” You asked, following his train of thought.

“As normal as it gets around here,” he said.

You nodded. “Do you regret that it happened?”

“No, not at all. Do you?” You shook your head. “I’m not trying to make this awkward.”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing a good job of that myself,” you replied, earning a small chuckle. “I should…go. Lots to do today.”

“It doesn’t need to be like this.”

“It does, Bob,” you stated. “At least for now, anyway, because this isn’t exactly welcomed.”

He sighed as you slipped out of the office. You hadn’t meant to throw his words back at him, you knew his heart was in the right place, but he was only delaying the conversation further. Who knows what this week would have in store for you, but you just hoped that their mission went off without a hitch.

After lunch you went straight back to work, responding to some emails before you were dragged into a meeting with Haywire. You kept minutes while the men talked about other classified missions. You did your best to keep up with the chatter, but the conversation was hectic. Everyone spoke overtop of one another and you could barely register who said what. 

And then you started thinking about the situation with Bob.

Had you blown it, with your actions of the previous night and your passive aggressiveness towards him earlier? You knew he was only thinking of your job, and you did appreciate that. But you’d gotten yourself into this situation, too. You could decide how to play this out, you didn’t need to rely on him.

Yet you hadn’t said that to him when you had the chance. You hid behind your cowardice and let him decide how it was going to work. Let him call the shots, and for what? Because you were too scared to lose your job, or too scared to lose him?

The meeting dragged on, but you slipped out when a few of the men did the same, essentially ending the meeting. Lou kept you company as you typed up the minutes before disappearing into Haywire’s office. He’d apparently gotten a call about the new mission briefing that enlisted extra air support and a few extra contingency plans. In not so many words, all the Daggers were now being sent on this mission, which filled you with a lot more confidence. And, no doubt, did the same for Phoenix and Bob. 

You tried to finish up the email you’d been working on for Lou, but you had to ask him a question about it before you sent it. Sighing, you reached for your bottle of water and took a few sips, allowing yourself a moment to relax. 

It wasn’t long before all of the Daggers showed up and headed into Haywire’ office. He hadn’t asked you to sit in, so you stayed put until he called for you. 

You exhaled heavily and slumped back in your seat, wishing the day would just end already. When Haywire eventually called for you, you stood in the doorway since there were already six extra bodies in the room.

“The reason you’re all here is because of that woman there,” Haywire said. “She pointed out flaws in Bob and Phoenix’s mission, which has caused me more work today trying to get approval to send air support. This is where the rest of you come in.”

Haywire spent the next twenty minutes outlining the new mission parameters, as well as answering any questions the aviators had. 

“So we get to work with SEAL’s?” Hangman asked. 

You rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, noting how Bob stifled a laugh. 

“Not directly. The SEAL team is four days from the location. You’ll be moving out in two days at 1600 hours in order for them to be in position when you do your flyby.”

He continued to bring the rest of the team up to speed. Detailing exactly how this mission would be flown and everything they’d be needing to do. This was still very much Phoenix and Bob’s mission, but now they had support. They weren’t as nervous to fly this mission knowing they had immediate backup. 

You excused yourself before the meeting was over to take a phone call at your desk, explaining that you’d get Haywire to call them back when he was free. 

When Lou came back out, you picked his brain to finalise the email before sending it, then made a beeline to the bathroom. You didn’t need to go, not really, but you locked yourself in a stall and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. Hoping that by the time you made it back to your desk, the Daggers wouldn’t be in Haywire’s office anymore and you didn’t have to see Bob. 

You felt so frustrated by the situation you’d made for yourself. Frustrated that you’d let this happen. You took a few deep breaths before emerging, washing your hands just for a reason to stay in there a little bit longer. 

By the time you made it back to your desk, a few people had started to leave. They’d be back in the early hours of the morning, ready to make a start on whatever was needed before the carrier took off in the next few days.  

When the clock hit 5, you took Phoenix up on her offer of dinner and waited for her outside the barracks. Barely five minutes had passed before Bob was hollering your name down the hallway. 

You slowly turned around and saw him beckon you towards Coyote’s room. With a sigh, you walked down the hallway with as much confidence as you could muster.

“You told Phoenix?” He asked you. 

“Like she’s a saint here,” you replied, staring between her and Coyote.

“You told her?” Coyote asked in horror.

You were all in similar stages of distress and you felt backed into a corner. So you laughed. You laughed because how the hell had you all found yourself in similar situations? Bob soon joined in, and before you knew it, Phoenix and Coyote had too.

It was ridiculous. Of course it was. And it was awkward as hell, so you laughed your way out of it. Swiping at your eyes as the laughter died down and you were soon pinned beneath Bob’s gaze.

“Dinner tonight?” He asked. “Please say ‘yes.’”

“Yeah,” you agreed stupidly. “I’ve got a couple things to finish up but it shouldn’t take too long.”

“I’ll keep you company.” He grabbed his coffee before you both left, leaving Coyote and Phoenix to deal with their own mess. “Do you actually have much to do or was that just an excuse to get out of there?”

“I have shit to do but it can wait until tomorrow,” you told him, packing up your things you’d left outside Phoenix’s room. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a hole-in-the-wall Italian place not too far away,” he replied, digging his hand into his pocket. His keys jingled, and you gave a nod. “I’ll drive.”

You followed him outside, watching your feet rather than staring at his back like you wanted to. When you reached his car, you slid into the passenger seat. Swiftly buckling your seat belt as he did the same and turned the engine over.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he apologised. “About how I chose to handle things.”

“By passing the blame onto the fraternisation policy?” You asked, just to clarify. You turned your head enough to look at him, glad he at least looked ashamed about it.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “The truth is that I was trying to buy more time to figure out what I really wanted to say.”

“Have you figured that out now?”

“Yes,” he replied, letting silence wash over you.

“Okay? Are you going to share with the class or make me guess?”

He chuckled softly. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I want to hear you say it, Bob.”

Your heart thundered in your ears as he spoke, “I want you. I have for…god, too long now. I don’t even care if that initial video wasn’t intended for me, because you moaned my name as you came and it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

The car was parked in the back of a parking lot, away from the strip of restaurants to your left. You’d been too busy watching him, staring at him. Admiring the way his arms flexed as he rolled the steering wheel between his hands. The way his mouth moved as he talked…telling you everything you wanted to hear.

“It’s not the first time,” you confessed, voice low. So low he turned to look at you and you could see the lust clouding his vision. The way his eyelids drooped slightly as he took in your heady expression. “I imagine you every time.”

“Get in the back,” he told you, and you were quick to scramble into the back seat, over the centre console. He followed behind you, lifting you up with little effort and settling you down in his lap.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, and you placed your own on his chest. Feeling his heart racing beneath your touch. Because of your touch. Because of the implications of what was to come.

“Kiss me, Bob,” you requested, running your hands through his short hair. He leant forward and closed the gap, lips pressed firmly against yours.

You melted into his touch, kissing him back without hesitation. His fingers lifted your shirt, skimming up along your sides. You moaned at his light touch, goosebumps raising on your flesh. He bit down on your lip in response, feeling you shift against him.

He groaned as you tugged his hair. “You gonna be a good girl and ride me?”

You rolled your hips against him one more time, feeling his growing erection pressed against your core. 

“Fuck you for calling me ‘good girl,’” you said.

He chuckled, brushing some hair back from your face. “But you are,” he said softly, breathily. “And I want you to ride me.”

There was something about the way he looked at you so carnally, like an animal staring down its prey, that had you removing your shirt without a second thought. You wanted him so badly, in any way you could get him. You didn’t care you were currently both trying to undress in the back of his car, or that anyone could walk by at any time. 

Both of you in varying states of undress, Bob stroking his cock as you straddled his lap once again. Sliding his hand between your thighs, a breathy moan falling past your lips.

“So fucking wet for me, baby,” he said, pressing two thick fingers inside your heat. You groaned at the intrusion, hands gripping his shoulders as he worked you over. Making sure his fingers were nice and slick before wrapping them around his cock again and positioning his tip at your entrance.

He gripped your hips as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. He bit his lip, eyes glued to where the two of you were connected. You whimpered at the angle, at the feeling of him finally inside you after years of fantasising.

“So deep,” you panted. “Fuck, Bob.”

He groaned as you rolled your hips, cunt clenching around him. “Knew you’d be so tight…so fucking wet. Feels like heaven, baby.”

You gasped as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, over the top of your bra. Hands wound into his hair as you rocked your hips, lifting and sinking rhythmically.

His teeth grazed against the taut nub he was suckling on before paying the same attention to your other breast. You gasped and threw your head back, scratching your nails against his scalp.

He moaned, the vibrations coursing through your body. Your hips rocked a little harder against him, gasping at the tightness in your lower abdomen. He watched you lower your hand between your bodies, two fingers circling your clit and bringing you that much closer to your high.

“I didn’t say you could cum, baby girl,” he warned you.

“Please, Bob!” You whined. He gripped your ass, holding you up and refusing to let you keep going. “Fuck, please.”

“Please what?” He asked you. You pressed your forehead to his, a whimper falling past your lips.

“Please…wanna cum on your cock,” you begged. “Thought you wanted to feel me come undone around your cock, Bobby?”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I do. But if you cum like this I’m not gonna be able to pull out.”

“So don’t,” you told him, taking his face between your hands. “Wanna feel you finish inside me, Bob.”

He kissed you roughly, teeth clashing as his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned as his fingertips dug into your hips, his own snapping up as he fucked you.

You tugged at his hair, or pawed at his chest. So close to your orgasm, wanting to touch yourself. Wanting to tease your clit until you came all over his cock. Until he had you chanting his name and memorising the way he felt inside you. The way he made you feel. 

The way you wanted him to continue making you feel, even when things went back to normal. Especially then. 

“Fuck yes, squeeze my cock just like that,” he goaded, head thrown back as your cunt tightened and your body started quivering. “Feels so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight.”

“I wanna cum, Bob,” you pleaded. “Wanna cum all over your cock. Wanna feel you filling me up.”

He grunted, thrusts becoming harsher. His hand smacking your ass roughly as you matched his pace. You slipped your hand between your bodies once again, toying with your clit. Winding that coil so tight within your abdomen that you didn’t realise you were cumming until you collapsed into him. His hips thrusting upwards, grunting once, twice, three times before he stilled. Holding you close as he came undone inside you.

You wanted to stay wrapped in him forever, but your body felt like jelly and he was still talking to you.

“Such a good girl riding me, baby,” he said, lightly stroking your back. “Knew you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock. Such a pretty little thing, fucking hell.”

You hummed, lips pressed against his neck. Feeling his pulse beating rapidly against your mouth, chests flush together and bodies still connected.

“You feel so good, Bob, so right,” you told him, drunk off the post-coital euphoria. “Don’t want this to end. Don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised you. You lifted your head to look at him and he smoothed your hair back from your face. “I wanna take you home. Can I take you home?”

“Yeah, take me home.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #international bob floyd fucks month #ibff #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut

[jenosbigtoe]

i for one would love to see alpha jaem😁

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: superior!alpha!na jaemin x office worker!omega!reader

warnings: office au, abo, jealousy, reader is kinda bratty, fingering, tummy bulge, unprotected sex, creampie

you seriously wanted to throw your entire desktop at her stupid fucking head.

she was the new hire, an omega intern being trained by your superior, alpha na jaemin. she’d only been here for 3 weeks but she was already trying to sink her claws into your alpha. well, he wasn’t officially your alpha but everyone in the office knew the special bond you held with him. and she was sure as hell intent on getting in between that.

he was your superior but he always treated you so special, like you were really his omega. he brought you a coffee and muffin every morning from that coffee shop he knew you loved so much. he walked you to your car every evening, no matter how much longer he had to stay when you were working overtime. and he always spent his lunch breaks with you, sharing his homecooked meals when he felt you didn’t bring enough food for yourself.

you never progressed past more-than-friendly hugs after work or the light hand holding every so often with him but everyone knew he was your alpha. he was still courting you and you were basking in the attention.

until this bitch showed up and stole away all his attention.

it was bearable at first. she would have some sort of dilemma and he wouldn’t be able to eat lunch with you that day because he had to help her. he’d apologize profusely when he had to use his lunch break to go help her with whatever problem she was having that day. you would give him a reassuring smile and rub his back as you told him it was perfectly fine for him to do his job and not worry about you. or she would have to stay after hours because she needed help with a project and jaemin would have to stay with her to show her what to do.

but then she started being all touchy feely with him. with your alpha. she’d call him over to her desk for whatever reason and grab onto his arms as he stood over her desk. she would bring extra lunches “accidentally” and give him the extra lunch she brought, jaemin being too nice to decline. she would bat her stupid fucking eyelashes at him and beg him to do this and do that for her, all while you watched with a murderous look on your face.

she wasn’t stupid. she knew what relationship you had with jaemin. but she wanted him too and was going to milk all the attention she got from him, while rubbing it in your face in the process. sly smirks and pointed looks in your direction when jaemin would come running over to her whenever she had a problem.

jaemin was so busy with training her and doing his other responsibilities as a superior, he barely had any time to spend with you. and you were not happy with that. you could only take so many “sorry, y/n but she-“ before you would lose your mind.

so you coped with the lack of attention from your alpha the best way you knew how—by ignoring him back.

“hey, y/n i got your favorite,” jaemin gave you one of his signature grins and held up a coffee and muffin for you.

you pretended to not see him and brushed past, leaving him to stare in confusion at your passing body.

“y/n, let’s eat lunch together. i made that dish you always love.” he cornered you into a wall to prevent you from escaping again.

you gave him a sour expression and sighed exasperatedly. “no thanks.”

jaemin was so confused. he knows he’s been so busy for the past few weeks but did he do something wrong? why did it seem like you’re upset with him? he missed hanging out with you.

the next day, he tried going over to your cubicle to find out what he did wrong but right as he approached your desk, he was stopped by the intern.

“oh jaemin!! perfect timing i need your help with this document,” she barreled into him and grabbed his arm to yank him away.

jaemin stuttered in protest but she was too determined to get the alpha away from you. you watched that whole interaction and rolled your eyes, a deep frown marring your face.

who needed that stupid alpha anyways, you grumbled to yourself. it’s obvious he’s found his new omega plaything. he doesn’t need me anymore.

and it went like this for the next couple weeks. he would try to talk to you like normal but you would ignore him or find an excuse get away while the stupid intern took him away. you didn’t want to let your heart be vulnerable anymore for this alpha.

he was getting tired of the lack of attention from you. he missed his omega. jaemin didn’t like the cold shoulder you giving him. he knew he’d been so busy lately and you were probably feeling neglected. but now the intern’s training period was finally over so he could finally direct all his attention back to you. right before you were set to clock out, he called you into his office.

you stomped in with an irritated look. “what?” you snapped. “i’m ready to go home, mr. na.”

he raised an eyebrow at your attitude. he leaned forward in his desk. “mr. na?”

the frown on your face deepened. “yes, that’s your name right?”

“baby, you know you don’t call me that. especially when we’re in private.” he got up from his desk chair and walked around to stand closer to you.

you inched away slightly, an action he did not miss. “what do you need, mr. na?” you emphasized the formality.

he crossed his arms over his chest. “i want to know why you’ve been upset with me.”

you sighed and looked anywhere but at him. “can i leave, if it’s not an important issue?”

he walked over to stand just inches away from your body. even in heels he towered over you. you looked up to see his concerned form. “is my omega being upset with me not an important issue?”

you stared hard into his face, eyebrows wrinkled and eyes alight with stubbornness. “your omega? since when?”

“since i’ve been courting you.”

your heart was pounding in your chest. “what are you talking about? i’m not your omega. you’re crazy.”

you started to turn away from him to walk towards the door but he was quick to grab your arm and pull your body against his, trapping you in with his strength. you tried to break from his grasp, wriggling and beating at his chest, but he easily overpowered you. your legs turned to jelly at the contact.

“let me fucking go! stupid alpha get away from me!” you grunted in frustration. it was useless, he was too strong.

“oh you know exactly what i’m talking about, omega. just because i’ve been busy for the past few weeks you want to ignore your alpha? act like you’re brand new?” you could feel the red hot anger start to radiate off of him. you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

“fuck,” you whispered to yourself. then you straightened yourself out in his arms and jut your chin out defiantly. “so now you want to act like i’m your omega? when you’ve been prancing around with your new toy for weeks, ignoring me and all we used to do together to be with that new omega bitch?” your eyes watered at your outburst but you stood your ground.

jaemin held you firm against his body, grabbing your chin to force you to look into his eyes. “so that’s what this brattiness is about, huh. you’re jealous?”

you attempted to kick him in the groin and make your escape but he stopped your leg with his. “not fucking jealous! let me go you stupid fucking alpha! i can report you for this!”

jaemin chuckled lowly. “silly omega. i can see right through you.” he used one arm to keep your struggling body pressed against his while his other snaked down to cup your warm cunt. “i’ve been a bad alpha, neglecting my omega. letting her think i wanted someone else. when all i could ever want is right here.”

you stopped fighting against his grip, gasping at the feeling of his big hand on your achy cunt. you whined, lightly bucking your hips against his hand. “oh fuck,” you whimpered.

he caught you in a deep kiss, shutting you up real quick. sucking on your lip and sticking his tongue in your mouth. you whined against his mouth and started to grind against his hand. his fingers crawled up your skirt and pushed past your panties, teasing your wet folds and sliding past your dripping hole.

he broke contact to leave kisses up and down your jaw, fingers rubbing up and down your dripping cunt. “aw, what happened to my fiesty omega now?”

you whimpered. his fingers kept playing with your pussy and left you needing more and more. “stop teasing, jaem.”

he grinned widely at your words. his fingers pushed past your folds. you groaned. he started pumping his fingers in and out of your dripping hole and rubbing up against your sweet spot, slowly increasing his speed.

“ahhhh, alpha!” you whined out.

he suddenly removed his fingers from your hot cunt to stick them in his mouth, licking and sucking on your juices lewdly. you protested at the lack of contact but he quickly shushed you with a hot kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

he unbuckled his slacks and pulled down his boxers to reveal his achy cock, so big and red and veiny and ready to be sheathed inside your warm cunt. you attempted to reach down to stroke him off but he stopped you, lifting you up by the ass and placing you on his desk.

“baby, as much as i would love to let you stroke my cock, if i’m not balls deep in that pussy within the next 10 seconds i might explode.” he spread your legs and placed them on his shoulders. he used his cock to rub against your dripping pussy and gather your juices to spread up and down his length before lining the tip up with your entrance.

he bottomed out with one deep thrust and paused, heavy balls touching your ass. you both groaned at the sudden feeling. “oh fuck, baby you’re so fucking tight,” he moaned, gripping your waist tight to prevent you from squirming away. “my perfect omega, made just for this cock.”

he started pounding his hips impossibly fast against yours. your pussy clenched and spasmed around his fat cock dragging against your walls. arousal was dripping down your thighs and onto the desk below as lewd noises filled the tiny office with sex. “oh my god, alpha!! please, harder!” you cried, wriggling around and scratching at his back desperately.

“my omega. mine,” he grunted from above. it felt like he was trying to break you in half from his fat cock’s deep hard thrusts into your tiny pussy. “say you’re mine. say you’re my omega,” he accented his words his a particularly sharp thrust into your cunt, cock so deep his tip kissed your cervix.

you were quickly melting in a pool of putty underneath him, losing your mind from pleasure. “ahhh, alpha! yes, yes, yes!”

if possible, he went even harder with his thrusts. his cock was driving so deep inside he pressed a hand against your lower belly. “feel that, omega? that’s your alpha, deep in your guts. claiming your pussy for his.”

he grabbed one of your hands to place against your tummy and feel where his cock bulged out. you could feel every thrust, every time he bottomed out, all of it.

“say. it. say you’re mine, omega.”

“oh god, i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours!! alpha, i’m your omega, please oh god,” you were shaking like a leaf, tears welling up and rolling down your face. you buried your head into his chest, inhaling his deep intoxicating scent. this was your alpha making you his.

when you left the office that night, hot cum dripped down your legs. panties were missing. you had a strange limp. hair wild. neck littered with marks. and a smirking alpha wrapped around your shoulders.

a/n: i was halfway done with this but lost motivation conveniently when i told everyone it was coming soon☠️mb

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #jaemin

[builtbybrokenbells]

It’s Never Over

A blowout resulting in an untimely breakup between y/n and her long term boyfriend leaves both of them broken. A year and a half later, after nothing but radio silence and unrequited love, they find themselves face to face once more. Both grown up, living completely different lives, but still hurting over mistakes their younger selves made, and still hopelessly head over heels for each other. They find themselves caught up in the struggle of choice; to allow history to repeat itself, or let the memory of their past fade away into nothing.

listen while reading: lover, you should’ve come over - Jeff Buckley

Pairing: josh kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 17.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, sweet soft makeup sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise, pet names, body worshiping ig if you squint, breakups/breakup talk, angst (with a happy ending 😁), mentions of drugs, drinking, sad josh (needs a warning of its own), crying, some yelling, sweetness, tooth rotting fluff, sorry if I miss any!!!

so somebody requested some josh angst and i just couldn’t help myself 🤭 a very happy ending, pinky promise. you guys know me well enough to know I’m a slut for happy endings. also sorry it turned out so long, i HAVE to stop it with the literal novels. i just got super attached to the characters and got carried away (what else is new). i also wrote this mostly in one sitting so I had to trim a lot and add things here and there, but i hope this is satisfactory!! also not fantastically edited, cause I’m super lazy 🫣 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

The silk of your dress clung to your skin, the slit in the leg just promiscuous enough to catch eyes, but not enough to be uncomfortably exposed. The deep emerald green was elegant, a fantastic choice on your part. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, the scent of your perfume radiating around you. You were dressed to the nines, much like the other women pooling into the lobby of the five-star hotel. Even so, you had never felt more out of place. As you anxiously awaited the progression to the main event, you couldn’t help but check over your shoulders every few minutes. You were hoping to catch sight of any familiar faces before they saw you, in hopes of a head start to hide away. You straightened your hair out and fixed the straps of your dress, trying to pass a few more minutes without focusing on your nervousness.

It was your first time back in Nashville after a year and a half of avoiding it. You’d moved to New York some time ago and hadn’t looked back since. Your hometown was greatly missed, but for no reasons that were obvious. You didn’t miss your family; you shared phone calls and texts, which was perfectly fine for you. They’d always been a bit hard on the head, raving about appearance and sophistication rather than fun and happiness, so the distance wasn’t terribly troublesome. Your siblings were scattered across the world, anyway, so the change in location really had no effect on the relationships you previously had with them. The town itself wasn’t troublesome to leave behind, either. You had gotten your fill of it in your first twenty-some years of life, and it was quite refreshing to get out into the world and see something new.

What you did miss, though, was the boy you left behind. Although, it wasn’t a choice to leave him; he’d made that decision for you, and without a hesitation, too. You never expected him to come with you while you followed your dream. It would be selfish to expect him to leave everything behind to chase you around the world. But, you did hope that there was a part of him that wanted to make it work despite the distance, like you’d done for him countless times. When you told him you had to go, that the move was something you desperately needed, all of the love he ever had for you seemed to disappear. He turned cold and distant, and ended things without a second thought.

“Please, Josh, just listen to me for one minute!” You begged, tears forming in your eyes. His usually joyous face was nothing short of indifferent towards you, now.

“I don’t have anything to talk about with you, y/n.” The words were equal to a stab to the chest. His eyes were looking anywhere but you, secretly afraid he’d break down and tell you everything he was holding back.

“You’re going to throw the last three years out the window over this? Without a compromise, or a conversation, or anything at all?” There was a few feet of space between you, both scared of breaking the invisible boundary.

“You’re leaving! You pack up all of your shit and move in with me, just to tell me a few months later that you’re moving across the country? You’ve known for a while, and you’re just telling me now?” He finally broke, the pain in his eyes clearer than anything you’d ever seen. The accusatory tone was infuriating, as if he was sentencing you with a crime you hadn’t committed.

“I haven’t known for a while, Josh. I just got the email today! I applied thinking there was no way in hell I would ever hear back, but I did, and I have to go. This is my dream, you know that. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” You pleaded for him to see reason.

“The only thing, huh?” You could tell the statement landed wrong, feeling guilty for even making him think that was what you meant. “I tell you all of the time you can come work with us, design for us; we’d be more than happy to have you there.”

“I can’t do that! I can’t always be in the background of your fame. I can’t backpack off of your success, live in the shadows of my boyfriend forever. I need to make a name for myself, to prove to everyone that I can do it on my own, without any handouts.” You explained. He nodded, barely responding to anything you had to say about it.

“That’s fine, y/n. Go, live your dream. I’m not stopping you.” He sounded defeated, like he was giving up.

“What about us?” You whispered, your voice hoarse from the hours of back-and-fourth yelling.

“Clearly you weren’t thinking about me when you made the decision, so why are you worried about it, now?” Your heart broke, the tears you were holding back finally falling down your cheeks. “You can go, but I’m not going to wait for you to come back.” Silence hung thick in the air, and for the first time in your long history, it was uncomfortable.

“So that’s it?” You snapped. “I can sit at home while you travel the world, wait for you to come home, not know if you’re sleeping with the millions of girls that throw themselves at you? That’s fine? But the minute I want to get out of here, escape the shitty 9-5 lifestyle and do something for myself, I’m the bad guy? I’m not asking you to drop everything and come with me, I’m just asking you to love me enough to support me while I do it!” You could see regret flash in his eyes, both of your emotions running high and clouding your judgement. When he remained silent, you got more than enough of an answer. “Okay,” you let out a small, humourless laugh. “I’ll get my shit, then. If this is how you want to go about it, fine by me. You’ll never have to see me again.” You turned towards the hallway, preparing yourself to pack up your entire life.

“Y/n,” he said, stopping you for a moment. “Just stay, please.” You could hear tears in his voice, too.

“So I can sit around and wait for you for the rest of my life?” Your voice cracked, effortlessly showing him all of the emotion you were trying not to let out. “I can’t put everything on pause because you don’t want me to go, Josh. I might never get a chance like this ever again. I don’t want to leave you, but this is my life. My dream.”

“I’m supposed to be a part of your life, too.”

“Not if you make me choose.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind?” The accusation fuelled a fire in you.

“I was hoping to have both, but I guess we can’t have everything we want.” He let out a long exhale.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He grumbled. “You’re leaving to chase after a possibility, y/n. You’re gonna move out there with no real offer lined up? You could get out there and end up at another shitty office job. Alone, away from everything you know. I’m here. I love you, and I’m certain about that.” Your stomach sank at his words, filled with dread knowing that he didn’t believe in you.

“You may be, but I’m not.” You scoffed. “If you love me, you’d support me. You know how bad I want this. You’re not being fair.” You waited for a moment, hoping he’d say something else. When you were met with another staggering silence, you stumbled away from him with your heart in your stomach and your head in your hands. You left your house key on the bed before walking away forever.

That was the last time you spoke to him. A few days after that, you got on a plane to New York and spent months trying to rid yourself of his memory. Now, over a year later, every essence of your being was still plagued with Josh Kiszka. You never got over him, you never moved on, and you never stopped thinking of him. He was the love of your life; the type of love that overshadowed any other emotion you could ever experience. Sure, you hated him, too, and a part of you hoped you’d never see him again, but there was a bigger part of you that longed for one more hug, or even just another smile. He was one of a kind, and nobody held a candle to him. He never texted, he never called, or even so much as liked a social media post. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d spend the rest of your life yearning for someone who barely remembered you existed.

As much as you still loved him, the hurt you held in your chest was debilitating. He let you walk out the door, no hint of hesitation. It killed you, because you’d spent years cheering him and his brothers on while they lived their dream, but he wasn’t willing to reciprocate for you. You hoped he would change his mind, but the only thing you’d received in your year away was radio silence. There was no solid proof that you ever existed to him aside from memory, and that’s what hurt you the most. You watched his life through pictures, his face gracing your phone screen with new press releases and album announcements, sending you spiralling down the Kiszka rabbit hole even further. You listened to their music every now and then, even watched a few interviews, just to remind yourself of what his voice sounded like. You were well aware that their new album was bound to release within the next few months. It served as another reminder of how great his life was going without you in it.

You hadn’t done too bad for yourself, either. The move to New York stemmed from a submission to be considered for a spot in New York Fashion Week. You’d applied as a model for the event, with slim expectations for a response. When they responded to your headshots, it kickstarted the fire in you to follow your passion. Once you arrived, you modelled and found that taste of life you’d been longing for so badly. You had the opportunity to meet big names you had been dreaming of meeting your whole life, and somehow even managed to pick up a mentor to help you achieve your biggest dream: design. After a few months of solely shadowing her, then a year of sleepless nights and some blood, sweat, and tears, you were finally set to release your own line of designer clothing. Of course, it was partnered with your mentor company, but it still adorned your name.

Most of your presale items were already sold out, giving you an overwhelming sense of pride. Big celebrities were in line to own your clothing, eager enough to buy it that they were ordering months ahead. As much as it hurt leaving everything behind when you moved to New York, your life was more than you ever could have imagined it, now. Still, with all of the financial success, a part of you still felt like it was missing. Somewhere amidst all of the fame, you realized that you may have given up a bit too much to get where you were. You tried not to focus on it, knowing that dwelling on the past would only limit you from the future. If Josh Kiszka was meant to be yours, he would be. If not, life would go on. You had to understand that, because if you believed anything else, you were sure it would kill you.

The crowd began to filter away in front of you, letting you know the doors to the event were opening. The cameras outside were still flashing, meaning guests were still arriving. You were thankful you had a room booked upstairs so you could avoid the paparazzi. As much as you loved your work, the galas and celebrations could be a bit much by times. You almost preferred the quietness of the design room over the runway, now. At first, the pictures and cheers and magazine covers were a thrill. They’d begun to lose their novelty almost as soon as it started, just the same as the parties. When your boss handed you a plane ticket a few days prior, you questioned why you were heading to Nashville. She’d wasted no time in telling you about the Gala you would be not only attending, but speaking at. Your stomach was sick at the idea. Some of it was due to the public speaking, but more so because Nashville was the last place you wanted to be. But, part of the job was to keep up appearances, so you had no choice but to oblige.

The question of Nashville in specific brought up a whole world of information. Apparently, the success of your line of clothing had caused some speculation of expansion. That morning, the company announced your own outlet store opening in your hometown. They thought it as a gift to you, but it was more of a nightmare. That meant a lot more time in Nashville, even permanently, for a while. Also, more appearances, and more of a chance to run into the boy you’d rather run away from. Still, your appreciation of the gesture was unmatched; knowing they had faith in you to have your own outlets meant more than anything in the world. You felt like the success you’d been searching for had finally rewarded you. So, you hopped on a plane and threw on your best dress. You left your hotel room with big smiles and the determination to forget any uncertainty. Still, you were well aware that a gala in Nashville would indisputably include musicians. That meant there was a larger chance of seeing Josh than you were particularly comfortable with.

You followed the sea of people into the large room, noticing it was decorated in hints of golds and silvers, really showcasing elegance. The stage was lit up with low lights, hinting towards the anticipated guest speakers. Soft music flowed through the sound system, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Music was the best way to drown out the other noise, and in your life, there was always noise. “You know, there’s more to life than caviar and blow.” You looked to your side, focusing on your company for the night. You laughed at her comment once you’d processed what she said. “I don’t think many people here know that.”

“It’s a tale of the rich, Liz. Most of these people were born on a bed of gold plated fish eggs and were shoved straight into generational drug addiction.” You smirked, eyes scanning the crowd. You knew your parents weren’t poor, but they were far from the families some of these people were born into. They had good reputations in the community, but not across the world. You weren’t impoverished, but would never have fathomed this type of money as a kid. As much as they cared about appearance, they were good parents. They raised you with love and strong morals, and you weren’t a stranger to struggle. They didn’t pay your way through life. What you got came from what you earned.

“Can you even imagine growing up this way? First birthdays spent at the Met Gala and graduation parties thrown in Venice?” She chuckled, but disbelief was present in her tone. Liz was a university student you’d hand picked to hire after her graduation. She doubled as an assistant and one of your models, but she was more than that. Over the months, she’d slowly turned into your best friend. She wasn’t much younger than you, only by about three years. Her resume caught your eye faster than any other, and you’d called her almost instantly. She just wanted experience in the fashion world, but you were certain that if things went smooth over the next few months, you’d ensure she’d be given her shares in the company. She worked extremely hard, had fantastic insight, along with being bright, kind, and hilarious. She kept you on your toes and brought you back to reality when you needed it.

“I suppose if you don’t know anything else, it’s completely normal.” You theorized. “I don’t ever want my kids to grow up that way. I don’t want them to be scared of playing outside and getting dirty. I don’t want money to be their main concern. And, if I had to suffer through the American public school system, they will too.” You laughed. She joined in, agreeing completely. You turned your head towards her, noticing the material of her dress was misplaced around her shoulders. “Mm, hold on,” you said, reaching over to her. She faced you, already knowing what the look on your face meant. You straightened it out, taking a small step back to double check. “There. Can’t have you in disarray, darling. Sure way to get us kicked out.” She grinned, picking up on your joking tone immediately.

“You just want your designer dresses to look perfect.”

“I’m nothing if not vain.” You both shared another laugh. You noticed a photographer making his way around the room through the corner of your eye. “Lipstick check.” You said, panicked. You flashed her your teeth.

“You’re good.” She repeated the action back to you.

“You, too.” You let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Can’t wait to get the pictures and introductions over with so we can start drinking.”

“You don’t need any generational alcoholism; you got that all by yourself.” She chided. You chuckled, eyes searching for a server with champagne. That was one thing that was always for certain; no matter how mind-numbing the gala’s were, there was always high-end alcohol floating around somewhere.

“It’s not all pretty patterns and cross stitching, you know. Have to drown the demons somehow.” Your conversation was cut short by a camera being shoved in your faces. You gave your best public smile, the kind where your lips were upturned but you looked a little dead behind the eyes. Somehow in the celebrity world, that equated to elegance. You posed with Liz, giving the camera a bit of a show. Eventually, you broke and gave a real smile, but only for a moment. Once the photographer moved away, you relaxed your posture, feeling a bit more human.

“Does fame always entail looking soulless?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’ll get used to it.” You mumbled, eyes falling to the table that was overflowing with food. Your eyes lit up at the sight of self-serve champagne flutes. You grabbed Liz’s hand, bringing her along with you as you advanced towards it. You picked up a glass, immediately taking a large gulp out of it. The nude colour of your lipstick stained the rim, claiming it as your own. Liz grabbed one too, also indulging in the bubbly liquid. “You don’t have to look soulless all of the time. Just when you’re posing, or on the walk, or if you’re walking down the street, or at the supermarket.” You listed, humour radiating from you. “Interviews give you the chance to show a little bit of life. Takes the world as a shock, you know, when they realize you actually have a personality.” You continued the earlier conversation.

“That seems a bit odd, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But it’s what I was taught.” You gave a shrug. “I think people find power attractive, and that’s kind of what you encase in pictures when you look like that. At least that’s what I picked up from it.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Also makes the interviews more memorable, too. People cling to the emotion ‘cause they feel like they finally get to know some part of you. Feel connected, even.”

“Exactly, sweetheart. See? You’re gonna have my job in no time.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you’ve got at least two more good years before people get bored of you.” You couldn’t help the cackle that fell from your lips, finding the statement hilarious mostly because of its truth. The spotlight only shines for so long before it’s begging to move on. “I don’t want your job. I’d like to work with you forever, I think.” She picked up an appetizer from the table, eyeing it suspiciously before popping it in her mouth.

“Don’t you think I’d be more fun when I go batshit crazy because I don’t know what to do with myself after the fame?”

“No, because I’d have to take care of you.” She said without missing a beat. “I know the rest of the ass-kissers at the office won’t. They just want their five minutes of fame. They don’t give a shit about you.” You hummed an agreement, knowing she was speaking the truth. True connection in the world of money and power was rare, and she was the only person you’d ever felt it with aside from your own mentor. It was a constant struggle of use people or get used, and it was exhausting. As much passion as you had for your work, you were always the first to admit that the industry was ruthless.

“Yeah, sometimes I feel like Julius Caesar walking in there. Waiting for the day they all get together and stab me.” You took another sip from your glass.

“Well, they’ll probably stab me, too. At least we can go to hell, together.” You raised your glass as a cheers to the statement. She gently clicked her glass against yours in response. “Jokes aside, you are a good boss. They all have great things to say about you, so you don’t have to worry about planned assassination, yet.”

“Fantastic news. I’ve been preparing for it for weeks, now.” You smiled. Just as you finished speaking, the lights dimmed a little further. You paid no mind to it, assuming it was just a cue for everyone to gather around in preparation for the first speech. “I want to be a good boss. I don’t want to be the person everybody is scared of. I do what I do because I love it, not for the money. If I can make people fall in love with it, too, then I know I did something worthwhile. That’s the end goal.” You drained the last of your beverage, placing your glass on the tray to be taken away. You immediately went for another, needing the liquid courage for when the stage was yours.

“You do a good job. That office is full of inspiration. I never felt out of place, even when I had no experience. Made me feel like I was meant to be there, rather than just meant to work for you.” You let a smile out, one laced with genuineness.

“Cause you are, Liz. I didn’t hire you because i thought you’d stroke my ego. I hired you because I knew you’d challenge me. There’s no pride in getting your way all of the time. We all need a little criticism to thrive.”

“It’s insane, y/n. I remember being in my grad year and hearing about the new model catching the attention of everyone at Fashion Week. Less than a year later, you were working with one of the biggest designers in America, and starting your own brand. You made the industry your bitch, and when you hired me I was terrified of you. I thought anyone who climbed the ladder that fast had to be evil. But you’re just a person. My friend, even. You respect everyone, from the big bosses to the janitors. It’s very admirable.”

“Don’t stroke my ego, I just told you that’s not why I hired you.” You chuckled. “I was the same as everyone else, too. I didn’t come from money, I had to do the dirty work, I got my heart broken, and knocked down a few times, too. I can recognize what I have now had a lot to do with luck, even if I do have the talent. That’s just the way the industry works. But, everyone plays a part in success, even if you’re the one changing the garbages, signing the legal documents, or have your name sewn into the tag.” She watched you in admiration as you spoke, almost shaking her head in disbelief. Despite the tiny age gap, she always felt like she could get the wisdom she craved from you. She looked up to you, even when you told her not to. In your eyes, you and her were the same. You wished she’d start to see it that way, too. “You’ll realize I’m just me when I get up there and stumble over all of my words.” You chuckled.

“You’ll look hot while you do it, though.” She gave you a nudge with your elbow. You laughed, feeling redness rise to your cheeks.

“You think so?” You appreciated the compliment more than she realized. Deep down, you were hoping to look good, just in case Josh happened to be floating around the event.

“Oh, yeah. That dress was the right choice.” You both fell into a silence, meticulously people watching. By the time the first speech was over with, you were buzzing with nervousness for your turn on the stage. You realized just how many people were there as you observed the crowed, understanding that if you messed up, you’d be the laughing stock of the event. Liz picked up on your anxiety, soothing you with small jokes and comments intermittently. It was helping slightly, knowing that you weren’t there alone, at least.

You’d done a lot of behind the scenes work over the last year. You did a few shows, not minding the camera in your face because you didn’t have to say anything. There was no worry of stutters or misplaced rambling. Only recently had you started speaking publicly, beginning with interviews and press conferences. Now, they were integrating you into a spokesperson. As your mentor told you, your work is nothing without publicity. You needed to create the illusion of connection, make people believe they know you, make them feel appreciated. That was the key to success. You spoke at a few gala’s, but this was the largest one to date with some of the most popular faces. The alcohol was giving you a bit of a sense of confidence, and whether it was fake or not didn’t matter; you had it, and you were going to use it.

A hand on your shoulder sent a jolt of shock through you, as it was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. Somewhere in your soul, you recognized it without even having to look at the face. “I always told you green was your colour, sunshine.” The tone, the dialect, formulation of the words, even the barely noticeable Michigan accent at the end of the sentence was painstakingly reminiscent for you. Your stomach plummeted, heart pounding against your rib cage as you turned towards the voice. Your gaze connected with his, sending a wave of emotion through you more powerful than most you’d felt before.

“Jake,” you breathed. His lips upturned into a smile, unable to contain his excitement to see you.

“I missed you.” He said, wasting no time pulling you into a hug. As much of a shock as it was to see him, you couldn’t help but melt into the hold. As angry as you were with his brother, Jake had always been your best friend through the years of dating Josh. When your relationship came to an untimely end, so did your friendship. You’d grown estranged from the boy in the same way you had with Josh, and it killed you just the same, too. You spent days deliberating reaching out to him, just to check in, but you didn’t want to overstep boundaries. Instead, you mastered the art of becoming a stranger with him, too.

“You had time to miss me with all of that music you’re making?” You teased, pulling back but not fully letting go of him. Your hand rested on his bicep, hesitant to release him in case he slipped away. “An album and another world tour coming up, I’m surprised you have time to think of anything other than that guitar.”

“Always have time to think about you,” he said, trying to pass it off as a joke. You could see a flicker of hurt cross his eyes, the small emotion feeling like a stab to the chest. “What about you, though? Your own brand and an outlet store here in Nashville?”

“So you keep up to date with me?” You grinned.

“Seems like you do, too.” He chuckled. “I, uh… I’m proud of you, Sunny.” The words settled in your bones like cement, weighing you down. As kind as they were, everything seemed to hurt when it was coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his tone of voice reminded you so much of the boy you forced yourself to stop thinking about. Maybe it was his mannerisms, or the face, because when he turned his head a certain angle, all you could see was Josh. Whatever it was, it hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

“I’m proud of you guys, too. The single was phenomenal. I always knew you guys were destined for something big. I think I can even see the rock and roll hall of fame in your future.” You smiled.

“One can dream.” He laughed. “I saw you were almost completely sold out of pre-orders. Everybody has been talking about you. It’s crazy.”

“You checked out my website?” You asked, a fizzle of excitement sparking in your chest. He scoffed at the question.

“I think we were the first to put an order in.” He was telling the truth, you could sense the genuine nature of his words just by his eyes. “The men’s line is super cool, by the way.”

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You got something?” Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

“Of course we did, y/n. We all got something.” You wanted to press further about his statement of ‘all’, but you pushed the thought away.

“I thought you guys would have forgotten about me by now.” You admitted. A bewildered look flashed across his face.

“Forget you?” He asked, unable to believe you’d ever think that. “Sunny, we think about you almost every day. We talk about you all of the time.” You swallowed hard at the new found information. “I saw your name on the program and I knew I couldn’t let you get away without saying hi, at least. I’ve been looking for you all night. Recognized you as soon as I saw you over here. Could spot you from a mile away. I know… I know things ended pretty poorly, but the love is still there. That’ll never go away.” You almost didn’t know how to answer, wanting to pry more from him, but also not wanting to know at all.

“Is… is Josh here, too?” You finally asked, knowing the answer before he replied.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Is he,” you paused yourself, unsure if the inquiries were pushing a boundary. “okay? I mean, like obviously, but you know.” You rambled, embarrassing yourself slightly.

“He’s Josh.” Jake assured you, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “He misses you. He’s the first to check all of the fashion magazines to see if they’re talking about you. He hasn’t been… quite the same, since everything. He still laughs and drinks and rambles, but he’s a bit more distant, I think.”

“Oh,” you repeated your same proclamation from earlier.

“If you feel up to it, maybe stop and say hello. Even if you don’t talk to him, Sam and Danny would be over the moon to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t know, Jake.” A humourless laugh fell from your lips. “Some things are just better left as is.”

“I don’t think this one is,” he said, eyes boring into you. “It’s completely up to you, sunshine.” He said, smiling warmly to assure you he meant it. Before you could respond, the announcer called out your name; in the height of emotion, you must have missed your introduction. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?” Jake said, ushering you to the stage. You nodded, downing the last of your champagne before bustling towards the stairs. You were mindful of the skirt of your dress as you walked, fearing you may trip on it and ruin the entrance. Once you had both feet planted safely on the stage, you took to the mic stand.

“Thank you for that kind introduction,” You smiled off to the side of the stage at the host, assuming he had said something kind like he had for the other speakers. Otherwise, you would look a bit like a fool. “It’s fantastic to be here tonight.” You took in a breath, trying not to focus on the crowd staring up at you. “I spent a long time debating on what to say when I got here, tonight. If I’m being completely transparent, I’m still not sure. The boss told me to get up here and tell you about myself, so that’s what I’m going to do.” You started, eyes settling on Liz for some sense of security. You used her as a focal point until your comfortability grew. “It’s intimidating getting on stage and talking about success. Especially when I feel far behind in that department, sometimes. It doesn’t seem to matter how many sales are made, or how many congratulations are spewed; we always seem to be our biggest critic, and I haven’t been able to break that habit, yet. Growing up in Nashville, there was always buzz about the greats and the up and coming stars; this whole city, and state, is full of pride, and for good reason. To think that I can be considered part of it has been mind-blowing. Knowing the support I have from home and all over the world has been incredibly eye opening, and a bit of a confidence boost, too.” You flashed a smile, causing a chorus of laughter from the audience.

“Just over a year ago, I was packing my bags and riddled with anxiety at the thought of jumping on a plane and flying away from everything I’d ever known. Somehow, by the grace of the universe, I’d been selected to participate in New York Fashion Week. When I moved there, there was no true promise of a career, but the publicity certainly seemed like a good place to start. As I flew away from here, all I could hear in my head was a million reasons to turn around and stay home. There was one voice of reason in the swarm of negativity that pushed me to follow my dream, and I’m so thankful I listened to it.” You paused, regaining your breath before you continued on. “When I arrived, I got to meet people I’d been admiring for my entire life; names that I never thought I would get a chance to speak about, let alone speak to them. I walked with pride, even in my ignorance. I had no idea what I was doing, I was just happy to be there. Somehow, in my clumsiness and lack of grace, someone saw potential. I was lucky enough to be graced with a mentor who never gave up on me; one who taught me everything I know. She is my rock, and my mother away from home. I owe every success to her, and I have no shame in saying that.” There was an awe from the crowd, appreciating the sweetness.

“She taught me design, sure, but more so than that, she taught me dedication, pride and the true meaning of hard work.” Another laugh sounded. “After a few months of relentless effort, it started to pay off. A few small companies picked up my designs, using them for miscellaneous projects. But one day, in the dreariness of winter, I was given my most valuable gift; the offer to launch my own line of clothing. Of course, partnered with my parent company, but my own work, with my heart and soul stitched into the seams. I still struggle to believe it’s real.” There was a chorus of cheers at the statement. You gave a smile, rose dusting your cheeks. “In the time from the early stages of production to now, I’ve made incredible memories. There were hard times, lots of tears and challenges, and even a couple nights leaving me with the desire to give up. But I pushed through, persevering only due to the strength that my team gives me every day. Every person I work with played a part in me getting here, and it would be incredibly dishonourable to walk away without thanking them for their hard work, too. I was lucky enough to bring along my assistant, Liz.” You pointed to her in the front row. “She’s been my driving force, my best friend, and my motivation. I have no doubt that she’ll take over for me eventually, or even be bigger than what I am, now. If anyone deserves applause, it’s her.” The crowd gave another round of cheers, causing the younger girl to erupt in a blush, smiling and waving slightly. When the crowd died down, you continued.

“I’m beyond grateful to say the presales for the brand have nearly been sold out already. That is almost unfathomable for me to think about. This morning our company issued an announcement, which I’m sure some have heard by now. After months of relentless efforts, and the dedication from my fantastic colleagues, in addition to launching this new line of clothing, our first outlet will be opening here in Nashville. We thought it only right for my hometown to be the first place to have access to our store. I’m at a loss of words at the moment; I cannot express my gratitude enough.” A round of applause sounded. You couldn’t hold back your grin, looking around the room at all of the beaming faces.

“I want to sincerely thank everyone here for giving me the time to speak. Telling my story still feels very odd, like I shouldn’t have a story to tell. I never expected to be here in my lifetime, let alone at the young age that I am. To be considered a part of Nashville’s pride is an extraordinary feeling, and proof that hard work does pay off. I would be nothing without this city, and to see the love it has for me is a beautiful thing. I also want to say thank you to all of the friends of the past, ones who I don’t necessarily speak with anymore, but I always hold close to me, no matter the distance. There’s a few in the audience tonight, ones who will forever hold a place in my heart. They helped me get here just as much as anyone else.” You gave a soft smile, trying to locate Jake. You caught sight of him, making sure he knew who you were talking about. You ignored the bodies that stood next to him, unsure if you could keep going if you caught Josh’s gaze. “So with that, I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy your night of festivities. The food is fantastic, and so are the drinks. Thank you for allowing me to share my celebrations with you all, and here’s to a hundred more outlet stores across the world.”

As you stepped off the stage, you were finally able to fully catch your breath. The clapping and cheering didn’t fully dissipate until you rejoined Liz by the beverages. “You did fantastic!” She raved, handing you a new glass of champagne.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You breathed, fanning yourself with your hand. You grabbed the champagne with your other, wanting to drink away the feeling of standing on stage. “This is so stupid, don’t you think?” You asked her. “A bunch of rich people bragging about how rich they are.”

“That’s only some of them. Others are people who worked hard and want to celebrate the success. That’s where you come in.” She gave you a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for the mention. Made me feel special.”

“You are special,” you laughed. “Takes a certain type of person to be able to put up with me all day.”

“Mm, you seem pretty widely liked. Who was that guy you were talking to?” She pried. You grimaced at the memory of the interaction.

“Uh, that was ex-boyfriends twin brother.” You explained. Her eyes widened at the knowledge, almost as if she didn’t believe you. You were surprised she didn’t catch on. Well, more surprised that she wasn’t eavesdropping. If you were her, you would be.

“Like ex-boyfriend who broke up with you because you moved to New York?”

“That’s the one.” You nodded. She knew about Josh, but mostly just the basics. She was well aware of the constant internal battle of still loving him and hating his guts. “Jake was my best friend, too, though. Just ‘cause me and Josh ended badly doesn’t mean I don’t love him.” You shrugged.

“So do we hate Josh today, or love him?” She raised an eyebrow.

“To be determined.” You grabbed a napkin off the table and one of the more appetizing looking foods.

“Is he here?” You nodded.

“Whole band is. I’m not surprised. They have an album and a world tour coming up.”

“So you keep tabs on them,” she smirked.

“Yeah, obviously. You wouldn’t?”

“Fair enough.” She conceded. “Are you going to talk to him?”

You didn’t answer, mostly because you weren’t sure yourself. You had no idea if you wanted to talk to him, and no idea if he wanted to talk to you. You weren’t mad at her for being curious. She’d been trying to set you up on dates the entire time she’d known you, but you always turned them down. She only clued in to why after you told her about Josh. You had no interest in dating anyone, mostly because you were certain nobody would ever compare to him. The other part of you was terrified of getting hurt like that again. When Josh let you walk out without as much as a shred of hesitation, it shattered you. He was everything; the one thing in your life you’d ever been 100% certain of. Leaving him behind was gut wrenching, but knowing he didn’t care enough to fight for you was worse. You always believed he loved you enough to not care about the distance; the few tours he’d done while you were dating never proved to be an issue. You had a hard time swallowing the truth that he didn’t mind the distance as long as he wasn’t the one waiting at home.

“I don’t know, Liz.” You sighed. “It’s been a long time. I think it’s better to just let it go.”

“If you still love him this much after all of this time, maybe you shouldn’t.” You placed the flute to your lips, tipping your head back and taking another long drink of champagne.

“You’ll learn soon enough not to listen to your heart all of the time. Brain knows best.” You reminded. “And stop being an instigator, you little shit.” You laughed. She smiled, but her eyes were following something behind you. You furrowed your eyebrows at her sudden disinterest in you, finding it odd.

“Better turn your heart off, then.” She let out a quick mumble of words. She’d recognized him just from the similarities to his brother. There was no mistaking who he was, or who he was intending to talk to.

“What?” You questioned, turning your head to look in the direction of her gaze. As soon as you did, you wished you hadn’t.

Your heart sped, stomach erupting into nervous butterflies. Your palms were sweating and your breath was stuck in your throat. Josh was there, approaching you with intent. He looked different; his hair was fluffier, shaved down on the sides. He had facial hair, too, although not much. He really looked like he’d grown up since the last time you’d seen him. But, if you had to admit it, you did, too. No more kids pretending to be grown ups with too many hopes and dreams; real adults with real professions. Adults that admittedly, had been very stupid. Adults that were still very much hurting over the mistakes their younger selves made. The difference 18 months can make was staggering, you realized.

His confidence faltered once he caught your eyes. He was certain he was going to fall to his knees, weak just from the sight of you in front of him again. As he walked, he debated turning around, pretending he’d never seen you at all. But, he was certain there was a gleam of hope in your eye, and that drove him to keep going. “I’ll catch up with you later,” Liz said, quickly shuffling away to give you a moment of privacy. By the time she was out of sight, he was in front of you. The scent of incense and lingering cologne hit you like a ton of bricks. It was a scent you’d been craving for a long time, unmistakably Josh. Unmistakably home. The both of you stood, unsure of where to start. The emotion was too intense for a simple hello, but the uncertainty limited you both from saying anything else.

You looked over his face, taking in his features, studying him as if you were trying to memorize him all over again. He did look different, his jaw a bit more prominent and overall looked a bit more serious than he used to. Still, under the new facade, he was in there. The Josh you fell in love with was undoubtedly standing in front of you, just rebranded. You realized he couldn’t change enough to take away the type of love you had for him, for it was undying. “Is this the part where we cause a scene and I throw my drink at you?” You asked. The corner of his lips upturned into a smirk.

“If you feel the need to, I suppose I could understand why.” You returned the expression, happy to know that the spark was still there. At least to you, it was.

“How’ve you been, Josh?” You whispered. You were certain a flash of hurt crossed his eyes as the words left your lips. It was one that told you he thought too much of you for such simplistic small-talk. One that screamed rejection at the formalities, especially considering you both knew each other better than anyone else.

“Travelling the world.” He shrugged, but that’s all he gave. “What about you, Sunshine?” The sound of the nickname coming from his lips could have sent you straight to your knees. You had to take a long breath before you could respond, feeling the need to recover from his question.

“Dressing up and pretending I fit in with these people.”

“Pretending?” He challenged. “Could’ve fooled me.” You gave a soft smile. “That speech was phenomenal.”

“Suppose I’ve grown into the part, now.”

“Crazy what a year and a half can do, eh?” You caught his eyes, feeling your heart ache at the sea of brown you’d been missing so much. “Not like anyone was counting, though.” He added, trying to pass it off as a joke, afraid to let the vulnerability through.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “You look good.” You finally said, airing out what you wanted to admit. He chuckled.

“Have you looked in a mirror, lately? Success looks fantastic on you.” He breathed. “I didn’t think you could get any prettier, but you always seem to surprise me.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment.

“You’re all looking quite spectacular, actually. I’d like to meet your stylist. Seems like they really know what they’re doing. The stage outfits are a masterpiece. Maybe I could work with them, if you’re willing to open up a spot for an old friend.” You smiled, a warm one without any dishonest undertones. He let out a small laugh, nodding along to your statement.

“I’m sure we could work something out. We’d all be pretty thrilled to have you on board with us.” A painful moment ensued, one where you clearly picked up on his refrain. He was talking in broadness to avoid letting you know how badly he’d enjoy having you around, again. “Did you maybe want to go somewhere a bit more private?” He asked, breaking the silence you’d fallen into.

“Yeah, that would be alright.” You nodded. “Think I need a few drinks for this conversation, though.” You finished the last of your champagne and grabbed two more flutes. He nodded, appreciating the idea, then grabbed two for himself. He was grateful you hadn’t turned around and walked away. A simple hello was more than he was expecting from the conversation.

He led you in the direction of a side door, opening it and holding it for you. You slipped out, noticing that it revealed a patio area. The night was cool, but clear. The stars twinkled few and far between, and the moon casted a low light over the ground. There were a few tables and chairs places spaciously around the deck, the posts adorned with swirls of string lights. It would have been quite romantic had the mood not been so sullen. He pulled out a chair for you, inviting you to sit down. You did so, placing your glasses on the table. He pulled a chair from the other side of the table towards you. He settled in front of you, a little bit closer than ex’s should sit.

He took a long look at you, drinking in every detail and finding himself intoxicated from it. He’d wished for so long to have you in front of him again that he seemed to forget the effect you had on him. It had only gotten worse with time. He looked to be waiting for you to speak first, so you did. “Why’d you let me go that night?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I was stupid.” He admitted.

“Yeah,” you nodded, agreeing with him.

“Why’d you leave like that?” He asked, challenging your question. You looked up at him, disbelief clouding your expression.

“You made me choose, Josh.” You reminded him, not willing to take the blame for the situation.

“And you didn’t choose me.” He said, not in an accusatory fashion. Just in a simple sense, as if he was recalling the night as you spoke.

“I didn’t want to choose at all.” You explained. “You were asking me to pick between the two things I wanted most in life. It’s not like I walked into that conversation planning to leave you.”

“You chose a job over me, y/n.” You shot him a look, one that he knew all too well. It would take a lifetime to forget it.

“What if it was the other way around? You know you wouldn’t have picked me over music.” He kept his gaze on you, almost smiling, despite the situation being completely humourless.

“I certainly would have thought about it.” He answered. You could see he meant it, but you weren’t sure if he understood the implications of what he was saying.

“Okay.” You nodded, acknowledging his answer. “Come to New York with me.” You said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“What?”

“Come to New York with me.” You repeated, refusing to back down. He didn’t need to know you’d likely be staying in Nashville at least for the foreseeable future. He didn’t need to know your bags were packed at your apartment, waiting for you to return just so you could pick them up. Your homecoming was set in stone, but you needed to see if he realized the extent of his answer.

“Things are different, now, y/n.” He said, dismissing the subject.

“Pretend they’re not.” You urged. “Please.”

“I would fly to see you on the weekends. Stay with you as much as I could. But I couldn’t move there.” He said. You nodded along to his words, begging for him to see the issue in his statement.

“What if that’s not good enough? It’s all or nothing, Josh.” You felt your anger that you’d suppressed for so long begin to surface. “It’s me or the band.” You leaned forward, catching his eyes as he tried to look away from you.

“I get it, okay!” He finally exploded, likely feeling the same way you did. “I know what I did wasn’t right. I’ve spent a year and a half trying to forgive myself for it. But you were so caught up in being mad that you didn’t even stop to think about how I felt!” Rarely did you ever see Josh yell, let alone expel frustration the way he was doing in that moment. You were taken back, but not distracted from your feelings.

“Then tell me!” You pleaded. “You wouldn’t even look at me that night! All you said was you didn’t have anything to say to me, but clearly you do, so say it!”

“Fine, you want to hear it?” He asked, leaning forward, too. “I love, but I don’t fall in love with people. Never have. Thought it was too much commitment for such a short lifetime. I spent my entire life completely fine with never settling down. Then I met you, and you changed everything! I didn’t even get to decide whether I fell in love with you or not. By the time I started to realize how much you meant to me, I was already head over heels. I spent every day of my life, for three years, falling more in love with you every day that passed; I changed my whole outlook because you showed up and made me realize maybe I just hadn’t met the right person, and that’s why I never wanted to commit. We moved in together, and I started picturing this life with you, one where you had my last name and we had a few kids. Then you left. You just came home one day and said you were leaving, as if it weren’t an earth-shattering idea. I was so mad because you changed my entire life, and then you took it away!” You understood better, now. He felt abandoned, and you caused it. He never would have admitted it to you then, and he barely wanted to, now. Still, the idea of him thinking you were going to walk away and forget all about him stung like no other.

“I didn’t leave you, Josh. I left Nashville!” You exclaimed. “I never pictured a life without you, and I still don’t! I sit at my apartment alone and hope that maybe you’ll text me, or call, or show up! But you never did, so I had to learn how to deal with it!”

“It was the same thing, y/n! You left me behind for a whole new life. If we didn’t break up that night, we would have anyway!” You’re recoiled as if he’d burned you. “I didn’t call because you were perfectly fine leaving me here! You jumped on that plane and got to start over, and I got to sleep in a bed that haunted me with your presence!”

“It wasn’t the same, Josh.” You shook your head. “I sat at home in that apartment every day when you were touring the world, watching you live your dream from the sidelines. Watching girls throw themselves at you, always wondering if maybe I’d wake up one day and you’d find someone new. I waited for you, watching your life through a phone screen while I worked my shitty 9-5 and settled for video calls whenever you had time for me. Not once did I make you feel like shit about it. But the minute I get a chance at the life I’ve always dreamed of, it was a choice? One or the other? It wasn’t fucking fair, Josh. How was I supposed to stay after that?”

“You started dating me knowing that was my life! I spent three years with you building one of our own, one that we were used to, and comfortable with, one where we were happy. You came home one day and told me you’re getting on a plane and leaving for god knows how long. There was no discussion, I just had to be okay with it!” He was leaning closer with every word. Your faces were inches apart, both of you radiating with anger and on the defensive.

“Of course you were, Josh! You were my boyfriend! I told you I got invited to model in New York Fashion Week, and you made me feel like I didn’t have it in me, like you were already waiting for me to fail and come crawling back to you! You let me walk out that door like the three years we spent together meant nothing to you. Like you were only okay with being in love with me as long as it benefited you.” Tears were brimming in your eyes, the ache of the pain from that night still as prominent as it was a year prior. “You knew how much it meant to me. It was my biggest dream, one that I thought I would never achieve. I finally had a chance to live the life I always wanted, which still in included you, by the way, but you were too stubborn to understand anything other than your hurt. I would have came home every weekend to see you, called you every night, I would have done anything, because you were my whole world! You were supposed to support me, and you left me! I walked out that night, but you made that decision!” The tears spilled on to your cheeks, finally shed after so long holding them back. In the heat of the moment, at the sight of your hurt, he threw the anger and the fighting to the side. Without hesitation, his arms shot out and pulled you into a hug. You didn’t fight, just held him, too. As upset as you were, you knew that his hold was something you’d been longing for the whole time you were apart. The way he felt wrapped around you made you believe that the world was okay; the comfort was an impenetrable force.

“I never wanted to make you feel that way.” He whispered, holding your head securely in his palm. He used his other one to rub circles on your back. “I will always be your biggest fan, even if we never speak again after tonight. I’m so proud of you, and I can’t stress that enough. I was selfish, and I know that. You did so much for me, you always supported me, and I took it for granted. I was hurt when you left, but I never should have let you leave like that. I should have been there for you, cheering you on the same way you did for me.” He hesitated, but placed a kiss to the top of your head. When you didn’t recoil, he took it as a win. “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“I am, too.” You said, the tears finally slowing. You pulled back, although quite hesitant in the action. He let you, but didn’t remove his hand from you. Instead, his thumb drifted to your cheek to wipe away the tears that had fallen. “It was never from a lack of love, Josh. When it comes to you, that’s not even a possibility. Breaking up with you was never an idea in my head. The distance didn’t scare me, because I knew I loved you enough to work through anything. When you wanted me to choose, I panicked. I was hurt, and I reacted based on that. I shouldn’t have walked out without fixing things. That was my mistake.”

“No, y/n. I shouldn’t have put you in that position, and I never should have let you leave like that. I was hurting and I was scared, I thought you would leave and forget about me. I didn’t want to lose you, but I ended up losing you, anyway, and I still haven’t recovered. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” You leaned into his touch, resting your head on his hand.

“Josh, I fell in love with you the day I met you. That never changed. I still walk around New York City, hoping I run into you, praying it won’t be like this forever. Your memory lives in everything I do; I couldn’t forget about you, even if I wanted to. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You laughed. “You’re the love of my life, whether it was only for a period of time or if we still have a chance. Nobody could ever replace you.”

“I never moved out of the apartment. It’s still decorated the same. It still has little reminders of you, everywhere. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them. Jake thinks I’m insane, or I’m torturing myself. I guess I just thought you’d come back for them, someday.” He confessed. “I still love you the same as I did a year ago.”

“Me, too.” You closed your eyes, hoping to hold on to the memory of his words forever. “So we’ve both been waiting for each other to come back this whole time? We’ve just been too stubborn to send a message first?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Both of us watching the others lives through social media, the most impersonal way possible.”

“You looked so happy. I was worried you were happier without me.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at the statement.

“See? Impersonal. I’ve been miserable, mama.” Your heart soared at the term of endearment. You reached for your champagne glass, taking a sip, careful not to let your eyes leave him.

“Yeah, me too.” You eventually laughed. “We don’t have to be miserable, anymore. Not tonight, at least.” You said, wanting to blame the advance on the alcohol, but knowing deep down that it was wholly untrue.

“Are you saying what I think you are?” He raised an eyebrow. The Josh you knew so well was starting to make an appearance, again. You gave a shrug.

“I have a room upstairs with free room service. King bed, too.” He looked at you with intrigue, wanting to jump at the chance but still being afraid your judgement was clouded. He didn’t want you to regret it in the morning.

“There’s probably still a lot we could get off our chests. Did you want to talk more, first? I just want you to be sure this is what you want.” You stood, drinking the last of the liquid from your glass and moving on to the next.

“Fuck, Josh, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. We can figure it out in the morning. I haven’t had sex in a year and a half, and I’m tired of waiting. I want you.” He took a deep inhale at the words, fighting the urge to take your clothes off right there. He stood, too, grabbing his own champagne glasses. He had no fight left in him, because he wanted you just as bad.

“Lead the way, mama.” For a moment, things felt right. Like no time had passed and you were both the same people as you were before all of the hurt. You turned on your heels, heading back to the door you came through, earlier. He was hot on your trail, not willing to let you leave his sight.

You slipped back inside, noticing the speeches had come to a close and the lights were off. The music was louder and the mood lighting really set the tone for the rest of the night. If you weren’t in such an entanglement, you thought you might enjoy it. But, you were certain that the nights events would top whatever enjoyment the ballroom could give you. You dropped off your empty glasses on the way by, watching Josh discard his, too. You reached out for him, looking back over your shoulder. He tangled his fingers with yours, over the moon at the feeling after so long without it. You guided him to the exit, managing to sneak out without too many curious glances. Liz, however, noticed you as soon as you came back inside. Josh’s brothers did, too. All of them were well aware that it wasn’t over between the two of you, and it never would be. They were waiting for the reunion just as much as the two of you were.

You both ran down the hallway to the elevator, giggles slipping out intermittently. When the doors opened, allowing you inside, Josh jumped at the moment of seclusion. His hand found your waist, pulling you into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His free hand guided your chin upwards, finally taking the chance to lean down and kiss you. You melted into the feeling, closing your eyes in bliss. It was sweet, no provocative nature present. Just both of you savouring the moment in which you’d been denied of for months. When the ding signified your destination was reached, his wandering hands were reluctant to pull away. Thankfully, your room wasn’t too far away, meaning he wouldn’t have to wait too long to continue.

You keyed into your room, barely getting the door closed before he was back on you. You both kicked off your shoes, leading him further inside before things got too heated. You parted from him to click on the lamp by your bedside. He took the chance to admire you, now. No more residual tension was clouding his vision. “You look stunning, y/n.” You turned to him, a smile on your lips.

“You look pretty good yourself, Joshua.” He approached again, slower and more cautious. He raised his hand to your cheek, brushing away all of the hair obscuring the sight of your face.

“Has it really been that long?” He didn’t need to clarify; you knew what he was asking. You gave a nod, hoping you didn’t have to dive into it too far. In truth, you didn’t want to hear a submission of guilt from him. If he’d been with other people in your time apart, it was his free will, and you couldn’t be upset about it. There was no disloyalty of any kind, but you certainly didn’t want to imagine it.

“I guess it never felt right. Always felt like I was still yours, I think.” You shrugged. He smiled at the words, overjoyed at the profession.

“Me either,” he said, running his thumb over your cheek. “I was always yours, too.” You let out a sigh of relief, almost feeling the need to cry again. The entire night felt so surreal, almost as if you were dreaming.

“God, please tell me this is real life. I don’t want to wake up disappointed.” You pleaded. He chuckled, finding the statement quite cute.

“It’s real, mama. Trust me, I feel the same way.” He leaned down, kissing you once more. Your hand reached for him, landing somewhere on his side. You didn’t care where it landed, only that you were touching him again. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” He stated, pulling back just enough to get the words out. A laugh fell from your lips, one that was quiet and still laced with disbelief. “Turn around for me.” You obliged, spinning to face the other direction.

His fingers drifted over your exposed skin, gathering your hair and pushing it to the side. He unzipped your dress, gently brushing the silk straps from your shoulders. He leaned forward pressing his lips to the spots they once graced. You let out a hum of delight, closing your eyes at the sensation. He let you decide whether you wanted to let the fabric fall, and you did. It dropped with as much elegance as it held while you adorned it on your body. He bent down, waiting for you to step away from it. Once you did, he cautiously picked it from the ground, gently laying it over the chair by the bedside. Once it was safely out of the way, he finally turned to look at you again. His breath caught in his throat, completely taken off guard at the sight of you naked before him once again.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, taking a step towards you. You were standing, completely naked aside from your underwear, at full disposal for whatever he chose to do with you. There was no worry in your body; the minute his hands found you again, you were certain you’d found home, again. After so long wandering through life, gaining success but never really feeling like you belonged, it made sense again. All of the money and the fame was satisfying, but never fulfilling. His touch reminded you of why everybody loved to say money can’t buy happiness. There was no financial value that would ever equate to the feeling of being loved by Josh. If you were put on earth for a purpose, it was to be loved by him, and to love him. Nobody could look at you and see right into your soul the way he could; he knew every part of you without even looking or having to ask. “Lay down, baby.” He insisted.

You allowed him to guide you down on the bed, your head finding home in the nest of pillows. He rid himself of his jacket, and his shirt wasn’t long following. You watching him in awe, not being able to comprehend how one boy could posses so much beauty. It was in everything he did, his words, his actions, his appearance. He was perfect. He slipped out of his pants, climbing in bed with you. He pulled you into his arms, just enjoying the intimacy for a moment. Eventually, you were both stripped naked and tangled in each others limbs. As heated as the journey to your room was, sex was no longer the most pressing thought in your heads. You found yourself lost in chatter, laughing and giggling at stories you’d been longing to tell each other for the last year. In between, there were stolen kisses; some short, and others laced with neediness. No sexual gratification would compare to the emotional connection you started to restore.

Eventually, he found himself laying between your legs, mouth exploring the spots on your neck he was aching to reunite with. Every so often, his teeth or tongue would grace over a sensitive area, pushing a breathy moan from your lips. The sounds were heavenly, ones he thought he’d never get the chance to hear again. “I want you, Josh.” You sighed, finally growing restless after the hours of relentless teasing.

“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.” He hummed against your collarbone.

“You. I don’t care, anything, please.” You sighed, not caring about the desperation. You felt him smile against you, clearly pleased with the state you were in.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, fingers ghosting over your rib cage, sending a jolt of electricity through.

“Please,” he brought the pad of his thumb to your nipple, brushing it over you. He watched as you drew in a shaky breath. If there was one thing you knew about Josh, it was that he loved viewing sex as a marathon. If you were to let him, he’d go all night, dragging it out as much as possible. Tonight, you couldn’t take it. He could tell how you were feeling without you saying it aloud, not finding it in himself to push you any further. He let his hand drift downwards, shifting his weight onto one side so he had better access to you. He slipped his fingers between your legs, running them through you and getting a feel for your arousal. Your back arched at the feeling, it was familiar yet almost foreign.

“All of this for me, pretty girl?” He asked, running your wetness up to your clit. He slowly rubbed circles, just light enough to allow you to adjust to the feeling. You muttered a curse under your breath, almost having forgotten how acquainted he was with your body. His fingers kept a steady pace, gradually applying more pressure as he continued on. His eyes remained on your face, wishing to engrave your expression into every part of his brain so he could never forget it.

As his hand explored you, his lips did, too. His mouth drifted across your exposed stomach, trailing kisses all over the skin. Eventually, he worked his way up to your breasts, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth and tongue over it, begging for a reaction. When he heard a whine fall from your lips, he closed his eyes in satisfaction. He slipped his finger down towards your entrance, moving his thumb to your clit in place. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside you, starting at an agonizingly slow pace. His thumb brushed over your clit with every pump of his fingers. The sensation was much more intense than you remembered it, maybe because of the depravity of the feeling, or because you missed him so much.

The sex was slow, much slower than it used to be. Both of you wanted to savour the experience as much as you could. But the praise, the words, even the way he worshiped you like you were the most beautiful thing to walk the earth was all the same. Neither of you allowed any of the negativity to change the way you appreciated each other. You’d been with plenty of people before Josh, but never any who loved you in the way he did. Every touch was sacred, filled with love and tenderness, even if the act wasn’t supposed to feel that way. As stupid as you felt about waiting so long for him, you were thankful you did. Nobody could make you feel the way he did. The wait just resulted in the usual pleasure being escalated by a thousand.

“Does that feel good, mama?” He asked, finally pausing his assault on your breasts. He looked up to you, eyelids heavy and lust clouding his pupils.

“So good, Josh.” You sighed, looking down to meet his gaze. He gave you a lazy smile, content at the confirmation.

“Did you miss me?” He questioned, his tone dropping slightly. He curled his fingers upward with the next movement, causing a gasp to fall from you. “Hmm?” He hummed, still waiting for you to answer.

“Missed you so much.” You admitted, eyelids fluttered closed at the pleasure he was causing.

“Think she missed me, too.” He muttered, eyes flowing down towards his hand working into your cunt. You swallowed hard at the words, taken off guard by the cockiness but knowing he was speaking truth. His jaw clenched, clearly pleased with the sight. He was good at putting his pleasure aside to ensure yours, but you knew him well enough to recognize what his expression meant. He’d been depraved of this, too, and the view was driving him insane. “Right?” He asked for clarification, his chest rising at his deep inhale.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a pressure beginning to build in your belly.

“She knows she belongs to me.” He hummed. Your face flushed at the statement, unsure where the possessiveness was coming from. That was something quite new; before, he always acted as though the access to your body was a gift. The simple statement dripped with entitlement, but you didn’t mind. He was right. No matter how much distance between you, or how much time passed, you were his. You didn’t mind the claim in the slightest. In fact, you enjoyed it.

“Fuck, Josh,” you let your head fall back on the pillows, the knot in your stomach tightening more with every second that passed.

“Yeah?” He beamed, knowing exactly what the warning was for. “Look at me, mama. Wanna see that pretty face while you cum.” He pleaded. You were in no state to deny him the request, eyes falling back on him. He was watching you, desperate to see your expression. His movements remained steady, gently coaxing the orgasm from you. Your mouth fell open slightly, a sharp inhale sounding as the pressure peaked and sent you into a down-spiral. You managed his name through the intense wave of moans, eyes squeezed shut and all of your muscles tensed. He rode you through it, whispering notes of encouragement as you were clenched around his hand.

When you relaxed against him, he let out a long breath. The tail end dissolved into a groan, absolutely floored at the sight he had just experienced. “Was that good, baby?” He asked, slowly pulling his fingers from you. You sighed at the loss of contact, still yearning for more.

“So, so good, Josh.” You didn’t mind fuelling his ego, because it was well deserved. At first, you wanted to blame the quickness of your orgasm on the length of time it had been since you had one. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t true. Josh had the ability to make you cum simply by looking at you with enough intent. It had everything to do with him, and you knew nobody else could ever affect you in the same way.

“Can’t believe you had nobody to take care of you for so long,” he let out a disapproving tsk, slowly sinking down further on the bed. “All of those New York boys really missed out.” His soft lips grazed over the inside of your thigh. “A woman like you deserves more than that.” His teeth sunk into the flesh, causing you to jump at the sudden sensation. “What was it, mama? Couldn’t find anyone to fuck you right?” Your jaw clenched at the profanity of his statement. You were well aware that he was only messing with you just for show, so you played into his game.

“Mhm,” you agreed. “Nobody could fuck me like you, Josh.” You told him, lowering your tone. The muscle in his jaw tensed at the confession.

“No?” He asked, lips dangerously close to your heat. “My poor baby.” He sympathized, his facial hair gently tickling the skin of your legs. “I’ll always treat you right, honey.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, agreeing with him.

“Y’know I’ll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Always fuck you like you just how you like it.” The teasing was torturous; you needed him more than you needed water. It wasn’t a desire, it was necessary for survival.

“I know you will, baby.” You breathed, your sultry tone quickly dissolving into whiny.

“That’s why you’ll always come home to me, right?” He asked, dipping his head even closer to your cunt. “You know who you belong to, beautiful.” You gave a nod of desperation. “Wanna hear you say it, mama.”

“You, Josh. I’m all yours. Only yours.” You promised. A smile graced his face.

“Sounds so pretty when you say it like that.” He was trying not to sound needy himself; his mouth was practically watering at the sight before him. He almost felt wrong teasing you in such a way, because he was certain he was more desperate for you than he’d ever been. “I’d treat you better than that. I’d fuck you every day if I could, just to make sure you know what you deserve. Just to make sure you were happy.” He explained, feeling his guilt resurface. You felt your heart ache at the statement, the words reminding you that as good as you felt, things weren’t the same as they used to be. He saw the emotion flash across your face, realizing how his statement may have come off in a context he didn’t intend. “I can, and I will, if you’ll let me.” He let down the act for a moment, fully letting you see into his heart.

“Yeah,” you managed to muster out. “I’d like that.” He couldn’t hold back the look of happiness that forced its way onto his face.

“Be mine again, baby. Promise I’ll make up for everything. I’ll never let you get away again.” He whispered, but he was pleading with you. There was no way he could walk away from you after this. It would kill him.

“Okay,” you agreed, no hesitation present. It wasn’t the alcohol, or the sex talking. You wanted him, and you were certain of that before you’d even spoken to him. Maybe everybody else was right, you thought. This wasn’t one of those things that you couldn’t walk away from. If you did, you’d be 80 years old and still wondering what it would be like to love him again. When it came to Josh, it was never over. Just a wrong turn that ultimately led you back to the same destination.

He let the thought settle in his soul; no more yearning for someone he wasn’t sure he would ever have again. The universe had granted him another chance, and he’d be damned if he took it for granted a second time. You were his again, and he was yours, as if that was ever untrue in the first place. He wasted no more time, slipping his arms under your thighs and pulling you down on his mouth. He let his tongue run through you, savouring the feeling and moaning against you. He was eating you as if he was a starved man offered his first meal in weeks. In his eyes, he was. Being depraved of the home he’d found between your legs was a terrible feeling, and he never wanted to feel it again.

You let a moan out, your hands snaking down to his hair. You noticed the lack of it on the sides, understanding that it would be hard to get used to. Instead of focusing on the difference, you tangled your fingers in the hair still atop his head, losing yourself to the familiarity of his tongue. You couldn’t help but admire him through the waves of pleasure, the way he got enjoyment out of making you feel good, how pretty he looked with his head nestled between your thighs. You noticed the way his hips would grind into the mattress, just enough to give him a bit of relief, or the way he was completely lost in you, not having a notice for anything other that what was in front of him. You had no doubt he would stay there forever, if you let him.

He pulled back for a moment, just to catch another look of your face. “Taste so good, baby. Even better than I remember.” He slipped his thumb in place of his tongue, just so he didn’t lose the progress he was making. “Missed having you like this. Thought about it every fucking night.”

“I thought about it too, all of the time.” You sighed, mesmerized by the emotion he adorned in his eyes. He returned his other fingers to you, pumping them in time with his thumb for a moment. He studied you for a while before he returned to work with his mouth. The combined feeling of him pumping his fingers into you, and his tongue focused on your clit was overwhelming.

You were nearing a second orgasm, desperate for him to keep going. He could sense it in your breathing, the tugs at his hair, and the profanities you were expelling every so often. He remained steady, curling his fingers every so often in attempt to find the spot inside you he knew so well. He hit a particularly sensitive spot, causing your hips to buck forward. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know he enjoyed it; a groan produced from deep in his chest, his fingers attempting to get the same reaction from you again. You closed your eyes, unable to focus on anything other than the knot tightening in your belly.

“Josh,” you breathed, a verbal warning that you were close. He hummed against you, encouraging you. Your head fell back, blissfully unaware of anything other than the feeling of his tongue. Soon after, you were coming undone again, crying his name and quickly dissolving into a mess. He coaxed you through it, more dedicated to making you feel good rather than getting the satisfaction of seeing your face.

When you came down, he didn’t ease up; his tongue was still determined, fingers never slowing. Even in the burning oversensitivity, you couldn’t help but still enjoy the moment. You were certain that after 18 long months, he could cause you nothing but physical pain and you’d still enjoy it, just because he was the one doing it. Part of you wished he never had to stop, because you never wanted to come down from the high of the intimacy. The overpowering sensation was driving you insane, the previous orgasm never really having a chance to dissipate before the next began to bloom. The noises you were making were filthy, pornographic, almost. Josh was almost praying the walls were thinner than they appeared, cocky enough to know how good he was making you feel and egotistical enough to want everyone to know it.

When your third orgasm was begging you to let go, you couldn’t even get the words out to warn him. Your knuckles were white against the hold on his hair, all of your muscles rigid and lungs aching for a full breath. It took little time for you to reach your peak, panting heavily and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. This time, he slowed his movements as your body relaxed. He removed his tongue first, followed by his fingers once he knew you were back to earth. “There you go, mama.” He sighed. His lips ghosted over your torso as he inched his way up your body. “That’s all you needed, hmm?” He hummed, sucking a few marks into your collarbone. “Someone to take care of you,” his head nuzzled back into the crook of your neck, mouth exploring the area once again. “Someone who knows how to make you feel good?” His moustache tickled the sensitive skin, causing a tired giggle to fall from you. You could feel him smile against you in response to the sound.

“I want you, Josh.” You said. As fantastic as he was making you feel, your patience was non-existent. It had been too long since you’d had him, and you didn’t feel willing to wait any longer. He lifted his head from your neck, eyes scanning your face for a moment. His lips upturned into a smirk, likely feeling similar.

“You want me?” He whispered, already shifting between your legs for a better position. You gave him a nod. “How bad, beautiful?”

“So bad, baby. It’s been so long.” You admitted, not willing to challenge him in the slightest. His fingers gently grazed over your hips, a moment of innocent love before such a dirty act. He pulled you towards him, grabbing your legs and guiding them over his shoulders. The excitement brewing in your stomach was barely containable.

“Been so good for me, mama. Won’t make you wait any longer.” He promised. You felt his hand leave you, moving down to guide himself towards your entrance. Without another word, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling at peace with each other. The battle of experiencing so much pent up love with nowhere to channel it had come to an end; the solution to the issue being clear the whole time, but only now was it truly acknowledged. You needed each other, and no distance would change that. There was no separation or heartbreak big enough to rid yourselves of the connection you had. You both knew that before the night dissolved into the current situation, but it was only solidified further once you both felt what it was like to be reunited in such a way. There was no way you could walk away from each other again.

His hips moved slowly, the only motive being the need to feel the closeness. The movements were barely stimulating, but more than pleasurable to you both. “God, y/n.” He hissed, sucking in a long breath through his teeth. He pulled you closer to him by your thighs, thrusting as he did so and causing a gasp from you. “Feel so fucking good.” He picked up the pace, realizing he was only torturing you both. The memory of him inside you was nothing in comparison to the real thing. The angle allowed the tip of his cock to brush your cervix, sending a jolt of electricity through you each time. “Wish I could have you like this forever.”

“Me, too.” You groaned, your hand reaching out in desperation for his. He met your gesture, pulling your hand into his and resting them on your thigh. His eyes were closed, intently focusing on his movements, making sure he kept a steady rhythm. The low light of the lamp was casted over his face, allowing you to really admire his beauty. The slight furrow of his eyebrows, the tension in his jaw as he fucked into you, his lips that always looked so soft and inviting. He was a masterpiece, and you felt lucky to even be able to experience him in such a way. His free hand found your breast, at first just a gentle acknowledgment, but then he took your nipple between his fingers and applied a bit of pressure. The shock lit up your face, causing him to give you a small smirk. As much as he loved to please you, he loved to be an asshole, too.

It was all in the nature of the relationship; the time that passed didn’t change the dynamic. You both still seemed to be on the same wavelength, remembering what the other liked, incorporating small humorous expressions and actions to lighten the intensity. You were grateful that he was still so familiar to you. It took the nervousness away, and made sex feel lighthearted and carefree. There was never a worry of embarrassment or fear of judgement. He was your best friend, still, after everything, and he was making sure you knew that. The same goofy, sweet boy from the beginning.

You could tell he was growing bored with the position. As much as he loved the feeling, you knew what he wanted, and you were fully willing to give it to him. “Lay down,” you told him. His eyes connected with yours, an unspoken question of certainty. You gave a nod, and he didn’t wasn’t any time pulling out of you. He collapsed onto the bed beside you, turning towards you and practically pulling you on top of him. He had a grin plastered across his face, cheeks a bit rosy and eyelids heavy.

“You know me so well.” He said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“You act like you’re the only one who enjoys this position.” You rolled your eyes.

“I know you do, but I really like it.” His excitement was clear in his face. You couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Yeah, ‘cause you don’t have to do any work.” You joked, securing your legs on either side of him. You lifted yourself up, reaching down to guide him back into you.

“No, ‘cause you look so pretty on top of me.” He answered, tone of voice matching yours. His hands found your hips, slowly bringing you down on him. “I’d be happy to do the work as long as I get to see you like this.” You couldn’t find the words to reply, already lost in the new position, revelling in the angle and depth he was reaching inside you. You began to roll your hips on him, slowly catching up to speed. “Oh, and because I can do this, now.” He reached around, pinching your ass between his index finger and his thumb. Your eyes widened, giving him a look of bewilderment. He gave a chuckle, keeping his hand there and gently running his thumb over the spot he’d just hurt.

“Not being very nice to someone who’s trying to get you off,” you grumbled. He erupted into a real laugh, giving his head a small shake.

“Don’t have to try very hard, mama. Never did.” He joked, but there was a hint of truth to the statement. “But, I suppose I could be a little nicer. Since you’re being so good to me.” He brought his free hand up to your cheek, brushing the hair from your face. You leaned into his palm, closing your eyes in content. You were still moving your hips, just enough to satisfy the craving while he joked with you. It felt so natural, so familiar. It felt like home.

“You’ll be nice for a while, then you’ll do something to piss me off again. It’s just what you do.” You giggled, remembering his constant antics to get on your nerves. It was intolerable by times, but always in the most loving and sincere way possible.

“You love me.” He stated, in a completely relaxed, natural way. Your breath caught in your throat at the word, surprised that it made an appearance again so soon. He said it as if he’d never stopped saying it in the first place. He finally noticed what he said, expression losing its humour almost instantly. “I hope you do, at least.” He mumbled.

“I do,” you whispered, nodding your head. “I really do.” You were overcome with emotion, swallowing back the tears begging to be shed at the statement. The high intensity of the emotions in the room were unimaginable, and they hadn’t subsided all night. A small smile graced his lips as a laugh filled with relief sounded from him.

“God, it’s been so long since I’ve heard you say that.” He guided your head down, connecting your mouths in a gesture of gratitude. “Too long.” He mumbled against your lips. You pulled back just enough to speak clearly.

“I’ll say it again, if you really want me to.” You grinned.

“Please, baby.” He begged, wanting to hear the actual words.

“I love you,” you breathed, happy to finally be able to tell him again.

“I love you.” He replied, bringing you into another kiss, much more desperate than the last. As he did so, he suddenly seemed to remember where you were and what you were in the middle of. Without breaking away from you, he thrusted upwards with force. The impact caused you to let a moan slip into his mouth, only fuelling him further. You raised your hips slightly, allowing him to move with ease. He took it as an invitation, repeating his earlier action and continuing with a steady pace.

You parted with him, catching your breath. You straightened up, placing a hand on his chest to support your balance as he fucked you. You let out a slur of curses, indirect praise for the work he was doing. You moved your hips in time with his, greedy for more. He dropped his hands back to your waist, fingers gripping at the flesh like he’d gone feral. As much as you liked to tease him, you liked the position just as much as he did. There was something that drove you crazy about him under you, the freedom of his hands in which he used expertly. Plus, the pleasure he got from it fuelled yours, too. You were certain you could spend the rest of your life doing nothing but pleasing him and be happy while doing it.

His hips stuttered and he let out a low groan, the telltale sign he was getting close. It had been a long time for both of you, the stamina barely existing on either part. He held you still, wordlessly telling you to slow down. You fought against the hold, not caring if he came or not. In fact, you were hoping he would. He’d been generous in the orgasm department with you, and you were eager to do the same for him. “Slow down, mama.” He warned.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

“Don’t want it to be over yet.” He admitted, catching your gaze.

“S’okay, baby.” You repeated. “I have this room all weekend.” He eyed you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, like he was already thinking about the luxury of fucking you again. Like he was making a list of how many places around the room he could have you in. In a split-second decision, his fingers shot to your clit, finding it without any issue.

“Gotta cum with me, then. You know the rules.” He ordered. You have a nod, a hum of pleasure sounding straight from your chest. He stopped your movements, allowing him to set the pace and ensuring his hand didn’t slip from you, either. You locked your hips in place, fully allowing him to do as he pleased with you.

You both knew it wouldn’t take long; the joys of knowing each other so well meant that you knew exactly what to do. He kept his movement steady and consistent, uttering small praise as you allowed him to work at you. The noises falling from your lips graced his ears and settled deep in his chest, begging him to never forget them. “Look at me,” he wanted to sound authoritative, but he was nowhere close to it. Still, you obliged. You caught his eyes, finding yourself lost in them as soon as you did. “Come on, mama. Cum for me.” He begged, both of you knowing he couldn’t last much longer. The intensity grew with each second that passed, your head spinning with pleasure.

“M’gonna,” you moaned, promising to fulfill his request. He let out a groan, the end dissolving into a bit of a growl. The sound alone seemed to be enough to do it for you. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, your climax hitting you hard. You kept a steady hold on his chest, your other hand reaching for his arm for support. He didn’t have the ability to coax you through it; his cock twitched inside you, the sight of you coming undone sending him over the edge. He held you down on him as he spilled his release into you.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned, fingers digging into your hips with a promise of lasting bruises. When he came back down from the high, you were both breathless and seeing stars. He released his grip on you, guiding you down to lay on him. “My beautiful girl,” he sighed, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much.” You confessed, focusing on the drum of his heartbeat against his chest.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He admitted, letting his fingers run through your hair. He sounded tired, enveloped in comfort and peace. “I thought about you every day. You never left my mind.”

“I’m sorry I left, Josh. I didn’t want to leave you. Especially like that.”

“I know, mama. I’m sorry for trying to make you stay. It wasn’t fair. I should have supported you no matter what.” He gently scratched your head. You closed your eyes, fully immersed in the intimacy. “I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I was lucky enough to get a second chance, and I want to do it right, this time.”

“Me, too.” You agreed. “I never want to lose you again. It was a horrible year without you. Yeah, I did great stuff, made a name for myself, but it didn’t really mean a whole lot without someone to share the excitement with. Everybody was talking about me, but I had nobody to talk to. It was lonely without my best friend.”

“I know what you mean. Great things happened, I’m proud of what we accomplished, but I just wanted to be able to come home and tell you all about it. Every time I realized I couldn’t, it all just lost its shine.” You smiled at the statement, thinking he worded it perfectly. Life was fine without Josh, survivable in the least, but he made everything shine. He gave everything just a little bit more novelty. It was dull without him. Lacklustre, even. “Was it too soon to say I love you again?” He asked, finally airing out his anxiety.

“I think I was shocked, hearing it again after so long, but I don’t think it was wrong to say it. We never really stopped being in love; all of it was still there, it just had nowhere to go. If anything, I’m happy you still feel that way, too. Made me feel less stupid.” He didn’t respond, but you could practically feel him smiling. “You never moved out of the apartment?” You remembered he had said it earlier, but you wanted to clarify that you’d heard him right.

“No. Never changed it, either. There’s still shampoo bottles in the shower that belong to you, clothes in the closet, our pictures on the wall. I think I always hoped you’d come back home. Wanted you to know it was still yours, if you ever did.” Your heart ached at his words. You’d both been so stupid, suffering for so long that you both forced yourself to believe you’d forgotten about each other. “And it is. I mean, still yours, if you ever want to come back.” His free hand drifted over your back, fingertips gently ticking the exposed skin. “I know you have a career in New York, and I understand if you can’t, or you don’t want to. If you ever do want to, or change your mind, I’d be more than happy.”

“Thank you,” you wanted to express it in the most sincere way possible. The knowledge that he still wanted you there with him was extremely comforting. You didn’t mind the idea, either.

“But, for now, I’m happy to fly out and see you whenever I can. I’ll call every night, just like I should have from the beginning. I’ll never let you think I forgot about you ever again, or that I don’t believe in you, because neither of those are true.” You placed a kiss to his chest, finally feeling ready to tell him the news. You would have, anyway, but knowing he was willing to make it work even if you lived so far away made it impossible not to tell him.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could give me my key back.” You grinned. His lax stature immediately changed, pulling back just so he could look to see if you were joking. “Now that the line is releasing, and the outlet store is opening here, I’m gonna be in Nashville for a while. On and off, sometimes, but here for the foreseeable future, at least.” The look on his face made it seem like you’d just told him he won the lottery. “I was kind of dreading staying in a hotel, or having to hunt for another lonely apartment.”

“Are you serious?” He asked, still catching up to speed.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’d really like to come home, Josh. If that’s what you want, of course.” You felt that the need to go through the motions of dating again were quite silly, especially since you’d spent most of your adult life with him. The brief pause when you were gone didn’t really mean too much. You’d both changed, but clearly not enough to become anything close to strangers.

“Of course I do!” He wrapped you up in a hug, holding you like he’d never get the chance to, again. You both dissolved into a fit of giggles, excited at the idea of building a life together, again.

“I know you have to tour, and that’s okay. I’ll have to be in New York sometimes, too. I can come visit you, wherever you are. If you get some free time, you can come see me, or we can meet in the middle. I don’t care where that is, because if I’m with you, I’m home.” If it was possible to hold you tighter, he did just that. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, words muffled due to his face being buried in your hair. “So much, mama.”

“I do think we should probably get cleaned up, though.” You eased into the idea, realizing the state you were both still in.

“A shower?” He asked, hidden implications written all over the question.

“Sure,” you laughed, sitting upright. “But we should do it, like now.”

You both made your way into the bathroom, getting in the shower and cleaning yourselves off. The night turned into the early hours of the morning, but sleep refused to come to either of you. You were too caught up in the stories, the jokes, and the touches, and the sex to care about anything else. More than anything, you were both just content finally being back in each others company. The sunrise barely put a damper on your night of reunion, because you were too immersed in each other to notice it. Too immersed in the overwhelming feeling of finally being at home after an unexplainably long, tiresome day.

#greta van fleet #danny gvf #gvf #jake kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam kiszka #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka angst #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf imagine #gvf x reader #josh kiszka x reader #gvf fluff #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #my writing #mine #builtbybrokenbells #writing

[sissylittlefeather]

A/N: Ha HA! Another one done! This is the 68 Special one that I promised y'all after the poll. It goes with my series that is currently unnamed, but includes Baby, What's Your Name, Goodnight, Sweetheart and Always, Honey. There are references to all three in here. It takes place before What Kind of Question is That? and Feels Like Forever. This is angstyyy, but the way the story is in my brain, the mid section is that way and the whole story is kind of tragic, in a way. It's very Catherine/Heathcliff (they should be together but can't be for some reason). I didn't set out to write a tragic story, but there ya go. It is what it is. I hope y'all like it anyway!

Also, don't be shy. Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you 😁

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, kissing, ANGST

Also, I'm using Elvis gifs for this one because I like actual EP here, but if it makes you happy to imagine Austin!Elvis, do you boo-boo.

I Missed You

It's been over 3 years since you last saw Elvis. This is the longest you've been apart since you met all those years ago. You haven't seen him since he got married or became a father. He did all of those things without you and it nearly broke you. Still, you'd had your own marriage happen and fall apart, too. You wondered if you'd ever tell him that it was because of him and the fact that you never could seem to stop loving him.

The year is 1968 and you just got off the phone with a friend of yours who works in Hollywood. According to her, Elvis is going to be recording a new show soon and they're looking for audience members. She called to see if you might be interested in seeing an old friend.

No one really knows what you had with Elvis. Well, no one but your old roommate. Still, despite your long history, he never made you public like his other girlfriends. Maybe it's because keeping you a secret made the romance hotter. Or maybe it's because keeping you a secret meant he could keep you all to himself. Either way, your love affair had always been something that only the two of you really knew about.

But an opportunity to see Elvis again is hard to turn down, even with everything that's happened between you. Perhaps seeing him one last time will give you the closure you need to move on. You decide to call your friend back and see what you need to do to be in that audience.

******

Now that you're here, you start to wonder if this was a good idea. You're sitting in the audience in your new mod-style pink gingham dress with white boots and a white headband. You wonder if he will even see you in the crowd. Will he notice the pink gingham?

Your hands are starting to sweat and you wipe them on your skirt, pulling on it to try to get it to cover more of your thighs. You're not a teenager anymore and this dress is starting to feel a bit ridiculous.

One of the producers of the show comes out to explain to the audience how to react to the "applause" signs. Elvis is coming out soon and you're starting to feel a little sick at the prospect of seeing him. You don't remember the last time you were this nervous.

And then he's there. On the small square stage, right in front of you, in black leather. Your heart jumps and your warm center gets a little warmer. He looks good. Not that you expected him not to, but he looks better than you could've imagined. He breaks into That's Alright Mama and you're instantly transported back to that first show where you threw your panties on the stage to get his attention. You start to laugh a little thinking about what might happen if you did the same thing right now. You'd probably get carried out by a security guard.

He sings 4 songs and then they do a set change to him sitting down with his old band mates for a kind of casual jam session. You're still waiting for him to notice that you're there. Part of you is starting to hope that he'll never notice and you can just slink back onto a plane and go home. Seeing him has enlivened every feeling you've ever had for him and you can't help but have flashbacks to every time he's ever touched you. You long to feel his strong hands on your body, his lips on yours, his fingers and tongue doing unspeakable things between your legs. You squeeze your legs together and pray that you're not going to leave a puddle on your seat.

And then it happens. He's walking around the stage singing again and he kneels just feet from you. You're in the second row, far enough back to be out of reach, but close enough to be visible. He looks out into the audience and your eyes meet. Ever the professional performer, he only freezes for a second when he sees you. You feel like someone dumped ice water down your back and it's suddenly hard to breathe. You want to get up and run out, but you can't. And just when you think he's completely unaffected by you, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he stands up, turns away from you, and keeps singing.

But he comes back.

He walks around the stage like he's supposed to, but he always comes back to you and keeps his eyes locked onto yours for as long as possible before he has to move. Every time it happens, your heart skips a beat and you start to wonder how much more you can take. Just when you think you might melt from the intensity of his gaze, he leaves the stage and the producer comes back and says that filming is done for the day.

You sit there for a while and let the other people around you file out. Eventually you get up and head for the exit. You're one of the last people in the room as you head for the door. And then you hear someone behind you. You turn, expecting someone to tell you that you need to leave, but no.

It's him.

You stand and stare at each other for a good minute before he speaks. He asks a single question.

"Where can I find you later?"

You want to tell him to go to hell. Instead, you hear yourself say, "Hollywood Hilton, room 647."

He nods, turns, and jogs away from you back to wherever he came from. A man comes and ushers you out the exit door. You head back to your hotel in disbelief. You're not sure what you expected, but it wasn't that.

******

You're trying really hard to stop pacing in your hotel room. The clock on the night stand says 12:24am. You're still wearing the pink and white dress, mainly because you're too nervous to change into anything else, but you're barefooted now, your boots in a pile by the door. You tell yourself you are giving him until 1am and then you're going to bed. That's when you hear the knock on your door.

Your stomach tenses up and your heart jumps into your throat. You walk to the door and open it carefully. Elvis walks in quickly and closes it behind himself. You're reminded of the time he did that when you lived in the dorm and you almost laugh out loud.

"Who are you hiding from?"

"Everyone." He looks at you like no time has passed since the last time you were alone like this. He puts his hand on the side of your face and for a moment you let him. Then you move away from him.

"Don't."

"Honey, why--"

"You have a wife."

"And you have a husband. Never stopped us before."

"I don't have a husband anymore."

"All the more reason--"

"You married her, Elvis." He looks down at the floor.

"She has your baby. You're somebody's father."

"I know that."

"Then why did you come here?" He picks up your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, just like he did so many years before.

"I missed you." You want to take that hand and slap him with it. For a second, you really consider it. Instead, you pull it away from him and turn to face the window. If you look at him, you might give in.

He comes up behind you and touches your dress on your shoulder.

"You know I've always loved you in pink."

"It matches--"

"--the dress you wore on the first night. I remember."

That almost convinces you to turn around, but instead you shake his hand off your shoulder. You can't turn around. Not yet.

"Elvis, we said this was over."

"We've said that before."

"Yeah, but last time I thought we meant it."

He walks around in front of you and faces you. He seems afraid to touch you again.

"Baby, you know I could never mean it."

You cross your arms over your chest and look up at him. He looks different now, grown up and fully himself, but he's still the same boy from Memphis who said he would always be yours.

"No. Go home to your wife, Elvis."

You can see in his eyes that that stung. You immediately wish you hadn't said it, but you did and it wasn't untrue. He does have a wife to go home to and you have what? No one because you can't seem to move on from him. He's as much a part of you as you are of him.

"You know what you mean to me." You do know. But sometimes you just wish he would say the words.

You walk past him to the hotel room window and look out at the street below. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but this town could give it a run for its money. There seems to be people everywhere. He speaks again, ripping you out of your reverie.

"You know, I could ask you the same question. Why did you come to my show?" You step back from the window and look up at the ceiling. That, you don't have an answer for. You're not even sure why you came. It's no use lying to him or yourself anymore. You turn to face him with tears in your eyes.

"I missed you."

It only takes him three steps to walk across the room and pull you into a deep and passionate kiss, his arms around you to keep you from pulling away. You know you should pull away, but you don't even try. You melt into him like snow in the rain, your mouths picking up a rhythm easily. Kissing him is familiar and satisfying and you begin to wonder why you ever stopped. You wrap your arms around his neck and let yourself get lost in him. He walks you backwards to the dresser and then lifts you up so that you're sitting on it. He runs both hands up your thighs and then grabs your hips, pulling them into his own. You break the kiss and moan softly into his mouth as you feel his hardness press into you. In a second, he has the dress up, over your head, and off. Your fingers shake as you undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off of his shoulders with his jacket, letting them both fall to the floor. The whole time, he's kissing you on the neck, on your chest, and shoulder, and jawline, and lips. It almost feels like he's trying to devour you whole. In fact, he bites the skin next to your collarbone at one point hard enough that you let out a small yelp. He knows you well enough to know that's a good sound. You grab the back of his hair and pull his head backward, diving into a deep kiss with heavy tongue. He almost breaks your bra, trying to rip it off of you and your panties don't stand a chance as he tears at them and throws them to the side. The button pops off of his pants as you feverishly try to get them off of him. He slides them off his hips and to the floor, letting his erection free to land against your thigh. The sight and feel of it there elicits a moan from your mouth and a good deal of wetness from between your legs. He pulls you to the edge of the dresser and pushes himself inside you. He slams into you heatedly and you both start to sweat. You can feel your climax building around him as he pumps. He's still kissing you all over your face and neck, dipping his tongue into your mouth periodically. Your hands grip his back as your fingernails dig into his skin. As many times as you've been together, it's never felt like this before. There's a desperation and need in both of you that's completely new. You wrap your legs around him and he carries you to the bed, still inside of you. You fuck for a while with him on top of you, until you push him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Then, you turn away from him and lower yourself onto him, holding onto his thighs for support. While you slide up and down on him, he reaches forward and makes circles with his finger on the spot between your legs that makes you cry out his name.

"Elvis, fuck!" You scream as your climax pounds into you from every angle, rushing through you from your center to your edges and back again. You turn around and push him back onto the bed. He moves himself backwards until he's fully on the bed and you can ride him easily. You're grinding your hips against him, so that he is so deep inside of you. Nothing seems to be deep enough to satisfy you tonight. You want to swallow him up and keep him there inside you. He moans and grunts while you work, obviously approaching his climax. He flips you over one last time and thrusts into you a few times before he shudders and cusses and fills you with his warmth. You're both dripping wet with sweat and covered in marks from the other's teeth and fingernails. He rolls over off of you and lays next to you, both of you breathing heavily. He picks up your hand and kisses your fingers.

"Oh, honey, I have missed you so much." He smiles at you and holds your hand on his chest. You get up and go to the bathroom, trying to forget that you just committed adultery with him. Again. When you come back, you get some panties out of your suitcase and put them on. Then, you climb back into bed, where he's arranged himself as if he's going to sleep there.

"Don't you... have to... go?" You ask tentatively. You think of his wife, probably pacing her room waiting for him to come home.

"No." He doesn't give any more detail and you don't ask. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close to him. "I'm staying here." He kisses the side of your head.

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you again. This won't be the last time you're together.

He waits until he thinks you're asleep, and you almost are, when he whispers,

"I love you, baby."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

#elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvis #elvisaaronpresley #austin elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #60s elvis #elvis presely smut #elvis fandom #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #austin!elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis presley smut #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n

[munsons-maiden]

𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

This is funny and filthy and my intention was to capture Thor 2 Loki in this 😁. I hope you enjoy! Love - Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Loki x female reader   

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Loki wants you to be his. Everything of you. What he doesn’t know is that your heart is already his - but it won’t hurt to let him work for it, right? Though when the two of you are sent on an undercover mission together, it becomes obvious that Loki’s patience in this little game of cat and mouse is wearing thin - as is your own. And Loki wouldn't be the God of Mischief if he didn't have an ace up his sleeve to finally win your heart and put your poker face to the test in a whole new way. (Takes place before Age of Ultron)

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | humor, bantering, smut  

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 |  9 k 

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (PLEASE ONLY READ IF YOU’RE 18+ YEARS OLD!), unprotected sex (please be safe in real life!), vaginal fingering, public/semi-public sex, oral (f! receiving), improper use of telepathy, voyeurism, masturbation, vibrators (it’s getting filthy y’all 😁) 

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡  

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝    🖤 

This can be read as a sequel to the oneshot For Your Love, which you can read HERE if you like, but it can just as well be read as a oneshot on its own.

You were roused by sunlight tickling your nose, having forgotten to close the blinds on your windows before you’d went to bed, and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as your thoughts wandered to the events of last night, to your encounter with Loki at Tony’s party…and everything that had followed.

To the things Loki had whispered in your ear while the two of you had danced, how his fingers had wandered up your thighs. To what you’d let him do with his elegant hands, hidden beneath the fabric of your skirt.

“I want you to be mine,” Loki had whispered to you as he’d made you unravel on his hands, had summoned his name from your parted lips on a broken cry of bliss, “I want it to be my name falling from your lips when you laugh, and my name to call out for when you’re in need of help. And I want it to be my name you cry out when you come undone.”

“What are you willing to do for it?”, you had inquired.

“For your love? Everything you ask of me.”

“If you want my love, you’ll have to earn it, my king.”

You could have told him, then and there, that your heart already belonged to him. That you’d fallen in love with him a while ago already – but Loki was the God of Lies and Tricks for a reason. If he really wanted your heart and your trust, he would have to earn them. Despite…this thrilling little game of cat and mouse had only just begun, and you wanted to keep playing it for a little while longer.

So you hadn’t tasted his kisses like you’d wanted to do, and you hadn’t told him about your feelings. Instead, you’d given him a seductive little wink before you’d walked away, leaving him behind on the dance floor, his gaze burning at your back and without turning around to glance at him, you knew the devious smile you’d fallen so hard for was playing on his lips.

Yes, Loki had no clue that your heart was already his, and it was certainly more fun that way – letting him court you properly, letting him work for the love you were ready to bestow on him. He wanted everything of you, that much he’d made clear – and you wanted to give him everything. Your heart, your soul, and your body.

When you’d decided to keep him in suspense a bit longer until you finally allowed yourself to give in, you knew the trickster would have his patience tested. You’d never have guessed, though, how much of a test of your own patience it would be, and you found yourself already burning up with desire for the trickster, a desire which hadn’t been quenched by his touches on the dance floor but instead had been stoked into roaring, hungry flames; a ravenous need only he could sate.

As you now opened the door to your room, dressed and ready to grab something for breakfast in the shared kitchen of the new Avengers headquarters, your eyes fell on the single flower placed on the polished wooden floorboards in front of your door. It was an aster. A frost flower. Tracing the delicate blue petals, you couldn’t help but smile at the implication – and the meaning of the flower. They were used as a symbol of patience.

***

Being courted by Loki was, as you quickly realized, something else.

The flower you found the morning after the party was the first in a row of gifts Loki left on your doorstep for you to find in the mornings, gifts which revealed that he knew more about you than you’d have thought – bouquets of the most vibrant of your favourite flowers, cups of your favourite coffee from the little café at the city centre which left you wondering how he even got them; stunning editions of your favourite books and new ones you fell in love with. They showed how much Loki had already paid attention to you in the months since he’d joined the Avengers, how much he’d noticed about the little things which brightened your day. You had already fallen in love with him, but in the days after the party, you could feel yourself falling even deeper and harder for the raven-haired trickster with the mischievously twinkling ocean eyes that always lingered a little longer on you whenever the two of you were in the same room, the smirk which told you he was thinking about that night on the dance floor as often as you did, a smirk which promised so much more. You hadn’t pegged the trickster as a romantic at heart, but with every gift, you felt the need to reassess the picture you had formed of him in your mind.  

In front of your teammates, neither of you let show what had happened between the two of you – you and Loki went back to the easy bickering and flirting you used to communicate. But the memory of that night on the dance floor, every sweet nothing he’d whispered to you while pleasuring you with his hands, was an omnipresent thought in your mind, and it didn’t help at all to keep your self-control, at least for a while longer.

To your own surprise, the trickster never started a new advance, neither to touch you like he had at the party, nor to finally kiss you. His gaze, though, whenever your eyes met his, told you exactly what he wanted to do, that the thoughts occupying his mind were as sinful and exhilarating as your own.

A part of you was happy that he was true to his word in proving his intention to conquer your heart and earn your trust, just as you’d told him to; that he showed you he wanted you in every way, not only in his bed – but it didn’t change the fact how much you wanted to be in his bed.

Patience, you reminded yourself. Let him work for it.

It had been a few weeks now, and tonight, you and Loki would be on an undercover mission together. The two of you had been chosen for the job since you both hadn’t been introduced as Avengers to the public yet, which meant nobody knew you. The mission itself was simple: pose as informants trying to establish themselves in the world of criminals and mob bosses, play poker at a shady backroom in a luxurious hotel, and glean information on weapon deals and names while feigning interest to extend your network. Nothing big.

When you got ready that night, your dress – short and revealing enough to surely draw a few gazes but still elegant enough to fit into the ambience a luxurious hotel – something appeared on your bed in a flash of green. A black box, wrapped with a green ribbon. Your smile morphed into an incredulous expression as you untied the ribbon and lifted the box’s lid. There, nestled on green tissue paper matching the ribbon, was a set of lingerie. And a note, written in a cursive, elegant handwriting you’d come to recognize all too well over the past weeks.

See you tonight, darling.

“Sleek rascal,” you muttered to yourself while you marvelled at the black lace of the matching bra and panties, delicate as the pattern of veins adorning a moth’s wing. Underwear which truly didn’t leave much to the imagination – and which, upon trying it on in front of your mirror, hugged your form perfectly. It was surprisingly comfortable as well.

The question was…should you wear it tonight? The two of you were only visiting the hotel – it was nearby, near enough to return home after your mission had succeeded. Giving you underwear sent a clear message. Wearing that underwear did as well.

Though…if Loki kept teasing you, so could you. You decided to wear the lingerie tonight.

***

“You look ravishing, darling” Loki greeted as he held open the door of the sleek black which had brought you to the hotel as part of your disguise, where Loki was already waiting. Looking stunning himself, clad in a black suit with his immaculate raven hair framing his handsome features and spilling onto his shoulders like ink.

“So do you. But judging by the self-satisfied grin you’re wearing, you already know that,” you replied with a grin as you linked your arm with his offered one.

“Okay, let’s just quickly recount the briefing,” you proposed as you took in the imposing building of the hotel looming in front of you, with its white stone pillars that flanked the golden entrance doors which were held open by porters clad in immaculate crimson uniforms. It felt a little like stepping into the glorious days of Hollywood in the golden twenties.

“Briefing?”, Loki inquired, and your eyes snapped back to his.

“They briefed you, didn’t they?”, you blurted, gaping at Loki who only shrugged.

“They did, but it was boring. I stopped listening halfway through.”

“You’re making me go crazy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Just like everything else,” you huffed.

“It’s called positivity,” Loki winked, “You should try it some time.”

“Not my cup of tea”, you quipped before your tone turned serious. “We’re supposed to meet a guy called Ulysseus Klaue.”

“Tell me that’s not his real name.”

“Well, nobody knows his real name. It’s an alias. He’ll be waiting for us with a few of his henchmen, I suppose, and I’m being told he loves to talk business during a match of poker.”

“So many clichés in one sentence,” Loki assessed.

“His main business is selling weapons to terrorist organizations, but he has a knack for selling stolen vibranium as well. All we need to do is give him our fake information about this storage of vibranium and get a few names in return.”

“Well, I’m just here for the game.”

You tilted your head, shooting him a scrutinizing glance. “I wasn’t aware you could play poker.”

Loki gave you a look of feigned hurt before he replied, “Who says I was talking about poker? But yes. I’m perfectly capable to play every game where there’s a prize waiting for me at the end.”

“I bet it’s a pleasure to play Monopoly with you,” you deadpanned, ignoring his well-placed insinuation, and together, you strolled through the opulent lobby – a hall with pillars of marble and oil paintings adorning the high walls, tinted in the golden glow of a dozen sparkling chandeliers – and towards the rows of elevators which would bring the two of you down to the casino on the lower levels.

“Well, then let’s just bask in each other’s ridiculously good looks, shall we?”, Loki retorted while you let your gaze roam over the resplendent interior of the place, before you asked, “Does this look a little like the palace in Asgard?”

Loki chuckled. “This place is a broom closet compared to the magnificence of the Asgardian palace.”

“Apologies for the offense, your majesty,” you quipped with a mock-curtsy as you threw the trickster a sideways glance, and he gave you a disarming smile in reply before he hummed, “You don’t have to be so formal. My king is wholly sufficient to address me for tonight.”

How did he manage to turn every single sentence into a flirtation that made heat creep into your cheeks? Was it the way he drawled the words in this smooth velvet voice of his, or was it your own mind twisting the meaning of innocent words in your desire for him?

“I don’t know why you spent so much time trying to get your hands on the Tesseract when you could just have floated up to space on your inflated ego instead,” you retorted, not letting on how flustered he made you feel already, before the two of you stepped into the elevator which would bring you to the hotel’s casino to meet the targets of your mission. The interior of the car was as fancy as the rest of the hotel, with a gold-framed mirror covering the span of the wall opposite the doors while the rest of the floor and walls was covered in white marble as well.

“I wonder how the rooms look like, if that’s only the elevator,” you mused, and Loki snickered.

“Don’t say it,” you chided.

“I don’t know what you’re implying. Did you get my gift, by the way?”, Loki purred, his voice like claws gently raking down your spine.

“I did, indeed.”

“Does it fit you well?”

“Who says I already tried it on? Let me guess, your next question is whether I chose to wear it tonight”, you taunted while the golden doors slid close behind the two of you with a soft whoosh before the elevator began to move downwards.

Loki’s smirk grew devious before he leaned closer to you, so close that his raven strands tickled over the exposed skin on your shoulder, and cooed, “Only one way to find out, darling.”

“We have a mission to complete. Keep your naughty thoughts to yourself, will you?”

“Only my thoughts?”, Loki inquired with a seductive tone that made your breath hitch, “What about my hands? You seemed to be rather fond of my hands not so long ago.”

With his words which seeped into your thoughts like the sweetest honey, he didn’t even have to use his hands to make your mind spin and arousal course through your veins like a drug. And he knew it damn well.

“How about you?”, you asked sweetly, preparing for a counterattack. “Do you think about your hands under my skirt often? Imagining what else you could do with me?”

“All the time, darling,” Loki rasped in your ear just as the elevator doors slid open with a ping, and heat shot through your body.

“You should take a deep breath to steady yourself,” he announced, leaving you a little disappointed when he took a step away from you and brushed an imaginary lint from the lapel of his pristine suit while he caught your gaze in the elevator car’s mirror, “You seem a little flustered. We wouldn’t want you to lose your focus.”

You laughed with your eyes pointedly fixed on the sea of blinking lights emitted by the gambling machines throughout the casino’s space in front of you – a perfect reflection of the lobby above, only that the marble on floor and walls down here was black instead of white, giving the whole space a mysterious atmosphere. “It takes a lot more to steal my focus than a few suggestive sentences, darling.” You purred the pet name, echoing Loki’s seductive tone, and the expression of glee on his handsome features made you wonder what else the trickster had in store for tonight.

“Ready?”, Loki asked.

“Ready when you are.”

***

The two of you were granted access to one of the many elegant backrooms of the casino. The three men who’d already been waiting for your and Loki’s arrival – Klaue and two of his henchmen – nodded their greetings, and you felt as if you’d stepped right onto the set of a mafia movie. It was ridiculous how the criminal’s cronies had seemingly taken great efforts to meet every single cliché that came to mind when thinking of high-profile criminals and mob bosses. Glinting golden rings, expensive watches adorning their wrists, and one of them, a sleazy guy who couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from your generous cleavage, even had a red rose pinned to his lapel.

Klaue himself was dressed way less fancy in a simple grey suit, and you could see malice gleam in his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand in greeting, leaving you to suppress the disgusted scowl which threatened to etch itself on your features.

“So, you’re interested in forging new business connections,” he queried while gesturing for you and Loki to take your seats at the poker table in the middle of the room, below another chandelier, its crystals artfully crafted to make it look as if it had frozen over, and you gave a curt nod, careful to keep your face trained in an expression somewhere between indifference and boredom.

“We are.”

You took a seat at the poker table opposite of Loki.

Klaue’s gaze flitted to the trickster, scrutinizing him for a split second, and you suppressed a grin at the threatening gleam in Loki’s stunning eyes as he held the criminal’s gaze.

“First things first,” Klaue announced with a benevolent smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I think we all know that trust isn’t something associated in our line of business,” you replied, “You’ve got something we want, and we’ve got something you want. So let’s stop pretending to be something we’re not and start talking business, shall we?”

Klaue laughed. “Not just a pretty face, I see. Until now, I though you were merely his company for the night. Now I wonder if it isn’t vice versa.”

Loki chuckled. “I don’t see how our relations are any of your business.”

Klaue’s face turned steely. “I might have declared my interest.”

“I’m flattered, but you’re not my type,” Loki deadpanned, and this time, you couldn’t hold back your little snicker upon seeing Klaue’s face darkening, just as the wooden double doors opened for one of the waiters to bring in a tray of colourful cocktails you eyed suspiciously.

“Tell me what it is you think you possess that I want desperately enough to share some of my contact’s names,” the criminal changed the subject, making a point of ignoring Loki, who seemed to be more than amused by the whole situation as he took a small piece of silvery glinting metal out of his suit pocket and placed it on the table in front of Klaue, under the watchful gazes of his two silent henchmen. Klaue couldn’t suppress the hungry expression on his face as he took the small piece of vibranium into his hands.

“We heard the Wakandans love you so much they didn’t want to let you go again,” Loki said. So, he had paid attention to the briefing.

You added, “Until they made sure you’d be a dead man should you ever set foot in their country.”

Klaue chortled.

“You did your research. So did I, by the way, but it was impossible to glean much information about you.”

“That might be because we’re better at our job than you are,” Loki countered.

One of Klaue’s cronies coughed, barely managing to conceal his little guffaw.

“Now that that’s settled,” you chimed in, swirling the straw in your cocktail glass, “We know where you can find vibranium to steal outside of Wakanda. We have some information regarding a few shipments of about half a ton – top secret, of course. All we ask for in return are the names of your contacts on the black market. Weapons, drugs, vibranium. The usual business.”

Klaue sneered at you and Loki. “Then let’s play. For every round the two of you win, I’ll give you a name. For every round we win, I get a new set of coordinates for shipments. Sound like a deal? If you’re confident enough regarding your poker skills, of course.”

“I think we’ll make do,” Loki retorted drily.

It was an interesting game of poker. The chips on Loki’s side of the table were multiplying with every round, and it got harder to maintain your own straight face while watching these criminals with their steroid enhanced muscles and scarred, grim faces lose their fortune to the God of Mischief, round by round, while their faces became even more grim.

You knew Loki was cheating, and from the sly little smirk he occasionally threw your way from opposite the table, he knew that you knew. You didn’t exactly have to be a telepath to tell. Had it only been for the sake of fun, you’d have been way more relaxed than you currently felt. This was an undercover mission. Stealing these guys’ money wasn’t exactly the kind of behaviour which could be described as inconspicuous.

Loki, though, didn’t seem to notice or care. He was having a ball, you thought while he placed his cards on the poker table – another Royal Flush. You could practically feel how the others were gnashing their teeth, probably already planning how to get rid of your bodies should Loki’s lucky streak continue.

“I’ll take these,” he chimed up with viciousness in his smooth voice while he grabbed another golden chip out of the hands of the guy with the rose pinned to his lapel. “Looks like I’m more than a pretty face myself,” he added with a wink at Klaue, mocking the criminal’s prior attempt to undermine your own position.

“Looks like the Queen of Hearts has an affinity for you,” Klaue added with barely veiled threat in his tone.

“Look at me. You can hardly blame her for it,” Loki countered, and when he spoke the words, his mesmerizing eyes locked on yours once more, holding a spark of mischief at the insinuation that made your pulse quicken with a flood of thoughts wholly improper in the midst of an important mission. Thoughts which made heat bloom in your lower belly. It took all of your self-control not to kick him under the table.

Above the cards in your hand, you threw the trickster a warning glare. If you’re not careful, we’ll be thrown out of this place. With or without a body bag to go nicely with your black suit, you snapped in your mind in case he was able to hear your thoughts right now. With Loki, you never exactly knew how his telepathic skills worked.

Just then, something unexpected happened.

Your panties started to…vibrate. A light vibration against your crotch that tore a surprised little gasp from you – which, in return, drew the glances of every other person at the table as your eyes snapped up to meet Loki’s. He wore the perfect poker face while he intently observed your reaction, the trace of an innocent smile curving his lips as you cleared your throat and placed your hand on the table. “I’m out,” you declared with a slight quiver in your voice at the thrumming sensations against your core, before they stopped as abruptly as they had begun.

Oh no you didn’t, you hissed in your mind, and he sparkle in Loki’s eyes told you that he could hear your thoughts. And that the match had just begun. A minute ago, you’d have compared this little game of hunter and prey Loki and you had been playing the last few weeks with a game of poker itself. But Loki had shown you his cards when he’d told you that he wanted you to be his – while you had continued to hold your cards still close to your heart and keep your poker face intact.  

Now, you realized, Loki had switched the game, drawing you in for a round of Russian Roulette instead.

Oh yes, I did, his voice answered in your mind, a soft purr which only fuelled the growing arousal in your core.

Don’t you dare, Loki. I swear –

The panties vibrated again, and this time, it was more intense than before, a vibration right against that bundle of nerves, which sent a gentle wave of pleasure zinging through your lower belly and made heat pool between your thighs while your back arched slightly with the sensation.

Loki, stop it, you snapped in your mind, beginning to panic a little but the trickster’s devious smirk only widened.

“Is everything alright, darling?”, he asked aloud, his voice sweet and innocent like dripping honey as you squeezed your thighs together and tried to keep your breath steady, “You seem to be a little…tense.”

Since you’re taking your sweet time to allow me in your bed, I figured I would have to find another way to satisfy your needs, my darling. I promised you wouldn’t want for anything, he added in your mind, the timbre of his voice growing heavy with his own excitement.

How did he do it? His slender hands were holding his poker cards – but there were little green sparks dancing at the tips of his fingers. Fingers which, only weeks ago, had wandered over your thighs, had caressed the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs while he promised to make you his, making you writhe with lust and scream his name …

Stop showing me these memories, you commanded, and the onslaught of images in your mind stopped as Loki obeyed.

You’re right, he drawled and gave you a seductive wink from opposite the table, Why sulk in memories if there’s so much to look forward to instead?

The pulsing vibration of the panties intensified once more, a steady, gentle thrum against your clit which made your nerve endings sear with the sensation, and you bit your lip to suppress a moan as you felt the slickness of your arousal seep into the lace of the panties, soaking the delicate fabric.

One of the other men at the table cleared his throat, throwing you an expectant glance as you willed every last dreg of self-control to fight against the desire to roll your hips in time with the thrumming pulse of the panties, to rub against it to gain more friction because the vibration alone wasn’t enough – and realized that it was your turn to pick the next card. You had stopped paying attention a while ago. With a slight tremor in your hand, which you tried hard to conceal, you reached out and picked a card.

Loki, I mean it, you warned in a last attempt to prevent what you didn’t really want to prevent any more, if you don’t – oh fuck.

This time, your body took control, and you faintly rolled your hips, causing the vibrating button to press harder against your throbbing clit. The sensation was overwhelming, making your eyes flutter close briefly with its intensity as the ache between your thighs became unbearable and you tried to take a steadying breath to bite back the moan threatening to tear from your throat. God, did it feel good.

I wish you could see yourself now, so hot and bothered and needy. What exactly is you need, darling?, Loki’s voice continued to drawl in your mind, the sultry timbre accompanying the pulsing vibrations against your slick core while a new wave of images poured into your mind’s eye. Images of Loki’s hands dipping into your panties to replace the vibrating button and dance over the wetness of your folds, swivelling over that swollen bundle of nerves to fill your body with the sweetest sensations as you desperately rolled your hips against his.

A choked groan escaped you through gritted teeth as your ground your hips against the thrumming of the panties, and a few confused glances found you from the other players at the table as you demurely used your free hand to fan yourself, and muttered, “It’s warm in here.”

“It is, indeed,” Loki chimed in with another innocent smile, only betrayed by the amused gleam in his eyes. Eyes which were getting gradually darker with his own desire. Time for payback, you thought. Two can play this game.

Starting to grind your hips in time with the vibrating pulse, slowly, slow enough for the others not to notice, you let out a low groan in your mind and leaned further against the top of the poker table, never breaking eye contact with Loki as you began to croon in your mind, I wish you could feel how wet I am for you, darling.

His eyes flashed as you called him by the same pet name he’d given you, and you knew the scales were tipping. With a coy smile, you gyrated your hips once more, quietly relishing the sensation of raw pleasure bolting through your tensing muscles as your clit rubbed against the thrumming fabric. It cost so much will-power not to give voice to how heavenly it felt – but your poker face was just as good as Loki’s.

And so, you continued to drawl in your mind’s inner voice, with a tone heavy with lust, I wish you could touch me now. Feel how ready I am for you. I still think about you, fucking me with your beautiful fingers. Nice and slow… For good measure, you conjured the things in your mind’s eye you’d already imagined Loki doing to you, thoughts you’d spun in the quiet darkness of your bedroom at night while you’d let your hands wander below the waistband of your panties. Look at the things I imagined you doing, Loki. Look how I stroked myself, thinking about how it would feel if it were your mouth pleasuring me instead of my own hands…how good it would feel if it were your tongue. Your hands. Your cock. Filling me so good, better even than your fingers.

God, you needed to take care not to come to your high with these thoughts alone, showing them to Loki… You could see how aroused the trickster was – the feverish glow in his eyes gave him away, the smile which had fused into something darker, something predatory as he watched your innocent expression while you showed him all these fantasies, slowly grinding against the toy he’d given you. There was a slight flush in his pale cheeks, his breaths getting heavier and heavier, and all the while, the game of poker continued – turning out to be an effective way to keep the three criminals occupied with their own cards and odds to realize what was happening between you and the trickster.

Despite your efforts, though, Loki still held the power in his hands. If you cried out at this table, all eyes would be on you, eyes which could see through the façade you and Loki were more or less trying to uphold. There would probably be no real danger for the two of you, with your and Loki’s fighting skills and the trickster’s magic for good measure – but you wouldn’t get the names you were after, the information you needed to get these people arrested.

With a smile so vicious, so intoxicating, Loki watched as he amped up the vibrator’s intensity with his magic, and it was all you could do not to double over and cry out his name, you were so close. Instead, you jumped to your feet and threw your cards on the table.

“I need another drink,” you announced. With a glare at Loki, you added, “A stronger one.”

Indignantly, Klaue began to protest, “You can’t just leave the table in the middle of a –“

“For someone losing every single round, you sure are intent on continuing to do so,” you cut him off, and the bite in your tone silenced him for good as you stormed off.

You needed to keep your head clear. And to get your head clear, you needed to get these panties off. Your legs were trembling as you walked – or rather stumbled – through the casino’s sumptuous foyer, weaving through throngs of people with lavish evening gowns and wrists and necks decorated with gemstones as huge as dollar coins, all the while the cursed panties kept vibrating against the apex of your thighs. You didn’t see a sign for the restrooms, but you needed to get the garment off. Now. There – there was an empty elevator. You darted inside and pushed the button to hold the doors closed while your hands slid beneath the short hem of your dress. You yanked at the waistband of the panties, pulling them down with a shaky sigh of relief when they hit the ground around your ankles with a soft thud of fabric and plastic.

Just as you bent down to grab them, green light filled the elevator car.

“YOU!”, you fumed, absolutely livid, stabbing your index finger at his chest, but your ragged breaths took the edge from your voice and left it sounding weak. Loki only smirked, looking pointedly unimpressed by your fury.

“No need to thank me. We both know you enjoyed this little gamble. The panties would surely attest the fact.” His eyes travelled down to the sodden lace in your hand, and you threw them at him with another angry hiss.

Loki’s grin widened when he caught the panties with one hand, and wrapping the delicate lace around his elegant fingers, he crooned with delight, “You truly are soaked for me.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“It might be the time to remind you that it was you who showed me all these naughty fantasies only minutes ago. How long have you been enjoying them, darling?” His voice grew lower with every word, heavy with arousal as it floated through the small tension-filled space between the two of you, surrounded by white marble and the huge, gilded mirror. You kept glowering while you brushed your palms over the fabric of your dress to smooth it out, standing your ground and holding his piercing blue gaze, careful not to let show how excitement was sizzling through your veins and desire pooling between your thighs.

“Tell me”, Loki continued, taking another small, measured step towards you, “How often have you touched yourself, thinking of me?”

You didn’t dare to reply, lest the strain in your voice would betray your desire, but the look flashing across Loki’s handsome features showed you that your expression had already given you away. He chuckled as he closed the remaining distance between the two of you, lifting his hand to let the back of his index finger gently trace the line of your jaw before he tilted your chin up, leaning closer to you. So close that his lips were hovering above yours, his hot breath tickling your lips, and your core throbbed with the overwhelming need to have him inside you, to finally have him pleasure you in all the ways you wanted him to. In all the ways you had imagined.

“All these fantasies,” Loki continued to growl in his voice as smooth and dark as satin while he slowly brushed the pad of his thumb over the bow of your lower lip, making your legs even weaker and your breath hitch, “I want to make them all come true for you, darling. All of them, and more.”

The beautiful azure colour of his irises was nearly fully eclipsed by his lust-blown pupils as he watched you from beneath a curtain of long, dark lashes while his intoxicating scent engulfed you, an irresistible mix of soap and something herbal and traces of leather lingering in the air. His closeness made your mind spin like one of the roulette wheels beyond the elevator’s golden doors.

More than anything, you wanted to finally feel his lips against yours, to taste his searing kisses, feel them all over your bare skin…

Your eyes fluttered close, overwhelmed by the sensations he summoned in your body with only his closeness, the brush of his thumb over your bottom lip. “You played me well, darling”, he rasped, and his breath felt like another fleeting caress as it ghosted over your lips, “Pretending I didn’t long since conquer your heart to make me dance like a puppet on your string. I’m impressed. I couldn’t have played a game more mischievous. If I told you that you’ve won – would you like to collect the prize?”

“My heart never was a trophy to win in a game,” you stated and took a step back, away from him, until your spine met the cold marble of the elevator car’s wall and the golden handrail dug into your lower back. Loki stayed where he was, watching you hungrily as you went on, “I wanted to see whether you mean it. That you truly want me – not just as a pastime. That your intentions were honourable.”

He snickered. “Rest assured that my intentions towards you have never been anything but un-honourable. But –“, to your surprise, the impish smirk made room for genuineness in the trickster’s expression when he continued, “ – rest also assured that my intentions have always been to treat you like a queen. To pleasure and make you happy not only inside the bedroom, but outside of it as well. For as long as you’ll let me.”

You blinked. “Even if I would let you do it forever? Don’t you think you will bore of me one day and seek another means to pass your time?” Your tone was taunting – but your concern was real.

“What else can I do to prove the honesty of my intentions towards you, Y/N?”, he asked. It sounded neither impatient nor annoyed, but curios, urgent, “As I told you: for your love, I’ll do anything you ask of me. Anything you want me to.”

“First of all, you could have warned me about the devilish device in my panties,” you finally deadpanned with a slow grin tugging at your lips as another idea bloomed in your mind. As much as you wanted him to take you right now, you wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

“It’s not as if you didn’t have fun with them,” Loki retorted wickedly, lifting the lacy thing between his fingers.

“And still,” you purred, “I’m all hot and bothered and in desperate need of relief.”

You lasciviously lifted one leg and placed the heel of your shoe on his stomach to stop him from prowling closer while you leaned further back against the wall, resting one elbow on the cool golden handrail while you let your other hand slowly roam down the outside of your thigh, Loki’s gaze intently following your every movement.

“You don’t think you’ll have any of it now, do you?”, you crooned, and slowly dragged up the hem of your dress with your fingers, feeling the slickness of arousal already seep down between your legs. You shivered under the intensity of Loki’s beautiful blue gaze as your hand slowly travelled up the inside of your thigh, fingertips dancing over the sensitive skin as they wandered higher until they finally reached your core.

“I might have given in tonight,” you drawled sweetly, lacing your voice with the heaviness of your arousal as you drew out every word while you dragged the tip of your index finger over the slickness of your heat, and the thrill of it, of Loki watching you, made your heart race all the faster.

“Is this your punishment for me?”, Loki inquired mockingly, “Putting on a little show and making me watch you pleasure yourself while you think of me? For a punishment, that’s a pretty good one.”

“Is it?” Your fingertips had reached the swollen bud of your clit, and you let out a wanton moan as you brushed over it, lasciviously rolling your hips as you sunk further against the wall, you free hand deliberately slowly wandering up to caress your breasts through the fabric of the dress.

“Is it a good punishment, watching me fuck my own hands instead of yours? God, this is so good”, you added with a groan, “Maybe I don’t need you after all for these things.”

It was good. It had never been so good as now, with Loki watching you, but he didn’t need to know that. Pleasure shot through you as you let your fingertips swirl over the swollen bundle of nerves, and the slick sounds filled the elevator car along with your lewd moans and Loki’s own breath, which became increasingly more laboured as he watched you – and with a huff of surprise from you, an invisible grasp pulled your hands away to pin them against the marble wall above your head.

“Don’t you dare,” you panted, and Loki tilted his head with a mischievous smirk, watching you while you struggled against his magic’s hold on your wrists with little success.

“I can’t let you have all the fun without me,” he taunted and gently pushed down your leg.

Your eyes narrowed with a surge of exhilaration bolting through you as you countered, “And once again, you’re cheating in a game.”

“I thought you’d made clear it wasn’t a game, darling,” he mused, one eyebrow raised in feigned confusion.

“I only ever said my heart wasn’t a prize to win. I never said it wasn’t a game.”

“Is it still a game if we’re both winning in the end, though?”, Loki pondered, relishing the way your breathing was laboured with desire for him as he stalked closer to you, step by measured step, and the intensity in his gaze would have been enough to pin you into place without his magic.

“As I see it,” he murmured when he’d come to stand in front of you, head angled and close enough for the tip of his nose to nearly brush against yours as he leaned closer still, making you shiver with anticipation of what was to follow, “I want you as much as you want me. Why not give in at last?”

“We could have gotten married in the time it took you to finish your little speech,” you breathed with a sly smile mirroring his own. “If you’re planning on continuing this ted talk, I’d be much obliged if you could set my hands free to let me finish the job myself.”

“Does it turn you on that much to hear me talk?”, he quipped, all the while his fingertips reached down to toy with the hem of your dress, and you bucked your hips against his as your body took control.

“The panties did a marvellous job, so don’t give yourself too much credit.”

Loki only chuckled, leaning closer while his hands slipped beneath the glittering fabric of your dress to caress the bare skin of your thigh while he slowly let them wander upwards, and his gaze strayed down to your lips.

“Vibrating panties aren’t much of a competition for me.”

You arched into his touch as his fingertips finally reached the apex of your thighs, dragging them torturingly slow along your soaked folds, and you swallowed your frustrated groan.

“Stop teasing.”

“Then what would you like me to do, darling?”, he breathed, “Would you like me to make all these things come true that you imagined so desperately?”

His lips grazed your cheek as you gave him a breathless nod, and you could feel him smile when his fingertips caressed your soaked core, deliberately avoiding the spot where you needed him most.

“If you’re up for it,” you taunted.

Another frustrated whine broke from your chest as Loki pulled his hands away from you with his signature smirk, but the words of protest died in your throat as his hands snaked around your thighs to grab you butt and lift you onto the handrail, and you shivered as the cold metal made contact with your bare skin where your dress had ridden up.

“What are you doing?”, you panted, and his smile widened while his lust-blown eyes sparked and he sunk to his knees in front of you.

“Taking my time with you.”

“In an elevator?”, you questioned. As if on cue, the doors began to slide open with a ping, but a green bolt of light pulled them shut again, all the while Loki’s gaze had never even strayed from yours.

“I don’t see why not,” he hummed, hands gliding down your legs to hook them around his shoulders, “Especially after having been patient for so long.”

Your mind flitted back to what he’d said to you at the party weeks ago while he’d trailed kisses over your throat.

“Would you like that, me on my knees for you?”

“I thought kings would never kneel.”

“Only for their queen.”

He seemed to have had the same thought, because he mused, “Maybe the Queen of Hearts is drawn to me.” His hot breath tickled your most sensitive parts as he spoke, the wetness already pooling between your thighs, and it made you shudder with eagerness.

You were about to tell him what a bad pun it was, but your words were cut off by a moan as Loki’s tongue flicked out, drawing lazy circles over your dripping folds, making your hips snap up to meet his mouth. He chuckled against your wetness, while his hands travelled up your thighs to grab your hips and pin them against the handrail, his fingernails scratching the soft skin.

“So desperate for me already and I barely even touched you”, he grinned and this time, his tongue hit that sweet spot and you cried out as you rolled your hips, craving more. He moaned in response, sucking at the bundle of nerves, making you writhe beneath his touch with the sensation of his tongue, the vibration of his dark voice against you as he murmured, “You taste sweeter than any Asgardian wine.”

Everything you had imagined in the night-shrouded solitude of your bedroom was paling compared to this blissful reality, to the sight and feeling of Loki kneeling between your legs, pleasuring you. Your back arched, and the pleasure washing over you intensified with every flick of his tongue against that bundle of nerves. You writhed in his magic’s grasp still pinning you to the elevator’s wall, desperate to rake your hands through his raven hair.

But the ache for him wasn’t quenched by the ministrations of his skilled tongue. You needed more of him.

“I need you, Loki,” your whispered on another wanton moan, and the vibration of his low laugh against your heat – so, so much better than the damn panties – made your walls clench around nothing, fuelling your need to feel him inside of you until you thought it might drive you crazy. A whine escaped your throat when he pulled away from you to meet your gaze.

“After you’ve been teasing and testing me for weeks?”, Loki drawled with a rascal grin before his tongue flicked out to lick your arousal from his lips. “I should just leave you here, all desperate and wet and needy for me. Take my sweet revenge.”

“You want me too much to leave now,” you cooed with a devilish grin.

“If you want me, you’ll have to beg for it.”

With these words, he rose back to his feet, but you only snickered.

“Queens don’t beg,” you whispered with a lilting tone, “They only command.”

“And what is it you command me to do, darling?”

Your voice darkened. “Make me scream your name. Make me yours.”

When his lips finally crashed on yours, they held the ferocity of a wildfire, and the very same flames flared in your own core as you rolled your hips against his and his hands flew up to cup your face and pull you closer into the greedy, open-mouthed kiss. The grasp of his magic on your wrists dispersed, and you let your hands thread through his luscious black curls, as soft to the touch as you’d imagined they would be, and the moan tumbling from Loki’s lips as you gently tugged at his strands to pull him even closer made you go wild with longing. Judging by the bulge in his pants as he rolled his hips against yours and the searing urge of his kisses, his tongue dancing around yours to taste you, his patience was as strained as your own.

Before you could utter your plea for him to fill you, Loki’s hands settled on your waist and he spun you around so your spine was pressed flush against his chest, and his lust-darkened eyes met yours in the elevator’s gilded mirror in front of you.

“Look how stunning you are, darling,” he husked, and you inhaled sharply when one of his hands slid beneath the hem of your dress and his cool fingertips began to caress the swollen nub of your clit, and you sunk further back against him. Just like he’d done weeks ago at the party – but now, there were no prying eyes to watch but your own, eagerly meeting his hungry gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Continuing what the two of you had started on the dance floor.

You let your own hand wander between your bodies, and with a quick movement of your fingertips, the button at the fly of his pants came undone and your hand dove down to free him, a smirk playing on your lips as you watched his lips part with a sinful moan as your fingers wrapped around his hardened length and you started to pump him with slow, measured strokes.

“I wonder how lovely you’ll look with me filling you,” he murmured, and his lips grazed the shell of your ear, making you angle your head to grant him access to your neck, and he let his teeth graze over the sensitive skin above your racing pulse point. His fingers kept teasing your clit so achingly slowly, sending the sweetest jolts of pleasure coursing through you as your hips rutted against his hand, submitting to your darkest, deepest desires you’d harboured for so long, stoking the throbbing ache in your core as he made these sweet fantasies come true at last.

“More,” you whimpered, “Please.”

“As you wish,” Loki purred. His voice was so low that it was barely above a whisper. His hand left your clit to align himself with your entrance, dragging his tip along your soaked folds while his gaze, dark and ravenous, feeding the flames licking at your core, stayed on you in the mirror’s reflection, drinking you in as your eyes fluttered close when he rolled his hips and buried himself in you so deliciously slowly, relishing the feeling of your walls stretching around him, of your slickness coating him. The sensation was enough to steal another moan from your lips and the air from your lungs, intensifying to white-hot bliss as Loki began to move, bottoming out of you only to slide back and bury himself deeper in your dripping core with another lewd moan tangling in the air.

“How do you want me to take you, my darling?”, Loki breathed, “Do you want it nice and slow? Or do you want me to fuck you senseless?”

“Why decide?,” you replied breathlessly, “You said you’d do whatever I want you to. I want you to do both.”

A dark laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating through your spine while he began to attack the side of your neck with bruising kisses; teeth scraping over soft skin, nibbling at the most sensitive spots to draw soft whimpers from your lips as he left his mark on you.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded when you let your eyes fell shut and your head fall back against his shoulder as pleasure submerged you, “I want you to watch how good you’re taking me. How beautiful you look, coming undone with me inside of you.”

Obeying, you forced your eyes open to watch him in the mirror, to savour the sight of the hungry gleam in his mesmerizing eyes, the beautiful blush on his cheeks, his lips on your skin as every thrust sheathed him deeper inside of you, eliciting nothing but pure, searing bliss bolting through every nerve of your body, senses heightened to his every touch, his every breath ghosting over the crook of your shoulder, his long lashes tickling the skin of your throat as he pulled you closer. Your hands shot up to rake through his ink-black curls once more, as you rolled your hips in time with his, observing how perfectly your bodies fit together, melded into one.

“Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he rasped, and one of his hands snaked back to your clit, rubbing over the swollen bud in time with his languid thrusts, the tension in your lower belly growing until you thought you might explode with the scorching pleasure he gave you while he pushed deeper into you. “Let me hear these lovely sounds, darling. Let me hear that you’re mine.”

His free hand slid upwards, wrapping around the column of your throat with a gentle grasp. His fingertips made your skin tingle as if the touch would leave burn marks of bliss wherever his skin met yours, and you arched your back as another broken cry of lust tore from you, lacing with Loki’s own moans and praising whispers in the air of the elevator car as he fucked you in front of the gilded mirror. It felt delirious, and you craved more of this beautiful agony he was bestowing on you.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he commanded hoarsely, and the beautiful dark timbre of his voice seemed to reverberate against your spine, through your very bones.

“You,” you moaned, “I’m yours, Loki. All of me.”

Loki’s pacing quickened, length kept hitting that sweet, throbbing spot inside of you, over and over again, building knot of fire in your belly until you thought you couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m close,” you moaned as you could feel your release catching up to you, slowly and with an intensity you’d never experienced before.

The rhythm of his thrusts faltered, languid thrusts turning into jagged rutting movements telling you Loki was close as well. For a wonderful moment, you felt like balancing on a tightrope, on the precipice of your climax; breathless, locked in Loki’s embrace. Your walls clenched around him as his tip grazed that throbbing spot once more, and along with his fingertips caressing your clit, the glow that had built in your core seemed to explode into thousand little fireworks, sparks flying through your body as your muscles jerked and your hips gyrated against him raggedly to match his thrusts, dragging him under with you, and your mind went beautifully blank while everything blurred with bliss. You felt him twitch inside you as Loki came undone with you, and a sinful moan tore from his throat while the feeling of his hot cum spilling inside of you was enough to pull you under with another orgasm.

Loki’s muscles clenched and his grip around you tightened as he rode out both your climaxes, his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck and his breathing ragged against your bare skin.

For a few breathless, panting moments, you stayed like this, feeling his racing heartbeat calm in time with yours as it kept thrumming against your spine, and you marvelled at how beautiful he looked, raven hair messed by your hands and the edges of his wicked grin softened with affection.

Loki’s hand left its place around your throat to tangle in your hair instead, and with a last lingering kiss to the crook of your neck, he rasped, “Tell me whenever you’re ready for round two. Or do you intend to let me wait another couple of weeks?”

The soft tease in his coarse voice made you flash him a devilish grin in the mirror as you drawled, “That depends entirely on how queenly you proceed to treat me now that you’ve gotten what you wanted.”

“You still think it’s the only thing I wanted?”, Loki chuckled, and his hands grasped the hem of your dress to pull it down with a sly smirk before he rebuttoned his pants. “I told you what I want, Y/N. Your heart, your soul, your love. Your everything.”

“We should probably finish the mission before discussing our relations in the near future,” you quipped, “Though I guess the criminals have been entertained by a perfect copy of yourself, still stealing their money?”

Loki’s expression was one of feigned innocence. “You say it as if it were something bad.”

***

When you woke the next morning, there was a pleasant ache between your legs to tell you last night, everything that had happened in the elevator, hadn’t only been a dream. You stretched and your hand brushed against something smooth and cold which had been placed on the empty side of your bed.

The last wisps of sleep dissipated quickly as you sat up and weighed the smooth little box in your hands. It was roughly the size of your palm, made of dark wood and adorned with a ribbon of dark green silk which rustled softly like the pages of a book as it loosened under your fingertips.

Your smile widened as you lifted the box’s lid to reveal a single play card depicting a woman with a crown, her crimson painted lips curved into the ghost of a smile. The Queen of Hearts.

“Smooth as always,” you chuckled to yourself – but as you lifted the card between your fingertips, something glinting caught your focus the morning light, and your mouth fell open.

Beneath the card, there was a ring resting on the green velvet at the bottom of the box, a beautiful golden circlet with a single emerald, and your heart made a somersault as you turned the card with the Queen of Hearts and your eyes fell on the loops of Loki’s elegant handwriting.

I may not be king, but I fully intend to make you my queen if your answer is yes.

Loki taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @boneheadduluc​ @spiderhostia​ @a-midwinter-night-dream-86​  @zemosimp05​ @justfangirlthingies​ @cazzyimagines​ @rumblelibrary​ @victias​ @justanothertruebeliver @chiptaylormybeloved @vverliebt​ @madhatter2727​ @a-simp-recommends-fics​ @morphoportis​  @superavengerpotter​ @savvywords​ @thatoneleoslytherin​ @clockblobber​ @jhawk608​  @spooksgalore69​ @paetonnn​ @chaosbringer566​ @jesuisbenny​ @idkimjusthere23​  @dirtytissuebox​ @sarahpaq08​ @janetsnakehole02​ @swimgirl5665​ @wojciechovsk​  @flawed---by---design​ @the-maroon-panda​ @charistory​ @lokiperfection​ @jen-w​ @i-l-y-3000​  @spicy-acocado @fallinallinmendes​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @whiskeywinter89​  @cringingmemeries​ @osugahunnyicedtea​ @dead-mitochondria @littleone65  @theaudacitytowrite​ @marchingicenotes7​ @palepurserebelcloud @variant59​ @lokistoriesblog​ @classicmarvelavenue​  @confettucini​ @1marvelnerd3000​ @gabewerk @huffpuff10​ @pugcess​  @wh0reforthemarauders​ @pictsiepanda​ @sititran​ @kingtwhiddleston​ @glee-ghost​ @glacial-snowflakes​

Taglist for a sequel to For Your Love: @spensual​ @melinaflynn1982 @goddessofmisschieff​ @psyc-hot-ic-gingers-kitten​ @valenorese​

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki mcu #loki smut #loki tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | ix

Broken hearts and bruised feelings make for an ugly pairing.

Read part eight here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16.4K

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering, oral (m&f receiving), exhibitionism, public sex, impact play, spit play, temperature play, dom/sub, touch of bratty sub, praise, degradation, soft sex, angst, fighting, mentions of alcoholism/alcoholic tendencies, drinking, swearing, crying, v emotional chapter, sorry if i miss any!

heres chapter nine a little early, just cause I feel so bad for being horrible at posting 😁 also I am living for the speculation on the story; you all have very intriguing ideas to share. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (cause there’s def lots, this is incredibly lightly edited)

Music boomed in your ears and your chest burned with heat from your last shot. Dylan and Riley were fighting against their disgust for the tequila, nursing a lime wedge in their mouths as their eyes watered with regret. You placed your own wedge in the shot glass, barely wincing as the alcohol moved to your stomach. You had become accustomed to the sensation, and it was no different than the scratch of cigarette smoke on the back of your throat. If anything, the otherworldly ache from substance was much easier to digest than the permanent pain that settled in your heart. But, to you, another night of drowning out the sorrow was infinitely better than speaking the trouble into existence, even if you knew you would wake up feeling worse than the morning before.

Days had passed since your first show in Atlanta. It had gone without a hitch; the only thing you wished to change was the length of time you were allowed to spend on stage. Performing was your new purpose, your driving force for getting out of bed and surviving the day. It was something you had been searching for since you moved to Nashville, and you had finally found the feeling outside of another human being. The world seemed perfect if you were an outsider looking in, but perfect was subject, and your life was far from it. You had your dream job, more money than you ever dreamed of as a child, and more love pouring in than ever before, but you were still miserable. So miserable that drinking away the day served as more comfort than sobriety, lately.

Gold Dust Woman had become you; the name fitting better than it ever had. Elusive and empty, always searching for a thrill in a bottle, and seemingly unable to find a purpose. You felt like you were walking aimlessly, showing up to venues solely for the sake of entertaining. When the hotel doors closed and you found yourself alone again, any sense of self was gone without a trace. Mirrors had become the enemy, always seeming to showcase the emptiness you held behind your eyes, taunting you with unfamiliarities that you did not have the energy to change. You were lost within the mess of the rockstar lifestyle, and the blame was only on you.

You had turned volatile and distant, a shell of who you used to be. Unfortunately, it was not the pressure of the music industry, nor the lack of rules and enhanced freedom that you had gained. In truth, that was very low on your list of reasons for feeling so poorly. The reality was that your dance with the devil had finally caught up to you. The brothers had moved in for the kill, successful in their strike. Entertaining love from both of them had always been tiresome, but now you were exhausted. It was not loving them that was difficult, rather the fact that you loved them so much, and so equally. Now, there was no chance of escaping them, even just for a moment. You lived with them, travelled with them, and worked with them every minute of the day. Most of the time, your closed hotel door room did not even stop them from invading your life.

Sam was persistent, always around in attempt to win your heart for good. Jake, on the other hand, was absent once more. This separation was not at his hands, though. You had refused any further contact after the debacle of the nameless bimbo at the Atlanta venue. You had no way to express it, but the pain you were holding from that interaction was debilitating, and it was only worsened when you looked at him. You understood that his intent was to hurt you in the same way he was hurting, but he struck nerves that you didn’t even realize existed. You weren’t official with either boy, but had always been under the pretence of at least being committed. Perhaps your jealousy and anger was misplaced, but even if it was, it was still very present in your mind.

You were certain he knew the affect of his actions, and you were sure he felt remorseful about it. However, you had never allowed him the chance to express his apologies even if he did want to make amends. Every conversation he initiated was quickly shot down, every touch was evaded, and every longing glance was not returned. You tried to appear uncaring, but the truth was you cared too much. You weren’t sure if this stood for the ending of your relationship with Jake, but it was certainly a bump in the road that threw you violently off course.

Your hurt lied within the fact that Jake and Sam both knew the truth about the situation; they continued to try and win you over while knowing that you were seeing both of them at the same time. You, however, were not under the impression that the brothers would be entertaining anyone else. If Jake had flirted with another girl in good faith, maybe you would have been more likely to forgive and forget. Instead, he only used the woman to bother you. She was a weapon meant to shatter your ego, and it did exactly that. His childish endeavour was harmless in theory, mostly because you knew he did not take her home that night. Even if he did spend the entire evening immersed in her, it ended as soon as you both walked out of the door of the venue. The issue was not the innocent flirting; it was the fact he had done it solely to hurt you, and hurt you he did.

Seeing him entertaining advances from another person reminded you of where you sat all those months ago, pining after Sam while he had girls tripping over themselves to get his attention. It put you directly back into the state you were in when you were desperate for Sam’s attention, crying and hurting every night over someone who refused to acknowledge your existence in any way other than friendly. It made you feel small, insignificant and shattered your entire self worth. Perhaps he was trying to make you see things through his eyes, but he had no idea it would burn you as bad as it truly did. Being second to someone else was normal for you, but having gone so long without feeling that way, you seemed to have forgotten how much it sucked. Outwardly, you were furious, but deep down, all of the anger was nothing short of an act to cover the sound of your own breaking heart.

You missed him terribly, but not enough to give in so easily. You were determined to reach a lesson, and so far it had been working well. Although both of you were nearly unbearable to be around, the message was definitely portrayed in the way you intended, and that was enough to keep you in moderately good spirits. “Another one, please.” You told the bartender, closing your eyes for a moment to regain your senses. Thinking about Jake for too long seemed to heighten your blood pressure and prompt a migraine. You loved him, but in the same way a dog stays loyal to the owner who inflicts pain on it. You had one hell of a knack for self punishment, and you almost seemed desperate to be hurt by him. Instead of cutting it off completely, you continued to string each other along in the most painful way possible.

Loving him from a distance was excruciating, but loving him fully was even worse. Your feelings for Jake were so intense that it was hard to comprehend, but you seemed to be angry at each other more than you were happy with each other. You couldn’t help but appreciate how simple things had been with Sam, and even when you were annoyed with each other, it never seemed quite as catastrophic. Comparing the two brothers in any sense was something you had sworn not to do, but at the end of each day that passed, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep them separate.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” He said, placing the shot in front of you. The term of endearment sent a shiver down your spine, immediately reminding you of the boy who you were desperate to forget about. He was an addiction, one that you knew was killing you, but you couldn’t figure out how to give him up. It was selfish, but on the list of sins you had committed over the course of your relationships with the boys, greed one of the lesser injustices.

“Thank you,” you placed the cool glass to your lips, tilting your head back and swallowing the liquid. Without as much as a wince, you sat the glass back on the table and popped the lime in your mouth to satiate the burn. “Can I get a double rum and coke, too?” You had been drinking since before the show, but you were yet to feel even a buzz. You opted to pick up the pace, hoping if it wouldn’t wipe your memory clean, it would at least lull you to sleep later.

“Do you think I’m strong enough to carry you home?” Dylan asked, giving you an incredulous look at the sound of your order.

“No, but it would be funny to watch you try.” You chuckled, slipping your fingers around your drink and bringing the straw to your lips.

“You’ve been drinking since this morning. How are you still standing?” Riley asked, joining the conversation.

“Talent.” You smiled, looking to the booth that held the rest of your company. “I’m going to play pool.” You announced, not waiting for them to follow before moving towards the crowded area. You picked a cue off the wall, scanning the tables in hopes of finding a group that was looking for an extra. Better yet, your gaze landed upon a vacant table that was up for grabs. You moved towards it, setting your drink on the corner and arranging the balls.

You shot the cue ball, breaking the rack of the other balls. They scattered across the green surface of the table, one landing in the corner pocket and the rest slowing to a stop before they could reach.

You made a move to line up another shot, focusing on the ball and sinking it effortlessly. You straightened up, scanning for your next target, when you felt a body present itself at the end of the table. “Nice shot,” without any deeper analysis, you could tell that the compliment was laced with deeper meaning. The conversation starter was not because of your drunken talent, rather because he was desperate for you to speak to him. You did not acknowledge him, opting to brush past him and shoot at another ball. At your rejection, you thought he might head back to the booth to sulk, but you were never lucky, especially when it came to Jake. “I’d love to join. You know, if you don’t want to keep playing yourself.” He offered.

You made a move back to your drink, refusing to even look him in the eye. Instead, you shot another ball into a corner pocket, the slam of the cue against the ball exaggerating your feeling of distaste for his company. He watched, unsure of what to say to make things better. He knew he had done wrong, and it was haunting him. His moment of gratification from your shock was not worth losing you for good, and if he could take back the pain he caused, he would without hesitation. Despite his regret, he was beginning to get fed up with your lack of communication. His hot-headed nature was quickly surfacing, and he could only keep his composure for so long.

“Come on, y/n. Cut the shit.” He snapped, finally losing the temper he’d been so desperate to keep hold of. At the sound of his tone, your head shot up in anger, pupils clouded with a flame of rage. “You can’t ignore me forever.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Jake.” You snipped, knuckles turning white from the tight grip you had around the wooden cue.

“Oh, I know, Gold Dust Woman.” He said, never breaking your gaze. Your heart was erratic in your chest and the alcohol in your system was not particularly intoxicating you, but it was definitely worsening your emotional state.

“That’s your problem, Jake. You know everything, don’t you?” You sneered. “You’ve got it all figured out, and we just live in this world that Jacob created and we have to be happy about it because he thinks he’s fucking god.” You slammed the cue back on the rack, finished with your lighthearted game and finding yourself overdue for a departure.

“So you want to fight?” He chuckled, peering down at you with a hint of curiosity in his face. “Let’s fight, sweetheart. I’ve got all night.”

“I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to speak to you at all, but you can’t seem to take the fucking hint.” You picked up your drink and began walking away, done with the conversation before it ever really started. You were in no state of mind to hash out your thoughts or settle the matter, and you weren’t willing to channel the energy to get there.

“I want to talk, y/n. That’s the point. You can’t have it your way all of the time, even if you’re so used to getting it.” You chugged back the last of the liquid in your cup, sitting the glass on the counter as you signalled the bartender towards you. “The world has more than just you in it.”

“Another double, please.” You said, disregarding Jake’s words completely. “And I’d like to close out, if I can.” He gave a nod, compliant with your request.

“I’ll get it.” Jake announced, brushing you to the side as the bartender sat the debit machine in front of you. He was mad, but it did not forego his feelings for you, nor his need to take care of you. “And mine, too.”

“Fuck off, Jake.” You warned, reaching to grab it before he could. He looked to you, eyes all but red with anger, clearly showcasing that he was more than done with your tyrant.

“Behave,” he muttered, just low enough for you to hear. Even as upset as you were, his words prompted a rush of arousal straight through you. Jake being an asshole somehow equated to sexual desire in your mind, and despite your contempt, you would have been willing to let him have his way with you right then and there. You watched as he paid, turned on but careful to not be forgetful of the fire in your heart. “Let’s go.” He turned to you, eyeing the drink in your hand as a silent order to finish it quickly.

“I’m not going home with you.” You let out a laugh, shaking your head at his ridiculous request. You sipped through the straw, watching as the theoretical smoke began pouring from his ears at your disobedience. You may have been intrigued at his dominance, but not enough to push your feelings to the side. By having sex with him, you would only allow the painful debacle to continue without any repercussions. “I don’t even want to talk to you. Do you really think I want to fuck you?” Something snapped deep inside him, like the fuse to the bomb had finally whittled away to the end.

“I’m not asking, y/n. Finish your fucking drink and get outside.” There was no hidden implications within his message this time; he wasn’t using your high emotion as leverage for a night long session. He wanted to fight, too, even if he tried to pass it off as a mature discussion. You shot him a glare, but chugged down the carbonated beverage like it was holy water, knowing that it would be the night’s only salvation. You sat the cup on the counter and turned without another word.

Back at the booth, Dylan and Danny were watching with fear settled deep in their spines, worried that when they made their return back to the hotel, there would be no building left to sleep in. Jakes need for control and your fiery temper was not a good mix, and that was true without the added effects of the liquor you both had been gorging yourselves on. Danny was certain that Jake’s antics with the nameless woman at the venue would cause nothing but trouble, and Dylan was there to pick up the pieces after the devastation struck. They knew how catastrophic the situation could be, and they weren’t sure how to stop the inevitable.

“They’re going back together, aren’t they?” Josh asked, tipsy and almost laughing at the thought. He wasn’t even facing the door, but he didn’t need to see you to know what you were up to.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Danny chuckled.

“It’s Jake,” he rolled his eyes, as if it were obvious. “I can feel how angry he is all the way over here. He’s not going to let her go home without him.” The three settled into a shared laugh at the thought.

“Use your twin telepathy every now and then and tell me how they’re doing, okay?” Dylan asked, laughing but still worried about the scene that might unfold. Josh peeked over his shoulder in just enough time to catch Jake swing the door open for you, his grip nearly breaking the wooden panel as he held it. The emotion radiating from the both of you was heavy enough to fill the entire room, leaving no empty space for any questions or concerns.

“They’ll either never speak to each other again, or they’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.” Josh deducted, knowing no better way to explain his thoughts. Dylan heaved a heavy sigh, slinking back into the booth and closing her eyes. Danny snaked an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side in hopes to ease her worry, but all three of them were praying for the best possible outcome.

The night was cold on your exposed skin; the flimsy fabric of your tattered shirt sprawled with a worn band logo was not enough to insulate any heat. Your jeans were littered with rips and holes, leaving your legs vulnerable, too. The alcohol coursing through you was doing nothing to aid your temperature, and your teeth were chattering as soon as the bar door shut behind you. Wordlessly, Jake followed you as you stormed away. He never let you get too far, but kept a respectable distance from you. He didn’t want you running off, or for anyone to intercept the two of you. His arms-length distance was suitable for his comfort, but he didn’t want to crowd you, either. Even in his anger, he was always mindful of your safety and comfortability.

“Take my jacket, y/n.” He said, watching your draw your arms across your chest to preserve any body heat left in you.

“I don’t want your stupid jacket.” You replied, picking up the pace as you trundled down the sidewalk.

“Not asking,” he reminded, slipping it off his shoulders as he followed.

“Stop trying to take care of me!” You exploded, turning to him quicker than he could comprehend. He halted his movement in attempt to stop himself from running into you, still processing the sudden change when you started to speak again. “It’s not your job, Jake! I never asked you to, and I don’t want you to!” His scowl was heavy, unsettling and so unlike anything you’d seen from him before.

“I don’t care.” He said, looking down at you with little fear of your outburst. “I don’t care if you want me to, y/n. Don’t care if you asked, don’t care if it’s my job. I’m always going to do it, because I care about you. Now take the fucking jacket, and keep walking. You can yell at me all you want when we get inside.” You found yourself caught in a staring contest with him, both fuming but neither willing to give in. He raised an eyebrow, moving his arm to shove the jacket a little closer to you. With a clenched jaw, you snatched it from his hand and draped it over your shoulders. He didn’t think to utter a thanks, and you didn’t stay long enough to notice if he did.

The hotel lobby was vacant when you tumbled through the doors in disarray. The clerk at the front desk seemed like they were eager to greet you, but decided not to once they saw the expression you adorned. You rushed to the elevator, pressing the button as many times as your hand would allow. When the doors opened, you bustled inside and clicked the button to your floor, hoping the doors would close in his face. When they began to slide together, Jake caught up to you in enough time to stick his hand between them and send them flying open again. You rolled your eyes as he made his presence known, wondering why he felt the need to stand so close to you. In truth, he was all the way across the elevator, yet your intoxication and annoyance made it seem like he was nose to nose with you.

When a ding rang through the air signaling your arrival on the top floor, you couldn’t seem to get away fast enough. He stayed close behind, knowing that if he let you get to your room and close the door, you would never let him in. His inkling was not incorrect, as that was your exact plan. You thought if you could gain some distance, you would be able to lock the door and sulk in peace. You flashed your key card against the reader, twisting the knob and pushing inward in one swift motion. You opened the door so fast that you almost fell in and onto the floor, but kept your footing just to get the satisfaction of slamming the door in his face. When you turned to close the door, you were joyous when you didn’t see Jake immediately behind you. You thought you were in the clear, but just before you could bridge the gap, he stuck his foot between the frame and the door itself.

“Take a hint,” you huffed, out of breath from his pursuit.

“Would you give it up?” He snapped. “Let me in. I’m not leaving things like this. I’m not leaving you like this.” He refused to move out of the way, his foot planted firmly on the ground so you couldn’t lock him out.

“Then you can sit out there all night.” You challenged, sending another shove on the handle. He let out a hiss of pain as his foot was jammed in the opening, making the foolish decision to withdraw. Seizing the opportunity, you managed to latch the door shut without any further struggle. Jake felt a wave of frustration wash over him, letting his forehead fall flat against the solid door, sending the thumping sound through your room. You felt a sob rising in your throat, disgusted with yourself and the situation you found yourself in. You, too let your head fall against the door; both of you assumed the position, wishing you were leaning on each other to feel the warmth of comfort. Instead, stubborn and determined to be right, you left your hand on the knob with no intent to open it again. The yearning was so strong that you could both feel it clearly even through the blockage of oak wood.

“I know you’re mad at me, y/n, and I know why.” His words were muffled, but you could hear him clear as day. When it came to the sweet tone of his voice, you would strain to listen until you were left deaf and defeated. “Let me fix it, please.” You didn’t answer, instead felt the tears slip down your cheeks as you pictured the lingering pain he was holding in his features. He hurt you, and you were hurting him. It was an evil thing to entertain a relationship when you were both bound to destroy each other. Love was an ugly motivator, and it had left you both feeling alone much more often than it ever left you happy.

“I don’t want to fix it, Jake. I just want it to stop.” Perhaps your poor mood was clouding the level of drunkenness you were experiencing; now that the rage had settled into a dull ache, your head was swimming with intoxication. You weren’t sure what you were thinking, or feeling. All you knew was that it hurt, and it hurt unbearably bad. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“If you’re ending this, at least do it to my face.” The crack in his voice was unmistakable, his fear louder than any other emotion shared that night. “Please, Gold Dust Woman. Don’t end things like this.” You cheeks were already streaked with mascara, your skin damp with the physical remains of your mistakes. You wanted it to stop hurting, but you didn’t know how to put an end to it. Walking away was tempting, but the emptiness in your heart prompted from the thought alone was enough to make you stay. “Let me in. You can yell, or scream, or break things. I don’t care, just let me in.”

“I can’t let you in, Jake. Don’t you get that?” You clamped your teeth down on your bottom lip, holding back the urge to cry out. “Every time I do, it hurts. It shouldn’t be painful to love you.” You were both too caught up in your breaking hearts to notice the declaration of love that you had let slip. “You said intimacy isn’t easy, and I know that, but it shouldn’t hurt this bad.”

“Open the fucking door,” he pleaded, jiggling the handle as he begged for your cooperation. “Y/n, I will break this door down if I have to.” His desperation was evident, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t bear the thought of you being in tears and him not being there to hold you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, despite his previous promises of being a good sport if the situation turned on him. Love had crazed him, and he was too weak to fight it anymore.

You took a step away, looking to the whiskey bottle decorating your nightstand like a trophy of despair. If heartbreak were a competition, you would be in the lead. You reached for it, taking a long drink to satisfy the ache in your heart. You were so lost within suffering that you weren’t even certain what you were hurting over anymore. Yes, Jake had shattered you with his careless flirting, but it had grown far beyond his mistakes. Months of hurting from being stuck between the brothers was breaking you down, leaving nothing left but a mess of guilt and sorrow. You were on the brink of insanity, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before inevitably spiralling out of control. You had no idea who you were, nor where you were going. Time was blur and you were just a pawn within the game, floating through while life happened around you. When he wiggled the handle one more time, the guilt from pushing him away became too much. You took two long strides to the door, using a single finger to pull down the handle, just enough to set the latch free. It took him a moment to process your action, but once he did, he swung the door open like it was the gate to hell.

Sandalwood filled the room, and it’s cold hands reached out for you with a mask of invitation. When you gave in to it, showing signs of weakness, the fingers clasped around your neck in a violent hold. It was enough to bring you to your knees, enough to make you beg for more, even while knowing it would eventually be the very thing that would take your life. You looked to meet his eyes, but neither of you were ready to run to each other in apology. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, bottle in hand with a heavy heart. “Start talking.” He kicked the door shut behind him, but did not move any closer to you.

“You don’t get to come in here and start barking orders.” You shook your head, chuckling as you raised your hand to wipe your cheeks clean of any painful evidence.

“Would you rather have it your way? I can stand in the hallway and wait. Maybe by the morning you’ll sober up enough to talk to me.” He tried his best to keep cool, but he had never felt so much emotion course through his veins at once. Every possible worry was swimming in his head, leaving him desperate for some sort of relief.

“You’re such a self-righteous prick.” You scoffed, slamming the bottle down on the table. “It’s okay when you get pissed off at me and ignore me for three days, but when I do it, it’s the end of the world?” You looked up, finally catching sight of his face. “Sorry, I forgot you’re the only person in the world who’s allowed to feel things.”

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I think you might have things a little mixed up. I dont go around picking fights at the bar in front of everyone. I’m not the one locking you out in the hallway and making you look like an idiot.” He cocked his head to the side, the look in his eye dangerous. You were both volatile, barely needing to be provoked to explode.

“Oh, so it’s an appearance thing! God forbid Jake looks a little silly, I forgot it’s not good for his image when somebody calls him on his shit.” You seethed. “Sorry I ruined your mystical elusive bullshit, or that I made you admit you can feel something deeper than sexual. It’s about time that I realize that it’s part of the rockstar charm to make someone fall for you and then keep them guessing if you feel the same way.”

“Guessing?” He fumed, taking a step towards you. “You really have to guess if I care about you or not?” You stood, just as willing to challenge him.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t letting random bimbo’s feel you up at concerts.” You snapped. “Or is that your backup plan? Love some brotherly competition but not when it gets too tough?”

“You know that’s not true, y/n.” He warned, pointing his finger at you to solidify his truth. “I fucked up. I get it, and I feel like shit about it. I’ll say I’m sorry a million times if I have to, but you don’t get to accuse me of that.”

“I don’t get to?” You reiterated, trying to understand his words. “You deliberately went out of your way to make me jealous. You stood there, dangling her off your arm like a shiny trophy for what? Leverage? A way of telling me that I’m easily replaceable? Or as a way to tell me that you don’t think I’m good enough?” You tried to fight the wavering tone, tears threatening to make another appearance and ruin your moment of power. “You don’t get to be mad, Jake. You don’t get to be upset over something you started. I understand that this whole thing hasn’t been sunshine and rainbows, but you started it! You got me into bed that night knowing I loved him, and you didn’t care about any repercussions! I can’t keep feeling like shit over an outcome you knew would happen!”

“I get to be mad!” He boomed, moving even closer. “I get to be upset, I’m allowed to hurt, I’m allowed to feel everything that you feel, because I’m a fucking person, too!” You were both yelling, uncaring of the late hour or the neighbouring rooms likely filled with sleeping people. “I get to fuck up, and I get to say sorry, just like you do! Just because I signed up for the pain doesn’t mean it feels nice to see you in his arms!”

“Why doesn’t it feel nice, Jake?” You hissed. “Is it because you love me, or is it just because you don’t want him to have me?” He gave you a bewildered look, stunned by your question. It caught him so off guard that the malice temporarily fled him.

“What?”

“You keep acting like you’re innocent, that this whole thing started because you were so enamoured with me, but it’s just not true, is it?” You raised an eyebrow, watching the flood of disdain wash over his face. “That baggage is awfully heavy, Jacob, even if you think you’re carrying it well. This pissing contest with Sam is way bigger than just me. You let me wallow in the guilt and feel like the worst person in the world because I fell for both of you, but you get off on it, don’t you? The thrill of taking something from your brother?” He straightened up, watching you with a fervour. His expression was deadly, eyes dangerous and warning you to stop before you took it too far.

“Y/n,” his voice was low, the tone calm but covering a mountain of red. He was vibrating at the accusation, and was pleading with you to yield. Their history was always left unspoken, and you voicing it back to him did nothing but bring up years worth of pain he’d been desperately trying to forget.

“Do you like passing girls back and fourth? Stealing them right from each others bed and ruining them, just so you two can make up and hug it out later?” He took a step towards you, silent but deadly. “Is it fun? Do you get a good thrill from it? Do you think you can do it forever, or that you’ll always get away with it, and you and Sam can live happily in your little fucked up world?”

“Stop talking, sweetheart,” he said, looking down at you and hoping you would see reason. You were chest to chest, the tension too high to withstand.

“Just answer the fucking question. Do you love me, or do you just love the idea of him not having me?” He didn’t respond, nor did he move an inch. You were yelling in his face, crazed for the truth, but it didn’t seem to bother him at all. “Tell me, Jake! Because I can’t take this anymore! I can’t keep running back and fourth. It never mattered if I made a decision or not, because you two will never fucking stop! I care about you so much, but it just feels like you both only care about beating each other in your twisted little game. I can’t keep falling without knowing someone is going to be there to catch me, because it’s killing me! This is killing me, and it’s never seemed to bother either of you-“ you were cut off by his hand raising and his fingers gently clasping around your neck, silencing any further thoughts.

“You talk a lot, Gold Dust Woman.” He noted, jaw hard set and nostrils flared with rage as he tried to keep it buried under the surface. “If you would shut the fuck up for a minute, maybe I could answer your ridiculous questions.” You watched him, angry but having no fear of him or that he would hurt you. You gave him a slow blink, showing him that you were willing to listen if he was ready to say something meaningful. “If I let go, are you going to behave?” You blinked again, answering his question sufficiently. He slowly released his hold, studying your face for any sign you would start your tyranny again.

“You really think that I like watching him love you? That it’s fun to know you’re tangled in his sheets, with his name painted across your lips?” You didn’t respond, giving him his own moment to voice his feelings. “It’s worse than torture, y/n. Sitting at home at night, or in my hotel room, knowing that I don’t get to hold you, or tell you exactly how I feel about you. You don’t get to tell me if I’m allowed to hurt, and you don’t get to put words into my mouth to make it sound like I’m a piece of shit. You have never been a game to me. What I feel for you has never been anything but true. Sure, maybe I don’t know how to show it all of the time, and maybe I should learn how to talk about my feelings, but you have no right to say that I don’t fucking care about you.” You felt a flash of regret as he spoke, seeing the sincerity underneath the hard exterior. It was so profound that it made your chest ache just hearing it. You couldn’t imagine the pain he was feeling while professing it.

“You think you’re forgettable? Or that you’re not good enough for me? Like I’m trying to find someone to take your spot once I move on?” His face was hovering over your own, tone condescending and filled with accusatory undertones. You wanted to be angry, but you knew that you had done the exact same thing to him. “Fucking answer me.” He barked, eyes burning into you.

“I… I did, yeah. That’s how it made me feel.” You whispered, voice cracking at the thought of his arm around another girl. “It killed me, Jake, and I had to get up on stage and pretend that you hadn’t just ripped my heart out of my chest.”

“Forgetting you has never been an option for me. I’ve been trying since the day I met you, and even more so after I saw the stars dancing in your eyes every single time you looked at him.” Him. Jake didn’t have to say the name for you to know who he was referring to. Jake had been struggling with inferiority long before you’d ever graced him with your touch, and he was finally reaching a breaking point. Every time he saw you and Sam together, it was like a stab to an already open wound. “I don’t know who made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or why they would ever make you feel like that, but you are more than enough for me. So good that it fucking kills me. You’re worse than any addiction I can imagine, and there is nothing after you, y/n. No girls lined up or anything like it, none that even catch my eye, because it’s all you, and it always has been. You are everything to me.” He tried to keep his stern demeanour, but his strength was wavering at the thought of his own love for you.

“I’m not going to stand here and talk down about him, because I don’t know how he feels or what he’s thinking. All I know is that I have been crazy about you since the first time I laid eyes on you, and I still am. I don’t know how to show you, but I have been trying in any way I know how. Yeah, I started this, and sometimes I wish I didn’t, but it has never been because I don’t want you.”

“If we care so much, why is this so fucking hard all of the time!” You exploded, unable to process everything he was saying to you. “If we like being together, why are we always mad at each other!” Your words were not particularly posed as a question, but rather a statement. “At first it was exciting, and the passion kept things interesting, but now it’s fucking exhausting.”

“Because that’s what happens when people care about each other, y/n! You fight, you feel things you don’t normally feel, and everything is a million times harder, especially when you can’t have each other!” He was frustrated, and that was clear. You still weren’t sure how you felt, or if the anger had dissipated enough for you to move on. You knew you were still upset, but there was a small voice in your head begging for you to reach out and hold him, that it would solve all of your problems and you would wake up in the morning without any more pain as long as you woke up next to him.

“Is that your way of asking?”

“Asking what?” He snapped, tired of the back and fourth.

“To love me.” You clarified, your heart erratic as the words left your mouth. He seemed to stop breathing for a moment, shocked at your words. “Because if it is, it fucking sucks.”

“I have been asking you that every single day, y/n.” He corrected. “In everything I do, and everything I say, but you won’t let me.”

“Because it’s not supposed to be this hard, Jake. The yelling, the ignoring, the jealousy and the pushing each other away. It’s not supposed to be like this.”

“Then leave.” He snapped. “Or tell me to leave! If you don’t think this is right, or if you don’t want me, stop pretending you do.” You managed to shake your head at his outburst, terrified that he would step closer, and even more terrified that he would step back. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t seem to let the words pass through your lips. It was tantalizing to love him so deeply but have no idea how to express it.

“I can’t.”

“What’s stopping you?” He scowled. “Why are you so scared to say it? It’s a four letter word, y/n. It won’t hurt you, and I’m sure it’ll feel so much better to get it out.”

“Oh, fuck you.” You hissed, placing your palm on his chest and pushing him backwards. You stepped away, making a move towards the bottle of whiskey on your nightstand. He stepped towards it, too, cutting you off and grabbing it before you could lay your hands on it. You turned your head, shooting him a glare that was piercing enough to disturb his soul.

“Or do you think you’re some kind of martyr?” He hummed, a smirk breaking out on his lips. “You’re so worked up because you’re projecting, aren’t you? Mad at us for playing with you, but you’ve been been the biggest con artist of all.” A rush of fear ran through you, your palms sweaty and your blood cold. “Who told you about Sam and I?” He pressed, finally calling out the most crucial piece to the puzzle.

“It doesn’t matter,” you reached for the alcohol, but he moved his hand so you couldn’t grab it from him.

“Maybe we aren’t the only ones who’ve been up to no good, hmm?” He raised an eyebrow, placing the bottle to his lips and taking a slow drink of the amber liquid. “Have you been trying to teach us a lesson, Gold Dust Woman?” He asked, the bottle barely free from his lips before he spoke again. You averted your gaze, nervous that he’d picked up on your plan so easily. “You’re not innocent either, sweetheart.” He picked up on your expression easily, his question answered without any further confirmation needed. “Tell me, baby. Lying won’t help you now.” His smirk turned into a twisted little smile, thrilled that he finally managed to figure you out.

“You can’t outdo the master,” you muttered, knowing that you had learned that lesson long before that moment. “So it never really mattered, anyway.”

“We all lost, angel. There was never going to be a winner, and you know that.”

“So why are you still trying?” You shot, fed up with his game and ready to retire.

“Why are you?” He responded, stalemating you once more. You stared at him, no words surfacing in your brain that seemed fitting for an answer. “Seems like that little four letter word would solve all of the problems once again. It may even be the answer to all of our questions, too.” You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, knowing that he was right; if you could admit to what you both were feeling, perhaps the pain would be obsolete.

“Give me the bottle, Jake.” You diverted the conversation again, reaching out with annoyance. He pulled his hand away again, shaking his head. You didn’t like the mischievous glint in his eye. It was very clearly telling you that he was no longer interested in talking things over. The demeanour shifted, and the tension in the air quickly turned sexual. He wanted to solve the problems in the best way he knew how, and you were never one to deny him of a wish.

“Now, why would I do that?” He smirked. “Bad girls don’t get what they want, and you’ve been nothing but bad.” He noted, taking a step closer to you. “I love discovering your secrets, Gold Dust Woman. They’re always so much fun.” His tone dropped and he took a step towards you, backing you up onto the bed. When the backs of your knees collided with the mattress, you sat down and looked up at him. Your stomach was burning with desire; your anger still lingering, but almost completely overtaken by hunger for him. It did not take much for Jake to turn you into a mess for him, and seemed like it was his favourite thing to do.

“We can’t use sex to try and fix everything, Jake.” You fought it, but your retaliation was weak. You knew that sex with him could cure even the worst of ailments. It could turn dust into gold and even water into wine. Jake’s trade was sex, and he was the master of it. If you had doubt about anything, it surely wasn’t that. Worst of all, it was completely irresistible.

“I’m not trying to fix anything with sex, angel. I am fixing it, and I’m starting with your shitty attitude.” He explained, already expecting you to know that. “You’ve been sneaky, running around and trying to teach us something that we already know all about. You think this is fun for us? That we enjoy it?”

“N-no,” you shook your head, mouth practically watering at the idea of him. It had been so long since you had a moment alone with him that you almost forgot how enchanting he was.

“You really think that I’m doing this because it’s exciting, or because I get a thrill from stealing you from him?” You didn’t respond, because both of you knew that you had been feeling exactly that. “Am I really going to have to show you how much I care about you?” He mumbled to himself, admiring your face despite his distaste for your actions. “Before anything, I think I might need to remind you of who’s in charge, here. Seems like you forgot that you don’t get to speak to me like that.” With his free hand, he undid the buckle of his belt, smiling at the sight your face. He slowly slipped the leather from the loops of his jeans, carefully sitting it on the bed beside you, hoping to remind you of his love for using it. “Does that sound okay to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.” You said, willing to submit to him as an apology for your earlier actions. In your anger, you had thrown some hurtful accusations his way, one’s that weren’t anywhere near the truth. You were willing to stay in line as long as he didn’t push you too far.

“Good girl,” the small praise sent a rush of arousal through you. “You want some?” He questioned, lifting the bottle of whiskey into your line of vision. Almost as soon as the flame died down, he reignited it worse than it burned before.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking dog,” you snapped, your expression of excitement quickly twisting into a scowl. Unfortunately for you, Jake’s favourite pastime was pushing your buttons, but he wasn’t willing to stand the backtalk. He took his free hand and clasped your cheeks between his fingers, holding your mouth shut in a way much less than gentle.

“I can talk to you however I want, sweetheart.” He warned, eyes hard and lacking any sympathy. “I asked you a question. Do you want some of this?” He tried again, his words slow and impactful. Your gaze flickered from his face to the bottle, teeth grinding together in anger as you nodded your head. “Then open your fucking mouth.” He relaxed his grip on your face, allowing you to obey his command. With little hesitation, you slackened your jaw and parted your lips, expecting him to pour the liquid straight into your mouth. Instead, he brought the bottle to his own mouth, taking a sip and setting it down on the table again.

His lips upturned into a small smile when he looked down and saw your shocked expression. Despite not expecting it, you were intrigued by his intentions. He let his fingers slide down to your chin, tilting your head upwards and holding you in place. He leaned forward, close enough so he wouldn’t miss his target, but distant enough to deprive you of any other touch. Slowly, he let the liquid trickle from his lips into your mouth, neither of you moving until all of the whiskey was dancing around your own tongue. He closed your mouth for you, leaning down a bit further so his lips were ghosting over your own.

“Swallow,” he hummed, encouraging you a little. You did as he asked, feeling the warmth spread through your chest and settle in your stomach. “That’s my girl.” He spoke as his eyes fluttered closed. In appreciation for your obedience, he pulled you in for a kiss. The liquor was still potent on his skin, adding to the intoxicating feeling of kissing him. After all, Jake would not be so familiar if he lacked the scent of sandalwood laced with whiskey, and he would not be so familiar if you did not find yourself drunk off a single kiss. He pulled away, almost unwilling to part with you, but straightened up despite his dismay. “Stand up.”

You rose to your feet, head still spinning with the previous events and a growing ache between your legs that only he knew how to satiate. He cupped your cheek in his hand, drawing you into another kiss. As he did so, he slipped his jacket from your shoulders and discarded it on the floor. He let his hands rest on your hips just below the hem of your shirt, both of you growing more desperate with every second that passed. When he broke away, he took little time to pull your shirt over your head. The air was cool on your skin, but you knew it wouldn’t take long for him to warm you up again. With expert precision, he unbuttoned your jeans and allowed you to slide out of them.

He took a moment to admire you while you stood nearly fully exposed before him. “On the bed,” he ordered, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you. As much as you felt like you couldn’t resist him, he felt it for you a million times more. Jake was such a fool for you that his love for dominance meant little to nothing to him, and he would give it up in a heartbeat if he knew he could please you by doing so. You quickly turned, shuffling into the mattress with your back to him and got on your hands and knees. You knew him well enough to know how he wanted you, and he did not have the patience for you to ask him, anyway. He took a few steps towards you, his palm landing on your lower back in a sweet touch. He let his fingers drift over your skin, savouring the feeling of having you so intimately. His touch eventually landed on your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze before beginning his own tyrant.

“So, what is it, baby? What’s got you so worked up?” He asked, voice low and feigning concern. “Was it the girl at the concert?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, not sure why he was bringing her up, now. You thought you had made your point abundantly clear.

“You were jealous,” he noted, an air of cockiness in his voice. His hands were still dancing over your exposed skin, as if he was trying to familiarize himself with you again. “Right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, hating yourself for being so worked up over the incident.

“Because you thought she would get to have me like this?” His question seemed sincere, like he was genuinely trying to get to the bottom of the issue. “That I would treat her the same way I treat you?”

“I… yeah, I guess.” You admitted, feeling defeated and knowing there was no way out of this situation without explaining yourself. The whole reason you didn’t want to talk to him was not because you enjoyed being without him, but because you were terrible at explaining your feelings. You had no idea how to express your distaste for his actions, and you didn’t want to look like a fool trying to do so.

“Tell me how you feel, angel. I want to know.” He was coaxing the answer from you with sweetness, and when he had you in such a position, it wasn’t hard to do.

“Hurt,” you answered, but you both already knew that. It was the nights main topic. “It hurt seeing someone else touching you. It sucked seeing you touch someone else.”

“Mmm,” he urged you to keep going, thankful that you were finally able to speak without anger in your tone. “Because you want me all to yourself, don’t you?” He asked, slowly moving his hand between your legs.

“F-fuck, yes.” You stuttered, feeling his fingers locate your clit through the fabric of your underwear. “I do, Jake. I don’t want anyone else to have you.” At the delightful confession, he added a bit more pressure to his touch.

“See? It’s not so hard to say that, is it?” He hummed, pleased at your obedience.

“No,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed as you spoke. “It’s scary, sometimes, trying to tell you how I feel.”

“Why, baby?”

“Because I care about you a lot.” The weight on your chest was lifting with every word you said. Jake knew how to get exactly what he wanted from you; all it took was a promise of his hands, and you would tell him the secrets of the universe. Sex with Jake had always been a motivator, but in this case, it had little impact on the overall discussion. You were exhausted from keeping everything locked up in your brain, and you wanted to tell him more than you wanted to keep it hidden. His touch was just encouragement, aiding you in your confession.

“You know I’d never touch anyone else like this.” He reminded. “I’d never treat anyone as good as I treat you.”

“I know,” you breathed, hoping that he would give you more than what he was already offering.

“So why accuse me of not caring, angel?” Your eyes opened, expression dropping as your stomach burned with anxiety. He wasn’t into the sweet confessional; he wanted you to repent for the hurtful words you said, and he wanted to punish you for even thinking them. “Do you think it’s fun to be a brat?” He furthered his question, tone growing stronger as he continued on. “That you can speak to me like that get away with it?”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You did not feel the need to defend yourself; you had made your bed, and now it was time to lay in it. Your only hope was that he would find mercy for you if you showed enough remorse for your actions.

“You’re not sorry, sweetheart. You’d do it again if you had the chance, and that’s why I can’t let you get away with it.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he reached for the belt on the bed beside you. The metallic cling of the buckle sent a shiver of fear through your body, but you kept your position and bargained with the pleasure that was bound to come after the pain. “What was it that you called me?” He pretended to ponder, letting the cool leather dance over your skin to taunt you. “Remind me, again.”

“A self righteous prick.” You mumbled, eyes closed as you braced for impact.

“Right,” he nodded his head, as if it took great effort to recall your insults. “A self righteous prick who thinks he’s god, that cares too much about his image and only wants sex.” He listed off, showcasing that he remembered your words exceptionally well. “Does that sound familiar, or am I missing something?”

“No, that sounds right.” The shame in your voice was astounding, filling the room and weighing you both down.

“Still feel that way, angel?”

“No, sir.” You shook your head. The leather had now warmed to the same temperature as your skin after sitting idle for so long.

“I don’t think I believe you.” He tried to sound sympathetic, but he couldn’t hide the sadistic tone he so often used with you. He was enjoying watching you struggle, and he was going to enjoy everything that came after.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You tried again, but it was futile.

“That was four insults, if I’m counting correctly.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “So… two for each, and two more just because you pissed me off. Ten… I think that’s fair. Do you, sweetheart?” You were in a predicament of fighting and risking further punishment, or agreeing and suffering without trying to defend yourself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yes, sir.” You tried to hide your annoyance, but he could read you like a book, even if he was blinded and deafened.

“Remember your colours?”

“Yes.” You nodded, comforted by the thought of being able to stop if it became too much.

“I always loved the colour red on you.” He crooned, letting his hand run over the thin red lace concealing you. Your stomach settled at the gentle touch, wondering if he was going to be kind to you and change his mind. Just when you let your fears settle, the sharp sting of the belt sounded through the room. You let in a sharp gasp, the feeling catching you off guard and the pain quickly fizzling away. In his own way, he was being kind to you. The strength in which he hit you was nowhere near what he was capable of, and you knew that. He did not get off to the thought of you getting hurt, just to the idea of making you suffer a little bit.

You barely recovered from the pain before he lifted his hand and brought the leather down for another time. You held back a groan, not wanting to show any emotion at all until the punishment was through. “One down,” he said, encouraging you to keep going. His focus was on your ass, which was unfortunate for you to receive so many blows to the same place, but he was doing it for good reason. He didn’t want to risk any marks being visible in any stage clothes, and was aiming to keep your bedroom escapades away from the public eye to save you from any uncomfortable situations. It was thoughtful, but brutal all the same.

He wanted to draw out the experience, but the thought of leaving you without comfort for so long was nearly painful for him. He brought the belt down once more, the force more than he intended. You let out a hiss, flinching away from the contact in hopes to ease the sting. He brought his hand to your skin, letting his fingers drift over the red mark left behind. It was soothing, but barely, mostly because you knew he did not have enough sympathy for you to stop there. In truth, you did not expect him to. You were mean, and what you had said to him was not fair. Jake cared about you, and that was never something you should have questioned. Your emotions got the best of you, convincing you that you were less than what he truly thought you were worth.

When you showed signs of recovery, he wasted no time in striking again. The fourth was much gentler, but on top of the already irritated skin, seemed much more violent than it truly was. By the fifth one, your teeth were grinding together to keep yourself silent. By the sixth, tears were pooling in your eyes. You did not have faith in yourself to make it to the end, but you were not one to give up so easily. When he struck for the seventh time, it knocked the breath from your lungs and left your legs quivering. When the sting subsided, you let out a whimper of relief. The sound settled in his chest, prompting a feeling of guilt. “Have you had enough, or do you still feel that way?”

“N-no, I don’t. I’m sorry.” You rasped, tears rolling down your face. “M’so sorry, Jake.” The sincerity of your voice nearly brought him to his knees and he had to shake himself out of his thoughts to keep himself in character. With a clenched jaw, he raised his arm and brought the belt down to your skin once more. You let a raw cry out at the impact, the pain intense and the only thing you could focus on. He let the belt drop to the floor, finished with his mission and worried he pushed you too far. He moved to lay a hand on your skin again, hoping to soothe the ache. When you shied away from his touch, a wave of terror washed over him.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asked, his hand opting to find your hip rather than the red skin on your ass. You took in a shaky breath, propping yourself on your elbow as you tried to catch your breath.

“That was only eight.” You reminded. He cocked his head to the side, processing the statement with confusion. “You said ten.” He let out a small laugh, one filled with disbelief at your words.

“You want two more?” He asked, clarifying before moving on.

“No! I just… you said ten, and… yeah.” You trailed off, finally able to gather your thoughts as the ache began to fade.

“I think I’ve made my point.” He explained, prompting you to straighten up so you could look at him. “You did so well that I don’t believe you need two more.” He hid the truth, which was that he did not have the heart for two more. He thought he pushed you far enough, and the idea of giving you any type of lasting injury greater than superficial was sickening to him. “Come here,” he beckoned you towards him, guiding you into his lap. With great ease, he lifted you and settled you into his arms. You let your legs find home on either side of him, melting into the touch and almost forgetting the pain he had inflicted on you moments before. He let his hands settle on your hips, pulling you down just a little further in search of relief from the erection strained against his jeans. “I knew you could be good for me,” he mumbled, distracted by the closeness of your face and the friction of you against him. “It wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No,” you replied, also lost in his features. With him so close to you, nothing else existed. If it did, it was completely unimportant to you. He leaned forward, capturing you in a kiss too sweet to match the nights intensity. You brought a hand to his cheek, holding him to you as your other found his arm to keep yourself steady. Truthfully, it was just another excuse to touch him. With his hands on you, you had no fear of falling. Even if you doubted it, deep down you knew Jake would always be there to catch you.

He moved his hands to your back, unclasping your bra with ease. You loosened your grip on him so he could take it off. When it was discarded on the floor, he ran his thumb over your nipple. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, prompting you to grind your hips against him. He let out a low groan against your lips, parting with you to suck in a sharp breath. To cover his own desperation, he brought his lips back to you, peppering kissing down your cheek to your jaw and settling on your neck. He let his lips dance over the sensitive skin, careful not to leave behind any marks amidst his passionate endeavour. When he found that sweet spot he was searching for, you let out a shaky sigh as your arm wrapped around his neck. You let your fingers dance in his hair, uncaring of the unusual sweetness of the moment.

You let out a gasp, hips moving down on him again as he continued his work on your neck. In an automatic response, a growl sounded from him, showing his appreciation for your enthusiasm. He moved his fingers, forgoing his previous gentleness, and pinched your nipple between his fingers. A whimper fell from your lips, lighting a fire in him at the sound. His hand dropped from your breast, falling to your hip as his fingers dipped under the elastic of your underwear. Faster than you could comprehend, he gave a sharp pull and the lace easily broke away from your skin.

“Jake-“ you made a move to voice your discontent with his action, but he was already in motion, shifting to lay you down on the bed and settle between your legs.

“Shut up. I’ll buy you whatever you want to replace it.” He huffed, using his hand again to break the other side free. You were so eager for him to touch you that you couldn’t find the will to care about the fabric he had destroyed. The skin that he had wounded was stinging in reaction to the fabric of the blankets, but the pain was easily forgotten as he discarded the remains of your underwear on the floor and moved downward between your legs. He hooked his arms beneath your thighs and pulled you down on him, his mouth connecting with your cunt as he disregarded any more discussion.

You let out a moan, overwhelmed by the sudden change. His tongue moved quickly and with intent; he wasn’t eager to tease and was desperate to give you an orgasm, partially because he loved pleasing you, but mostly due to his desire to fuck you. Your hands found his hair, already needy enough to pull on the strands as encouragement for him to keep going. He hummed against you, almost smiling at your crazed reaction. He knew what he did to you, and he was intending to prove a point.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered, almost unsure of what to do with yourself. The pleasure from his simple work was unexplainable, and you were on the brink of insanity from his tongue alone. Just the same as the first night, you had yourself convinced that Jake was a simple reincarnation of the devil. Put on this earth in a mortal body to inflict suffering on others, but most specifically you. It was hard to feel remorseful about your entanglement when a simple touch from him alone could outshine any other existing thing in the universe. Evil was coursing through his veins, and you were the prey he chose to take for his own. Even so, it was hard to feel like prey when every touch he graced you with was blissful, and it was hard to recognize you were dying when the descent was so pleasant.

Sinful was not a powerful enough word for what Jake was doing to you; it was godless, and you feared that a human being could not house power over another like he had on you. As a whole, he was iniquitous. His advantage over others was unfair, and he chose to use it for evil. But, you were in no position to point a finger, because your enjoyment left you just as criminal as him. You could shame Jake for his unrighteous acts, but you knew that you were no better simply for allowing it to continue.

You had become the boy who cried wolf, denouncing him for placing you amidst the painful battle, but you were no better for allowing him access to you despite its disastrous effects. It was no longer believable that he was causing you any harm because you were so willing to accept his invitations.

He added his fingers to you, driving you closer to a climax instantly. Your hips moved in search for more, and every time you thought he was unable to provide, he managed with ease. Your abdomen ached from your tensed muscles and your stomach was burning in hopes for a release. “Oh god, Jake, I’m gonna cum.” You warned, forehead glistening with sweat from the intensity of the feeling. You noticed his hips grinding into the mattress as he worked, desperate for relief, too. The knowledge of his enjoyment from giving you pleasure was a driving force, sending your already exhausted body into a frenzy. He couldn’t verbally encourage you, so he hoped his focus was enough to let you know that it was okay, and that it was exactly what he needed from you.

The orgasm washed over you like a storm of emotion, the relief alone enough to bring you to tears again. Your muscles were tense, your lungs depraved of oxygen as you cried his name. He didn’t slow until he was certain he had given you the absolute most he could. When your legs relaxed and your body fell limp onto the mattress again, he tapered his movements until he eventually pulled away from you completely.

He caught his breath, wiping away the remnants of your orgasm from his chin. His eyes studied your face, trying to memorize every detail so he could relive the moment later. In a soft touch, his hands drifted over your thighs and all the way up to your stomach, the featherlight sensation sending a shiver down your spine. He moved back up your body, unable to resist the urge to kiss you again. You drew him closer to you, hoping that you could hold him there and exist in the blissful cloud forever. He revelled in the touch only for a moment before rising to his feet again. His eyes drifted over the table on your bedside, taking note of all the items on the surface. He adjusted himself in his jeans as he reached out for one.

Your initial thought was the whiskey, but when his hand surpassed the bottle, you pulled yourself from the euphoria in attempt to comprehend his thoughts. His fingers settled on the keycard to your room, in which he picked up and slid between his fingers, flashing it in your line of sight so you could see what he had grabbed. You sat up, fear striking you similar to the first night you shared with him. “You’re leaving?” You asked, worry evident in your tone.

“Oh, now you want me to stay?” He teased, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “I’ll be back, Gold Dust Woman.” He assured you, but did not lean forward for any further touch. “I want you exactly like this when I get back. Do you understand?” You managed a small nod, wondering when his return would be. Knowing Jake, he could have meant five minutes, or five hours. His air of mystery was constant, and he did not like disturbing it.

“Yes, sir.” You said, eyes never leaving him. At your confirmation, he stepped towards the exit of the room. You opened your mouth to stop him, but no words came out. Instead, you watched him slip through the doorway and into the hall without any further explanation. The lock clicked shut behind him, and he disappeared as if he never existed in the first place. The deafening silence in the room was too much to bear, and the lack of company was crushing. The only reminder of his presence was the lingering tingle on your skin from the ghost of your orgasm.

You watched the door, the seconds passing by slowly, and your hope fizzling away with each minute that went by. You looked around the room, noticing only his jacket and belt on the floor, but no other reminders of him. There was nothing worth coming back for, aside from you. You had to find faith that you were worth the return, and it proved to be a struggle. You weren’t bound to the bed, nor the room. You could freely dress yourself and wander after him to discover where he was headed to. The idea was tempting, but there was a prickling fear of him coming back to find you away from the spot he was so keen on you staying in. Knowing Jake, you thought it best to stay and hope he was being genuine.

By minute five, the unsettling feeling was taking over. You could feel it in your bones, the fear of him returning to his room and going to bed. Although horrible, you did feel like the treatment would not be unwarranted. You had put him through hell that night, and you were unsure if you would ever be able to make up for it. When all hope was lost and the minute counter reached double digits, you collapsed onto the pillows in a heap of regret for your actions. Your chest ached with remorse and your heart was breaking at the memory of his pain stricken features. Before you descended too far into your own despair, the electronic click of the lock sounded, and the door opened once more.

Jake stepped inside, a styrofoam cup in his hand and a smile on his face. “Hi, angel.” He greeted you as if he had not left you in a complete state of disarray. He immediately noticed the relief on your face, finding his ego return at the knowledge that you wanted his company. “What’s wrong? Did you really think I’d leave you here like this?” He asked, tone dripping with fake concern.

“You? Never.” You managed a smile and a small laugh. He got a chuckle out of your comment too, ensuring that the door was shut tightly before returning to the bedside. Your eyes landed on the cup, curious as to what he felt was so important that he had to leave to retrieve.

“You knew I’d come back, sweetheart. Still have a point to prove, remember?” He reminded, looking down at you as he spoke. His eyes drifted over your naked body, the sight almost sending him feral. His composure was hanging by a thread, and you didn’t even have to do anything to worsen it. He sat the cup on the table alongside the keycard, but instead of climbing into bed with you again, he pulled his shirt over his head. You let out an audible sigh of satisfaction, thankful that he still had some kindness left in his heart for you. You peered inside the styrofoam, noticing nothing but ice. You looked back to him, dumbfounded only for a moment before realizing why he had left. The ice was not to chill any refreshments; it was just another thing for him to terrorize you with.

When he freed himself from the rest of his clothes, he dipped his fingers into the cup and pulled out a single ice cube. You settled back on the mattress, inviting him in. He took to the bed, finding himself back in his earlier position with ease. He gently laid the ice cube on your stomach, looking up at you with a smile. “Are you starting to remember how much I care, angel?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, focused mostly on the frigid feeling on your skin. He let out a low chuckle at your response. Instead of replying, he lowered his mouth to your stomach, just above where the ice was slowly beginning to melt from the heat of your body. He brought his tongue to the droplets, slowly running it over the skin to rid you of the water. You took in a sharp breath, the feeling of warmth from his mouth offsetting the chill from the ice almost immediately.

With ease, he slowly ran the ice up your torso. The cold was a shock, but quickly soothed with his tongue. When he reached just below your chest, he scooped the ice into his mouth and brought his lips to your nipple. He pulled it into his mouth, letting the ice sit on you before he made any further moves. The chill sent your back arching off the bed, an involuntary reflex that was prompted by the sensation. Once your nipple was hard, he began moving his tongue. A whine sounded from your throat as he continued, the feeling completely new and exciting. He continued on until the ice was a distant memory and your skin was warm once more.

When he pulled back, a shaky breath left your lips. He looked up, pleased at your expression. He gave you a smile, happy that you seemed to enjoy the change in pace. “Did you like that, beautiful?” Such a sweet name send your morals crashing down, no further care about your fight before finding yourselves in the position. You never seemed to catch any softness from Jake during sex, and when you did, it was earth shattering. The high energy and excitement was fantastic, but when you saw love dancing in his eyes, it reminded you of a whole different side of Jake you wished you could know.

“Yeah,” you said, but your focus was not on his words. You both seemed to be caught in a staring contest, clinging to the adoration in each others gaze in hopes to discover what had been so often left unsaid. “Can I try?” He laughed at your question, suddenly overtaken by the soft spot he held for you.

“If you want to.” The glimmer in his eye was so different than what you had seen from him before. It was one that was begging you to let him keep you like this for the rest of his life, and it was beautiful. Jake was not trying to prove he cared for you through rough sex and orders; he was doing the opposite, something you least expected of him. He was showing you himself to you completely, in the most intimate way possible.

“Okay, lay down.” You giggled, playfully shoving him off of you. He dramatically fell to the side of you, collapsing on the bed in a heap of laughter as he did. Dominance was natural to him, but vulnerability wasn’t. It was his last opportunity to show you how much you truly meant to him, and he was going to do whatever it took to make you understand. He assumed your position, nestled in the pillows and watching you experiment with him.

You grabbed your own ice cube, placing it between your lips as you watched him. Instead of bringing it to his body, you approached him for kiss. With surprise, he accepted the offer and snaked his hand to your hip, guiding you towards him. It was messy, both of you passing the melting ice back and fourth with little grace, but it was right. It felt right to be so careless with him, not needing to worry if he thought you were making a fool of yourself, and not worrying if he was enjoying himself. Both of you were having a grand time, and it was solely because you were in each other’s company. When the ice landed back in your mouth, almost melted but still hanging on, you moved away from him. He almost seemed disappointed at the loss of contact, but the drunken haze of desire in his eyes told you he was excited for your next move, too.

You sank down on the mattress, laying on your stomach between his legs while giving him a sweet smile. The breath caught in his throat, hoping that you were going to do what he thought you were. You lowered your head, bringing your hand to him as you brought your mouth to his cock. He let out a shaky breath, unfamiliar with the feeling of letting someone else be in control. You brought the ice to the tip of your tongue and ran it from the base of his cock to the tip, slow and steady with your pace. His eyes fluttered closed, the sensation completely foreign yet enjoyable, mostly because it was you that was doing it. You repeated the action a few times until the ice has melted completely. Once it did, you brought your mouth to the tip and slowly began bobbing your head down on him. You kept your focus there for a moment, attempting to show him that slow could sometimes be better. He would never admit it, but in that moment he would have agreed with you.

He let out a sigh, his small way of telling you that he thought you were doing a great job. Once the feeling of him in your mouth became familiar again, you picked up the pace a bit. To him, the speed was still agonizingly slow compared to what he was used to, but he was willing to allow you to lead the way. He reached down and gathered your hair in his hand, keeping it away from your face as you worked at him. As you relaxed your jaw and took him further, your eyes fluttered up to meet his. The eye contact was almost too much for him; he thought he might finish at the sight alone. In fear of the moment ending, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the pillow to stop the impending orgasm. He tightened his grip on your hair, thrusting his hips upwards gently to meet the time of your mouth.

You focused on steadying your breathing, and then made your attempt to take his full length. When the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, he let out a groan, one that was surely the most heavenly sound you had ever heard in your entire life. You felt him twitch in your mouth, an obvious sign that he was close. If it were up to you, you would have let him finish, but he used his hand in your hair to pull you off of him. “Is that your way of saying sorry?” His chest heaved for breath as he asked the question. You looked to him, fearful that he was not enjoying the moment as much as you were. When he saw the fear dancing in your eyes, he was quick to speak again. “Because it’s working.” He added, settling your anxiety. “Come here.” He released the hold on your hair, beckoning you towards him. You moved upwards, straddling him again. He held your hips up as he shuffled upwards too, resting his back against the headboard of the bed. “You never fail to amaze me, Gold Dust Woman.” He hummed, raising a hand to your cheek in a soft embrace. You leaned into the touch, reaching down to line him up with you.

“Sometimes I feel like I exist just to please you.” You admitted, sinking down on him as a soft moan left your lips.

“If you do, you’re doing a fantastic job.” He assured you, pulling your upper half down towards him. You rested your forehead on his as you began to rock your hips. “But you exist for far more than that, angel.” He didn’t even care about the slow pace, nor the lack of control. He was so focused on loving you that he could almost forget that he was fucking you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his eyes drift over the soft details of your face. “You have no idea how important you are, y/n. This world exists just so you can live in it.” Normally, the profound emotions he was displaying would have sent you running, terrified of intimacy and vulnerability. Deep down, you knew that running was not a question anymore. You were in this until the end, and any ideas of having a fair shot at control was just not true. Jake and Sam were always in charge, running the show how they pleased and with little care. Even so, all the pain no longer mattered, because you were in love. So deeply and unconditionally in love with them that it was almost impossible to comprehend. So in love that it was impossible to communicate it, because words did not amount to anything close to what you were feeling.

“Do you see it, yet?” He asked, helping you move your hips. “Do you feel how much I care for you?”

“I do, Jake.” You nodded against him, the verbal confirmation not seeming like it was enough. “I’m sorry for questioning it. I never should have doubted you.” You said, feeling like your heart was going to explode. “I hope you can see that I feel the same way.”

“Say it, Gold Dust Woman.” He pleaded, fingers digging into the skin of your hips. “I need to hear it.”

“Jake,” you warned, knowing that you were both treading dangerous waters.

“Please, y/n. I can’t be the one to say it first, because it won’t mean anything if I do.” You had never seen or heard Jake so desperate for anything in your entire time of knowing him. “If you feel it, just say it. We’ve already said it a million different ways, just not like this. It’s not as scary as it seems, and I swear to you that I’ll keep it safe.” Your heart felt like it was breaking, yet mending all at the same time. He was right, you had said it in every way except for direct, and you were scared of something you had been feeling since the beginning.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, opening your eyes to look at him. He looked up at you, gaze clouded with an unfamiliar emotion. If you looked close enough, you would have noticed the gloss of tears shining under the adoration. “I love you.” You said it again, stronger than the last. “I love you so much that it hurts. I don’t know how to love someone, or what it even means, but I know that I feel it for you, and I have for a long time.”

“I love you, Gold Dust Woman.” You both opted to ignore the shaking of his voice. He moved forward, slinking his arms around you as he pulled you into a hug. You wrapped your own around his neck, holding on to him with the same fervour. He moved so he could lay you down on the mattress, shifting so he was between your legs again. It was his favourite place to be, and even more so now that the weight of the confession had been lifted off your chests. As if he’d turned feral once again, he guided your leg around him and took over control once more. He thrusted into you with more power than before, the feeling eliciting a moan from your lips.

He only continued on his pace for a few moments before his attention was drawn elsewhere. His eyes scanned the room, shining with mischief as they settled on the sliding door to the balcony. “Do you trust me?” He looked back to you with a wicked smile.

“Of course I do,” you gasped, feeling the tip of his cock brush against your cervix.

“I have an idea,” he announced, slowing his hips to a stop. You let out a groan at that loss of movement, unsure if you were willing to go along with his plan if it meant you had to stop. “Come on,” he said, drawing back from you and making a move to stand. You watched him in confusion, but sat up and slid off the bed anyway.

“What are we doing?” You asked as he helped you stand.

“You told me you loved me, Gold Dust Woman.” He reminded. “I think that calls for a celebration.” He guided you towards the doors, using his free hand to slide it open.

“Jacob, absolutely not.” You recoiled, staring at the dark balcony with wide eyes.

“Oh come on, angel. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He smirked.

“What if someone sees us?” Your voice was shrill, terrified at the thought of being caught.

“Just means I get to show the world how much I love you.” He said, the smirk growing into a smile. You watched him in disbelief, unsure if he was even being serious. “Get out there, sweetheart.” He ordered, the flash of dominance returning to his lust clouded pupils.

“I don’t want to get caught.” You shook your head, but still found yourself admiring his beauty in the dimly lit room. You were certain that he had the power to convince you to jump from a cliff if he looked at you for long enough.

“Then you better keep quiet and cum fast.” He was no longer willing to debate the topic, watching you with expecting eyes. You knew the softness would not last long, but you had no idea that it was turn into a show of exhibitionism. He gave you a look of warning, to which you couldn’t deny. You stuck your head out of the door, noticing that none of the other patios seemed to be occupied. Next, you looked to the ground, noticing the minimal movement below. The world was quiet, and there was no better time to explore pleasure like such. With a deep breath and an air of blind confidence, you stepped out into the night, the cool air stinging your warm skin.

He followed, seeming barely concerned about your surroundings. He let his hands slip to your hips, giving you a small comfort in knowing that if you were going to be caught, he would have to take the fall with you. “See? You’re okay.” He assured you, mouth hovering over your ear. You gave a small nod, allowing him to guide your upper half down and pull your hips back towards him. You gripped the rail of the balcony with your hands to keep yourself steady, feeling himself line himself up with you. “If you want to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling a bit more comfortable than you were when you first emerged. With a hand on your shoulder, he pulled you back on him, letting out a small sigh of relief. Once he knew you were steady in your position, he brought both hands to your hips to hold you in place as he began thrusting. Your eyes were begging to close, lulled by the ecstasy of feeling him inside you, but your mind would not allow it. You were on edge, nervous about someone seeing you, but the more he fucked into you, the less you cared.

You let a moan slip past your lips, quickly silencing yourself with hope that it went unnoticed. “That’s my girl,” he purred, ecstatic at your enjoyment. “Do you like being a little whore for me?” His voice was low, but it was loud and clear to you. It settled deep in your stomach, the beginning of the tightening knot.

“God, yes.” You whispered, the anxiety fleeing you indefinitely.

“Feel so fucking good, angel.” He took a sharp intake of breath, likely cutting off his own sounds of pleasure. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, quickly finding your clit with his fingers. The added stimulation from the circles he was tracing were means of torture. He knew that it would be impossible to stay silent, and he was being an asshole on purpose. He sped his hips, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the empty air. If there was anyone below, it would not be difficult to imagine what was happening above. He increased the pressure of his touch, hoping that he would either coax an orgasm from you, or at least pry another moan out of you.

You clenched your jaw, holding back as much as you could, but every so often a noise too strong to hold back would surface and cut through the silence. He felt you clench around him, a sure sign that you were close, and he wasn’t one to miss an opportunity. He slammed his hips into you, quickening the movement of his fingers. You were lightheaded, mind swirling with plenty of thoughts but none that made any sense. “Cum on my cock, baby.” He muttered, encouraging you to let go. You didn’t need the help, because the knot in your belly had let go. You legs were shaking and you could barely hold yourself up. He used his hand to cover your mouth, ensuring that you could ride out your orgasm without worry. When you began to descend from the euphoria, you expected him to slow, too. Instead, he continued on his brutal pace, not ready to end the night just yet. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”

“I can’t, Jake.” You whimpered, trying to keep yourself silent. The more he moved, the less control you had over yourself.

“You can,” he promised. The irritating sensation from his fingers was overtaking every other feeling in your body, the overstimulation begging to break your psyche. “Be good for me,” he continued with his gentle words, knowing that if you didn’t let go soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Your body was on fire with everything he had put you through that night, and his wish was not hard to comply with. Even though the feeling of his fingers seemed like too much, you couldn’t deny the pull of pleasure underneath the discomfort.

“Fuck,” you croaked, the insatiable sting finally overwhelming your body in a moment of weakness.

“That’s it, sweet girl.” He sighed, feeling you descend into another climax. He was most concerned with holding your body upright, so he had to forgo silencing you with his palm. You were too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet, the fear obsolete next to the pleasure he was giving you. In a mess of curses and sweaty bodies, you came down from the high with stars dancing in your eyes. When he felt you relax against him, he finally allowed himself to let go, spilling into you as he echoed your name into the night. He fucked his release into you a few times before pulling away, just as a final note to end the night with. He heaved a sigh, coming back to reality and realizing the obscene display you were in. “Come on, angel. Let’s get you inside.”

You let him lead you back into the hotel room, body and mind exhausted from the high energy the night held. You both cleaned up, minds begging for sleep, but found that your hearts were aching just a little less than before. Jake pulled on his boxers, lazily throwing his shirt to you while he did so. “Are you staying?” You looked up at him, hope gleaming through the exhaustion.

“Of course I am, baby.” He said as if the question were blasphemous. You slid under the covers, making room for him to get in beside you. Once he was settled, he pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I never should have said that stuff.”

“I am, too.” The apologies were minimal, but stronger than they appeared. You closed your eyes, settling your head on his chest and listening to the lull of his heartbeat. “Can you say it again?” He asked, voice quiet and barely breaking through the night.

“That I’m sorry?” You asked, wondering what he meant.

“No,” he mumbled. When you realized what he wanted to hear, your heart warmed at the thought of him wanting to hear it again. All of your fears of rejection, the fear of intimacy and vulnerability was no longer important. From the sound of his voice alone, you knew that his need to know you cared was far more important than your attempts at protecting yourself.

“I love you, Jake.”

And there it was; the statement so heavy that it had tantalized you for months, slipping past your lips like the easiest thing you had ever said. It was true, and it was so exhilarating to finally speak aloud.

But even so, as exciting as the proclamation was, it did not hinder you from falling into the same patterns as you had before. If anything, it did nothing but make it all the more painful.

You better put your kingdom up for sale

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