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kittenofdoomage · 1 year

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Obeying Temptation

Summary: She’s not a good Christian girl by any stretch, but he might still have some fun corrupting her.

Pairing: Alpha!Demon!Dean x Omega!female!reader

Word Count: 8481

Warnings: soooo much blasphemy, religious themes, smut (incl. fingering, full penetrative sex and oral sex), A/B/O (incl. scenting, knotting, marking, mentions of bodily fluids), angst, drama, demonic possession, mentions of breeding kink, dirty talk, derogatory names, hands on throats, biting, bruising, abandonment, slight dubcon and implied murder of religious clergymen, ambiguous ending

Ao3 Link

Author Note: Happy New Year everyone, enjoy some blasphemy before 2023 kicks in 😈

Church had always felt like a chore. In truth, it was more her mom’s thing than Y/N’s, but she obeyed the rules of her mother’s house, since she was stuck living there until she could find a job that paid better than minimum wage. Every Sunday, she put on one of the hideous Sears dresses her Aunt Margaret sent every birthday and followed her mother to church. Her mom didn’t make her sit at the front with the rest of the gossipy old ladies that liked to speculate on the love lives of the other attendees, at least.

It was hard not to zone out when Father Taggart droned on about the importance of community and keeping Jesus in your heart, and if she could have gotten away with it, she would have played on her phone until the service was done. She’d never understood the purpose of “God’s House”, preferring to believe His house was everywhere, seeing as he was supposed to be ubiquitous.

Today’s sermon was more of the same. Y/N sat away from most of the other parishioners, listening as the greying vicar rambled through Matthew 22-something, her attention wandering around the stone archways of the old building. As her eyes drifted, she noticed someone in the darkness to the left near the confessionals, a good few meters away from the pews.

He stepped forward, white collar catching her gaze first. Another priest? she wondered, and his eyes met hers. A smile tugged at his lips but it was nothing like the smile she would expect to see on a vicar’s face. This smile was calculating, cunning… predatory. Despite the distance between them, she could tell he was an Alpha, unusual for a man of the cloth; she wished she could see him more clearly but he was almost entirely bathed in shadows.

“And now, I would like to invite a new voice to speak,” Father Taggart announced, and Y/N dragged her eyes from the shadowy priest to the front again, though she could feel him watching her still. “May I introduce Father Crowley, who will be standing in for Father Grayson now he has retired.”

She remembered Father Grayson, though she’d only met him a few times when she’d picked her mom up from her Wednesday night prayer group. He was at least a hundred years old, she was sure of it, bent double and hair as white as snow. Maybe he should have retired a few years earlier.

The man who stepped up with a polite nod at Father Taggart was in his late forties, or maybe early fifties - she was never very good at judging age. He had dark hair and a slightly unkempt beard, but she supposed he was attractive. For a priest.

“Thank you, Father Taggart,” the newcomer crooned, his British accent making a few of the older ladies whisper among themselves. “It is a pleasure to be speaking to you all today. As he explained, myself and Father Winchester will be standing in for Father Grayson until a suitable permanent replacement can be found.” He smiled, looking out upon his audience. “I’m sure we will feel right at home in your wonderful parish.”

Y/N glanced back to the shadows, wondering if the mysterious Alpha was Father Winchester, but he was gone. She shuddered, feeling a chill in the air as Father Taggart gave Father Crowley a further welcome, then called everyone to stand for the last hymn.

Hymns had always been the part of church she enjoyed. Singing in general was a hobby, one to be practised away from anyone who would hear her, so hymns offered her a way to sing without being singled out in a crowd. The church organ player situated herself, then began to play as Father Taggart instructed the mass to turn to Holy God, We Praise Thy Name.

The mysterious priest didn’t appear again.

It always took forever to get her mom in the car after services, usually because she was still chatting with her friends. Y/N hung around the grassy front, toying with her keys as she waited, listening to her mom pass comment on the “hot new priest”.

“You know he’s still twenty years younger than you, right?” she called out, making her mom glare in her direction.

Agnes, her mom’s best friend, prodded her. “Did you see that other one?”

“No?” Her mom frowned, glancing over at her daughter. “There was another one?”

“Mmhmm,” Agnes nodded. “Younger. Very handsome. Maybe Y/N…”

“Oh, god, Agnes, please,” Y/N interjected, holding a hand up to stop the older woman. “I’m not interested in any guys, priests or not. Besides, I thought they’re supposed to be celibate?”

Agnes and her mom chuckled. “That’s a common misconception,” her mom advised, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna know,” she mumbled, scrunching up her face in disgust.

“Oh come now, dear,” Agnes chided softly, “you can’t expect to live at home forever. We all have a body clock, you know, Omegas most of all.”

It was difficult not to roll her eyes at the outdated opinion, so she decided not to engage in yet another discussion about how Omegas weren’t just breeding sows. Jingling the keys, she turned her attention to her mother, giving her a tight smile. “Can we get going, Mom? I wanna enjoy the rest of my weekend.”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Agnes.”

“Take care, Judith. Goodbye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” Y/N muttered, already marching towards the car. Judith followed at a leisurely pace, ignoring the impatience of her daughter as she climbed into the passenger seat. Turning the key in the engine, Y/N glanced back to check the rear of the vehicle, making sure she didn’t hit the black classic parked behind her.

“Agnes is only worried, you know,” her mom started.

“Mom -”

“I know, I know, none of my business. But I would like to see a grandchild…”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Mom.”

Judith went quiet, clamping her mouth shut with a grin. Y/N pulled the car out of the spot and sped off, hoping that her stern tone was enough to put the subject to bed. They were silent the whole way home, and when they got inside, Y/N retreated to her room to lose herself in something distracting.

By Monday morning, she’d forgotten most of the encounter, and began her week at work with a smile. Her job kept her busy, and though she hated the majority of her duties, she liked that it occupied her mind and she never had to take it home with her.

Sunday rolled around with a storm, the second of the week. The weather had been all kinds of crazy since summer had hit, and when she arrived at church with her mother, they had to run in to avoid getting drenched. Judith toddled off to her usual spot, and Y/N, once again, found sanctuary at the back. It was emptier than usual, likely due to the rain, and she could hear it on the church roof above the crowd.

Father Crowley stood at the front, waiting for everyone to get settled, and when Y/N looked around, she couldn’t see Father Taggart. Her mom was sitting with Agnes, both of them whispering to each other, and they fell silent when Father Crowley called for quiet.

“I have some grave news to give you all today,” he began, and several parishioners sat up straighter. “Father Taggart has been taken ill, so he will not be conducting service today. I would like to ask you all to hold him in your prayers, and hope for a full recovery.”

Y/N tensed, a new scent tickling her nose. The pew she was sitting on was empty save for her, and she looked to either side, searching for the source of the smell. It was thick and rich, invading her senses, inexplicably Alpha.

Movement from the darkness at the left of the church caught her eye. She focused, seeing him standing in the shadows by the door that led out to the graveyard, and for a second, she could have sworn his eyes were black. Her hands shook as she clutched the church-copy of the bible, unable to take her eyes off of him.

Father Crowley was speaking again, delivering a sermon every inch as boring as Father Taggart’s, and Y/N wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention. She stared at the mysterious priest in the shadows, feeling her heart rate speed up, and a light sweat broke out on her forehead. Her lips parted as she panted lightly, suddenly aware of what was happening.

She needed air.

Getting to her feet, she tried not to stumble, being as quiet as possible as she headed for the main entrance. No one seemed to pay her much attention, most of them listening to Father Crowley, so she escaped unnoticed, closing the door behind her.

It was still raining. The only thing that protected her was the awning over the doorway. She didn’t care, gulping down fresh air as she tried to control herself. “It’s too early,” she muttered, shaking her head.

The door opened behind her. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” It was her mom, and Y/N turned, nodding.

“It’s fine, Mom, I’ll just go wait in the car.”

Judith didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “It’s Sunday, it might be a while.”

“Can I help you, ladies?”

The low rough voice made them both turn, and Y/N almost yelped at the sight of the mysterious priest. In the dull light of the storm, she could see every detail of his handsome features, and her mouth went dry as she drank in all six feet of him. “My daughter isn’t feeling well,” Judith explained before she could stop her.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N insisted. “I can wait in the car.”

“If you’re feeling unwell, you can sit in the rectory until service is finished,” the priest offered.

Judith smiled, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, Father Winchester, that would put my mind at ease.” She glanced at her daughter. “I don’t think you’ve met yet. Y/N, this is -”

“Father Winchester,” Y/N whispered, staring at him. “I’d really be okay in my car.”

Her mom frowned then, reaching out to take her hand. “Please, Y/N, I’d be happier if you weren’t alone out here.”

She wanted to scream. Father Winchester was an Alpha, though her Beta mother wouldn’t scent it. He smiled at her, and she felt a thread of fear knot in her stomach. “It’s only next door,” he said smoothly, gesturing to the covered walkway that ran around the side of the old building. “Your mother can come and find you when she’s done.”

Her mother’s pleading gaze made her heart drop. She nodded reluctantly, and Judith beamed, clasping her hands over Y/N’s, tilting her head as she gazed at the priest gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Father,” she gushed, patting her daughter’s hand before scurrying back inside.

Father Winchester held out an arm, gesturing to the footpath. “It’s this way.” He stepped off, and Y/N followed. His scent filled her mouth and nose, making her stomach churn, and she couldn’t help staring at his muscular frame from behind him.

The rectory was a neat little house behind the church and the graveyard, far enough away from the other buildings that it was eerily silent. It was still raining, less enthusiastically than it had been before, but enough for her to feel her clothes getting wet as she followed the priest across the back of the graveyard. He paused after he’d opened the front door, holding it for her to slip past, and she felt a chill as she did. The door closed behind him, turning to face her as she hovered in the hallway.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked politely. It felt forced, and his intense stare made her insides quiver.

“Uh, sure.”

He smiled - the same predatory look he’d given her before. “The kitchen is through here.” Leading with his hand, he didn’t wait for her to follow, though she did, letting her gaze travel over the aged wallpaper and the few old pictures hanging on the walls. Most of them were religious or with the church itself as a subject, and for a moment, she wondered if Father Taggart was home, seeing as he was ill.

“How is Father Taggart?” she asked curiously. “Father Crowley said he was taken ill.”

Father Winchester barely spared her a glance as he filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove top. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he muttered, his tone indicating a lack of regard for the man in question.

“Where is he?” she pushed, hoping that she wasn’t alone in the house with such an odd man.

He turned his head, grinning at her. “He left this morning. Staying with relatives in Florida. Warmer air.”

It sounded like he was mocking her, but she couldn’t see what the point would be, so she shrugged and let it go, looking around the kitchen for somewhere to sit. There was definitely space for a dining table and chairs in there but the space they could have occupied was empty.

“How are you feeling now?” the Father asked.

His question caught her off-guard. “Uh, okay, I guess,” she stammered, hugging herself for some small measure of comfort. “Probably allergies.” She was lying through her teeth; the gentle ache beginning in her belly told her exactly what was happening.

He hummed like he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you sure?” he pressed, turning to face her. “Lying is a sin, Y/N.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head hurriedly, fighting the urge to back up and show his intimidation of her. She dropped her hands to her sides, trying to appear casual. “Well, I mean, storms kick up all sorts of allergens,” she managed, shrugging.

Father Winchester sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, I gave you the chance there,” he scolded softly. “But I can see you’re going to be difficult about it.”

A lump formed in her throat. “About what?” she rasped, feigning innocence.

“I can smell you.”

The statement made her freeze, and she met his eyes like a frightened rabbit. He was facing her now, stalking her almost, and even though he was scaring the crap out of her, a tiny part of her was sending a thrill down her spine. His eyes shone as he stepped closer, and her knees trembled.

“Been able to smell you since you got out of your car,” he continued, coming closer still. “Sweet. Ripe. Just begging to be plucked.”

“Father Winchester, I -”

He scoffed, silencing her. “It’s Dean.”

She frowned at the odd correction, never knowing a priest to be so informal. But then, she’d never known one to be this inappropriate toward her. “This is wrong,” she whispered, finally backing away from him, only to find cupboards at her back two steps later. He was so close now, close enough to grab her, close enough that he was blocking any escape.

A smirk curled his lips, making him even more devastatingly handsome. “Then why can I smell how wet you are, sweetheart?”

Y/N whimpered, pressing herself into the cupboard door. “You shouldn’t be acting like this,” she denied. “You’re a priest, a man of the cloth -”

He was suddenly up against her, and she sucked in a breath, words fading as his scent overwhelmed her. “I’m an Alpha,” he murmured, reaching up to cup her face with one huge hand. “You’re an Omega. I know you feel it, I know you want it.”

She shook her head, her only struggle against his hold. He chuckled, leaning in like he was going to kiss her and she knew she should have resisted but she didn’t. His face got closer and right as he was about to brush his lips over hers, he went left, pressing his cheek to hers instead. The hand at her jaw tugged at her jacket, pulling it down until her bare shoulder and throat were exposed.

“I wouldn’t force myself on you, Y/N,” he crooned, mouth right against the shell of her ear. “It’s so much more satisfying to watch you try to fight it.” He chuckled, running the tips of his fingers up over her bare arm. “And you’re going to beg for my knot before long.” His fingers slid over her shoulder and up to her throat, stroking over the spot where an Alpha would lay his claim.

A shudder ran up her spine, and she could feel wetness in her panties. No doubt he could smell it, how aroused she was just from a few moments in his presence. “I don’t -” Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t speak. Working some saliva up, she managed a tiny whine, and Dean pulled back to look her in the eye.

“Try again,” he ordered softly.

“I don’t think th-this is appropriate,” she stammered, too aware of the hand still lingering on her throat.

“Why not?” he teased, grinning at her. “Your body wants it. Every second, your scent’s gettin’ stronger, princess.”

This is wrong, this is wrong, she chanted in her mind but already she was imagining it, conjuring fantasies based on the hard lines of his body that held her against the cupboard. “Please,” she keened desperately.

“Please, what?”

The kettle began to shrill loudly, and the tension in the room snapped. Dean stepped away, leaving her to crumple in on herself, and she panted against the cupboard, watching him as he continued to make the tea.

She wondered for a second if she’d imagined it but her jacket was still hanging halfway down her shoulder, and she could still feel his touch on her skin. Her panties were soaked through, and when she straightened, she felt the ache in her belly turning raw.

The front door opened, and she heard her mother’s voice. Relief swept through her, but Dean didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the arrival of company.

“Oh, of course, Father, we understand,” Judith was practically swooning over him, “after all, safety comes first.”

“Absolutely, my child,” Father Crowley replied and the front door shut loudly. “Now let’s see where your daughter has gotten to.” His voice got louder as they approached the kitchen, and when he entered, he smiled at you. “Here she is.” He glanced at the other priest. “Safe and sound.”

Judith didn’t notice the odd tone he spoke with, but Y/N did. She stood still as her mother came closer and began to fuss, pressing one hand to her daughter’s forehead. “Oh dear,” she mumbled, flustering a little as she realized what was ailing the younger woman. “I suppose we should get you home.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Father Crowley interjected, glaring at Father Winchester, who smirked back.

“Thank you for looking after her, Father,” Judith cooed, smiling at both men.

“Take good care of her, won’t you?” Dean requested, all charm as he stared right at Y/N. She swallowed down a whimper, ducking her head so her mother didn’t see her reaction to him. “She’s a very special girl.”

Her mother clutched her chest, giving him an adoring look. “I will, Father Winchester,” she promised, taking Y/N’s hand but her daughter was already moving, desperate to get away from the scent of him. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Judith admonished, making her freeze in her tracks.

She turned back, stomach churning, palms getting sweaty. “Thank you, Father,” she mumbled, curtseying like she was a child at Sunday School.

“I’ll keep you in my prayers,” he replied, a filthy smirk on his lips.

Judith didn’t linger this time, following as her daughter dashed for the door and out into the fresh air. The door closed behind them, and Crowley turned to Dean, arching one eyebrow in his direction.

“Feeling a little more enthusiastic about this?” he taunted. “Though you’re behind. I’ve already got three in the bag, what’s so special about this one?”

Dean’s smirk grew. “Didn’t you smell her?”

Crowley hummed. “Not something I’d be attuned to,” he shrugged. “This meatsuit’s a Beta.”

“You’re missing out,” Dean chuckled. “All she needs is a little push and she’ll be begging.”

“Seems like a waste of time.”

The younger man growled. “I thought we were here to have fun.”

“We are,” Crowley confirmed hesitantly. “I just thought it was a little more damning of little old ladies and less chasing tail.”

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. “Whatever floats your boat. We should get rid of Taggart. He’s gonna start stinking up the joint.”

She’d been mistaken in thinking getting away from Father Winchester would slow her predicament. If anything, by the time she arrived home, the heat was getting stronger. Her mother parked the car and ushered her out, ordering her to her room to rest while promising noodle soup.

Usually, she’d sleep through most of a heat, ensconced in her personal space, and it would be over within three or four days. Even at her age and unmated, she managed them easily, but this one was early, way off her regular cycle. It felt stronger too, crippling her in hours, and by the time her mom brought her soup, she was at the point of begging for unconsciousness. Judith was concerned - Y/N dismissed it, assuring her mother she only needed rest and sending her away.

Every time she closed her eyes, Dean’s face, his scent, tormented her.

Monday didn’t bring any improvement. She strayed from her nest only to use the bathroom, snacking on comfort foods and watching shows when she wasn’t sleeping. Her mom checked in before she went out, and while she was gone, Y/N used the private time to take the edge off, cursing herself when she imagined Dean being the one to satisfy her.

She fell short of satisfying herself, only succeeding making the longing worse.

On Tuesday, her mom was home, and expressed a desire to call the doctor, but Y/N waved her off again. Her fever was beginning to break, she just had to ride it out.

In the afternoon, someone knocked at the door, the noise disturbing her sleep. She laid in her bed, listening as her mother greeted whoever it was, and for a moment, the low voice that answered didn’t register. When she realized who it was, she bolted upright, staring at the door in horror as she heard them coming up the stairs.

Her mother knocked at her door seconds later, and Y/N snatched the covers, pulling them up to her chin. The door opened without her consent - nothing unusual for Judith - and she stepped in alone, even though Y/N could smell Dean just outside in the hall.

“Y/N,” she murmured, “Father Winchester has come to check in on you.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N grunted back. “I’d rather not -”

“Nonsense,” she insisted. “Maybe prayer will help take your mind off of it.”

The utter disregard the older woman suddenly had was alarming, but Y/N didn’t have a chance to question it as Father Winchester entered, smirking at her. Judith smiled, glancing over at her daughter as she wilted in the bed.

“I’ve got to run into town. Will you two be okay?” Judith asked, ignoring the horror on Y/N’s face.

“I’m sure I can assist Y/N with whatever she needs,” Dean drawled, still grinning, eyes locked on her. It didn’t appear that Judith caught his double meaning at all, as she quickly retreated, leaving her Omega daughter to the Alpha’s mercy. He waited until he heard her reach the bottom of the stairs, then he pushed the door almost closed, licking his lips. “Mmm,” he exhaled, “I can taste you in the air, pretty thing.”

“I could shout,” she threatened quietly. “Mom will -”

“Go ahead,” he dared. “But I already know, you won’t. Because you’ve been thinking about me for three days.”

Her cheeks flushed with fresh heat but she held his gaze in defiance. He tucked his tongue behind his teeth, his expression mocking her, and she scowled, hating the fact that he was having an effect on her.

Downstairs, the front door shut, leaving them alone.

Dean moved closer, lowering himself onto the bed by her thighs. He didn’t touch her, but his proximity was enough to make her tense, the desire in her belly growing stronger with every whiff of his scent. “Don’t worry,” he soothed, lifting his chin. “I won’t touch you unless you ask nicely.”

She ground her teeth together. That same tiny part of her that had sprung up back at the rectory, the Judas in her soul that made her quiver at just his voice; it was screaming now, pleading with her to give in. Keeping her mouth shut, she focused on remaining still, unreactive to his presence.

“Ooo, hard to get, huh?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Your scent betrays what you’re craving, baby. I bet you’ve cum half a dozen times on those useless plastic knots.” He looked around the room, obviously looking for evidence. “Where do you hide them?”

Y/N kept her eyes on him, unwilling to give away her secret.

“Gotta be somewhere mommy won’t find,” he continued, getting to his feet again. “She’s so nice. I doubt she knows what a little cockslut her daughter truly is.”

Her stomach clenched, and she looked down at her knees underneath the quilt. Dean laughed again, wandering over to her dresser. He smoothed one long hand along the top of it, glancing back at her in amusement.

“No, not in here, too obvious,” he mused aloud, scanning the room. Spying her closet, he strode over to it, opening the doors. He inspected it without touching anything, looking back at her again to check her reaction. She continued to keep her eyes down, chewing her lip to silence herself. “Not even gonna give me a hint?”

The rise he wanted wasn’t forthcoming though he didn’t seem bothered by her refusal to play his game. He stalked closer, trying to get her to look at him. She kept her head down, resisting, but when his knee hit the bed, she couldn’t stop her eyes darting towards where her shoebox lay.

Dropping to one knee, he reached under the bed, finding the only thing that was under there. He pulled the box out, glancing up to see her shameful expression, and he knew he had his prize.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, tugging the lid off.

Y/N only owned two toys, a vibrating wand and a dildo. Dean went for the dildo first, holding it up in scrutiny as she tried to will her bed to swallow her whole.

“Oh, baby. You’re in for a treat.” He clicked his tongue, smirking at her. “This is tiny.” It hit the floor with a thud that made her flinch. “But this one might be useful.” He dropped the shoebox, throwing the wand onto the bed; it landed between her knees. “Which one do you like best?”

She hesitated. He waited patiently, staring at her, and she shivered, letting the covers fall to her shoulders. “I-if I tell you… you won’t hurt me, right?”

A frown dampened his smile. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you, Omega?”

The use of the title made her shiver again. Her whole body ached, the arousal becoming unbearable and only enhanced by the scent of a potent Alpha so close. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

“I told you - I won’t touch you until you ask me to,” he repeated.

“Th-the wand,” she rushed out, and his smile returned. “The kn - the other one feels too fake.”

He chuckled, tilting his head a little. “Tell me the truth, princess,” he moved closer, sitting on the bed again, this time on the opposite side, “have you ever taken a real Alpha knot in that sweet little cunt of yours?”

She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped. “Yes,” she whispered. “Once.”

“Lemme guess,” he mused, tapping his chin with one finger. “Highschool sweetheart. Thought he was the one, only for him to pop your cherry and leave you high and dry, right?” Her gaze dropped, and he took it for confirmation, laughing lightly. “Oh, darlin’, I’m gonna blow your mind when I get inside you.”

His words were so crude, so unbecoming of a priest. No one had ever spoken to her like that and she was ashamed to find his filthy expressions arousing. “Y-you said you wouldn’t force me.”

“I won’t,” he assured her. “I told you, you’ll beg me for it.”

Faking bravado, she lifted her chin, staring at him. “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got my scent now,” he breathed, “Omega.” She shuddered, unable to suppress it, and fresh warmth invaded the space between her thighs. “See? Just my voice makes your pussy clench, doesn’t it? How many times have you imagined me fucking you to get off?” She whimpered, breaking eye contact. “Honesty, Y/N.”

“A lot,” she rasped truthfully, because she hadn’t counted.

He grinned triumphantly. “You wanna cum right now, don’t you?” She nodded, clenching her hands in the covers. “Then pick up your little toy and make yourself cum.”

The idea of refusing floated in her mind but she was so aroused she could feel it soaking the sheets underneath her ass. Dean watched her, green eyes hungry as they fixed on her, and before she could contemplate what she was doing, she pulled one hand out from the quilt and grabbed the wand.

He sat back a little, hands in his lap. Swallowing hard, Y/N hid the wand under the covers, turning it on so he could hear it, sliding it between her thighs. It didn’t even occur to her to fake it, and when the vibrating head touched her clit through her thin panties, she whined loudly.

“That’s it,” he purred, rubbing his crotch through his black slacks. “Aren’t you warm under all that?”

Desire controlled her, overriding her common sense. She pushed the covers down, shifting so she was a little flatter before pressing the wand to her sex again. Dean was stroking himself through his pants now, watching her as she writhed against the stimulation.

“I think you’d cum quicker if you took your panties off,” he suggested.

She nodded, too lust-drunk to fight it anymore, and in a few seconds, her panties were off and across the room. Dean watched as she spread her legs, bringing the wand’s head to right where she needed it. The intense need in her core only got her to the edge quicker, and she shuddered through an orgasm under the priest’s stare, feeling shameful as the pleasure subsided.

“Did that feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered, legs still twitching as she pulled the wand away and turned it off. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and she squirmed, desperate to feel more friction. Dean’s gaze dropped to her slick pussy, and he bit his lip, obviously restraining himself. The realization dawned on her that she didn’t want him to show control… she wanted him to touch her. “Please,” she forced out, chest heaving and breath coming in short pants. “Touch me.”

His lips curled into a sly smile and he chuckled. “Told you so,” he murmured, reaching out to slide his hand over her knee and up her bare thigh. “But you need to be specific. Where should I touch you, Y/N?”

“M-my,” she hesitated, feeling the warmth of his hand so close to where she wanted it, “my pussy.”

He grinned. “You learn quick,” he muttered, finally cupping her sex with his hand. She groaned, unwittingly canting her hips into his palm. “Oh, you’re so wet and warm, little Omega.” A finger dipped inside her, making her mewl pitifully, but he only laughed, teasing her with a little more of it. “Tell me what you want now.”

“I want -” She stopped, licking her lips as her breathing got heavier. “I want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” He thrust his finger into her up to the knuckle, and she cried out, clutching the sheets underneath her. “So tight too,” he groaned. “You’re going to burn me alive.”

She twisted, nodding desperately. “P-please, more.”

He fucked the single digit into her, letting her body adjust before he penetrated her with the second. Her voice became hoarse, and her cunt throbbed around him, slicking every stroke as he opened her up. His wrist twisted, allowing him to press his thumb to her clit, and her whole body trembled.

“Just opening up for me,” he praised, looking down at her hungrily as he kept his fingers moving at a steady pace. “I bet you’ll gush all over my hand, won’t you, dirty little whore Omega? Look at you, all ready to beg for what you really want.” She moaned and nodded, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. “Wonder how hard you’ll cum with my knot stretching that perfect little cunt out? You wanna feel my seed in your belly?”

It was too much. With a hoarse shout, she came, clenching hard around his fingers as he held them deep, his thumb continuing to work at her clit until she was dripping down his wrist. She was crying with pleasure, unable to vocalize anything as she shuddered from head to toe, and when Dean pulled his hand away, her legs collapsed, leaving her in a messy heap, eyes closed and chest heaving.

She could hear him lick his fingers clean.

“What do you want now, Y/N?” he taunted, leaning over her. She whimpered, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“Want your knot, Alpha,” she keened, reaching for him.

He tisked, pulling away before she could touch him. “That’s not good enough,” he chided, shaking his head and smirking at her. “If you want it that bad, you’ll come and get it.”

“Wait,” she mumbled, pushing up onto weak arms as he walked around the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Not far,” he replied mockingly, pausing at the door. “Like I said, if you want it that bad…” He trailed off and shrugged, disappearing out of the door. Y/N scrambled to follow, reaching the doorway with only her t-shirt on, but as she stepped out into the hall, it was empty. Father Winchester was gone.

She stared, pouting at nothing. Had she imagined it in some sort of heat fever? No, she could smell him, feeling his lingering touch in her most intimate places - how could he leave her like that? He’d watched her get herself off, made her cum with the briefest of touches, and then he just… vanished?

With her climax, her heat was given a brief reprieve, and her judgment became a little less clouded. She knew what Father Winchester - Dean - was doing. It was immoral and wrong and why was she still craving him? She should have been disgusted with herself, she should have thrown him out, she should have -

But she hadn’t. She’d let him make her cum and she’d enjoyed every second of it.

Shame washed over her. She retreated back to her room, covering her face with her hands as she made a frustrated noise. All she could think about was him, all she wanted was him. It felt like he’d cursed her, when all he’d really done was talk dirty, and she’d broken like a twig.

Maybe she should let his superior know what he was doing. She was fairly certain priests weren’t supposed to seduce their parishioners, especially not with the ferocity Dean displayed. Except… except then he might be made to stop, and that tiny part of her from before was getting bigger and louder by the minute.

She dressed quickly, repeating the same cycle of thoughts in her head. They weren’t really doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the celibate kind of priest, and she was a single unmated Omega. Their only sin was sex before marriage, which she’d never exactly been big on, judging by the three guys she’d actually slept with in college.

By the time she was dressed, she almost had herself convinced. At the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed her coat and keys, pleased her mother hadn’t taken the car. When she opened the front door, she knew what she was going to do, and she was at peace with it.

The church was quiet when she pulled up, the windows sparkling in the afternoon sun. Y/N sat in her car, nibbling at her finger as she watched the door, concerned someone would see her. There didn’t seem to be any sign of life, so she climbed out, taking careful steps up to the door to try the handle. She wasn’t surprised when it opened, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Inside was empty. At the far end by the altar, candles burned, and the smell of frankincense hung in the air. Moving forward, she listened out for anyone lurking, slowly heading for the front pews.

The door clicked loudly behind her. She turned, seeing Dean with his hand on the lock, and he turned his head, lips curled in another filthy smirk. His eyes were dark, almost black, she thought, but when she blinked they were normal. Dismissing it as a trick of the light, she turned to face him, unconsciously holding a breath.

“Well, well,” he chuckled, swiping a thumb across his full lower lip. “You didn’t waste any time.” He strolled towards her, bumping his hand off of each pew as he went. “It’s barely been an hour.”

She bit her lip, watching him draw closer. There was weakness in her knees, and her heart pounded in her chest so hard, she thought it might burst. Dean chuckled, slowing to a stop just within reach.

“Father Winchester,” she whispered, trying not to sink to her knees. He bared his teeth and she swallowed. “Dean.”

“Try again.”

A shuddering breath left her lips. “Alpha.”

He hummed, reaching out to grasp her chin in his fingers. “Yes?”

She knew what he wanted, what she had to say in order to get what she wanted, what her body was craving like an addict. Still, she struggled to get the words out, unused to expressing her sexual needs aloud. “I need... I need your knot,” she whimpered.

He tisked, releasing her. “Not good enough.”

Her legs gave out, and she dropped with a frustrated cry. “Please,” she wailed, “please, Alpha, I need it. Need you to knot me.” Dean groaned, palming his crotch, looking down at her hungrily. Y/N lifted her head, panting as she pleaded with him. “Need you to fuck me.”

His jaw hung half open as he tore at the buckle of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock free. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, watching as his erection thickened and filled out, the bulge of his knot obvious at the base. “You’re learning,” he mumbled, stroking himself as he stepped closer. “Open up.”

She obeyed, kneeling a little straighter as he offered himself to her, tapping the heavy crown against her bottom lip.

“Wider.”

Her jaw ached already but she did as she was told, instinctively brushing her tongue across the weeping head. His taste was tangy on her tongue, and she swallowed it down, lifting one hand to touch him. He didn’t resist, watching with his chin tucked into his chest as she took the initiative and started to explore his shaft with her tongue.

“Keep going,” he murmured, stroking her face before cupping the side of her head. “That’s it. Good little cocksucker.”

She moaned around him, feeling her own body respond to what she was doing. Her pussy throbbed and her skin prickled with heat, and her movements became more enthusiastic, much to the Alpha’s delight.

“Take it deeper,” he instructed, and she complied, eager to please him. His cockhead nudged the back of her throat and she gagged, pulling away at the fear of throwing up. Dean stopped her going far, quickly tugging her back. “Keep trying,” he ordered. “You’ll get used to it.”

Cautiously, she opened her mouth again, feeling the weight of him on her tongue. He thrust forward a little, and she swallowed, concentrating hard to control her gag reflex. Dean moaned as she kept doing it, rocking his hips to keep up the pressure.

“Fuck, you got a sweet mouth,” he groaned. “But I bet your pussy feels even better.”

He pulled away without warning, and Y/N spluttered as she landed on her hands, gasping down air. Dean’s hand slipped around her upper arm, pulling her to her feet; she stumbled, grabbing onto him for stability. Without waiting, he tugged her toward the altar, roughly pushing her against it.

“A dress would have been better,” he commented, yanking her pants down to her ankles as she squeaked in alarm and grabbed the cloth-covered altar table. Two fingers quickly pressed against her sex, sinking into her without warning. She cried out, clutching the table, bending over without thinking. “Still so wet,” he muttered, fucking the two thick digits into her.

“Please,” she wailed, unable to take any more teasing.

“Impatient now,” he chuckled, pulling his fingers free. “Don’t worry, baby,” she heard his pants drop as the heavy belt buckle hit the floor, “gonna make you feel all better.”

He pressed in behind her, letting her feel the weight of his cock as he slid between her thighs. Holding it against her pussy, he reached around for her throat, pulling her up straight.

“Look up,” he commanded quietly. She obeyed, lifting her eyes to the wooden crucifix above them, the carved image of Christ staring back. “I want you to look at Him while you’re taking my knot.”

He pushed into her, and she cried out, digging her fingernails into her table underneath her, struggling to keep her gaze where he wanted it. His thick shaft settled deep in her warmth, creating a pressure in her belly that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his grip on her throat loosening for a second. “Just as good as I imagined.”

Y/N whimpered, fighting to keep her head up as Dean started to fuck her with slow, purposeful strokes. Her hips dug into the altar with every thrust, and his hand kept a steady grip on her throat, forcing her to look into the eyes of the crucified messiah as he defiled her.

It felt too good to care.

Her first climax came quickly, and her cries bounced off of the stained glass windows, echoing around the old building. Dean didn’t slow or stop, grunting in time with the slap of his skin on hers. His other hand grabbed her breast through her shirt, squeezing without a care for how rough he was being but her only noises were of pleasure. She was getting off on the way he used her, the bruises he was bound to leave on her skin.

“You really are a sinner,” he groaned, feeling her pussy clench around him again. His hand dropped to her belly, the fingers at her throat forcing her up a little straighter. “Bet you’re ripe right now,” he murmured, close to her ear. “That empty little womb just begging to be filled.”

The thought of what he was suggesting shouldn’t have made her wetter, shouldn’t have had any effect on her at all, but she would be lying if it didn’t. Her whole body shuddered at the depravity of even thinking about carrying his spawn, and she let her eyes roll back and fall shut. Dean chuckled, slowing just a little to watch her slick cunt swallow him over and over.

“I’m gonna knot you,” he panted, palming her ass, releasing her throat as he kicked her feet apart a little wider. Her belly and breasts came flush with the altar, and he hummed when his cock stabbed a little deeper. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you’re so ready to be filled up.” Y/N whined, pushing up onto tiptoes to stop from slipping. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

His hips snapped into her with more force, punching a cry from her lips. He started to fuck her hard, hard enough that she knew she’d have physical marks from the wood colliding with her hip, if not from his fingers gripping her flesh tightly. She couldn’t hope to stop herself from screaming, cumming hard as she felt his knot beginning to swell.

“That’s it, Omega,” Dean growled, slapping her ass as she clenched around him. “Fucking cum on my knot.”

With one last thrust, his knot popped, thickening inside her as warm spurts of cum filled her belly. His teeth found her throat, and in the throes of pleasure, she didn’t resist, crying out as he broke the skin and left a permanent reminder of his touch. She slumped forward when he released her, gasping through the last of her orgasm, going limp as he finished. He groaned with a low chuckle, squeezing her ass again, enjoying the last few squeezes of her warm walls around his cock.

“Wanna hear a secret?” he murmured, pulling her up and holding her there, practically impaling her on his knot. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and she shuddered, almost wheezing in his grip. “I’m no priest.”

Was he expecting her to be surprised? No priest acted the way he did.

“Then what are you?” she asked, expecting him to say anything but what came out of his mouth.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, little Omega.”

How she had made it out of the church and home without anyone seeing her was a stroke of luck, and she managed to avoid her mother for the rest of the day. Her heat subsided quickly after her encounter with Dean, but she still wasn’t entirely satisfied. After their encounter, he’d disappeared without answering her questions, and every time she’d returned to the church later on in the week, there was no one there. The mark on her throat ached, and though it hadn’t been deep, she still kept it covered to avoid questions from anyone who might see it.

Shame kept her from attending church on the Sunday, having decided by that point that Dean had used her. She feigned a migraine, letting her mother take her car, and then she ate junk food in her room while watching reruns of old sitcoms on television. When her mom returned a few hours later, it was with surprising news.

“Father Taggart passed away,” Judith said after Y/N came down to see what had happened. “No one is sure what happened, only that the bishop is saying they didn’t send any replacement for Father Grayson, and no one knows what happened to Father Crowley or Father Winchester.”

“That’s strange,” Y/N mumbled, recalling Dean’s words while he’d been buried inside her. The majority of her soul was in pain at the abandonment of an Alpha - again - and that this time, he’d left something of himself inside her.

“Oh, and did I mention?” her mother continued. “Mrs. Whiting was found dead two days ago. Another mystery. Her husband is still missing.”

Judith carried on, musing over all the gossip she’d heard today, and Y/N tuned it out, trying not to pay any attention to the emotions crushing her chest. She should have been more careful, should have been wary of the handsome Alpha - she definitely shouldn’t have offered herself up to him like a brazen hussy.

She had to keep her involvement with him quiet. The last thing she wanted was attention from the police. It was easier to keep her head down and carry on, deal with her own stupidity and not let herself be fooled again.

When a few days passed, she let it sink in. A night of crying to the most tear-jerking movies she could think of, and she felt a little better. She kept going, and days turned into weeks, and Dean was a brief thought that flitted through her mind occasionally. His mark faded to an easily-disguisable scar, and she continued on with how her life had been before, ignoring the longing for excitement that he had brought her. The only change was church, despite her mother’s protests.

She never expected to see him again but she wasn’t sure she could walk back into the place where she’d let him own every part of her.

It was almost a relief when her period came. His comments about her fertility had lingered in her mind, burrowing deep until she was in a panic. But her cycle continued as it had before, and she thought she could finally forget him entirely.

She didn’t notice the black car parked along the street, didn’t recognize it at all, though she’d seen it before. She didn’t even pay attention when she saw it outside her office, or at the grocery store. It was only when she walked past it for the sixth time outside the pharmacy, and the door opened, that she finally saw who it was.

Dean stared at her over the top of the Impala, and Y/N froze on the sidewalk, feeling like time had slowed down. He smiled awkwardly, unlike the predatory smirk from before, and she frowned, tilting her head at him.

“You’re back,” she blurted out.

“Kind of,” he replied haltingly.

It had been about six weeks. She was due her heat again. “What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk.” He sounded sincere at least. “To explain.” There was something in his voice, something that tugged her forward. “You’re my Omega, Y/N.”

She took a breath, knowing without even thinking about it that she’d listen. “What if I don’t want to talk?” she challenged. “What if I don’t want an Alpha?”

Dean smiled again, but once more she noticed the difference in him. “Is that true?”

“No,” she confessed quietly.

He gestured to the passenger door. “You wanna get in?”

It felt like opening that door would lead her somewhere, and not just into this man’s arms. Whatever he had to say, she felt like she needed to hear it, that this was not only the door to his car, but the door to her future. She looked up, smiling at the bright sunny sky, then dropped her gaze back to him.

“Yeah.”

Feedback is appreciated!! Thanks for reading 😘

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #demon!dean winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #supernatural #blasphemy #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #alpha!Dean Winchester #omega!reader

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wordsbymae · 2 years

Text

MINORS DNI

Title: The Viking

Pairing: Male OC x reader

TW: Violence, murder, generally bad things, implied non/con, no explicit smut but heavy Non/con groping!!, discussion of sexual slavery, mention of cannibalism, Christian elements but it is because I am and I am less afraid of stuffing up Christian stuff than other religions. If you are uncomfortable with any of that move on This man is not nice. Pet names: little mutt, little one and little lamb. Let me know if I missed anything let me know

ALPHABET HERE

Also, I tried to do Gn but as I am a woman, I automatically write with a female reader in mind. But!!!!! I have tried my very best to not mention gender. If something doesn't work please tell me. Reader discretion is advised! Also, I hope I don't need to say this but I will just in case, I do not condone these sorts of actions!!! Or any actions in any of my work. This is pure fiction. Also, all my OCs and the reader are over the age of 18+. and I'm not gonna add google translate because that takes forever and you guys won't even be able to read it so he conveniently speaks the same language as the reader.

Notes: Aaaaa! I have 21 followers! You guys are absolutely amazing! I never thought anyone would want to read my stuff let alone like and reblog. This doesn't take place in any place in particular, if anything I heavily rely on the climate of my home. I was though heavily influenced by Vikings and their nordic culture of that time, however, I had originally planned to make the oc a barbarian of sorts and not a Viking. But my inspiration dive into Pinterest left me with Vikings so here we are. I might write a nomadic barbarian fic later on cause I do see them as quite different in my mind but it depends where this goes, I usually write the notes and triggers before I start writing as a way of planning my thoughts so it might change halfway through.

Also the climatic event in the beginning, in my mind, is the cause of a volcanic eruption somewhere on earth, there was a year of just constant winter due to a massive eruption a few centuries ago and I wanted to include that and showcase how superstitious the people of this time were, seeing the winter as a foreshadowing of terror. And hell they were right.

Lots of love Mae xx

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It was far too early in the season for the cold winds to be here. Your father pretended to not be frightened but you could see it in his eyes. There was a fear lingering. You could hear your parents whispering in worry when they thought you were asleep. You could hear your mother sob as they discussed what it could mean. Your homeland was one of sun and thunder, but never frost, never snow. Yet, a chill had descended onto your lands. A frost had spread across the summer grass. Your bare feet crunched upon what should have been dried pasture, instead, they were chilled by a wicked frost. The sun that you would curse for its harsh warmth was now hidden behind constant grey clouds and you begged for it to return. The floods and storms you ragged against never came. No seasonal thunderstorms after the humidity of the day. There was just darkness. Travellers and merchants from far-off lands, journeying to the capital came through your village, speaking of the darkness that had spread. It seemed like no kingdom or empire was safe. The frost and darkness had come for all.

The first omen of their arrival was the frost itself. It seeped into everything and made the ground as solid as rock, the summer pastures shrivelled up and left nothing but dirt behind.

The second omen was the famine. The harvest failed and the livestock starved. Your father was forced to sell the heifers and cows and slaughter all calves and steers to provide for your family. Still, it wasn't enough. You heard gruesome tales of far-off villages butchering each other for scraps of meat from their bones. Your village was lucky, the sea still provided as much as it could.

The third omen was the dragons. Firey images in the night sky, leaving streaks of light hanging in the air. As soon as they appeared men cried out and women fell to their knees. It was a sign of a terror to come.

The final omen was a raven.

The skies had begun to clear and the winter rains had soothed the harsh scars left behind. Crops had been sown and the frost retreated in the face of the reappeared sun. You had all thought that the struggles of the last few months were over. Your father had been able to buy a cow with calf last week with money you made weaving baskets. She was a skinny thing even with the calf in her belly, but with the winter rain healing the land, you could see her regaining strength.

You had thought it was a crow when you first saw it. It did seem to be a bit bigger than the crows that waited patiently for your fish scraps by the pier. But you had never seen a raven before, so why think anything of it. It had flown in from the sea, flew over the village before fixing its gaze on your mother's garden. Your mother prized her garden, especially her roses, and had cried bitter tears when the frost killed the flowers, leaving thorny masses behind, but they had begun to regrow, leaving your families house surrounded by a beautiful arrangement of daisies and violas, butterfly pea flowers and lilacs. You had your favourites of course. In fact, you were picking them right now, happy to make a bouquet for your ancestors' burial place. As you were sitting and deciding which flowers to choose, the raven landed beside you, you watch in amazement as it plucked a flower from your hand and rose into the air and back towards the sea. Standing up with a giggle you chased after it in play until you reached your property's fence. You watched until it was nothing but a black dot in a sky of blue. If you had known what it had foreshadowed you would have wrung its neck.

They themselves came in the night.

They landed on the beaches and in silence drifted into town. Axes drawn and blood-hungry. The first death was the blacksmith. He was stumbling from the inn, stomach filled with ale. He saw them first, and let out a cry of warning, but it did not save him from a dagger sliding across his throat. The killer let out a howl. His comrades followed. The screams began.

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You had lost sight of your mother in the smoke of the burning village. Fire ragged towards the heavens. The smell of charcoal and blood ravaged your senses. The yelling and screaming were just a constant now. Like how a bird song drifts into the background. You stood immobile calling for your mother, begging her to reveal herself. Out of habit, you called for your father, but you were harshly reminded that dead men can't answer. You watched as the savages ripped men to the ground and let blood flow. They hadn't noticed you yet it seemed. A lone wraith shaking in the centre of town. In the centre of all the murder and mayhem. For a moment you thought you were dead. That the arrow your father had taken for you had indeed struck you and now you were wandering the mortal realm alone and afraid until St Peter called for you.

Your eyes reached towards the heavens and you began to beg for the angels to pluck you from this horror. Your arms wrapped around yourself as tears flowed down your soot-covered cheeks. You were broken from your prayers when you heard your name being called, your mother perhaps? Your eyes rushed to find her. No, you can't see her. But it was enough to have you moving towards the darkness and away from the light of the fire. With your arms still holding you tight, you began to stumble towards the outskirts of town. Once in the fields outside town, you could hide. Wait till they grew bored of your village and left in their ships to torment another village. You were reminded of a time when you were fearful of the dark. But now it was your salvation. Tripping over your feet you struggled to remain standing, leaning on the walls of yet-to-be-destroyed houses and holding onto the rungs of fences. You kept rushing forward, eyes onto the safety of darkness. You were close, only a few more steps.

A beast emerged from the darkness. His face burned with the light of the fire, and his axe shined with delight. His furs were matted with blood and encompassed his shoulder. His arms were bare save for strips of leather circling them. There was blood on his arms and hands as well, dripping onto the handle of his axe and onto the dirt below. You stood still, hoping perhaps you were dead. That he would just pass by and you could remain nothing more but a spirit. If death was without pain you would prefer it to the horrors the beast in front of you was capable of. His face was marked with blood, lines travelling over his forehead and down through his eyes. His eyes flickered with hunger and his mouth was turned up into a grin. He stood feet wide as if he was ready to battle, but his hand was loose on the axe, allowing it to dangle from his palm. He saw no threat in you.

A strange mix of sounds came from his mouth, while his voice was rough and stern, his words were lyrical and filled with rounded sounds and quick sharp notes. It left you confused and almost enchanted, like a deer in the gaze of a hunter.

His voice stopped and his eyes drifted down and then up. He gave a deep laugh at the site of your cowering.

"Come little mutt, stand tall" he chuckled with amusement. You whimpered at the sight of him, a beast of a man denying your freedom. He began to march towards you his axe swinging in his hold. You try to take steps back but he is quicker. You yelp as he pushes you towards a wall, his thick forearm resting against your neck as he peers down at you. You could see the scars littering his face and could smell the stench of blood dominating his body. You could feel the warmth of the blood from his arm smearing all over your neck and chest. You hated to think whose blood it once was.

"Little mutt has no teeth huh? What about claws? hm?" he questioned, joy in your torment in his eyes.

"If I was to fuck you now would you fight me? Would you claw at me or bite at my fingers?" he laughed at your obvious fear. He brought his head down to your neck and sniffed loudly. You cringed as his nose met your skin.

"You smell sweet little mutt. I wonder if you taste just as good"

you struggled as his tongue run up your neck, tears tumbling down your cheeks.

"As sweet as honey!" he cheered. His forearm dug into your neck further as you struggled to escape. He began to shush you, giving out soothing sounds like you would a crying baby as his body stepped forward to meet yours.

" Please don't kill me" you choked, eyes red with fear.

"Never little one!" he bellowed, his face of mock hurt. "Why would I kill you? hm?" he comforted, releasing his arm if only by a fraction. "You will fetch me a high price at the slave markets, little lamb. Men will go mad trying to buy you for their beds" he grinned, showing off his sharp canine teeth. You struggled once more, this time clawing at his arm and chest.

"So the little mutt has claws! Maybe I will keep you for myself. Use you to warm my cock. Would you like that little one?" he teased, he moved his face closer, his tongue darting out to catch the tears on your cheek.

" Get off me" you grunted, desperately trying to remove his arm. he teased you by feigning pity.

"Poor little lamb, you must be so scared. Trapped by a beast like me" he cooed, pushing his arm further into your skin. You watched as his eyes drifted to your chest below his arm. He dropped the axe in his other hand to the ground, it falling flat with a light thud. He looked you in the eyes once more. You could see mischief in them.

"I am torn between keeping you for my bed slave and making a small fortune on another man's desires. Let me see your wares and then I shall decide" he sang, his grin reaching higher and higher with each word. You could only watch in horror as his hands reached for the front of your night smock and ripped it. You tried to grab his wrists but he was too strong. In a mere moment, your smock lay tattered on the ground and you stood bare in the night air. His eyes drank you in, and his hands drifted over your body. He gripped tightly in some places and softly in others. Blood from his hands was left smeared all over you, like rivers on a map. His eyes found yours once more and glee was evident on his face.

"I have decided little mutt. You shall warm my bed and most importantly me" he proclaimed, laughing at the end. "I am to be your master and you the little mutt at my heels. But first, let me dull those claws, hm?"

You stood arms covering yourself confused at his words. You had no claws to dull.

You gave a shriek as he began to drag you into the darkness. His hand was tight against your wrists. You tried to use your body weight to stop him, but it only ended with you falling to the ground and him dragging you through the dirt. You screamed and kicked, shouted and cried. He just laughed.

The dirt turned to soft grass as released you from his grip. You shot up to your bare feet, only to be thrown to the ground and a foot thrown on your stomach.

"I admire your fight little mutt, but as your master, I cannot in good conscious allow you to disrespect me. it would not be natural." he cooed at you, his hair falling into his eyes. You choked out a sob at the thought of what he planned to do. You were both far enough from the town your screams would not be heard and you were both hidden by lush pasture. You began to pray, your words drowning in sobs.

"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kin-"

"Enough!" shouted, falling onto his knees above you, a dagger glinting in his hand.

"Keep your God, fine, but do not expect kindness from me when you beg for his mercy" he sneered. You watched in terror as the dagger raced towards your head, only for it to land safely in the soil next to you.

"Now little lamb moan sweetly for me, will you?" he smiled, his grin one of filth. You lay there looking up at him in fear. "I said moan" he barked, his hand reaching for your throat. You gave him what he wanted, although it was tarnished by your terror.

"Like the music of the gods" he praised. He removed his hand from your throat and brought both to your knees, lifting them up and slotting himself in between them.

"Look at you little mutt, shaking and cowering in fear and yet I haven't even fucked you yet. You Christians are strange folk. If you knew of pleasure you would be moaning on my cock by now. You yourself would have begged for it. Begged for me to fuck your tight little hole on the ashes of your ho-" you slapped him with a furry. A rage releases from you, with you reaching for the dagger beside your head. His hand reached for yours first and punished it with his strength. He gave off a terrifying laugh as you were forced to drop the knife and he quickly threw it behind him.

"Maybe you aren't a little mutt but a little wolf instead. That fire in you will warm my cock and balls for years to come. But first, let me break you in"

You really did wish that arrow had found its mark in you.

#vikings #oc #gn!reader #viking oc #i noticed i write in past tense. I guess thats just my writing #i was going to tag yandere but it isnt #its just dark #viking x reader #oc viking x reader #dark fic #dark drabble #tw noncon

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sailoryooons · 2 years

Text

Carved | Preface | jjk (m)

→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series

→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst

→ Warnings: This teaser features depictions of dismemberment, gore, mentions of a past war, references to Christian theology, graphic mentions of pain and torture.

→ Series Warnings: This series will feature multiple religious themes under the guise that there are multiple heavens, hells, and all religions are real. This is also a dark series - reader is enslaved and there will be graphic depictions of mistreatment. While some characters have good intentions in this series, everyone is ultimately selfish and very morally grey. Please do not read if you cannot take morally ambiguous characters.

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Series Masterlist: here

→ faq

A/N: This is the series that readers voted on to be featured in June. I have most of this planned out, though I do not have most of it written. This will be a longer work because I really have a lot I want to pour into this story. Please be patient with me. As soon as I have a post date for chapter one, I will share. I expect to have chapter one written in about a week. All content for this series will appear under the cut, as there are graphic depictions of violence.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

/ NEXT CHAPTER /

Pain is inevitable. To accept pain is to remain unaffected.

Pain is constant. To accept this is to be unafraid.

Pain is power. To accept this is to be undefeatable.

These tenants of truth run through your mind. They are the pillars of your training. The foundations of your life. Every ounce of your existence is pain. Every moment of life is painted red. These tenants of truth keep you grounded. Keep you sane.

Blood drips down your back. The wound is fresh, reopened every few hours by men and women with rough hands, rusted knives and jackal laughter. You feel the stickiness on your lower back. On the curves of your hips and thighs. On the ground, pooling around your knees.

So much blood makes up your life.

Arms chained wide as though you’re reaching for an embrace, neck collared and tilted at an upward angle to stare at the prize in front of you.

Belatedly, you realize you look like the old depictions of the Christian Messiah in the realm called Earth. You are familiar with the figure: nailed hands, crown of thorns. But there are so many messiahs and so many religions tangled in your mind.

Lambs led to water. Sacrificed. Nailed. Stoned. Beaten.

You are not a lamb, but you bleed just like one. Red. Sticky. Constant.

It is a coincidence that you’re shaped in a style similar to the divine. The people who have chained you know nothing of religion and symbolism. They know nothing of the many heavens of the realms. They know nothing of the divine in the world. They are Vaesen and they know only violence.

The only difference between you and the Vaesen is that they hold the whip and you bend the knee.

Your eyes are dry. They burn every time you blink and look back up at the wings in front of you. Your dove grey wings. Plucked and bloody. Muddy and grimed. Chunks of meat are still on the sockets of the wings. Bits of bone and muscular material, fleshy and pink. Blood-stained feathers litter the floor, the cartilage crushed and bent.

Your wings.

The missing weight of them is worse than the hot, throbbing pain of the wounds in your back. But you supposed that is the point. To accept the horror that your power is stripped down to your most basic form. The pain is an added torture, the mangled flesh a fever in your spine.

They say to Carve the wings is to remove all cognitive ability. They say the angel becomes a host for violence, a being only capable of being commanded. Only able to follow. Never able to think.

Soon, someone will buy your wings and own you. They will make the decisions for you – do all the thinking required now that you can no longer control your body. You are a slave. A thrall. This is the last moment you will ever spent alone with your wings, those beautiful talismans of power.

You have only a spark of grace without your wings. You can heal yourself a bit and you still feel the call of the wind. The storm. The static. But all the power is in your grace and your grace is in your wings.

He who holds the grace holds the power.

But they don’t know.

So you watch your wings in silence. Your last vigil to them, for you will never get them back.

Angels live for eons and don’t do enough to win them back. Not so long as the Vaesen hold the Realms. No one has gotten their wings back after the Carving.

No one.

You will never wear the wings again. You will never feel the call of your brothers and sisters who still maintain their grace. But they never loved you anyway. You weren’t one of them – not truly. You have always been alone. You will always be alone.

Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.

You are Carved.

D E F I N I T I O N S

Carved - angels who have ben hunted and had their wings Carved and sold as slaves. Angel wings bing the owner to the angel, who reserve a small amount of their power.

Vasen - creatures of the Underworlds (i.e. demons, daevas, vampires, wraiths, werewolves, and other monster-type beings)

Vanir - creatures of the Heavens (i.e. angels, faeries, demigods, witches, elves, and other ethereal-type beings)

Tag List: @effielumiere @purest-expressionofgrief @hobisbabycake @pshychives @gaea23 @ @jadedrcps @sevenpersona @jadedrcps @sevenpersona

If you do not see your tag here, your tagging is not working. to remove yourself from a tag list, click here.

/ NEXT CHAPTER /

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtan boys #haliiimede writes #demon jungkook #demon!jungkook #jjk #jjk smut #jungkook x you #jungkook series

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loveamirada · 2 years

Text

Keith Powers-Savior

Keith Powers x (Black)Female Reader!

Contains:Depictions of Intoxication,Rape/Sexual Assault and Swearing

Warning May be Triggering!

H.E.R's Fate played through your AirPods as you put the finishing touches on your drawing of a modern day Cleopatra,it had took you 2 hours free hand to draw it and you actually didn't have anything negative to critic about it.

You felt your bed sink as you looked up to see your best friend Keith smiling at you as his pearly white teeth shined like straight out of a Colgate commercial.

Rolling your eyes smiling ,you double tapped your left air pod making the music stop.

"Can I help you Mr.Powers?"you pushed up your glasses before resting your chin in your hand as you propped your elbow up on your knee

"Actually ,yes you can Ms.Thompson"he kissed your forehead before laying his head in your lap picking up your drawing looking over it.

"Remember in our freshmen year when you made me travel halfway across Cali just so you could see that graffiti work under that bridge"he looked up at you as you ran your clear acrylic nail through his bushy eyebrow making them feather

"Yes and I also remember that you were the one that wanted to come"you reminded him

"only because I didn't want you to go by yourself-but that's besides the point ,you said and I quote"he cleared his throat closing his eyes as you rolled your eyes"Thanks for coming with me Tyree and just so you know ,anytime you need me to go with you anywhere ,I'll do it"he batted his eyelashes as you hit his chest pushing him off of you as you stood up making him laugh,he leaned back and sat up on his elbows crossing his ankles as he watched you.

"So you want me to go somewhere with you?"you grabbed a scrunchie from your dresser putting your curly hair up in a bun as he nodded slowly and you waited for him to continue

"A party?"he said a questioning tone as you rolled your eyes and your hands dropped to your side smacking your legs

"Come on Christian it's a Friday night and here you are cooped up in yah room"he tilted his head

"And your point is?"you twisted your neck putting on your brown moccasins

"You need to get out more,talk to other human's and be a normal 17 year old...maybe even get a man"he mumbled the last part thinking you didn't hear him as you picked up your volleyball from the floor tossing it at his chest as it hit making a thumping noise,he held it laughing as you put your hands on your hips pulling down your cropped grey hoodie that was halfway rising and went also with the grey leggings and white nike socks you were wearing.He poked his lip out furrowing his eyebrow as he held the volleyball to his chest looking at you with sad eyes

"Please Chris "he begged as you chewed on your bottom lip

"I don't even think I have anything to wear"you played with your nails looking down

"Lemme take you to the mall"he suggested as you threw your head back

"Gimme 5"you dragged your feet against the carpet

"Thank you mama"he yelled back as you threw your hand at him.

"Come on Chris you look good as hell"Keith said holding your hand as your red pointed toe heels clicked against the driveway with every step you took.

"You don't think the dress is too short...or tight?"you looked up at him as the two of you stood in front of the mansion doors and Keith rung the doorbell ,you were referring to the red body con and spaghetti strapped mini dress you were wearing.

"No and besides you got a banging body,show it sometime"he pulled at a curly strand of your hair that fell from your messy but cute bun as you smiled

Whoever the girl will be,she sure is lucky if she ends up with Keith,he's everything any girl could ask for,you thought to yourself as he grinned at you

The large door swung open as your heads turned

"Aye man ,glad yall made it"Frankie dapped up Keith with enthusiasm as he moved aside so the two of you could walk into the mansion as Something Real by Summer Walker and Chris Brown blared throughout the place as people danced.

"Looking good Thompson "the tall blonde hair and blue eyed boy gestured towards you giving you a look over as you gave him a closed mouth smile

"Drinks over there,pool's outback and the gang's over there"he pointed across the room at the group that Keith hangs out with when he's not with you

"Aight thanks man"they dapped up each other once more before he walked off

Keith's grip tightened as he led you to the bar as you got stares from multiple people ,men and women.

"K now this is for you"he handed you a red cup as he made his own

"What is it?"you smelt it as he laughed

"It's punch"he sipped his after mixing it with multiple things"oh so you get to drink and have fun but I gotta stay sober"you squinted your eyes at him

"No not exactly,I just don't want you drinking and not being able to think for yourself in this kind of environment"he smirked as he began leading you across the room where a group that consisted of two girls and three guys stood.

You've only ever drank one time in your life and that was a bottle of beer that you convinced Keith to let you try "well that's what I have you for"you grinned putting your head on his shoulder as he smiled furrowing his bushy eyebrows

After getting introduced to the group you were now talking to the two girls who were actually half decent

"Wait so your telling me we've been at the same highschool for 4 whole years together and we never talked?"Jayda ,the mixed one asked flipping her flat ironed hair off of her shoulder

"Yeah , Senor Gonzalez's advanced Spanish class...junior year I think?"you sipped from your cup

"Oh yeah"she nodded as her eye's widened

"I'm sorry but I got a question"Ashlyn put her hand on her hip

"How in the hell did you get your body and eyelashes like that?"the tan skinned blue eyed and blond haired white girl asked as you laughed

"Castor oil for the lashes and pizza and volleyball I guess"you looked down at the fitted dress that came right about were your finger tips ended ,you looked over at Keith who was not too far from you conversing with the boys.

"Well damn sign me up"Jayda joked as you laughed looking back at her until someone bumped into you almost making your drink spill as you turned around with a frown already on your face

"Damn I apologize sweet heart"He started as you looked at the unfamiliar man that stood in front of you

"It's fi-"you started before you were cut off by Keith putting his arm around you

"You good?"he whispered in your ear as you nodded

"Keith"the man with the face tattoos and hazel eyes nodded at Keith with a smirk

"Kyle"He nodded with no expression

"Kyle,Christian"Keith introduced you two as he extended his hand"Christian,Kyle" you put yours in his as he studied your face with his head titled

"Christian Thompson?"he questioned as you nodded chuckling"yeah that's me"

"My bad mama it's just you look a little different that's all "he said finally letting go

"Is that bad thing?"you furrowed your eyebrows

"Not at all"he raised his slit eyebrow looking at you

"Keith!"You heard her high pitched voice as you rolled your eyes

"Yes Alexis"Keith exhaled as he turned his head to his ex girlfriend dressed in the tightest and shortest nude latex dress known to man as she bit down on her nail

"Can we talk?"she batted her mink eyelashes rubbing her glossy lips together

Keith looked back at you as you shrugged and then at Kyle before looking back at the "5,1" Blasian

"please"she begged

"5 minutes"he removed his arm from around you before following her as No heart by 21 savage began to play and everyone got hyped .

From behind Kyle you could see Jayda mouth "get that dick sis"as she stuck out her tongue and Ashlyn led her to the dance floor making you laugh as you looked up at Kyle who still kept his focus on you

"You trynna dance or sum"?he asked licking his plump bottom lip ,you nodded trying to steady your breathing from the way he was looking at you "but first,let's get you sum'n real to drink instead of that kitty ass shit you prolly got in that cup"he smirked interlocking his hand in yours leading you to the bar.

Welp Keith wanted you to meet people ,act like a normal 17 year old and get a man... looks like your doing all three.

4 drinks and 2 songs later you were feeling amazing ,extravagant -fucking stupendous as you grinded your hips against Kyle who held them moving to the beat of For Free by Drake.

"You wanna get some air"he asked in your ear as it was fairly hot due to all of the body heat ,you nodded as he interlocked his tattooed hands with your leading you through the crowd

The two of you sat in his hellcat as Liquor by Chris Brown played lowly .

The windows were rolled down letting in fresh air to replace the smoke from Kyle's cigarette,sure you knew that people smoked weed and vaped ,shit like that but it was different to see someone so young smoking a Cigarette.

"So whats a graduated man like you doing at a senior party?"you crossed your arms over your chest due to the breeze looking over at him as he looked at you weirdly or maybe it was just your vision due to you not having on your glasses

"What just cuz I'm 21 ,I can't hang"he his eyes were low as he put his tattooed hand on your thigh rubbing slowly

"No not at all it's-its just-it's just tha-"you slurred out before shaking your head slowly as you felt your tongue go numb

"Jeesh I must be tripping or something" you held your head as it started spinning and things got blurry.

"Nah ,you just fine"he said as you felt his lips on yours,you groaned trying to push him back but it felt like your arms weighed a thousand pounds as he moved on top of you moving his hand up your thigh

"Kyle please,no"you begged as your voice slurred slowly

"Just enjoy it baby"he said as he unbuckled his pants before extending the seat back as your heavy eyelids finally closed.

Keith Buckled his pants as he walked back into the party as Love Like This by Faith Evans played throughout the mansion as the sweaty drunk teens danced against each other.

"Aye y'all seen Chris?"Keith asked the two girls as they vaped and danced

"Nooooo but here's her phone she left"Jayda slurred handing him Christian's phone as he groaned throwing his head back"Damn you’re sharp as fuck "Ashlyn slurred putting her hand on Keith's jawline causing it tense as he went on to look elsewhere .

His anxiety was at an all time high ,how could he be so careless to leave her alone by herself especially when a fuckboy like Kyle already had his eyes on her ,he thought to hisself as his palms grew sweaty.

"Kyle"he said aloud as his eye's widened ,he ran outside looking around the crowded block for the infamous hoemobile and there it was at the end of the fucking road.

Keith put his athleticism to good use as he practically sprinted throughout the long driveway and down the street,he pulled on the locked doors as he couldn't see inside due the tinted windows but could hear Goosebumps by Travis Scott faintly playing as the car vibrated from the bass.

He began banging his fist into the window repeatedly until he heard a crack not sure if it was his fist or the glass but due to adrenaline he felt nothing but anxiousness until a extremely high and pissed off Kyle stepped out of the vehicle as he kicked closed the door as Keith caught a quick glimpse of what looked like Christian's leg.

"Just gimme Chris man"Keith warned as his fist balled and his chest rose ,his breathing picking up

"Nah,you got yah lil bitch already ,don’t worry about what we got going on over here "Kyle who was now just in his white wife beater ,black jeans leaned up against his car resting his foot against the door as his belt remained unbuckled "the shit that girl got in there" he turned gesturing towards Keith's unconscious best friend in the car before stepping up to Keith who despite their 2 year age difference looked down on him with his 6'2 height.

"That shit was A1 for sum virgin pu-"he started before he was cut of by Keith's fist colliding with his jaw making him stumble back , Keith came back at him again with a uppercut to the chin as the blood spewed from his mouth and he fell backwards to the ground.

Keith quickly ran to the passengers side opening the car door as his heart dropped ,Christian laid in the passenger seat, her dress was hiked up and you could see blood stains between her thighs as her hair was now down and her head was slumped over , her dress was ripped not really covering shit

"Chris"Keith shook her body getting no response as his eyes began to water .

"baby come on wake up"he shook her unconscious body

He grabbed her arm checking for a pulse as he exhaled in relief when he felt it ,quickly he took off his red checkered flannel putting it on her buttoning it up halfway before picking her up bridal style and carrying her to his Jeep

He sat there watching her sleep in his bed as he cried ,he cried like a baby.

That night Keith didn't dare go to sleep,he felt that if he took his eyes off of her for a second then something bad would happen, even worse than what already has.

The sun was up and he managed to explain to his sister what happened and she convinced him to shower, change clothes,eat and to go out and clear his head letting him know that she would chill in his room until he got back.

Keith sat on the hood of his Jeep near Upper Glen Alpine Falls as he talked to god and cleared his thoughts the best he could.

#keith powers #black reader

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voxmortuus · 3 years

Text

Asking For It

Pairing: Christian Grey x Plus Size Alternative F!Reader

Universe: Fifty Shades

Words: 1.3k

Warning: I will NOT write for Anastasia, so please don't request it. I write Christian upon request or for my wife. Do not steal my work.

Image Credit: Google

My Masterlist | Taglist | REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

If anyone knew you it was Christian. He knew how you worked, he knew your moods, your temperament, and your sass. He knew what it meant when you were being mouthy and he knew that you enjoyed all of what he could offer you. With a slow exhale he looked at you.

"What came from your mouth?" His hand twitched as he looked at you, not because he wanted to slap you, but because he wanted to spank you, to correct your mouthy behavior.

"I said, Make... Me." You sass back.

His brow furrowed and he looked at you licking his lower lip. "Make you? My pleasure." He stated.

He grabbed your arm firmly and yanked you to him bending you over his knee giving your ass a few wacks and he pulled your hair to look up at him.

"Would you like to try that again?" He asked.

"Nope." you respond.

Without any question, he stood up and grabbed your arm, and took you to the red room. He closes the door behind you and he looks you over.

"Strip." He demands. You just stand there. Tilting his head he shakes it with a soft sigh and gives you a few more seconds, but you're clearly not going to oblige. Stepping forward he rolls up his sleeves and literally rips your tanktop from you, and tosses it aside. He looks over your curvy top and licks his lip. He loves your pierced nipples and tattooed skin.

He looks at you. "Pants, off. Now." He commands.

Standing there you look at him and slowly shake your head.

"Are you saying no because you don't want to, or no because you are being defiant?" He checks.

"Because I can." You state.

"I see..." He states as he undoes your pants and pulls them down and grabs your thick leg lifting your leg to get your pants off tossing them to the side.

Standing there fully nude he looks over your ever curve, to them they are your imperfections, but to him, they are perfect, you never seem to understand that he loves your curves, you don't break easily. Licking his lips again he grabs your arm and takes you to a bench and pushes your top half down so you're bent over and cuffs your hands and legs to the equipment.

You try to fight, but his strength outdoes you. You groan and let out a soft sigh. Before you know it you feel a sting across your cheeks and you let out a whimper.

"A warning next time, Fuck." You blurt out.

He wacks again. You realize it's not a paddle or a cane, nor a crop, but a belt. When he used the belt you knew you were overly mouthy. Letting out a slow shaky breath he wacks you again, and again, leaving red welts on your plump backside. Seeing the welts excited him, it made him want to keep going, to give you what you needed, and what he desired.

He noticed you were getting wet, and enjoying the feeling, his wacks got a little harder and didn't really ease up until he heard your breath flutter. Stopping he looks over his handy work, smiling he felt himself get harder. He undid his pants and began to stroke his cock and let out a groan as he approached you and placed his cock against your flesh. You let out a soft whimper. Shaking his head he looks over you. He slaps your ass feeling the heat on his hand from the now bruising welts.

Your hips move wiggling against his hard cock and Christian lets out a slow growl. Gripping your hips he rubs his cock between your thick thighs rubbing it against the lips of your pussy. With how wet you are getting he glides against you with ease.

Feeling how wet you are he uses the juices from your pussy and presses the tip of his cock against your ass and slowly pushes the tip in. You whimper, and your breathing hitches, and your hips buckle pushing back against him pushing more of him in.

Christian lets out a slow groan and a soft growl as he grips your hips digging his fingers into your flesh. He pushes into you going to the hilt. You let out a heavy moan as he begins to slowly thrust into you. You try to move your hands but they're cuffed down. You try to move your feet but they've spread apart and cuffed to the bench. You moan louder as you move your hips with him matching his motions.

"God Christian, you feel so good." You moan.

"Do you love my cock Y/N?" He asks.

"Yes, Sir. I love your cock." You tell him.

"Do you worship my cock?" He asks.

"With every fiber of my being." You moan loud for him as you push your hips back forcing his cock deeper into you.

He slaps your ass gripping tightly at you again as he reaches up and pulls your hair to pull your head back as he thrusts harder. His speed picking up and he lets out a heavy growl.

"Fuck." He snarls as he fucks your tight ass harder. Slapping, smacking, gripping. His speed picks up and he begins to feel his own cock twitch and throb with this want to fill your ass with his cum but he doesn't want to just yet.

"I am going to cum Sir." you moan.

"You're not allowed. You haven't earned that. This isn't for you. This is for me, and I'm going to fill that tight ass of yours." He growls as his fingers dig harder into your hips. Letting go of your hair he slaps your ass again and thrusts harder.

The pressure was building but you weren't able to cum, you held it. Like you were told and he was right, this was all for him, you didn't earn it, you were naughty and you were plenty okay with that.

"Please fill me Sir." you beg.

"Who do you belong to Y/N?" He asks.

"You Sir."

"Who owns you?"

"You Sir."

"Who gets to use you?" He growls.

"You do Sir, please, use me, cum in me Sir." you beg.

With a growl and a hard thrust, he does just that. Filling your tight hole with his warmth. You moan heavily knowing better than to finish with him, you take all of what he was giving you.

"Did you cum?" He asked you.

"No Sir, this was for you. Thank you."

"Thank you for?" He asked with a breathy tone.

"For using me, for reminding me where I belong. For reminding me who owns me." You respond.

"Good girl." He tells you slowly pulling from you. His cum leaking from you, but you don't even care.

He uncuffs you and looks at you. Taking your face into his hands he kisses you softly. Taking your hand he walks out of the room and starts a nice hot bubble bath for you with your favorite bath bomb and favorite bubble bath.

"You get in. I'll be right back." He kisses you softly observing his mess and your bruising and smiles as he walks to the kitchen.

Shortly after he returns seeing you in the bath he strips down and hands you a cup getting in behind you. You look in the cup and smile. It was your favorite tea, in your favorite cup. You lean against him and he holds you close as he starts to wash you slowly, caressing every inch of you.

"I love your curves... they make me so hard." He whispers in your ear.

"Thank you Sir." You giggle, you never understood, but for him, you would do anything.

"After, we can order take out, and watch anything you want and cuddle sound good?" He asks.

"Sounds perfect... Daddy." You bite on your lip.

"Daddy, I like the sound of that." He nuzzles into you as you relax against him.

"You're perfect." You whisper.

"You're mine." He whispers back.

TAGLIST: @luciferslittleastre

#christian grey imagine #christian grey fanfiction #christian grey writing #christian grey smut #christian grey #christian grey x reader #christian grey x you #christian grey x female reader #fifty shades of grey #jamie dornan #my writing #my oc #tellingyouastory oc #tellingyouastory original #my fanfiction #my story #fan fiction #fanfiction #tellingyouastory

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imma-sucker-for-a-beard · 4 years

Text

>WHAT IS IT ABOUT BEARDS<

I finished the post and posted it on my blog, and sat there drinking my water, smiling to myself. I found my phone and found Chris’ number and texted him. ~Hi Daddy. Long time no see. I miss talking to you… and so much more. *Winking at you*~ I sent the text and a couple minutes later my phone started ringing and the caller ID said ‘Daddy Evans’ I smirked thinking to myself. It is going to be a long night and a loving sensitive beard burn in the morning. Taking the phone and spoke in a low lustful voice. “Hi daddy. I’ve missed you”. Character Paring: Chris Evans x Female Reader

Word Count: 2388

Warnings: Few swear words, slight smut, beard kink.

Requested by: @sweater-daddiesdumbdork - I would love a story where the reader appreciates the beard. Can be soft or smutty. Both, it’s up to you. And for one of the actors on your board. – I hope it lives up to what you were looking for. Love you always. <3

A/N: I wanted to try something different and write it sort of like an article or blog, mix with personal (Female Reader’s POV) experiences. So let’s see how it goes. Before starting this story I did a little research to see what the real picture is when it comes to the view on beards. For the article Read here, actually an interesting read. J Constructive feedback is always welcomed. To @ajs-playroom-you-may-enter, thank you for your quick read through. Love you always. <3

NOTE: This story will be written as a Blog post with flashbacks, there will be switched between them. It will be clearly shown: Blog will be written in block quote, and Flashback with the title “Flashback”. ~Text message~. Mentions of: Tom Hardy, Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Jamie Dornan.

Summary: your two friends are named Tris and Jess. Tris is a single, 33 years old that works as a gallery. Jess is a married, 35 years old woman that works part time as a hairdresser. Then there’s you. Single, your own age, a freelance blogger and your own personal real life job, if you have one. You, the female reader start thinking about what a beard means to society in general and to women. You think about your own experience and you start looking at some of your favorite men.

What is it about Beards???

Hi Lovelies, sorry for my absence. Life happened – you all know how it is. Anywho… I hope you all have been enjoy life and are in good health.

I want to share something with you all and hope you will leave your comments below, because I’m really curious about what you think. Now that all the formalities are done let’s start.

I was sitting with a couple of my girlfriends, (for the sake of their privacy I will give them other names), Tris she’s single like me, and Jess is married. We had started talking about men and beards and what it was about them that made them so damn sexy. Tris loves a good beard and Jess finds them gross and wouldn’t want her man to ever grow one. Personally I don’t understand why, but that’s her and her husband’s business. This got me thinking.

>>>WHAT IS IT ABOUT BEARDS<<<

When you think about it beards are a weird thing. It’s hair growing out of a man’s face. Then you look at it like that is can be kind of disgusting. Hair around a man’s mouth just the thought of it sound highly unhygienic. If a Woman finds a hair on her face that is out of place, she pulls it immediately, eye-brows aren’t supposed to be too thin or too wide, heaven forbid there’s hair between your brows at the risk of a uni-brow. The slightest hint of too long hair around a woman’s mouth and its gone, women almost franticly study their faces in the mirror every day to find and remove unwanted hair – But men – That’s a whole different story. A study shows that out of 2500 women over 60% of them prefer men with beards. That’s a high number. I have to be honest with you I’m among those 60% because COME ON – Beards are fucking sexy.. Pardon my French.

Sitting here writing an entry for my blog, I start thinking about what experiences I’ve had with men with beards vs. those without. There was a world of difference.

Flashback: It was back in late summer 2007, I was at a festival north of Boston with a couple of friends, Jess being one of them.. We had decided that everything was possible that week, since we were leaving after that week. The second evening we had been drinking heavily. Jess had seen a handful of guys standing to one side and nudged me. “Y/N, LOOK!” I had looked at the men. “Yeah? What about them?” I had asked until one of the men moved and I saw him. “Holy Fuck!! That’s Harvard Hottie!” Jess had nudged me several more times, first stopping when I nudged back harder. “HEY! WATCH IT!” she had exclaimed saving her drink. She had said it just loud enough for the men to look our way. I was looking straight into the eyes of Chris fucking Evans I thought I was going to faint. Quickly making my escape I went to get a drink. Waiting for the drink and when the bartender had pushed the drink to me and said what I had to pay, I watched a $20 bill slip over the counter. “I got this one.. I’ll have a beer as well, thanks” I didn’t need to see who it was. I knew that voice anywhere. “Hi. I’m Chris.” I had looked at him with the straw in my mouth and smiled accidently drooling when I spoke wetting my tank top. “I kno… Shit!!!” jumping back only spilling more of my drink over me. I had quickly put the drink down and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and pulled my tank out and away from my body turning beet red. Chris chuckled lightly but was quick on his hands and had pulled a lot of paper towels and acted on instinct and stuffed them down my top. “I hate when that happens” he had joked and we both laughed. Stepping away from me he had ordered a new drink. I had not been wearing any bra under my top and of very conscious of the fact that my breasts were visible through the fabric. “Here, let me help you” Chris had offered and we walked behind the trailer bar. He had shrugged his flannel of in his half drunken state. “You need something dry to wear” I had looked at him like I had seen a ghost. “You’re letting my wear your flannel!” “Yeah! We can’t have you getting sick.” I had just been standing there. “But… You’re Chris Evans!” He had laughed. “I know and you’re Y/N, or so I was told. Turn around.” I had done as he asked and had felt him move up behind me as he moved his hands to your waist grabbing the hem to pull my top off. His beard was tickling my skin and he made me giggle when he had sniffed my neck. “Mmm. Pineapple smells good on you.!” He had said pulling my top over my head. Dropping it to the ground and taken his flannel and wrapped it around me and buttoned it while resting his chin close to my neck. “I’m wondering if you taste like pineapple as well.” I had been just drunk enough to look at him on my shoulder. “Only one way to find out!” and he had taken the bait. I had turned around and stepped closer to him and cupped his face when he had wrapped his arms around my waist. Our lips found each other and we kissed softly at first, the kiss became deeper and more urgent. His beard scratching my lips and chin, our tongues meeting and we gave in to the pleasure of the moment.

I traced my lips remember the buzzing feeling that kiss had giving me.

Then we look at the different types of beards, there’s a wide range. The mustache with a whole range of look, then the Goatee with a few different looks as will. The five o’clock shadow aka THE SCRUFF now we’re getting somewhere. To run one’s hands, cheek or even lips over the scruff. The sensation of the scruff or a beard over one’s skin is to me one of the best feelings in the world. That was one of the things I talked with Tris and Jess about. Tris agreed completely whereas Jess made a face of disgust. Personally I think she doesn’t know what she’s missing. – But that’s just my personal opinion. What do you think? Let me know in the comments.

Flashback: After Chris and I shared that moment behind the bar trailer. Chris has picked up my tank and we went back together to the others and the moment Jess saw that I was wearing his flannel. She hooked her arm in mine and pulled me a little to the side. “Y/N what’s up with this picture?” I had chuckled and explained to the best of my drunken abilities, what had happened and she had laughed so hard that Chris and one of his friends looked over as us and Chris had given me a questioned looks, if everything was okay and I had given him a smile and a nod making him relax. Jess and I came back to the guys. One of the guys had moved up behind Jess and wrapped his arms around her waist and she had let him. (This was now her husband).

That night Jess had gone with the guy and that was the beginning of their long relationship. I had been standing alone watching one of the performers when Chris had come up to me and rested his head on my shoulder and I had rested my head against his. “Are you okay?” I had asked him and he had lifted his head again and sighed. “I’ve lost my sleeping arrangement!” I had looked at him completely lost. “Huh?” He gave his well-known chuckle. “Yes! I lost it…. To your friend! And since she took my spot it’s only fair that I take her spot.” Winking awkwardly at me and I giggled. “You’re cute. Who am I to deny you a place to sleep? Besides you’ll need your flannel back in the morning!” He flashed a smiled. “Nah you can keep it. But I’ll still need a place to sleep!” We had made our way to the tent, and when we had passed the tent where Chris was supposed to be sleeping it was clear by the sound of it that Jess was having the time of her life. Chris and I laughed as we made our way to my tent.

Inside the tent we got comfortable and talked for a while before Chris took a chance and leaned in kissing me softly at first, and slowly the kiss became deeper and more urgent. I pulled him down with me, Chris laying half on top of me. Chris ran his hands over my body and under my shirt and I gasped feeling his warm hand against my skin. I ran my hand over his body and caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and he helped getting it off. And my shirt followed suit soon we were both laying naked and Chris was kissing down me body his beard adding to the sensation. The moment he reached my mount I yelped and he giggled adding a teasing lick. I was about to sit up when he pushed me back down and positioned himself between my legs kissing up me inner thigh again his beard added to the pleasure. He had looked up at me from under his lashes as he had placed a kiss on my vulva before parting my labia in a long slow lick making me moan aloud. “Aaaaarh”. My moaning only coaxing him more. He had wrapped my legs over his shoulders as he had hungrily started to eat me out with licks, nibbles, sucking and biting, until I had begun trying to push him away but ended up with me grabbing a hold of the covers, screaming out my release, shaking uncontrollably as he prolonged my climax, topping it off with another climax.

Just remembering the sensation that I had that night, the beard burn had affected me for days made my squeeze my thighs together. And Chris had kept it burning deliciously, the burning also being added to my lips, neck, breasts, inner thighs. God I missed that.

I read that a man’s facial hair signals masculinity. And I couldn’t agree more… I also read that there’s somewhat of a hidden message in the length of a man’s beard. Stubs/Scruffs are for flings and a beard means relationship meaning the man is ready for commitment. I never thought of it having so much meaning, simply the length of it. That’s in my opinion pretty damn awesome. But I’m still and bit sceptic about it. Because some men prefer to have it at a max length and some men looks better with a specific length. Or is that just me? Let me know your thoughts.

Another I read is that women become even more turned on by beards what we are ovulating. Our biological urges lusts for the masculine man. Our primal cave woman has urges and hungers for the primal masculine hair cave man to claim us and breed us. Uuuh I get shivers just thinking about it. LOL... Am I the only one? Oh, and I personally love a man that has a perfect hairy chest..

Another thing is that apparently bearded men are supposedly better fathers as well, because they are better at sticking around to protect and invest time in their offspring. *points to what I wrote about stubs and beards* I’m not sure what I personally think about this, because there’s so many aspect that’s a part of this. Social environment, Family background and so much more not just the length of beards!

I’ve found a few handsome men that are in the public eye. Tom Hardy a.k.a James Delaney or Venom and Mr. Bad boy with a heart of gold, Chris Evans a.k.a Captain America, Ransom and My forever crush and Boo <3, Jason Momoa a.k.a Aquaman or Conan or Liquid God. lol , Henry Cavill a.k.a Superman or Geralt of Rivia and buns of steel. LMAO. Jamie Dornan a.k.a Christian Grey or The Huntsman or Mr. twitchy palm. ;)

When we look at these men, they all look handsome, no matter what but they have a preferred look. Tom, Jamie and Chris prefer to have a beard and preferably the length as in the pictures and personally I won’t object. Jason told in an interview that his wife told him that if his ever shaved his beard again (bottom picture), then she would divorce him, he did it for charity but he also said that he felt naked. He truly looks the best with his trimmed caveman beard. Now Mr. Cavill. Looks amazing with a trimmed beard or a scruff. But he himself prefer to be clean shaven, not because he has a problem with his beard he just prefers it easy. Then he makes up for it with a nice hairy chest. But we’ll reserve that for another time. LOL

I personally love a man with a well-trimmed full beard and that beard burn you can get from it… Whoa YES PLEASE!!! I’d like to know what you think of a beard so please feel free to leave your thought in the comments.

Till next time. Remember, Be your beautiful selves, be kind – even when no one’s watching. And be brave. Take care lovelies. Much love. XOXO Y/N.

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hermionefae · 5 years

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Surrender and Kneel Part 1 James Conrad x Fem!Reader

Requested by @cynic-spirit Captain Conrad as Christian grey for the reader he loves so obsessively and possessively. Please?

“I don’t understand why I need protection” I moaned as my father turned the car sharply around the corner.

“Because there are some dangerous people out there honey, some of them want my guts and I don’t want you getting mixed up with them. Not after what happened to your mother.”

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, my mum had been dead six months. The official coroner's report said that the car crash had been an accident but my father knew better. Prior to that he had been hired to work for London’s answer to the mafia but he made certain mistakes which threw us under the bus and got my mother killed.

“Fine” I conceded “but I still don’t know why I have to stay with him.”

“Don’t argue with me Y/N. It’s the safest place for you. End of discussion.”

We slowed down as we approached a gated driveway. I watched as dad leapt out of our black Vauxhall Viva and opened up the gate. He drove up the drive and I continued to look out of the window. All I could see were trees, how could there be a house out here?

Finally, a house emerged from the gloom of the deep woodland. It was a large log cabin, built in an almost triangular shape that kind of resembled the bow of a boat, with big windows and a staircase that lead up to the first-floor deck. The place was deceptively large “what did you say this guy used to do?” I asked as dad pulled up outside.

“British SAS officer, specialised in tracking. The perfect person to protect my baby girl.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-six, I’m not a child” I called out as he walked around to my door and opened it for me.

“You’ll always be my child” Dad said soppily. I rolled my eyes and followed my father towards the front door which was underneath the stairs. Dad knocked on the door and eventually it opened to reveal a tall, breathtakingly handsome man with short blond hair, blue eyes and slightly tanned skin, like he had been in the jungle for a long period of time. He held himself like a solider and gave me a strange look that I couldn’t quite read.

“Captain Conrad” began my father but the man held up his hand to interrupt him.

“Just James Conrad, please Mr Y/LN. I’ve been decommissioned for a while”

My father cleared his throat and began again “James Conrad, please allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Y/N. Y/N this is James Conrad. He's in charge of your protection.” I held out my hand to James which he took, his hand was strong and warm. I could see light scars on the back, what kind of action had this man seen, I wondered.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr Conrad.” I stuttered out.

“Likewise, Miss Y/LN. Shall I give you a tour of my home?”

“I’ll get the bags out of the car” Dad volunteered and he scuttled off.

I followed James through the hallway and up the stairs into a big open plan living area, with a light wooden panelled kitchen in the far corner, two big cosy looking sofas which looked out through the windows and onto the decking at the front of the house and a large fireplace with a roaring fire already lit in the grate. Above the mantelpiece was a gorgeous landscape of a foreign land that I had never seen before.

“That’s beautiful” I commented pointing to the photograph “Who’s the photographer?”

“Mason Weaver?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of her. The war photographer, I didn’t know she did other works other than war photos.”

“She’s a friend” He said bluntly “Shall we move on?”

He took me into the library and then showed me my bedroom and bathroom. I was delighted to see that my room also had amazing views of the surrounding forest. Just as we were about to turn back, I noticed the door at the far end of the corridor. It was black and looked out of place with the rest of the house.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“My study, you should never go in there unless I’m with you. You got that Y/N?” He responded sternly. Even though his voice carried a warning and was vaguely threatening, it still sounded like velvet to me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to last these next couple of months without having some crazy fantasies about James

My father met us back in the living room and I felt a little ashamed at how many bags I had brought. Luckily James found it funny and said with a smile “I’ll make a start with these whilst you two say your goodbyes.” He picked up two suitcases and sauntered back down the hallway.

“Take care of yourself” I said to dad, enveloping him into a tight hug, something he wasn’t really used to. “You too Y/N, listen to Conrad. Do as he tells you. I don’t want a call from him in a week saying that he wants you to leave. Got it?”

I gave him a sweet smile “anything you say daddy. I’ll see you after the court case.”

Dad kissed my forehead quickly and then left me alone in the strange house, in the middle of the woods, with an ex SAS soldier who I had only just met. Suddenly I had the suspicious feeling that was going to be the last I would see of my father. I waved to him from the window and watched him drive back to civilisation.

Part 2 coming soon!

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #james conrad #james conrad x reader #female reader #reader insert #kong skull island #Christian Grey #50 shades of grey

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woos-lil-oreo · 3 years

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Make It Right

Paring: Kim Hongjoong x Choi Jongho x Female!Reader (Reader is Plus Size and a bit insecure) (fic is a Hongjoong focus)

Word Count: approximately 2.9k - 3.1k words

Warnings: poly!relationship, light manhandling, marking, cumplay, oral (female receiving), choking, overstimulation, dom!Hongjoong (pleasure dom if you squint hard enough), dom!Jongho (soft dom if you blink once or twice), self-doubt/insecurities, reader is loud 👀, pet names, squirting, voyeurism (I think it qualifies...) slight dumbification, unprotected sex (plastic wrap your peenie weenies)

Author's Note: This fic is NSFW. If you are uncomfy, please don't read. I wrote this out of pure imagination, dedication, simp, two brain cells, and a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Please don't steal (let's start with the warning while we're ahead of the game ✨) There's a part two! It's a fluff entitled Promise to properly conclude this fic. With that being said, enjoy, you dirty harlots 😙

Taglist: @ateezappreciation @joongsprincess @lil-ghostieiv @pikacuuuuuuuu

Intro and Masterlist ✨

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Another night, another six hours wasted. You laid on the bed in your best scandalous attire. A simple black lace demi-cup bra that pushes up your already high-setting DD breasts and matching black lacy cheeky panties along with a sheer black boudoir robe and dependable Christian Louboutin pumps. Candles illuminate the room with a soft golden ambiance, and no one to share it. This is a recurring theme for the past month and a half.

~*One week later*~

Hongjoong was working in the studio, preparing the next album to top the charts and break records for the group. Jongho must have had to stay a little later tonight with the film crew for Imitation. You appreciate and admire the commitment they have to ensure that things that have ATEEZ™ written on them are of high quality and top shelf, and their pursuits are extraordinary. You are just getting a little lonely because of how busy their schedules are. It’s not even when they are not home, either. It’s like they are present but absent at the same time. Whenever they are home, they are either too drop-dead tired to do anything, or you are already asleep.

The average person would think that with this beautiful home Hongjoong has, you would be able to attend to and entertain yourself. It gets lonely here, and that’s when your thoughts tend to roam.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your room, only wearing your grey sports bra and matching boy shorts. Maybe they just don’t find you attractive anymore. With your thick thighs that always touch, no matter how hard you try to separate them. Your chubby tummy that moves every time you move, decorated with light-toned tiger stripes and a couple dimples here and there. Maybe if you look like these other female K-Pop idols, they would like to--

Your self-destructive thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door and the turning of a doorknob. You quickly try to wipe the tears that threaten to spill past your tear ducts. “Baby, are you okay?” Hongjoong asked from the doorway. You manage to catch them, but Hongjoong isn’t stupid. Your slightly red eyes and puffy cheeks gave you away.

“Hyung, did you find her-” Jongho started to ask but stopped when he saw you on the brink of tears. He walked up to you and his Hyung and said, “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” You ask shakily. “What do you mean?” They asked in unison while Hongjoong has his hands on your forearms, and Jongho’s are on your cheeks, wiping your tears. “Exactly what it sounds like. Do you love me? Why are you with me?” You ask with your heart rapidly beating. “Where is this coming from, Princess?” Jongho asked, confused. “There are lots of other women who are beautiful and-”

“I’ll stop you right there. Do you really think that you are not beautiful? We are in this for the long haul. You are a beautiful and kind-hearted person who always looks out for us no matter what.” Hongjoong interrupts your statement. “Your beautiful eyes twinkle whenever you made a new accomplishment. You are the best cuddler I have ever met in my life. And I can tell that every time I look at you, your heart always stays made of pure gold.” Jongho said with determination. Your start to cheer up from the fantastic things they are telling you.

“Move, Hyung.” Jongho pushes Hongjoong out of the way and grabs your cheeks, and kisses you square on the mouth. Your lips automatically move in sync with his, and you can feel the raw and pure love he has for you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste the mint gum he was apparently chewing before they were looking for you. He finally let you go right before you had to pull away so you could catch a breath.

You were so enthralled by Jongho that you didn’t feel Hongjoong kissing and suckling on your neck, leaving love bites in his path. Jongho took this opportunity to place his fingers in his mouth, coating them with saliva. He then takes his slickened digits and slides them into your dripping heat. You moan at the feelings of his long delicate fingers doing what they do best besides splitting apples. He always knew what buttons to push to get you going. As Jongho continues to make you feel warm and fuzzy, Hongjoong was behind you, fondling your breasts (after he pulled the sports bra from over your head) and tweaking your nipples. Both of these actions help to tip you off to feel that small but powerful orgasm.

Once you managed to catch your breath, Jongho bends down to grab you behind your thighs and lifts you up with ease. “Jongho, put me down! I’m heavy!” You scream out while wrapping your arms around your neck, so you won’t flip over and break your neck. “Says who? You’re as light as a feather.” Jongho says as he roughly throws you on the bed, causing you to giggle. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and unbuckles his belt, tossing it along with his pants and boxers after he steps out of them. You just stare with a blank expression on your face, but your eyes tell it all: you were ready for him, and you wanted him to pick up the pace. Hongjoong is just sitting in the office chair watching the whole thing unfurl.

He proceeds to crawl on top of you in between your legs, his small light silver chain dangling from his neck. He leans down to leave small pecks along your face, and you wrap your legs around his waist, impatiently trying to get him to escalate his movements. “Impatient, are we? Can I take off your panties first?” He says with a chuckle. As he proceeded to do said thing, you look over to make eye contact with Hongjoong. He’s just chilling in the office chair in the corner of the room while sporting a massive hard-on, patiently waiting on his turn to show his way of loving you.

Your eye contact with Hongjoong is broken as you close your eyes and moan, relishing in the feeling of Jongho filling you up slowly to the hilt. He is touching every excellent spot inside of you. Jongho moans out at how tight you are, even after your first orgasm.

After he managed to catch his breath from how tight you are, he begins to slowly move in and out of you. “Oh shit, Y/N. You’re so fucking tight, baby.” He grunts in your ear. You savored the feeling of the hardness that is Choi Jongho, moving at a steady pace due to the slick heat you produced. You moaned out every time he hit that one spot while telling you how beautiful and unique you are. As Jongho feels his head spin from the combination of his pace along with the warmth and wetness of your core, you get increasingly louder until you just feel light and weightless.

Jongho comes with you, ejecting hot strings of cum that paint your insides white. He slowly pulls himself out of you and admires how his sperm drips out. He takes his fingers and gently rubs them down your slit, making the cum drip out more. He coats his fingers in it out of amazement (like he hasn’t done it before), collects what fell out, and shoved it back in. You squirm from the slight overstimulation when Jongho pulls from you. He places the dampened fingers in his mouth, tasting the delicious concoction of you and Jongho’s fluids. He hums out in pleasure and quickly leans over to kiss you. You hum in delight at the taste of your honeypot and his warm cum. “I think those actions were much better than words, baby.” He says confidently, and that makes you chuckle and agree with him, still feeling like you’re on Cloud 9.

“Alright now, you had your turn. I want to appreciate my girl too. I would like to agree on your last declaration, but I think she needs a bit more reassurance.” He says, a little too frustrated, probably from the huge print in his dark wash jeans. Jongho raises his hands in surrender and switches places with the oldest.

“Baby, we talked about doubting yourself.” Hongjoong says in a slightly condescending tone. “You are absolutely stunning. You exude beauty in everything you do and touch.” He says as he drags his hands down your thigh. “Do you understand me?” He slides his fingers easily into you when you try to answer. “What was that, sweetheart?” Hongjoong asks. “Yes, si-” You interrupted yourself with a moan as Hongjoong replaces his fingers with his mouth, directly on your clit. You screamed loudly at the contact as your third orgasm hit you fast and unexpectedly.

“Baby, you still haven’t answered my question.” You couldn’t really answer. Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are tightly closed in pleasure as Hongjoong teased your clit with kitten licks, drawing out your high. When you felt that you suffered enough with that movement, he stuck his long tongue into your sex. Of course, his tongue was not as long as his penis, but it always got you ready for what was to come.

He then replaces his tongue with his middle and ring fingers to be able to rise up and see your fucked out expression. Cheeks flushed and warm. Eyes tightly closed with tears on the brink of falling from overstimulation. Breasts bouncing as you huff in the oxygen your body desperately craves. Hands grasping at the sheets. Hongjoong feels that you are so close to coming, and he wants to just to oh so gently tip you over the edge. With his fingers languidly moving inside you, he takes his free hand and places it around your neck, squeezes, and kisses you. You loudly moaned into the kiss, feeling an intense wave of endorphins crash right into you. Thus, marking your fourth orgasm. Hongjoong glides his tongue on yours, allowing you to taste the mix of you, Hongjoong, and Jongho’s cum. He loosens his grip on your neck and leaves it there loosely. He also dramatically slows the speed of his fingers to draw out your high.

“The question is not answered, baby. I am really starting to think that you like this.” His fingers start to move faster again, causing you to close your thighs, but Hongjoong caught on to what you were doing. He caught one of your legs, straightened it, and placed it on his shoulder. Once that’s over yet, he looks at you and winks, then kisses your ankle. “The feeling of my fingers bringing to many orgasms, yeah?” Once again, you didn’t get to answer as he finger fucked you to a point where your legs were shaking, and you felt very wet downstairs.

“Oh fuck, Hyung. You did that?” Jongho says from the chair, rubbing his hard-on lightly to gain some sort of relief from the sight in front of him.

When you managed to come back to Planet Earth, you looked at Hongjoong, who was still looking down at your sex. His arm was drenched, covered with your liquids that didn’t manage to make his black t-shirt darker. The dark blue of his jeans was instantly a much darker shade of indigo. “Hongjoong, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean t-” You say in embarrassment as you think you ruined the mood. “Do it again.” Hongjoong interrupts you.

“Huh?”

“Do it again… with my dick inside of you.” He says as he quickly discards his wet t-shirt, boxer briefs, and jeans to get you to make it rain on him all over again. He moved so fast, it was like a primal switch in him was flipped.

“What are you talking abou-aahhh” You moan as Hongjoong’s dick drilled into you at an unforgiving rate. “Come on. Come on, baby. You can do it, babe.” That is all you hear in your ear as you feel your orgasm coming, and it’s coming fast. Hongjoong puts his hands on your neck, thinking that’ll help. The orgasm came… and it hit you like a truck. You came very loudly, screaming to the top of your lungs. This man really was out here having you tasting colors and seeing stars. Your legs were shaking again, and you grabbed onto the sheets like it was the last thing keeping you here. It didn’t really help, though; the harder you grabbed, the more you felt yourself slip into darkness.

Hongjoong managed to regulate his breathing once again, and he’s back to the fluffy soft boi/demon onstage that you know and love. “Baby, know you are absolutely precious and irreplaceable. You’re ours for a reason. I love you, Y/N.” He proclaimed but didn’t get a response back, “Princess.” He called, laying his head on your chest. He lifts himself up and looks at you. You are asleep with a blissful smirk on your face; just no good to nobody.

“Damn it, Hyung. Did you fuck her unconscious?” Jongho said with a hint of annoyance disguised under concern.

“Jongho, she’s still breathing. She’s asleep.” Hongjoong tells Jongho.

“Can you get her some fresh clothes? I’m going to clean Y/N up and change the sheets.”

“Why do you have to change the –” He looks at the big wet spot under your sleeping form. “Oh, okay.” Hongjoong makes his way to your closet. Jongho lifts you up and places you on the couch that no one uses on the side of the room. He steps out into the bathroom to run you a warm bath. After he proceeds to go to the laundry room and grab a spare set of sheets. He returns with your softest sheets. You usually have a problem with using those. Still, Jongho figured that you should feel special and comfortable when you wake up. He’ll deal with the repercussions later. He strips the bed, places the old sheets by the doorway, and puts the new sheets on.

Once that’s done, Jongho picks you up from the couch, goes to the bathroom, and steps in the warm tub. He easily situates you and him in the large tub. He grabs your loofah and thoroughly cleans you with your favorite coconut and shea butter body wash. You squirm a bit in your sleep from sensitivity and scrunch your nose like a bunny. He finds that absolutely adorable and dabs a tiny amount of suds on your nose. Once he’s done cleansing your body of all bodily fluids, he picks you back up with ease and sits you on the closed toilet lid. While holding you, so you don’t tip over, he grabs a big white fluffy towel and dries you clean.

Jongho proceeds to carry you to the bed, where Hongjoong has your favorite worn-out oversized shirt and sleep shorts. He leaves you with Hongjoong to get dressed while he cleans the water he tracked throughout the hardwood of the room and the bathroom tile. Hongjoong moisturizes your whole body with lightly scented vanilla oil. He feels a little bit bad that he put you to sleep the way he did, but he’s not going to say anything. He’ll fix it in the morning.

Once Hongjoong is done, Jongho has returned, dried and clothed in some cotton basketball shorts and a tank top. Hongjoong goes to take a quick shower, and Jongho puts the dirty sheets in the washing machine. You turn to snuggle in the blanket, but you can’t really do that since you are on the blanket. You manage to get the top half of your body covered, but your bottom half is still exposed. Hongjoong opens the door to reveal himself dressed in some black joggers and a white t-shirt. The boys meet each other at the bed and see you somewhat covered with the blanket diagonally across your body. They look at each other and chuckle softly to ensure that they don’t awaken you.

Jongho lifts you to allow Hongjoong to flip the comforter up. Jongho lightly places you back after he settles behind you, making you the little spoon. Hongjoong turns on the television just to have something playing in the background. He picks Moana and places the remote on the nightstand. He hops in bed, lying to where he is facing you. Jongho hits the desk lamp, and not even fifteen minutes later, the boys were out like a light.

*About 4 in the morning*

You slowly wake up to adjust yourself in the bed. You can’t, why? Because a giant teddy bear has you closely wrapped in his arms, close to your body, and head tucked cozily in your neck. Along with that, a sleeping Minion has his and your legs entangled to where you don’t know where you start, and he ends. You figured that you don’t want to wake them up. They probably have schedules tomorrow. You return to your slumber with a content smile on your face.

----------------------

And there you are ✨ i hope you enjoyed the read.

#ateez x reader #atz smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #kim hongjoong smut #choi jongho smut #hongjoong x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong smut #jongho smut #plus size reader #poly!ateez #kpop smut #ateez smut

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landinoandco · 3 years

Note

Can I have a enemies to lovers imagine with Max were I’m his teammate and we don’t really get along, we always bicker with one another when we have to do a conference together we get into one of our teasing and bickering matches when we get told to leave, when we are in a room alone we end up having a moment and kiss. Thank you

It's all your fault

Max Verstappen x reader

Warning: Enemy to lover

Word count: 2.5 k

Requests are open :)

When RedBull signed you for your rookie year there was speculation - especially considering all of the controversy surrounding that second seat. When people found out you were a woman, you were met with a wrath of disapproval and fury. It felt like the world outside the paddock was against you; they all believed the same thing: there was no room for a woman in the formula one paddock. You should have stayed in the W - series.

That’s what motivated you - motivated you to push yourself to the limits, to study the car and to strive to be the best. You were here to prove everyone wrong and that you had just as much right as your teammate did.

Your teammate. Max Verstappen. RedBull’s golden boy. Quite frankly you despised him and the feeling was mutual. You had spent the best part of 2 and a half seasons with him and in your opinion that was far too many. Neither of you knew what had started the rivalry and how it had escalated to be borderline hatred for each other; it was something the whole paddock was aware of and according to Netflix made great TV.

You can remember the day you arrived at RedBull HQ, the first time you had met Max: it was early September 2018 - already the trees had started to turn, readying themselves for autumn. It was definitely in the air, the crisp wind had made you pull your coat closer to your body causing a chill to run down your spine; but that may have been down to the nerves coursing through your body. You had just signed the contract, a multi-year deal and the first ever female on the grid. Daniel Ricciardo had not long announced that he would not be signing with RedBull again when you had gotten the call; a week later you were standing outside of the Milton Keynes HQ, staring up in awe, mouth imitating that of a goldfish.

Max was standing with Christian, a scowl crossed his features as you walked up to the entrance - eyebrows furrowed and jaw set tight, so tight you didn’t think he would be able to open his mouth again.

“Welcome, to RedBull HQ.” Christian had said, throwing his arms out to motion to the building, skipping down a few of the stairs to meet you. He shook your hand animatedly, Max still stood by the doors, arms now crossed across his chest. You knew for Max it must have been hard, watching as a new person comes in to replace Daniel, especially so soon after his announcement. Especially when that person was a female, all of the attention really was on RedBull now. At the time, you had made a mental note to talk to him - tell him how much you were looking forward to working with him.

You found out pretty quickly that he was not looking forward to working with you: “Hey Max,” You had jogged after him, the tour of the complex having long finished and so had the introductions to your new team. He stopped in his tracks when his name fell out of your mouth, hands shoved in his pockets - he looked at you expectantly. It was in that moment you were able to look at him properly, his broad shoulders prominent even under his RedBull polo shirt, his grey eyes locked onto yours. “I just wanted to say how much I’m looking forward to being your teammate. I’m sure we will make a great team.” You held out your hand for him to shake.

He just stood there, staring down in disgust at your hand. He opened his mouth then closed it, taking a step closer to where you were standing. Hesitantly you dropped your hand, a frown settling on your usually bright features. Looking down to your feet, you tucked a hair behind your ear - the loud silence filling your ears.

“Good luck.” He had said, before turning on his heel and leaving, shrugging on his coat as he walked away.

From that day, you had vowed to be better than Max in every aspect of your job. To make him feel just as humiliated and small as you did in that moment.

And that’s what you did. Your rookie year had gone better than you ever could have imagined, immediately competing at the front of the midfield and proving to be exactly the teammate Max Verstappen needed.

Back to now, you had your hands on your hips and stared incredulously at your PR, who had the patience of an angel.

“What do you mean I’m with him for the press conference tomorrow?”

“Well it seems you understood me perfectly well.” She pointed out, shrugging her shoulders. “I really wish you two would just give it a rest, you’re like little children.”

“More of a reason to keep us separated.” You fired back, slumping down onto the sofa.

“If it was up to me, trust me I would. There’s nothing we can do about it I’m afraid, you’re just going to have to lift your chin up and deal with it.” This was the reason why you adored your PR, she was more like a travelling Mother.

Max Verstappen had just had the same conversation with his PR officer, however his PR asked a very good question. A question that Max had not been able to give an answer to. “Why don’t you get along?” It was similar to the question: “Why do you hate each other so much?”

The answer had always been: “Because we just do.” In all honesty, Max didn’t understand either - after all this time it just seemed like the correct and normal thing to do; just like two friends having a conversation. Except you weren’t friends and he couldn’t remember the last time you had a civil conversation with each other.

He, too, remembered the first time he met you. He remembered that he had been blunt, cold even. As he walked away from you, he remembered the feeling of guilt and regret; you had been so bubbly and a simply lovely person who would make a great addition to the RedBull family. Max could think of no justifiable reason to why he acted the way he did and there really was no excuse for it. Every time he thought about being nice to you, you had to ruin it by opening your mouth and saying something irritating.

He stomped out of his motorhome room and in the direction of Christian’s office when you rounded the corner with your PR officer, holding a steaming hot drink in one and a tinkle of laughter fell from your lips. Max stopped, staring after you - the corners of your eyes creasing and a lopsided grin plastered across your undeniably attractive features. Your gaze flickered onto where he was stood - looking rather gormless - for a moment you offered him a shy smile, the corners of your lips twitching and eyes lit up slightly before you came back to your senses and scowled, hastening your walk.

The whole time, Max had been transfixed, his heart beating a little faster than it was 5 minutes ago. His brows drew together and concluded that he must be coming down with something, something that had the ability to make you seem like a tolerable person.

5 minutes before the press conference and you were watching Max warily as he prepared with his PR officer.

“What if he’s planning to humiliate more or something?” You whispered to your PR.

A chuckle escaped from her lips, “And I think you think too much.” She shook her head, still chuckling to herself.

“You’re laughing now.” You started, “He’s plotting something, I can see it in his eyes.”

“You don’t know the boy, if you stopped trying to jump down his throat the whole time then you would see that he’s an alright person.” She tried to reason but you were shaking your head.

“I offered and he declined. He is the one who started this, not me.” You said stubbornly.

Knowing a lost cause when she sees one, your PR officer said nothing else, instead pushing you in the direction of the infamous red chairs.

“Welcome back to the Sochi Autodrom and it is our tenth pairing of the afternoon; as you can see we have both of the RedBull drivers with us. Welcome to both of you, Max can we start with you -” The first questions were what we had prepared for, they were answered clinically and without acknowledging the other’s presence.

Then they asked the press and that’s when it all went downhill.

“It is clear to everyone that you two don’t always see eye to eye, I think everyone is wondering: does this have a large effect on the team and could it ever get to a point where the team has to choose one of you over the other?”

Silence fell across the room, you moved your head slightly to look over at your PR officer; who shook her head discreetly. She was asking you for no trouble.

“Ok, Max, let’s start with you.”

“Well - I - uh.” He began, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. “It will never get to a point where the team will have to choose between us, I’d like to think that we were professional enough to keep our personal lives out of it. At the end of the day, this is our job and we come here to perform and work in a team. If you can’t deal with that then I would suggest -” He moved his gaze onto you, as though he was talking to you directly. “I would suggest that you were in the wrong job.”

Anger seared through your blood, you could feel heat rise to your cheeks as you balled your hands into a fist. “Are you suggesting anything there, Max?” You put emphasis on the word ‘suggesting.’ There was no denying that the last part of his statement was aimed at you.

A ghost of a smirk haunted his lips as he shook his head, “Nothing at all. What do you think?” The tone was mocking and rather insulting.

“I think what my teammate is trying to say here is that he has the social skills of a skunk and quite frankly has the personality of one too.” You snapped, eyes narrowed.

“Why? Because it stinks.” Max chortled, throwing his head back and slapping his hand to his chest. “Is that really the best thing you could come up with?”

You were about to round on him again when the interviewer interrupted.

“I think that is all we have time for this afternoon - thank you both for joining us and for your insightful answers.”

Instantly you both rose to your seat and went to move in the same direction when you realised that you would only end up walking into each other. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you made a point of moving first and stormed past him. You knew you were in trouble when you met your PR officers’ gaze, it was enough to make you want the ground to swallow you whole. You even considered turning in the opposite direction.

“What on earth was that?” She whispered harshly, pulling on your arm slightly. You made your way back to the RedBull motorhome, a tense and uncomfortable silence plagued the air around you.

Coughing awkwardly, you went to say something but she held her hand up, opening a door that revealed an empty conference room. “Sit.” She motioned to one of the chairs. “Wait here, when I come back we will have a debrief and talk about what’s going to happen next.” She raised an eyebrow and tutted before walking out of the room, leaving you to exhale loudly.

The click of the door opening brought you out of your thoughts, naturally assuming it was your PR officer you went to stand up but instantly froze. Max had yet to acknowledge your presence - eyes glued to the floor, eyebrows drawn together; it was clear he was deep in thought. What happened next was the type of thing you believed only happened in cheesy, American chick flicks; for after Max was far enough into the room instead of his PR officer following him in, he closed the door and a loud mechanical click filled the room. He had locked the door. Not only that, but he had locked the door, trapping you and Max in together.

You swore loudly, Max’s eyes darted between you and the locked door. “This is all your fault.” You rounded on him, running your hand through your hair.

“My fault? How is any of this my fault? You were the one who called me a skunk.” Max retorted, storming up to face you, pointing at his chest.

Rolling your eyes you leant back onto the table, watching as frustration clouded his features.

“So they’ve locked us in here?” He asked, walking back over to the door and pulling on the handle. Unsurprisingly, there was no movement.

“Yup. Probably thought it would be a good bonding experience.” Your tone laced with mockery, “Sort out our differences.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Or a very bad practical joke.” He added, “Which is not funny by the way.” He shouted at the door as though it would spring to life and let you both out.

“They aren’t going to let us out anytime soon.” You quipped, crossing your legs as you made yourself as comfortable as you could on the top of a table.

“You seem rather confident about that.” Max fired back, his eyebrow raised.

“I have a feeling my PR officer is behind it, that’s all.” You shrugged, “Maybe they’re right,” You started without thinking about what you were saying. “Maybe it is time we set apart our differences. Could be the difference between winning a constructors championship and losing.”

Max eyed you warily, as though you had grown another head then he made his way over to where you were sat and placed his hands on top of the table so your eyes were level with each other. His eyes narrowed, tongue nervously darting across his lips.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked simply, eyes not leaving yours.

You were speechless, “I - uh.” Your heart thudded against your ribcage, it was an easy question. Everything about him infuriated you but was it hate? Had it ever been hatred? Your eyes flickered down to his lips, it felt as though there was a gravitational pull drawing your heads closer together. “I don’t know.” You whispered, his hand lifted to caress your cheek.

“I don’t know either.” He muttered against your lips before connecting them, pulling your face closer to his. You moved your hands to the back of his neck, raking your fingers through his hair.

You pulled apart, his forehead resting on yours.

“Let’s not fight anymore." You said, pressing your lips against his forehead.

"You know what would be really funny," He began, a sly smirk forming on his lips. "If we walked out of here, hand in hand, acting as though there had never been an issue between us."

You let out a loud laugh, jumped down from the table and intertwined your fingers together.

And that's exactly what you did. Hand in hand down the paddock whilst the video of your argument went viral online.

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whoree321 · 3 years

Text

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness

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superfanficnatural · 3 years

Text

The Choice Part 12

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Christian Grey x Female!Reader

Summary: Deciding to get over your crush on Dean, you find Christian, a mysterious billionaire that manages to split your heart into two. Finding out hidden truths, your decision becomes a hard one, who will you choose?

A/N: Hey guys! So I actually had this ready about a week ago however, I didn’t have the time to give it a once over and post it until now so sorry for making you wait so long! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Kinda fluff? Fighting, Blood.

Word Count: 3,441

Italics are thoughts

Masterpost

You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing. Aimlessly flailing your arm over your bed to your desk, you managed to land your hand onto your phone and picked it up after a few tries. Squinting at the bright screen, you noticed an incoming call from Christian. Sighing internally, you were about to pick up the phone before it stopped ringing.

“This is a sign, this means I can go back to sleep,” you mumbled to yourself before turning back over and closing your eyes.

You managed to stay in your quiet bubble of peace for a bit before your door was slammed open and the lights were suddenly turned on.

“What the fuck!?” you yelled out, shielding your eyes from the blinding light.

“Y/N, get up!” you heard Dean’s voice yell.

You could hear him come closer to the bed but before you could even stop him, he had completely yanked off the covers... leaving his eyes to bare into your naked skin as you were only wearing a bra and panties. At this point, your eyes had finally acclimated to the bright light so you were able to open your eyes and see Dean only in boxers, phone in hand, with a blush on his face.

“As much as I would love to appreciate this view, you need to get dressed... now,” his tone made it clear that the situation was serious.

You ignored your cheeks burning from embarrassment and walked over to your closet and quickly tossed on a pair of ripped blue jeans and a white top, “What the hell is going on?”

Dean was still in his boxers as he waited for you to get dressed and as you turned around, you noticed his erection poking against the fabric. He followed your line of sight back to his crotch and immediately covered it. That isn’t Dean... hell he would jut his hips out even more usually.

“Ignoring the fact of this,” he pointed down at his boner with his other hand, “and also the fact that Christian even managed to get my damn number, he just told me that Leila is on her way.”

Your stomach dropped, “What?” you asked breathlessly. “What do you mean she’s coming?”

At that exact moment, your phone had begun ringing once more, however this time, it was from an unknown caller. You walked over and picked up your phone from your bedside and hesitantly put the phone up to your ear after answering the call.

“Y/N, I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Leila,” you seethed, “how the hell did you even get my number?”

You could hear her chuckling on the other side of the line, “You underestimate me, you also underestimate how I could find where you live so easily.”

“What the hell do you want you psychotic bitch?” you asked.

“Mmmm... nothing, just for you and those wretched Winchester boys to die, that’s all.”

You looked at Dean with a worried expression, clicking the speaker button so he could hear as well.

“How do you know about us?” you questioned into the phone.

“Well that’s just simple, for the many years I have been roaming this Earth, I’ve heard the name Winchester spoken in almost every dark corner from many different creatures. Then, I come to find out that you’re trying to fuck my man?” she snickered in a way that made your skin crawl. “And the cherry on top! You even live with the Winchester boys! Once I kill you, I’ll kill them too and maybe even get a promotion in Hell!”

“You’re a fucking demon... and Christian never knew?” you were shocked to say the least.

“Oh... he knows, but that’s a story for later dontcha think?” she left no room for you to even respond. “Now, lower the wards around the area to let me in. And before you get any funny ideas, realize that I’m out here so I can go pay Christian a little visit. Lower the wards or he dies.”

You and Dean made eye contact, a single look exchanged between the two of you that held enough words for an entire conversation. Wake up Sam, get the guns, and lower the wards. In order for this plan to work though, you needed time, so you tried to buy some.

“Give us 30 minutes to discuss, then we’ll call you back.”

“You have no more than 15 before I start heading over to Christian’s place and killing him along with everyone else,” she hung up the phone.

You smirked, you had intentionally doubled the amount of time that you needed in case she had wanted to pull something just like that. You nodded to Dean and set off to Sam’s room, Dean moving to the armory to get equipped. Explaining everything to Sam once he was fully conscious, which didn’t take long at all, both of you met back up with Dean.

“Alright, so I got the demon blade, and you guys,” he stuck both his arms out, holding two angel blades, “angel blades.”

You grabbed your blade and tucked it into your pants, grabbing a pistol from the counter that was loaded with demon trap bullets, “Do we have a plan? We got about 5 more minutes before I have to call her back.”

“Simple, lower the wards, let her in, blast her to kingdom come, and send her ass crawling back to Hell,” Dean said, cocking his gun before walking out of the room.

“So... there’s no plan and we’re just gonna hope for the best?” Sam turned to you.

You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, following after Dean. Coming into the war room, Dean was posted at the war table aiming upwards towards the door. You got into position next to him and aimed your pistol towards the door as well. Sam went to go disable the wards so it was just you and Dean up there. You wanted to fill the void of silence but had no idea how to; talk about what he had told you before, why he’s risking his life for Christian. A few things you wanted to talk about and yet, you had no idea how to bring any of it up. It was like you were at some social function and you were too scared to offend by bringing up a random topic, you felt like a schoolgirl. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, you noticed the sigils on the walls begin to glow a bright red before slowly fading away. Once again, you and Dean had made eye contact and you both knew: Sam had disabled the wards.

The room was nothing but silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of you and Dean breathing filling the room. You had tunnel vision, aiming down the barrel of your gun pointed at the door. You wanted to kill this demon, once and for all.

“Where the hell is this demon bit-”

The door was suddenly blown off of its hinges, the door flying down into the war room and landing on top of the table, obscuring you and Dean’s aim for a few seconds. By the time the two of you could recover, Leila was already right in front of you, throwing you across the room. Your back hit the wall with a sounding thump and while you would usually have focused on how damn much it hurt, the only thing you were focused on was making sure that she didn’t hurt anyone. Dean raised his gun at her to fire but suddenly he was also flung across the room, landing into the wall right next to you and sliding down.

“Where’s little Sammy? Is it ok if I call him Sammy? I’ve been wanting to meet him for soooo long!” Leila clasped her hands together excitedly.

“He’s not here, bitch,” you spat the blood out of your mouth as you got up, “you’re gonna have to deal with us,” you rose to your feet, reaching behind your back to grab the angel blade.

Leila simply chuckled, “Hmmm, that’s too bad. Guess I’ll just kill the two of you then go find him, wherever he is.”

This demon was psychotic, it seemed as if the only thing she wants to do is murder people. And while that isn’t necessarily a rarity among demons, most of them usually don’t let their murderous rage define their entire personalities. She must have been some kind of murderer before she went to Hell.

“How about you come and try me, bitch?” you sneered, holding the angel blade in your hand and establishing a fighting position.

Her face conformed in anger before she rushed at you, an angel blade in her own hand. The two of you clashed blades like a duel from the old times, a few sparks flying here and there from the friction between the two pieces of metal. Unfortunately for you, you predicted her movements wrong and she managed to slice at your arm, a somewhat nasty gash appearing on your outer shoulder.

“Not bad, but it’s time to die,” she smirked.

Sam finally decided it was time to jump in for Leila was so focused on you, that she didn’t notice him come up behind her and put his own angel blade to her throat.

“Sam, wait!” you shouted out as he had begun to slice at her neck.

He paused, slightly releasing the amount of pressure he was holding against her neck.

“We need answers,” you said as you ripped a piece of fabric from your shirt to wrap around your arm, tying off the knot with your teeth.

Dean went to get demon handcuffs while you and Sam moved her into a chair in the middle of the room, keeping the angel blade at her neck while you had drawn a circle around the chair. Eventually, Dean had returned and clicked the handcuffs onto her with a bit of resistance, and moved back and out of the circle where you and Sam were.

“Now, firstly, how the hell did you know where we were?” you questioned.

“You know, I don’t technically have to say sh-”

She was interrupted by her own grunt in pain as Sam splashed holy water over her, “Answer the question.”

She inhaled sharply and put on a nice smile, “Fine, since I’m such a nice person... Christian told me.”

Sam and Dean immediately looked at you, “You really think that I would tell him where we live? You think I’m that fucking stupid?”

Dean spoke up first, “No, yeah she’s right. Hell, the dude found my phone number somehow, he probably has some tech guru to figure this shit out.” Leila made a clicking sound with her tongue, “Bingo! Of course, all I had to do was threaten the life of that certain ‘tech guru’s’ wife and boom, all of your information was right in my hands.”

You weren’t convinced, shaking your head, “And you’re just willing to tell us all of that? That easily?”

Leila looked at you and made a mockingly sad face, “Aww, you think I give a fuck how you know I found out where you lived? Shit, I just came here to kill you guys, didn’t work out, my best bet is to spill and somehow manage to get out of here.” The fact that she had so easily switched up her entire demeanor confirmed your suspicions of her being some kind of psychopath before she had become a demon, no one sane acts like that.

“Fine,” you whisked your hair to the side, “then what did you mean when you said that Christian already knew?”

She smiled cunningly, “I knew you were going to ask that. I said I would tell you later... but I meant after you were dead and went to Hell but oh well! Might as well tell you now, since I know it’ll do nothing but drive you even further away from him,” she finished that with an evil smirk.

Dean took the bottle of holy water from Sam and dumped a generous amount over her head, resulting in her screaming out in pain, “Just tell us what we want to know, bitch.”

She snapped her head back up to look at Dean, and if looks could kill, Dean would have been dead several times over. However, Leila didn’t let herself get too distracted by it, a new purpose suddenly filling her.

“Christian didn’t know I was a demon at first, of course,” she made a movement with her lips to accentuate the last part of that sentence. “But, when another demon came knocking on the door while we were having sex well... you can image how that went.”

Dean and Sam made cringed faces while you were stoic.

“After killing him, Christian obviously saw the entire thing and asked me what I was. I thought, why not? I like him so he might as well know everything about me right?” she looked directly at you, as if she knew exactly what she was saying.

And indeed, she did. The fact that you still hadn’t told Christian what you were was slowly eating at you, though, it seems like he was withholding quite a lot from you as well. Though, you refused to give her the reaction that she wanted from you, so you kept yourself calm. When you didn’t give Leila the reaction she wanted, anger flashed across her features before she had quickly covered it up.

“Anyways, when Christian found out that I was a demon I expected him to be disgusted,” she made a dramatic pause, testing your patience. “But, instead, he was intrigued. He couldn’t help himself but want to know everything about me, inside and out,” she winked at you when she said the ending of her story.

Your eye twitched in anger as you desperately tried not to smack the shit out of her for trying to continuously piss you off but you weren’t going to give her the satisfaction, “So Christian and you hooked up after he knew you were a demon?”

While at this point, she was becoming visibly annoyed that she wasn’t getting to you, she continued to try to get a rise out of you, “That’s right, the idea that he was hooking up with a demon was such a thrill for Christian. We were fucking like stallions all the time!” she began to cackle with laughter. “You know,” she leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone, “I won’t tell if you wont, but I think Christian thought you were a demon too. Or else, he wouldn’t have had sex with you.”

You had finally had enough, you stormed up to her and stabbed your angel blade right into her thigh, relishing in the sounds of her crying out in pain. You turned back around to Sam and Dean, telling them that you were finished and they could ask more questions or finish her off if they wanted to before storming out of the room.

You went back to your room and headed to the bathroom to wash off the blood from your blade, taking off your shirt as well to look at your wound. Although your upper shirt was basically drenched in blood, you felt fine, and you were thankful none of the skin sagged from your injury. Washing up your blade and throwing your shirt that was ripped and soaked in blood into the bin, you grabbed the first aid kit in the drawer and made your way over to your desk. Turning on the reading light to have a more clear look at your wound, you opened up the kit and got out the needle and thread. Before you could do anything though, you heard a knock on your door before it opened. You couldn’t tell who it was and they were closing the door again before you caught the handle and opened it wider. Dean suddenly peaked his head out from the corner and you were surprised to see him so soon.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, letting go of the door and moving your focus back to the wound on your arm.

Dean sighed, “Here, let me.”

You let him take the needle from your hand as he kneeled next to you.

“Told Sam to take care of the demon bitch, had to come and check on you to make sure you’re alright. Good thing I came or else you would have given yourself an infection.”

“Fuck off,” you chuckled, punching him in the arm with your free hand.

He smiled and grabbed your arm softly, the warmth of his skin emanating onto your own. It sent shivers up your spine and you prayed that he didn’t see the reaction you had. He untied the knot you made on your arm and reached over for the bottle of alcohol and gave you a look before you nodded and he poured it on the wound. You hissed sharply but didn’t move, Dean’s expression lighting up with pride as you took the pain like a champ. He began to stitch your gash silently but efficiently. Luckily for you, he kept his eyes on it so you had the opportunity to look at his face. The light from the desk was shining in the perfect angle towards his face, accentuating every curve and feature. His green eyes were shining brightly, his five o’clock shadow showing itself to your hungry eyes. The tightening of his jaw line as he focused on a certain stitch, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the softness he held in his gaze. It was like you were gazing upon a god, a perfect image, sculpted with divine intention.

“All done,” Dean chirped, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You collected yourself immediately and thanked him, grabbing the supplies and placing it back into the med kit, “Anything on the menu for breakfast? This shit made me hungry.”

Dean chuckled, “I’ll make us something, get dressed,” he began walking out of the room before he suddenly turned around and admired your bare top. “Actually, scratch that, don’t get dressed.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed, smiling even after he had closed the door and walked away.

The smile was still on your face for a few seconds longer, letting out a sigh as you recalled everything that had happened this morning. Oh shit, I should probably call Christian. I have a few... things to say to him. You walked over to your bedside and grabbed your phone from your nightstand, simply clicking on the missed call from Christian in order to call him back. The phone only rang about a single time before he had picked up.

“Y/N? What happened? Are you ok?” his worried voice rang out from your phone.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m fine, we took care of Leila... the demon that you so kindly decided not to mention to me.”

His side of the line went quiet for a while and you internally smiled at shutting him up, before it was cancelled by him responding, “Y/N, I can explain.”

You audibly chuckled, “Really? Out of all of the things you could have said, you went with the classic ‘I can explain’?”

You could hear him sigh, “Y/N, please... just let me explain it. I’ll tell you anything and everything you want to know. Just... please don’t shut me out without at least letting me explain.”

“You know, I’m kind of tired of having to hear you ‘explain’ everything to me. You can’t just be fucking straight up with me ever can you?” your voice was slightly raised as you reprimanded him.

“Like you were straight with me telling me you’re a hunter?”

You were taken aback, unable to even respond.

“Yeah, I know. Who do you think I am, Y/N? I managed to find out where you actually lived, and the phone number of a guy I saw once. You think I didn’t see the tattoo when we had sex?”

You put your hand up to your forehead as you tightly squeezed your eyes shut, “Of course you know what a hunter is if you know what a demon is.”

“It seems like there are things that we both kept from each other. So I suggest that you meet me today, and we can finally be open with each other for once.”

You exhaled through your nose in defeat, “Fine, 3pm at the airfield like you said, I’ll see you then.”

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impalawrites @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @wonder-cole @downanddirtydean @flashxspn @zooaliaa @huffle-pissed

SPN Forevers Tag List: @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @anathewierdo @janicho88 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @winchest09 @smol-and-grumpy @jensengirl83 @that-one-gay-girl

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @deandreamernp

Female Reader Tag List (All Fandoms): @punof-agun

Tag List for The Choice: @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @spnfamily-j2 @greenarrowhead @vicmc624 @pie-with-hunters @m-winchester-67 @ellewritesfix05

#dw #dean winchester #dean #dean x reader #dean imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean reader insert #reader #reader insert #christian grey #christian grey smut #christian grey x reader #series #the choice

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

better than the movie ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1757

request?: yes!

@m-is-for-monkeys “hey! could u write a super bdsm smut about colson?? Thanks♡”

description: colson wants to try something in the bedroom, but has to assure his girlfriend it won’t be anything like a popular movie series

pairing: machne gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

(i’m not good with writing bdsm so it’s not gonna be super bdsm-y)

If there was one thing you could say about Colson in the bedroom, it was that he liked to experiment.

At first, you had been intimidated by Colson - sexually that is. He was a big, hot shot rapper and actor. He had groupies throwing themselves at him at every opportunity. You had only ever been with one person intimately. You were sure Colson had done basically everything in the book by the time the two of you had gotten together, which intimidated you a little.

The first time you were intimate together, Colson revealed that he had never done anything more than just some vanilla sex. He had fucked in nearly every position, but nothing more than the usual.

Due to this, you decided to make a list of things you wanted to try. Whenever you were both in the mood, you’d cross something new off the list.

You had gone through the list pretty fast, and now you were at the one Colson was most excited for: BDSM.

You had agreed to put it on the list as a joke, not thinking Colson would really want to do it. As the list neared that particular item, you were sure Colson would also scratch it off and say he wasn’t interested in doing it. So, when Colson started coming home with different sets of bondage toys, you were shocked, and a little nervous.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t actually want to do it?” he asked the night that you had both finally reached BDSM on the list. “I wouldn’t have added it if I knew you didn’t actually like the idea of it.”

He wasn’t mad, more just concerned. You were grateful that he wasn’t going to push you to do it.

“I thought it was a joke,” you said with a shrug. “I didn’t know you were actually into it. I figured...”

You trailed off. Colson’s head tilted, like a confused dog. “You figured...?”

You sighed. “I figured you wouldn’t be into it because you despise the Fifty Shades series so much. I mean, when we watched the first movie together you were so disgusted. You said that they made BDSM look wrong and abusive. I kind of thought...the movies had turned you off of it. I know they did for me.”

Realization crossed Colson’s face then, as if everything suddenly made sense. “You have a point, those movies did disgust me. I’ll never understand why we decided to watch all three.” You giggled at his joke. “But they made me mad because they made something I wanted to do look like it was just a tactic to keep someone in a toxic relationship. I didn’t want to try and bring it up after we watched those movies because I was afraid you would connect BDSM with Fifty Shades, and that was the last thing I wanted.”

You felt guilty then. Even though you hadn’t know that was Colson’s mindset at the time, you had fallen into exactly what he was worried about, which had led to this whole misunderstanding.

He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on yours. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’m all for skipping it and going to the next thing on the list. I’m not going to push you to do something you don’t want to do.”

You thought for a moment. BDSM was not something you had ever been interested in, and of course, you now associated it with the god awful Twilight fanfic movies, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t even the slightest bit interested once. Even while watching the first Fifty Shades movie, you couldn’t help but cross your legs a little tighter the first time Christian had tied up Ana, or when he whipped her (although you had felt guilty for that one by the end of the movie).

And you knew Colson wasn’t Christian Grey. He wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want to do, and he’d never hurt you. He’d be too upset with himself if he did. You knew he’d be gentle enough with you, and if you wanted him to stop he would stop.

“Okay,” you said, before realizing that you hadn’t exactly answered his question. “I mean...yeah, I’d like to try it.”

“Are you sure? One last chance to back out,” Colson said, although you could see a little glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “I’m sure, babe. I trust you.”

He smiled and kissed you deeply. You giggled as he literally swept you off your feet and began carrying you to the bed.

“Decide on a safe word now so I know when you use it,” he told you as he laid you down on the bed. He turned to start collecting the things he had bought specifically for this moment.

You blurted the first thing that came to your mind for a safe word: “Pineapple.”

You felt your face burn with slight embarrassment as Colson turned to look at you, a small smile on his face. “Pineapple works for me.”

He held up a blindfold, silently asking you one more time if you were okay with what was about to happen. You nodded and sat up, pulling your hair back so it wouldn’t get tangled in the blindfold. Your vision went black as Colson wrapped the soft fabric around your eyes. He tied it tight around your head, but not too tight that it would hurt you.

With your vision gone, you suddenly felt more nervous. You felt completely powerless and, although you were now more nervous than before, you were also turned on by this feeling. It felt like Colson had complete control, and that made you tingle in a lower region.

His hands softly guided you back onto the bed before taking one of your hands in his. You felt a soft material wrap around your wrist, followed by the sound of a click; the fuzzy handcuffs Colson had bought. At first, you had laughed when you saw them. They were pink and extremely fuzzy, but Colson soon explained his reasoning behind it - regular metal handcuffs were surely going to hurt you, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He trapped another of your wrists in another set of handcuffs, leaving you completely helpless. You felt his soft lips kiss your neck as his hands began unbuttoning his button up shirt that you were wearing. He kissed over your exposed chest, giving special attention to each of your breasts. You moaned as you felt his tongue lap over your nipple painfully slow.

He continued down your body, leaving soft kisses on your stomach before his fingers looped around your underwear. You bucked your hips up to allow him to slip them down your legs. You whimpered as you felt his lips kiss over your thighs, getting dangerously close to the place you really wanted him.

He placed one kiss on your already dripping core before pulling away, causing you to let out an involuntary whine.

Colson chuckled at your desperation. “Have patience, baby girl.”

You listened to him shuffle for a while. You were longing to feel him touch you again. He had gotten you all worked up, you were dreading if he decided to leave you there all teased with no relief.

You felt a familiar pressure push against your opening. You gasped as Colson pushed himself into you painfully slow, allowing you to feel every inch of him as he filled you up.

His lips were against your neck again as he began to thrust, immediately picking up speed. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close and pressing his body closer against yours. His hips grinded into yours as his hands travelled down your body and cupped your ass.

You realized that having the blindfold on made everything feel so much better. Having your vision stripped away heightened your other senses, especially your sense of pleasure as Colson’s hips met yours. Pulling at the restraints around your wrists, you wanted nothing more than to dig your nails into Colson’s back as you cried out in pleasure.

You were definitely grateful that he had bought the cushioned handcuffs now.

You felt the familiar pressure starting to grow in your stomach as Colson’s thrusts became faster. You could feel him twitching inside of you, signaling that he was getting close to his own climax.

“I-I’m so cl-close,” you managed to stutter out through the cloud of pleasure that was in your head.

“Hold it, baby,” Colson whispered in your ear. “I’m close, too.”

It was hard to hold yourself back when you were so powerless against Colson’s hard thrusts, but you tried your best. When you felt his thrusts becoming more sloppy, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Your back arched involuntarily as you finally let yourself go, Colson hitting his own climax just seconds after.

He had his head buried in your neck, his muffled moans sending vibrations through your whole body. The two of you were breathing heavily against one another. You went to move your hands to hold Colson, forgetting for a moment that they were still bound together.

“Oh yeah,” Colson said, as if just remembering the bindings himself.

He slipped out of you and undid the handcuffs. An ache that you hadn’t felt before pulsated on your wrists, but it didn’t feel like a bad pain. Just a pleasant reminder of what had just happened.

As he began to untie the blindfold, Colson asked, “So, how was that?”

“Really good,” you admitted. “But also a little disappointing.”

Colson’s face was confused as he pulled the blindfold from your eyes. “Disappointing?”

“I liked the bondage, but you didn’t do much of the domination or the whipping and stuff. I feel like I didn’t get the whole experience.”

A mischievous smile came across Colson’s face as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to lay next to him on the bed. “I promise next time I won’t hold anything back.”

You smiled and pointed to the list on the bedside table. Understanding your silent question, Colson rolled over to pick up the list and a pen and passed them to you. You added an arrow between BDSM and what was next on the list and added a new thing to try: “BDSM, but this time no mercy”.

Colson laughed upon reading it and held you tightly.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker smut #colson baker x reader #mgk #estxx #imagine #one request #Smut #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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kimvvantae · 4 years

Text

puzzle; 7 (m)

➜ you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, a little bit of violence

rating: 18+

word count: 12k

A/N: sweet jesus it’s been so long but it’s finally here! this is the last but one chapter of the series. i genuinely hope you guys enjoy it and i reeeeally want to know your thoughts on it! feel free to leave a comment! if you feel i’m deserving of it lmao

enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

[bby bear]: where are you???

[bby bear]: you'll get late for class

[you]: i knoww

[you]: the traffic is so heavy today 🤦🤦

[bby bear]: you should have come w me

[you]: i need to go to the bank

[you]: i told you

[bby bear]: i could have taken u theer

[bby bear]: there

[you]: 🥺🥺 next time i'll go w you i promise!!

[you]: but i'm close

[you]: i'll probably lose the first period tho

[bby bear]: 🤦

You shove the phone inside of your pocket when you notice the pedestrian sign is finally green. The crowd on both sides of the avenue rush, everyone on their fast pace as usual. You're even forced to push some people in order to walk by.

Getting to the other side of the street, you stop in front of the building.

Tall as fuck. That cool kind of building with mirrors all over it, where only cool people wearing cool suits walking around holding cups of coffee on one hand and phones on the other hand talking business language kind of people work at.

You certainly don't work here. You definitely don't have any stuff to do here. You surely are not close to the campus and you will lose much more than just the first period.

Seulgi will most definitely punch your face when she finds out where you are and what you're about to do.

You confidently walk inside the building, pushing through its glass doors into the pristine, modern and gigantic main hall. Your black boots contrast with the high heels all the other women wear around you. So does the rest of your outfit. Mini skirts and oversized hoodies are not part of the dress code here. You can almost hear their minds asking, what is this person doing here? The clanck clanck sound of their heels clicking against the marble floor is somehow pleasing, though.

You stop in front of the reception counter. A pretty girl opens a crystal white smile to you. Her hair is tied tightly, her uniform was ironed to perfection. "Good morning. How can I help you?" She chirps happily.

"Good morning. My name is Y/N. I'd like to talk to Irene."

The smile quickly falters.

The girl side eyes her colleague that sits by her side. "Hmm… unfortunately, Miss Irene does not receive visits," she says carefully, still trying to keep her smile. "You must be mistaken."

You can see this girl thinks you're crazy. You quickly realize that people usually don't come at the reception and simply say they want to talk to Irene. But, well, what else would you do? You have to announce your presence somehow.

"Irene is waiting for me. You can call her and ask if you want," you insist.

The receptionist looks pale for a moment.

Hesitantly, she takes the phone and dials a number. You can still see that the girl thinks you're lying; she's probably ready to call the security guards. During her quick talk on the phone, you notice she's not talking to Irene, but with her secretary.

You also see the moment her eyes widen.

She hangs up the phone and stands up, smiling widely again.

"Miss Y/N, Irene is waiting for your arrival," she says, and you notice the slight tone of panic in her voice. "Please, accompany me."

All the other visitors have to show their identifications and take a quick picture on the reception, you notice, but the girl simply ignores this procedure with you, guiding you to the elevator instead. She explains the situation to the security guard and he lets you in. The receptionist still looks slightly panicked. She's probably scared that you'll complain how the receptionist was rude to me directly to Irene, but you won't. Poor girl was just doing her job.

The elevator is big, too. It has a panoramic view of the city as it goes up to one of the highest floors.

You always thought Seulgi was overreacting when she said how bad she sometimes felt for dating Irene, but now you kind of understand her.

You knew Irene was rich. You can recognize a Gucci jacket when you see one, and you've seen Irene wearing plenty of these. But Irene always acted so normal. Sure, she was elegant - and sometimes even arrogant -, but she was still someone very pleasant to be around. She never looked disgusted to be in your tiny but comfy apartment, she never made faces when she'd sometimes wear some of Seulgi's or your clothes when she didn't bring any to spend the night, she never complained to eat the junk food you'd buy for dinner. She was just… chill.

Because of that, you'd forget that she's rich sometimes.

Being in this massive building where everyone acted as if she was a princess made you remember, though.

Irene is beyond rich. Your standard of "rich" used to be Joy: someone that has a cool, big house in a nice part of the city. Irene partially owns a fucking company. She's so chill that you never even bothered to Google the company's name; you did this today to get the address, and it only made you more shocked.

Seulgi must have felt overwhelmed many times in their relationship.

But you're sure she was much happier back then than she is now.

You're used to their drama. They were already dating when you first met Seulgi, and you saw this cycle repeating many times. This time, though, things are not happening as usual. Seulgi is the saddest you’ve ever seen in these almost three years of convivence. Right after they broke up, you thought she was just being dramatic as usual… now you see that it isn’t simple drama. She’s actually sad and has been in this state for months. She doesn’t go out anymore, stopped doing the things she liked… she even got tired of Netflix. That’s probably the most shocking fact of all.

Jungkook said you shouldn’t get involved in this, but you’re tired of seeing your friend being so sad all the time.

Their breakup was messy this time. They didn’t talk properly, didn’t make things clear. Seulgi is too stubborn to make a move (she’s totally lethargic at this point, both physically and spiritually), and Irene also seems too stubborn. Since none of them has the balls to do anything, you finally decided to step up and take action.

(Funny how you thought Jimin was annoying for trying to push you and Jungkook together, but you’re doing the exact same thing right now).

Well, look, you’re not exactly trying to push them into each other. First, you want to know Irene’s feelings and opinions on this situation. If you see that she has really moved on from Seulgi, then you’re ready to give your friend all the comfort and support in the world so she finally moves on. If Irene shows you that she still has feelings for Seulgi… well…

The speed in which she replied to your DM is a strong indicative of that.

The way her eyes glint with undeniable hope when the elevator doors open and she greets you is another indicative.

Irene looks gorgeous as always; she’s like a human version of Snow White. It’s kind of funny to meet her in her office like this. She’s almost like a female and hotter version of Christian Grey.

Her ways of greeting you are polite and… hesitant. You understand why. She probably doesn’t get what you’re doing here in the first place, what you want to talk about. Considering you’re Seulgi’s friend, she must think you’d be mad at her or something.

“Why didn’t you call me, Y/N? My guests never enter from the common hall.” she asked. Oh. Common hall is what that massive hall is called. Almost like peasants area.

“I didn’t know.” you simply say, shrugging.

“I’m sorry that we’re meeting here at my workplace. It feels too profissional, doesn’t it?” she smiles sheepishly.

Well… it does. You don’t even feel comfortable enough to move around her great office, afraid that you’d accidentally break anything (you’re sure that every little piece in this room is much more expensive than you’d be able to afford).

“Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria. I think it’ll be more comfortable to talk there.” she politely suggests, and you just agree with her.

Irene guides you around the halls. This floor is less crowded, since only Important People with Important Tasks work here - and she’s greeted by all of them as she passes by. Their eyes immediately float to you, and they were surely asking themselves why Princess Irene was being followed by this peasant.

The cafeteria in question is as pretty and neatly clean as the rest of the building. Soft music plays from the speakers. Irene chooses a more private table by the windows and asks if you want to have breakfast; you politely decline and both of you end up ordering simple cups of coffee.

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air.

"I… have to confess that I got surprised when I saw your DM," Irene speaks softly. Her eyes are glued on her cup of coffee. "It's been a while."

"Yeah."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm doing fine." a hundred different scenes pass on your head as she asks this, and you know that you feel anything but fine in the moment, but it's not as if you'll rant about your complicated love life right now. "But I'm sure you don't want to ask about me."

You see a shade of pink flush Irene's cheeks.

"Well… I don't think it would be right to ask about her." Irene says.

"Why not? It's not as if you didn't know I came here to talk about Seulgi."

"But she doesn't want to know about me."

You're left speechless for a few seconds.

It's funny to see the two sides of a breakup. Because of their stubborness, they became completely out of tune with each other. Irene thought that Seulgi didn't want to know about her, when you knew pretty damn well that Seulgi stalked her social media an unhealthy amount of times per day.

You cross your arms and lean your back on the chair. Irene looks hesitant, but you see she's eager to know whatever information you may have. That's not the behavior of someone that hates their ex.

"Can I ask you something?" you say. It's funny how Irene, the owner of pretty much everything around you, looks so cornered by you, her shoulders shrinking visibly. She nods softly. "Why did you guys break up? I mean, what's your side of the story?"

Irene sighs and passes her hand through her dark hair. She looks out the window. She doesn't seem irritated by your ask. She just seems… thoughtful.

It makes you realize that, perhaps, Seulgi's not the only one feeling broken here.

"We're… different." she starts quietly. "I have been trying to keep this relationship working for a long time, you know. Even though we argued a lot and disagreed about many things. But…" Irene sighs again. Sadness shadows her features. "It was getting hard. Seulgi never accepted my help. She knows that money is no problem for me, and I just wanted to help, but why did she act so angry every time I wanted to help you guys?"

Oh.

You don't miss the way she said "help you guys"; she must be talking about the times both of you were struggling to pay the rent. Oh God. You clearly see where their opinions diverge. Irene has always been rich; she saw money as something simple, giving money to others wasn't a big deal. Meanwhile, Seulgi must've felt dependent and it surely hurt her pride. Besides, there were enough people saying that Seulgi was only dating Irene to get money from her…

"And there's more." Irene's voice becomes quieter, more fragile. "My family, they're… very conservative. It was already hard enough for them to accept my sexuality. They never did, to be honest… but they particularly don't like Seulgi, because she's not, hm, on my "social level", as they like to say."

Ooh.

This is more complicated. Seulgi doesn't know what it feels like; her family is very open minded. She told you that, in the beginning, her parents were shocked when she told them that she also liked girls, but they slowly accepted it. Irene, on the other hand…

"They keep saying that my relationship with her will be bad for the company." She confesses. "They said they'd even accept my relationship, as long as we dated in secret."

"What?!" you gasp. "This is disgusting!"

"I know." Irene nods, eyes focused on the mug between her hands. You have the impression that you see tears welling up on her eyes, but she blinks rapidly to dissipate them. "I… I was willing to go against them, because if they don't accept my relationship, then they don't accept who I am. But… I don't know if it's worth doing this if I'm not sure if Seulgi feels the same about me."

Ouch.

You remembered the night when they broke up. Seulgi came to you, crying, and said that she was tired of being with someone that wasn't brave enough to accept her.

Seulgi, my dear… you know nothing.

You can see that to go against her parents isn't as simple as it sounds. To Irene, going against her family involves reputation, money, and the company itself. It's definitely a big deal. Seulgi didn't understand how serious it is.

And Irene is willing to take this big step for her.

It's your time to sigh.

"Irene." you lean closer, staring at her seriously. "Do you still love Seulgi?"

She blinks at your direct question. Irene looks down, gulps… and nods.

"I do love her."

You can't hear any hint of doubt on her voice.

That's what you wanted to hear.

"She's not okay." You blurt out the truth. Irene widens her eyes softly and looks at you. You see guilt on her eyes as she hears this. "I came here because I'm worried about her. She doesn't act like herself anymore. She even got tired of Netflix."

Irene widens her eyes in shock. "She stopped watching Netflix?!"

"Yes." You nod seriously. "And she still loves you, too."

Irene freezes when you say this.

Now, you're sure of the tears welling up on her eyes.

"I…" she stutters, unable to form a coherent sentence. "A-Are you sure?"

You can't help but giggle at her; Irene looks shy, almost like a teenager - scared and excited to know that her crush likes her back. You feel your own heart warming up at the sight.

"Of course I'm sure."

A smile wants to make its way up to her lips. "B-But what do I do? I can't just walk up to her like this. I don't want to start another fight…"

"Irene, believe me. Seulgi will listen to anything you have to say, as long as you're being honest. Tell her about the situation with your family. Prove to her that you're willing to stand for her. I mean, if you're still willing to…"

"I am!" Irene exclaims in a heartbeat. "I am. As long as she's with me, I feel like I can do anything."

You feel yourself smiling. Irene's eyes are shining like diamonds.

"But you also have to try to understand her." You say seriously. "Seulgi is not wrong for wanting to be independent. She's finishing her studies, she wants to build a career for herself, and she wants her own money. I know you're trying to help, but you have to respect her. Also, I'm sure she doesn't want to be a burden for you."

Irene nods vehemently. "Okay. You're right. I get it."

She doesn't hold her smile back anymore as a tear rolls down her cheek. She looks so immensely happy… it's a delightful sight. And you can't help but feel happy too, because right now, more than ever, you see that Seulgi found something rare and precious in this world.

True love.

And this fact itself is enough to make you feel that coming here was worth it - even though Seulgi might want to kill you afterwards.

"But hey, Irene," you call her seriously again. "I'm doing all this because both of you stupid asses couldn't, but if you make Seulgi cry again, I will kill you. I know where you work now."

Irene laughs at your very serious threat. She leans forward and holds both of your hands. "Y/N, thank you so much for telling me all this. I will forever be grateful. If you need anything- and I mean anything- I will help you, okay? Anything!"

"Alright, alright," you say, shrugging, the slight thought that a millionaire owns you a favor sounding nice. "Now, you better go talk to Seulgi. I can't stand her walking around the living room looking like a zombie anymore." Irene laughs softly. "And… I said I wasn't hungry, but now I kind of want that waffle."

Seulgi looks like a very grumpy zombie when you meet her in the corridor.

"Where the hell were you?!" Seulgi exclaims. "It's noon!"

"Yeah, I know." you shrug. "The bank was pretty crowded."

Seulgi narrows her eyes. Her hair looks messy even though it's tied up and she has bags underneath her eyes. She's wearing the top of her old orange pajamas. It has an old kitchen oil stain over the chest. Seulgi from months ago would rarely go out looking like this.

"What the hell did you need to do there anyway? I didn't even know people still go to banks." She whines. "I was getting worried, you know?"

You walk down the corridor with your hands behind your back. You're glad Seulgi is too grumpy to notice the sly smirk on your lips, the way you kind of bounce by her side in expectation.

"Always so thoughtful, Seul. You're so cute, did you know that?"

She side eyes you, the frown deepening. "Why are you complimenting me?"

"What's the problem with complimenting you?"

"Whenever you compliment me it means either you want something or you did something that you know will piss me off."

Sometimes you forget how well Seulgi knows you.

"Jesus, you're too stressed, girl. I'll pay you lunch, okay? Let's eat at that Italian restaurant you like."

"When you offer yourself to pay for stuff it also means that-"

Seulgi stops in her tracks, completely frozen.

"Irene?"

You step back silently and hold your breath.

This is the moment that might end your friendship with Seulgi if it goes bad.

Irene seems to be holding her breath as well, her eyes round - scared, hesitant, hopeful.

And they stand there, looking at each other. As if time has slowed down. As if there was no one else besides them in the busy corridor.

If this was a drama, you imagined that the romantic soundtrack would kick in now.

"Hi, Seulgi." Irene says softly. "It's… it's been a while."

It seems that Seulgi's brain is struggling to function. "What… what are you doing here?" the fact that she does not sound defensive or aggressive but genuinely surprised and confused relieves your chest.

"I came here to talk." Irene says. "Just… just talk. But if you want me to go…"

"No." Seulgi interrupts her embarrassingly too fast. "It's alright. We… we can talk. Just talk."

Their eyes are gleaming and the ghost of smiles appear on their lips.

Your chest fills with triumph as you silently walk back. Not that either of them would even notice you anyway.

You're too far to hear what they're saying now, their soft voices drowning in the middle of the many more people walking around the corridor, but you still kind of hide inside an empty classroom, half of your body peeking outside of the door to watch them. They're talking and smiling timidly. You feel tempted to take some photos, but it's better not to. You kind of feel like an intruder watching them, even if you're this far-

"What are you doing?"

You almost feel your spirit jumping out of your body when the male voice asks dangerously close to your ear, turning around in a jump to see the source.

Now you don't know if your heart is beating so ridiculously fast because of the scare of because of the view in front of you.

Jungkook looks down at you with a puzzled expression, his hands behind his back, his body slightly leaning on your direction. He's wearing a modern grey hanbok over a black t-shirt and slippers. His backpack hangs from one shoulder. His hair is half tied up in a small bun, curly bangs falling over his eyes. This is precisely what makes your heart almost fail. You've been wondering how he would look like with his hair tied up ever since he decided to let it grow…

He's got no business looking this good. No. Fucking. Business.

But you're a master of pretending you're unbothered, so you just point ahead at their direction with an excited smile. Jungkook's eyes look up to where you're pointing and his eyes widen.

"Oh!" Almost instantly, he kind of hides behind you as well. It's hard to ignore the warmth of his body on your back, even though he isn't close enough to touch you. "Did they make up? Are they dating again?"

"I hope they will." it's weird how you're both speaking so low, as if they could possibly hear you over the loud chatter.

"What if they start fighting?"

"Don't even say that! I put my friendship with Seulgi at risk to get these two to talk!"

You turn your head in time to see Jungkook's eyes frowning as he realizes what's going on.

"It was you?"

"Of course it was."

He crosses his arms over his broad chest and shakes his head slowly in disapproval. "You said you wouldn't get involved!"

"I never said I wasn't going to get involved." you bat your lashes prettily at him, trying to give your best innocent look (unsuccessfully).

"You damn gremlin."

You whack his chest. "Aw, come on! Just look at them and tell me it isn't working!"

Both of you look ahead again to see them smiling sweetly at each other as they talk. You bounce and giggle excitedly like a little kid. "Look, look! She's blushing!"

Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "But what about Jennie?"

"Oh, Irene and Jennie went out on dates, but it didn't work out in the end. They're just friends." you repeat the exact same words Irene told you earlier.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, if she cheats on Seulgi, I'll kill her."

You watch as they slowly start to walk away side by side, heading towards the exit.

You jump out of your "hideout" and open your arms in triumph. "I did great this time, didn't I?!"

Jungkook chuckles and leans on the doorway, arms crossed. "Whatever you say."

You're an expert at acting unbothered, but right now it's really hard to do so when he looks at you this way.

He has a pretty lazy smile on his lips. It makes you feel hot inside and your stomach jumps and your heart races. His gaze is intense… but not in the way you're used to. That look isn't his I want to fuck kind of look, it's… it's… shit, you don't know what that means, but it's pretty intense. Why is he looking at you like that?

You just hope he doesn't notice how your legs are wobbly.

It's the first time you see him in person since two days ago, when he slept at your house. Two days after you had sex even though you said you wouldn't. You didn't talk properly about what happened there. To be honest, your brain still didn't process that well.

Things are awkward between you two - but this time it's a different kind of awkward. A type of awkward that made your cheeks burn while you cleaned yourself and got dressed. A type of awkward that made you feel all fuzzy and warm inside, that made a silly smile grow on your lips every time your eyes crossed his from the other side of the living room, an awkwardness that forced you both to look away and try to pretend your cheeks weren't aching from the damn smile that didn't want to go away. A type of awkward that didn't let you talk about what happened - as if none of you wanted to talk about it, to just keep it engraved in your minds forever, as if talking about it would take all the magic of the moment away.

You don't hate this type of awkward.

It's not uncomfortable. Not like what has been happening for the past months. Yet, you feel that you need to talk about it - to sort things out clearly and straightforwardly this time… because if the way he's looking at you means anything, then maybe… just maybe…

"I've got good news." Jungkook says suddenly (because he noticed that you've been staring at each other for far too long to not be embarrassing anymore).

"What?" you fiddle with your own fingers, trying to ease the tension.

"Remember that director I told you about? Mr. Choi?" You nod. "He invited me to work with him."

Your jaw drops, your eyes widen. "What? Are you serious?!"

Jungkook nods excitedly. "Yeah. Well, I'll be like the assistant of the assistant, to be honest, but… he invited me to work with him on his next project. I'll gain some real experience, at least…"

"Are you kidding? This is great, Kook! What the fuck!"

You jump over to hug him, your arms dropping around his shoulders, and Jungkook quickly hugs you back. His low excited giggle right next to your ear makes goosebumps crawl on your skin.

"I'm so fucking proud of you!" And you couldn't be more honest. Jungkook has always been so hardworking; he deserves all the success and recognition in the world. You always thought so.

"Thank you," his voice is still low and excited.

He caresses your back. It makes yet more goosebumps crawl on your skin.

Oh, God. He still smells like baby powder. He always does. You feel tempted to sniff the crook of his neck, just to take a little bit more of his scent, but you hold yourself back. It's not like hugging Jungkook is something new to you. Fuck, after everything you've done, hugging should feel like nothing. But for some reason… hugging him right now feels like a lot.

Feels awkward.

So awkward that you have to remind yourself that you're in the middle of a corridor full of people, and that this hug is taking way too long, so you step back before your brain completely malfunctions.

"A-And," you clear your throat and put a strand of hair behind your ear, furiously avoiding his gaze. You never thought that Jungkook would make you feel shy like this. Shy and Y/N shouldn’t make sense in the same sentence. "When is this next project?"

"In two days. I think he decided to put me on the crew last minute."

"This means that he really trusts you."

Jungkook smiles sheepishly and massages the back of his neck. "I just hope I won't mess things up."

"You'll do great, Kook. You always do."

He lifts his gaze to you again.

That same look again.

You feel that everything is blurred except him again. No one else is in that corridor. No loud chatter. Just him and his starry eyes, looking back at you, eyes that smile as much as his lips.

God.

You need to sort things out.

You can't just stare at him with heart eyes like this anymore. You need to talk about what happened. This conversation feels awkward because you're both trying to act normal, pretending that there isn't a fucking elephant in the room - an elephant that makes you think of a mattress in the middle of your living room, of sunrays touching his exposed skin, of old pajamas being thrown around and sweat and soft kisses and salty tears dripping down your temples.

You need to know if he also felt that that morning was different. You need to know if he feels the same. Even if he doesn't - even if his heart lays with Yeri or Joy or whoever it might be - you need to know, and you don't care about what the outcome might be. You just can't torture yourself like this anymore.

So you inhale and gulp.

"Jungkook, I was thinking… are you busy after classes?" you ask timidly.

He presses his lips together. "Actually, I am. The boys and I are planning to celebrate the end of the semester tonight."

Mission abort! Mission abort!!

"Why?"

"Oh- it's nothing. I was just…" you can't think of any excuse. "It's not that important anyway. Forget it."

Jungkook looks at you with suspicion. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I'm sure. Nevermind."

He still stares at you for a while, frowning.

"You wanna come with us?"

"No!" you shake your hands dismissively. You're not having this super important conversation surrounded by all of his friends. "I'm just gonna bother you guys. It's fine, Jungkook. Enjoy your night."

Jungkook shrugs. He takes his phone from his back pocket for a moment. "Well, I gotta go. I promised I'd pay Jimin lunch."

"Alright."

You start to walk in opposite directions.

“But we can meet tomorrow, right?” You turn around way too fast when you hear Jungkook say, a few steps away from you. He looks hesitant, an awkward little smile on his lips. “I have some stuff to do, but we can see each other at night. After I finish preparing my stuff. We could meet, right?” He visibly starts to look more and more awkward as he speaks. As if his confidence started to vanish. It’s kind of adorable. “You could come to my place. O-Or I could go to yours, I don’t care- I mean, can I?”

Your heart is bouncing crazily inside of you. You don’t notice how you’re mirroring his awkward smile. “Of course, Kook. When did you ever need permission to go to my apartment?”

Jungkook frowns as if he just realized how stupid his ask was. “Guess you’re right. Or maybe we could go out somewhere, right? It’s been a while since we went out, the two of us.”

He’s right. All you’ve been doing for the past months is meet to have sex. You don’t even remember the last time you two did something that didn’t involve getting naked.

“Sure, let’s go out.”

You stare at each other for a few more awkward moments (awkward is a word you’ve been thinking a lot about lately). See, that’s not how things would go between you two back then. Neither of you ever needed to ask previously to go out. You’d just usually drag Jungkook out of his house by force when you deemed he hasn’t been taking enough sunlight (fucking Overwatch). Or Jungkook would call you at 3am because he was bored of playing Overwatch and just realized there was only expired milk and an empty box of cereal in the cabinets because the last time he and Jimin bought food was 2 weeks ago and he’d be like “hey, let’s go to Walmart” and you’d be like “what the fuck Jungkook it’s 3am” and he’d be like “but Jimin’s not home I need help” and you’d be like “fuck you” but twenty minutes later you’d both be on your pajamas pushing a cart inside of an empty Walmart as you barely register Jungkook ranting about how he thinks he’s lactose intolerant because he had diarrhea the last time he ate yogurt.

That’s kind of how things used to go back then.

At the same time you desperately want your relationship to go back to normal, you don’t really hate the way you’re feeling right now.

“Right, I gotta go.” Jungkook snaps out of it faster than you and nods. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.”

Again, you turn around and start to walk in opposite directions. Slowly. Hesitantly. Because both of you know you don't want to go. Both of you know you still have a lot to talk about.

But maybe later.

[bby bear]: i kinda want to kill you rn but

[bby bear]: thank u so fcking much

[bby bear]: ily

[bby bear]: bitch

You're smiling so hard that your cheeks might probably start to ache. If Seulgi texted you this, it means things went really well with Irene.

The chatter in the dining hall is nothing but background noise on your ears as you scroll down your boring Instagram feed, the plate just half eaten in front of you. You’re not really hungry. Maybe the stress of studying for finals messed your stomach. The hell’s finally over, at least, and you’re sure that your grades won’t be that bad (Seulgi didn’t want to do anything, but you at least convinced her to study with you. That’s the only thing that got her out of her bedroom. Her zombie state was kinda the reason why you studied so hard).

Some text notifications pop on your screen, but you just swipe them away since none of them are from the person you’re waiting for. All of your friends are planning to go out tonight and some of them are asking if you want to go. No, you don’t. Honestly, you’ve not been feeling yourself these days. Past you would always be up to a party. Past you wouldn’t be having lunch alone in the dining hall - honestly though, you don’t even mind being by yourself. Nothing would make you feel emptier right now than being surrounded by random people. Just one person matters at the moment-

“Hi.”

You almost drop the phone inside the plate when you look up to see who just sat in front of you.

Joy.

Your throat feels suddenly bitter. You have to gulp.

“Jesus, I didn’t even notice you come,” you inhale and chuckle. “How you doing, Joy?”

Joy smiles. “I’m fine.”

She’s lying.

There’s something in the way she looks at you and in the way her smile looks plastic-fake that makes you shiver.

It makes you think that she didn’t even want to be here.

Well, you don’t know about her, but you certainly feel uncomfortable right now. You can’t lie that you’ve been feeling kind of guilty these days because you’ve been fucking the guy she likes in secret, but a big fat load of guilt hit you especially after two days ago. Joy went on a date with Jungkook and barely a few hours later you had him inside of you. And, of course, you had rough sex with him inside of her bathroom. All the while you knew Joy liked him and encouraged her to be with him-

Wow, it’s getting hard to look at her right now.

You really are a bitch. In the beginning you didn’t feel bad because you stupidly assumed there weren’t feelings involved. It was just friends with benefits, right? You even agreed that you could have sex with other people. If Jungkook started dating Joy, of course you’d stop doing it. Also, there was nothing between you two. You didn’t even feel jealousy.

Things changed, though, and at some point you genuinely started to hate this poor girl for breathing around Jungkook. And now you feel guilty because you realized that you like the guy that she told you she had a crush on months ago.

I took a shower this morning, so why do I feel so dirty right now?

A shiver runs down your spine.

The way she’s looking at you… what if she knows-?

“I’m throwing a party tonight,” she says suddenly. “To celebrate the end of the semester. You wanna come?”

You’ve been fucking the guy she likes for months and there she is, being nice and inviting you to her party. You really are a fake ass bitch-

“O-Oh.” You rub the back of your neck. “I, uhm… thanks, Joy, but I’m not feeling very well today. I just feel like sleeping, to be honest.” You chuckle sheepishly again.

Joy nods. “Alright.”

She doesn’t insist. It looks like she doesn’t even care. As if she’s just being polite.

In fact, it kind of looks that she’s relieved that you said no-

“So, how was your date with Taehyung?” She changes the topic quickly. “We didn’t even talk about it.”

Right. She’s talking about the person you don’t even want to think about because there’s only so much guilt one person can feel at once.

“It was fun.” You say. “We had a lot of fun.”

It sounds stupid, the way you can’t even articulate your date with him. You’re not lying - you had fun… kind of.

“Are you dating him now?”

Okay, this is getting strange. Not the question, but the way she asked. You’re 100% sure she’s annoyed by something, and honestly looks uninterested in your current state with Taehyung right now, so why is she asking anyway?

“No, we’re not.” You admit.

Joy stares at you in silence as if she’s waiting for you to say something more, but you say nothing else. Joy then nods. This is getting very uncomfortable.

You feel that she’s about to leave, so you pick up the courage to speak again. She touched this topic anyway.

You know it’s wrong to ask. You shouldn’t. But you’re so curious that you can’t help.

“A-And, uhm… what about you and Jungkook? How was your date?” you try so hard to pretend you’re not dying curious to know.

Joy stares at you in silence again. She isn’t smiling.

“He didn’t tell you?”

What? Is there something to tell?!

“No. Jungkook’s kinda private about this type of thing,” you’re lying, of course, because even if Jungkook didn’t want to, you’d usually annoy him with questions about his dates so hard that he’d end up telling everything that happened.

Joy looks away and quirks one eyebrow. “Oh. I assumed he would have since you guys are so close.”

The way she says so close bothers you.

It’s her turn to rub the back of her neck, her eyes glued on the table - only she doesn’t look nervous. Yeah, she’s annoyed. Joy takes so long to talk that you’re about to repeat your question, but she finally speaks:

“We also had fun. Jungkook really is a sweet guy, right? He did nothing wrong. He’s so polite that it ended up annoying me, honestly. More polite than I would have wanted him to be…” Hah, so they didn’t fuck! Great! “Well, he dropped me home and I invited him to spend the night and all, but… He was very polite. He apologized a lot and said that he couldn’t stay…”

Joy licks her lips. Why the dramatic pause? Say it already, come on!

“He’s also a very honest guy, right?” She chuckled, but she clearly didn’t think it was funny. “He said that he thought I was an amazing person, but things wouldn’t go further than this because…”

For the first time, Joy lifts her gaze and looks at you.

“Because he already had feelings for someone else.”

You’re honestly not breathing anymore.

Joy is watching you very carefully. You’re as stiff as a board.

“Not a fun way to finish a date, right?” She says and chuckles, again, it’s clear she isn’t happy at all. “Anyways, I have to go now. Bye.”

She gets up and walks away before you can even say anything, as if this conversation was being unbearable for her.

Meanwhile, you just sit there. Frozen. Breathless.

He said things wouldn’t go further than this.

Your throat feels very dry out of sudden. Very, very dry and coarse, as if you’ve eaten sand.

Because…

You take the water bottle from over the table and drink it in one big, big gulp, until the bottle is empty and your shaking fingers crushed the fragile pet bottle.

He already had feelings for someone else.

You get up and take the tray so fast that you almost drop everything.

Your movements are fast as you walk out of the busy dining hall, your heart beating loudly on your ribcage, your breathing irregular and your mind working at 200 km/h.

He already had feelings for someone else.

He told Joy this. He dropped her home and told her the truth. He apologized. He… he said he already had feelings for someone else. Jesus Christ. Your heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s going to stop anytime soon.

He- He-

He might be talking about Yeri, a little, hesitant voice inside your mind whispers. Well… sure. You’ve been suspecting it for a good while. But… after Jungkook dropped Joy home and said this he-

He went to your apartment.

He went to you.

You feel the need to stop walking and lean on the corridor’s wall. The world around you is blurred.

What is this feeling bubbling up in your chest? A feeling so strong that it’s almost spilling over? This thing that makes you open the widest smile you ever opened and makes you want to jump around the corridor like crazy?

He came to me. He came to me. He came to me. He came to me.

He came to me!

But-

But there’s still the Yeri possibility.

You need to know the truth. To hear him say it, and you can’t wait another day - not anymore.

You take your phone from your bag and type with shaking fingers.

[you]: hey

[you]: can we meet today?

[you]: i really need to talk to you

Jeon Jungkook is a simp.

He doesn’t like this word. He thinks it’s annoying how people would call a guy a simp just because he’s treating a girl with minimal decency.

But, like. He’s a simp. He knows he is. He took a long time to admit this, but lately his pride has been already so crushed and stepped on by a particular pair of feet that he can’t even bring himself to feel anything anymore.

Actually, no. He has been feeling like shit for a long time. It’s just the alcohol anesthetizing him right now.

That’s just his second bottle of beer and he already feels kind of dizzy. It’s been a while since he last drank alcohol, that’s probably why his resistance feels weak. He makes a mental reminder to not drink too much. Jungkook knows that he gets really talkative when he’s drunk and he always ends up saying stuff he shouldn’t - and today especially he can’t end up saying stuff he shouldn’t with that guy around.

If he knew Taehyung would be here too, Jungkook wouldn’t have come. Yes, he knows he’s being childish. He knows he’s angry at someone that didn’t do anything wrong, he knows that jealousy is bad, he knows that technically he is wrong because he’s been dicking down the girl that he knew his friend liked. He knows all that, alright?!

Jungkook throws his head back and sighs, passing his hand through his hair. A chilling night breeze touches his cheeks; since the inside of the bar was already full and they were too many, everyone decided to sit on the outside part of the bar. Jungkook hasn’t been paying attention to anything anyone around him was saying and neither was he interested. He thought that coming here would make him forget about the things that have been troubling him, but in the end he’s just thinking more about them.

I could excuse myself and go home. He thought. I have a lot of things to do anyway. I wouldn’t be lying.

He feels a hand rest on his shoulder and looks at Jimin, sitting on a chair by his side. The look on Jimin’s face already says everything. Jungkook sometimes thinks that Jimin has telepathic superpowers; how does he always know what’s going on before anyone even says anything?

“You alright?” Jimin asks in a low tone, careful not to call anyone’s attention. The younger one nods.

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook reassures.

Taehyung laughs loudly from across the table and both of them end up looking at him. Jimin looks back at Jungkook.

Jimin sighs. “You know you can go home if you want to.”

“Yeah.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

Jungkook looks at Jimin and sips a bit more of the beer slowly.

“Yeah.”

Jimin smacks his shoulder and goes back to his previous conversation with Hoseok.

How Jimin always seems to know what’s going on… it annoys Jungkook a lot. He wasn’t supposed to know anything. It’s not like Jungkook told him about his feelings, Jimin just… realized. They were doing grocery shopping one day and Jungkook mentioned how last time he went to Walmart you told him that the diarrhea he had wasn’t because he was lactose intolerant but because the yogurt was expired and then Jimin turned around and simply said:

“You like her, right?”

And Jungkook gasped.

Jimin smirked knowingly and just kept pushing the cart. He said nothing else - but it was as if Jungkook had just confessed his deepest feelings right there.

This happened a little bit after Jungkook and Yeri broke up and kind of made him feel offended. How could Jimin say he liked you? He hadn’t even gotten over Yeri, Jimin knew very well. However, it seems that Jimin is not only a telepath, he can also see the future, because he couldn’t be more right.

If Jungkook’s being honest with himself, some months ago he wasn’t really really sure about what he felt about you. As the “Yeri” scar started to heal he got more aware of his own feelings and actions towards you, but it was hard to sort things out because he was always in denial. That desire to hold you close and hug you and take care of you and not let anyone hurt you anymore? Well, that was just his protective side. You have always been one of his dearest people. Jungkook also knew that he had a little possessive side. He was sure that this feeling would eventually vanish.

Maybe he was also frightened because he knew it wasn’t reciprocal. You never even looked at him in a way that might mean you felt something else for him. He wasn’t going to confess something he wasn’t sure of to someone that definitely didn’t feel anything for him and destroy a life-long friendship.

But oh boy, how things have changed.

They changed the moment you hopped on his lap that night inside his car. Jesus, that first week was hell for Jungkook. He was trying so, so hard to forget the messy drunken memories of his night with you - especially because, the moment he woke up and saw the pure face of terror on your face when you realized what just happened, he thought of how much you regretted that and all of his hopes died right there - the hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could be more than friends.

Yet, he got to taste you again. Two times were all it took to get him addicted.

He couldn’t stop anymore - and it hurt him much more than he would like to admit. He felt that he was being used, even though he let you do it (and he enjoyed it every time, not gonna lie). He felt worthless, he felt angry at himself because he couldn’t stop and because you were so, so fucking stupid, so fucking blind, he felt sad because he watched as your friendship started to slowly die down, and now he feels jealous and guilty because he’s been seeing how Taehyung likes you - how Taehyung even asked him advice to ask you out - and he didn’t stop fucking you anyway.

That day at Joy’s house? It was ridiculous. Jungkook still doesn’t understand what the fuck happened to him, why he felt so angry. Perhaps he was finally getting tired of how dumb you are, how you can’t see what’s right in front of your face.

Just thinking about you hurts now. And Jungkook thinks about you a lot. There he is, surrounded by his friends, where he should be talking and having fun, but he’s too busy thinking about you. In two days he’ll start working for Mr. Choi, his first real job. He should be thinking about it. Not about you.

He can’t stop thinking about your flustered face.

You don’t look flustered that often. Especially not around him.

He thinks this is very intriguing.

What hurt him the most in all this - the thing that made him feel like a piece of shit more than anything - is that he knows you too damn well and he knew that it was never special to you. To you it was just sex, it was just fun; whenever your lips touched you never felt like you were being swept off your feet like he did, whenever you touched him you didn’t feel like just then, in that moment, everything was right - as if the Universe was only created for that specific moment to happen, as if the Universe was expectantly waiting for the moment his fingers ran on your skin freely since the very beginning.

He never felt like this with anyone else. No other pussy has ever made him feel this poetic.

The fact that Jungkook knew you didn’t feel the same was exactly why he couldn’t stop; this would be the closest he’d ever be from you in that sense - and honestly, after he tasted you, he didn’t want to go back to stage one. You were like a drug. You brought him comfort, you brought him bliss. Having sex with you became somehow of a escapist method. But, just like every drug, you started to make him feel sick… so sick that he couldn’t stand to be around you when you weren’t fucking.

He drifted away.

God, he even stupidly tried to move on, but Joy was a foolish try. Jungkook felt bad for using her like this - even though he never even kissed her, he felt that he was fooling her anyway. Going on that date with Joy made everything worse, because he was with that gorgeous, intelligent and lovely girl, but he couldn’t feel anything but fucking empty.

He also realized that you couldn’t be his drug anymore. You deserved much more than that. That’s why he drove all the way to your apartment like a magnet. He preferred to go back to stage one if necessary, if it meant that he could be around you without feeling like a worthless piece of shit anymore.

Of course - things didn’t work out that way.

But that morning- it was different.

Jungkook has to sip more of his beer just thinking about it.

It was different.

It was… quiet, very quiet. Much more quieter than he was used to. And much closer than he ever remembered.

All the times he had sex with you - his body was being pleased, but his soul felt hurt. This time, though, he felt that his whole self was being healed. You didn’t feel like a drug. You felt like a cure.

As if you were connected in somehow of a deeper way.

As if this time, it wasn’t one-sided on his part.

Jungkook can’t stop thinking about it. His pessimistic side tried to convince him that he was being delusional or dramatic (he has this tendency to overthink anyways) and maybe he was, but, again… you don’t usually act flustered, especially not around him. And you’ve been looking flustered around him for quite some now, even before that morning. Sure, your friendship became uncomfortable at some point and he realized that none of you knew how to act around each other anymore, but still…

What about that time you saw a picture of Yeri on his computer?

You looked very, very awkward.

Or how you sometimes seemed bothered when Joy was around. You teased him a lot at that pool party. Jungkook knew you could get kinda kinky sometimes (he knew you liked the thrill of possibly being caught), but that felt like too much even for you.

His pessimistic side once again tried to convince him that he was seeing things. You wouldn’t be acting jealous. You were never jealous of him with any girl. Never. You even encouraged him to be with Joy, right?

What if… what if maybe, just maybe…?

Stop getting your hopes too high, his pessimistic side scolded. You look stupid.

I’ve been looking stupid for a goddamn long time, Jungkook thinks back. His pessimistic side looks back at him with disdain.

Jungkook frowns and looks at the bottle of beer on his hand. This is just regular beer, right? He surely isn’t so drunk that he’s already arguing with himself.

I should probably go home.

Or…

He could go to your home.

You wanted to talk to him earlier today. You looked very hesitant - again, very uncharacteristic of you. It felt like it was something important. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if he knocked on your door unannounced - wait, you never cared. At least when your relationship didn’t involve rough sex. I mean- you didn’t mind not even when you started fucking, to be honest.

Why do I feel so nervous? I’ve never felt nervous over such a stupid thing. I mean, she’s the same dumbass I’ve known my whole life.

You’re probably home doing nothing. That’s also very uncharacteristic of you. Normal you would be at some club or party right now, celebrating the end of the semester. Normal you would probably have tried to drag him along. Or you’d meet some time during the night when you’re both too drunk to be standing and then you’d end up at 5am at the usual Burger King because you’re both hungry, and the Burger King employees would be staring at you both with anger and disgust because you’re both laughing like stupid and talking too loud and they’ve been up all night and can’t stand two drunk costumers this early in the morning.

It sounds nice.

Jungkook remembers that Seulgi and Irene made up, which means that Seulgi most definitely isn’t home.

Which means you positively are home alone.

Home alone, huh.

Jungkook sips more beer.

This sounds nicer.

But, hey, it’s not like he’s being dirty minded (well, at least not entirely). He really wants to know what you wanted to talk about - and suddenly, he doesn’t feel like waiting until tomorrow. Maybe it’s the alcohol (maybe he really shouldn’t finish this beer), but he wants to see your face a lot right now. Your flustered face. And he kinda feels like holding your face with both hands and kissing you very slowly. And he kinda feels like going very very deep inside of-

You know what? Fuck it.

Jungkook puts the bottle over the table and is ready to get up. His excuse is ready. Nobody’s gonna think it’s strange anyway - Jungkook has actual stuff to do.

But he doesn’t have the chance to move when he notices a person approaching the tables where he’s sat.

He freezes.

It’s you.

You’re looking down at your phone before you lift your head and see the group of familiar faces a few meters away from you. You’re alone.

Jungkook’s heart starts to beat furiously inside his chest. A smile unconsciously increases on his lips. What are you doing here? He didn’t know you’d come. He’s also sure that he didn’t tell you which bar he would come to earlier today. Adrenaline rushes through his veins as a hundred ideas run on his mind in those few seconds; did you feel the need to see him as much as he wanted to see you? Did you have the same idea as him? Were you so eager to see him that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow-?

Your eyes finally cross his.

That’s when Jungkook notices something isn’t right.

You look surprised, then a second later you frown, then you slowly widen your eyes.

He knows you too damn well.

You didn’t know he’d be there, too. You’re surprised to see him. And it looks… it looks like you didn’t want to see Jungkook there.

“Y/N!”

A loud, excited, familiar male voice bursts out.

Jungkook watches frozen in place as Taehyung gets up in a swift movement, holds your face with both hands and kisses you.

Taehyung’s lips are warm against yours. They taste like toothpaste and beer.

The kiss is very brief. Taehyung breaks it alway soon, but still holds your face with his hands. He’s smiling widely.

“You're late, missy!" He says happily.

You're frozen in place.

This isn't happening.

"I-" you stutter. It seems that your brain went into complete malfunction. "I, uhm…"

Your eyes travel back to Jungkook.

He's just watching. Not moving a muscle. No.

No no no no no no.

This can't be happening.

Jungkook wasn't supposed to be here. You thought- you thought he was going to celebrate with his classmates, you didn't expect Taehyung would be here too. No, no. Just no.

You see the exact moment his features get as hard as stone. The way he clenches his jaw tight.

You can't breathe.

When you texted Taehyung earlier, you didn’t really like that he told you to meet him at a bar. A bar wasn’t the right place to have this type of conversation - you also felt bad that you’d probably ruin his end-of-semester celebrations - but you agreed anyway because you desperately needed to make things clear with Taehyung before you had that talk with Jungkook. You decided to do this because Jungkook was honest and fair with Joy; you needed to do the same. You left the worst of the impressions when you let Taehyung kiss you that day. You needed to tell him the truth, or else he’d just suffer more - and you couldn’t be a bitch enough to just dump him by text.

But fuck - you didn’t expect Taehyung would fucking kiss you in front of everyone the moment he saw you!

With the corner of your eye, you see Jimin looking from you to Taehyung to Jungkook very fast, his face going pale as he realizes what just happened. No one else notices that something’s wrong.

Jungkook breaks eye contact with you and gets up from his chair. Jimin looks at him, helpless. You know that expression. He’s angry and- and-

Hurt.

You step away from Taehyung, trying to get control over your body again. It feels like pure frost has filled your veins. “T-Taehyung, I…” Your mouth is very dry again. You clear your throat. “C-Can we talk somewhere else?”

You suddenly hate how oblivious Taehyung is and how touchy he is because it’s clear that he’s moving his arm to hold your hand. What the fuck?! We just kissed once, it’s not like we’re dating!

“Sure. Do you wanna get inside? Wanna get a drink?” He asks with the same happy smile.

You’re trying to think of something to say, but again, someone else behind him gets your attention.

“You’re going this early, Jungkook?” Hoseok whines, oblivious to the whole situation. Jungkook is putting his backpack over his shoulder. He’s looking down, jaw still very tight. Not a word said - yet you could see exactly how hurt he was.

“Yeah. I have a lot to do.” He simply says.

“Aw, come on, man!” Taehyung encourages. “You can stay a little longer!”

If Taehyung was a little less oblivious, he would have noticed the death glare sent in his direction.

“I can’t.”

A shiver crawls over your entire body as the death glare is now directed to you.

He’s so, so hurt.

Jungkook’s walking away.

Stop! You want to scream. You got it all wrong! Don’t go!

But you don’t have the chance to stop him, and Jungkook doesn’t have the chance to walk away, and Taehyung doesn’t have the chance to understand what’s going on.

Everyone turns their heads when they hear a boisterous, scandalous laughter, and the sound of someone clapping their hands dramatically.

Now you’re sure that your veins are frosted. You shiver again - yet this time, it’s pure fear.

It’s Mike.

A very, very drunk Mike.

He looks the worst you’ve ever seen him; his clothes are a mess, his hair has grown a lot, and he hasn’t been shaving lately. His eyes are widened, red and maniac. He stumbles as he walks closer, everyone on the table - and the people on the tables around - stopping to look as he still claps ironically.

“Oh, look at what we have here!” he’s loud. Very loud. “So interesting!”

You notice that Jungkook isn’t walking away anymore - in fact, he comes back a few steps, standing closer to you. His body language has changed. Jimin has also gotten up; it seems that Taehyung might be starting to understand what’s going on.

“This is the funniest shit I’ve seen in a looooong time,” Mike continues. God, he’s drooling. This isn’t happening. That’s not possible.

You watch as some guys come closer to Mike and recognize them as his friends. One of them holds Mike’s arm. “Come on, man. Don’t start a scene. It’s not worth it.” He says in a rather low voice, but you can still hear it.

Mike gets off his grip aggressively. “What do you mean? Of course it’s worth it!” Mike looks at you and grins like a madman. You feel another shiver run down your spine. “Hello, Y/N! It’s been a long time! How have you been?!”

“Your friend’s right.” Jungkook speaks up. “Get out of here.”

“Ooooooh,” Mike shakes his hands as if pretending to be scared. “Look who’s here, too! It’s the bestie! Jeon Jungkook, the best friend your girlfriend could ever have!”

Pretty much everyone on the outside part of the bar is paying attention to what’s going on. They whisper between themselves, looking at Mike, you and Jungkook. You feel so embarrassed that you might as well faint. You feel that you should have said something already, but your brain is still malfunctioning.

“Jeon Jungkook, the friend that will want to fuck your girl so bad, but he won’t because he’s a coward!” Mike screams and laughs like a maniac.

Jungkook steps up closer to Mike in a brusque movement, but Jimin’s fast enough to hold him back. At this point, all of his friends have already gotten up from the table, wanting to stop Jungkook from doing anything.

“Shut up, Mike! Let’s go!” Mike’s friends try to stop him as well, trying to drag him away, but even though he’s drunk, he’s still strong enough to stay in place.

“You think I didn’t know, huh, Jungkookie? You think I didn’t know that whenever I was balls deep inside of Y/N you wish it was you? You always wanted to make her scream like a bitch the way I did!”

At this moment, the fear and shame are overwhelmed by anger. Without realizing, you are the one stepping closer, you are the person who Taehyung has to grab the arm in order to stop. “Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch!” You hear yourself yelling.

People on the tables around have gotten up - the noise of many chairs scraping the floor getting louder than the worried voices of the people trying to get away from this mess. You hear someone - a guard from the bar, maybe - threatening to call the police, but you can’t pay attention to him.

“Oh, but that’s exactly what you are! A whore!” Mike yells back. “You got so sad that I cheated on you, but haven’t you been doing the same to me?! You think I didn’t see you two inside the car that night?!”

That night… in the car…

Did he... ?

You freeze again when you see Mike pointing at Taehyung.

“Hm, you’re Taehyung, right? Are you dating her now? Well, be aware of her best friend right here, unless you like sharing your girl! But Jungkook likes leftovers, right, Jungk-?”

He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Jimin isn’t strong enough to stop Jungkook from jumping over and landing a punch on Mike’s nose.

There’s yelling and the sound of tables turning as a whole lot of men try to stop the fight and glasses breaking and Jungkook screaming incomprehensible things as he holds Mike’s collar and punches once, twice, three times, and then Mike’s mouth and nose are bleeding, and Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung are trying to get Jungkook off Mike but it seems that not even the three would be enough to stop him.

You’ve never seen Jungkook so mad. It scares you because Mike is too drunk and can’t defend himself - but you’re not scared for Mike, that fucker can die -, you’re scared of what might happen to Jungkook.

So, when Jimin and the others drag Jungkook away as he still tries to free himself violently, you somehow squeeze yourself between them to hold Jungkook’s arm.

“Jungkook, stop!”

The black-haired man looks at you, his eyes red with rage in a way you’ve never seen before.

You didn’t notice that, in your despair, your eyes filled with tears. This is probably what makes Jungkook stop for a moment.

“Enough! I called the police! Everyone out of the bar!”

A siren can be heard from far.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Jimin yells.

Another mess as everyone grabs their things and to try and run out of the bar - even the people that weren’t involved. You see that Mike hasn’t fainted as his friends grab him out of the bar in a rush.

Jungkook has to get out of here, it’s the only thing on your mind. Jungkook thinks the same apparently, because he’s quick to take his bag from the floor and jump over the bar’s fence to the sidewalk. You assumed that he didn’t drive his way here because he knew he would drink - which means he had to run.

Your only instinct is to follow him.

You jump over the fence too, much more clumsily than him. Jungkook is already running down the street.

As you’re about to follow him, you hear someone call your name.

It’s Taehyung.

He’s standing on the sidewalk as customers run out of the bar. And the look on his face crushes your heart.

I am the worst person in the world.

“Y/N, what he said… is it- is it true?” He asks quietly.

You open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing coherent comes out of it. The guilt rushes with adrenaline through your veins. You knew he would be hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t.

“I-I’m sorry, Taehyung,” is the only thing you can stutter.

You don’t see what face he makes next - both because you can’t take it, and because you’re already turning around and running down the street after Jungkook.

Jungkook is the only thing on your mind.

You can’t let him go away like this.

You run through the busy streets full of bars. As usual, they’re crowded with people. Some of them look at you running like crazy when you pass by, but you can’t stop running because you can still hear the sirens.

Jungkook has some damn long legs. He runs much faster than you and doesn’t even look back. You can barely breathe and your stomach hurts as you unsuccessfully try to catch up to him. You keep running and running and running until you’re on less busier streets, until the bars are left behind and now you’re on a more residential part of the neighbourhood. As Jungkook crosses an almost empty square, you decided that your body can’t take it anymore. You stop gradually, feeling your entire body scream in pain.

“Jungk- Jungkook!” you yell.

The black-haired man finally looks behind his back and sees you; he widens his eyes in surprise and stops.

“Why are you-?”

He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as the sound of the sirens get closer. You immediately start to run again and this time - instead of running in front of you - Jungkook waits until you get closer to grab your hand, forcing you to run faster. You two cross the square and run into a stair alley with houses on both sides. It’s quiet here. Jungkook crouches down behind a big trash bin, making you crouch down as well.

You both make as much silence as possible (considering you’re both panting heavily), both sweating, and wait until the sounds and lights of the police siren go away.

After maybe five minutes Jungkook gets up again, dropping his backpack on the floor. He cleans the sweat on his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt; you rest your hands on your legs, trying to recover your breath. Your stomach hurts as if it has been stabbed. Maybe I should start working out.

You notice that Jungkook’s right hand is hurt; his knuckles are swollen and bleeding a little. He frowns in pain as he analyzes it. “You- you’re hurt.” you stupidly stutter. Jungkook shakes his head.

“It’s nothing.” He says in a low voice. “I said I would beat him up if I saw him…”

Out of instinct you step closer to him, worried, and lift your hands to hold his swollen one.

But Jungkook steps back before you can even touch him. He literally flinched away from you.

It feels like an arrow has just buried itself in your heart.

He’s not looking at you.

“Jungkook-”

“No.” He shakes his head again. He’s breathing heavily as if trying to calm himself down. “Don’t… don’t say anything. Please.”

It’s getting so difficult to breathe. Jungkook puts his hands on each side of his waist, staring at something on the floor - clearly avoiding your pleading gaze.

“But Jungkook, I… you didn’t…” why the hell can’t you speak a coherent sentence anymore? That’s why you followed him all the way. You must make things clear, but seeing his face right now makes you hesitate. Jungkook looks genuinely angry; you’ve never seen him like this, ever.

He throws his head back, looking at the sky, and lets a very dry chuckle past his lips. His expression tells you everything you need to know - he’s tipsy, not entirely drunk.

“You know, I don’t even understand why I’m angry.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or to himself. “There was never anything real happening, right? We were never real.”

You feel yourself choking on your own words. What does he mean?

“Jungkook, you have to listen to me. I just wanted to talk to Taehyung-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Y/N!” He interrupts and finally gazes you back with bloodshot eyes. “We’re fuck buddies, right? It’s just for fun, right? No real feelings involved. It’s not like we’re supposed to care.”

Tears start to make your sight blurred. Each word of his sound more and more bitter, more sad, more hurt, and it feels like someone has buried the arrow in your heart deeper when you realize that his eyes are getting teary, too.

“Stop saying that. You know it’s not true. You’re the person I care about the most in this world-”

“If you start saying how I’m your best friend I’m leaving you right now.”

You frown and blink, trying to dissipate the tears. “B-But it’s true-”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! I’m in love with you! Stop acting like you don’t know that already!”

It feels like your brain and your limbs and your lungs stopped working all at once.

Did he… did he just…?

Jungkook exhales heavily. He looks so tired. He rests his back against the wall in front of you, once again avoiding your gaze.

Something tells you that this should have been a happy moment. Deep down, you feel the pure bliss and excitement and it feels like your heart will combust - because you finally heard the words you wanted to hear the most coming directly from his mouth, you finally understood everything; he felt the same, the fucking same.

Yet, all the happiness is being overwhelmed by worry.

You’re watching him intently. You know the man in front of you better than you know yourself. You’ve never seen this expression before - this mix of anger and hurt have never been directed towards you. You’re scared because you don’t know what it implies.

It’s his breaking point.

He might be giving up on you right now.

You don’t know what to say. For a long moment, you just stare at him as he tries to calm himself down - always avoiding your gaze. It seems that words won’t come out of your mouth no matter how hard you try.

“Since when?” is the only thing you can whisper after a long time.

Jungkook shakes his head and lets yet another lifeless chuckle. “I don’t know.” He says in a low, broken voice.

Your fingers are shaking as you close your hands in tight fists. He needs to hear the truth.

“Jungkook.” Yet again, you hesitantly step closer. Your voice is fragile, pleading. “You got it all wrong. Please, you have to listen to me. Today, I-”

“Yeah, I know I got it all wrong from the start.” He interrupts you again. Shut up!, you want to scream. Let me fucking speak!

However, you can’t speak anymore when you notice the tears dripping down his face.

Jungkook is crying.

It’s your fault.

He passes both hands over his face as quickly as the first tears started to fall and sighs heavily. He takes his bag from the floor and shoves it over his shoulder again, turning around before you can see his face again, before you have the chance to say anything.

“I’m going home. You should go home, too.”

And he starts to walk down the stairs way too fast.

Your body is moving before your mind registers and you try to catch up to him. “Jungkook, wait-”

“Don’t.”

Is the only thing he says without looking back.

This makes you stop.

You watch, frozen in place, as he walks down the stairs. You keep your eyes on him as he crosses the empty square again. He’s almost running.

He wants to get away from you as soon as possible.

You know Jungkook too well. You know that, even if you followed him, even if you insisted, he wouldn’t want to hear you anyway. He’d probably despise you even more. This is what made you freeze.

You suddenly feel your legs get weak and sit down on the stair steps. Not only your legs, actually. All of your limbs feel heavy.

You don’t remember the last time you cried like this. The unstoppable tears just coming and coming and the sobs barely let you breathe.

You’re crying because you’re ashamed of what just happened at the bar - how Mike made you feel humiliated in front of all those people. You’re guilty because you weren’t honest with Taehyung and now there’s no way back - you let him believe in whatever he wanted to believe instead of making things clear, and now he’s hurt.

And the worst of all.

You’ve been hurting Jungkook so bad for so long without realizing. You hurt the person you cared about the most.

All of it is your fault.

God, it hurts so much.

You know Jungkook too well. He’s the person that has been always there with you for better or for worse. You always knew you’d have each other’s backs no matter what happens; he’s a part of you, the most important, most precious part of you.

This time, you genuinely don’t know what will happen from now on.

This time... you don’t know if Jungkook will ever forgive you.

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