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jackson--t · 3 years

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Hate me, adore me.

Part IV

Summary: Ivar is not good with children.

Words: 3.1 k

Warnings: smut, swear words, rude behaviour, a lot of fucks (really).

Tag buddys: @youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace @punkrocknpearls @neverwantedagony @moonlightsspirit

AO3? here.

Ivar liked many things.

He liked to watch his basketball games on TV, along with a cold beer. He loved Game of Thrones with ramen in his bed, all Sunday long when he wasn't on duty. He loved chocolate ice cream, preferably with lots of colorful sprinkles on top - and he loved good sex.

But on this day, Ivar felt reminded once again of all the things that annoyed him terribly and that drove the absolutely annoyed wrinkles on his forehead already at 7 a.m.; it wasn't just Heahmund's know-it-all attitude, once again, when he had forced Ivar to fasten his seat belt while driving; or the fact that he had once again wanted to forbid him to chew gum. Ivar had ironcladly defied the gum rule: because he needed it. He needed it bitterly so as not to get too upset and to keep his mouth closed as best he could, to have something to do so as not to let expletives hail. Because one of the causes of his bad mood was just waddling across the street at super low speed and was caustic and annoying: children.

Ivar had always successfully avoided having to escort the little buggers across the street in the morning until now - but thanks to Heahmund's terrific, terrible effort and his disgusting good nature as Mr. Jesus, he had been forced to ride with Heahmund to the nearest elementary school even before he was actually on duty, and to go on duty as a fucking friend and helper. His mood was in the basement, more than that.

He cast a scowl down at a small, blond girl who was staring at him with wide eyes; she had her mouth slightly open and was still staring at him when Ivar had turned away slightly. When he noticed, he looked at the girl again; the little girl blinked.

"Are you a policeman? You don't look very nice, do you?" the little girl squeaked, and Ivar rolled his eyes. He loved his job because of the guns, because of the violence, because of the "don't give a shit" attitude he could let out to some - but today was a shitty day. And those little green poison dwarfs didn't make it any better.

Ivar stared at the girl for a moment, then let out a deep and annoyed snort. "Nah, I'm a garbage man, you little devil. Move along before I eat you up."

The girl stopped for a moment in shock, and when Ivar took a faked step towards her, she shrieked and ran towards Heahmund, who was standing just a few feet away, directing the children across the street with a broad smile. Urgh, Mister Perfect. Again.

"Ivar!" echoed over to him, and Ivar chewed his gum in annoyance. He threw Heahmund a rough nod, while the older policeman eyed him indignantly.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to scare the kids!" he said reprovingly, turning directly back to the little girl who Ivar had scared earlier with a smile.

Ivar wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He still couldn't decide what made him feel sicker to his stomach: those little buggers, or that the critters worshipped Heahmund so much it almost looked like a scene from the damn Bible.

It seemed worlds between today and yesterday; endless, endless days since he'd had sex with Heahmund, and for the first time experienced a different side of the cop than his haloed nerd side. Ivar bit his lower lip softly at the thought of their "slip" and stared at Heahmund; he hated to admit it, but that encounter had left its mark on Ivar.

Of course, he would never confess it in his life, not even under torture: but he had easily fallen for Heahmund - at least the part that had fucked him mercilessly yesterday. It had been that unbelievably good sex, that passion that had been there between them - and that sheer tension that had existed between them for ages. They were like fire and water, like night and day - but that's what made it exciting for Ivar. He had almost not been able to look at himself in the mirror the next morning, because he had actually jerked off to that memory twice the night after the "accident" - always that perfect body in front of his eyes, that smell that had been on Heahmund's skin, those damn arousing kisses that had given Ivar more than goosebumps.

And yet he hated him, in a way. The way he stood there, bringing those fucked-up kids across the street, with an angelic smile that sent sheer goosebumps of horror across Ivar's skin; he could hardly stand the way the little fuckers looked at the man like he was the next messiah, while they just eyed Ivar like something they were afraid of. Ivar just stared at a fat kid who was eyeing him particularly challengingly as he jutted his chin slightly.

"What do you want, pug face, huh?" he snarled, and it wasn't a second before Heahmund's voice thundered across the street.

"IVAR, damn it! It’s enough!" Oh, Ivar heard the anger from the raspy voice, that little thread of last, polite restraint guaranteed to snap in the patrol car. He looked at Heahmund, unimpressed, and raised an eyebrow; Heahmund's blue eyes had darkened.

"Would be nice if you didn't play godfather to the fucking lambs for once, so we can get out of here," Ivar retorted snottily, while Heahmund snorted.

"Okay, get in the car. And don't use those damn swear words! Kids, don't listen to him. They call him the Grinch at the station." Heahmund deaclred, amused, while he was immersed in soft children's laughter.

Ivar had had enough. He threw his stupid ladle against the sidewalk and lit a cigarette; he walked the few meters to the patrol car and casually leaned against the passenger side. His lungs were burning, so hard he pulled on the cigarette - but he didn't care. Let the fucking Heahmund shut his fucking mouth! Had he possibly imagined that there was more going on there? Had he possibly jerked off twice on him by mistake? Yes. But that was really just a slip. It could hardly be anything else, after all Ivar didn't go for men like Heahmund. Fuck it, whatever his stupid heart said.

It wasn't fifteen minutes before Heahmund appeared at the patrol car with a more than angry expression on his face; he stared at Ivar for a moment, then nodded roughly in the direction of the car. Ivar flicked his cigarette onto a patch of grass and got in; as they sat in the car, their eyes met. For a moment there was a tense silence, during which Ivar calmly chewed his gum so clearly that Heahmund could see it perfectly; only when he leaned back slightly did Heahmund's deep voice murmur at him.

"Did you just throw a lit cigarette on a lawn there?" he asked, and Ivar looked out the window for a moment. He snorted softly before turning to Heahmund again and putting on a soft, overly friendly smile that was hard to beat for sarcasm.

"I don't know, you should check it out. And maybe pick up trash on the side, and you're guaranteed to go to fucking heaven."

Heahmund's brow furrowed slightly; Ivar saw exactly how his hands curled into light fists, but he returned Heahmund's angry look with the still wide grin.

"Ivar, honestly, you're such a fucking asshole, you know that? I really want to punch you in the face right now. You do realize that throwing away burning cigarettes violates environmental regulations, and most importantly, endangers safety?" he hissed, and Ivar shrugged.

Heahmund looked at him for a moment, then actually got up and went outside to properly dispose of the cigarette. Ivar, meanwhile, stared out the window: he looked at Heahmund's butt, at the broad shoulders, at the handsome face that seemed to curse softly. "You fucking nerd, look at you.", Ivar muttered to himself, catching himself biting his lower lip lightly as Heahmund ran his hand through his black hair: one had to hand it to him, he was just damn good looking.

Ivar was still staring at him, too, when Heahmund sat down next to him again and let out a deep sigh; he leaned his head back for a moment, though Ivar was still looking at him. Something tingled inside him.

"You could... hmm... you could punish me really bad under Section 17b, don't you think? You fucking nerd.", Ivar hummed softly; as Heahmund's blue eyes locked on him, he grinned slightly. And his body was bathed in sheer goosebumps when Heahmund finally turned the ignition key and snorted softly. Ivar knew he was taking him up on his offer when they drove into an area where there were almost no buildings - except abandoned factories. It was almost too good, the tingle that shot through his bones when Heahmund finally parked; and before the older cop could open his mouth and lecture again about any regulations, Ivar's hands had cupped around his face and he was kissing the older man, who, underneath all the hatred and dislike, also inspired terrible and urgent lust in him.

He couldn't even last two minutes in his own seat and had quickly sat down wide-legged on Heahmund's lap. The older cop emitted a slight gasp, almost barely audible, as Ivar's hands dug through his clothes, fumbling with the belt of his pants.

"You're insatiable. And a monster.", Heahmund groaned out between two biting kisses; his hand had long since made its way to Ivar's bulletproof vest, undoing the Velcro and pushing the soft shirt up under Ivar's vest. Ivar loved those warm, rough hands on his torso, and he let Heahmund feel it clearly with a soft moan. His fingers ran desirously urging along Heahmund's zipper on his pants, feeling the thick bulge in them that he was particularly lusting after. Fuck, he was so fucking hot for this guy it was almost embarrassing.

"No foreplay, you greedy grinch? Fuck, Ivar... at least with a condom this time!", Heahmund murmured softly, even though Ivar's hands were already pushing and softly rushing into his pants. When he had the thick and already hard cock in his hand, Ivar exhaled for a moment; he closed his eyes and pressed himself against Heahmund's torso before hissing softly, "Tell me, are you somehow only getting horny when you have protection? You want to maybe leave that fucking vest on during sex too, nerd?"

As Ivar intensified his movements on Heahmund's cock, Heahmund's pelvis clearly moved upward; Ivar sensed him looking at him and opened his eyes.

"Would it turn you on?" Heahmund murmured breathlessly; Ivar opened his lips breathlessly, moving his warm hand tighter and tighter around Heahmund's cock. He loved how the trained cop grew harder and harder, how wet drops of pleasure appeared on his tip, which Ivar easily wiped away with a slight gasp and a nimble movement with his thumb; Heahmund moaned, but they were still looking at each other.

The corners of Ivar's mouth lifted slightly, then he grunted. "Fuck, yeah."

"I knew it. Harder." Heahmund moaned, pulling Ivar's neck closer, covering his neck with warm, smooth, slightly biting kisses as Ivar's hand continued steadily. His own erection was pressing like mad against his pants, and Ivar was so incredibly hot for Heahmund that he didn't take any time. After all, a damn stake could flutter in at any moment.

He unzipped his own pants to the slight groan of Heahmund, pulling them down somewhat awkwardly along with his boxers to the point where he could still practically sit well on top of Heahmund; his body was covered in goosebumps as he watched Heahmund spit into his own hand in one fluid motion, wetting his hard cock with it. Ivar grinned slightly; he wet two of his fingers before sliding them into his entrance with a slightly awkward motion, widening it slightly; the sound that came from Heahmund sent pure pleasure through his body. The two looked at each other.

"Fuck, Ivar. You're such a fucking beast, I swear I'll fuck the hell out of you already."

"Oh, come on - you're into it. You probably only had 0815 cunts that looked pretty but had nothing on them."

Ivar almost whimpered when Heahmund abruptly stopped him from his movements; his fingers slipped out and he was pulled onto Heahmund's lap with a firm and strong grip; he placed himself over Heahmund's cock, moaning slightly as he looked into the dark-haired man's eyes.

"Then let's see how good you can ride, gutter boy!" Heahmund groaned; Ivar's fingers clawed brutally at Heahmund's chin, holding it up as he gently lowered his pelvis and let Heahmund's hard cock slide carefully inside him; he did it deliberately slowly, letting that rock-hard muscle stretch him open gently, loving the way Heahmund's mouth opened slightly, the way his fingers clawed harder into the flesh of his hips.

"Fuck, Ivar!" he moaned darkly, and Ivar jerked his chin up again that had turned shallowly towards his chest - those blue eyes staring at him full of fire.

"Don't call me that! You fucking bastard." Ivar hissed; he whimpered softly as he felt himself sink to the base on Heahmund; they were both breathing heavily, and Ivar pulled Heahmund's face closer to him, pulling the older cop into a biting, hard kiss before slowly moving up and down.

Fuck, damn. It hadn't been enough that Heahmund had been an absolute grenade in bed the last time, no - his cock just seemed made for Ivar's core. It was perfect in thickness, and even more perfect in length, that it was already softly grazing the soft bundle of nerves inside Ivar with every deep movement Ivar made on it. Ivar swallowed audibly and clawed at the back of Heahmund's neck; he loved feeling the pressure of Heahmund's hands on his body, loved the fucking vest he was still wearing, which only further vocalized his fucking nerdiness, which seduced Ivar beyond belief. His movements became steadier, more violent, and he became more and more breathless.

Oh man, this was going to end in an orgasmic disaster. Heahmund was just too good.

They kissed breathlessly, and Heahmund's hands slid up to Ivar's waist; they closed warmly around the arches of his ribs, supporting him in the movements that were becoming more fluid and deeper, even as they took away Ivar's breath. His belly was pleasantly filled with warmth, so full of feeling.

"We can...fuck, Ivar!- ...we could maybe discuss the punishment thing over an evening...dinner. Fuck, you're killing me," Heahmund cursed, and Ivar threw his head back slightly.

He knew he wouldn't last long - but he would definitely not get ahead of Heahmund this time. He knew too many tricks in this position for that. He smiled softly as he let his entrance twitch slightly around the thick cock; it drove a moan from Heahmund's lips.

"Is that a fucking date, Heahmund?" Ivar exhaled, clawing harder at the base of Heahmund's black hair on the back of his neck. The older cop underneath him groaned, and his hands at his waist twitched. Ivar repeated the motions twice before Heahmund threw his head back slightly in his seat.

"Is...no, this is an...on-duty...fuck!... meeting”. Heahmund's voice grew harsher, thirstier, Ivar heard it clearly. It turned him on so much that he himself had to be beastly careful not to come right on top of that hard cock thrusting into his prostate at the perfect angle over and over again; but he was too proud. He held out for a little while longer. But the thought that Heahmund had just asked him for a private meeting chased even more lust into his body.

He was hot, so damn hot inside.

"Sure, you weirdo." Ivar hummed with pleasure, soaking in the taste of another kiss that Heahmund breathlessly gave him; his hands weren't letting go now, and the cop's pelvis thrusting from below was getting a little faster. When their lips parted, Heahmund opened his eyes slightly, seeking Ivar's gaze.

"Fuck, I think I..." he groaned, and Ivar moaned.

"You're coming, aren't you? Come on, you know I want you to...", Ivar breathed against those fucking delicious lips, stealing a breathless kiss before watching Heahmund's eyes close with a powerful wave of heat in his body.

"Fuck, I'm coming..." the cop moaned so harshly that Ivar moaned softly; he clawed at Heahmund's body as tightly as he could, wrapping his heated arms tightly around the body, almost amazed, manically turned on, at how quickly it made Heahmund come, that simple touch.

The man groaned a dark moan right at Ivar's sensitive collarbone, deep and rough as he came jerking inside Ivar. Ivar continued to ride him, riding him hard and demanding until he too felt the violent crashing peak of his orgasm: the wave of pleasure crashed over him so brutally that he had to stop his riding movements to avoid losing control completely. Just like the first time, this orgasm tore out something deep inside Ivar, gave him everything he needed, nourished him with so much love and lust that he almost choked on it.

The windows were fogged the hell up when Ivar broke away from Heahmund after what felt like an eternity; they were able to wipe away the mess they'd both made just fine, because of course the nerdy Heahmund had good tissues with him; Ivar grunted quietly and had to grin a little wryly when Heahmund had to spend a long time wiping at a stain on his black vest, with a quiet, annoyed snort.

"You can tell it's gravy," Ivar said, earning a nasty look from Heahmund after he luckily managed to remove the stain just fine; when Ivar was back in his seat and, to Heahmund's satisfaction, even buckled up for once, Heahmund looked over at him. The two looked at each other, and then Heahmund smiled slightly.

It was a beautiful smile, one that Ivar hadn't seen from him before, and one that made him feel sick in a different way than he did on the road today. As if suddenly, there was something in his belly that fluttered around like crazy and made him almost happy inside. Disgustingly happy.

"I was serious about the... dinner." Heahmund said; the blue eyes sparkled slightly, and Ivar grinned a little wider. He couldn't go soft now, no way - Heahmund couldn't score points everywhere with his nerdy, gentlemanly behavior, after all. "Maybe we'll get along better someday. Get to know each other better." the dark-haired man added, and Ivar turned his head slightly so that Heahmund wouldn't see him blush slightly on his cheeks. He popped a new piece of gum into his mouth and winked.

"Shut up and drive, you miserable nerd. You won't get the Nobel Peace Prize for polishing, too."

But his heart had already said yes, and he also knew, without looking over, that Heahmund knew, too.

#vikings #ff #fanfiction #cops #ivar the boneless #heahmund #heavar #ivar x heahmund

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

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Typical Stark

Request: Enemies to lovers prompt for Tony Stark by @agustdowney Hope you like this one babe ;))

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, sass, fluff.

Word count: 1400ish oops?!

Fall Prompts Masterlist

Tony Stark Taglist - @raspberrymama @ladyeliot @boop-le-snoot @make-a-memory-drink-it-up @loveisallyouneed1125 @ownsmyheart @anthonyjanthony666 @downeyreads

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @marvelgirl7 @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub

Tags are open! Send in an ask or DM if you wish to be in any of the taglists ;))

…

“Would you hurry up?” you whispered, looking around the room to make sure the guards hadn’t returned, gun at the ready in your vest, just in case.

“Why? You got a hot date?” Tony asked, not really wanting to know the answer, just a natural retort that escaped while his fingers flew over the keyboard in front of him as he retrieved data from the computer and backed it up on his drive.

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Aww why? You know how interested I am in your sex life.” His snarky comeback making you clench your fists to stop yourself from slapping that smirk off of his face.

“Would you just—why don’t you hurry up so we can be on our separate ways? I have no intentions of fighting with you.” you huffed, not missing Tony’s shrug.

Why did Rogers send the two of you for this mission? Sure you were in an unknown city, which Tony just ‘happened’ to be in. The man could have handled it all by himself with all the gadgets he kept boasting about, but no, the Captain seemed to have sensed the hostility between the two of you and wanted the dynamic to be more amicable. Somewhere deep down you wanted the same, but given how he got your goat on every occasion, it was hard to say the least.

“All done Miss (Y/L/N). Let’s get outta here.” Tony spun around to face you, waiting for you to take the lead, you were covering for him today after all.

The guards were easy to dodge but apparently one of the cameras wasn’t, and Stark got in its range of vision, triggering the alarm and alerting the entire building. It didn’t take long for heavy footsteps to sound through the floors as heavily armed men ran in search of the imposters.

“Goddamn it Stark! We had this.” You cursed, running up the fire exit towards the rooftop hoping for a quick escape as Tony tailed behind, already winded from the climb.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings for a place to hide, at least jump into while Tony typed something on his watch. Six men burst through the doors and fired in your direction as you dodged every bullet before firing from your own shotgun, bringing two of them down successfully as your bullet hit them in their kneecaps. A few moments later, a swooshing sound pierced the air as you saw Tony’s Mark XIV flew down and enveloped Tony’s form in a fashion that temporarily managed to halt the ongoing combat.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a fucking suit?” you yelled as he blasted the remainder of men with his repulsors before walking over to you and taking off the ground, leaving you to grab onto his neck over the armor like a rescued ‘damsel’. You kept yelling and he kept ignoring and in turn, neither of you noticed a man firing a small device onto the suit with precision that stuck on just in time before the building went out of sight.

“I think we’re about to crash –” you managed to scream before Tony’s suit gave out and sent the two of you plummeting down towards the gravel covered road. He somehow maneuvered the fall so that he landed on his back and held you tightly against him, protecting you as the impact made the suit fall apart in pieces around him while you screamed before the hit knocked the wind from your chest.

Your eyes opened gingerly, unsure if you two had made it alive before Tony’s rapidly rising and falling chest reaffirmed you that you had. His grip on you hadn’t budged, the metal embrace now replaced with a shirt covered one.

“Tony?”

“Yeah all good. Are you hurt?” His voice came out muffled due to the still intact faceplate as you managed to roll off of him, Tony glanced at his watch that was smashed to pieces before removing the plate manually, revealing a bloody nose and a cut to his forehead.

Your ribs smarted as you stood up dusting the dirt off your clothes, your gun missing and arms sporting small cuts and bruises. Once the initial shock wore off, your anger resurfaced and began storming away from Tony while he was too busy getting his bearings to notice.

“Hey! What about my suit? It’s offline..I-I need to get it-” he called out but you cut him off after turning around fuming.

“That’s your lookout Stark. You didn’t even think to tell me you had a suit on standby. This whole fucking operation was a waste of my time. You could’ve just done it all by yourself but no here you are behaving like a typical Stark.”

You muttered the rest of the walk, not caring if Tony was actually listening, which of course he was, he hadn’t seen such a strong reaction from you ever. A part of him was amused but most of him was afraid so he decided to follow quietly. Looking back every so often to make sure no one was on their tail.

“Um..Where are we going?” Tony tried after a few breaths when your rage-filled stomping was replaced with a brisk walk.

Silence.

You came across an empty woodshed shortly after, that would have to suffice by the time you called for backup. Making yourself comfortable in a dusty corner after sending your location details to Natasha you glanced sideways to see what your ‘teammate’ was up to.

Tony was pacing about fidgeting and muttering something to himself just outside the woodshed.

“Would it kill you to sit still for a moment?”

“Oh we’re speaking now?”

“Never mind.”

Rolling your eyes, you slammed your head back to the wall of the shed with too much force as it resulted in tears springing into your eyes. Clenching them shut you prayed the team would extract you as quickly as possible because it was starting to get dark outside.

“I’m sorry (Y/L/N)” Tony whispered, his voice meek enough for anyone to miss but thanks to your super sharp hearing, you caught the unexpected apology.

“Definitely hearing things.” You muttered, eyes still closed.

“I just—I said I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have put you in unnecessary danger. I fucked up.”

“I’m very much capable of defending myself against any danger Stark. What you should have done is taken care of this operation all by yourself since you had your fancy toys.”

“I always have backup in any operat—“

“Then why the fuck was I called for this mission?” You yelled, finally looking at the man who looked like he’d just been scolded, eyes cast downward, shoulders sagged and mouth opening and closing without any actual words coming out.

“I insisted you accompany me today. I—I’ve always admired your combat skills, you’re quite a remarkable woman.” Tony’s admission left you speechless, you hadn’t expected this answer at all.

“You’ve ‘admired’ my combat skills?”

“That’s what I said.” Tony muttered, avoiding eye contact.

You didn’t know if it was the exhaustion finally setting in or the situation but you laughed, shaking your head at a realization unknown to present company.

Typical Stark

“You really have a thing for women in power don’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Why else would you hire Natasha as your hot-shot secretary all those years ago? Insist I accompany you today? Why are you with the great Pepper Potts then!”

That little disdain in your voice over the last one wasn’t unnoticed by Tony.

“Well you’re right about the first two.”

“What?”

“Pepper and I aren’t together.” Tony stated, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why, she got tired of having a relationship with Dum-E instead of you?” You regretted saying this the minute it left your lips because Tony’s eyes met yours with a look of heartbreak that had you internally curse yourself.

“Bingo.”

“I—I’m sorry Tony, that was unnecessary. I didn’t mean to—”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, resuming his pacing as the silence stretched longer.

“Well if you ever need to talk, or a drinking buddy.”

You waved your hand towards him offering him a small smile in hopes that he’d consider your attempts of making nice.

He chuckled giving you a curt nod, still a little embarrassed about his confession, but internally deciding which bottle of whiskey to crack open later today at the tower if you’d join.

Typical Stark.

I have a fluffy smutty Part 2 in mind already!

#tony stark x reader #tony stark oneshot #tony stark imagine #tony x you #tony stark fanfiction #iron man x reader #iron man fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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lalainajanes · 3 years

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For klarosummerbingo, my “mango lassi” square! Did I order Indian food for dinner? Yes, yes I did.

Masks Off

When she notices the goon tailing her – shaved head, seasonally inappropriate leather jacket, neck tattoos – Caroline’s pissed off.

And exhausted.

She’d spent all day cooped up in the boardroom at Forbes Industries, listening to men twice her age complain about dividends and try to suggest that workers didn’t really need a raise subtly.

It had been a tedious and pointless exercise, one she suffers quarterly. Caroline holds 51% of the company’s shares and can easily wrangle another block of shareholders into voting with her. Her parent’s wills, read out fourteen years ago, had bequeathed a stake in FI to several loyal employees. People they’d loved, who’d stepped in to help raise Caroline after they’d passed.

The board knows she has the final say, and it kills them. They think she’s an idiot, that she’d bought her degrees and can’t comprehend the financial statements. They try to ply her with compliments and flattery, attempt unsubtle fibs – Caroline plays dumb and tolerates the bullshit because she knows she can control them. Another board might not be so easy to manipulate.

She’d had a headache by the time the meeting had wrapped, had been so grateful to see Enzo waiting at the curb. She’d practically dived into the backseat of the town car, had rolled the partition down, and enjoyed a satisfying debrief and bitch session on the drive back to her apartment. Enzo had offered to grab her dinner before he went off the clock, but Caroline knew he had a date night planned. She’d shoed him away, told him she’d order in.

Once safely tucked away in her place Caroline had gotten restless.

She’d changed out of her boring suit, pulled out the pins in her hair, and loosely braided it back. After changing into a pale blue cotton dress and pair of oversized sunglasses, then selecting a few Forbes Industries prototypes, Caroline had headed out for sustenance.

She hadn’t bothered to let her security detail know. She’s adept at sneaking away under their noses. The detail is mostly for show, to make sure no one connects Caroline Forbes, wild child heiress, to the vigilante who’s working on tidying up the city streets.

She’ll slip into the leather ensemble she’d commissioned once night falls and load up with weapons. Then she’ll head to the garage where she keeps her armored vehicles and larger toys.

There’s a new villain who’s been popping up more and more frequently on her patrols. She hasn’t caught him doing anything untoward just yet, and he’s yet to make the papers and have a ridiculous name bestowed upon him. She’s scoured papers from England, then the rest of Europe, checking to see if there was a reputation that preceded him. So far, she’s found nothing, but Caroline knows he must be working on something big.

Why else would he be so determined to attract her attention? He must have some kind of plan cooking up, wants her looking in another direction when he enacts it.

The walk to the restaurant had been uneventful. Caroline had to wait a few minutes for her order to be ready, but passing the time on a bench outside, unnoticed, her people-watching undisturbed, had been a nice change from how she’d spent the rest of the day.

It promised to be a hot evening, even though the sun would be setting shortly. Sweat had begun gathering near her hairline, forcing curls out of her braid. Caroline had added a mango lassi to her order and collected her dinner, inhaled appreciatively at the warm, spicy scent emanating from the paper bag.

She’d begun her walk home, sipping her drink contentedly, weaving through the growing number of pedestrians who were venturing out for the evening.

She’d noted the guy shadowing her about three blocks from her building, had heaved a dramatic sigh that had the guy waiting for the walk light with her edging away.

She’d just wanted to stuff herself with naan, biryani, and saag paneer and become one with her couch for a few hours before she went out to take out her frustrations on some bad guys. Was that too much to ask?

Caroline takes a turn, heading east to where there should be fewer people, reaching into her bag to slide her fingers into the modified brass knuckles (not actually brass but a proprietary FI compound) and grasping the extendable baton.

She takes another turn to check that she’s not paranoid, but the goon mirrors it.

As does another person.

Caroline pretends to adjust the strap of her dress, twisting her head to get a better look at her second pursuer. It’s an impressively muscular woman, her considerable height only enhanced by her spiked hair, dressed in skin-tight shorts and a mesh crop top.

She doesn’t seem to mind that Caroline’s spotted her, wiggling her fingers and offering a challenging smile.

There are two possibilities. Either the people following her are cocky and stupid – really the ideal scenario – or they’re cocky because they’ve got a solid plan and some big guns.

When a hand grabs her upper arm and yanks her into an alley, spilling the mango lassi and staining her dress, Caroline suspects it might be the latter. She’s thrown against a wall, just managing to get her hands up to save her face from being smashed into the brick.

She hears footsteps pounding against concrete, and the two pursuers she’s noticed join the man who’d yanked her into the alley. Regretfully, Caroline drops her takeout and her bag and backs away, hiding her weapons in the folds out of the skirt. She forces a quaver into her voice, “What do you want?”

It’s unlikely that three people who seem to have stepped right out of the goon for hire catalog have just decided to rob her. Caroline doesn’t want to assume there’s a larger plot. She’s hoping this won’t turn into a big thing, and she’s out of luck if people are planning to kidnap Caroline Forbes for ransom.

But it’ll be even messier if a bad guy’s clocked her extracurricular activities.

The spiky-haired woman takes the lead, stalking towards Caroline. She’s got a knife in her hand now, “What do I want? Twenty million dollars, to start with.”

Oh good. It’s just a kidnapping.

Honestly, kind of an insulting one. She won’t even have to liquate any assets to come up with the twenty million. Caroline stops moving, straightens her spine. “Done!” she chirps brightly. “Wire transfer, or cheque? I can do cash too, but that’s like ten briefcases. What are you going to do with them after?”

She’s been hoping to catch her attempted kidnapper off guard, but the woman doesn’t falter. She snorts, “You’re funny. I didn’t expect that.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot. I’m chock full of surprises.”

Spike lunges forward, and Caroline dodges, stepping past her and whipping her arm out, until her weapon lengthens fully. She crouches, extending her leg and spinning while slashing with her baton. Caroline lands a brutal strike on Spike’s kidneys. Spikes grunts, stumbles forward, arm banding over her stomach protectively. Caroline completes her spin and rises, catching Spike with a punch before she pauses, poised on the balls of her feet, back to a wall.

Her would-be kidnappers no longer look as confident. Spikes spits blood, expression enraged. The other two watch Caroline with calculative gazes.

“Girls gotta keep in shape, right? The tabloids are brutal. It turns out the elliptical is super boring, so I had to find something a little more fun.” Caroline leaps forward, tucking into a roll, snagging a brick from the ground and using her momentum to throw it into Leather Jacket’s face.

The brick makes contact with a gross crunch of blood, bone, tissue, and teeth. Leather Jacket howls, his hand coming up to cover his head. She jumps again, thighs locking around his neck, spinning to bring him to the ground. She digs her knee into his spine, gripping his head and slamming it into the ground for good measure until he goes limp underneath her.

Caroline stands, wiping her hand on her already ruined dress. “One down,” she says.

Only to instantly regret the proclamation. Bonnie says she needs to lay off on the monologuing, and maybe she’s got a point.

She senses movement behind her, near the mouth of the alley. Caroline turns warily, head swiveling between her two attackers and the men who are now freaking rappelling from the rooftops. Six of them. In black tactical gear, strapped with weapons and wearing black ski masks.

Well, crap.

If she’d been on patrol, with her protective suit and gadgets, she might have been able to take them. Now, in flats and a sundress, with two flimsy weapons and no backup, she doesn’t like her odds.

Caroline tosses the baton aside, pastes on the smile she uses when she has to ignore paparazzi shouting rude questions about her sex life at her. She lifts her hands slowly, palms open. “So, I’m guessing you don’t only want cash, huh?”

“Funny and smart,” Spikes says spitefully, coming up behind Caroline and yanking her hair. “What a rosy life you must lead.”

She feels a sharp sting in the side of her neck, then a flood of wooziness. Brief pain when she collapses.

She’s vaguely aware of being heaved up and over someone’s shoulder, of being alarmed by how her limbs won’t cooperate when she tries to fight back. She’s tossed in a trunk, encased in blackness.

Caroline fights it, the tiredness, her thoughts growing meandering and disorganized. When the engine rumbles to life underneath her, Caroline loses consciousness.

* * * * *

Caroline realizes she’s tied to a chair as soon as awareness returns.

She can hear voices murmuring, too soft for her to make out any words even when she strains. Caroline’s slumped over, pulling against the ropes. She’s definitely going to have some fun bruises tomorrow. Her head’s resting limply against her chest, and she stays as still as she can, barely opening her eyes while trying to get a good look at her surroundings.

Unfortunately, she seems to be in a pretty generic warehouse—grimy, smelly, cavernous, decorated with random overlapping graffiti.

She spots a tray of shiny, sharp medical instruments to her right.

Which is not ideal.

Caroline tests her bonds slowly, checking for any give or weakness. Any kind of opportunity. One of her captors has eagle eyes and notices her movements. She flinches when his voice booms out, “Sleeping beauty awakes!”

Damn it.

Caroline lifts her head, rolling her neck to work out the cramp that’s developed. “I prefer the modern Disney princesses, thank you.” She’s not the type to wait around for a handsome prince to come to her rescue.

She studies the guy who’d spoken. He’s got steel-grey hair and tanned skin, thick biceps. His face doesn’t show even a hint of emotion, and he doesn’t acknowledge she’d spoken. She’d guess he’s a pro, probably some variety of ex-military, likely expensive. Caroline hears the clomp of heavy boots and twists her head to see some familiar faces joining the party.

Moderately damaged familiar faces, but she’s not sorry about that.

“So about that ransom,” Caroline begins hopefully. “Twenty-five million, was it?”

The guy who’d taken a brick to the face grunts, “Thirty now. For our trouble.”

Caroline can admit that’s fair.

“I get it. Plastic surgery’s not cheap. Not that I’ve had any work done, despite what the tabloids might claim. I’m only twenty-seven. Of course my boobs look fantastic in a bikini.”

No one even cracks a smile.

“Okay, so you’re not interested in jokes. We could discuss the fact that it’s super gross that people follow me around the world and stalk me with long-lens cameras. Am I not entitled to take a vacation?”

No response.

Caroline sighs, shifting in her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Tough crowd.”

Spike drags a second chair over, sitting down and resting a booted foot on her opposite knee. “Thirty million dollars. I have a list of six prisoners that I need to be released from the Super Max. And I want something from the Forbes Industries Vault. The subterranean one that most of your employees don’t know about.”

Caroline tips her head back, considering. Thirty million dollars, no big deal. The prisoners might be hard to arrange, but she’s got connections. She knows exactly who she’d need to bribe. She can always scoop them up later, wrap ‘em in a pretty little bow and leave them on the steps of city hall.

The Vault though? That’s not happening. She’s going to have to figure out how they even know about it, who else might have bought the info, but that’s a problem for later.

“How about fifty million dollars and a couple of extra prisoners? Maybe someone from the asylum?”

Spike leans over, her hand drifting over the tray of instruments. She plucks up one with a serrated edge, twirling it through her fingers. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting everything your little heart desires, but this isn’t a negotiation.”

She leans forward, resting the blade against the dip between Caroline’s collarbones. She taps it against Caroline’s skin with each carefully enunciated word, “Money. Prisoners. Vault.” She pulls back, gives the instrument another spin. “That’s my only offer. You can say yes, and we’ll give you a phone, so you’re servants can start arranging things. Or, we can do this the hard way.”

She doesn’t insult Caroline’s intelligence by spelling out what the hard way would entail.

Caroline swallows, straightens her spine. “No one gets in my vault.”

Spike sighs in faux disappointment, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “The hard way it is, then.”

Caroline closes her eyes, holds her breath, waits for the first cut to come.

It doesn’t come from where she’d expected.

Glass shatters from high above, showering down, leaving dozens of tiny nicks across her bare shoulders. She feels a rush of air before a body landing in front of her, knees bent.

A familiar man, one who’s been taking up way too much of Caroline’s free time, smirks at her, “Hello, love.”

Caroline gapes at him, and he pivots, backing up until her bent knees brush the back of his calves. She sees few bright flashes, but his back obscures her view of what’s happening. Whatever he’s doing, it’s painfully loud. Popping sounds interrupt shouts and screams of pain, and heavy thuds ring out. Caroline cringes, tucking her ear against her shoulder in an attempt to muffle the cacophony.

Silence, when it comes, scant moments after the chaos began, is jarring. Caroline leans as far to the side as she can, eyes widening when she spots the pile of bodies. She watches as the man, who she doesn’t know if she can call her rescuer since at this point he might also be planning on ransoming her, yanks a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket.

He moves swiftly and with grace, seemingly very at home his body and aware of its capabilities. Caroline’s eyes narrow, mind whirling as he secures her attackers, and she tries to assimilate this new information. He pulls off his leather gloves when he’s done, returning to her side. His expression grows regretful, and his fingertips brush her shoulders, skimming over the cuts and scrapes there. “Sorry about these. The skylight was the best entry point. Make sure you clean them up, hmm?”

He steps passed her, and Caroline feels him make quick work of her handcuffs. She hears the snick of a knife unsheathing and stiffens, but he only uses it on the ropes that bind her legs and torso. Caroline shakes them off, stands hesitantly.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and turning until they’re once more face to face, separated by the metal chair. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not yet ready for you to know my identity. In due time, I promise.”

Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, her teeth grinding together. “Um, how about no?”

He blinks, and Caroline steps a little closer. They’ve always met in the dark, and he’d purposely stuck to the shadows as he’d teased and tossed questions at her. She’s never been this close to him. His eyes are blue, his lashes annoyingly long in a way men never appropriately appreciate. He wears a black mask, covering from the top of his forehead to his upper lip. His hair is slicked back, but she thinks it might be on the lighter side, given the shade of his stubble.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight, but he doesn’t step back or shy away. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I have had a garbage day. It was long, it was boring, I had to argue over things I know I’m right about, with people who think I’m a bimbo and spend way too much time trying to look down my tops. My dinner got tossed aside when goons r us scooped me up. I love this dress, and it’s ruined. I’m bleeding. I don’t know where my shoes are. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go home!” she’s shouting when she’s done ranting, out of breath.

“Right.” Her rescuer, she’s decided on the term now, shoves the chair aside. He steps forward until his feet bracket hers, wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline grips his biceps, too shocked to admonish this rude invasion of her space. “Hold on. Step up onto my feet.”

She throws her hands up in frustration, “Hello? Did anything I just said sink in?”

His lips, which she’s now noticing are very nice, full and soft looking, compress. She’s pretty sure he’s trying to swallow a laugh. “I heard every word. I’m trying to assist in getting you home. In service of that, if you could please step up onto my feet and hold on.”

His right arm rises, and Caroline recognizes the device in his hand. She’s about to ask him if he’s seriously rescuing her with a device he’d stolen from her but thinks better of it.

He’d stolen the grappling hook from a vigilante who rocks a rose pink leather catsuit, not from Caroline Forbes. It would have been a monster slip, a true testament to how rattled she is from the day’s events that she’d almost blurted out her secret identity to a guy with questionable motives and an unknown name.

Instead, she smiles tightly, loops her arms around his neck, and gingerly steps onto his heavy boots. “For future reference,” she says sweetly, “I generally only like following orders in the bedroom.”

The strangled choking noise he makes as they hurtle upward is immensely satisfying.

* * * * *

Two days later, Caroline’s on her couch watching news footage of a gala she’d been supposed to attend. She’d had a great dress, red and scandalous, all ready to go, but trying to cover her scabby shoulders with makeup had made her look like she’d contracted some kind of infectious skin issue.

She’d sent her regrets and a fat check, resigned herself to a solo evening in her comfy sweats. On her TV, a society reporter’s chattering away about the guest she’d just finished talking to, a lech who’s at least smart enough to hire a publicist good enough to hide his dealings with loan sharks. She trails off in the middle of a sentence, fingertips coming up to press at her earpiece.

The reporter looks right at the camera, excitement on her face. “I’ve just been given some breaking news! A surprise guest has arrived, all the way from the UK. Klaus Mikaelson has shied away from public life since his messy exit from his father’s corporation five years ago. He’s built his own tech firm from the ground up. Buzz had been building since they announced their intention to go public. Let’s see if we can get a few words.”

Bored with the fawning, Caroline’s just about to switch channels. She knows all about Klaus’ Mikaelson’s company. Blurbs about it have been showing up in the intelligence reports she has complied since he’d lured a pair of promising engineers from FI’s Paris offices.

She’s planning on investing in his IPO because he might have scummy HR policies, but his business is sound.

There haven’t been many pictures of him available; apparently, he’d hardly been a social butterfly even when he’d been welcome in the family fold. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or so in the ones Caroline’s seen, in which he’d been gangly and angular and sporting a terrible haircut.

The image changes, swinging to the red carpet before Caroline can grab the remote. She pauses, impressed because Klaus Mikaelson has grown up nicely. She might be distracted by the flawless fit of his tux, which Caroline knows can cover a world of sins, so she leans closer as the camera pans up to his face.

And promptly drops her wine class.

The blue eyes. That smile, the dimple it carves into his stubbled cheek. She’d brushed her lips over that cheek barely more than forty-eight hours ago when she’d thanked him for what he’d done for her.

Klaus Mikaelson had accompanied her home the other night, had neatly deflected her probing questions, his amusement never turning to exasperation at Caroline’s dogged persistence.

She’d seriously considered inviting him into her home. She’d told herself it was only in search of more information, but a tiny part of her, the one that was unfailingly honest and sometimes gets her in trouble, had admitted her rescuer intrigued her, even without a name.

Well. Now she has one. A plan forms rapidly, and Caroline scrambles for her phone, digging it out of her couch cushions. She taps the screen, connecting a call to Bonnie. “Bon? Sorry to bug you when you’re off the clock. But I need you to find someone for me.”

She stands, walking into her bedroom as she explains what she needs.

Bonnie’s a genius, well worth the exorbitant salary Caroline pays her. She gets the address within an hour.

* * * * *

Caroline drops a rope onto the terrace of Klaus’ apartment, slips down with barely a whisper of sound, landing lightly. She hugs the side of the building, inching over to the open French doors. She’s fully suited up, hair tightly controlled, and mask on. She eases her foot over the threshold, eyes darting around.

Ugh, of course, he has excellent taste.

Caroline likes light and airy, fun patterns and textures. But she can appreciate the sumptuousness of Klaus’ living room. It’s done up in burgundies and neutrals, hints of gold. There’s a buttery leather sofa facing a fireplace, thick carpets that muffle the sounds of her boots as she walks further in. She can imagine a pleasant night in front of a crackling fire, curled up on the couch when the weather turns cold.

But she’s getting ahead of herself.

Her nose twitches, picking up the smell of curry, cardamom, and turmeric.

She hears a door click shut, whirls to find Klaus, barefoot and still dressed up from The Gala, though he’s ditched the jacket and tie. He leans against the now-closed doors to the terrace. He smiles at her warmly, “Hello, Caroline.”

Which answers one of her most pressing questions.

Caroline yanks her mask off, tossing it aside. “I realize this is going to give you déjà vu, but what exactly is happening here?”

Klaus pushes off from the door, ambles towards her, studying her reaction carefully. Caroline doesn’t flinch away or retreat. “I have a proposition for you. And I have dinner. Takeaway from that place you visited the other day when your evening plans were… interrupted. I even got the mango lassi.”

Caroline narrows her eyes, “I have weapons, you know. Way more than you’d think, given how tight this outfit is.”

He laughs, a low husky sound that Caroline knows would be easy to get addicted to. “I’m sure you do. I’m not worried about you using them on me. I only want you to hear out my proposal. You can leave anytime you wish.”

She wonders if it’s stupid to believe him, but she does. He’d had the upper hand two days ago, had no trouble dispatching the group that had taken her. If he had nefarious intentions, he could have picked up right where they left off with the torture.

Caroline’s learned to trust her instincts. They’re telling her she’s safe.

She tugs her hair out of its elastic, loosens her collar slightly, pulling the zipper down a few inches. “Mind lending me something to wear? This totally isn’t designed for sitting for long periods.”

Klaus directs her to a guestroom, gathers a few things of his for her to wear. When she gets to the dining room, she finds he’s arranged the food on gleaming platters and lit candles. Her mango lassi, in its plastic cup, looks wildly out of place.

Caroline refuses to find it endearing.

At least until she’s confirmed that her instincts are correct.

#klaroline #klarosummerbingo #klaroline fanfiction #batman vibes #but where the author is only aware of batman because it's a ubiquitous pop culture thing #so maybe bad batman vibes idk

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xbaepsae · 3 years

Text

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can’t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.11)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Eleven) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 4,360 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior

Part Ten || Part Twelve || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“I… just got involved with some guys and it got… weird,” you told your friend, Asa. You were playing with your pasta, moving it around your plate with your fork. The two of you were having lunch at one of the cheaper Italian restaurants near your grandparent’s house in their suburb. But it was damn good food; you had filled up on soup and calamari before your main course had even arrived.

“’Some guys’?” Asa pressed.

You met her eyes and said, “I got involved with a lot of guys if we wanna be accurate. Too many. But yeah, there are two specifically that I am—WAS seeing. Exclusively.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to be embarrassed about that. Fuck, I would do it if given the opportunity. You know I would. You were making bank,” Asa told you and you cracked a smile at her support. She took a bite of her food and pointed her fork at you, “Okay but… two? Exclusive? Did they know about each other?”

“Yeah… they did,” you admitted. “It was part of the deal.”

“Hmm,” Asa murmured. “You were getting dicked twice over and I can’t even find one.” You laughed, picking up a forkful of pasta and taking a bite. It was too good; you ignored your full feeling. “But, weird how?”

“One of their wives walked in on me fucking them – in my apartment, that they paid for, by the way – and punched me,” you told her bluntly. Asa rose her brows, stalling her chewing. She swallowed slowly and you muttered, “Yeah.”

“Oh, that kind of weird. I’m totally familiar with that. You know, in those situations, what I would normally do….” she trailed off because she started to laugh and you followed her lead, feeling the tension slowly leaving you. She reached across the table and grasped your hand. “I’m sorry. Is that what…” she gestured at your face and you nodded. She breathed in relief. “Not that it’s any better but when you said you got involved with two guys, I was thinking… you know, the worst. But fuck. You getting socked because they were cheating? That’s some bullshit.”

Another mouthful and you mumbled, “That’s what I thought. And they were acting like I was overreacting by being upset about it.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I wish I was.” You shifted in your seat and sighed heavily. “I… never mind.”

“What?” Asa pressed.

“I just think they were… using me as a replacement for their own marriages.”

“Well, yeah…” Asa said slowly.

“You don’t get it,” you exasperated, and she closed her mouth, paying attention. You shrugged sharply, “I mean, they would come over and do things with me. Like… cuddling on the couch, napping together on the couch. Watching TV shows. Buying pets together. Just talk to me as I cooked dinner. It was… intimate. Like something they were missing from their relationship that wasn’t just sex. Does that make sense?”

“I mean… yes?” Asa answered. “Look, that happens all the time. People catch feelings. Even when you’re not supposed to.”

“This was a definite not supposed to.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Catch feelings?”

You shoved a forkful of food in your mouth, staring down at your plate.

“So, you did. And you only left cause the wife?” Asa asked seriously.

“Look, I don’t like that I like them,” you said meeting her eyes again and she cocked her head curiously. “They’re not the type of men to ‘catch feelings’ for. And there’s a lot of… complications to them having those feelings of attachment to me. They’re not nobodies. Celebrity status if we are going to be frank and that status gives them a lot of power. They might not have hit me but they sure as hell locked me in that apartment because they know no one can stop them from doing it.”

Asa was staring at you from across the table in shock.

“So, I don’t like that I started to like them because they were nice a lot of the time and did me… a lot of favors for my betterment. But I wanted to get away from the situation after that last fucking issue because they obviously have a lot of problems going on at home. I didn’t want to get drug into it any further.”

Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments before Asa told you gently, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’ll get over it. We are going out for drinks tonight, so I’ll be able to drown my feelings in that rum.”

Asa laughed and said, “Always the rum.”

<><><>

“She’s not in there,” Daryl said coming back to the SUV, climbing back into the passenger seat in the front. Tony, Steve, and a handful of other men were in the back of the SUV, Terrence driving. “I circled the house and could not see her in any of the windows. So, I went to the front door and her grandma answered and I asked her about Y/N, telling her I was looking for her because we were supposed to meet up tonight. The old woman is way too trusting. She told me she was down at this bar called Unicorn?”

Steve pulled his phone out, googling it.

“Looks like it’s two stories. That should be a fun hunt.”

Tony and Steve had both refrained from texting her or calling. That was not their style. If she ran off and was not contacting them, then that was only compounding on top of the transgression. There was no way they were going to reach out and try to build a bridge; she had already burned it. If she called or texted, of course they would answer. But that was on her. She was the one that had made the stupid decision to leave them, and she was going to pay for it in full.

<><><>

“Would you look at that,” Terrence chuckled.

The group of six men had found a booth against the wall on the first floor. The place was packed, the line to the bar ridiculously long but they were not there for drinks. They were there to collect their prize.

“What?” Tony asked, sighing. He was already annoyed to high heaven about having to be in this dive of a club.

“She’s right there,” Terrence said which caught everyone’s attention immediately.

Terrence pointed Y/N out, waiting in line at the bar with another woman, almost to the front. Fishnets underneath high-rise shorts barely covering her ass, a black plain top, and thigh high black boots.

A guy came up behind her, much to everyone else’s annoyance in line and wound his arm up before smacking her ass super hard. As she jolted forward, Tony was already halfway out of his seat, Steve’s hand shooting out to stop him.

Y/N whipped around and glared before her grimace fell recognizing him and the guy burst out laughing. She slapped him in the chest and started laughing too. She leaned forward and took the straws from his drink into her mouth, sucking.

“Must know him…” Daryl said.

They got to the front and Y/N and the other girl leaned on the bar, smiling flirtatiously at the bartender. The friend ordered and the bartender cocked his eyebrow. She said something else, and he looked at the guy behind them, who waved. The bartender nodded before going to line up six shot glasses.

The friend handed over her cash and they picked up the shots between themselves, the guy having finished his drink, leaving it on the counter which the bartender took. They made their way back through the crowd towards the stairs to the bottom floor.

“Guess we are moving,” Steve told Tony. He looked at the other four and said, “You lot stay here up here.”

<><><>

Dragging Mia back from the pinball machine and a guy she had been flirting with, you sat her at the table. She whined the whole time and you told her after the shots she could go back but she needed to take the drinks with you guys because you had been gone for so long. She scolded you for guilt tripping her.

Plopping down in your seat, your eyes happened to scan the bar. Your breath froze seeing Tony and Steve staring at you from across the room, sitting along the wall on a couple of stools. If looks could kill, you would be stabbed on the spot. Even in the moving lights you could see the anger painted on their expressions.

They had not tried to contact you at all. You had taken that as a sign as they had accepted you backing out of the relationship. But they had traveled here, tracked you down. That sent the complete opposite message of accepting it.

Forcing yourself to look away back at the table, your friend Mia shoved one of the shot glasses to you. You tried to keep your breath steady, trying to not look worried.

“Here we go, Y/N,” Asa told you, winking from across the table as she held up her shot glass. “Down the hatch goes third. And fourth for me and Joel. But third for you two.”

“Yeah, we are not idiots. We pace ourselves,” Mia retorted. “Plus there’s a dude over there and I wanna be sober enough to possibly get some tonight.”

You were definitely going to need this shot after having seen them and knowing you were definitely in some deep, deep shit. Maybe you should have gotten a second shot. Hindsight was 20/20.

The four of you took the single shots, before Joel and Asa took their second ones. Joel’s eyes closed and he breathed deeply. “That was rough.”

“Maybe you should’ve spaced them out?” Asa teased, completely unbothered by hers.

“Fuck off,” Joel laughed, taking a swig of his water.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you told them over the music.

“Oh, me too!” Asa said, hopping up before you could stop her.

Your mouth fell open, trying to protest but she was already gesturing for you to take her hand. You shot a look over at Tony and Steve, seeing they were still very much keeping a glare pointed at you.

She yanked you up from the table, you stumbling in your boots. She held you around the waist, shimmying with you away from the table to the beat of the music – a song you actually liked, “No Other Way” by SHAED–, laughing joyfully as she held you close.

“Let’s go make some friends in the bathroom!” she exclaimed.

That caught you off guard and you actually laughed. “Isn’t that how it always is?”

You hoped to god that Tony and Steve did not approach your friends at the table or think that you were trying to escape out a back door or something. You worried there were other men there – actually, you knew they had other men there. They would not be here alone. You shot another look over your shoulder as Asa danced with you, catching their gaze again before you disappeared into the crowd towards the bathrooms.

You went first to the stalls, pretending to go so you were able to ditch her. Feeling guilty, you left the bathroom, pushing your way through the crowd.

They were still waiting at the table, their eyes fixed on you as you approached.

You stood in front of them, throwing your hands out, and you asked afraid, “What are you doing here? I left the key. I didn’t take anything.”

Steve cocked his head and turned his gaze to Tony, who had not taken his eyes off of you. More burning into you now than before at what you had said.

Tony blinked, finally looking away from you to look at Steve, giving a light laugh. A laugh laced with contempt at that.

“’Didn’t take anything’,” Steve repeated, matching Tony’s humorless chuckle.

You did not like the way they were toying with you. Forcibly, you told them, “I didn’t. I swear.”

Steve’s arm lashed out, his hand wrapping around your wrist in the blink of an eye, yanking you to him. You were pressed in between his legs and he made sure to squeeze to keep you in place. His expression was murderous.

“Y/N… you are an asset. So, you did take something. An unbelievably valuable thing.” You tried to pry your arm away from him and he only squeezed harder, and you gasped. He was far too strong, his grip crushing.

“I know we didn’t tell you because it seemed… irrelevant?” Steve said, searching for the right word. “But, sweetheart, you belong to us. Just like you belonged to Tatiana.”

“I…” you stammered, confused.

“We bought out your contract. Actually, paid her even more than what was owed. And along with other things, you now have all that indebted to us. So, when I say that you are an asset, you understand what I mean now, correct?”

You felt sick, your gaze falling. You had gone to Tatiana thinking that she was releasing you from the contract when she let you run off. Or what you thought was letting you run off… that she had forgiven your debt. But that was not the case at all. You had fucked up without even knowing it. You had crossed them, and it was not a surprise they had come to get you on top of everything else you had explained to Asa earlier this same day.

Steve grasped you underneath your chin to force you to look up at him. His tone was firm, low, “What’s going to happen is you’re going to go and collect your clothes because I’m guessing there’s some cute shorts and bras in there that I like seeing you in considering the amount of clothes you took with you when you stole away.” His fingers dug in and you winced at that, his eyes flashing at the mention of you leaving again. “I know you got scared but that doesn’t excuse what you did. You have a mountain to climb to be in our good graces again but trust me, the reward will be more than enough if you show some good behavior up front by not putting up a fight. Your grandpa’s medicine can be paid for.” You stared at him in shock, and he chuckled, “Yeah, we looked into that ailment. Tony can get that pretty fucking easily. What a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”

That was digging a bigger debt to them, but it was for your grandpa. And it was not like you could run away from this.

Thickly, you told him, “I understand.”

Steve let go of your chin and his thighs loosened on you. “Go say goodbye to your friends.”

<><><>

“I can do it by myself,” you said from in between the two of them when they pulled into the driveway.

You already spotted your grandma sitting on the front porch on her swing seat. It was already eleven o’clock but she was a night owl, especially loving sitting outside and reading her books after your grandpa had gone to bed. You sorrowfully thought that you wished you had spent more time reading to him this afternoon since you were going to avoid waking him up now to say goodbye.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Steve told you stiffly.

You bit your cheeks to hold back an argument, regretting yet another thing, wishing that you had not gone out tonight. But the scene at the club could have happened here and maybe that should be silver lining. Having time alone to pack up and say goodbye to your grandma was better than the alternative.

She noticed you walking up the stairs and she put her book down. “You’re back early.” You could not help but snort and she smiled in return. “I wasn’t expecting you back until probably early morning. If you are anything like I was in my youth and I know you are.” She furrowed her brow and asked, “Where’s your purse?”

You had left it in the car. Sighing, you stopped in front of her. “I gotta pack my stuff up and go.”

“Wait, why?” she asked hurt.

You sat down on the seat next to her and said, “Something came up.”

“Y/N, you’ve only been home for a couple days,” she protested. “We haven’t seen you in so long.”

Grasping her hand, you said, “I… it’s important. Not that you guys aren’t, of course. But it’s urgent. It’s something with work.”

“What could be so pressing there?” she asked you confused. She looked back at the SUV in the driveway, narrowing her eyes seeing Terrence and Daryl in the front seats. “Who are they?”

“Um, they work for my bosses,” you said in explanation. “They’re going to drive me.”

She cocked an eyebrow and asked, “You get to have drivers…? What kind of restaurant owners have drivers on hand?”

You heard car doors close, and you looked up alarm. That was nowhere near even three minutes. You got up quickly and moved towards the stairs to try to stop them from coming up the sidewalk to the porch. Steve and Tony were coming up the cement and you stopped in the center of the walkway defensively.

“That wasn’t—” you started to say but Tony cut in forcibly.

“Just wanted to make sure it didn’t take longer than fifteen because it looked like things were going to get dragged out. Why don’t you walk back with us and introduce us to your grandma before you go inside and get your things?”

He was not asking. Sucking your teeth, you turned around pissed off. You had wanted to do it alone and not have them involved.

She was watching you curiously from the other end of the porch as you walked back up with the two of them. You made to go towards the door, but Tony reached out, grasping your arm tightly, in warning. You stopped and turned towards her by the screen door. You just wanted to get this over with and get out of here without them talking to her.

“My friends are gonna help me pack, grandma.”

“Grandma…?” Steve asked expectantly.

“Margaret.”

“Pleased to meet you, Margaret,” Steve said politely. He walked over to her, holding out his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

Tony did the same, introducing himself. She was looking up at them in awe.

“Wait…” your grandma said, looking between the two of them. “You… you’re Avengers.”

“Sure are,” Tony beamed before he walked back over towards you by the door. He gave you a little nudge towards the door and you took a step before you heard the excitement in your grandma’s voice.

“Iron Man and Captain America. Oh, no wonder the two of you have drivers!”

She had paid very close attention to them after the attack in NYC since you had been there when it happened, and she had been terrified for you. She had become a fan that they had saved the city and essentially you as a byproduct.

“She works for us,” Steve told her, flashing his million-dollar smile.

“Oh?” your grandma asked confused, shooting you a look past him. You had told her you were waitressing, and she was no doubt wondering how that fit into working for them. “Do you own the restaurant then?”

Steve looked over his shoulder at you, a cruel glint in his eye. “A restaurant?”

“Yes. Where she’s waitressing,” your grandma continued. “She said it is a high-end place on the upper east side. Not that I know what that means. I have no knowledge of the city but I’m assuming it’s an affluent neighborhood?”

Steve licked his lips, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you. You gave him a pleading look to just go with it, to just lie. Yes, he owned a restaurant. Just say it.

“You wanna tell her what you really do for a living?” Steve challenged much to your horror.

They wanted to humiliate you. And you thought dreadfully, to the point that you might possibly never be able to face coming back here again to look your grandma in the face.

“No,” you snapped instantly.

Steve turned fully towards you, looking dangerous all of a sudden. Just like he had the first day in the apartment when you had told him to fuck off. He stalked up to you, glowering down at you, his back to your grandma.

“You wanna rephrase that?” he breathed lightly, knowing she would not be able to hear him.

You felt anxiety flooding in your chest. “Don’t…” you warbled.

“Own it. Say it, Y/N.”

Tony was at your back, Steve in front, holding you in place. You were not going to escape this.

“I’m your whore,” you rasped in a voice barely above a whisper, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Now, now, watch your language in front of your grandmother,” Tony scolded in a murmur from behind you. “We have nicer words than that don’t we?”

You cleared your throat and said louder so she could actually hear, “I’m your… assistant.” Steve cocked his head, his eyes narrowing threateningly. He was not going to let this go and you wanted to sock him in the face. Your voice shaking, you said, “Fine. Courtesan. I am your courtesan.”

“Hmm, yeah that’s a good word for it,” Tony praised you quietly.

Steve looked satisfied and shrugged, “I don’t know what was so hard about saying that.” He turned back to your grandma, shrugging again.

Your cheeks burned with shame at your grandma’s expression when you stole a look. Her whole demeanor had changed seeing how theirs had when you told them no and learning what you actually did, hearing it from your own lips. Your eyes were watering then, wanting to crawl into a hole and just die from the embarrassment.

“I don’t like when people lie and especially to their elders in their family. It’s quite rude,” Steve explained to your grandma, who was blanched now, all wonderstruck she had had for him a moment before gone. “Speaking of rude, I do apologize for the short visit and I have to admit that is our fault. We have a trip planned and it was supposed to be a surprise for Y/N but she left before we could go on it, let alone tell her about it. And we do need to be hitting the road.”

Tony added, “I need to use the restroom before we go. May I, Margaret?”

Swallowing sharply, your grandma said weakly, “Yes, of course. Go ahead.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” Tony told her. To you, he asked, “You can show me where it’s at, right?” You nodded and he gestured for you to start walking. Steve told the two of you he would be in the car. Tony nodded in acknowledgment and as he passed, he asked your grandma, “Do you want me to grab you anything to drink while we are inside?”

“Oh, no. I’m quite alright.”

Following behind you closely, Tony kept at your back you walked through the house. Tears spilled over, devastated that they had not just stayed in the car. And thinking now your grandma probably despised you. You wanted to turn around and slap Tony across the face just like his wife had done.

You stopped outside the bathroom, wiping sloppily at your cheeks to get the tears off, and told him, “It’s there.”

“Where are you going to be, love?” he asked, taking in your face, seeing the tears. You pointed at the guest bedroom and he said, “Stay in there until I’m done. Don’t go anywhere.”

Tearfully, you turned back towards the guest bedroom and went to work gathering up your clothes you had tossed around the chair your suitcase was sitting in front of.

Tony took your suitcase from you and walked out of the house. “I’ll take this to the car. Goodnight, Margaret.”

She said nothing, watching you coming up to her timidly.

“Why?” was the first thing she rasped out to you.

“I…” you said, stammering. Your lip warbled and you gave a shuddered breath trying to keep control. “It started as protection as first… from an abusive ex.”

“Doesn’t look like much of an upgrade,” she said sadly, her eyes glossy now too seeing how distraught you were.

“I know it doesn’t look like it. But it is. Trust me,” you said, a few tears escaping, and you wiped at them. “Seriously… trust me on that.” You exhaled sharply and shook your hands, trying to shake off the emotions. “I’m gonna be fine. I promise. I’m sorry I lied to you. Really.”

She did not say anything for a few moments before she asked quietly, “They are very powerful, aren’t they? I mean, they are superheroes.”

“Yes.”

“Seems that quote about Lincoln was right. About testing a man’s character by giving him power. Apparently it’s for the ages.”

You choked out a laugh, caught off guard by her quip. She was still as sharp as she always was; able to read a situation for what it was. She knew how big the power imbalance was between you and them. Essentially anyone and them.

She reached out, holding your hand, holding it tightly. “I’m not mad at you for lying. And I’m happy you came back home for the time you did. You can always call me. Do you understand that?” You nodded and she let your hand go. “Go. I’ll tell your grandpa there was an emergency.”

“Thank you. I love you,” you told her leaning down to give her a tight hug. You did not want to let go.

“I love you too,” she told you, giving you an extra tight squeeze in return.

Pulling away, you turned away from her, not wanting to look back afraid that you would just run back to the chair and curl up there. You instead stared ahead at the SUV to where the door was waiting open for you to hand yourself back over.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #my shit

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace ) Jungkook x OC

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Author’s Note : This isn’t a chapter update. Just a snippet of how they met ;)

Two Years Ago ~ How they met.

“So, first day at work?” My sister gave me a bright, vibrant grin as she watched me shimmy into my slacks , struggling to yank the skin tight fabric up my legs.

I was half tempted to just choose something a little less form fitting but, Jung Hoseok, my soon to be boss was a hot piece of ass and I wanted to make an impression.

The kind of impression that would end in me , under him , horizontally. And him well, inside me preferably. God , he looked so hot in those fitted suits of his , dark hair falling into his face . That sharp as a blade jawline and that beautiful damn smile. He was so humble and friendly, which meant that he had a gorgeous daddy dick and knew exactly how to use it.

My sister, so attuned to my thinking , read my mind like a book.

“Don’t even think about sleeping with your boss again. That's how you got fired the last time remember?” She said sharply.

I rolled my eyes.

“I quit. Because he lied about being divorced. There’s a difference.”

“Still Hobi is a stickler for rules , don’t do anything stupid.” She warned.

I grinned a bit.

My perfect, holier than thou sister would never understand the thrill of good sex, I thought . And one look at Hoseok told me that he had bomb dick game. And men didn’t really care about rules when they saw my ass in this particular pair of pants. It was a theory tested and proven.

“Its not stupid to want to ride a gorgeous man into the sunset. It’s the only fairytale ending I believe in “ I said loftily.

“Well, I’m only looking out for you , Areum. I am incredibly proud of you for landing this job. Jeon Inc., is one of the biggest conglomerates in our country. You did well.” She looked annoyingly bright and cheerful for someone who had actually got up at the ass crack of dawn to make me breakfast and had then driven half way across Seoul to deliver it at my apartment.

I loved her with my whole entire heart but my sister had a tendency to sometimes treat me like I was still five years old.

Which I loved, most of the time.

But not when I was already running late for the first day of work.

“unnie, i love you but you need to go suck Seokjin’s dick and leave me alone.” I grinned wide at her and she turned an alarming shade of red.

“Areum!!!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you’ve familiarized yourself with all the Office policies, right?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes at me and I groaned.

“Yes.” i muttered, morose.

“Yes?”

“Yes sir.” I groaned. God, he made me want to kneel down and suck his dick but also made me want to knee him in said dick, at the same damn time.

“Especially the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office and the dress code.”

I gritted my teeth.

Ugh, no amount of daddy dick was worth putting up with being talked to like an errant school girl ,

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, we have a well stocked wardrobe department in the fifth floor. I would suggest you go change into a more suitable pair of work pants “ He waved his hand, dismissing me and I turned around, trudging back to my desk.

So much for nailing the boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was a little awed that the company had a bunch of things for the employees . Things I’d never heard of before. There was an actual ‘nap’ room where you could take a twenty five minute nap , once a day. A wardrobe department for when you needed to change your clothes and a whole garden out in the terrace for team meetings that were informal.

Apparently, the entire set up had been designed by the younger Jeon kid, Jeon Jungkook. The whole thing was patented in his name and he was also a super talented digital artist, evident in the bazillion gorgeous murals mounted all over the office, all of them signed with a beautifully scripted “JK”.

I hadn’t met him yet but he was apparently incredibly smart, incredibly handsome and also the biggest man-whore in the entirety of Seoul.

Which fair enough. i didn’t begrudge good men the right to pussy. And if he was getting so much of it, he was probably good at what he did. That was cool.

What wasn’t cool, was him apparently leaving his cum stained fucking pants in the closet in the Women’s section . The same closet i had dug into five minutes ago looking for appropriate clothes , only to have my hands met with a damp, sticky white mess that clung to my fingers like ...well like cum.

“What the fuck....!!!” I screeched in disbelief, stumbling back and landing hard on my ass, shaking my hand in despair like that could get rid of the grossly disgusting mess that now coated my digits.

Completely out of it, I wiped the mess on my blouse of all thing, realizing a split second too late , what a bad idea that was.

“Oh, gross!!” I sobbed out in disbelief .

“You alright, angel?”

The words came from right behind me and i whirled around, surprised.

I got the wind knocked out of me as i stared at the fine , fine specimen standing in front of me. ‘

it was a face that looked like it was straight out of the most luxurious fashion magazines in the world. Beautiful ebony black hair that fell into deep, almond shaped doe eyes. Eyes that fairly glittered with mischief. He had a nice strong nose and a beautifully red pair of lips , quirked up in a wide smile.

“You alright?” His voice was perfect, not too deep but with a masculine cadence to it.

He was completely shirtless, grinning like it was going out of style, as he pulled on pants over his gloriously muscled thighs. I watched him carefully tuck his underwear in, before buttoning the pair of jeans up.

He was tall, just a little shy of six feet and had the body of Adonis, with broad shoulders, beautiful pecs and drool worthy abs that tapered to a ridiculously tiny waist.

I stared down at my hands and his eyes followed mine.

“Oh, my bad. I thought that was the closet for the used clothes.” He grinned unrepentant.

it took me a second to realize that it was his cum.

I was covered in his cum.

“What?!” I hissed in disbelief , staring at him in pure horror.

He held his hands up.

“This is not my fault. The girl told me she’d swallow every drop of it and then choked half way through-”

“Oh my fucking God...” I groaned in disgust.

“Although I’m not complaining now... Wouldn’t have met you if it weren’t for her... What’s your name, pretty?”

I stared at him, slightly slack jawed.

What kind of a man whore-

I froze.

No way. It can’t be.

“Jeon Jung Kook.” I said drily.

His eyes widened.

“Well now you have the advantage ....i don’t know your name.” He pouted.

“You should be in a cage.” I snapped, turning back to grab the nearest skirt. I moved to leave but he stepped in my way, blocking the path with both hands held up.

“What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Jungkook chuckled.

“Come on baby..Don’t be mad.. Its just a little bit of cum. Granted you did not get the pleasure of getting it out of me yourself but that can easily be remedied if you just-”

“You will not have a dick to cum out of , if you don’t move right now.” i warned him.

Jugkook’s eyes widened at that.

“Um... you do realize who I am?” He smirked.

“A man whore with bad taste in hook-ups? A girl who can’t even swallow? Really Jeon, how desperate were you ?” I smiled.

His eyes danced at that.

“ Not as desperate as I am now.... Go out with me.”

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not happening. Get out of my way.”

Jungkook let out an actual groan at that but he moved aside nonetheless.

“What??..come on, please , angel, just one date.....”

I shook my head.

“ I’ll send you the bill for my dry cleaning Jeon.” I flipped him off before stalking right out of the room.

“Gonna make you fall in love with me, new girl.” He called out from behind me.

I scoffed at that.

Yeah right.

Author’s Note : I had to write their first meeting okay???? I’ll update tomorrow or the day after .

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@taesgalore

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut #bts au

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dirty-urie · 3 years

Text

McBrendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

Unspecified Era

Smut Oneshot

NC-17

3.2k Words

Warnings in order of appearance: RPF, language throughout, not pre-discussed roleplay scene, medical roleplay and language, sex

Author's Notes:

So, basically, I was re-watching Grey's Anatomy, and I was like, "What if Brendon was here?" and then this was born. I have no idea if someone who's never watched Grey's Anatomy would understand or appreciate this, but basically what I think you need to know is that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan are sexy manwhores (in the earier seasons), and a common recurring joke in the earlier seasons of the show is putting "Mc" in front of adjectives to describe love interests. The fic is supposed to be more silly than sexy, but maybe it's sexy too, I don't really know.

"Wait, what about those two?" He asks, and you sigh exasperatedly.

"Brendon, just assume that all of the doctors on the Doctor Sex Show have slept together. That's the whole point."

He groans and slumps back in his chair, "Remind me why we have to watch this overdramatic doctor smut in the theater? The theater should be a sacred space for Disney movies or action movies with boobies and explosions, not 'ohhhh does McCreamy only like Natalie because she hooked up with Appendectomy?.'"

"It's my week on laundry duty, and whoever's folding laundry gets to watch whatever they want wherever they want. That's the rules, but you can go watch something in the living room or on your computer or on your phone if you don't like it," you offer, trying to get rid of him. You love Brendon, you love him so much, but sometimes you need to sit in the dark and fold laundry with no other noises except your soapy little doctor show.

"Fine. The men of the house are going to go watch something manly, don't bother us. Come on, Bogart!"

Brendon's little Jack Russell turns to look at you as if asking to stay, but you pat his back and send him off to go snuggle with his dad. You don't think you could handle Brendon's betrayed gasps if you let Bogart finish the episode with you. You and Penny will be fine ogling at Patrick Dempsey while file-folding Brendon's 68 pairs of gray and black sweatpants alone. Brendon kisses your cheek before he leaves. "Have fun with the boobs and explosions, babe," you tell him on his way out of the room.

"Oh, you know I will!"

•••

Two weeks later, it's your turn to fold laundry again, and you're back to watching Grey's, this time in the living room. The dogs are sitting next to you, eyes glued to the screen. Brendon's also in the room, bitching about "introducing this drivel into our home," but you're ignoring him because you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.

He finally quiets down, and you appreciate the five minutes of peace. Until… "Are you unsatisfied with our sex life?" He asks out of the blue.

You're taken completely aback for a second before you scramble to pause the tv. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what? Where did this come from?" you ask him. What the fuck? Is he unsatisfied with your sex life?

"Well, we haven't had sex in weeks practically." Three days actually. It's been three days, but you don't interrupt him. "And you keep watching this sexy doctor show, so I don't know, maybe you're feeling like a bored housewife," Brendon explains.

You laugh at him, and he looks offended. "You're overthinking it, baby boy. It's just a show! Sure, the sexual tension between the entire hospital and Mark Sloan is spicy and exciting, but I'm not trying to compensate for anything lacking in my life. If anything, all that spice just translates into better sex for both of us. Okay?"

He looks very skeptical. "Hm, sure. I totally believe you."

You don't necessarily think you properly got your point across to him, but Meredith just made another bad decision, and you need to see how it pans out. "Okay, great, now go watch a manly show with Bogs in our room if you're going to keep whining."

Brendon does not, in fact, go into your room to watch a manly show on his laptop. Instead, he and Bogart start watching season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, immediately getting highly invested in the lives of the ambitious-yet-messy surgical interns. He's trying to figure out what exactly appeals to you about the show.

•••

It's his turn to fold the clothes, and he's doing it wrong, but you're resisting the urge to do it for him because you're a feminist, damnit. He's still letting you watch Grey's Anatomy because he's a doll (and you don't know this, but he's also become a bit of a fan.)

"Do you think I'm more a Mark Sloan or a Derek Shepherd?" He asks.

You scoff, "You're a George."

"I am not! I'm way sexier than George!"

"You're just jealous because I'm an Addison."

"Pshh, you're a Bailey. You wanna know how I know?" He asks.

"Fine. Tell me." You give in.

"You desperately want to correct my laundry technique."

•••

"Meet me in the on-call room in five," Brendon whispers against the back of your neck while you're drying the dishes from dinner. What is this man doing? "Meet you where?" You ask, but he's already walked away. You're not sure whether to actually wait the five minutes or just try to go find him.

You give him three minutes before going to the bedroom. You honestly don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't Brendon laying on his side in the middle of your bed, shirtless under a white coat. He has on a pair of navy blue scrub pants that aren't particularly flattering, but they still look nice on him.

"Explain to me what's happening here, homie," you tell him.

"I'm being sexy for you! So sexy! I'm Dr. Brendon "McKinky" Urie, I'm a general surgery attending, but my real specialty is pleasure."

You visibly cringe for him. "You're a McDoofus, and your real specialty is probably malpractice."

He pouts. "Play along. Come on. Please? Be Dr. Y/N Sexy."

You roll your eyes. "Why do you get your real last name, but I'm Dr. Sexy?"

"Because we're not married in this fantasy! We're both cheating on our spouses but not in a tragic way, in a sexy way! Come on! Let yourself have fun," he pleads.

You feel yourself start to cave. "Fine, I'll play along, but I'm stopping this the minute I feel weird, okay?"

"Of course. And, babe, if you don't want to do this, you absolutely do not have to," he says, serious now.

"No, no, Brendon. I'm down for this. I think you're a total goof for doing it, but I trust you."

He brightens, "Great! Now it's time for your examination." He waggles his eyebrows, climbing off the bed and gesturing for you to take his place.

"Exam? Am I a patient? Why am I in the on-call room if I'm a patient?" You ask.

"Doctors need exams too, y'know. We're both doctors, but I don't know, you need a routine exam for like moles or something. Take your clothes off." He says, and you take a split-second to be grateful that Brendon got discovered for his musical talents and will therefore never be an actual doctor.

You stifle back your laughter and strip down to your underwear, lying on your back on top of the white sheet he put over the comforter to protect the bed from any potential messes. He stands over you next to the bed, and you're happy that you at least get to stare at his body during this little experiment. The whole "doctor" thing may not be driving you wild on its own, but your half-naked husband always will.

"Thank you for coming to this appointment, Dr. Y/N Sexy," he says. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, you chant in your head. "First," he says, making his voice husky, "I need to test your reflexes." Something tells you he won't be using one of those little hammers. He bends down and breathes against your neck. You shiver, and goosebumps appear on your arms. You're glad you wore your front clasp bra when he unclips it and has immediate access to your breasts. He circles around your nipple with his finger, and they harden quickly. "Mmm, good reflexes indeed. Very responsive," he purrs. "I don't think your test results are conclusive yet. You should keep going," you encourage. He rubs your scalp, and your head rolls back. You're worried that you'll start drooling.

Brendon smirks at you a little, and his smugness is slightly infuriating. Yes, you like him touching you, but that hardly proves that his weird roleplaying was a good idea. "Just like I observed, fantastic reflexes. But I now must move on to the chest exam." He rests his head on your chest, and you're beginning to suspect that this whole thing was just a ploy to touch your boobs a lot. "Is your heart rate always this fast or just when your hot coworker is touching you?"

"Normally only my husband, also named Brendon… for some reason, can get me so worked up, but now I'm thinking of leaving him for you, McCrinkly."

"It's McKinky, and your husband sounds gorgeous and super smart. You should keep him around," he says, climbing onto you and groping your breasts. "In my professional opinion, these are nice tits."

You have to bite your lip to resist the urge to laugh again. You wouldn't quite say you're aroused, but you are having fun at least. "Okay, okay, doc. Enough of the preliminary exam; I need five and a half inches, stat."

"You couldn't round up to six while we're playing!?"

"Oh, come on, you're lucky I rounded up to five and a half!"

"Rude! So rude!"

You kiss him to shut him up. "Sorry, baby, I won't bully you anymore. Now, how about a cervical exam?" You suggest, craving his thickness inside you.

That cheers him up. Brendon resumes his doctor roleplay. "First, let me complete the dermatological examination. If you could remove your undergarments, please."

You throw your bra on the floor and take off your underwear.

He admires the small amount of newly-exposed skin. "So many marks on your breasts and pubic region. Did your hot husband leave these too, or should I investigate for a skin condition?" He asks, ducking between your thighs to add some more.

"Yeah, he left them there. My sexy husband is kind of the best, but enough about him," you say.

New dark spots pop up after he finally moves his mouth from the sensitive skin of your thighs. "Oops, I think I just burst a couple of capillaries."

Well, someone did some light googling. "Do you think I'll make it?" You ask, faking drama.

"Yes, but you'll need someone to pay lots of attention to the area between your thighs."

He never mastered the art of subtly, did he? "I don't think that will be an issue. My husband will be thrilled."

"Great, that's taken care of. Shall we commence with the cervical exam then?" He asks, rolling off you to tug off his scrubs and underwear. He keeps his dumb coat on, which is more goofy than sexy without clothes underneath, but you don't tell him that. "And we can test your motor skills at the same time. Hands and knees, please."

You obey, and he moves behind you to enter you. He pushes into you quickly and hard, just like you like it. "God, there's so much blood in my, hm, um corpus cavernosum… I think," he says.

"Your what? Are you trying to cast a Harry Potter spell? because that's a whole different roleplay," You crane your neck back to see him, and your eyes widen. "Brendon, are you," you need to pause to choke back your laughter, "are you reading from a flashcard? While inside me?"

He's on his knees behind you, squinting at a white notecard. He flips the card over and reads from it, "the corpus cavernosum is, um, the main erectile tissue in the genitals. So, uh, I was trying to say that I'm hard for you."

That's it, you can't contain your laughter. You can't even bear to look at Brendon without cracking up. Tears are streaming down your face. He hisses, and you think it's because you've upset him, but you turn back to look at him, and he's biting his lip, his head tilted back.

"Are you good, B?" You ask, a little worried.

He's breathing hard. "Yeah, just your laughing caused contractions around my cock, and I was not prepared. Felt good, just unexpected." He pulls almost all the way out and then jerks back in, not quite slamming but gearing up to it.

"Faster, please. Careful still, but faster," you request.

He speeds up perfectly, finally filling you up and relieving the ache inside you. You relish each time his hips meet your body, feeling close to him, even if the position isn't as intimate as he usually likes. You suppose successful Dr. Kinky, notorious womanizer, wouldn't necessarily want to make loving, passionate eye contact with all of his conquests.

"So, Dr. Kinky-"

"No, it's doctor Urie, McKinky."

Jesus, you need a script. "So, Dr. Urie, do you have enough energy after all those lobotomies or whatever to rub a girl's clit? I bet my husband, the other Brendon, would touch me."

"Well, I would never even bother to compete with such a stellar man, but I can still try to get you off." His hands move between your thighs to touch your cunt. "Oh no, so much excess fluid here. I hope nothing's wrong." He puts a finger on your throbbing clit and feigns a sigh of relief, "Good, I've found a pulse." His touch is feather-light as he slowly strokes you. The contrast between his fast, hard thrusts and delicate strokes somehow enhances both of his actions.

"Oh, that's nice," you moan.

"You mind if I have you roll over? I still have to test your flexibility, and I'd love to do that with your legs on my shoulders."

"Fuck yeah."

He pulls out, and you get on your back; he gets you ready by situating the pillows underneath you. You rest a leg on either shoulder, and he thrusts in again. You don't want to admit it to him, but you feel like you'll need to come soon. The spikes of pleasure pulsing between your legs have been getting stronger and closer together, and now that you can see what you do to him, rather than just hearing his occasional grunts, you feel even closer to crossing that finish line.

"I'm observing some rapid contractions, Sexy. Should I note in your chart how close you are to coming all over me? Because it seems to me that you're failing your stamina and endurance evaluation," Dr. Urie teases.

You close your eyes to try to eliminate a source of the arousal, but you still feel painfully close to the edge.

Brendon inadvertently shifts a bit, and that does it. Your arousal peaks intensely, and you try to restrain your reactions on the off chance he doesn't notice. However, you're pretty sure he does notice your orgasm when his movements slow to a stop, and that's confirmed when he outright says it. "You just came," he states. It's not a question.

You nod, not bothering to deny it.

He pulls out, and you finally get to see his still-hard cock soaked with your wetness. "Well I suppose, we can run… further tests to reach a full diagnosis," he practically croons, pulling his scrub pants back on, and a wave of lust spreads from your stomach. Fine, the doctor thing is a little hot. "It's up to you though, I defer to your professional opinion."

"I think my exam is complete, actually, but I know you've been complaining of some pain in this region," you give his crotch a quick squeeze. "Do you mind stripping so I can investigate?"

He immediately takes off his coat, obviously excited, and gives it to you, so you put it on. "So, can you describe the pain?" You ask, putting a hand on his thigh.

"Kind of an ache, I guess?"

You squeeze his thigh, "And you'd say the pain is mainly here?"

"No, uh, um, to the right."

You squeeze his other thigh, "Oh, I see, right here?"

"No, not, um, my thigh."

"Sorry, I understand." You lay your hand flat on his stomach, still carefully avoiding his cock. "Your stomach must be hurting."

"Still not quite."

You clench your jaw in fake frustration. "Well, could you just show me where you need my attention, Doctor Urie?"

He shoves down his pants and grasps his leaking cock, groaning in relief when he starts to tentatively touch himself.

"Yes, very good, thank you. Would you say the ache subsides with stimulation?" You ask professionally.

Brendon nods and smirks a bit, "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, I think you just need to achieve ejaculation," you diagnose.

"Is that, ah, covered under my insurance?" He asks cheekily, still jerking himself.

You laugh, going to dig the lubricant out, "Okay," you nudge his hand away, "leave this to the professionals." You pour the clear lube into your hand. "This may be a bit cold," you warn. He doesn't really need the lube, he's both leaking profusely and still slick from being inside you, but you want to keep up the "doctor vibes." You grasp him firmly and stroke quickly, trying to get him off as soon as you can. You kind of want to use your mouth, but you can't think of a good reason to within the roleplay. That's mostly fine, though, because you can tell he's about to come.

He comes all over your hand without warning a minute or so later. He shudders and groans, spurting twice more. You didn’t realize how worked up he was. Of course, you saw how hard he was, but to come this much from just jerking him off means he was really turned on. "Outstanding sperm production, sir," you say, crudely wiping him up with a tissue.

"Okay, no more doctor talk. My brain is too mushy," he groans.

You take off the coat and get into bed, cuddling against him. "If your brain is mushy, you probably should see a doctor."

He giggles. "So, would you do this again?"

You think for a second. "Well, I'd roleplay with you again, but you have to warn me next time. And probably not the doctor thing again. It was hot playing with you, but thinking about actual medical procedures is not my thing."

He yawns, "Noted about the warning you next time, and that's too bad. I was really looking forward to the oral exam. How big is your mouth? How's your swallow technique?" He says, half-jokingly.

"Hey, don't push it, or we're doing a prostate exam, and due to budget cuts to the hospital, we're going to be low on lubricant."

He cringes, "Point taken. I don't need a doctor roleplay; the next time I want a blowjob, I'll just ask."

You get out of bed and put on your pajamas. "Well, if it's in the next 45 minutes, your request is getting denied because Penny Lane, Bogart, and I are watching the real Grey's Anatomy in the theater while you're still too weak to complain about it. And this is a good time to tell you that my character is not actually a medical doctor. I have a PHD in film studies. I’m a fraud.”

His mouth drops open, "You're telling me that wasn't an official medical handjob?!"

"I trust that you'll get over this. Love you, babe."

He scowls but still mutters a quiet, “I love you too.”

#brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #my work

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Pregnant s/o hcs: Mirio, Bakugo, Todoroki, Midoriya, Iida, Tamaki

SFW, just super fluffy

Mirio:

If you don’t think this man is tearing up when you tell him... uhhh you’d be wrong

He is crying over you and so happy, will kneel and just kiss your tummy

And when you’re in bed that night going to sleep, every few minutes he will nuzzle in closer and whisper, “hey guess what? We’re gonna have a baby”

Anytime he says he loves you now he says it to your tummy too

“I love you Y/n, I love that you are mine and I love that you’re going to be the mother of my child” *bends down* “And I love you too baby”

He will have a really hard time waiting until the second trimester to tell anyone but once he is able, everyone will know, and he’s going to have a party in your honor.

He will treat you like a queen, back rubs and foot rubs...

I feel like when you first tell him you’re pregnant he will come home a few days later with a box... when you open it, it’s a maternity dress, and its actually really pretty, with lace and silk, and nice and stretchy...

“I know you don’t need it now, but I saw it when I was out and thought it would look perfect on you...”

He will compliment you every second of every day, will trace your stretch marks and tell you they make you beautiful because it’s all part of you becoming a mother, it’s a natural tattoo, a reminder of how you’re growing a life inside you

He will want to throw a gender reveal party

And no, it can’t be as simple as balloons popping out of a box, he’s gotta have something extravagant to celebrate like fireworks, monster trucks, or a paid actor dressed as a baby

You’re having his baby! This is a pinnacle moment in his life and he is not about to have some basic ass party

Mirio is definitely the kind of guy who thinks you can’t have sex because it could hurt the baby, you will have to make a very embarrassing call to your doctor about that...

He is looking forward to owning dad sandals (who are we kidding he prolly already does)

Bakugo:

This man will shit himself, make sure he is sitting down

“Bakugo... I’m pregnant”

“Hah?”

“I’m having a baby! You’re gonna be a dad”

He’s really happy and excited, he has no doubt you’ll be an amazing mom but he’s kinda worried about him being a dad...

Am I fit to raise a kid? Will I be a good dad?

He will probably start working more and almost go on over drive... He will start coming home later, picking up earlier shifts... And when you ask him, “Katsuki, are you not happy about the baby?” He will kinda break down and tell you “No of course I’m fucking happy about the baby, I just want the world to be safe for our kid... and I only have 8 months till then and-” He drops to his knees in front of you and he’s tearing up. You’ll get onto your knees too and just hug him, “Katsuki, you can’t fix the world before we have our baby,” you’ll look at him lovingly as he realizes how absurd he was being. “But we can prepare to be the best parents we can be...” “Prepare? We’re already gonna be the best parents.”

Okay, Bakugo hypes up the baby too, like...

“Katsuki, come here! The baby is kicking!” *he puts his hand on your tummy* “Baby’s so strong, just like us,” *grabs you and kisses you* “I knew we made a fucking perfect kid”

He will try kill anyone who oversteps the boundary with the bump (like touching the bump without asking)

“OI EXTRA, you wanna take your fucking hands off my woman and my kid or do I have to do that for you...”

Bakugo would be very unnecessarily competitive in birthing class

Will wake you up in the middle of the night at least once, he’s just laying on his back staring wide eyed at the ceiling... “What if I explode the baby?”

You’ll roll over and look at him annoyed, “you won't explode the baby,”

He will settle again once you give him cuddles

You cannot tell me that he would not be your biggest cheerleader when you’re actually giving birth, “PUSH, FUCKING PUSH DUMB ASS!”

Todoroki:

This man freaks out for a sec... cuz daddy issues. But he has a strong resolve so he will come out of it quickly and decide how to

“Shoto, you aren’t anything like Endeavor, you’re going to be an amazing dad”

He will be extremely happy, but his excitement will be softer

Everyday after you tell him he says you’re glowing

He will want to cook you special things because it’s healthy for the baby, or so his mother told him

Speaking of his mother, she taught him how to knit when he went to visit her in the hospital so you’ll find him knitting little hats and bootie and jackets for the baby

He will nest just as much, if not more than you do

You’ll find him awake at 3AM trying to put together some bullshit ikea thing for the baby with the tiny allen wrench they give you for free. “Shoto, come back to bed... we can do that in the morning” “But the baby needs somewhere to sleep,” “Yes, and I’m not due for another two months”

Shoto is already so soft but I think he would be softer

Like when you fall asleep on the couch, he gets home and just cuddles up to you and asks your bump how it’s day was. He will talk to the bump until you wake up and then he just pepper your face with kisses.

He is the only one of all these men who doesn’t shit himself and die when watching the birthing tape. I think he would be calm and say something like “a woman’s body is made to carry and deliver a child, there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Midoriya:

When you tell him, he’s gonna cry

He will want to call his mom right away

Midoriya is the kinda guy to have a box of his things from when he was a kid stored away to give to his child (it’s all All Might merch but, ya know)

He definitely panics and worries if he is going to be a good father but he takes all that anxiety and just turns it into energy to care for you with

He is already signing you up for birthing classes

This man would take you to all your doctors visits, acupuncture appointments, prenatal massages, and even a strange healing session done in the back room of a health good shop (don’t worry, he checked google reviews, 346 people, and 5 stars) (You weren't sure about it at first, but you felt very at peace afterwards, def worth the 5 star review)

He just really wants you to be happy and healthy

It would be understatement to say he treats you like a queen... he treats you like a goddess, and he tells you everyday how grateful he is that you’re his love and giving him a baby. Especially when you feel insecure about how your body is changing

He will want to make the nursery Hero themed... with an All Might wall decal... you’ll eventually opt for something a little less... exuberant like jungle animals or something. But the compromise is the All Might mobil that spins and says “I am here” while playing twinkle twinkle little star.

He will read to the bump, and sing to it because he wants the baby to know his voice

Will make a ‘goodnight’ song with you for the baby to sing to it every night

Tenya:

Tenya is so excited and immediately starts thinking of things he needs to do for you and baby

The day after he will come home with a bag from the store full of prenatal vitamins and herbal teas that are safe to drink

“My love! I have brought you Evening Primrose supplements, it’s supposed to help with your delivery.”

I think he has name ideas picked out already and is very excited to show them to you. They are all related to the Iida family.

He would ask his brother for advice and would be so excited to tell him when it’s time.

Don’t even worry about pregnancy brain. Iida’s got you, he will help you remember everything you need to know and he will be patient with your cloudy thoughts.

Iida is so matter of fact tho, I can see it coming off as insensitive, especially when you’re dealing with mood swings.

“Darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you it’s just that those chips make your stomach hurt and I was only trying to-” “YOU JUST DONT WANT ME TO BE HAPPYYYY!!!!!!” “My darling, I want all the happiness in the world for you, you are the mother of my child, I- please don’t cry”

He really loves you a lot and he will learn to be a little gentler with you during this phase of the pregnancy

Braxton hicks contractions (the little fake contractions you get during the third trimester, closer to the due date) will send him into panic mode.

But he is also so organized that he is R E A D Y

You clutch your stomach and inhale sharply and sit down, he’s already running to get the hospital bag and getting the keys for the car.

(The hospital bag includes, diapers, baby clothes, blankets, stress balls for you to squeeze during contractions and a birth mix which includes mostly Baroque composers but theres a few taylor swift and harry styles songs because he thinks it would be cool if the baby was born to Adore You, because Iida adores you and that baby so much)

Tamaki:

He is terrified

But ultimately knowing that he has a child on the way actually does wonders for his confidence because he wants his child to have a good example and he doesn’t want the child to inherit his crippling shyness

He really is there for you and much like Shoto, shows it in a soft way

Tamaki is so food oriented already that he is especially considerate of your cravings and would probably try them, no matter how weird they are

Pregnancy makes you super hungry but thats okay because Tamaki is a brilliant cook

Tamaki is also very sensitive to the knowledge that it will change after the baby is born and that he has you all to himself for just a little while longer

He is going to take you on special weekend trips, like a sleepy beach town to just relax and eat good food

He will also take you on extra dates because he just wants to soak up your time together as a couple

He is very aware of how much work you’re doing constantly to carry his child and he will want to spoil you

“Y-you’re just so beautiful, a-and you chose me, and now you’re carrying my child...I just... I love you so much and thank you for letting me be yours b-because you make me so happy.”

He will freak out when he sees the birthing tape

“I-I am so sorry, I can’t believe I’ve put you through this... you’re- you- This is all my fault...” *panic panic panic*

But when you’re actually in labour he is very supportive, he will just apologize while you’re screaming in agony and wish there was something else he could do other than bring you ice chips...

#bnha #mha #mha hcs #bnha hcs #tamaki #iida #deku #midoriya #izuku #katsuki #bakugo #todoroki #mirio #shoto #amajiki #togota

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ironhusband · 4 years

Text

Five times Rhodey cried

Rhodey doesn’t cry much. Nearly never, in fact. It’s not like he’s emotionally stunned or anything like that, he just doesn’t show happiness or sadness or anger through crying. It’s not like he doesn’t feel or shows all those emotions. It’s just that he’s an Air-Force man, and he’s been building towards that his entire life. He’s professional and obedient, and he’s seen and been through worse. He couldn’t cry when he’s on tour, so why cry when Bambi dies? His family and Tony tell him he’s weird, but his fellow soldiers get it.

When he does cry, it’s only during big, life changing moments, when he knows his life will never be the same and he’s glad for it or mournful for it or both.

~~~

The first time Rhodey cried (”that he remembers,” Jeanette likes to tease him) was when he got his ROTC acceptance letter. His mama was the one to bring it to him, grinning from ear to ear while she handed him the letter.

When Rhodey touched the envelope, he was nervous. “It’s a small envelope,” he hesitated.

“So?” Jeanette encouraged him, “you’re the top of your class. The Air-Force will be stupid to reject you.”

“Maybe they just went for someone else,” Rhodey tried to excuse, “probably a lot of people applied and MIT is hard to get into, so-”

Jeanette grabbed the envelope right from his fingers, and Rhodey scrambled to get it back, “Jean, give it back!”

“You’re being ridiculous! You’re mourning something before you even know the answer! If you stopped struggling, and let me open the letter, you could mourn for real!”

“Kids,” their dad said, exasperated, “Jeanette, give Rhodey his letter back.”

Jeanette sighed, “only if he opens it.”

“I’m going to open it,” he tugged at the letter.

Jeanette handed it back. Rhodey sat down, grabbed the letter opener, and prayed under his breath-

“I got in,” he muttered, shocked, though suddenly he didn’t understand why, and then he was crying, “I got in!”

His family whooped and cheered and gave him a group hug and Rhodey could only laugh and cry, happy that the thing he’d been building towards his entire life was going to happen.

~~~

If you asked the public which of them cried during their first time, they’d probably say neither. Tony’s friends would probably not hesitate before knowingly saying “Tony.” Rhodey’s family and Jarvis will say “both” being painfully aware of the pining on both ends, and Rhodey’s army buddies will playfully rib him about crying during sex, but only Rhodey and Tony know the answer is just Rhodey, and Tony will never let him live it down.

In Rhodey’s defence, it’s before the sex, not during, and he tired was of the repression DADT forced him into and he it wasn’t his fault that his family and Tony’s affectionate touches made him unprepared for no one even hugging him for a month, and he became a little tocuhstarved when he got his first leave.

His first stop after he got his leave was Tony, because he was closer, and because Rhodey knew his family could likely survive without him for a few more days, but Tony was probably already dead.

It was more quiet than he expected it to be. The Air-Force changed Rhodey, and they both knew it. It took awhile before they found a topic which didn’t land them in awkward silence. They talked about Tony’s inventions, Tony’s trips across the globe, Rhodey’s new friends, the letters he got from Tony and his family. It was nice when he could see how excited Tony became as he rambled and it was nice that Tony laughed at the same jokes Rhodey’s friends made Rhodey laugh at. But it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t carefree, and there was this tension between them, until Rhodey let it slip, “I missed you.”

Tony seemed surprised by this, hadn’t expected the admission. They both were more men of actions rather than words. But then Tony’s gaze turned soft, and he was getting closer to Rhodey. Rhodey noticed how Tony grew a few inches while Rhodey was gone, and it makes him sad that he didn’t get to see it. Tony got closer, and Rhodey was suddenly thinking of something else because Tony was really really close, and Rhodey truly did miss him.

“I missed you too,” Tony admitted, fingers softly touching Rhodey’s chin just a bit to angle him up, just a bit to drive Rhodey insane, just a bit so that their lips touched.

Kissing Tony differs from any other kiss Rhodey had. It’s slow and gentle, but still somehow... all consuming. Life changing. Purely amazing. Maybe Rhodey would look back at the kiss one day and realize that technique-wise, it was terrible, but in that moment, kissing Tony was everything.

He’d been pining for Tony ever since he first told him he was brilliant, and after enlisting, he found out that the saying about absence making the heart grow fonder was true, because he’d spent most of his time missing Tony. It felt so overwhelming, Tony’s fingers grazing his nape, his breath against Rhodey’s lips, Tony’s hip bone biting into his hip. It’s everything he missed, and everything he wanted, and it was so overwhelming, but so good.

When Tony pulled back, Rhodey was breathless and had tears in his eyes, and it wasn’t because the kiss was breathtaking or tear-bringing. Tony was.

Tony ruined the moment, of course.

“Aw, honeybear, are you crying?” Tony teased, “didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

Tony was still chuckling when Rhodey shoved him down, when Rhodey muttered, “yeah, yeah,” and kissed Tony again.

~~~

If Rhodey made a list of all the things most important to him, his family, his job and Tony would tie for first place. Well, sometimes depending on the week, if Rhodey was frustrated at Tony or DADT, those last two would be knocked down a few grades, but his family was always first place, no matter how annoying his baby sister was sometimes.

So of course he cried when he got a new addition to his family.

He was pacing in the waiting room, concerned and nervous, but mostly excited. He was happy, and he couldn’t sit still for it, no matter how many times Tony pulled him down to sit next to him.

When Lila’s wife finally called for him, he basically ran to the delivery room.

He found Jeanette there, seeming exhausted, but happy with the new-born baby girl in her arms. When she noticed him, she grinned, mentioning for Rhodey to come closer. “Jim, meet Lila,” she said, tilting the baby so Rhodey could look at her beautiful face.

“Can I...?” he asked and Jeanette nodded, handing Lila over to Rhodey carefully.

The weight in his arms and the way the baby’s face was squished against his face, felt right, felt nice. He already knew this would be one of his favorite things to do whenever he would babysit for his sister. “Hey, baby girl. I’m your uncle. I’m going to spoil you rotten.” Lila yawned and grabbed his finger, and suddenly tears overwhelmed his eyes, and he felt a sob coming.

“She’s a fast learner,” Tony pointed out (since when was he beside him?), and then he looked at Rhodey’s face, smiling fondly when he told Jeanette, “Rhodey’s about to cry his eyes out.”

Jeanette laughed, “oh my god.”

Then the dam broke, and suddenly Rhodey was weeping, sobs making his entire body shake.

“Maybe I should take Lila away,” Tony suggested, and Rhodey could only tearfully nod. To Jeanette’s surprise, once Lila’s was in Tony’s arms, Rhodey, instead of running out of the room to cry in private, hugged her tightly, whispering, “I’m gonna be the best babysitter, you’ll see, me and Tony, anytime you ask, I love Lila so much already, Jean, she’s gonna be such a smart, beautiful, amazing girl. I love her. I love you.”

Jeanette didn’t question it, only hugged him back, and whispered back, “love you too, big brother.”

~~~

Rhodey didn’t cry during the three months Tony was gone. Tony wasn’t dead, so there was no reason to, right? Right. He’d get him back home and everything’d be okay again. No reason to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. There were a lot of times he really wanted to cry.

It was only when Rhodey got Tony back home safely and Tony showed him the arc-reactor that suddenly Rhodey felt it all. Something about the scars around Tony’s chest, and the thought of an engineering marvel inside Tony’s chest, the idea that something so scary, so untrustworthy was keeping his love alive... Rhodey just felt it all. The exhaustion from looking for Tony, the weight of the rumors that could end his career, the frustration at the endless sea of lifeless sand, and that-

“I could have lost you,” he said, surprising both of them, and then he gathered Tony in his arms and let out a tiny sob, “I was so close to losing you.”

Tony hugged back, “shh, Rhodey, it’s okay. You didn’t lose me. I’m right here.”

“I almost lost you,” Rhodey said again, “I nearly believed I lost you. I could have lost you.” Rhodey sounded like a broken record at that point, but he didn’t care.

“Shhh, everything’s okay. You didn’t lose me. I’m right here. And from now on, we’re only riding together. You’ll never lose me again. Right?”

Rhodey only weakly nodded against Tony’s shoulder, trying not to think of Tony’s corpse on a operating table after a surgery gone wrong, but focusing on him being alive, and with him, right now.

~~~

It’s not something Rhodey advertises, but before Rhodey settled on the more realistic career of being in the Air-Force, Rhodey wanted to be a superhero. He admired Batman and Superman and Captain America and told his parents that when he was big he’d be rich like Batman and have a flying suit that had super strength like Superman and Captain America’s superpowers. The only evidence of that dream was in the Rhodes family picture album and Tony’s screen saver of him in a Captain America costume (no matter how much Rhodey begged Tony to change it).

So, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that War Machine was a dream come true.

It first happened several weeks after Tony healed from Palladium poisoning. Rhodey took a break from his job and War Machine to just be with Tony, hold him a little too tight to remind him that Tony almost died but he isn’t gone, and make up for their fight. Then duty called, and Rhodey didn’t hesitate when he got in the War Machine armor.

“You look so good in it,” Tony sighed and leaned up to give him a kiss, “proud of you, honey. Go kick some ass.”

Rhodey smiled and almost shrieked in delight when he was flying again, almost having forgotten how good it felt (granted, the last time wasn’t so great, but now he had free will so it was better than ever).

When he got back, Tony was already dragging him to the living room, excitedly talking about the news, and how it was nice to keep track of Rhodey and then Rhodeyy saw the headline of the news. “Superhero War Machine resurfaces” it read.

“You’re famous now,” Tony teased, but then he took a double take at Rhodey’s face and asked, concerned, “Rhodeybear, are you alright? Does this trigger the fight for you, or something?”

Rhodey, mostly not hearing him, could only say, “I’m a superhero.”

Tony smiled, “course you are, babe. I was only joking about the sidekick thing.”

Rhodey’s grin grew, “I’m a superhero!”

“Yeah, I kno-” but then Rhodey was throwing Tony in the air and laughing happily and Tony was too stunned to finish his quip.

“I’m a superhero!” he felt like shouting that from rooftops.

“Hon, I thought you knew,” Tony shook his head, still winded even after Rhodey put him down, “why is this such a big deal?”

“It’s a huge deal, Tony!” he said, cupping Tony’s face, his eyes brimming with tears ready to be shed, blurry vision on his husband, “I’ve got everything I ever wanted.”

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fatbottombucky · 4 years

Text

Three’s Company *Ransom Drysdale x Reader*

Summary: M!Reader’s girlfriend, Ella, wants a threesome. After discovering it’s going to be with another dude you set some ground rules, a clear rule being “no gay shit!”. Despite not being gay, yourself and Ransom find yourselves intently wanting Ella to be gone throughout the fucking.

Pairings: Male!Reader x Female Original Character/ Ransom Drysdale x Male!Reader / Ransom Drysdale x Female Original Character

Rating: [+18] Explicit

Warnings: Internal homophobia. Threesome shenanigans, female and male oral-giving and receiving. degrading talk. Swear words. Two men wanting to fuck one another, but they can’t cause of their internal homophobia.

Word Count: 2854

Note: There’s nothing against gays in this, lmao I am gay. It’s just mostly reader and ransom wanting to fuck but being like “we shouldn’t cause we’re straight! But I am going to look directly into his eyes as this girl sits on my dick!”

“When you said threesome I expected another female to be joining us,” you exasperated.

It was only a week ago when your girlfriend of eight months had propositioned you with the idea of a threesome. It had caught you off guard, nonetheless you agreed wholeheartedly. You weren’t a guy to shy away from sex adventures, you’ve seen and done plenty with women.

It’s what made Daniella, or Ella to you, so interested in you. You aren’t exactly in her social class, she comes from old money and has a trust fund, whereas you come from- well, no money and you work everyday of your life just to scrape by. You’ve often had the thought she’s only with you to rebel against her family, bringing you along to social gatherings to cause a fuss. It’s whatever. She’s beautiful and nice, so you’re willing to go along because, hey, you’re not alone then.

What caught you off guard was the third member she wanted, a male. You expected one of her high-class girlfriends, they’ve always had a keen interest in your relationship with Ella. Wondering why she’d be with you and for so long.

“Hell, no.” Ella grimaces like the thought of kissing another girl is repulsive, “I’d prefer to have another guy having their way with me.”

There’s a glint in her eyes, a playfulness. Her fluttering lashes normally work on you but not this time.

You’re apprehensive. The photo of the man in question serves him well; sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes and a wicked smirk, he oozes some sinful confidence that you severely lack. Who even is this guy? Where did she even meet him? Had this guy been the reason all along for the threesome to be brought up?

“Ransom Drysdale,” Ella smirks and flicks her eyes back to her phone, the picture still blindly on display. You almost snap the steering wheel off, deciding to focus on driving her Audi through the bustling New York streets. “He’s in New York right now, our families know one another and I’ve always wondered if the rumours are true about him.”

Great.

This guy has a reputation and she’s been thinking about it.

“I don’t know how I feel about another guy fucking you,” you somehow get out and the way she snaps her head to you, well this is going to be a big L in your books. “Or being with a guy in this setting, so what? I thought threesomes are where we all participate but I don’t wanna be with some guy like that.”

Ella snorts, she’s laughing at you. “How would a girl be any different?”

“I don’t know, Ella, it just would be different.”

“That’s so pathetic,” you roll your eyes and just stare at the road ahead, “You don’t have to do anything with him and anything I do with him you’ll be there. In fact, you can say right now if there’s anything you don’t want to happen. I just want two dicks, that’s all.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Besides Ransom isn’t gay, so he won’t even go near you like that.”

“This is so bizarre,” you muttered and shifted in your seat beside Ella. The restaurant was fancy, super expensive and elite. You had already downed half a glass of red wine-of which you expected cost more than the suit you were wearing. “Why are we getting dinner with him?”

Ella snickered and rolled her eyes. “Good manners, babe,” voice sweet as she looks at you.

You’d done some Googling on Drysdale when you got back to the hotel earlier. Whole family is filthy rich due to his grandfather, Harlan, famous murder-mystery writer. You haven’t read any of his books because books are commitments, more so than relationships.

Ransom’s name pops up in headlines every few weeks; new girls hanging off his arms or some outlandish story being featured on tabloids.

He’s not the type you’d personally hang out with, then again, Ella isn’t the usual company you keep.

“Sorry I’m late, Ellie.” You snap your head up as Ella stands up, embracing the well-dressed man. “Traffic was shit. You guys haven’t been here long, right?”

Yourself and Ella both speak at the same time. “No, of course not.”- “Twenty minutes, actually.”

You’re gifted a bitchy glare from Ella as you stand up, you’ve never been one to shy away from speaking up. Rich people aren’t an exception to your patience. This makes Ransom smirk at you though, clearly not offended or peeved off by your remark.

He shakes your hand firmly. “Ransom Drysdale, sure you’ve heard from me.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, honestly, only just learnt who you are today.” The three of you sit down and then you go silent, staring blankly at your glass of wine because what are the rules here?

Ella had told you she had asked Ransom. So, he knows why the three of you are here. But now what? You order food and eat, wine and dine, then fuck back at the hotel and that’s it. Of course, that’s it. There’s nothing else to do, but you can’t help but think there must be more steps. Some kind of conversation that needs to happen.

If there is a conversation that needs to happen, it doesn’t happen. Ella and Ransom are deep into conversation about ‘old times’. You sit just drinking and listening, usually how it is in your relationship. You never really have anything interesting to say to the wealthy, mostly because they wouldn’t listen anyway.

“So Y/N, what do you do?” Ransom’s voice is smooth and deep, his face is illuminated by the candles in the centre of the table. You raise an eyebrow at the causal question, “what? I think it’s better than me asking, why did you agree to let me fuck your girlfriend?”

You dryly chuckle and take another sip of wine, able to hold off on the question as your meals are placed before you. You contemplate and mull over his questions, either Ella hasn’t told him that you aren’t rich or he knows but wants to goad you into it anyway.

“Well, I work a lousy job as an accountant and I’m mostly paying off my student loans from university.” Better to be truthful than stupid in front of the rich. “Before you ask, no, I’m not using my degree at this job. I studied for five years to use it for nothing. I’m also agreeing because I’m no prude, done a few things and whilst I’d prefer you be another female, I can sort of see the appeal of two dicks.”

There’s a few seconds of just silence. Ella is volleying her eyes between you both. Ransom chews his steak slowly, eyes intently watching you and looking you over. It’s intense. You want him to stop, but you don’t look away.

A smirk spreads across his face and he nods. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”

“Splurged on the room then,” Ransom smirks as he unties his scarf, pulling it off of his neck and throwing it carelessly on the back of the armchair. “Must be nice to have the finer things,” he pats your shoulder roughly and gives you a knowing smile.

You shrugged, the nerves being knocked away from the liquid courage you guys have consumed. “Can’t complain about the nice rooms we stay in.” You walk over to the minibar and nod, Ransom gives a curt nod.

Ella scurries off towards the bedroom, a sultry smile of her ‘freshening up’ for the both of you.

“She’s told you the rules, right?” You asked and poured yourself another drink, Ransom let’s out a light chuckle as he sauntered over to you. You lift an eyebrow in question, “It’s just for… boundaries really, I’m sure you understand.”

The corner of Ransom’s mouth curls up, bringing the bourbon to his lips and taking a thoughtful sip, he’s standing close to you. Rubbing his shoulder against yours, he smells earthy and expensive, like spicy leather and musky mornings.

“I got your rules, don’t worry.” Placing the tumbler glass down. “More rules about us not doing stuff than me fucking your girl, though.”

You looked at him hesitantly and quickly looked away, downing your own drink hurriedly. Before you can defend yourself, not that you need to, Ella calls for you both. Standing in the bedroom doorway, hip leaning against the frame and her arms crossed.

Ella is dressed in nothing but simply lacy lingerie, that you know cost more than your rent. She looks beautiful, the lilac set matches her skin perfectly, hair is styled into a relaxed mused style- so you can play with it, you imagine.

“Are you boys coming to join me or not?”

That’s all the invitation you need before you’re walking around Ransom, placing your hands on her hips and pressing your lips to hers softly, she whimpers into your mouth before pulling away. Taking your hand and then extending her other towards Ransom, you chance a glance at the taller man.

His cock sure smirks makes you look away, taking Ella’s other hand and she pulls you both into the bedroom. The big, soft, luxurious bed would do fine at handling your three bodies.

You glance stiffly at the white sheets, well, now what? You know what to do when with just Ella but now you’re left in uncharted territory. Turning to look at the both of them once you’re stood in front of the bed, hands getting clammy for some reason.

“Well, undressed yourselves.” Ella smirks as she sits on the end of the bed with a bounce, crossing one leg over her other, leaning back on her elbows as she looks at them.

You start to unbutton your shirt, looking over at Ransom to see he was doing the same. You don’t take your eyes off of Ransom as you remove the shirt, letting the pale blue fabric to fall to the floor and then starting on your belt. Ransom begins to do the same, the clanging of his expensive Gucci belt is enough to numb your other senses.

You're both down to your boxers, both black Calvin Klines. Ella raises an amused eyebrow and allows her legs to fall open. Lifting a hand and crooking a finger in a come hither motion, you follow with little relcultance. Falling to her side and pressing open mouth kisses to her soft neck. One of your hands sneaking up and cupping one of her lacy breasts, squeezing the flesh harshly as you suck at her neck.

Ella let out a breathy moan, a sharp gasp escaping her at Ransom running his fingers over her clothed pussy. You help her sit up and unclasp her bra, allowing her perky breasts to slip free of the confines. Ransom slips the panties down her long legs before pushing her thighs apart, slotting himself between them.

For a brief moment you are captivated by him, watching as he languidly licked up her core and wrapped his plump, pink lips wrap around his clit. The moans Ella whines out are white noise, your brows furrow together and you wet your lips. You’re about to look away but Ransom looks up, capturing your eyes in with his deep blue ones. His left eye drops down into a playful wink.

You break out of his spell and look back at Ella, her eyes are screwed shut and her mouth is open wide, moans and groans leaving her wildly. You’re quick to attach your mouth to her nipples, already pebbled and peaked into hard nubs, lavishing her nipple with your tongue.

“God, your mouths,” she breathes harshly.

Time seems to meld as yourself and Ransom tease Ella with your tongues. You tease her nipples and softly bite on them as Ransom pushes two fingers into her and sucks on her clit. You both work in tandem, almost competitively, trying to see who can draw the most noises from her.

“You sure I’m not allowed to fuck this hole?” Ransom asked punctuating the question with a forceful thrust of his fingers.

His crude words make you shiver, a smirk pulling up on your mouth as your eyes narrow in delight. He’s asking permission, he certainly seems like the type to just take what he wants, save the consequence for whenever.

“You think you’ve earned it?” That question throws Ransom off, it even has Ella raising her eyebrows at you but you don’t spare her a glance. Your eyes bore into Ransom’s, unable to look away like the previous times.

Ransom grabs Ella’s ankle and flips her onto her stomach, tapping her hip and she raises them wordlessly, he gives you a questioning glare.

“She likes it hard and deep,” you sit up on your knees, a hand softly running through her hair and gripping it tightly, “don’t hold back, Ran. I won’t be,” you pull down your boxers with your other hand and free your straining cock.

You haven’t felt this hard in a while; you put it down to the fact this is new and exciting. You push the leaking tip into Ella’s waiting mouth, she hums approvingly around your girth. A low groan falls from your lips and you look up in time to see Ransom rid himself of his own underwear.

A large hand is wrapped around his own cock, rubbing it lazily and, for some reason, you can’t take your eyes off of his member. Seeing him naked has stolen your air away; his whole body is immaculate and strong, truly a vision.

You shake your head when Ella gags around your length, slowly pulling it out of her before looking up. Ransom had caught you staring at him, but instead of a disgusted look like you thought he’s wearing a curious look. An unreadable look.

As he pushes in his impressive length he gives you a look, his hands gripping Ella’s hips tightly. The warm caven of Ella’s mouth envelopes you again, you moan loudly but you’re unable to look away from Ransom and he seems to not be able to look away from you either.

“That’s it,” Ransom grunts as he starts to pound Ella from behind causing her body to jolt, pushing her further onto your cock.

The force of his thrusting hips and yours into her mouth, using Ella to reach your peaks. Finding a hard and rough rhythm together. A pushing and pulling rhythm. You’re both grunting and groaning, looking into one another's eyes intensely.

Ella’s whimpers and gagging sounds are numb to your ears, only focused on Ransom. His eyebrows are drawn together, jaw is clenched and his eyes are hard; dark and lust filled.

“You like that?” The question momentarily makes you stutter, Ransom locked on you but Ella hums in admission.

It wasn’t directed at her, though.

You nod once, careful to only groan loudly and not make it seem that it’s going to be Ransom that’ll make you cum.

“Of course, you do!” Ransom chuckles darkly, thrusting into Ella harder and grinding his cock deep into her, “fucking filthy. Dirty little whore for me, aren’t you?” Again Ella answers in whimpers and spit slicked sounds, but you have Ransom’s attention.

“Going to cum, I can feel it. Go ahead, fuckin’ cum for me.”

Your hips stutter deep in Ella’s throat, she gags but groans at the feeling. You cum down her tight throat, copious amounts of cum spurting out of you, a strained growl is yelled from you. Eyes being forced shut at the suddenness of your orgasm.

Ella greedily swallows every drop, licking your cock clean as you slowly drag it out of her mouth and fall back against the bed. Beads of sweat across your forehead and chest, Ella looks at you and smiles before whining again. Ransom keeps going ramming into her harder and faster, his eyes still scorned onto you.

You watch as Ella reaches her peak rather quickly after you, trembling under Ransom and whimpering, you sit up and cup her face in your hands. Kissing her softly before pulling away, looking up at Ransom who has his eyes shut before looking down at you.

“Cum inside of her.” You demand without hesitation and Ransom seems to take it.

His whole body becoming rigid and spasming, hips stilling inside of Ella as he cums deep within her walls. It’s a few silent seconds of heavy breathing. Till he pulls out and sinks back on his hunches, chest heaving and hair stuck to his forehead.

Despite the fact you both had such an intimate moment during this, you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye now. Knowing you orgasmed because of him, that you likely got hard because of him.

It’s weird. It’s odd. Ella stretches out on the bed, a low hum of approval to what just happened coming from her.

“Give me a few minutes and we can change positions and one of you can stick it in my ass.”

A deep part of you wished she’d fall asleep and it was just yourself and Ransom.

(Let me know what you think!!! So, yeah... I am writing a part 2 where Ransom and Male Reader get some alone time and get to... do some activities ;) but I wanted it to be like this whole weird sexual competitiveness between them with little moments of mxm - Rosalie)

#ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x male reader #ransom drysdale x male!reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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