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expectos-writings · 2 years

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Behave (Dom!Norman Osborn x Sub!F!reader)

Word count: 6720

Rating: M

Summary: You and your boyfriend Norman go to a corporate party and decide to spice the evening up

(A/n: sorry for taking so looooong, exams were kicking my ass last week hahaa. Also I know most people consider him a sub because of the crawling in the movie, might do something with that later on, but for now take his dominant side, including a daddy king, smut using mirror, a shower and tons of sexual tension)

‘Darling?’ You heard your boyfriend Norman call from the other side of the room. You put your book down and glance over at him.

‘Yes, Norman?’ as your eyes meet him you knew what it was. You two were invited to a Stark party, and the last time you were at a party… let’s just say you were pushing your boyfriends boundaries. The two of you liked to spice things up in the bedroom, but also outside of that. You had developed a dom/sub relationship, which you exercised at various occasions. Last party you had been a pain in his ass, flirting with everyone, being mean to him, which led to a wonderful night.

Whatever he was going to say, you were definitely going to do anything to get a repeat of that night. But the mischievous glint in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

‘Before we start, can you repeat the safe word for me, pretty thing?’ he asks, and you just knew this was going to be one hell of a night.

‘Watermelon.’ You say, never breaking eye contact. He walks towards you while you sit on your knees on the couch to look over the back rest, your elbows leaning on it. When he is right in front of you, he cups your cheeks and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. ‘Good girl.’ He says before kissing your forehead and continuing.

‘So, when we get to the party,’ he threads a hand through your hair ‘what will you do?’

‘Stay by your side.’ You answer, but it wasn’t enough. He pulled your hair.

‘And what else?’ You try to think, but the way he was tugging your hair made your brain go into error mode.

‘Behave.’ You muttered out, biting back a smirk, knowing full well you would not behave in the slightest. He knew it too, and he loved it when he had to put you back in place. his hand left your hair, and you sigh at the loss of contact, this man could rile you up so easily.

Norman walked towards one of the cabinets, pulling out a bag and handing it over to you. ‘Now, as you said you would behave,’ he said, both of you knowing what would happen later, ‘be a doll and put this on for me, will you?’ he asks politely. You look into the bag. In it lay the most gorgeous, yet outrageously short black dress you’d ever seen.

‘Norman! You didn’t have to!’ you squealed. You were in your twenties and he in his forties with a stable job as CEO of Oscorp. You weren’t with him for his money, but it didn’t hurt you either.

‘Hmmm I know, but you know how much I love spoiling my baby girl.’ He says once again stepping closer to you. Your body feels warm at the use of pet name. ‘Thanks daddy.’ You say giving him a kiss on the cheek. He growls at your words, this is going to be a long night.

‘Better get dressed, sweetheart, or we’ll be late.’ You turn on your heel to rush up the stairs. When you turn around, he quickly gives you a slap on your ass, making you yelp and quicken your pace. He smiles at your reaction, enjoying the power you let him have over you.

You get dressed quickly. Underneath the dress in the bag there was a beautiful red lace set of lingerie Norman had also chosen for you. You loved dressing up for him, it made you feel confident and sexy to know he want to see you like that. You put everything on, smiling at your reflection. Your plan for tonight was to see if you could make him snap before you even got back home, rile him up so bad he had to take you right then and there.

After quickly putting on your make-up, making sure the shade of lipstick you used matched the bright red of the lingerie set. Then you walked downstairs where Norman was waiting for you. He had already changed into his suit, making him look more dominant. His hair was done back, and he smirked as he saw you approach him. you made a mental note to mind the skirt of your dress if you had to walk down a stairs at the party venue, but for now you let it slide, giving Norman a hardly innocent peak at the merchandize he bought you. His eyes darkened at the sight of you.

‘You look beautiful.’ He said almost breathlessly, making you chuckle.

‘Hmmmm, you picked a nice dress.’ You placed your hands on his chest and he put his arms on your hips.

‘Not as nice as the sight I’ll be having all night.’ He said brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Oh? You look not so bad yourself.’ He replied, completing the cliché.

A car horn interrupted you, letting you know the chauffeur had arrived. Sometimes Norman or you would drive, but tonight you were both drinking so you had called in a chauffeur. You both walked towards the door, his hand on your lower back. With his other hand he opened the door for you, like a real gentleman. You bowed your head slightly as a joke, then you walked out the door to the chauffeur. As the Chauffeur moved to open the side door for you Norman quickly squeezed your scarcely dressed ass one last time for now as you slid into the backseat as fast as possible.

You both were smiling like idiots, you loved these careless nights when you could both let loose, knowing at the end of this party it’ll be just the two of you. The ride to the venue was about 10 minutes. You put your plan in motion. First you turned in your seat to face Norman, the partition to the drivers side was closed for privacy, and you put your hand on your boyfriends thigh.

He smiled at your action as you rub small circles with your thumb. You drive in comfortable silence for about a minute when you sneak your hand upwards towards his crotch. Before your hand reaches it’s destination however, Norman caught onto your plan and snatched your wrist with his hand, he was stronger than he looked and all you could do was pout as he keeps a firm hold on you.

‘Darling, I told you to behave, didn’t I?’ his voice sounds stern, but the glint in his eyes betrays that he is enjoying this.

‘You might have mentioned it…’ You say back with a smile, knowing full well that this isn’t what he wanted to hear right now. Your thoughts were supported when his other hand went to grab your cheeks, pulling you more towards him.

‘I’m going to ask you nicely one more time, baby girl, will you behave?’ his voice was low and gravely, it almost sounded like a threat.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You say this time.

‘Good girl.’ He replies with a smirk.

But you weren’t giving up on your plan yet. As he moves your chin forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips you hold onto his arms pulling yourself forward. He let you deepen the kiss, both of you already yearning for one another. When you moved to straddle his hips, he found just a tiny bit of self control to push you gently back into your seat. The dress was riding up your thighs exposing your hips and the underwear he got you. He looks hungry, and he knows he is done for if he doesn’t take measure now, knowing you will stop at nothing.

‘So, it is gonna be like that, sweetheart?’

‘Like what?’ you say, trying to sound as innocent as possible while batting your eyelids, giving him puppy eyes while you’re at it’

‘You know damned well what. First, I need you to adjust your dress, you can’t step out of the car like that, and I don’t want people ogling what is mine.’ His possessiveness sent heat to your core, and you obeyed without any further remarks. ‘Good,’ he continues, ‘second, we are going to work with the strike system. You remember the rules, darling?’

Your heart was pounding. ‘Yes, sir.’ You whisper out.

‘I need to hear it.’ He demands.

You recalled the rules. This system had come about not long after the two of you started this relationship dynamic. While you were more than happy to let him take control, you also liked to rile him up until he would put you in place. so, the two of you had made the three strike rule. Whenever you were being a handful when he had specifically told you to behave, he would give strikes. He indicated the number of strikes by scratching his chin with the number of fingers that corresponded to the number of strikes you’d earned. The rules were clear, Norman was satisfied with your answer.

By the time you had gone over the rules (no flirting with strangers and all that basic stuff), the car had arrived at the venue. You door was on the side of the entrance to the building. Your boyfriend was about to rush out his side of the door when you stopped him with a hand on his thigh. He looked at you confusedly. You smirked and opened your own door, your dress was readjusted but still dangerously short.

‘You got some lipstick on your lips, babe.’ You say before rushing inside. Norman cursed at you as you walked into the venue. He had an image to keep up as CEO for fucks sake. He found a handkerchief and wiped off the make up. This also gave him the time he needed for his erection to go down a bit.

When he finally entered the party room you were already talking with Otto and his wife, Rosie. He walked over to you and as soon as he stood by your side you linked your arm trough his, knowing your place tonight was by his side hanging on his arm. As soon as Norman stepped into the conversation, it was just the two man talking. It was all work and science and you and Rosie were just standing there, letting them have their fun.

Every now and then a waiter came by with a plate of glasses. When Norman moved his arm to get a glass you snuck out. He probably didn’t even notice at first. You grabbed a cocktail from the plate and went over to some of the people who were around your age. Peter was there too with MJ, and Harry also stood with them. Harry knew you and his dad were dating, but he was okay with it. He wasn’t too involved in his fathers romantic life anyways, but it did explain why his dad wanted to know about his relationship with regard to you. Harry knew you liked older men and was not at all surprised when you and his dad started dating.

‘Hey Y/n! Damn you look good. Tired of playing arm candy for the night?’ Harry says with a wink.

You give him a playful punch on the arm and you both smile. ‘Why, you wanna switch roles, Osborn?’ you challenge him. he smiles at the idea, then puts his hands up. The three of you start talking and laughing. Only once did you look over your shoulder and you saw Norman still talking with Otto.

Men.

You hadn’t noticed the moment he realized you had been gone for a while. And when he saw you laughing with the boys, he felt angry. You were supposed to be his arm candy and now you were laughing with those other guys, who were also more around you age.

He had snuck his way towards where you were standing and placed his arm around your waist.

‘There you are, I almost thought you’d left.’ He says in a teasing way but with a darker undertone, like a warning for you to watch what you’re doing. You see it as a challenge.

‘Hi dad.’ Norman greets him and Peter does the same, shaking Normans hand. When Norman moves his hand back around your waist, he makes sure to, as sneaky as possible and without batting an eye, give your ass a quick squeeze. It took everything in you not to squeal or jump. This man. MJ didn’t say anything, still angry at Norman from when he had called her a throw away piece for his son, which is fair of her.

The conversation was held light, you just talking about school things.

‘So, Y/n, how do you manage to get so high on that Evolving Universe course? There were so many small details you had to know, and I never even paid attention to those.’ Harry asked.

‘If I’d told you, you’d file a complaint.’ You said with a wink, Harrys eyes widened.

‘Wait, did you really?’ he asks nervously, looking at you with disbelieve. Peter and MJ laughed, knowing this was a typical joke you’d make.

‘Course not! I just have a really good memory.’ You boasted, making Harry laugh too. Only one person didn’t join in. the hand around your waist tightened to an almost painful degree.

‘Excuse us, we have someone to talk to over there.’ Norman said before guiding you away from your friends and towards some other people at the bar. He cleared his throat, making you look at him. one finger was stroking his beard, letting you know your joke went too far. All you could think was ‘one down, two to go’.

Norman leaned down to whisper in your ear, making sure no one else heard. ‘If your memory really were that good, baby girl, why do you not obey my rules?’

You bite your bottom lip, no witty reply comes out at the moment, his threatening voice and dark eyes clouding over your thoughts.

‘Behave now.’ He says just before you reach the bar. Two men were already standing there, one in a suit with black hair and sunglasses and one with curly dark hair and a purple button up shirt. You were sure you had seen them somewhere before.

‘Good evening, gentleman.’ Norman spoke, putting on his best ‘I have to make these people like me’ voice. ‘Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Norman Osborn, head of Oscorp, and this is my girlfriend, Y/n.’ You always blushed when he called you that. The two guys extended their hands to shake yours. They introduced themselves as Tony Stark from star industries and Bruce Banner. But if this was a conversation on the collaboration between Oscorp and Star industries, why were you here? The only reason you could think of being that Norman wanted you to charm them into cooperation. Well, maybe he wanted you to just stand there and look pretty, but why wouldn’t you have some fun either?

The four of you stood in a circle conversing, Bruce on your left and Tony opposite you. Norman was still at your side, every now and then looking at you to make sure you weren’t doing anything. For the first part of the conversation you obliged, just talking about your boyfriends firm and why Stark industries would be a perfect collaboration.

Then the conversation turned more casual. Tony started talking about Pepper to Norman, who was now stuck listening to the stories of a lovesick man. Bruce was talking to you about his adventures in outer space.

‘No way! A spacecraft just for orgies?’ You repeat, loudly enough so Norman would hear too. You felt his head snap towards you. ‘What was that, dear?’ he asks.

‘Oh, nothing honey, just a story Bruce was telling me just now.’ You give him no more information than that, and it gets on his nerves. Perfect. Then Bruce tells you some more stories about his time with the avengers. A waiter passed your group, and you grab a glass of bubbles this time, already having a plan in mind to get the second strike.

As you listen to the men from Stark industries talking on and on about their avengers stuff, and how proud they were to keep the city safe, you put your plan in motion. You laughed at a joke one of the men made, putting your arm on Bruce’s shoulder. He also had had a few drinks and didn’t hesitate to put his hand on yours. Then as subtly as possible, you let a few drops of champagne spill when you take a sip, letting them drip down your chin and neck before asking Bruce for a napkin. Not Norman. Bruce. You felt your boyfriends eyes burn a hole in the back of your head so you turned around.

‘Norman? Is something wrong?’ you say innocently, actually letting Bruce dry you up with the cloth.

‘No, it is just getting late I think.’ He spoke in a low voice and his hand came up to scratch his chin again. Second strike, almost there.

You look down at Bruce, who had stopped cleaning when he came too close to your chest, noticing some dirty looks coming from the men beside you.

‘I’m just quickly going to clean this up.’ You said gesturing to your top half. The men all let you go without a further word, and you left them in an awkward silence. You, on the other hand, were grinning from ear to ear. Withing mere minutes you had pushed Norman so far that he had gotten so suspicious of anything you’d do he keeps looking around the whole evening.

You can sense he is almost at his breaking point. He just needs one last push… you walked into the bathroom, which is just a one stall room, and lock the door. You grab in your purse to re-do your make-up a bit, wanting this next part to be perfect. Then you start to clean the top, first with water, then adding some soap. To reach the water more easily you take the top off, that was it would also be easier to hold it under the dryer. You look at our reflection in the mirror and get a perfect idea.

Back at the party Norman had managed to pick a conversation back up with the guys from Stark industries, he had actually just managed to close the deal and they were celebrating with a round of bubbles. Then he felt his phone vibrate. Norman expected it to be Harry, texting him he was home safe as it was getting rather late, but he saw his son still dancing with Peter and MJ. He took a sip of his champagne, and promptly spat it out the moment he saw the picture you sent him. In the photo he could see you, freshly done make up, standing in front of the mirror in just the lingerie set he had picked out for you. He felt blood rush to his groin and a blush creep up his cheeks, eyes widening. His companions saw his shocked expression as he looked at his phone.

‘Mr. Osborn? Is everything alright?’ Tony asked.

‘Everything is fine, if you will excuse me for a moment gentleman’ he said downing his champagne in one go and putting the empty flute on the counter, ‘something has come up that requires my immediate attention.’ Norman gives the men one last forced smile before heading towards the restroom he knew you were in, walking past various people but paying them no mind.

It wasn’t long after you sent the picture that you heard a knock on the bathroom stall. Followed by Norman whisper shouting at you to ‘open the fucking door at one or I’ll kick it down’. You quickly put the dress back on and unlock the door. Before you have the chance to open it Norman yanks it open and walks in, pushing you back and quickly locking the door behind him.

‘That makes three, darling. What am I going to do with you now?’ he asks before kissing you roughly, pushing you even further back until your back hit the back wall of the room.

‘I think you need a quick reminder of who’s in control honey.’ His hand moves down your body as he kisses you deeply, leaving you utterly breathless. Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair. He hitches your dress up just enough to give him access to where you need him. His fingers sliding over your panties, the clothing a boundary between your core and his hand. He presses his fingers at the exact right spot, creating a good amount of friction despite your panties. He moves down to your entrance, feeling how soaked they already were.

‘Norman please’ you whimper out.

His fingers move back to your clit and run small but precise circles on it.

‘Hmmm you know better than that…’ he tuts at you. ‘What do you want.’ He asks.

You struggle to form words, the pressure he exercises on your core overloading your senses.

‘Please touch me, daddy.’ You moan out.

‘But I am touching you darling.’ He bites back, this was payback for your teasing, and you knew it. ‘Only good girls get what they ask for.’ He whispers in your ear as he moves the two of you around. You were standing with your hands on the sink, facing the mirror, as he quickly moves behind you, pinning your hands down on the sink. He looks you in the eyes in the mirror. All you can do is stare right back and moan as he presses his erection against your backside. Your actions of tonight definitely had the desired effect.

‘If you look away, I will stop, do you understand?’ his eyes are intense as he keeps his gaze on you, his hands moving between you and him, hitching your dress up to your waist and pulling his own wants down far enough to free his erection.

‘Yes, sir’, you whimper out as he removes your panties, putting them to the side and then pushing his erection through your folds, making you shiver. You were already very wet, but his size was something you could never get used to. Norman uses one hand to slowly guide his cock in you, your juices giving him a warm sensation pulling him further in. His other hand moves upwards you bend you over the sink, giving him better access to your dripping cunt. Your eyes closed in pleasure, feeling filled with his member rubbing inside you in just the right way. His hand moves from your back into your hair

‘Last warning, keep your eyes on me.’ He says before he starts pounding into you. You cry out in pain and pleasure, not fully adjusted to his size yet. The pain soon subsided as Norman keeps up his relentless pace, taking what he wants. You see him through the mirror, watching his eyes move between watching you in the mirror and making sure you kept your eyes there and looking down to see where your bodies connected, your juices dripping onto his dick.

You felt the coil in your belly tighten, you clasped down harder on him at the feeling of your approaching orgasm. You tightness made Norman lose it.

‘You are my little slut, you know that, right?’

‘Yes’, you answer, your eyes never leaving his. His pupils were dilated, and he looked feral, his hair which was normally slicked back now out of model, some hairs clinging to his sweaty forehead.

‘Yes what?’ he growls.

‘Yes, daddy.’

you feel him twitch before finishing inside you. The sensation was almost enough to send you over the edge, you just needed a bit more. You try to move back against him, chasing the pleasure you felt about to explode.

And then he pulls out of you. You can’t help but let out a cry of frustration, turning around quickly to face Norman.

‘What are you doing?’ you ask with wide ayes as he simply cleans up and pulls his pants back up, making no move to finish you off whatsoever.

‘I told you to behave, sweetheart, and you didn’t, so there must be consequences.’ He answers.

You look at him, shocked. Usually Norman would snap, you would fuck, and then you would go back to your evening. Apparently, he wants to drag this out even longer. You feel the unsatisfied sensation is your core, your clit begging to be touched and your core begging to be filled. But no relief came. Norman opened the tab, using the water to wash his hands and slick his hair back.

‘Don’t keep me waiting too long.’ He says with a wink before unlocking the door and sneaking out.

You snap out of your state of confusion, relocking the door and leaning with your back against it. You contemplate finishing yourself off for now, but Norman would know, you’d be gone for way too long. You feel a bit desperate now, quickly putting your ruined panties back on and pulling your dress back down. You glance at your reflection in the mirror, make-up still intact but hair messy as hell. You were lucky you brought a hair brush with you, trying to brush it down before re-joining the party as quickly as possible.

The strike system could start again, you could try and get to three again, sure. But you were so extremely dissatisfied now that you became the arm candy Norman had hoped your be all night. Still trying to get more physical contact from him every now and then, but never overstepping nay more boundaries. You kept quiet too, making people ask if everything was alright. You’d casually tell them you were just a bit tired. Every now and then you tried pushing your legs together to get rid of some of the pressure on your core, but it wasn’t enough.

You had to endure about an hour of this, before Norman finally had enough of the teasing. Just the idea of you being so turned on and the two of you just casually speaking with people while he just fucked you in the bathroom stall was enough to make him harden again. At first, he tried to ignore it, but with you trying to relieve the tension in your core, rubbing your legs together to get some friction, it was just too much. He casually announced to the group of people you were standing with that the two of you were heading home, and as quickly as possible you both said your goodbyes and left.

The ride in the car felt endless. You two didn’t want to traumatize the chauffeur so you sat in silence waiting to get home. The poor man probably thought you were fighting. On the way home Harry texted, saying he is staying at some chicks house, which was quite fortunate for the two of you. You nearly sprinted out of the car and to the door, Norman moving at the same speed to open the door for you. You both stepped in, and he threw the keys to the side.

Norman was quick to push you against the first wall he saw, his lips immediately going to attack you neck, nipping and licking at it leaving small hickeys. His hands once again hitch up your dress, this time pushing your underwear off your legs and running his fingers through your once again soaked folds. You moan out his name, clinging to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he teases you.

‘You want it so bad, don’t you?’

You nod. He retrieves his hand from your panties, keeping you on the edge but not wanting to push you over it just yet.

‘But do you think you deserve it after those tricks you pulled back there?’ his face close to yours, authority dripping from his gravely voice. Your voice catches in your throat, no answer comes out. He hums.

‘You can earn it, if you want…’ he continues, you nod greedily. The two of you move around so he is standing against the wall, and you kiss him. Even though he is the one backed against the wall he still remains in control, pushing on your shoulders to lower you to where he wants you. You push down his pants completely, releasing his cock. He was of average thickness but incredibly long, no way you’d ever fit him in your mouth completely. You drop one hand to your cunt, collecting your juices to lubricate your hand before brining it back up to his shaft. You pump him from the base to tip a few times with your hand before taking the tip in your mouth.

He moans your name, and his head falls back against the wall with a bang. You look up at him through your lashes, his hand comes up to the back of your head to set a pace, you obey. The strokes of your hand match the bobbing of your hand and in a few short moments you feel him getting closer. His breathing irregular and his cockiness gone.

Before you finish him off, he grabs your hair and pulls your mouth off him, bringing you back up to his level and kissing you deeply. The moment you melt in the kiss and let down your guard he swiftly lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing you into the wall. The impact made the air leave your body.

He lines himself up with your entrance once again and in a swift motion pushes into you. This time he gives you all the time to adjust and waits till you give him the okay to move, which you gladly do. He is quite literally pounding you into the wall, his thrusts fast and harsh, making you cry out.

‘So good to me.’ He mutters in your neck. ‘Tell me who you belong to.’

‘You, Norman.’ You breathe out between moans.

‘Good girl.’ He says and bites down the side of your neck, then he sucks a hickey in it which you were sure would be there for the next week or so. The sensation makes you cry out. All the while he keeps up his relentless pace. You quickly feel the coil in your belly tightening again, all your senses still heightened from all the events of the night.

‘Fuck, Norman, I’m close…’ you say as you feel your release approaching.

‘Cum for me, baby.’ His words send you right over the edge. You practically scream out his name as a very intense orgasm hits you, your legs shaking around his frame. His release follows suit, feeling and watching you come undone around him is more than enough to make him let go too. For a minute you stay like this, both of you catching your breath. When your legs finally stop shaking, he puts you back down on the ground.

‘Why don’t you run a shower for us darling? I’ll join you when I get things ready.’ He whispers against your lips, and you can only nod. He walks off towards your bedroom, probably getting things ready for when you’re done.

You mindlessly walk towards the shower, sliding open the door and starting the water. You slipped off your dress and looked at your expression in the mirror. You were in your bra and panties, looking fucked out already but not satisfied yet. A bead of sweat rolling down your forehead and neck from the events that just occurred. Your reflexion turned vague when the mirror starts fogging up, letting you know the water was reaching your preferred temperature. Then the door opened, and Norman walked in.

‘You didn’t have to wait for me, my pet.’ He says with a smile, eyeing you up and down. The red lace lingerie set matching your now smudged make up perfectly. The sight of you in the clothes he picked out and your hair all messy because of him made him even more feral than before.

‘I know, daddy,’ you say, walking towards him and pressing your body against his. He had already undressed, and you felt his semi-hard erection against your thigh. You snaked your arms around his neck to pull him down into a kiss. He hungrily returned it, both of you wanting nothing more than to be as close to each other as possible. ‘I think the shower is ready now.’ You mumble into his lips.

You guide his hand towards the clasp of your bra, which he undoes with ease. His hands move towards your breast, giving them a quick squeeze before moving down to your panties to remove those too, kissing your exposed skin wherever possible on the way down. He lets the garment fall down your legs onto the ground and you take a small step back. Then you take his hand, leading him into the shower.

You step in first, letting the water soak your hair and drip down your body. Norman lets out a growl, watching the water make your body glow in the light of the bathroom. Then you pull him in too. At first, he winces at the heat of the water, you usually shower at a hotter temperature than he does, but right now he doesn’t care.

He lets his hair soak until it’s slicked back and then he kisses you again. His hands land on your waist as yours went back around his neck. Suddenly Norman pushes you, moving you until you felt your back hit the cold shower wall. You moan out at the change of temperature, both in surprise and excitement. His hands on your bare hips making arousal once again pool between your legs.

‘You know, if you’d been a good girl, you would’ve gotten your reward earlier…’ he mutters in your ear. You eyes close against the dripping water and in pure pleasure.

‘I know,’ you say with your last functioning braincells, ‘but I like it better when you fuck me like this.’ You answer looking him right in the eye to see his reaction. His expression turns hungry at your words.

‘You are very bad, you know that right, baby girl?’ he moves his hand towards your core. Moving his finger towards your entrance to feel just how exited you were getting from this.

‘Yes, sir’ you answer, your head hitting the wall of the shower as his lips move to suck a mark into your neck you knew would still be there for some days. You moaned his name as he moved his finger from your entrance to your clit, never applying enough pressure to give you the friction you needed, but enough to make you feel something.

‘So wet, darling, all for me?’ he says with a smirk, knowing the answer.

‘All for you…’ you choke out between moans as his lips move from your neck to your breasts. His lips sucking at one while his unoccupied hand moves to the other.

‘Please…’ you moan out when he makes no move to actually give you what you need. He wants to hear you first.

‘Please what, darling?’ he asks, still sucking and nipping away at your nipples.

‘Please touch me’ you say, your mind stopping almost completely now.

‘As you wish, baby.’ With that he drops to his knees almost immediately, he wanted to taste you so bad by now, but you had to be the one to give in first. He grabbed your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, leaving you shaking on one leg. His hands went underneath you to cup your butt, keeping you up while squeezing your cheeks every now and then.

Then he dived in. he was hungry, his tongue moving across your clit expertly, knowing exactly what you like. You moaned out loudly, praying no one was in the house. Your hands flew to his head, twisting your fingers in his wet hair and pulling him closer. Your legs were already shaking, your clit still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

You looked down at him, and he was already staring up at you, a hungry look still in his eyes. You felt your high approaching, his tongue moving over your clit over and over again until you felt the coil in your stomach explode. Your leg was about to give out but his hands held you up as waves of pleasure crashed through you. You saw stars behind closed eyelids, and you moaned his name over and over again, forgetting how to speak. Your legs were shaking but Norman wasn’t stopping, he just kept going, holding you in place until the pleasure became bearable again. The sensation of your orgasm still lasted, and he replaced his tongue with his fingers, making sure you got as much pleasure as possible from your high.

You were an overstimulated mess by the time he moved back up your body, once again kissing every inch of skin he encountered along the way. You were still catching your breath when he kissed you passionately on your lips, trying to reciprocate the kiss but the need for air was too apparent. Norman saw and moved to kiss your cheeks and forehead instead, waiting for you to catch your breath. When you finally did, he kissed your lips again, moving you both back under the stream of water to warm back up.

Norman moved his hands to your waist, your body exhausted from what just happened. You scratched your nails over his chest, moving your hands down until one wrapped around his now painfully erect cock. You started stroking him and he started to moan in your mouth.

‘Sweetheart, you don’t have to.’ He said, not wanting to push you after such an intense night.

‘I know,’ you say, biting his lip softly making him gasp, ‘but I want to.’ You speed up your movements as his breath hitched in his throat. You kissed his jaw as your hand slid back and forth over his member, he was incredibly long. Your body, however, was satisfied, this was all about him. your hand keeps pumping him while your other hand moves back up his abs and chest to leave some scratch marks there.

The muscles of his torso bobbed at the scratching sensation and his head falls back, the sight of you naked and wanting to make him feel good overloads his brain. You scratch your hand down his torso and towards his abdomen, quickening the pace your other hand had set. He was close now, his cock twitching and the muscles in his lower belly clenching, it was a beautiful sight.

‘Daddy?’ You say innocently, making his head snap back to look at you, his pupils were dilated, and his breathing was ragged.

‘Fuck, Y/n’ was all he could get out, his mind fogged over.

‘Cum for me?’ you batted your eyes at him, leftover traces of mascara dripped down your cheeks. You looked messy, and Norman loved it. At your words he couldn’t help but let go. His cum spurts out onto your body, the water from the shower being quick to wash it off of you. You kept pumping him until he moved forward to hug you instead, letting you know he too was satisfied for tonight.

You both stand there in the shower just hugging each other for another minute or five before he moves to get a washcloth. As much as he enjoyed bossing you around all night with you making just that as difficult as possible, he also loved it when you went back to just being partners like now. He never skipped aftercare, always making sure you were okay after a night like this and that no boundaries were crossed.

He washed you off with the cloth, kissing you everywhere he could to let you know just how much you mean to him. Then he cleans himself too before he comes back to hold you, the two of you standing there, basking in the afterglow for a bit longer until the water turns cold and you both head for bed.

#Norman osborn x reader #norman osborn x you #green goblin x reader #green goblin x you #smut #willem dafoe

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pricetagofficial · 3 years

Text

Pair of Aces -H.D. [18+]

Warnings: Language, I made Harvey too hot for words, NSFW smut, drinking, smoking, car sex, self sex, oral sex, sex sex, Harvey is a gift giver, I don’t make the rules, fluff, raunchy jokes and humor, sexy drink names

Paring: Harvey Dent x Reader

Masterlist

Part One Part Three

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: This is the official/unofficial part two to Baby Doll. You can find it in the link above! After writing the first one, I had so many ideas that I wanted to do so I made another and here we are folks. 5.6k words of complete self indulgence. Blame Elle, (who also made this fabulous banner for me, love you!)

Harvey had his arm draped over your shoulders, keeping you within reach. Sure, this was supposed to be a friendly poker game but that didn't mean he trusted these fuckers with being within ten feet of you.

It really didn't help that you dressed the way you did. The short leather skirt alone was enough to kill him. But when he saw the white sleeveless crop top with a golden chain laced across exposing your breasts, he swore his heart stopped.

Pressed close to Harvey's side, you shivered feeling the chain brush against your skin. You could feel several pairs of eyes trail over your body, only making Harvey tighten his hold on you.

The game was supposed to be between Harvey, Roman Sionis, and Oswald Cobblepott. Once a month, the three men put aside their differences for a couple of games of poker. No business was allowed, except potential info against a common enemy usually centered around a particular bat-obsessed freak.

The door at the end of the hall had several men standing guard, looking down at you and Harvey.

“There was nothing about bringing a guest,” one said.

“Didn’t want to leave her all alone, thought she could learn something tonight,” Harvey explained, tightening his grip on your waist. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, daring the guards to try and pry you away from him.

The larger one huffed and crossed his arms, a grin on his face. “We’ll have to pat you down before letting you in.”

Releasing his hold on you, Harvey stepped forward with his hands up as the guard patted down his chest and legs to make sure he isn’t hiding anything suspicious. Finding the gun in his coat, the guard gave Harvey a look before he raised a brow.

“Gotta protect my girl somehow,” he said, looking at him. “You never know the kind of creeps are out there.”

The guard shrugged and let him pass, putting a hand out to stop you from following him.

“Hey! You did your inspection, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The guard’s grin got wider, his eyes hiding something malicious in them. “I said I had to pat you down, both of you.”

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit,” he growled, stepping back to protect you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed his cheek.

“Relax baby, I’ll be alright,” you assured, stepping back and putting your hands in the air. You felt the guard’s hands start on your waist and make their way up your torso, moving to grab your breasts. Before he could, you lifted your foot and slammed the heel of your stiletto into his foot.

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you frowned, listening to the guard hiss at the pain before finishing up and letting you through.

Harvey chuckled, watching you handle yourself before grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest. Placing a kiss on your lips, he opened the door and led you in.

The room was filled with smoke from cigars and cigarettes galore, and there was a bad smell in the air that reminded you of the gym locker rooms. It smelled of sweat, meat, and something else you didn’t want to linger on.

Harvey’s eyes raked the room, eyeing Roman and Oswald already sitting in their chairs having what seemed to be a friendly chat. Walking further into the room, Harvey pulled out his chair and sat.

“Sorry it took so long boys, had some personal matters to attend to,” he said, unbuttoning his coat and pulling out a cigarette. He looked at you, an expectant look on his face.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned over his body the leather skirt riding up your ass. Reaching into his coat, you pulled out the lighter and lit the cig in his mouth. He knew you hated it when he smoked, but he couldn’t deny how unbelievably hot it was to watch you light them for him.

Taking a drag, he blew out the smoke, his eyes not leaving you. “Thanks, baby doll,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. Glancing to the side, he didn’t miss the looks Roman and Oswald were giving you. Wanting to prove that you were untouchable, he reached forward toying with the golden chain of your top.

“Why don’t you go get daddy a drink?” he asked, brushing the skin of your breasts with his finger ever so lightly.

“Yes sir, Mr. Dent.” you winked, standing straight. As you turned to pour him a drink, Harvey grinned and slapped your ass, earning a light squeal from you.

Roman’s eyes narrowed in on the sway of your ass as you walked, what he wouldn’t give for an hour alone with you. Leaning on the arm of his chair, his gaze raked over your body lingering on your exposed breasts. He swore Dent brought you along just to brag, not that he would complain. The sweet image of you bent over the arm of the chair was enough to satiate his wants for the time being.

Harvey narrowed his eyes, “Something on your mind Sionis?”

You walked back over, Harvey’s scotch in your hand not ignoring the looks all the men in the room were giving you. Taking a sip of it yourself, you handed it to him, your lipstick staining the glass.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with an ugly bastard like Harv?” Roman asked, a grin forming on his face.

“More than you could ever imagine,” Harvey responded, glaring him down.

Roman leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes watching you intently. Snapping his fingers to get your attention, he grinned. “How about a Kinky Blow Job, princess.”

Harvey looked as if he was about to explode, gripping the arms of the chair he was in. Roman caught his gaze, not missing your flustered state at his bold request. “I mean the drink, Dent. Your girl should know how to do a Kinky Blow Job right? Or were those personal matters over a Juicy Pussy?”

Not wanting to be rude, you walked over and made the drink Roman requested. If you weren’t so well versed in various drink names this would have been a very awkward position. Mixing the pink drink, you put a straw in it before making your way over to Roman.

His gaze alone was enough to give you shivers, Roman watched your movements like he was waiting for the right time to strike and make you his meal.

“Here you go, Mr. Sionis.”

Roman reached for the drink, his cold hand brushing yours ever so slightly sending shivers down your spine. “What’s the matter, princess, too cold? I know a way or two to warm my fingers up.” he winked.

Pulling your hand back, you could feel Harvey burning holes into Roman’s chest as he continued to openly flirt with you not bothering to turn his gaze away from your exposed chest.

“Will that be all, Mr. Sionis?” you asked, clasping your hands behind your back.

Deciding he had enough fun, he waved you away before looking at Harvey. “Such a polite little thing, how long did it take you to train her?” he asked, sipping his drink.

The second you were close enough, Harvey grabbed your waist and pulled you down to rest on his knee. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he threatened, placing a kiss to the back of your throat. Your hand came to rest on his knee, squeezing gently as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder enough to leave a mark.

“It’s a joke, Dent.” Roman chuckled, “Lighten up some,”

You felt his hand wrap around your middle, securing you against his chest resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Both of ya, shut the ‘ell up and play the fuckin’ game!” Oswald snapped, dueling out the cards. “Buch o’ bloody wankers.”

Picking up the cards dealt to him, Harvey kept you close. There was no way in hell he was letting anyone, especially Roman get their grubby hands on you. Looking at his cards, he reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of bills.

“Put half of that on the table for me baby doll,” he said, eyeing you as your body arched over to toss half the wad on the table. Handing it back to him, he took the bills, grinning as he stuffed them into your top. “Why don’t you keep that safe for me?”

“Yes, sir Mr. Dent.” you breathed, feeling his fingers lightly brush against your nipples through the top.

Content with your reaction, Harvey leaned back in his seat as you turned and draped your legs across his lap. Placing his hand on your knees, he pulled you close. Watching his hand, he glanced at the other two before setting his cards down.

“What’s with that look Dent, confident or scared you’ll lose?” Roman called, glancing up from his cards.

“What, worried you’ll lose to me?”

“I thought you liked to leave things to chance or was that all an act?”

Harvey didn’t like the fact Roman was trying to goad him into betting more money. Looking at his cards again, he still had a high chance to win. Turning to look at you, Harvey slid a finger into your top and pulled it back enough to pull out the bills and toss them onto the table.

You weren’t happy he fell for Roman’s obvious ploy at trying to rile him up. These poker games were meant to be simple fun between crime lords, but you knew how dangerous they could be. One second they were betting money, and the second someone’s ego got fluffed they gambled away their firstborn child.

Hours passed, and you watched as they played through three games already and dealt out the fourth and final round. Each man won a round each, and this one was to take home the cake to prove who was the best poker player. Roman had a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you didn’t like the results that could come of that.

Oswald was oddly the most generous of the three, offering you free champagne and even a platter of sandwiches that were prepared just for you.

Harvey however, refused to let you off his lap. He worried the second he let go, you would disappear. It said a lot when he didn’t trust his own men with you, but he trusted Roman and Oswald’s men even less.

“Final round boys, ‘ow ‘bout we up the stakes?” Oswald asked, tossing the final few cards.

Roman grinned, his teeth a shocking white against the dark of the room. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a folded piece of paper with his handwriting scrawled across it. “One free night with any girl of your choosing from my club.” Tossing the paper onto the table, his gaze turned to Oswald.

“Up that, you old bird.”

“Shut up!” Oswald thought long and hard, he didn’t have anything like that to bet. He didn’t dabble in sex clubs or prostitutes. He had more class than that, but he did have something a lot of people sought after.

Pulling a piece of paper out, he wrote his offer illegible from your distance. True to form, Oswald Cobblepott had chicken scratch handwriting.

“One free night, in the private secluded box in the Iceberg Lounge. Enough for you and two guests.”

Nodding appreciatively, Roman smiled and turned his gaze to you and Harvey. His smile didn’t waver one bit, as if he knew what was about to happen next. “What are you going to bet, Dent? It seems money isn’t an option, fuck knows we have plenty of it.”

“He could bet tha’ little ‘ore of ‘is?”

Harvey’s grip tightened on your waist, holding you protectively against him.

“What’s the matter Dent, I thought you were confident in your card skills?” Roman grinned, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“No.” he growled. “She isn’t for sale.”

“Oh come on Dent, why don’ you let the coin decide?” Oswald chuckled, knowing full well what Harvey would do.

You watched as he reached into his pocket, toying with his coin between his fingers.

“Harvey, you can’t be serious?” you asked, muttering into his ear. “I thought you said I wasn’t for sale, remember?”

“Relax doll,” he said, turning his gaze to you. Harvey knew it was reckless, but he couldn’t refuse what the coin decides. “Have a little faith in me,”

You watched with wide eyes as he set the standard. Heads, it was a no. Tails, you were to be placed on the betting table. The deal was one night, equal to that of the others and you had more than monetary value to Harvey. Or so you hoped.

Flipping the coin, you held your breath watching as he caught it and flipped it onto the back of his hand to reveal the damaged side of his double-sided coin.

Your voice died in your throat, looking at him with a concerned look.

“You fucking asshole,” you snapped getting off his lap to stand behind him. There was no way you could watch this hand play out, not when your virtue was on the line.

“Now that the bets have been placed, let’s play some cards, boys.” Roman grinned and began the round, his eyes not leaving your figure once.

The next twenty minutes were some of the most agonizing twenty minutes of your life. You watched in worry as Harvey played the game. His hand was pretty good, but did that mean it was better than the others? At some point, you had to stop watching, the anxiety making it too much to bear knowing your fate rested in the cards. Biting your nail, you watched as they finally folded and waited for the results.

Oswald flipped his card, showing that he had a full house. Not bad, but there were higher hands to play that could win.

Roman chuckled, flipping his cards over to reveal a four of a kind all in diamonds. That was a pretty damn good hand, if Harvey didn’t have a better hand it seemed you would be going home with Roman Sionis spending your night filled with Kinky Blow Jobs and Juicy Pussies. You couldn’t deny the man oozed sex appeal, but you wanted it on your terms and not from a fucking poker game.

Clenching your fists, you watched as Harvey tsked and turned his cards to reveal a straight flush. “Sorry boys, but Y/N is going home with me tonight.”

You watched Roman clench his jaw, irritated at the fact he lost a night with you all to himself. Getting from his seat, he put a hand in his pocket and adjusted his cigar. “Well played Dent, next time maybe you won’t be so lucky.”

Both Oswald and Harvey got to their feet and shook hands. “Good game gentlemen, same time next month?”

Harvey put all of his stuff into a bag before walking over to you. He didn’t miss the glare you were giving him, nor did he miss the way Roman sauntered up to you taking your hand and pulling you closer.

“Such a shame to miss out on a night with you, princess. Maybe Dent will bring you along again next time and we’ll see what happens then.” He pulled your hand up to his lips, placing a kiss to your smooth skin.

Giving him a hard glare, you bit your cheek. “You may be nice on the eyes Mr. Sionis, but you might want to remember you can’t buy the best things in life.” you snapped, pulling your hand away. “And I don’t come cheap.”

Harvey bit his lip to hide his chuckle at the sight of Roman’s face. Walking over he wrapped an arm around your waist, planting a hand firmly on your ass. He knew you were pissed at him, it seemed he had a lot to make up for.

“Later boys,” he called walking out with you on his side. As a silent promise, his large hand gripped your ass roughly while you walked, the skirt riding up to expose the underside of your cheek and black thong.

“That fucker,” Roman growled, walking out himself.

***

Harvey led you back to the car, where your driver and security detail waited.

“You have a lot of groveling ahead of you Dent if you even think about sleeping in the same bed tonight.”

Leaning to press soft kisses to your throat, Harvey wrapped both arms around you as he kissed your collar. “How about I start right now,” he muttered against your skin. “I know how much you love being fucked in the backseat.”

Gripping his hair, you tipped your head back breathing heavily from his onslaught of kisses and public display. His hands wandered lower, toying with the bottom of your skirt as he pressed you against the car door.

“You’re lucky you’re hot.”

Harvey grinned against your skin, before looking at the driver. “You go ahead with security, I have some business to attend to.” he grabbed the keys and unlocked the door, pulling away long enough to watch you slide in and spread your legs for him to see your dripping cunt on full display to him and anyone else around. Sucking in a harsh breath, he dove in after you and shut the door, locking it behind him.

His lips were on yours in an instant, hips prying your legs further apart, the skirt bunched up to give him access. Harvey mumbled soft apologies against your skin as he left open-mouthed kisses across your collar. His hands danced across your thighs, as they made their way up to your pussy.

Letting out a sigh, you arched your back feeling him swipe through your folds moaning at the sudden contact. His fingers entered into you, quickly stretching your hole to accommodate his cock to impatient to take his time with you.

Gripping the leather of the seat, you moaned his name. “Harvey! Please!”

Hearing your cries, his hand continued to thrust in and out of your pussy before pulling back and undoing his belt. Quick to pull out his cock, he fisted it several times watching you writhe and drip onto the leather beneath you.

“Hold on baby doll,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you.” Gripping your hips, Harvey pushed your thong to the side and thrusted into you, bottoming out in two strokes.

Your body spasmed, trying to take in all you were feeling. Sinful moans left your lips feeling him stretch you perfectly as he picked up the pace. All you could hear over your ragged breath was Harvey’s hushed apologies as his hips rutted into yours followed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

You could feel the car rock back and forth from the force of his thrusts, Harvey desperate to make you cum. Reaching down, his thumb played with your clit making you tip your head back and kick against the door.

“Oh fuck, Harvey!” you cried, gripping the back of his shirt. “I-I’m so close, baby. So close.”

Hearing you gasp for air, Harvey thrusted harder into you knocking the air back out of your lungs watching as silent moans left your perfect lips. Your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back at the feeling of Harvey driving into you.

Swearing as your walls clench around him, Harvey moaned your name, continuing his pace. “You look so perfect,” he praised. “So fucking perfect as your pretty pussy takes my cock.”

Feeling the build-up, your thighs tensed around his waist while you clawed at his shirt.

“Fuck! Harvey, I’m gonna--” your words were cut off by a loud moan as you came on his cock, feeling it drip down your exposed ass.

Thrusting into you twice more, Harvey buried his cock inside you as he came, marking you as his as your mixed juices pooled beneath you. The smell of sex filled the car, as he continued to place kisses all over your body.

Panting heavily, you pulled his head up to kiss him. “Oh fuck…” you muttered, resting back against the car seats. Harvey looked down at you, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“Let me take you home doll, really make it up to you.”

Barely hearing his words, you nodded and closed your eyes. Feeling him pull out of you, you whined at the loss of contact before feeling his lips on your neck. Letting out a hiss, you tilted your head to the side feeling him suck the skin between his teeth really marking you as his this time.

Tucking himself back into his pants, Harvey climbed into the front seat and started the car before driving off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw you splayed across the back seat recovering from the orgasm he just gave you. He saw your lipstick smeared across his lips, chuckling at the thought of how fucked out he must look.

You could still feel the ache Harvey left between your legs, begging to be used again. Reaching down, you slipped two fingers into your pussy trying to convince yourself that it was Harvey. The ache resided some, but it wasn't enough.

“Harvey…” you whined, bucking your hips into your hand. “Please!”

Glancing at you in the mirror, Harvey swallowed hard as he watched your toy with yourself while begging for him. “I’m going doll, wait until we get home.” his voice strained, trying to keep himself from driving into traffic.

Sliding a hand up, you gripped your own breast and played with your nipple through the top, continuing to finger yourself. “I want to feel you, baby, please! It’s too much!”

Going faster than the speed limit, Harvey palmed his growing bulge as he listened to the squelching of your fingers pumping your mixed juices back into you. With every whine and moan, his pants got tighter until it was so painful he couldn’t focus.

Pulling into the garage, he all but jumped out of the car before walking over to the door and pulling it open to see you fucking yourself until you came. Loud moans left your lips, echoing across the garage as Harvey watched you pull your fingers out and lick them clean.

“Holy fucking shit doll,” he muttered, pulling you out of the car. Kicking the door shut, he helped you balance on your feet before leading you up to the bedroom, his hands not leaving your body once.

“When we get there, I’ll make it all up to you,” he promised, muttering against your shoulder. “I’ll worship every inch of you, give you a special gift and everything.” His hands roamed your body, reveling in the way you shivered under his touch. He’ll make you forget all about his stupid bet, and make you feel so good you won’t want to leave the bed.

Leaning into his touch, you walked with him as he opened the door. “You still have a lot of apologizing left to do, better get started.”

Harvey hummed into your shoulder, leading you towards the bedroom of your lavish apartment. Entering the room, he led you to the mirror and held you against his chest. You watched his hands as they traveled up your body before grabbing your breasts through your top and giving them a tight squeeze.

“You’ve been teasing me all night with this fucking top,” he grumbled, listening to your airy breaths as he played with your breasts. “Who the fuck thought it was legal to sell you this shirt?”

“The sales per-person,” you gasped, leaning into his touch. Feeling him pinch your nipples, you hissed pressing your ass into his crotch.

Keeping a hand on your breasts, the other slid down your body sending little bolts of electricity everywhere he touched you. “And this fucking skirt, so fucking tight around your little ass everyone was looking at what belongs to me.”

His lips trailed from your shoulder up to your cheek, not taking his eyes from your flustered form. You could see his eyes burning into yours as you turned your face to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

You felt his hands slide the skirt off of you, the leather pooling at your feet. Trailing over the soft skin of your stomach, he pulled at the top trying to get it off you. You could tell Harvey was getting impatient, so you pulled away from the kiss and guided his hands into taking it off your body.

Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your black thong and heels, you couldn’t help but admire Harvey’s hands as they traced over every inch of you he could reach. Slowly, you stepped out of your heels as Harvey’s fingers dipped into the straps and began to pull the thong down your hips.

Kneeling as he pulled it down, Harvey nipped lightly at your ass causing you to jump in surprise letting out a little squeal. Chuckling at your surprise, Harvey got back on his feet turning you to look at him.

“How about a present for the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen?” he asked, holding you against him.

Biting your lip, you gave him a nod as he led you over to the bed and made you sit.

“Stay put,” then he walked off and disappeared to get whatever it was he was going to give you.

It took a few minutes for him to come back, holding three boxes all wrapped in deep red bows. What could Harvey have gotten you this time? The last time he decided to give you something, it was the deed to a whole island that he named after you.

No one got to see this side of Harvey Dent, the side that truly loved you and strived to prove it with extravagant gifts, expensive trips, and more.

Giving him a playful look, You watched as he knelt before you and placed the boxes at your feet. Pressing a kiss to your knee, he handed you the first box. “Go ahead, open it.”

Taking the package from his hands, you lifted the top off and pushed back the tissue paper. Pulling the item out, you saw that it was a black and white lace lingerie set, complete with garter belts. Holding it up, you looked at Harvey to see his delight in you liking the first gift.

“Oh Harvey, it’s beautiful.” you praised holding it against the expanse of your body.

“I’d say try it on, but why don’t we save it for another night?” he chuckled, watching you move the box to the side only for him to place another on your lap.

Giving him a look, you could tell this one was heavier than the last and that probably meant it cost more. Pulling off the lid and unwrapping it, you saw that it was a beautiful necklace with several strands of pearls strung across.

You gasped, holding it up and looking at him. “Harvey, what did I say about expensive gifts?”

“That cost nowhere as much as the island.” he smiled. “I thought I could get some pearls for my favorite girl.” Leaning up, he took it from you and clasped it around your neck watching as they cascaded down your chest and over your breasts.

“Perfect,” he muttered, kissing your cheek.

Turning your head to meet his lips, you pulled him into a kiss running your fingers through his hair. The cold pearls sent shivers across your body as Harvey pressed himself against you. “Baby doll-- fuck.” he chuckled, feeling your hands trail over his chest trying to unbutton his shirt. “I still have one more present for you,”

“That can wait until you’re done apologizing,” you grinned, sliding his shirt off his shoulders.

Harvey gripped your waist, lifting you higher onto the bed as he crawled over you. “I was hoping you’d use it as an apology,” he groaned against your lips as you continued to undress him.

Your fingers danced along the waist of his pants as you unbuttoned them, sliding them down his legs. Raking your nails over his exposed skin, you helped him out of his pants and boxers moaning as you felt his mouth kiss everywhere he could reach.

Moving down your body, he kissed every inch until he got to your hips. Nuzzling your skin, he bit into you leaving teeth marks on your hip. Harvey loved to see you all marked up, further proving that you belonged to him and no one else.

Making his way further down, he propped your thighs over his shoulders and sucked on the supple skin enjoying the taste of your mixed juices and sweat. Leaving a trail of bruises up your thigh, Harvey licked between your folds holding your hips down as you cried out.

“Oh, Harvey!” Your hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer as he continued to lick you clean. Your hips continued to move against his face, as he brushed your clit with his nose.

Harvey’s tongue sent jolts all through your body, overwhelmed by the feeling of his ministrations through your folds. Your toes curled, feeling him enter a finger into you slowly pumping it in and out of you.

Moaning against your cunt, Harvey added a second finger pumping them in and out of you at a sensual pace wanting you to feel every bit of it.

“Please!” you gasped, pulling at his hair. “Please don’t stop,”

Hearing you beg made him chuckle, the vibrations against your clit sending you closer and closer to the edge. Between his warm tongue and cool fingers, Harvey had you dangling over the cliff as if he was daring you to let go.

You let out a scream feeling him brush the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers, massaging it until your throat was raw from your screaming. Glancing up at you, Harvey grinned seeing you so lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck!” you tugged on his hair harshly, earning a soft moan from his lips sending more little shocks into you as he laid claim to your pussy. “Harvey! Baby-- oh! Don’t stop!” you pleaded, digging your heels into his back.

Curing his fingers again, he felt your walls spasm around him as you came coating his hand and face in your juices. Your voice echoed around the room from crying out his name, relaxing back into the bed.

Harvey’s face was still buried between your thighs, refusing to quit.

“Come on doll, cum on my face again.” he groaned, peeking up at you. You looked to see your cum smeared across his lips and chin, continuing to finger you trying to coax your body into another orgasm.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, getting back to it. You couldn’t hear much over the ringing in your ears, but you swore you heard the words ‘favorite meal’ leave his lips as he licked you clean.

“H-Harv-- oh fuck! I-I can’t..” you whined, feeling yourself being brought up again.

“You can do it, I know you can baby doll.” he muttered against your body, “Give me another, and I’ll fuck you properly until you beg me to stop.”

His words made your head swim, the thought of his cock buried within you while feeling like this was enough to make you cum again, screaming his name.

Harvey lapped up every drop he could, making sure he licked your pussy clean only for him to defile it again. Unable to take anymore, you pulled his head up and over to kiss you. You could taste your arousal on his tongue as it mingled with yours in your mouth.

His hands placed themselves on your breasts, kneading them as the pearls rolled around his hands and towards your cleavage. Harvey enjoyed seeing you wear nothing but the pearls, as they bounced around your breasts while you moved.

Not wanting to waste another second, Harvey lifted his hips before thrusting into you again. Your tight cunt was enough to make his hips stutter, feeling your velvet walls wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck doll,” he muttered against your lips. “You feel so fuckin--” his breath caught in his throat feeling you pulse around his shaft, cutting off his words before picking up the pace. You were nothing more than a blissful fucked out mess as Harvey continued to drive his hips into yours.

Feeling the ecstasy build up, you dug your nails into his back leaving marks that would last for days.

“Harvey!”

Not able to get out anything but his name, your body succumbed to the intense feeling as another orgasm took over you leaving you gasping for air.

Burying his face in your shoulder, Harvey continued to thrust into you before cumming deep within you. Unable to take anymore, he let his body collapse against yours, melting together covered in sweat and cum.

Brushing your hair out of your eyes, he cupped your face and looked at you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and Harvey would never understand what you saw in an asshole like him. Carefully, he lifted his hips and pulled out before lying next to you.

Turning your head, you gave him a soft smile and kissed his lips. Wrapping his arms around you, Harvey pulled you close enjoying the warmth of your body.

“Did I do good enough?” he asked, brushing his lips against yours.

“Apology accepted,”

Taglist: @catxsnow @niggxrette @subtleappreciation @littleredwing89 @offendedfishnoises @angstigone @batarella @alienstardust @illzarr @foenixphire

#Costly Affairs #harvey dent x reader #harvey dent #harvey dent x you #harvey dent imagine #harvey dent smut #two face #two face x reader #two face x you #two face imagine #two face x reader insert #two face smut

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

orbit, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and (maybe) get an education. And Jeon Jungkook could do all those things. It was great. Until the moment he encounters an inescapable gravity, the kind of gravity that had already trapped all six of his friends... but left him out in orbit, circling alone.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (too much) alcohol consumption, slow burn; smut (fem reader, dry humping, m-receiving oral, striptease, cock-warming, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - university!AU; a LOT of buildup; longhaired!Jungkook likes getting his hair pulled a little too much; Jungkook’s POV Technically BTS x reader, but we’re focusing on JK. :)

“Hey, you’re Jeon Jungkook, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

The slim, pretty hand slid into her backpack and she held out an iPhone to him.

“You’re friends with Kim Taehyung, right?” Her voice seemed a little hoarse. She was wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “He left his cell at my place.”

Jungkook took it from her, frowning. “Ah, he’s not usually that forgetful.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wanted someone trustworthy to give it back to him.”

That was their first conversation.

When Jeon Jungkook entered university, he knew it was going to be different from high school. Bigger classes, more work, and completely monotone teachers as he struggled to stay awake during mandatory studies like Physics. What adult in real life uses physics anyway (besides physicists, of course)? At least he went to the same university all his friends went to, either as undergrads or as graduate students. Being with his friends was awesome.

Being smashed with his friends was even better.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the corner of the party. It was at someone’s house with way too many people in it and everyone only vaguely knew the host. He was celebrating the first complete week of university by getting absolutely plastered (as one does). He noticed her right away because she was wearing a thick black choker with a silver ring on it and an oversized band tee. She wore a gray flannel over it like a jacket. Chunky combat boots, very different from the other girls in their high heels. The sharpest black eyeliner he had ever seen, paired with a red-stained lip.

She was also taking shots.

Surrounded by guys, in some sort of contest. She was throwing them back and two guys were beside her at a table, absolutely fucked. Heads on the table, unable to touch their shots, looking green. She clinked her glass down triumphantly and slammed her hand on the table, curling the other towards her.

Jungkook watched as money was slapped on the table.

She grinned and gathered it towards her, pocketing it in her flannel’s chest pocket.

“Nice try, boys.”

Jungkook looked away, quite impressed. Then Park Jimin fell over at something Kim Taehyung said and Jungkook had to catch the smaller man. He was laughing way too hard that something only mildly funny, but everyone was laughing because they were losing it. The night went on. Someone had retrieved a beach ball from the backyard and was throwing it around the party, making a fucking mess. The beach ball bounced off of Min Yoongi’s red face. He looked incredibly disgruntled and Jung Hoseok lost it, rubbing Yoongi’s nose soothingly even though he wasn’t hurt. Kim Seokjin threw it back into the chaos by headbutting it.

And Kim Namjoon was nowhere to be found.

Jungkook frowned. Also, he needed to pee. He yelled around for the bathroom and someone pointed in some random direction. Jungkook followed it, his bladder ready to explode. Eh, if worse came to worse he could just find a random bush in the backyard or something. He opened random doors, but they either had more people or people in various stages of fucking. Then he saw the open bathroom door down the hallway and two people two feet away from the doorframe.

The two people being Kim Namjoon and the young woman he saw earlier.

Namjoon had his fingers curled around the silver ring on the choker, pulling down as he pressed her against the wall, making out with her exposed shoulder. His beige sweatshirt already had a red kiss print on the collar, paired with a purple hickey. Her palms were pressed flat, snickering as Namjoon rolled his hips into her ass.

Jungkook turned around and decided to find a fucking bush.

The second time he saw her, she was wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt, no pants, scratching the back of her head. Black ankle boots with black thigh-high stockings. He was at the dining hall, waiting in line. She sat at the of the tables, across Jung Hoseok. Even though it was the middle of the day, she still wore sharp black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain. She was nodding, one of her hands playing with Hoseok’s pastel tracksuit sleeve. Hoseok was blushing, looking a little sheepish. She just shook her head and said something. Hoseok’s cheeks grew redder and she leaned over.

And kissed him.

Jungkook blinked. The cashier snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Oh! Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

When he looked back, the table as empty.

The third time he saw her, he was at the club. He was knee-deep in an argument with Kim Taehyung about how building Iceborn Gauntlet was a lot more useful on Ezreal than Triforce because it allowed you to get off more autoattacks with the slows and helped you survive with the extra armor. Plus, the twenty-percent cooldown! Taehyung was rolling his eyes and telling him building damage was much better.

“Then build Infinity Edge if all you care about is damage!” Jungkook roared.

Park Jimin’s eyes were glazing over. “Guys, can we stop talking about League of Legends? I have no idea what you’re saying anymore…”

She caught his eye because she was wearing a pastel track jacket with a black t-shirt dress under it. And because she was pressed against Kim Seokjin in a booth, making his ears red as he spoke to her. The same sharp winged liner and a wine-red lipstick. She hooked a bare leg over Seokjin’s jeans. The older man jumped, but didn’t push it away. The silver tipped toe of her black boots rubbed against his other leg as she smiled. Her hand was on his navy t-shirt, tracing the embroidered white flowers. She placed her lips against Seokjin’s ear and whispered something. Seokjin’s plump lips opened into a small ‘o’. Her pink tongue slid out from between her lips and she licked his earlobe. Seokjin turned his head sharply to face her.

And she kissed him.

“Hah, here, got you a beer.”

Taehyung clinked the beer bottle down, still pouting. “I still think you’re wrong, but for Jimin’s sake I’ll shut up about it.”

Jimin whined. “Thank God, because I was starting to fucking lose it.”

When Jungkook remembered to look back at the booth, Seokjin and her were no longer there.

The fourth time he saw her, Jungkook was pissed.

He had gone to bathroom and came back to no friends. The fuck? Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had just fucking disappeared. Like, yes, Jungkook had to throw up to prevent himself from getting alcohol poisoning and had taken longer than he anticipated, but still. What month of university was this? Whatever, not late enough to get fucking abandoned. He could understand if one of them was trying to get laid, but they were not drunk enough to forget he existed without so much as a text.

Earlier, Jungkook had been dared to shotgun way too many beers in a row compared to the amount of money he won. He still won though, so that was lit.

Anyway!

He had to throw up because it was disgusting. And now he felt much better, except for the fact that his friends were fucking gone. Dumbasses.

This party house was much bigger, much louder, and much rowdier. Whoever owned this house was loaded and they had tons of alcohol. Jungkook even swore he had seen drugs, but his friends told him to be careful and not fuck around. Getting expelled wasn’t on Jungkook’s list of things to do anyway, so he didn’t even bother to look.

Instead, he went on a familiar routine of opening random ass doors to random ass people, either way too drunk to notice him or way too occupied with fucking to care about his existence. Whatever. Where the fuck were those two loons?

And then he opened the door Jimin and Taehyung were behind.

They didn’t see him. Jimin’s head was tipped back against the headboard of the king-sized bed, hands clasping the hair of a woman Jungkook was beginning to see way too often. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, and her head was between Jimin’s legs, her hands clutching his pink dress shirt and Taehyung railed her from behind, eyes closed, white t-shirt drenched with sweat. The rough movements made her shirt flutter. Jungkook spied the white, embroidered flowers amongst the navy folds.

Jungkook closed the door and decided it was time to go home. Fuck those guys.

Not literally.

Well, it was happening right now. Technically.

Jungkook sighed and marched back downstairs, trying to figure out how he was going to scrub his eyeballs to erase the image from his mind forever.

Jungkook liked to hang out at Min Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi didn’t live in the dorms because he was older and a grad student. Jungkook often went there to study because Yoongi practiced piano and guitar all the time. It was nice to study to some background music. Yoongi usually didn’t care if he was there or not. He had opened the door in a dark gray t-shirt with a skull graphic, yawning. The shorter man looked even shorter in his baggy black sweatpants.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yoongi mumbled. “Come in.”

Jungkook made himself at home, taking out his papers and textbooks on Yoongi’s coffee table. Yoongi busied himself around the apartment, making himself a coffee before going back to his bedroom which was also a makeshift studio. Soon, Jungkook began to hear synth beats, samples, and Yoongi’s pensive noises he made when he was thinking. This was fine too. Yoongi also often mixed music or was in the middle of making his own. Jungkook missed the piano, but rapper Yoongi was just as cool as piano Yoongi.

Jungkook stayed there for a while. Yoongi bought him lamb skewers for dinner. Sweet.

Maybe he shouldn’t party so much. This was nice too.

And now, a week later, Jungkook was staring at the same dark grey t-shirt he had seen that night at Yoongi’s. He was sure it was the same one, because he could see the skull graphic on the center of the shirt underneath her leather jacket. He tilted his head and frowned. She nodded and turned around, walking away from him. She didn’t say anything more.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung’s iPhone and then at her retreating back.

The fuck?

So, he waited.

Clearly, she knew who he was, because she had said his full name when they talked. Jungkook was going to ask Taehyung when he returned the phone, but Taehyung had just shrugged.

“Just hanging out. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet it was the end of the semester and…

Nothing.

The next semester started and still.

Nothing.

Jungkook saw her all right, wearing a pink dress shirt over a white t-shirt as she walked to the library, black backpack slung over her shoulder. Not just there, but fucking everywhere, at all the parties, all the clubs, in the hallways, and on his way to class. Wearing the clothes of his friends like they were badges of her conquests. They had to be, otherwise why the fuck would she have them? And none of his friends said anything. Nothing! Obviously, every single one of them had hooked up with this woman and every single one of them acted like they hadn’t. Even Min Yoongi, who was too lazy to even go to most of the parties or outings. How she had managed to bang him was beyond Jungkook.

And the fact that she didn’t even try to hook up with him was beginning to infuriate him.

He knew he wasn’t ugly. Jungkook received enough compliments to assure himself of that (plus his mom always reminded him, thanks Mom). He had drunken sex just like everyone else. It wasn’t like he didn’t make himself available. He was in her vicinity. In her orbit. Always on the periphery.

And she did nothing to acknowledge his existence.

Why?

Jungkook didn’t get it. And he didn’t like it either.

“Newton’s law of orbital motion.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glazing over. His professor’s voice was the equivalence of white noise. Why was Physics split over two semesters? Ugh. Whatever. That wasn’t the problem right now.

The problem was, he was going to get laid by this mysterious woman and he was going to do it at this weekend’s party.

Yeah, well, that was as far as Jungkook got with that. How was he supposed to start the conversation? Yo, you fucked all my friends, what gives? What about me? He could try to pick her up normally, but his ability of picking up women was talking to the ones he knew were interested in him first. And she was evidently not that, because he was just a damn asteroid floating mindlessly in her space. Probably not even an asteroid. Just a fleck of space dust.

He groaned and slumped down on his notebook, copying the stupid equation with a grumble.

Yoongi had a hickey and Jungkook knew who it came from because she was wearing the same black-and-white long-sleeved shirt Yoongi was wearing yesterday. Yoongi yawned and shrugged his jacket over it, but Jungkook saw it immediately.

What the fuck?

Jungkook fumed into his beer, the plastic cup shaking. How? Why?

And Yoongi again?

She was in the kitchen, chatting with a guy, stretching her arms he placed a mojito in front of her. The action made her shirt ride up and the short, short black shorts became visible. The hem sunk into her soft thighs, just a tad too small. It made Jungkook’s mouth water.

She thanked him before wandering back into the crowd, holding her cup. Ponytail bouncing, high-fiving some guys. Yoongi was on his phone, texting. Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t make it because of dance practice and Namjoon was working on some sort of seminar paper. Taehyung and Seokjin had dragged Yoongi out – “Eh, I have to watch out for you idiots anyway,” was Yoongi’s grumble as he picked up his car keys – and Jungkook tagged along because he was bored. Taehyung and Seokjin were playing was very drunk Twister for some reason and Yoongi had declined – “You’re all idiots” – leaving him with Jungkook. Which was fine, because Yoongi had a comfortable energy about him. Jungkook liked being in silence with him. Yoongi wasn’t drinking because he was driving.

So Jungkook was spacing out, watching her move amongst the crowd. Her free hand absentmindedly flicked up the back of her long shirt – well, Yoongi’s shirt technically – and pulled out her phone. The curve of her ass was clearly visible against the white parts of the shirt. She looked at it and typed something, hands tucked into the sleeves.

Yoongi’s phone buzzed next to him.

Jungkook’s mouth thinned into a line. He snuck a glance at Yoongi who, completely expressionless, responded. She was peering at her cell again and smirking.

Was it possible to pop a vein just by standing there?

Jungkook finished his beer.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook didn’t see Yoongi raising as eyebrow as he stalked off.

Was he overthinking this? Was it a conspiracy? His brow furrowed as he moved closer to her. She turned her head in his direction and her eyes widened.

And she bolted.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Jungkook ran after her, pushing through the crowd, but she was much faster and knew where she was going. Twenty seconds in and he had lost sight of her. He stood in the center of the packed patio, confused as shit. When he got back to Yoongi, Yoongi was listening to something with his headphones.

“Something happen?” Yoongi asked absentmindedly.

“Who’s the girl you fucked last night?”

Yoongi paused. He removed a headphone from his ear. He tucked his tongue in his cheek and looked up at Jungkook, who was putting on his best annoyed face. Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the crowd and then back to Jungkook. He shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

“Why is there a woman wearing your shirt?”

Yoongi frowned. “A shirt’s a shirt. Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?”

Jungkook made a face. He narrowed his eyes as Yoongi gave him a confused look.

“She just ran from me…”

Yoongi shrugged again. “I mean, you look really angry. I’d run from you too if I was a stranger.” He went back to his phone, scratching his cheek with his free hand. “Maybe she thought you were someone else.”

Was he going crazy?

The, uh, fifty-seventh? Who cared, Jungkook had lost count now. Once again, he spied her from across the sidewalk, in the crowd of students, holding three folders stuffed full with papers and balancing a coffee and her black backpack. Red crop top with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. At least it didn’t look like she had stolen anyone’s clothes this time… unless that jacket was from someone… Or even the crop top, because it wasn’t like Jungkook knew what her sexuality was to be honest.

Anyway!

Jungkook stopped walking. Their paths were going to cross if she continued walking. She took a sip from her coffee, leaving a red lipstick mark. She scowled at something on her folders. A piece of paper. She clicked her tongue, lashes looking downward, the same winged liner as usual. The paper flapped in the wind and she pushed it against her chest, looking perturbed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Er, hello.”

She didn’t even look at him. She was chewing her lip, thinking. Jungkook had to stand in front of her for her to realize he was speaking to her.

“Oh.” She snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking, tilting her head at him. “Um… Jeon Jungkook, right?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

She nodded. “Kim Taehyung’s friend, right?”

And Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin’s friend, he thought with annoyance.

She blinked at him.

“What do you want?”

To FUCK because obviously you fucked everyone else!

Jungkook didn’t say that. His id definitely wanted to say that, but his superego told him to shut the fuck up. So that left Jungkook scrambling to think of an answer.

“Ah… I just so happened to see you last weekend. At that big party in the white house.”

She blinked and nodded. “Uh… huh.”

She did not seem to remember that she ran from him. Okay, fine. Take two.

“The shirt you were wearing… it’s Yoongi-hyung’s, isn’t it? He asked if I could get it back,” Jungkook lied.

She frowned. “Min Yoongi? You know him too?”

“Yeah. He’s my close friend.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Huh. Alright, I’ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.”

Or fuck him, he thought bitterly. “You could just give it to me.”

She chuckled. “For one, I don’t have it with me. And, for two,” she continued, small smirk on her lips. “I’m not giving it back. Thus, Yoongi and I need to have a little discussion about that.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyway. Gotta get to class now, so see you, Jeon Jungkook.”

She brushed past him.

Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He spun around. She was already ten feet away. Students milled about, hurrying, hurrying. He didn’t have any classes after this.

He followed her.

He sat outside the lecture hall. It was an upper-level psychology class. He could see her from the small window in the door and fiddled with his phone. There were less than thirty students and everyone was listening intently to the animated professor. She was focused, writing notes and answering questions when asked. She looked… normal. Just a normal student with normal priorities. She didn’t look like someone who could take shots like a champ and fuck literally every single one of his friends.

Maybe Jungkook was the crazy one.

He frowned, staring at his phone. Why would Yoongi lie to him? Well, it wasn’t like he was obligated to tell Jungkook anything about his sex life. In fact, he was probably thrown off by Jungkook asking him straight out, because who the fuck does that? To top it all off, she didn’t actually have to fuck him if she didn’t want to. If for some reason she wasn’t attracted to him (possible, Jungkook thought), then why was he trying? That was just rude.

Jungkook spun his phone around in his hands. Then he got up and grabbed his bag. His eyes flickered to the door.

She was staring straight at him, one hand under her chin, smirk on her plump lips.

And she winked.

Jungkook froze. What? That was literally the only attention she had initiated with him during all his time at university. The class seemed to be on break, with students talking amongst themselves and the teacher sipping his coffee at his desk. She cocked her chin at him and then raised her phone, tapping the screen. He looked down at his, not even realizing he had a new message.

From Min Yoongi-hyung.

Why are you lying and involving me?

Jungkook jerked his head up, but she was facing the other way now.

He ran.

“Kind of weird that you don’t want to come to the party, but, okay, man,” Taehyung was saying. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Yeah, because if she was there, Jungkook could not look her in the face. He also couldn’t look Yoongi in the face either. Not that Yoongi ever brought it up again or even sent another text after that. Jungkook hadn’t even responded to it. He ran a hand through his long hair, staring in the mirror as Taehyung chatted with him.

“Alright, I’m off. Let me know if you decide to show up.”

Jungkook sat in his dorm, shirtless. He didn’t have a roommate – he had one of the few single rooms to himself. He didn’t really want a roommate and none of his friends lived on campus anyway. He liked his own space. Plus, it made fucking someone a lot less awkward if he was living alone. He fell back against the bed. He didn’t actually have a paper to write. He had written it earlier and it was good enough. He just…

Didn’t want to make a fucking fool of himself again.

Jungkook rubbed his forehead. This whole situation wasn’t even a situation. It was him in his head dreaming up stupid shit. It didn’t actually matter. It was only filling his head with confusing thoughts and indecision.

But still… why?

He placed his right forearm over his eyes. The black script tattoo was healing and he was planning to add more soon. He sighed, thinking. He worked out. Had a (more than) decent face. Got pretty good grades (for someone who didn’t try very hard). So, why? Did she really not consider it, not even once? They were around the same people, the same crowd, and never? Not even in a drunken stupor? Jungkook clicked his tongue. Did she have a type? It didn’t seem like it; everyone in his friend group was very different, looks-wise and personality-wise. She was attractive, of course. You couldn’t sleep with that many people and not be hot. Juicy thighs, perky ass, nice shape to her tits. A playful face with a smile that made you fall in love. Dimples on both cheeks when she laughed really hard. Ugh. So cute. Lovely-shaped lips that reminded Jungkook of Jimin’s.

Okay, that last thought was a little weird.

Anyway!

Jungkook sighed again. He sat up, intending to get on his computer and play something. Maybe Overwatch or League. He looked down at his gray sweatpants. Oh.

Well, maybe he should jack off first.

Before he could decide however, there was a knock on the door. The RA? He got up, shaking his sweatpants. Hopefully the bagginess would mask it. Plus, talking with the RA wasn’t sexy, so he was pretty sure his dick would pass out by then anyway.

Jungkook opened the door.

She smirked at him.

Jungkook closed the door.

She shoved her black boot in the opening, preventing him.

“No, you don’t, Jeon Jungkook.”

He backed up, shell-shocked. She pushed the door open and walked into his room. Hair over her shoulders, the same winged eyeliner and red lip stain. The black collar with the silver ring, the same one she had worn the first time he saw her. Pink dress shirt, the one she grabbed as Jimin face-fucked her. White t-shirt underneath, the one Taehyung had worn as he fucked her from behind. Both too big for her, so she wore no pants. Just thigh-high white socks and her thick-soled black boots with the silver tips, the ones she wore when she sat in the booth with Seokjin.

In short, Jungkook’s dick snapped to attention like a scared newbie army recruit.

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and raised her eyebrows at him. Jungkook seemed to come back to reality and slapped his arms across his chest. He was shirtless, after all.

“H-how did you figure out what dorm I was in?” he sputtered. “And w-what room?”

She tilted her head. “Friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend… of a friend,” she said slowly, tongue poking out a little from between her lips when she paused. “I know some people.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly. “W-well, why are you here?”

She kicked his door casually behind her. It slammed shut, making him jump.

“Because,” she drawled, holding up her hand, lowering a finger as she made each point. “One, you decided to speak to me, only to lie to my face. Two.” Another finger went down. “You stalked me outside my Psychology of Anger class. Three.” Down it went. “When you realized you got found out, you ran away. Four.” Down. “Every time you see me walking around campus, I see you throwing yourself in the opposite direction as if you’re being attacked. Yeah, I notice, because you’re not subtle about it,” she added, chuckling. Jungkook felt his ears turn red. “And finally, five.” Her hand was a fist now. “Before that, you gawked at me every time I happened to be within eyesight of you. With your big round eyes, almost as if you were spacing out. Sometimes with your mouth open.” She twisted her lips to one side for half a second. “Kind of disorienting, really.”

Jungkook thought back to all those moments. Her eyes on him when he saw Namjoon press her against the wall. Her eyes flickering towards him when she was at the table with Hoseok. The shift when she was kissing Seokjin at the booth. Oh, God. The half-second before he closed the door, her eye on him as she sucked Jimin off. The light on her face as she was reading Yoongi’s text on her phone, her pupils on him. She knew. She knew, she knew, she fucking knew.

Jungkook’s lips parted. “Then why… why did you run?”

She raised her eyebrow. Then she nodded her head slowly, finally understanding. “Ah. Yes, that time at the party. I thought you were some kind of weird stalker, honestly. I really don’t have time to spend on creeps.”

A shameful shiver slid down his back. She thought he was a creep. Of course, she did, because literally everything he witnessed was sexual in nature and he was fucking ogling the entire time, holy fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the rest of the guys straightened me out.”

Rest of the guys? What? THEY ALL KNEW TOO?

“You just want to fuck.”

God, Jungkook thought. If there is a God, please just open the Earth and throw me in Hell right now.

“I-I don’t–what–that’s preposterous–how would you even know–”

Jungkook was tripping over every word as she stood there, tapping her foot against the ground. He lost track of his thought and made a strange noise of defeat. Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Well, technically, I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I guessed and it looks like I guessed right.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh holyfuckingshitcrap.

If Taehyung or Jimin were witnessing this right now, they would have face-palmed.

She licked her lips. It made Jungkook’s stomach flutter uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I figured it would be better for you to be alone when I told you this.” She shrugged. One shoulder of the pink dress shirt fluttered down, revealing a shoulder. “It seemed like it might have been embarrassing for you, and judging by your beet-red face and tomato ears, I am correct.”

Jungkook slapped his hands on his cheeks. “W-what, of course not, hahaha…”

“You got a tent in your pants, kid.”

He looked down and tore his hands from his face to place them over his crotch. “Erm.”

She chuckled and shrugged again. “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll leave you be then. Just didn’t want things to be weird between us, that’s all. And found out you aren’t a creep. Only a shy, awkward boy.”

Then she turned around and reached for the door handle.

Jungkook crossed the space between them within two steps and slammed a hand on the door, preventing her from opening it.

“Wait.”

He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair had a warm, herbal scent. He could see the slope of the pink dress shirt, outlining her shoulder blades under the thin white t-shirt. He was so close that he could even spy he straps of her pink bra underneath the white fabric. Looked even further and he spotted the point that the dress shirt stuck out a bit from the curve of her ass.

“I’m not… a boy,” he said slowly. His voice came out lower than he thought.

He heard her make a light scoff.

“You expect answers without asking the questions,” she replied, still not turning around. “Not everything will be handed to you just because you’re cute.”

Pause.

“Boy.”

Jungkook knew how she managed to sleep with all of them now. She pressed every single one of his buttons, perfectly, within a single conversation. He placed his other hand on the door, fingers spread out. Took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, relishing in the softness. One of his hands slid down and snaked between the space of the door and her face, cupping her chin. He pushed it up so her eyes met his. Her teasing, perfect eyes.

“Wanna fuck, then?” he breathed against her forehead.

Her lips curved into a slow, foxlike smile. For a half-second, Jungkook thought she would say no.

“Now we’re talking.”

Jungkook had experience. He knew what women liked. But he did not know what this woman liked, because this woman was the embodiment of a fucking enigma. And at this point he was quite sure she had him mostly figured out. For instance, she pressed back against him, ass perched right on his cock, making him gasp. Her hand came up and she slid his fingers up her chin, opening her mouth slowly. He stared, transfixed. Her pink tongue slid out and she pushed two of his fingers in her mouth, wrapping her warm, wet tongue around them.

Sucking on them. Slipping her tongue around his fingers, single eyebrow lifted as she drenched them with saliva, so wet that his cock twitched at the thought of being in that hole. She placed her lips around them and used her tongue to push them to the roof of her mouth, sinking down to his knuckles.

Jungkook really couldn’t breathe, watching his dirty display of power.

Her hand was still wrapped around his. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, strings of saliva snapping as his fingers trailed out with a small pop. Jungkook shivered. The pink dress shirt was sliding down her arms, onto the floor.

She straightened her head and turned around slowly. She kicked the shirt aside, looking up at him through his lashes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was going to beat out of his chest.

“Why… why do you take their clothes?” Jungkook whispered.

She grinned. She looked down at his bare chest. Reached out, fingertips dancing in the air. Her nails slowly made their way up the ladder of his abs, eyes finding his once again.

“I like to remember who did a good job fucking me,” she replied steadily, so calm and cool that it was ruining him, driving him insane. “Let’s see if you’re so lucky.”

She flattened her palm against his toned pecs and let it slide up. Jungkook couldn’t look away from her face. She snaked her arm around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. She pulled his head back roughly.

He whimpered.

Help.

She got on her tiptoes; lips so close. Her other arm came around his waist. She rolled her hips into his. Delicious, sweet friction. Held him there as she dry-humped him, agonizingly slowly, breathing against his shaking lips. The only thing holding him up was his one hand against the door.

“You like that, little one?”

Jungkook wasn’t little. She was saying it to provoke him and it was working even though he didn’t want it to. He tried not to gasp or make any indication that he was enjoying it, but his hips were already moving, pushing back, frantic for more. Her tongue slithered out and brushed against his lips. He moaned. Had he ever been more desperate for a kiss? More desperate for anything more than just simple dry-humping at his fucking dorm door? Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling a little harder.

“What if I leave you here?” she taunted, digging her nails into his side. “What if I let go and leave you here, needy and lonely, without me to take care of you?”

What was going on? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to end up. Why couldn’t he collect himself?

“Please don’t…” he whined. His hand on the door balled into a fist. “Please.”

She kissed him.

Oh, fuck.

Lips so soft, barely any pressure, tongue on his lips. Poking, teasing him. Jungkook moaned, mouth opening and the tip barely thrust in. His whole body shivered as she slid it in and out between his lips. There wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough pressure, not enough tongue, not enough forcefulness. He whined, jerking his hips into hers, trying to suck her tongue into his mouth, but it slipped away every time. Then her lips pressed fully against his and she mouthed the words on his lips. He knew what she said even before the sound touched his ears.

“Want more, little one?”

Yes. Oh, please, yes.

But he couldn’t say it because his lips were trapped against hers. She softly kissed him, over and over, hardly deep enough or passionate enough for his liking, infuriatingly not adequate and all of it on purpose. She pushed him into the room, away from the door, making him stumble. Jungkook could only break apart for half a second to choke out one word – “shoes” – but she was already removing her arm from his waist, zipping down her boot and kicking it aside, and then the other, pushing his head down to hers the entire time so she could make out with him.

Then, she pushed them apart.

He nearly tripped, forced to take several steps back. He was panting, out of breath as if he had been running for a long time. Jungkook lifted his head to her crafty expression. He could be the dominant one. He knew he could. But she wasn’t letting him. She had him in the palm of her hand, even now, even in this slight second of breath, the single moment of sanity, and then it was gone because she was lifting her shirt, the white t-shirt crumpling and thrown aside, landing on his desk, on his laptop. The pink, polka-dotted bra molded to her sinful breasts, so innocent-looking. They matched the tiny pink polka-dotted panties that pressed into her skin, complimenting her white thigh-high stockings that clamped around the softness.

His brain?

Broken. It was frozen at this image of this hot-as-fuck woman dropping to her knees and crawling on her hands towards him. Each movement a little closer, a lion stalking her prey and he was the frozen antelope, unable to run. She stopped right in front of him, straightening. And then, the smallest detail, spreading her thighs so he could see the faint wet spot between her panties. He could see her cleavage, the curve of her breasts as she trailed her hands up her thighs, her stomach, bending around her breasts, up her neck, tracing the silver ring and black leather of her choker, mouth opening to her wet tongue, a single fingertip touching the end.

“Wanna be in here, little one?” she murmured around her finger, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck yes.”

If Jungkook could gather his last two brain cells, he would have sounded a whole lot less desperate, but at the moment those two brain cells had abandoned their post, leaving him an absolute mess as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and dragged them down, down, exposing his leaking cock out in the open. Fuck, she looked so smug and he couldn’t do anything about it as she leaned in with a soft kitten lick, wiping it away.

“Let me ask you something before I start,” she purred.

Jungkook blinked. “O-okay…”

“Were you upset that I fucked all your friends and never, ever asked you?”

His eyes widened.

She smirked and wrapped her lips around his cock. His brain cells came back from their lunch break to Jungkook screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, deep, slow, wet. Tongue rubbing all around him, hands gripping his hips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t want to mess with her pace so he curled them into fists, sinking his nails into his palms as he moaned, feeling the head smack the back of her throat, muscles squeezing him hard and tight. Because she had been so soft and teasing less than ten seconds ago, Jungkook was not prepared for this wild intensity. She was literally deep-throating his cock like nobody’s business and he was trying very, very hard not to bust his load within seconds because that would be fucking embarrassing as shit. He forced his eyes open to look down at her, panting.

“S-stop…” he pleaded, but she wasn’t stopping. “P-please, stop, I want to f-fuck you.”

The slightest tick of her eyebrow. She stared up at him. It was too sexy. He chomped down on his tongue, anything to feel something else than the overwhelming pleasure from being in her mouth.

“P-please… want to fuck your p-pussy…”

She slowed, still making eye contact with him. She didn’t completely stop until she was all the way down his cock, saliva dripping out and down his balls. She didn’t get off him. Just watched him, pulsing her throat around his dick. Jungkook got it. She wanted him to beg. Her throat squeezed him extra hard and he whimpered. He bit his lower lip.

Pride? What pride?

“Please…” Oh, God, was that him? That wretched, pitiful whine, so wrecked and barely anything happened. “Please, let me fuck your pussy. Let me inside you. Let me pleasure you.” She blinked slowly. Not enough. “You made me wait so long…” His eyes raked over her sensual body, his skin burning. “You fucked them all and made me wait, made me want you, made me think about you all the time, made me crazy knowing everyone had you, but me.”

What even was this? He had never begged like this in his entire life, but he was ruined and destroyed by this beautiful woman whose red lips were around his cock.

“I want you to use my cock and make you cum, just for me. Want you to watch me when I fuck you, want you to moan for me, want you to say my name with those lips.”

Her eyes sparkled. She drew back, slowly. His cock achingly, deliberately popped out of her tight, wet mouth and he cried out softly, almost regretful that he didn’t ask for her to finish him then. She got off her knees, sliding up his body, his cock hitting her stomach and then her thigh, smearing saliva and pre-cum on her smooth skin. She pursed her lips against his, the tiniest peck, and he could taste himself, a slight hint of his own cum.

“Alright, Jungkook,” she said slowly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a condom. Of course, she had a condom in her bra. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

She smacked the warm foil packet against his chest.

Fuck, the way she said his name. So velvety, so wanton. She moved past him and Jungkook turned around, condom in hand, watching as she faced him, unhooking her pink bra. It peeled off her body and dropped to the floor, tits bouncing. She pressed her hard nipples in between two fingers and tugged, giving him a little gasp and a peek of her pink tongue from between her plump lips. He followed, swallowing hard as she backed up to his bed, hopping up and sliding back. Jungkook made it to the end of his bed and watched as she linked two fingers on the sides of her panties and pushed them down, lifting her legs up and together as she slid them off.

Thus, providing Jungkook with a shockingly clear view of her glistening pussy lips.

She lowered her legs and spread them. Wearing nothing but those white thigh-high socks and the black choker around her neck.

“Holy fuck.”

She smirked. “Come here, little one.”

At this point, he was beginning to enjoy this nickname. Either that or Jungkook was so horny that she could call him anything and he was still going to climb onto the bed, chewing on his lip, hand over hand, breath hitching as he neared, smelling her arousal. His eyes flickered to hers. She tilted her head and nodded. He bent down and licked her slit, long and slow, groaning as her sweet, thick taste coated his tongue. Oh, if only he had more patience to eat her out. Instead, his cock was dripping an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his sheets, so he got to his knees, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on, somewhat grateful for it so that he wouldn’t explode within two seconds of being inside her. He positioned himself at her entrance, lifting her legs.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

He shifted his attention to her face. He felt her hand reach down and guide him to the correct angle.

“Look at me when you go in,” she said, smirking.

His eyes widened as he pushed inward, slow, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her warmth cover him and shake him to his core, her eyes boring into his, satisfaction glittering in those orbs as he gasped at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. Breathing so shallow Jungkook felt like he was ready to pass out, thrusting the last of his cock inside her so he was fully buried, his entire length squeezed by her pussy.

She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his long dark hair. She pulled lightly and he moaned, lips trembling.

“You like that, little one?” she murmured, lips against his cheek, licking him lightly. “You like your hair pulled?” She kissed his chiseled jaw, clenching around his cock.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “A l-little…”

Her tongue wrapped around his earlobe, playing with his earrings. He could feel her hard nipples rub against his chest as she pressed her body against him. She pulled again and he moaned into her ear, shuddering as she paired the pain with the pulse of her pussy.

“I like the sounds you make,” she whispered. “Let me mark you, little one.”

He swallowed, still unable to move because he was in her gravity now, lost in her smokey voice.

“Yes, please…”

She kissed down his ear softly, lips against the pulse point under his ear. She bit his skin, sucking hard, rolling her hips onto his cock. His eyelids fluttered as she bit him, hard and unforgiving. Sharp, wet sounds. He whimpered and she ran her tongue over the bruised skin before kissing down further, finding the spot where his neck and shoulder connected. She pressed her lips against it and he swallowed in anticipation.

“Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah?”

He could feel her lips form the words she was spoke into his skin.

“Your cock feels nice inside me.”

She bit him again, hard. His eyes rolled back into his head, cock swelling at the compliment and the pain radiating through him as she pulled on his hair, sucking his skin, rutting her wet, tight pussy onto his cock. The euphoric ecstasy was unlike anything Jungkook had ever felt before. It was just a hickey and some hair pulling while he was cock-deep into a woman, but it was so much more, the soft kitten licks as she soothed the irritated flesh, the rubbing of his scalp, and the throbbing around his cock.

She finally let him go, leaning back. Her hair fanned out on his pillows, lipstick smeared, tongue between her teeth. He really thought the first time was going to be at some shitty party where he was half-drunk and confused, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. Instead, she cocked her chin at him, giving him an open-mouthed smirk as she looked up at him from his bed.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He began to move, starting slow and deep, gasping at the feeling. Her eyes drifted from his face to his cock moving in and out of her, then back up to his face. She was letting him do as he wanted, he knew. Jungkook could tell from her expression, giving him the reins for once. He scooted up, still fucking her leisurely as he lifted his hands and touched her nipples with his fingertips. He pushed them in a circle, rubbing them, closing his eyes. They were hard but soft, so fun to touch as he thrust his cock inside her. He pinched them and he whimpered as her pussy squeezed him. He did it again and felt it again. He cupped her breasts and did it again, pulling a little his time. She made a breathless moan and he opened his eyes, seeing hers shrouded with lust. He held her nipple between his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to rub the hardened nub. She gasped softly, whispering his name.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jungkook panted, feeling his hips thrust harder, spurred on by her noises. She pressed her head against his pillows, crying out as he increased his pace, rubbing her nipples harder.

“Harder, little one,” she purred, rolling her hips into his. “Want to feel your cock in the deepest parts of me.”

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she moaned with a teasing smile as he let go, placing his hands back on the bed for leverage. His long hair brushed into his eyes but he didn’t care, ramming his hips into her, hearing the harsh, loud slap of their bodies. She hissed out his name, tipping her head back as she lifted her arms above her head, clutching his pillows.

“That’s it, Jungkook,” she panted as he pounded her into his bed, feeling her pussy tighten and throb around him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

He did, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

“Need you to cum for me,” he growled, surprised at his own rawness. “Need you to cum all over my cock. Need to feel you.” A hint of desperation juxtaposed with his order. He wanted her to fall apart with his cock, wanted to watch her unravel as she came with his cock.

She cracked her eyes open and wrapped her legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him. Oh, fuck. Eyes that said, go for it. Do it if you can.

He rammed his hips into her, pounding into her over and over, so hard the bed squealed at the force, so deep her fingers gripping his sheets were white, her moans filling his room, imprinting in his memory.

“A-ah, Jungkooooook.”

His name dragged out, mixed with a moan, cock twitching at her back arching, tits bouncing with his thrusts.

“So good, so good… Gonna cum for you, just for you, Jungkook...”

And then he felt it, the heated, throbbing squeeze and the instant squelch of liquid dripping out and sliding down his balls, soaking into his sheets. The scent of her sex so heavy and sweet that he was drunk, slowing so he could feel her pussy pulsating around him, vibrating his entire length.

“W-why do you feel so good?” he whined, shoving his cock so deep she jerked up his pillows. She chuckled, but he kept going, back to his rough pace, because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to cum. He needed it now, deep inside her pussy, her scent on his skin, her foxy eyes on him.

“You wanna cum for me, little one?” she panted out, licking her lips. “Want to feel your cock get milked by my pussy?”

Jungkook sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as he nodded fiercely, unable to respond. She reached up and he knew what was coming and he wanted it, wanted it so fucking bad. His long hair was smacking him in the face but she collected it back, only leaving a few strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Fill me up.”

And then she yanked on his hair, hard, tearing a gasp from his lips. The pain shot through him, igniting every nerve, the pleasure of her pussy clenching him as he kept going, slapping his hips into hers, feeling the pull on his hair every time he sank in. Jungkook was doing it to himself now and he loved every second of it. The familiar tightening coiled inside him, so sharp and sudden that he almost screamed as he came, the orgasm racking his entire body as she pulled his head back with his hair, moaning with him as she came again, throbbing as he shot into the condom, cock jerking with force against her walls.

His whole body shuddered as the aftershocks faded. Oh, shit. He was winded, throat dry. Someone must have heard. Holy fuck. Jungkook had never cum so hard in his entire life.

Her hand let go of his hair. She rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes, his body rising and falling as he exhaled.

“Did I live up to your expectations, little one?”

The next day, Jungkook ran into Taehyung at the usual coffee spot. It was the weekend, so Jungkook hadn’t expected to see him. Taehyung looked super hungover and barely alive as he ordered a coffee in his raspy, deep voice.

“Damn, are you dead?” Jungkook asked playfully as Taehyung stumbled to him, trying not to spill his coffee. Taehyung hated coffee, so he must have really needed it for some reason or another.

“Probably. I forgot I have a paper due on Monday.” He took a sip of it and made a disgusted face. “I hate this shit.”

Jungkook spied her walking up to the counter. She rubbed her chin and ordered a tea, handing over her card. She was wearing a white crop top, black baseball cap, and short leather jacket.

And his gray sweatpants.

Taehyung squinted at his neck.

“The fuck happened to you? Someone punch you in the neck?”

Jungkook slapped a hand over his hickey. “Er…”

She breezed past them, not looking at them as she hurried along, checking her phone for the time. Taehyung whipped his head around, recognizing her instantly. And the sweatpants.

“Yah! She told me she was going to study!” He whipped his head back to Jungkook, who looked away immediately. “Study your dick, apparently!”

“Uh…”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and grumbled as he walked away.

“Well, get in line, bitch.”

sister story: meteor, m | myg

masterpost

note: Yes, I am aware League of Legends has changed the entire item inventory for 2021 preseason. I haven’t played the new patch since I wrote this. Just pretend this all happened before the preseason patch, okay? lol

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic

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dumbikawa · 3 years

Text

Silent Promises (Oikawa x Reader)

Fem!Reader | 1.5k Words | Angst to Fluff

WARNINGS: implied/mentioned drinking, drunk reader, some cursing, angst but not a lot

Summary: You’ve finally had enough of him missing date nights due to staying late at practice, so you decide to go out without him.

A/N: This is my first post!!! AHH please send in requests if you’d like, i’m really excited to write some!! (i hope this is good i’m a little rusty)

You’ve been waiting for Oikawa to come home for two hours now. Before he left this morning, you made sure to remind him about the plans you two had with some of your friends tonight, and could only hope that he wouldn’t go too overboard at practice. However, after seven unread texts and three missed calls, it’s pretty clear he completely forgot.

It’s been so long since you and Tooru had a night out or, honestly, any sort of date that didn’t revolve around sitting on the couch watching movies. Now, you loved those intimate nights with him, but you missed dressing up and making his jaw drop. It was obvious what you were getting yourself into when you first started dating Oikawa at the beginning of third year. His passion and drive are just a couple of the things you admire most about him. But he’d also made it clear that he knew what he was doing by getting into a relationship where he’d have to learn to share his time.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention for a moment, but you swiftly turn back to mindlessly scrolling through your phone. You have every right to give him a little bit of the cold shoulder routine right now.

“Hey, babe. Sorry, practice ran longer than expected,” Oikawa sighs, exhaustion lacing his words. He sets his bag down in the hallway before making his way towards you. “Wow, you look incredible. Meeting up with friends?” You bite the inner skin of your lip, trying to suppress the anger that’s begun to boil over.

“Did you look at your phone?” you ask, still refusing to turn your attention towards him even though you’d usually already be giving him a welcome home peck on the lips. Silence hangs heavy in the air between the two of you as he unlocks his phone and reads the texts you’d sent nearly three hours ago now.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, shuffling his feet back and forth, unsure of how to make this situation better. “I lost track of time and--”

“Tooru! I don’t want your excuses this time! I want you to listen to me and put me first for once. I’m your significant other, I don’t think I’m asking for too much!” You shove yourself up from off the couch and look at him. He rakes his eyes over you, taking in your bold lipstick and strappy heels. You do the same, noticing how his hair is tousled and sticking up at all different angles from him continually running his hands through the sweaty strands. His apologetic expression switches to one of annoyance as he turns away from you.

“Y/n, I’d never ask you to put me before your career--”

“That’s because you don’t have to!” He refuses to make eye contact as he moves towards the door to pick up his bag. You remember when you used to dress up and he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you. Now, you just feel stupid.

“This isn’t fair, y/n. I’m exhausted, okay? And I need to shower, so can we talk about this later?” There’s no time for you to respond before he’s turning on his heels and moving towards your shared bedroom. You stay rooted in place, utterly dumbfounded. The bedroom door swings closed and you can faintly hear the sound of the shower switching on through the wall.

Tears sting your eyes as you lean forward and quickly try to blink them away. There was no way you’d be ending this night with mascara tears cascading down your face; you’d spent way too long on this look and this mascara wasn’t waterproof. This was supposed to be a fun night between the two of you to make up for how busy he’d been lately, but now maybe it’s a self-care party. I will not let this ruin my night. At the very least, you needed a drink and to dance with your friends to reassure yourself that you’re hot and don't need Oikawa to remind you of that.

While you’re sure he can’t hear you over the running water of the shower, you snatch your purse off the counter and slip confidently out the door.

Oikawa knew he’d messed up as soon as he closed the bedroom door. A pile of rejected outfits were strewn about your side of the bed and you’d left your makeup laid out along the sink. He loves watching you get ready to go out. How you’d jump from one thing to another with seemingly no rhyme or reason, but he knew the methods to your madness. You’d begin applying makeup then get up to fix your hair just to avoid doing your liner for another few minutes.

When one of his teammates asked him to stay late to practice spikes, he hadn’t thought twice about it. Stepping into the warm water of the shower further clears his mind and forces him to reflect on the last few weeks. You’re completely right; he’d been taking you for granted. It was too easy for him to get caught up in getting better to be the best, that he didn’t consider how unreasonable it was to expect you to wait for him.

He steps out of the shower and quickly towels off. You deserved a good night and he’s going to try and make this better any way he can. Maybe there would still be time for him to hurriedly get changed, but when he went to ask your opinion he realized you were gone. He’d expected you to still be on the couch, yet the apartment was quiet. Fear plagues his mind as he rapidly dials your number, hoping you pick up. This must be what it’s like to wait for me, he thinks. I should’ve at least texted her.

An uneasy feeling begins to pool in the pit of his stomach as the call goes to voicemail. What if you’d finally had enough? What if his worst fear has come true; he lost you and it was all his fault.

With nothing else to do, he begins hanging up the clothes you left on the bed. He’s seen you in almost every one of them before. It was incredible how you could turn any event into a runway where all eyes are trained on you. He loved it because he was always there by your side. Tonight, though, he can’t protect you or admire the confidence you exude. There’s that feeling in his stomach growing again. He moves from the closet to the bathroom to carefully place the cosmetics back in their assigned drawers. It’s all just making him feel worse.

A little while later, his phone begins to go off. It’s been a couple hours since you left and he’s fine with you still being mad as long as he knows you’re okay. He feels his body physically deflate as Iwa’s name pops up on the screen, although he would appreciate a distraction.

“Shittykawa, what did you do?” Oikawa’s mouth hangs open momentarily, running through the various things he’s done wrong the last few days trying to decide what he might be referring to. “Y/n is at the bar wasted and when I asked where you were she said something about ‘probably making out with a volleyball’ before taking another shot.” If he wasn’t so overwhelmed with worry and guilt he might’ve been able to choke out a laugh, but all he can think about is how desperately he wants to have you back safe in his arms.

“Is she okay? I’m coming right now, please take care of her.”

“Don’t worry, you stay there. I’m bringing her back to the apartment. Just...y/n is good for you. Don’t be a dumbass and spend some time with her.”

A few minutes pass and there’s a loud knock at the door. Oikawa shoots off the couch to help your stumbling figure through the door. He exchanges a quick, grateful look to his spikey-haired friend before shutting the door and turning his full attention to you.

“Hey, let’s go take your makeup off and get you some water.” He manages to lead you to the bedroom where you make yourself comfortable on the floor. This isn’t the first time he’s taken off your makeup for you, so he’s familiar with your specific routine.

“Tooru,” you whisper, looking through your lashes up at him. The little gesture is enough to make him beam. “You’re a dick.” And as quickly as it appeared, the smile is slapped off his face at your words.

“Yeah,” he laughs sadly, “I am a dick.” His response makes you frown and shake your head back and forth, contradictory to the statement you’d just expressed.

“No, you’re not! Don’t say that.” That elicits a genuine laugh from him as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. He isn’t quite certain what he should say, so he continues to hold your face as he wipes the last bits of mascara away. In that moment, he makes a silent promise to never leave you waiting again.

#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa torū #oikawa fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n

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hanawrites404 · 3 years

Text

One Dance

Game : The Arcana

Pairing : some slight hints of various pairings

Characters : Asra Alnazar, Nadia Satrinava, Julian Devorak, Portia Devorak, Muriel, Lucio Morgasson, Wynne Toprak, Lyra Slaquer, Sèbastien Slaquer, Raymond Slaquer (the Slaquers belong to @the-soupiest-artist) and Maura Hickey (who belongs to @puzzle-piece-angel)

Warnings : None

Timeline : Modern-Dance AU

This story is based of this song :

And this story is an introduction to the Vesuvia Dance Company and its members, so come along and let's see what does it have in store ✨✨

3rd person POV

"Tch. Boring......."

The wind whooshed against her as she tucks her flowing strands of hair behind her ear. She was leaning against the railings of her balcony, her hands resting on the cold metal as she examined her painted black nails.

To her, black was always the perfect colour. And she nearly never altered it to any other shade. It would be too tedious again.

The woman crossed her legs as she drank her Limoncello from the rim of her glass, the bubbles of the alcohol fizzed inside. Her throat bobbed with every sip and jingled the translucent crystal attached to her dark choker. The liquor quenched her dry throat, pricking it with its gas bubbles and bitter taste as she sighed the cold air.

The sparkling alcohol matched with her eyes as they stared upon the heads of the people walking past her apartment from the balcony. The cars driving away looked like playthings to her, and the trees swaying against the soft gust seemed like shrubs. Nothing was of interest to her outside as she continued to drink her beverage and blink away the yawn from her eyes.

She thought of going to bed again since she had nothing to do either inside or outside, but then a simple phone call from her friend changed all her plans.

"What is it Asra?" She answered, not a good afternoon, not even a hi. She wasn't in a mood for this.

"Heya Wynne! How are you doing first of all??" The person from the other side of the phone didn't seem unfazed by her disinterest because of his experienced friendship with the woman. She sighed and replied, admiring her nails again. "Nothing much, just passing my precious time as always" she chuckled at the last phrase. "What about you? What's the occasion for calling me?"

"Well, I missed you dearly-"

Wynne instinctively made an expression which spoke out 'Oh really?'

"And I have something to propose to you"

The girl blinked from curiosity and pulled away from the railings, walking inside her penthouse, still holding the glass of Limoncello and her phone near her ear as she told him to continue.

"So! You and I both know how much you love to dance right? You have also given performances at your workplace and you just love to lose yourself to the club music. You are a very awesome dancer, Wynne. And you don't mind showcasing your moves to everyone"

"Yeah, so what?" Wynne rubbed her temples, Asra was sure taking his sweet time and her forbearance.

"Well, I have sort of an offer for you. Why don't you meet me at the address I'm gonna text you and I'll spill everything when you arrive"

"Wait what?!" Wynne places her hand on her coffee table, her voice of disbelief and bafflement. "You got to be fucking kidding me Asra. Please tell me what is it and don't you dare cut off like this"

"Sorry Wynne, but I am busy. I promise I'll tell you everything there. Goodbye!"

"Asra! ASRA!!!" but she was too late.

"UGH, fucking bitch....." Wynne snarled as she clutched her phone tight in her palm. The device then vibrated in her hand and she rolled her eyes, opening her phone to find that Asra had sent her the destination in their chat. It was an address that was unfamiliar to Wynne, and thanks to the wonder which had already accumulated in her mind, she growled, and finally decided to reach the place.

Wynne swallowed the last sip of her drink and looked down at her clothes. Assuming that Asra was calling her to a public place, she decided to change from her casuals to a sleeved black crop top and matching palazzos and chunky heels. She combs her blue hair and applies her dark lipstick before grabbing the keys of her old red Cadillac, and she descended the stairs after locking her house.

"Asra, this better not be a prank or I will slap you to grave" she murmured grimly as she started the engine of her car and drove to the address. With a bit of traffic and breakers in between, it took her somewhat half an hour to reach an unknown college building. Now, why would Asra call her here? Was it perhaps for a college reunion? Then why was he talking about dancing? She had so many questions, and Asra owes all the answers to her after leaving her hanging on the phone like that.

"Winnie!! Over here!!" The woman turned her head to the call to find her best friend trotting while waving towards her. It didn't take her long to notice the tie-dyed rainbow shirt and glitter pants with sparkle sketchers, as Wynne just nodded and waited for Asra to finally stop by her car so she could give an earful to him for leaving her edged at the cliff. But calming her urge to denounce him, she patiently asked.

"Alright, I'm here. Now what? Why did you call me near a college?"

"A college?" Asra snorted and burst into a laugh. This made Wynne even more confused and annoyed as she snarled silently and eyed him, unamused. By phoning her at an unknown place when she was in a particularly bad mood only to laugh at her, she had set up her mind to drive away right in front of him and crush him with her car. But then, he luckily spoke on time before she could act her frivolous murder.

"Boo, this is not a college. It may look like one, but it's not. Trust me" Asra winked at her. Wynne, still being unamused, leaned her forehead against her fingers as she replied lethargically.

"Well, what is it then? Care to explain after calling me here without any proper explanation?" She already wanted to leave honestly. And can't she just sleep?

"Of course. If you would follow me, Milady" Asra being the gentleman offered his hand out to her though he was aware of Wynne's already increasing irritation. He stayed patient because he didn't want to reveal the surprise yet to her. The vexed girl grunted again and got off her car, placing her fair hand over his tanned one. Asra gently squeezed her hand in his with a warm smile on his face. That seemed to lower her irritation as she squeezed his hand back. Asra with a small blush spreading across his golden cheeks led her near to the campus, and Wynne followed him gradually.

Soon both of them were near the polished mahogany doors after passing the lobby inside. And before he could enter, Asra checked on his friend with another appreciative smile. Wynne raised her eyebrow. To her, Asra looked very gladder than usual. Though he was known to be a happy guy, he looked....... exceptionally optimistic today. Was today someone's birthday? Was today her birthday? She had no idea what the hell was going on and what the hell was wrong with Asra.

"What's the matter?" She asked. She sounded calm, but inside she was bubbling with novelty that what exactly he had in mind.

"This is not a college, Wynne" Asra repeated what he said before.

"Yeah, so what? Please don't pull another suspense now" the woman placed her hand on her lip. She loved the suspense, but too much of it makes her feel lazy.

Heh, as if she wasn't feeling lethargic already.

Asra chortled and patted her head, and he finally pushed open the huge doors to uncover something imperial, stupendous and incredible enough to leave Wynne's mouth gaping and her eyes caught mesmerized.

Inside the so-assumed as college, was a tremendous majestic dance theatre of what looked like belonging to a prosperous french period. It glittered with gold and red, as a satin rose sprinkled with dewdrops glimmering of sunshine. The walls were delicately painted with a royal maroon gloss and regal purple imprints of what left an impression of lavender flower. Even the hall gave off the scent of apricot and apple orchards. The hefty velvet curtains hemmed the rectangle stage elegantly, the spotlights modern, and the footing was simply immaculate.

"Asra......This is-"

"Alluring? Captivating? Hypnotising??? Is there any other English word I am missing??"

"Well, I would say that yeah. But...this place is like a fantasy!!" Wynne exclaimed as she idolised the beautifully festooned and pleasingly symmetrical ceiling. "I know right? Told you so. I'm glad you liked it. It's one of my favourite places to stay at" Asra joined her as she entered in, the click of her heels grating into the carpets of the theatre.

"Yeah......it's like this has come straight from the golden era of art. Like in one of my school history books! I...I never would have guessed that it would even more wonderful in real life. I thought it was more of a vision of romantic people which were just left as dreams" Wynne skimmed the sides as she examined the details closely, thinking internally about how much work must have gone into creating such a painting over such a vast canvas.

"Well, this theatre runs on donations and funds, but it's sure undeniable that this dance studio is glorious and alluring" Asra shrugged.

"Yes...it is........ Wait" Wynne stopped in mid-sentence and turned to him, her hand still on the wall. "Did you say, dance studio?". Before Asra could open his mouth to reply to her, another unfamiliar voice echoed from a corner. It sounded soothing, pleasant and graceful, but Wynne could not recognise who it was. However, the source was soon revealed as she walked towards both of them, and both of their eyes got fixated on her.

"Oh! A guest! Is she the person you were talking about, Asra?" The fair lady enquired, and Asra nodded in agreement. "Yup! She is the one. The 'blueberry syrup' " Asra winked at the unknown lady.

Wynne was now really questioning her existence....... blueberry syrup..........

Seriously?

"Oh! Now I see why you called her that" the soft ravenette chuckled, even her laugh chimed blissful which can send anyone to ease. Asra giggled and agreed to her, his dimple delicately forming on his cheek like a tiny crescent moon.

"Anyways, here she is. Wynne" Asra introduced the bluenette to the foreign lady, who smiled sweetly at her and Wynne waved for a greeting.

"And Wynne, this is Lyra" Asra finally disclosed the name of the gentle lady, who then stepped closer to Wynne and reached her hand out for her to shake, which the other lady gladly took after staring at her pale hand. And as she had guessed, her hand was soft like feathers.

"Lyra Slaquer, but you can call me Lyra. It's a delight to meet you, Wynne. I hope you enjoy your stay over here" she spoke with another cute smile. Wynne nodded and took her hand back, breaking a small grin herself. The name 'Slaquer' whistled a bit familiar to her, but she had never met Lyra before so it was kind of odd, but she pushed the thought and quickly replied to her.

"I too wish to enjoy my visit over here. This place is still kind of anonymous to me since Asra did technically blackmailed me to arrive here" the woman stared at the white curlyhead with narrowed eyes.

"What?!" Lyra gasped as her hand partially covered her mouth. "He did?! I'm so sorry for that, Wynne! He usually does not do that though" she grabbed her chin in her two fingers.

"Wait, I never blackmailed you" Asra's purple eyes widened in scepticism.

"You provoked me. You fed my curiosity and you left me fucking dumbfounded by your sudden hanger, you agitated me so much that the urge you aroused in me won. And whose fault do you think it is??" Wynne crossed her arms and stared at him, with her weight on one leg.

Asra's cheeks lit up with bright pink by the lady's question. It was not a surprise that Wynne caught his fib about being busy just to bring her here. He had known her ever since they were kids, and Winnie was the most attentive one out of the two. A smirk engraved on her dark lips as she tapped her foot on the floor, waiting for a comeback, though she was already aware that he doesn't have an answer. He was caught, he was very badly caught. And he sadly had nothing to objectify with.

Lyra meanwhile just looked from Asra to Wynne, then back to Asra. She was waiting for one of them to speak, but someone calling her name, presumably from backstage, snapped her out. "Coming!" The twirly ravenette replied, and she rushed to attend to her call. But soon after she stopped at her heels for a moment, and turned back to gently grab Wynne's hand and then finally walking with her.

"Come on Wynne! Let's make you meet everyone. I'm sure they will love you" Lyra notified her and she continued dragging her. The blue-eyed lady sounded so favourable and eager that Wynne couldn't muster the will to pull away and refuse her. She was better than deterring the warmth of a civil lady like her, and Wynne peeked back at Asra, who just waved at her, mugging 'have fun' to her.

'I will kill you.....' she gestured back at him with a scowl and flipped him off until Lyra and she completely disappeared behind the stage. And good thing she didn't notice Wynne being blatantly horrible and rude.

Not that Asra minded her cynicism anyway, he still loved her for how she was.

"Guys, listen up! We have a visitor here. She is Asra's dearest friend!" Lyra with a sunny smile as twinkling as the moon inaugurated her to everyone present backstage.

But little did Lyra know that Wynne already knew four motherfuckers present inside.

"What the heck? How are you all at one place?? And most importantly, what are you guys doing here???" Wynne pointed her finger from puzzlement at all of them and questioned the troop she knew very well through conventions and clashes she would never forget. Some of them which she found awful, and some of them surprisingly candy. She honestly never wanted to meet any of them at all, but profoundly in her heart, she was obliged that she was oriented with the six awesome and decent idiots.

"WYNNE?!!" A particular red-haired fellow, a ginger girl, a raven head man and a purplenette lady, together cried out the lady's name. The four were in a greater shock than she was in. Because neither Asra told them who the guest was, nor did they expect her to be the visitor out of any other persons they could have guessed. Now that's quite a shocker eh?

"Oh~ you know them???" Lyra bent towards her, her blue eyes shone with inquisition. "Yes...Yes, I do" Wynne sauntered towards them, this time, with a wooden floor, her heels gave off the clicking like of a ticking timepiece. Her hands were crossed, and she was tickled that how all the pals she was intimate to were existing in the area.

"Since when?" Lyra strolled with her. "Long story, Dear. It's all thanks to Asra, you can say. He is the cause why I know all of them. Like I met Nadia during one of his get-together parties, and then I met these two siblings- what was their name again? AH! Julian and Portia, at a grocery store when I and Asra wanted some stuff. And like that, I met his other best friend, the giant guy over there, Muriel"

Wynne brought up each one of them as she enunciated about them to Lyra. The ravenette listened to the bluenette with peak attention. She adored the manner and the refinement she held up while chatting to her. It was ethical, posh and highly lordly, just as a splendid black swan.

"And that's the story in a nutshell. Now tell me" Wynne kept her hands on her hips and glared at the four. "What's going on here?". "Wait, Asra didn't tell you what exactly is this place and what is our purpose here??" The physician asked her with mistrust.

"Well, no. He told me nothing. But he did say that this is a dance studio" Wynne tapped her chin, trying to recall what else he had asserted.

"Well yes, you are correct on that. This is a dance studio. Which includes the theatre along with the backstage, the rehearsal rooms, a canteen area with the lobby, a recreational cabin and the dorms. Our dancers live here and we provide them with a comfortable and hygienic place to stay along with necessary hospitality, and they all perform for the company" Nadia replied.

"Wait, the company? You guys are running a corporation together?" Wynne cocked her eyebrow again. This all was very new to her, and pretty intriguing too.

"You can say like that. This is Vesuvia Dance Company, and I'm proud to say that we all are like a close-knit family here. I run the company and also work as the organiser. Portia is the set painter. All the lavender imprints you saw on the screens were done by her" the umber woman referred to the chubby girl as she waved heartily at Wynne.

Judging by Portia's denim suspenders splattered with numerous sorts of pigments, she did look like a very hard worker. Just like how Wynne always knew her to be.

"And that gentleman over there, Muriel, he does the building work. So the stage and every scenery of the bureau is retained by him. During performances, he also makes sure the lights and every other piece of equipment are operating appropriately. Portia occasionally teams up with him for the arrangement of struts and special effects. Without him, the true magnificence of the dance would never have reached the audience" Nadi commended.

Muriel's cheeks blossomed pale red as his jade eyes shyly lowered down. Portia had the opposite reaction though. She just grinned and locked arms with the giant man catching him off guard and turning him more rattled than ever.

"I-It's not that much of a big deal" he mumbled abjectly. Wynne chuckled at the scene and muttered 'cute' before facing Nadia so she could introduce the medic next.

"And you must know Dr Devorak. Just as his profession speaks, he takes care of the condition of every member of the company and assures the safety of everyone from likely injuries or illnesses. He also schedules a diet plan if required, and he is also quite sincere in his work, and the members easily recover, all thanks to him"

"And....did any previous member die even though he was around?" Wynne heckled, and Julian fell right into her mockery as his face burnt deep red, the vivid colour spreading across his porcelain skin. He was positively ashamed, and Wynne snagged him so badly he was staggering. But luckily, Nadia seconded him up as she soughed.

"No Wynne. No one has died. The doctor is a qualified physician, and every one of us relies on his skills of treatment. He is also very humble, so there is nothing for us to be concerned about in terms of health" She retorted. "Alright. I believe you" Wynne shrugged with a sly smile, although the flush on Julian's cheeks didn't vanish. Wynne was like a harpy when it comes to disparaging someone, which sometimes makes Julian fear her. Other than that, Julian did like her, she can be cute sometimes and he has seen it. But just like every ambivert, all she requires is the right time to express it.

"And moving on, Asra is our principal dancer, so he is the one who comes with most of the choreography, but he also ensures to give opportunities to the other dancers to suggest any addition. With his and everyone's aptitude, the event comes out to be beautiful" Nadia affirmed with a low smile on her swift lips.

"I see....." Wynne held her chin in her fingers and nodded.

"And the thespians along with Asra are, Lyra, Maura, and-"

"Hello guys! What's up?"

"Woah Woah Woah!! Take it easy! We didn't go anywhere" Julian stumbled back onto a table as he attempted to brace away from the not-so sudden jumpscare of the stranger who appeared to have popped out in between out of nowhere. Well, a stranger to Wynne, to be precise.

"Haha, sorry Ilya. I was just excited to meet the new guest, and I didn't wanna miss them!" The outsider gleefully met the sights of the new lady with his azure ones, a purple glisten romped within his iris, just like how the gold flapped inside the matron's lustrous eyes. Other than his apertures, she noticed how he looked a bit similar to Lyra, contemplating the same type of hair and complexion of the skin. She then looked down at his clothes. The uproar he was wearing captured her eye, reasonably. Wynne was stringent, and a fashionista filled with critique, but what the man was having over him wasn't so terrible to her at all. She could see the striped black-white sweater, baby pink pants,

And were those turquoise crocs he was wearing???????

"Interesting...." Was all that Wynne could say.

"This is Raymond. He is our pianist, and he with his band performs along with the dancers. And he also conducts the music" Nadia enlisted. "Oh, so he is the soul of the performance huh. Pretty....... eccentric" Wynne eyed Raymond who glanced innocently back at her. She rasped and dabbed Raymond's shoulder as she reacted. "But sure. He is cute".

"Oh! If I'm cute then you are the loveliest girl in the whole world, and the ebony fabric on your fair body is like shadows surrounding the glowing moon" Raymond's eyes sparkled with esteem and cherish towards her, like a child recognizing their favourite superhero. That wasn't a good sign for Wynne at all. Especially deeming that it has only been minutes since he and she got introduced to each other. But, inferring that he was the type of guy to give random sweet compliments to anyone, she coolly answered.

"W-Why thank you Dear. You are.....pretty yourself. I like your hair".

"Thank you, Ms Wynne. You are too nice" he blushed with a wide beam. "Yeaaaaahhhhh" Wynne internally winced but tried not to show it to not come off as rude and anguish the cute boy.

"Alright! I think that's everyone in the area. There are three more people who are left to be introduced, but other than that, I hope everything is to your liking, Wynne. Asra brought you here so you could think about joining the company" Nadia rolled a strand of her long hair around her finger.

"Wait, join you all???" Wynne asked.

"Oh my gosh, you are gonna join us??? PLEASE DO!! I would love you for that!" Raymond practically jumped on his feet with enthusiasm.

"W-Wait, but why??? Why do I have to??" Wynne struggled to justify.

"Well, why not. We all have seen you perform before, Wynne. And you would make an exceptional dancer! Also, it's very fun hanging around with everyone and dancing too, don't you think?" Portia added.

"Yeah Wynne, Pasha is right. We know you don't like being around people so much, but we would give you space when you need it. We may stick close, but we will make sure to not bother you much" Ilya gently smiled at her. She did frighten him sometimes, but Julian would be happy to have a bit of her insolence and sarcasm hovering around. Everyone would love to have that.

"I agree with Julian. You are a wonderful lady, Wynne. It would be our absolute pleasure to have a talented entertainer as you dance with us. I promise I won't talk much if that annoys you. But I want to get to know you better, Wynne. I bet you would be very fun!" Lyra playfully whacked her shoulder, only to receive a deathly grimace from the bluenette's wolf-like eyes.

"O...Oh...." Lyra cautiously procured her hand and backed a bit away from her. She wasn't dreading of her if anything. She just got more.....intimidated. She had never met a woman with such grimness flooding out of her, yet be so nimble as a twilight waft along with the gloom she hauls. Lyra felt like a little butterfly just witnessing a vicious spider open her gapes and watch it flash with yearning and malevolence, but close enough, she could see the dignity and that dwelled deep in those gazes.

And those golden orbs had apprehended her just like a tempting spider's quagmire.

Wynne was never known to miss her target anyway.

"S-Sorry....." Lyra's diamond orifices veered under and a weak rosiness escorting her cheeks.

Wynne just shut her eyes, sighed softly, and immediately gawked at Muriel who was typically tight-lipped the whole time. But she decided to inquire him too because his opinion also mattered after all. "What do you think, Big Guy? Would you be happy to have me over?" She straightforwardly asked. The huge man was taken aback for a bit, he had believed that Wynne won't bring any mind to him, and obviously, she proved him wrong. And now he had to respond to her because everyone else had their eyes on him too.

"I......." He started.

"Mhm?" Wynne waited.

"....................."

"I won't mind" that's all he said.

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of solace and rejoiced while Muriel just reddened and pouted. He wondered what made the people so relieved when all he did was say 'yes' for the new girl to stay. But what it truly meant was that they were ahead in favour by one more vote.

Wynne snorted. "Yeah yeah, celebrate all you want, but still. I haven't agreed to this yet. So technically there is still be left to decide. Now don't get too much excited already" she stated.

"You are certainly right on that. But we are willing to wait for your final decision, Wynne. Whether positive or not" Nadia told her, and the others agreed to her, nodding and muttering to each other. "Good. I don't like rushing things. I'm glad that you understand" Wynne's lips curved into a slight smile, and everyone else in the room returned a grin. "Of course. We want you to be comfortable after all. You are our friend" Julian added. "And we promise to support ya!" Portia said. "You can speak to us if you ever have any trouble, Wynne" Lyra peered at her. "And we promise to not irritate you at all!" Raymond assured her with a bright grin on his lips.

"We......We would take care of you too....." Muriel softly smiled.

Wynne softly chuckled, shaking her head delightfully and placing her hands on Raymond and Lyra's shoulders. She gleamed at both of them, and she thanked all of them for the patience and hospitality they all gave to a newbie like her. She truly felt honoured and warmly greeted by all of them, and she felt much pleasanter than she was feeling appearing for the first time. Nadia was pleased to see how everyone welcomed Wynne. She was looking forward to the guest making herself comfortable among the partners and come to be a valued part of the small artsy gang and relish the beauty of dance and music together with everyone.

And am I missing someone important to introduce?

"So! What did I miss, lovely ladies and gentlemen?" Some other unidentified person barged in like a typical theatrical garish zealot. Just as assumed by his way of the fashionably late entry, his clothes were incredibly contemporary and vogue and his shirt were half-buttoned to expose his semi-hairy chest. The unknown man rested his elbow at the frame as his piercing emerald eyes stridden around on everyone's faces until it spotted its victim. A certain gal in black.

"Ah! Gotcha" the stranger grinned and grazed his teeth over his lower lip. He pushed himself back on his feet and walked towards his prey. His hand brushed through his curly dark locks, the hooves of his shoes made a satisfying click with every step he got closer to Wynne. He wasn't focused on anyone else other than her, his eyes glimmered under the daylight, like lush green leaves after monsoon showers.

Wynne perked up her eyebrow up. Who is this guy now, she pondered. She glanced at his shirt for a moment and noticed patterns of peacock feathers with splats of prominent blue and white matching the print. Very remarkable, she thought. But also somehow very familiar too. The design on his cloth was something she had seen somewhere before, but she couldn't recollect when exactly.

Nevertheless, the unfamiliar man wearing the familiar clothing gently took hold of her hand and locked his emeralds with her gold.

"And you might be......" She started.

"Sèbastien Slaquer at your service, mademoiselle" he fervently kissed her knuckles, nurturing the sweetness of her skin on his lips.

"Ah...Slaquer......french....Wait a minute" Wynne interrupted.

"Yeah, what's the matter? Remembered something important?" He tilted his head and looked at her, his eyes taking in the charm of her marvellous face and dusk merging with her rosy skin.

"Slaquer.....no wonder why it was sounding so weird to me.......I think I have heard this name before.....in a brand name" Wynne held her chin.

"Oh, you have? I don't know. My brand sure is well-known--"

"Wait, did you say, your brand???" Wynne gripped him. "Yes of course" he shrugged. "Hmmm.....that explains your shirt..... the peacock designs..... peacock designs???"

Wynne suddenly gasped. "You are french, aren't you?!"

"Oh, are you giving me a racist remark now?" Sèbastien knocked and chuckled at his joke. "But yes, you are right. I'm french. And so is my little brother and my cousin behind you" he gestured to both Raymond and Lyra who were currently casually conversing with each other. "Ohh those are your siblings? Alright," Wynne nodded. She wasn't surprised because the three of them did kind of resemble each other. The opaque curly hair, ivory skin, thrilling eyes.

And speaking of Raymond and Lyra, Wynne noticed how personal they were. Both were standing near one another, and Raymond never halted eye contact with Lyra, and Lyra also had her entire attention on him. They didn't seem to mind anything happening around them. They just talked, but every word they said to each other pertained only to them. They were just cousins, but Wynne was mildly amazed how they behaved like mutual siblings who loved each other to the brim.

It thawed her heart, but also made it ache as soon as she realised she doesn't have such a person whom she can call a sibling. Her mother was never there to give her a sibling.

Wynne was always alone at such times.

"Anyways, what do you call a peacock in French by the way? Maybe that would remind me" Wynne turned to the tall man. It disturbed her how he towered over her. She was fundamentally disturbed by how ALL of them towered over her.

Heh, looks like someone has taken Portia's place of being the smallest.

"Oh, Paon" he answered within a second.

"AHH! I got it! That's your fashion brand, ain't it so?" She banged her fist on her palm as soon as she ultimately understood the name she was trying to remember all the time. "Well yes, you are correct again. Wait, you mean you know my work??" He gazed at her. "Mhm. I have seen it. Peacock layouts are your trademark, along with the colours, royal blue and brine green. Your type is modern, but also have a slight tinge of French flavour, dating back to the eighteenth or nineteenth-century or so. I have even seen the blogs that talk about you, very impressive I must say" she complimented him.

"O-Oh...Why thank you for your tributes, mademoiselle. You are pretty vigilant and almost figured out my whole style. Not many people can, you know" he laughed. "Of course, no problem Mr Slaquer" Wynne giggled. She found Sèbastien relatively interesting already, even after knowing him only for instants. Not only she liked his judgment of fashion, but also how he and she shared the same passion for design.

"Oh please, call me Sèbastien. It's my upmost pleasure to meet you, Miss......."

"Wynne. Wynne Toprak" she said.

"Toprak?? You mean, Priddell Toprak??" Sèbastien asked her. "Yup. I don't use my middle name too often, actually" she mentioned. "Ohhh I am have heard about you a lot, Ms Toprak. I have witnessed your works too, but I just wasn't lucky enough to see your beautiful face until now. Lucifer's Wings, that's yours right?" He questioned.

Wynne's cheeks turned a slight pink. She always thought that she can improve her style more and more, so she never found her methods perfect. And someone just breaking it to her that they admired her works and call her beautiful on top of that turns her shy and flustered.

"I-I...Thank you. And yes, that's my brand. I started it when I was like, 15 years old or so" she replied. "Woah, now that's a young talent I see. Very terrific, Ms Toprak. And I love how you make black match every other colour of your clothing. Your mode is very diverse and comfortable for anyone. Now that's how I want fashion to be. It should be dispersible to everyone, without any discrimination. And also with being unique, but also not too bizarre, if you know what I mean" Sèbastien's eyes shot to Raymond for a second.

Wynne bobbed her head. "I agree with you. Clothes which are different but also not too much of it. We don't want to walk around looking like piñatas now, do we?" She shrugged. Sèbastien broke into a fit of laughs and he shook his head. His laugh sounded like harmony to her, she chuckling with him too.

"Also, I am guessing you work with Nadia in designing the dresses for the dancers?" she continued. "Yup. Right. I have a contract with her for that. And Raymond has one too for his band to perform in the theatre" Sèbastien rubbed his neck. "Ahh...I see......Well, my friend had invited me here to take a look, and decide whether I should join the company with all of you or not" she noted.

"Oh! So you are going to design with me too?? Like a collaboration??" He sounded pretty energetic about it. "Well, maybe. But I also am a dancer. So let's see what happens" Wynne shrugged again.

"Woah...what a gifted lady. I'll be looking forward to work with you, mademoiselle" he softly kissed her hand again. "Oh it's nothing much. Trust me, Dear. But sure, I'm anticipating too" she sadly smiled at him. She still wasn't sure if she should join or not. But seeing so many likeable people who welcomed her so sweetly, made it hard for her to refuse. But also, what worse can happen if she joins? She loved dancing, and maybe along with fashion, she can make her career in another field too.

But still, she needed a bit more time. Though her mind was already telling her to agree to the contract and sign in. But she still needed to wait. Not just yet, please.

"Ohh!! What a lovely lady in the house!" Wynne heard another adorable voice from the entrance. She glanced at the new blonde woman, her long hair as golden as daffodils and her eyes as green as polished malachite. She also noticed the dress she was wearing. A long red skirt and a white buttoned top. It was simple but pretty, along the black ghillies with distinguishing neat white socks.

"Oh hello there. Nice to meet you" Wynne turned her attention to the blonde dame, whose cheeks lightened to blush as she bashfully smiled at Wynne.

"Nice to meet you too! I'm Maura. You must be Wynne, right? Asra told me about you" she replied. "Yeah, that's me. In flesh" she snorted.

"Ah, Wynne. Maura is the one who planted all the flowers and plants in the garden. And she always knows what type of flower would suit anyone. Also, not only she is the gardener, but she is also a prudent performer of Irish stepdance. It looks very difficult to me, to be honest. But Maura always does it so effortlessly" Sèbastien added on. Maura blushed harder and timidly thanked the man for the compliment, who just patted her head with a playful wink in return.

"Oh! Now that's very sweet of you. I absolutely loved the sunflowers in the garden by the way. They are my favourite. Every other flower in the garden were beautiful too" Wynne smiled at her. "Of course! I'm glad you liked them. I love sunflowers too. They sure a happy radiant flowers, don't you think?" She glinted at Wynne. "Definitely. I love them because they remind me of my mother, that's why" Wynne sadly smiled, the fond portraits of her precious mother as her hair and eyes lustrous as the cloudless floral elegance of nature flooding into her psyche. She dearly missed her, too bad she was no more.

"Oh! That's wonderful! I'll make sure to make a bouquet of sunflowers for you once they fully blossom. You can even gift them to your mom. And tell her I said hi" Maura twinkled. Wynne was seized aback by her abrupt tenderness. People were being too much nice to her today that it seemed so alien to her. But appreciating her generosity, Wynne warmly smiled.

"Thank you, Maura. She would like it" she still couldn't believe that such kind people still exist.

"My pleasure, Wynne. This is the least I can do" she smiled back.

"Also, Irish dance, now that's very interesting. You gotta show me some moves and teach me one day" the bluenette placed her hand on her hip. "Ohh for sure! I would love to. What dance do you do? Or do you specialise in some other thing than dancing" Maura leaned her head.

"Ah! I'm usually into hip hop and ballet. I learnt a bit about belly dancing too, it's also called Raqs Sharqi in Arabic. And other than dancing, I also run my fashion brand, and that's my real profession. It's called 'Lucifer's Wings'. I still remember how I took days to come for a decent name" she facepalmed and chucked at her forenamed naivety.

"That's a very nice name! You gotta show me your works someday then. I bet they will be very very beautiful and elegant, just like you!". "O-Oh....thank you for the.....compliment, Dear. And of course, I'll show you my latest designs, if that will satisfy you" Wynne brushed back her bangs. "I am sincerely honoured, Wynne" Maura grinned at her, her hands behind her back and her cheeks pink.

"No pressure. Your welcome" she raised her shoulders. Alright, she had to admit. She had started to like Maura too. Who wouldn't? And it was funny how she presently was liking the Slaquers and Maura more than the six she already was aware of. Maybe it's the benefit of the joy of meeting new people. Maybe........

"Also, I have a small question, would you mind me asking?" Wynne blinked. "Not at all, sweetie. Ask away" the blonde replied.

"Asra said this place runs through funds" Wynne blinked again.

"But who exactly is funding you all?"

Maura wasn't the one to answer her question. And neither was Sèbastien. Or Raymond. Or Lyra. Or any of the five.

It was the one out of the six who was known to be snooty, and robust, and blond.

And a passionate pup person too.

In came the notorious devil with two of his faithful albino pair of hounds growling at everyone in the room. His garnet coat with gold trimmings and the spotless Tom Ford Customs, obviously costing so much it would make our pockets spontaneously explode, were dry cleaned and smoothed very strictly, and his hair was huddled back with shower gel, replacing the pleasant smell of vanilla in the air with a tincture of mint.

"How are you all losers? You missed me?" The man removed his Gucci glasses and straightened his silky black gloves on his hands as he looked down at everyone.

"Tch, not him again" Wynne heard Sèbastien scoff and cross his arms. He looked irritated, and so did Maura, but she didn't have any frown on her face like him. She just looked..... unsettled. Meanwhile, others in the room were feeling as uncomfortable as both of them too. Muriel was looking away, Portia began to mind her business, Julian hid behind his papers, Lyra and Raymond tried to ignore the man and Nadia just sighed tiredly and rubbed her temples to give some comfort from the headache she just got. Possibly because of the new blond who entered.

"Hello Lucio" Nadia was the one who bothered to greet him, and she didn't look like she had a choice.

"Hello, Noddy! So how are my wife and her useless crew doing?" He cocked.

"Ex-wife, for your information. And they all are doing better than you, anyway" she scowled.

"Ah, still defending them huh? You do know this won't stop me" he smirked and kept his hand on his hip. Nadia closed her eyes, breathing calmly. "I don't care if you stop or not, but you are wrong. You always will be. My crew will always be committed and hard-working. And they all mean a lot to me no matter what bad you say about them"

Nadia's words effectively dissolved the tension in the room. Wynne just kept up at her place, listening to everything. She wasn't stunned to find him here. If her five friends would be here, then so would he.

The surprising fact was that she preferred the blondie over everyone else due to their previous relations and memories. It may sound unbelievable, but Wynne knew Lucio more than anyone, and it probably was the same with Lucio too, that he knew Wynne more than he knew anyone else. She was just a kid she met the guy when he was younger than today. And it has been two decades since, yet they kept in touch and their love never deteriorated.

Maybe.....maybe Wynne did have someone to call a sibling.

"So good to see you here, Lulu" she sounded pleasantly happy. That adds to another reason for joining the company.

"Wait- WYNNE?!!" The man was startled, finding his close friend at a place he least expected to. His lips widened to a grin and he forgot about everything, only to dash to the lady and tackle her in the biggest hug he can ever lend. Wynne laughed, and simply held his back, embracing his nostalgic warmth and scent close to herself, remembering every time they spent together merrily.

Sèbastien was dumbfounded, his mouth agape. Maura too was a bit astonished, that a sophisticated lady like her would be friends with such a flamboyant and hyperactive person. Well, she didn't judge it. Opposites do attract, you know. Maybe that was the case here. Maybe......

"What...What are you doing here??? I didn't know you were coming for a visit. Noddy never tells me anything" Lucio implored, fretting at the last sentence. "Well, it was more like a surprise visit. Nadia didn't know, so don't blame her" she replied. "Arrgh, fine. If you are saying it, then I'll gladly listen" he winked at her."Good" she cracked a tiny smile, snickering in the middle, and he joined her with the laughs.

"Now now, do you work here too??" She asked as she stopped.

"Work?! No!! I don't work with these idiots. THEY, work for me" his chest surged like a roasted turkey's bust.

"Oh yeah???" She raised her eyebrow, her eyes darting to Sèbastien. He shook his head, denying Lucio's statement. He then crossed his arms, and behind Lucio's back started mocking him by making his hand talk like Lucio and mouthed the gibberish with his eyes rolled up.

Wynne almost got caught by wheezing and cackling like a witch. Luckily her convenient hand covered it up.

"--And that's how I brought them all here. I am their saviour, Wynne. I raised them from the streets and gave them homes and look how they repay me. Not even a decent formal greeting!!" He bragged. Wynne already knew that the 'saving' part was not true no matter how fondly she thought of him, but she still played along to not dishearten her best friend.

"I understand, Monty. They are pretty tired too, you know. You can excuse them for that" she augmented, perfectly roleplaying.

"Excuuuuuse me?!! I work for hours at the meeting of the cooperations and look at me!! Not even a sweat on my brow. Oh, come on!! Are you all that lazy??? You are such losers for god's sake UGHH" Lucio hysterically placed his hand on his hip and cited them all. None of them were diverted, just as predicted. But Lucio was just pouting as always, and Wynne was feeling hotter and also sheepish. Were the two things even proportional?? She imagined so.

"U-Uhhh" she slowly walked to him and carefully placed her hand on his shoulder. She clasped her fingers around his joint and sighed peacefully.

"Hey...Lulu. I know you are worried about them and thinking that they are not....... trying harder, but they all deserve a break, you know. They all are like you after all. You all are humans, you need rest. You need fresh air"

She stopped and breathed a bit.

"And you know what you and your mates want??" She asked him, with a small beam of mischief on her lips.

"Huh??? What do I need??" He raised her eyebrow at her. She then grinned and booped his nose.

"You need ice cream, Silly! Ice cream! Who doesn't want a sweet cold treat on such a hot day hmm?? Come on all!! Let's have ice cream outside! I'm sure Asra can cover us up on that, free of charge" the bluenette invited everyone over, melting the potent tension just like ice cream under the giant ball of burning gas, leaving sweetness and chill dripping all over.

Everyone agreed to Wynne and relaxed from Lucio's outburst. They were finally keen to take a break they deserve and make their way through the other side at the exit. Lucio and his pets already ran to where they would most probably find the ice cream guy of the house, while everyone else silently thanked the blue lady for preventing Lucio to turn things worse. Some shook her hand, some gave her a quick hug and a bright smile, while some gave her thankful glances. She welcomed all of them with a simple nod, happy to help of course.

"You did great, Wynne. Thanks for shutting that asshole up" Sèbastien patted her head before moving out, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling away a loud ballad. Maura followed Sèbastien, but she stopped to gently shake Wynne's hand and give her one of her confectionary smiles, also thanking her for saving her from the virago.

"It was nice to meet you again, see you soon" and she went away, her skirt fluttering with the inside wind, as the bluenette saw her walking.

"Hey...that was considerate of you, stopping Lucio from flaring on all of us. I never liked him screaming at anyone, but thanks to you, now I can finally breathe fresh air" Lyra humoured and Wynne chuckled with her. "No problem, Lyra. Lucio and I have been together since my childhood. He had been like this since his college days. So it's not shocking that he is still like this. I honestly love it" she laughed.

"That's great, even for him. I'm happy that you have someone close to you" she gladly smiled. "Yeah, I am happy too. You also have awesome siblings, take care of them just like they take care of you, okay?" Wynne leaned on her weight. "Ah! Of course! Ray Ray is my closest confidant. We are just cousins, but I treat him as my brother. Sebby is also very sweet to me, but he is one thirsty man for gossip and he often turns......scandalous" Lyra whispered the last thing to her.

"But I'm really glad they are here for me, and I'll be there for them too! I'll protect them at all costs!!" Lyra puffed her cheeks with resolution and adherence. Her adorable reaction made the goth lady guffaw from amuse. She held her stomach, one of her hands fanning her face and gashes of laughter accumulated at the nook of her eyes.

Watching her laugh was like watching a thunderous hurricane reflecting a widespread rainbow, or like a broken glass casting an bewitching silhouette.

"You are such a sweetheart. Keep it up like that" Wynne patted her shoulder out of appreciation. Lyra shied a little, she found the other lady's laugh so mellifluous as a psalm's ensemble. She creased a ringlet behind her ear and ogled fondly at the shorter woman.

"I am trying my best, Wynne" she timidly replied to her. "I know, Dear. I know" she closed her eyes and exhaled. She unfolded them again, only to glimpse back into her sapphire watches. Lyra was so captivated by her that her heart skipped a beat when she observed the golden blaze and crystal frost inside her. It was enthralling.

"Also, may I ask for a favour?" Wynne gently held Lyra's chin and poked it up her lips. She didn't even realise that her mouth was open in awe that she blinked rapidly, and stammered a bit, her face flickering to an apple glow. Soon she regained her composure and answered back to her, not making her wait for long.

"Yeah?? What's the matter?"

Wynne stayed silent for a bit.

"......................."

".............................."

".................."

"......................................................"

"Can you show me the contract papers? I gotta sign up"

The clock strikes at 11, and so does the cap of Wynne's pen. Finally, she wrote her name on the paper and learned to become one of their family. She was having fun and was impatient for her first performance.

Well.....maybe Asra did the right thing annoying her huh. Bless him for that, and everyone else of the Vesuvian Dance Company.

Now let the extravaganza begin!

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Because Its The Truth

Its the day of the party and Clark makes himself clear.

Masterlist

Warnings: mild/implied Smut, Swearing ,Bit of Angst

A/n:so this is the next part of my Clark kent X reader series the next one is going to be smutty but until then here you go guys I hope you all enjoy xx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

Because Its The Truth

You whined sprawled out across the sofa below Clark, his hips snug against your own as he wriggled his way between your thighs, a spot that he had become accustom to the past week slipping himself here when ever he got the chance, he tugged your thighs high on his hips rocking lightly making sure your core was pressed down firmly on the under side of his cock pinning it back to his pelvis then he pivoted his hips rubbing back and forth as he leaned forward dotting kisses on the dark marks he had left across your neck you counted as he did. Five. Five fucking love bites all in various shades of blue and violet you sighed already knowing he was reiterating his claim giving small nips and sucks on the ones he deemed to subtle you pouted at him slapping his back tilting and wriggling trying to get away you stopped moving grunting a Little as his thick throbbing cock pressed tight against your quivering hole, he pressed harder grinding moaning feeling the heat warm the underneath of him you felt like you were melting onto him. He smiled leaning forward again to bite at you lightly, you laughed still batting him away.

"Nooo Clark don't I've got to cover them soon!" He laughed pinning your hands down the gave one final deep suck making you hiss at the slight pain.

"Cover them? Why maybe I wanted people to see." You glared at him

"No not this many I'm gonna look like a slag" he tilted his head blinking he didn't understand you sighed bloody American

"A whore Clark an easy lay" he gave a little ah then shook his head"They wont think that, they will think your loved, irresistible" he growled diving in again you giggled squealing

"No nono! Clark you big lump stop!" He stopped pulling away smirking as you shook your head at him he moved in fast capturing your lips releasing your hands as you tilted your had back as he kissed you deep and slow still rocking against you making you clench and shiver you pulled back moaning for him trying to grind faster on him.

"Fuck Cl-Clark! Please don't stop! Ah!" He chuckled

"Besides how can you be an easy lay if I haven't fucked you yet?" You groaned as he slowed his hips pressing hard letting you feel how hard he was, moving his hands to your waist pulling up the t shirt you wore tugging it over your head as you undid the buttons on his shirt dragging it across his shoulders you bit your lip as he leaned back letting you have your fill of him, you trembled eyes wandering across him, his pale skin stretched across bulging muscles you couldn't believe the first time you laid eyes on him, it was absolute perfection a Greek god come to life, you swallowed as he pulled himself back on top of you letting his weight hold you down as he wound a hand behind you unhooking your bra then slid it off quickly, you flushed covering yourself only earning you a soft look as he moved forward kissing you again lightly then he ran his hands under your bust warming your ribs with his palms then delicately cupped the underside of your boobs smoothing the pads of his fingers across them lightly, you could feel your nipples harden beneath your on palms gently he coaxed them away groaning as he finally thumbed the hard peaks, you panted squirming as he moved on to pinching them, then pressed your hands away fully moving down to kiss them lapping at them suckling, you arched into his mouth as one hand trailed down slipping below the waist band of your leggings smoothing his hand flat cupping your mound rubbing back and forth digging one finger just past your lips wetting your panties making it seep threw the material you moaned feeling him press harder and harder to you unable to stop your walls clenching. he pulled away licking his finger clean moaning loud.

"Fuck you taste amazing, ugh god I was going to wait until after tonight but I don't think I can" with that being said he scooped you up making you giggle as he carried you to the bedroom dropping you on the bed.

"Clark! We don't have time! I have an hour and that's not enough time for anyone" he stood hands already tugging his pants down kicking them off behind him leaving him just in his boxers before e leaned over you hooking his fingers in the hips of your leggings slipping them off quickly.

"Clark! OH MY GOD-AH!" you laughed loud rolling on your side avoiding him as he tried to trap you below him, you scrabbled on your front trying to crawl up the bed away from him laughing all the time he followed laying across you sliding you down the bed below him lining them up with his caging you below him kissing your shoulder blade, you twisted your head back leaning up kissing under his jaw, then licking below his ear nipped him sucking a little, he grunted thrusting forward anchoring your hips to his with an arm below your waist. you smiled against his neck moving low leaning your weight on your shoulders the side of your head on the bed looking up at him biting your lip and rubbed your ass against his erection, he jerked forward into your ass slamming his hand down by your shoulder tucking his chin to his chest grunting his cock was twitching and throbbing hard and sore wanting nothing more then to impale you, and fuck you thoroughly.

"Fuuuck! Oh-OH god shit babe THa-AH" he panted in your ear as you whined below him grinding on him trying to chase your own orgasm. You growled it wasn't enough.

"Claaaarrk please, please I want- I cant!" he smiled knowing what you meant.

"I know Honey, but you did say we don't have time, maybe your right" you whined you and your big mouth he pulled back placing one last kiss on your nipple sucking harshly then blew cool air onto it, you squirmed

"Clark stoooop teasing me!" He laughed leaning back hands up in the air

"Alright alright love I'm sorry....Come on we should start getting ready, not time to lay about y/n your going to make us late-ow!" you scowled at him as he sent you a cheeky grin rubbing the spot you just smacked, he smirked and helped you up. You pondered on this past week as he took a shower ,the last week has been a dream your relationship with Clark had blossomed it was amazing a new date every night each as good as the first if not better and each one came with another steamy make out session that seemed to get hotter every time you came together a clash of teeth and tongue always ending with you both panting and blushing ,tho you hadn't had sex yet both of you knew it was coming, you were just waiting for the other to make the final move,you'd had had a little strop about him littering you with love bites lets just say they didn't stop on your neck... you sighed looking over to your bag you were a little sad to be returning home tomorrow night, but before that was the party tonight he finally came out of the bathroom you up you made your way to the door passing him he looked, trying to peek at your dress but you twisted tucking your dress over your arm hands clutching your hair and make up bags.

"Ah ah Mr Kent this is a surprise, its the first time your seeing me all dolled up and I want it to blow you away" he scoffed waving his hand over his crotch with a smirk

"Blow away babe" you slapped out at him playfully grunting when he dodged laughing you smiled shaking your head closing the door behind him, contrary to what you'd thought when you met he was a little shit deep down, kind caring and lovable but a cheeky little shit none the less. You sighed hopping into the shower keeping your hair out of the spray needing it to be a little dirty for your planned style once clean you decided to get started hair and make up first. It wasn't long before you had created a vintage up do a poodle style high in the back and one large defined roll in the front with a black chiffon scarf covering below the curls at the back tied in a large mini mouse style bow just behind the roll of center, your make up was simple having freckles meant you couldn't really go all out with foundation and stuff so settled for a deep red matte lipstick and dramatic cat eye liner then touched up your brows you had found a nail bar in town when shopping with Clark a few days ago had dragged him in, him getting him his first ever manicure it was funny watching him flinch at some of the tools they had let him stay next to you as you had yours done he seemed fascinated watching as you got a set of claws done just for tonight....well not claws but they were red almond shaped false nails, which he was against at first saying you didn't need them but had changed his mind when you'd gave him back scratches that night which had become a nightly ritual him laying across your lap watching tv as you traced random patterns across his mouth watering back, how you haven't drooled over him you'll never know but it was his new favorite pass time and he had fallen asleep a few times. Finally it was time for your dress. It was a bright red pencil dress with tiny white polka dots, ruffled bardot shoulder sleeves that swooped into a flattering sweet heart neckline that showed off your generous bust there was a thick matching belt at your waist showing off your natural hourglass figure. The dress was appropriately named Rhonda's revenge and you adored it, quickly you added your string of pearls and matching earrings then slid on your patent red leather kitten heel sling backs. With one last look you grunted seeing the dark marks he had left you sighed using your yellow color corrector and foundation leaving two on the left side of your neck, one was just below your ear the other where your neck and shoulder met there was one last one just peeking over the bust of the dress, you clicked you tongue and slammed open the door.

"Kent you little shit!!" He jumped spinning around then gulped...Holy fuck you looked hot, his cock immediately stood to attention straining against the tight pants he'd wore with the sole intention of enticing you .

"I-I wha- yes? Wow you look mmm" he growled walking around the bed closing the distance in three strides. You stopped his approach with one pointed nail poised at his chest he stopped gulping still wide eyed .

"Look at this!" he smirked

"I am and I must say its stunning and I cant wait to have a piece" you flushed a little but composed yourself quickly

"No I mean this you tit!" You pointed to the love bite peaking over the top of your dress. He smiled at you grasping your finger placing a tiny peck on the end of it

"And if you would direct your eyes here you will see your not the only one" as he said that he moved your finger to point at the light love bite just below his right ear. You gasped moving closer clasping his chin tilting his head to get a better look feeling him smirk and try to suck one of your splayed fingers into his mouth.

"What? When did I do that?" He laughed twisting his head out of your hands capturing your palm placing a kiss on it then wound his arms around your waist puling you flush against him leaning in resting his head on yours.

"Well I'm not sure but at least it matches my shirt don't you think?" You blushed at him slowly running your nails up his chest to his neck then looked down only just taking in how incredible he looked, a dark blue pair of dress pants the without even looking you knew was cupping his peach of an ass like a second skin and a deep burgundy almost purple that did in fact reflect the color of the mark you'd left on him. You smiled undoing his top two buttons letting a tiny amount of hair peek through. He sighed looking down at you as you avoided his gaze as you toyed with the small patch of revealed chest before leaving it with one chaste kiss.

"Ready to leave?" he sighed releasing you grabbing his suit jacket walking out to the living room you followed grabbing your patent leather bag that matched your shoes giggling as he struggled you put his phone keys and wallet in his pockets.

"Here you can keep them in here" you said offering your open bag he thanked you placing them inside as you grabbed a black wrap to go across your shoulders before following him out of the apartment he double checked the door then walked down the stairs arm in arm guiding you out side holding your hand as he did

"You look beautiful tonight" you flushed looking down you'd never been good at taking compliments you shook your head

"Th-thank you I wanted to look good for you tonight... hair went a bit messy.. hence the scarf and my eyeliner-" he stopped you with a finger to your lips

"Your perfect, you look stunning and I'm going to have to beat them off of you" you blushed again leaning into his arm as he hailed down a cab to take you to the party.

Wow that was all you could say this party....it was fancy hosted in the grand room of a five star hotel there was a huge buffet table with champagne pyramid it was glitz and glam with a live jazz band what ever award they won it must have been a big one. Upon entering Clark slid off your wrap holding it himself refusing to let you take it ,you didn't get far into the hall before you were both stopped by normally a stern looking man with uncharacteristic smile you could tell by the look on Clark’s face.

Kent! good to see you! ah- wheres Lois? I thought she said you were bringing her?" Clark cleared his throat

"Ah yes that... No we haven't been together in just over a month but she was trying to force me to go with her..... This beautiful woman tho is my beautiful girlfriend Y/n, love this is my boss Perry editor and chief of the daily planet" you nodded shaking his hand

"So this is Perry its nice to finally have a name to the face" he got over his shock then shook your hand

"Its nice to meet you to and if I do say I think Kent here is punching above his weight" he laughed as Clark sighed closing his eyes at the comment.

"I think you will find its the other way around... this is a fancy party tho very nice." he thanked you then turned to Clark who had tugged you to his side after noticeable the looks his male coworkers were giving you, hungry eyes scanning his woman didn't sit well with him.

"So your from the uk?" you smiled nodding

"Yeah decided a change so up sticks and moved here-well smallville and met Clark" Perry nodded calling over a server Clark took a glass each for the both of you handing you yours

"Well that's one hell of a move where are you from in England"

"Kent funnily enough, in the south east" he nodded to you pointing in realization.

"The garden of England?" you scoffed at him sipping your drink.

"Yes something like that, I lived in a large city but just outside it is tiny villages and hundreds of orchards and manor houses, its picturesque I suppose" he smiled then looked to Clark

"So its over for good this time?- sorry for you don't mind?" you shook your head at Perry

"Honestly its fine I know she isn't....moving on" you looked to Clark there was stern look on his face you bit back the doubt choosing to quietly sip your drink, a slither of fear that he would choose this woman over you an your not sure you could handle it your sure you'd already fallen to hard for this amazing man.

"You know as well as I do Perry she wont listen... but this time I meant it and now I have this lovely lady right here...I hope she realizes now" Perry smiled as he watched you and Clark you blushed tucking your self into him, he knew that Lois had taken her toll on Clark but here in front of him he saw a happy man and could only hope it would last.

"Well I've got to do the rounds enjoy the party" you giggled thanking him wrapping a hand around Clark’s waist trying to push away the taunting fears that seemed to lurk just below the surface, he squeezed you a little reassuringly placing a small kiss on your head as he walked you over to a table of his co workers introducing you to them an hour later you had seemed to go through the same conservation the same answers yes you were together, no he wasn't bringing Lois, no he wasn't with Lois any more and yes you were from England and your accent wasn't fake...it was exhausting but finally Clark had stole you away onto the dance floor sharing a few slow dances stealing kisses you chuckled"Your lucky this is matte" he smiled kissing you again"I wouldn't care if it wasn't" you rolled your eyes shaking your head the leaned it against him listening to his heart beat it was a wonderful night... Then you felt it a piercing gaze into your back you knew, you closed your eyes all night you had been dreading this you knew it was silly but deep down you was scared he would run back to her, they had so much history together your heart ached he must of realized where your thoughts were going and placed his hands on your face making you look at him, fear and doubt clouded your eyes he smiled at you.

"Hey look at me- that's it, I'm here with you no one else" you blinked up at him and his heart all but stopped he moved down kissing you deeply you gasped tilting your head to the side he followed opening his mouth exploring your mouth then slowly pulled back

"I-I've fallen in love with you" you gasped at him heart skipping a beat

"What how- Clark isn't it to soon-" he smiled wrapping you up in his arms again gazing into your eyes shaking his head

"No Ma always said when you know you'll know...I never knew what she meant before.... she said it was like the world stops, no worry or fear just calm and quiet knowing everything will be fine in the end as long as you have each other and I'm telling you now I-I love you, I've never felt like this before its incredible and light, there's no strings o-or catches...I know it might seem weird and you might not feel the same-"

"Don't be stupid of course I feel the same, its- I was scared of telling you in case you thought I was moving to fast. I love you Clark Kent." his face lit up those words just hearing you say you love him. Not Kal. Not Superman. Him. Clark Kent. his grin lit up his face then he pulled you to his chest keeping you tight against him once the song was finished you shared a final kiss which he deepened quickly teasing your mouth open he plundered your mouth with ease he tasted of the wine he had been drinking a sweet strong flavor that he made sure to fill your mouth with as his tongue moved back and forth moving with your tongue fighting and playing, he grunted and tugged to towards him holding your ass squeezing it you bit at his lip pulling back giggling as he laughed a little. Then someone cleared their throat you tensed turning seeing a beautiful woman auburn hair and light blue eyes she wore a short silver dress hair hanging down in soft waves the sides pinned up behind her head with silver clips.

"Clark can I have this dance?" he went to refuse but you put your hand on his chest nodding.

"I will get us some drinks okay? see you in a minute" he was torn looking at you gulping

"But what about you?" moving to cup your cheek you tilted pressing a kiss to his open palm closing your eyes then took a deep look into his before nodding

"Its okay love, its just one dance you both need to talk" he went to speak but was interrupted

"Yes we do" you turned to walk past her closing your eyes at her voice, she wasn't happy with you, you held back a shuddering breath, this was it even tho you'd both just announced your feelings this woman was beautiful and she wouldn't give up Clark, you couldn't blame her if you were in her place you wouldn't give him up either you knew others were looking before you could take a step Clark grasped your wrist making you look at him.

"I meant what I said" you smiled and nodded placing a hand on his.

"I know that I did to" you pulled away leaving him with the other woman you stood by the table where his co workers were watching your bag you moved to sit next to a Asian woman you'd been getting along with. Bethany she moved over placing a hand on your arm.

"Are you okay?" you smiled fighting back your unshed tears

"Yes I'm fine... he has to make up his mind...I love him I trust him" she sighed shaking her head watching as he slipped his arm around the woman's waist rigidly moving across the floor.

"Its not him I'm worried about, I don't know what it is but there is something going on, he seems to feel obligated to indulge her... here you look like you need one" she said passing you a drink you thanked he

r"She tries anything I'll drop her like a fucking rock" she laughed at that you cleared your throat still feeling eyes on you looking over you saw Perry pointing to the dance pair questioningly you shrugged he glared and made his way across to you pushing threw everyone who seemed oblivious to the drama unfolding in the room.

"What the hell are you doing sitting here?" you smiled at him sadly watching as Clark and Lois made a swooping circle across the floor.

"He needs to talk to her... and this way no drama they can share a dance and say what needs to be said then he can come back to me...I hope" Perry snorted

"He damn well better do! and fuck not causing drama" you smiled at him watching with baited breath

"She tries anything you'll get drama alright trust me Perry" he would be lying if he didn't want to see that, as much as he liked Lois she had been odd with Clark in the past year he had seemed tense, a shell and everyone could see that he wasn't happy. Clark sighed as you walked away he frowned as Lois took your place quickly hand on his shoulder and waist as he took position stepping back as far as he could before dancing.

"You look very handsome tonight Kal" he flinched clenching his jaw as she spun out then back in to him.

"Lois... not here" she laughed a little as they continued to move.

"So who is she? someone to make me jealous? if you wanted my attention you should have asked." he bit his lip growling a little.

"No Lois she's not to make you jealous and it wasn't to get your attention she's my date" she faltered hissing at him

"No that doesn't make sense tho we were supposed to be coming here together? I waited you know." he spun making another round of the floor catching you sitting by Bethany, Perry standing by your side arms folded watching things play out, you looked distraught his heart clenched any lingering feelings he had for the woman in his arms died he turned to the red head.

"Well I told I wasn't coming with you and me coming with Y/n makes perfect sense considering she is my girlfriend" she glared

"Cheating? I never thought you'd be one for that Kal" he growled fighting to hold back his strength

"I've told you to stop calling me that! and we would have to be together for me to be cheating and we haven't been a couple in over a month." she smiled then laughed off his stern look.

"You cant be serious that little spat? Kal love I know I gave you space but really we aren't over... we always get back together after our spats....You didn't mean it, you couldn't" the last sentence was quiet, frightened and uncertain more a question than a statement. he sighed nodding.

"Lois I did mean it, we aren't together and we aren't getting back together,I'm with y/n now and I'm happier then I've ever been" she shook her head at him

"No do-don't say that you love me, why would you say something like that?" he shook his head at her grasping her wrists pulling them off him as she tried grasping him tighter afraid of the reality that she had lost him this time.

"Because its the truth, I'm head over heels in love with her and she loves me, not Kal El not Superman me Lois. Clark Kent is enough for her and that's all I've wanted for someone to love me, the Kansas farm boy... You couldn't" she gasped moving closer but he stopped her.

"N-no you don't know what your saying, you love me I know you still love me...y-you've been drinking or something-" he placed his hands on her shoulders pressing her back.

"Lois I told you...I don't love you anymore there was a time I thought I did but you never changed...I changed for you but you never did for me and I cant wait anymore and live like that, in a one sided relationship... I'm sorry but I meant what I said enough is enough I've moved on and you should to"

"I can change I can please just give me another chance...Kal-Clark" he sighed shaking his head

"That’s just it you cant even call me by my human name anymore, please I want to be friends but I'm not your happy ending and your not mine." he finished looking over to where you sat looking down into your glass.

"And she is?"

"Yes, She's my soul mate" Lois swallowed closing her eyes letting a few tears fall as it sunk in she had lost the most incredible man she had ever known and it was her own fault,the way he said it the conviction ,the certainty there was no hesitation. He loved her she knew, the woman in red wasn't some fling or passing fancy she was his world now with out a shred of doubt Lois knew that the woman sitting across the room was the woman he'd marry, the mother to his children and the one he would grow old with. It was a bitter pill to swallow she had always dreamt it would be her and suddenly it wasn't.

"It will take time... to be friends but I would like that in the end" she whispered the words releasing him, he pat her arms giving one last look before he jogged across the dance floor away from her to the love of his life. You'd been looking down you couldn't stand watching him with her for all your big talk you were devastated it was the longest dance you'd ever known you were torn you trusted him but.... she had known him for a long time they had a history had planned a life together who were you really? just the woman who knows his mother, who agreed to pose as his girlfriend? you sighed spinning the champagne flute in your hand you downed the rest of it standing placing the empty glass on the table only to gasp as you were suddenly grabbed around the waist tugged into a hard chest you looked up.

"C-Clark?" he smiled pulling you closer to him kissing your cheek

"Weren't leaving without me love were you? everything's sorted, Lois and I are...going to keep our distance for a while...then hopefully we can be friends but for now we are going to steer clear of one another....why did you look so surprised I came back?" you looked down a little tearful shaking your head resting against him listening to his heart, he sighed you had been worried about loosing him. He leaned down pointing at you bag motioning for Beth to pass it to him, once she did he unfolded your wrap placing it across your shoulders you blinked at him pulling back.

"Clark? what are you doing?" he smiled cheekily winking at you

"Well love it appears I've got to prove to a certain lady the she is the one for me..." he leaned forward nibbling your neck you giggled at him.

"And there is one way I can think of doing that but I'm going to need a bed" you giggled slapping at his chest moving in for a kiss letting him dominate your mouth slowly as he gripped your ass pulling you to your tip toes making you squirm before pulling away.

"Lead the way" he laughed quickly ushering you out of the party heading home.

#clark kent imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x reader #superman x you #dc x reader #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x you

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filthy-rat · 4 years

Text

one of your punk girls

“Okay, so this is going to sound weird but… will you do me?”

His eyebrows jerk upward and he rips his gaze away from the TV to look at you with a bewildered expression on his face. The beer in his hand tips dangerously to one side in his shock, and you snatch it before he can accidentally spill it on your couch. It’s gotten quite a few stains ever since Mary Goore decided to become your unofficial roommate, and it doesn’t need any more.

“Uhhh… wanna run that by me again?” Mary’s brows furrow.

Heavily, you flop down onto the couch beside him, and polish off the rest of the purloined beer. With your free hand, you gesture to his face and hair and clothes, and cock your head to one side.

“You know, do me… like one of your punk girls.”

“First of all,” he mutters, as he snatches back the bottle from you, only to discover it’s empty, and casts you a disgruntled scowl. He sets the empty down with the others at his feet. “First of all, I’m metal, not punk.”

“Same difference,” you mutter, reaching for the last beer in the pack on the coffee table.

“Second,” he adds, slapping your hand away from his precious beer. “What makes you think you can pull off this fuckin’ dead sexy look, huh?”

Flashing you a wicked smirk, Mary gestures to himself, puffing out his thin chest and striking a cocky pose. His eyebrows bounce saucily above hooded eyes, and a bark of laughter escapes you.

“Oh my God, Goore, has anyone ever told you that you’re a fucking dork?” You pick up a nearby throw pillow and whack him in the face with it. “C’mon, I’m tired of people giving us weird looks when we go out bar hopping.”

“Why would they give us weird looks?” He arches a brow. “Who’s looking at you weird?”

“Everyone! Because I dress like this,” you gesture to comfortable ‘normie’ clothes, “and you dress like that.” You gesture to his ripped jeans and sleeveless band shirt, to his messy devil lock and smokey raccoon eyes. You let your hand flop down to smack your thigh, and you pull an exaggerated pout. “I wanna be cool.”

“Being cool isn’t a matter of what you fuckin’ wear or what you look like.” Mary shoots you a scowl, and tosses away the pillow. “But fine. I can give you a little edge, if you want.”

Grinning, you yank yourself upright using his shoulder, and scurry back to your bedroom to retrieve your makeup. When you return with your bag, you find him sitting with one foot tucked beneath him and the other extended onto the couch. He’s put some music on through the TV—just some of the shit he’s usually listening to, but quiet. As you approach, he fishes a out a nubby black pencil from his pocket and sets it on the coffee table.

“Be warned, I ain’t exactly an expert at this shit, but,” he shrugs, “I get by. Kinda have to be sloppy with it anyway to get the full effect.”

You sit beside him, cast him an expectant look, and he smirks.

“We’re gonna have to get a lot closer.”

With surprising strength, he yanks you into his lap, your legs straddling his waist and draping themselves over his thighs with your ankles resting at the small of his back. You and Mary aren’t exactly unused to physical closeness—since he’s moved in, you’ve both seen each other in various compromising situations and constantly use one another as furniture. But this seems more than those little encounters.

This feels surprisingly intimate. His face is only a few inches from yours, his eyes hooded.

“Alright, uh… close your eyes, keep ‘em closed.” As he unzips your bag, he reaches for the eye pencil he’d fished out of his pocket.

Obediently, your eyes flutter closed. He begins rummaging through your makeup bag, muttering in a disgruntled, quiet voice.

“What is all this shit?”

“Makeup,” you reply, laughing airily. You open your eyes and look down to see him holding up a concealer and staring at it in confusion. “That’s to cover—”

“I can read.” He drops the concealer back into the bag and begins pawing through your many lipsticks and eyeshadows and rouges. “You don’t need all this shit. Who needs all this shit for their face?”

“Some people have less than perfect skin.” You frown. “What do you use?”

“Eyeliner, eyeshadow. Grease paint. Blood.” He shrugs. “Easy.”

“You mean fake blood, right?”

“Same difference.” He pulls out a few eyeshadow palettes, opening each until he finds one with the color he needs, then uncaps the nubby eyeliner pencil. “I said close your eyes.”

“Sorry.”

“No smiling.”

Immediately, your lip curves into a smile and you try to bite it back.

“Hey, what did I just fuckin’ say?”

A peal of giggles escape you and his breath ghosts across your face as he gives a chuckle, too. As you laugh, you feel his hand gently lay on your cheek, and it grounds you immediately. Pulse suddenly spiking, your laughter dies away and you bite your lower lip. With an unexpected tenderness, Mary drags the tip of the pencil across your lid, pulling your brow skin taut with his thumb to get a smooth line.

“Ain’t really used to doing this on someone else,” says Mary quietly, as he lightly pokes and swipes at the line on your eyelid with the pad of his thumb to smudge it. “It’s, uh…” An airy laugh escapes him. “Little harder.”

“I know it’s impossible,” you say, smirking, “but if you manage to give me a tenth of your hotness, I’ll be happy.”

He snorts. “You don’t really need more fuckin’ hotness, do you?”

“Is that you admitting you think I’m hot, Mary?” With a smirk, you peek open the eye he’s not currently working on, and you’re pleased to see his cheeks have started to go red.

“Close that fuckin’ eye.” With a punitive but light slap to your thigh, he meets your gaze, his glower only a little marred by the blush on his cheeks.

“Sorry.” Your eyelid falls closed.

“...You know you’re hot, okay,” he huffs, and gently turns your chin to one side. He leans in a little and begins lining your other eye. “You don’t need me to fuckin’ confirm that.”

“Still nice to hear.” Having your eyes closed helps you be a little braver. But only a little. Your voice goes quiet when you speak again. “Especially from you.”

The pencil stutters to a halt on your lid, and lifts off. The warmth of him momentarily recedes as he leans back, and your brow furrows in worry. You don’t dare open your eyes again. With a clear of his throat, he gently places his free hand along your forehead and continues to line your eyes. Distracted by the feel of his skin on your skin, you let him work in silence. He finishes with a little cats’ eye at each corner, and lightly swipes his thumbs over the points to give them just the right amount of smudge.

When he’s satisfied with his handiwork, he fumbles with the eyeshadow palette. Through your lashes, you watch him open the palette, pick up the applicator with a confused grimace, and toss it carelessly over his shoulder.

You snort out a giggle, he shoots you a warning glare, and your eyes shut once more.

After a moment, his fingertip is brushing along the outer corner of your eyes. They move up and into the crease of your lid, smearing pigment in their wake. He applies much more of the color than you would’ve normally, but that’s the point—to not look like yourself. Basking in the feeling of his hands on your face, you begin to hum with the music playing quietly from the television.

“Uhhh, lips…” mumbles Mary, and you open your eyes to see him scrub his blackened fingertips along the outside of his thighs to wipe them clean, then go back to rummaging in your makeup bag. “Black or like, dark fuckin’ red.”

“Mm, I don’t have any black, but…”

You lean down and rummage through the little bag, your forehead bumping lightly against his. As he moves his hands away to make room for yours, you pretend you don’t see him watching your face with hooded eyes. Your pulse spikes when you spy him lick his lips.

“What about this?” You pull out of the bag a practically untouched deep burgundy lipstick. “I’m never brave enough to wear it.” You flash him a rueful smile as he takes it from you.

“Well,” he says, uncapping the tube and leaning forward a little, “we’re being fuckin’ brave tonight, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah.” You smile, and can’t help but blush a little.

There’s a softness to his eyes that you don’t remember seeing before. He clears his throat, and leans closer.

As if on instinct, you close your eyes as he applies the lipstick to your mouth—first to your bottom lip, and then to your top. Gently, he holds your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding it to where he needs it. Eventually, he pulls the lipstick away, but he doesn’t lean back. You can still feel his warm breath whispering across your face and still sense his proximity. Eyes still closed, you frown.

“...Mary?”

Softly, lightly, he presses his lips to yours. You startle at the unexpected contact with a gasp. Your addled brain can think of only one thing.

“Y-You’re gonna smudge—”

“S’hotter this way, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, almost incoherent. “Edgier.” He hums out a half-growl. “Christ, you’re fuckin’ sexy.”

With a sigh, you melt into his embrace, and your hands bury themselves in his hair. For a few minutes, he continues on, moving his lips against yours until your head swims and your stomach is perpetually making somersaults. When he finally relents, he regards you with hooded, desire-darkened eyes. A wolfish smirk curves his lips—which are now slightly painted with that deep burgundy lipstick.

“Wanna see?” Resting his forehead against yours, he fishes out his phone, unlocks it, and taps on the front camera. He turns it towards you, allowing you to take in your smudged cat’s eye liner, messy smokey eye, and the smear of burgundy across your mouth

Wow, he’s right.

You are fuckin’ sexy.

#chittychatty #my scribblins #mary goore #mary mary quite contrary #sorry i can't seem to stop writing mary goore

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Thunderspear

>>>Read on AO3<<<

I totally forgot to crosspost the new chapter of my story yesterday, blame the leaks and the memes that those created :D

The hospital was busy, as it always was, yet Eren had trouble focusing. Here he was, back as functioning member of society after having a hedonistic break over the weekend. Sure, he lost the endurance contest to Mikasa but with her being an Ackerman and a professional athlete he would lie in saying that he didn’t see it coming. Then again, who cares who won, when the free time was spent doing what they were doing. Mikasa made even eating fun, and Eren smirked when he remembered licking ice-cream from her defined abs yesterday evening. When she complained about the cold, he apologized like the perfect gentleman before dumping the next scoop right on her left nipple.

No, get these thoughts out, no more thinking about the pretty contrast they made, when his tanned skin rubbed against her porcelain one, or the stark difference between the blackness of the ropes and the whiteness of her body. It wasn’t easy for Mikasa either, half a city away, because keeping your mind away from the memories was nigh impossible. Eren was so good with the rope, he managed to create beautiful patterns while making it look so easy, effortlessly integrating other toys into it too. Among other things, it was the spreader bar between her legs, rope around her torso, and Mikasa remembered being unable to move an inch which put her straight to cloud nine. She tried returning the favor, but her ropework was clumsy at best and while she managed to restrain Eren, it was nothing compared to what he could do. He created art with her body and was damn proud of it too. Wanting to see herself from his perspective, Mikasa asked him to snap a few pictures of how she looked in those intricate designs, and she still had them saved on her phone. Scrolling through them while having a lunch break was far from the correct workplace etiquette, but Mikasa couldn’t help herself.

In the hospital, Eren was guilty of the same sin, sitting in the break room while his fingers gently stroked the screen of his phone. While Mikasa was swooning over his bondage skills, Eren told her that a great deal of the act was her doing too. It was Mikasa’s toned body that allowed him to create these beauties, bend her in all those angles knowing that she could take it. She was the perfect model, the peak specimen, with strong arms and legs, incredible thighs and all the lean muscles that bulged under her flawless porcelain skin, not even mentioning the ass that was to die for. She was so strong, yet so delicate, her trusting Eren enough to let him tie her up was a privilege he treasured. What an amazing experience that was, any time it happened.

God damn it, now he was sporting a boner in the break room. Eren mentally slapped himself with a clear message to his libido - back to work. He had a lot on his plate today, not only the usual but in the afternoon he was expected at Hizuru for a meeting with Kiyomi. Only a tad bit intimidated by the old lady, Eren was very glad that Mikasa promised to meet him in the lobby and show him the way because just seeing her filled him with strength. Other people had lucky charms, he had his wonderful girlfriend.

His shift went fine, with only Ymir and Onya doing some mocking comments when they noticed the bruises on Eren’s neck left behind by Mikasa’s affections, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Before long, he was on his way to the agency. Once there, it was the matter of finding a parking spot and going inside, and Eren entered the same world that Mikasa got into.

The lobby was big, much bigger than Eren expected. Luckily, he wasn’t forced to do such a humiliating thing as asking for directions because a familiar figure pushed herself from the receptionist’s desk, where she was leaning, to make a line straight for him. Mikasa looked a bit strange today, her clothes were done in a futuristic cut and the jacket even had small led lights in it. It did fit together with the red stripe in her hair, so whoever made the decision for her to dye it was good at his job.

“I take it that you are working on the cyberpunk thing today?”, he asked when she came closer.

“What gave it away?”, her lips, painted purple for some reason, curled upwards.

“A simple hunch, nothing more.”

She didn’t answer that. Instead, her hands, purple nails too, he noticed, sneaked up into Eren’s collar and pulled down. Yanked down to her height, he was assaulted by a kiss that was most definitely more than the usual “Hello” one. Not one to question his fortune, Eren surrendered to her, letting her tangle her deft fingers into his hair while he anchored himself on her hips. The futuristic jeans she was wearing had little cutouts there, allowing him to stroke her porcelain skin directly, so maybe cyberpunk wasn’t such a bad fashion trend after all. When they finally broke apart, Mikasa was still wearing the satisfied smirk on her lips.

“Any reason for this?”, he asked, getting a firm shake of her head in return.

Eren didn’t need to know about the dreamy look that entered the receptionist’s eyes when he walked in. He didn’t need to know about the “Damn” the woman muttered under her breath while devouring him with her gaze. He didn’t need to know any of these things.

“Nope.”, she thumbed the corner of his mouth, purposely smearing the lipstick stain she left behind even more, “I’m just happy to see you.”

With that, she grabbed Eren’s hand and pulled him behind herself, passing very close to the reception. Petty, but who cares. Together, they made their way up to Kiyomi’s office, with Mikasa effortlessly navigating through the many corridors of the building. Eren was quite sure that he would have gotten lost even after getting the directions, so he was very glad that his fiancé had decided to save him.

Kiyomi was sitting behind a large desk in a throne-like chair, evocating the feeling of a director at the center of her power. What Eren noticed was that there were several pictures of his fiancé over her office, in various clothes, even a framed photo on Kiyomi’s desk. Apparently, he was not the only one bewitched by the beautiful martial artist. Seeing the two of them enter, Kiyomi narrowed her eyes at Mikasa.

“I didn’t realize that you are Mr. Yeager’s mother, Mikasa. Or is there other reason why he needs you at our meeting?”

Taking the hint, the raven let go of Eren’s hand.

“I’ll take my leave, but please be nice to him.”

“When am I not nice?”

Mikasa chuckled at that, pressing one last kiss to Eren’s cheek before disappearing through the door. When he sat down, the first thing Kiyomi did was hand him a wipe, gesturing at his face.

“Your girlfriend left a mark.”

Blood rising to his cheeks, Eren quickly cleaned himself to the best of his ability, getting the purple away from his skin. When he was deemed clean enough, Kiyomi nodded in satisfaction, letting Eren take the word. Free to speak, he decided to straight on tell her what he thought about this whole thing.

“I just want to tell you that I’m not thinking about a career change, this is a one-time thing for me.”

“I understand that.”

“Good, so when do we start shooting?”

“Today? Oh no Yeager, today we talk.”

“What about?”

“You see…”, Kiyomi’s eyes were trained at him, piercing through the mind, “I believe that you should get the most fitting setting for your photoshoot that I can provide, considering it is, as you said, a one-time thing. I want to talk to you and know exactly what is best for you individually, what will help my photographer get the most out of you.”

“The way you say it, makes me think that there is a much more to this job than meets the eye.”

“Most definitely. Anyone can snap a few pictures but what I aim at is to know your soul.”

No, that was not creepy at all.

“Okay…”

Seeing that he was taken aback by her intensity, Kiyomi went on.

“Look at Mikasa and tell me who in their right mind would ever want someone like her to be a model.”

“Are you saying that she’s not pretty enough?”

Kiyomi shook her head.

“We both know that her body was never a problem and her face is flawless - Mikasa is physically perfect. Her mind, that is a different story altogether. She is too rigid to work with, too closed up.”, the old woman tapped the side of her head, “Still, I knew that there was a diamond hidden inside, and I commissioned my best digger to get it out. It took time and effort, I won’t deny that, but the results are oh so worth it.”

Sitting back, the tycoon continued.

“Mikasa is a beautiful soul, and while she has trouble expressing herself when she does the emotions are incredibly powerful. She isn’t my best girl just because of how she looks, but also because of how she can feel herself into the scene, only a few other models can do it so perfectly. I attended several of her photoshoots, and I agree with Dot when he says that Mikasa could be a grade-A actress if she put her mind to it.”

“I don’t think she would be into that.”

“I agree, that is too much exposure for her liking. But this job, this is just the right amount. Mikasa has fire in her, and she can be incredibly creative when she wants to, but she hides it. It’s the same thing as her beauty, she doesn’t flaunt it at all. I don’t think I remember a single occasion when Mikasa came to work wearing something else than comfortable clothes. Also, it doesn’t help that she keeps dressing in that long-dead style.”, Kiyomi pursed her lips, saying the next word as if it would be an insult, “Goth.”

“What’s wrong with being comfortable?”

“Some of us keep up with the fashion trends, it’s more or less expected in this business.”, she sighed, “I won’t lie, it changes so fast that it’s almost a suffering.”

While not so sure about the suffering, Eren was inclined to agree on that first part. Despite her being the ice queen and all, Mikasa could be very playful, if their private adventures were any indicator. Looking back, one could label them as dumb and childish, but he couldn’t care less. He had fun, Mikasa had fun, and damn what anyone else would think about it. They weren’t invited in the first place.

“Here,”, Kiyomi was just saying, “Look at these.”

She placed two photos in front of him, both of Mikasa. In one, she was wearing her workout gear, sports bra and shorts, with her fists raised. In the second, she was in that cyberpunk getup Eren just saw her in.

“This is the first photo we have of Mikasa,”, Kiyomi tapped the workout picture, “And the other is the last one so far. Can you see the difference?”

To an untrained eye, it wouldn’t be that obvious, but Eren was very familiar with Mikasa’s face. In the first one, she was still doubtful about this whole thing, her expression was tight and reserved, even though the clothes she was modeling were something she was wearing practically every day. In the last one, the raven was much more relaxed, leaning on a bike and looking into the camera with a cocky expression, one eyebrow raised.

“I can see that she is really into it now, that you’ve managed to dig out that diamond.”, he told Kiyomi, “But I still don’t know why you are showing me this.”

“So you can see for yourself that I’m not talking out of my ass. I really do want to capture you in your best light Eren, and I am very good at finding it. Trust me with this, I can make this whole thing work. If someone as reserved as your girlfriend could find working for me fun and fulfilling, why couldn’t you?”

The spark that was in Kiyomi’s eyes when she spoke about Mikasa made Eren wonder just how much the old woman loved her leading girl.

“You really like working with her.”

“And who wouldn’t? She is so inspiring! Martial arts were always dominated by men and for an understandable reason. The male body has much higher muscle mass than us women, they are built that much better for fighting.”, Kiyomi ran her hand down the framed picture of Mikasa, almost lovingly, “Yet there she is. Standing in the ring, head held high and fists raised, knocking anyone who tries her on their ass – man, woman it doesn’t matter to her. A female, yet destroying anyone and anything in her way, stronger and faster than a normal human being.”

Mikasa wasn’t lying when she said that Kiyomi can get excited rather easily. Her eyes were full of emotion when she spoke, voice filled with awe.

“She had to work that much harder to get where she is, to overcome the genetic difference, and she did it so perfectly. She is a goddess, Eren, a warrior like no other, and I hope you know that.”, suddenly, her eyes bore into his, “You are treating her with the respect she deserves, aren’t you?”

The chill that ran down Eren’s spine reminded him of the one he got any time Mikasa used her murderous glare at him. God damn it, were these two women related?

“O-Of course.”, he blurted, “She deserves only the best.”

“That’s correct.”

And just as it appeared, the look was gone and Kiyomi was once again an energetic old lady.

“It is very good to see that you understand just how incredible Mikasa is.”

“I know. Sometimes I wake up and wonder why an angel like her would ever grace me with her presence.”

“Would you say that she has a positive effect on your life?”

“I would say that she is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Good, good. Looks like the boy was exactly as taken with Mikasa as Kiyomi wanted him to be, if there was one thing she despised it was ugly break-ups. Those always generated way too much of unwanted press, because journalists loved jumping at vulnerable young people and profiting from their misery.

“Ah, but don’t sell yourself that short.”

Eren’s brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You, my dear boy, are also fascinating.“

“Why is that? Last I checked I’m not knocking guys thrice my size down on their asses.”

“No, you don’t, but you have other qualities.”, Kiyomi leaned backwards in her throne-chair, “When I was signing Mikasa up, I had those closest to her checked out, so I know quite a bit about you.”

Eren couldn’t help but wonder at that.

“Checked out? Why?”

“I’m very careful about who I sign up to lead my collections. Any sort of past mistakes that could be dug up could end up hurting my brand. And nobody hurts my brand if I can help it.”

“Understandable.”

Kiyomi rewarded his open mind with a smile.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I know quite a bit about you.”, she pointed at him, the gold ring on her long finger glistening, “You were born into wealth, Eren, with the assets your father left behind you and Carla could have been sipping drinks at the beach while drowning in supermodels.”

“Technically, I have one at home now.”, Eren chimed in, but Kiyomi ignored that jab in favor of her narrative.

“But did either of you do that? No. Your mother started a charity and is working tirelessly for a better world while you chose one of the most stressful professions there is. Why?”

“I like helping people.”

“Because…?”

“The thought of someone being limited by an illness or an injury does not sit well with me. I want to free people from the burden, to help them live to their fullest. If that is not enough, then my father was also an inspiration, I wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s a noble goal.”

“I don’t see it like that.”

“Doesn’t make it any less noble.”

Eren shrugged, but Kiyomi didn’t mind. She already had all the info she needed.

“Eren, would you mind if we turned your photoshoot into a couple one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that it would go better if we let you and Mikasa work together, show some chemistry.”, Kiyomi leaned forward, “From what I’ve heard, I imagine that she is a very big part of your life.”

“She most certainly is.”

“Then would that be a problem?”

“A problem? No, of course not.”, Eren ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously, “Honestly, I’m relieved that she will be there with me.”

“Very good, then it's settled.”, standing up, Kiyomi offered her hand “Yelena will get in touch with you about the exact date.”

And after Eren shook it and left the office, she picked up her phone dialing a familiar number.

“Dot? I have the perfect setup for this thing. What? No. Shush and picture this - We are going to create a little apocalypse for them.”

A few days passed. The last preliminary match was done yesterday, and in all honesty it was fairly easy. Mikasa breezed through it and put her opponent on his back in just a few rounds, taking the first spot in the qualifier and solidifying her position in the Vegas finals. She didn’t get hit at all really, too fast for the poor guy, which meant that right the next morning she was back at the gym, working on herself. The door to the office opened and Levi emerged, crossing the distance to where she was. They nodded at each other in a form of greeting.

“Any tips about yesterday?”

“Not really, you breezed through the match exactly as I expected. The thing I came to talk to you about is that technique I asked you to develop, have you been working on it?”

“I did think about it, but I somehow can’t come up with anything I need.”, she sat up on the bench, eyes meeting Levi’s, “Any ideas?”

“That’s the thing, we reached the point where you have surpassed me when it comes to fighting.”

“What, you want to stop being my trainer?”

Levi barked out a laugh.

“Of course not, I’ll keep drilling you for a long, long time. But when it comes to this, I feel like it is something that you have to develop mostly on your own with only some tips from me.”

“Fine.”, Mikasa shrugged, “So, want to throw those my way?”

“First of all, I think that whatever you do, it has to be a kick, not a punch. For obvious reasons.”

It was easy to see what Levi meant. Kicks are inherently stronger than punches, and with the beasts Mikasa was about to face, she would need to deliver the most damaging hits she could do.

“Next,” Levi went on, “It should be aimed to surprise, to stagger and to crack the armor these guys have. Like Reiner, you’ve watched his matches right?”

“Yea, when he turtles, it’s like he’s not feeling the opponent’s hits at all.”

“That’s his thing, he calls it the “Armor”.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s quite simple. He’s a big guy, and with the muscles Reiner developed, he can shrug off anything that gets thrown at him in the ring. As long as he protects his vitals, which he does in that stance, he’s practically invincible. Too heavy to throw, too stable to trip. And don’t forget that he trains with Annie, so he won’t underestimate you. At all.”

“And the more you hit him, the more frustrated you get and open yourself up to counters.”, Mikasa added.

“Exactly. So you need something that will shatter his armor, get through that defense and allow you to do damage.”

A kick, one strong enough to get through Reiner’s armor. Mikasa felt like she could do it, but one doubt kept nibbling at the back of her mind.

“Won’t a kick open me up?”, she asked, “It’s a lot slower than a punch.”

“Not if you do it fast enough. Your speed is your best weapon, there is no way in hell you can match fighters like Reiner or Fahkumram in strength. You are already fast, but you need to be even faster and convert that into the kick – speed is force, after all.”

“All right, I’ll start working on it then. Oh, and shouldn’t a new technique have a name?”

Levi’s eyes that rolled up and the unamused look on his face gave her the answer even before he spoke.

“I feel like you are playing way too many videogames with Eren.”

But Mikasa wouldn’t be deterred so easily.

“How about Armor Cracker? Or…”, she tried a practice kick, the air whooshing around her leg, “Wind breaker?”

“That sounds like a fart.”

“You are not exactly helping.”, she frowned at her brother, “Come on, you must have some ideas.”

“A-really-fast-kick?”

“Levi, you have the imagination of a politician.”

Mikasa kicked the air again, thinking.

“Galeforce! Or Stridebreaker! Or…”

“Thunder Spear!”

Turning to where the voice came from, Mikasa saw Hange standing there with a huge smile plastered to her face.

“I LOVE creating new names, you have to let me have this one.”, she said, a polar opposite to Levi’s attitude, “It fits too, wouldn’t you say?”

Technically, Mikasa could see her legs as spears. And the power of the kick would have to be explosive to crack Reiner’s amor, and thunder was an explosive force. In short, it was a good name, fitting.

“All right, Thunder Spear it is then.”

Hange’s smile got even wider, but it was Levi who spoke.

“Fine, whatever. Now don’t forget to develop this Thunder Spear of yours, or Reiner will have a field day once you two meet in Vegas.”

The finals were creeping ever closer, and the monsters Mikasa had to fight would be all there, the ones she would have to defeat to reach the top. To do so, she would have to hone this Thunder Spear of hers to the highest possible quality.

Armin felt nervous when opening his email lately, the feeling caused by the several ongoing dialogues he had with various publishers. His book was finished, and now it was the time to see if anyone would print it. Eyes rowing over the lines of text, his blues widened when he read the title of his newest e-mail. Re-reading it, just to be sure, Armin felt a wave of excitement wash over him.

“You okay?”

The two words almost made him jump before he realized that Jean was there, looking at him over the rim of his notebook. They were spending a lot of time together lately, and while Armin had a suspicion that the entity of Eren and Mikasa asked Jean to keep an eye on him, he honestly didn’t mind. They haven’t talked much in college, since Armin was busy being the glue that kept his two best friends together and Jean was out doing his own thing. He learned a lot in a few days, about the career Jean made in marketing and the business he had set up, designed in a way that it was more-or-less autonomous at this point. As long as he had access to the internet, Jean could manage it from anywhere on the planet. Which meant that the move he had recently, one that was supposed to be a short-term before the whole thing with Hitch happened, didn’t affect him in the slightest.

Instead of answering the question, Armin turned his laptop towards Jean, letting him read the mail for himself.

“Finally! I knew this is going to happen! Who is that again…”, taking the name of the publisher, Jean ran it through the search engine, jumping a few websites to get an overall picture.

“Looks trustworthy, but their marketing is kinda ass. I’ll get int touch with them and see if they would like any help in that area.”

“You would do that?”

Jean smirked.

“Count on me Armin, I’ll make this thing into a bestseller.”

The moment they shared was interrupted when Armin’s eyes moved down to see the clock in the corner of his screen.

“Oh damn, I have to run, I have lunch with Mikasa.”

“Don’t let me keep you.”, Jean laughed, fingers dancing over the keyboard, “And say hello for me.”

One frantic car ride later, Armin was sitting at the restaurant and telling the exciting news to Mikasa.

“I had an e-mail from a publisher. Believe it or not, people actually want to print my book!”

“Why wouldn’t I believe it? I knew you had it in you Armin.”, she clapped him on the shoulder, enthusiastic, “That’s amazing news!”

“Thanks, I still have to wrap my head around it myself, that it’s happening. I wish I could take it as easy as Jean, the moment I told him he was already planning a marketing campaign for the book.”

“You should let him help, he’s a god when it comes to promotion, both Levi’s gym and the Third Wheel benefited from his work. In fact, I think that I have a gift for you too.”

“Really? It’s not even my birthday.”

“The billboard Kiyomi gave me, I want you to have it.”

“I couldn’t….”

Mikasa didn’t let him finish.

“I won’t take no for an answer Ar. I don’t need my face plastered all over it, it’s kind of strange driving past it on my way to the gym.”

“Can I even use it?”

“Why couldn’t you, it’s mine. I’ll talk to Kiyomi and have her set me up with the people who can change it properly.”

“I-… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t. If your story will have success that’s more than enough for me.”

They talked about various things, catching up and whatnot. One question kept dancing in the back of the raven’s mind, the one that wasn’t satisfied, not even when Jean reported that Armin is doing great. Swallowing the food, Mikasa manned up and went for it.

“Have you thought about Annie?”

Slowly, Armin put down his fork and folded his hands, expression tightening.

“I did. But I still have no idea what to tell her once I see her again.”

The spark in Armin’s eyes, the want in his voice, it made Mikasa realize that she wasn’t completely honest with him about everything that transpired. He was one of her best friends, and he deserved to know the truth, despite how ugly it was. So, taking a deep breath, Mikasa pushed it out.

“There’s something you don’t know Ar… That night... I found Annie after saving you.”

“You did what?”

“ I was so angry, so pissed at her, I just had to see her. I found her in a park, we fought and I…”, Mikasa’s eyes dropped back to her hands, unable to meet Armin’s gaze.

“I almost beat her to death.”

“W-What?”

“I couldn’t stop myself. You almost… You nearly… We almost lost you Ar. I almost lost you. The pain in me was too fresh, too deep, I had to get it out.”, Mikasa’s voice was full of guilt and suffering when she continued, “You don’t even know how much I value you, how much Eren values you. You are incredibly important to us both.”, she clenched her fists under the table, “I know that this isn’t the high school, but I will do anything in my power to protect you, I’ll beat any bullies who dare hurt you.”

Despite all this, Armin could feel that Mikasa had more.

“There is still something you are not telling me.”, he said in a soft voice, making her nod.

“She came to the gym, a few weeks after the incident, said that she wanted to talk to you.”, Mikasa couldn’t meet Armin’s eyes, she stared at her hands instead, “I told her to fuck off. You were so vulnerable back then… I-I couldn’t let her hurt you again.”

“Hey, Mikasa? Look at me please.”

She did, fearful of what she will see in those ocean eyes. Armin had every right to hate her for what she had done, she overstepped her boundaries and in her overprotective manner sent Annie away. Yet what she saw wasn’t blame, and it felt like a giant weight off her shoulders.

“I wasn’t ready to see her back then, so I think that you acted right.”, he put his hand on the table in an offering that Mikasa took, covering his hand with her own.

“Thank you.”, Armin said, meaning every word, “Thank you for protecting me, and more importantly thank you for being honest.”

“I’m sorry..”

“Don’t apologize. What’s done is done, and now we can only move forward.”

Even embarrassed as she was, Mikasa had to smile at that.

“Move forward? Did you get that phrase from Eren?”

“He says that a lot doesn’t he. That and the thing with setting people free from their injuries, sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a….”

“Serial killer.”, Mikasa finished for him, “Eren does emit that feeling when he is like that.”

Thumbing the engagement ring on her finger, Armin had an idea.

“Tell me, if Eren was a serial killer, would you still date him?”

“Most likely, if he was as hot as he is now.”

Armin blinked up, looking at Mikasa’s face that was completely serious as she continued.

“After all, killing is probably not even that hard.”, she clicked her tongue, “I’d imagine it’s like slicing meat, and that is my specialty.”

She kept the straight face for another ten seconds, and each felt like an hour to Armin. Mikasa talking about murders was somehow terrifying, the look she had chilled him to the bone, and knowing that she is the strongest person he knew didn’t help. Just as he was about to start being seriously afraid, the expression broke and Mikasa laughed, hiding her mouth behind a hand.

“You should see your face!”, she squeezed out, “It’s so pale!”

Armin grumbled, pulling his hand back and overall acting hurt for about two seconds before Mikasa snapped a quick picture of him and damn, he really was pale.

“Keep the killing out of our conversation and we can have a nice lunch, what do you say?”

She smiled, picking up the fork again.

“Okay, but only because it’s you, Mr. Big-shot writer.”

He groaned, she laughed again but obeyed and kept the murderous references to the minimum. It was a nice day, yet she had no idea what the night had in store for her.

Mikasa woke up in cold sweat, her hand automatically reaching over to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. The rush of fear that jumped up in her heart threatened to overwhelm her completely, to make her scream out in panic before Mikasa’s brain started working. Eren was at work, pulling a night shift. He would come back in the morning. There was nothing to be scared about. Breathing, in and out, she pulled her legs to her chest and hugged them, forming a small ball. Here, hidden inside herself, she could shield her thoughts from the outside world and replay the nightmare in her head.

The dream was terrible. She remembered Sasha being dead, she remembered her grave and herself sitting next to it, quietly sobbing into her scarf. She remembered being on a boat, going somewhere, and she remembered flying, talking with Jean about got knows what. There was an underlying feeling to the whole dream, a terrible dread and sadness, washing it all in shades of black.

Blindly, she reached out, taking her phone and staring at it. Who could she call to make herself feel good again? Eren was at work, and while he would most likely take her call he couldn’t just sit in the hospital talking to his crazy girlfriend after she had another nightmare. Knowing how he was, Eren would probably take off and come home to her, and Mikasa didn’t want that. She hated feeling like a burden. Without thinking, her fingers scrolled until she tapped a familiar name, putting the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”, said the sleepy voice on the other end, “Miks? Is something wrong?”

“Sasha.”, she said, intertwining her fingers with her toes, “I just couldn’t sleep and realized we haven’t talked in some time. So, want to grab a lunch tomorrow?”

The girl on the other side laughed, and just the sound of it, knowing that she is safe and very much alive filled Mikasa with warmth.

“Sure, I’ll never say no to free food.”

Hours later, they were sitting at the restaurant Mikasa picked. But while Sasha was content with eating, as she usually was, the raven kept checking up on her friend, the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in her mind. It reached the point where she just had to ask, no matter how dumb it did sound.

“Are you feeling okay? Is everything fine?”

Sasha looked up from her food, eyes narrowing.

“Is this about the dreams again?”

Mikasa pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding, knowing that she was acting unreasonably. Of course, Sasha knew about her night terrors, they were roommates for a long time and friends even longer. Embarrassed by her overprotectiveness, Mikasa looked away and was just about to apologize when Sasha reached out, taking a hold of her hand.

“Listen Miks, everything is great for me. I’m good, my pub is doing well, and sometimes I could swear that I feel something in my legs.”

“You do?”

“Yes, although it’s nothing to celebrate yet, my doctor said that it might be just a way how my brain rewards itself for all the physical therapy I’ve been doing.”

She squeezed Mikasa’s hand.

“But the most important thing is that I am very fine, no matter what your dreams told you.”

“I think I needed to hear that. Thank you.”

“Listen, why don’t I cheer you up even more.”, meeting Mikasa’s confused eyes, Sasha went on, “I’ll call the other girls, have a night out, what do you say?”

Well, why the hell not? It has been some time since she was out, and it was always nice to talk to Krista and Ymir, despite the latter’s double-edged comments. You know what, scratch that – it was always nice to talk to Krista. Period. Her preliminary matches were done too, meaning that the self-imposed alcohol ban was over.

“Sure, let’s do that.”, Mikasa agreed, much to Sasha’s glee.

They got quite a band together, with both Ymir and Krista coming. Even Hitch found a hole in her packed schedule, squeezing this event in. The only one who couldn’t make it was Hange, who apologized and said that she is way too swamped at work to be out drinking right now. With few hours to kill, Sasha and Mikasa hit the town. Between the senseless shopping and raiding all kinds of places, Mikasa found herself laughing a lot, the thoughts of Annie and tournament gone from her head. And when they were taking a break, eating ice cream on a bench, she realized that it was way too long since they had done this. Because knowing that Sasha is alive and well, hearing her laugh, that soothed Mikasa’s soul. When the day was ending and the shadows grew tall, it was time to head to the bar and meet up with the others. Which also meant getting bombarded by Ymir’s “tactics” about how Mikasa should fight.

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, blast them with concentrated energy?”

Ymir made the motion with her hands, imitating the sounds too. Mikasa sighed, putting her glass back on the table.

“This is not dragon ball Ymir.”

“Still, I feel like you are making it overly complicated. You want to kick them, just kick them!”

“I need to figure out the best angle, and have my body put enough strength behind it on its own because I don’t think that my mind can keep up, and….”

“Blah blah. As I said,”, Ymir poked Krista who seemed to be listening to Mikasa’s ranting, “way too complicated. Now Eren, that guy had a lot of interesting things to say.”

Mikasa very quickly connected the dots and realized what Ymir was talking about, her cheeks reddening. Ymir wouldn’t talk about that here, would she?

“What things?”, a new voice asked.

The trio jumped up, none of them noticing that Sasha had sneakily wheeled herself close. She was looking at them now, her eyes wide and innocent, sipping on her drink with a straw.

“What interesting thing are you guys talking about?”, she repeated.

Mikasa stared at Krista, Krista stared at Mikasa, Sasha stared at them all and Ymir was the only one who wasn’t bothered by it at all. She took a casual sip of her drink, a smirk on her face.

“We asked Mikasa if she wanted to have a threesome with us.”

There was stunned silence after. Krista was the one who woke up first, punching her girlfriend in the shoulder, a movement she had done so many times that it was practically mastered at this point.

“Ymir.”, she hissed, “What the hell?!”

Mikasa’s eyes ticked between the three faces in front of her, unsure how to respond to such a statement, and it was Sasha who reacted first. She looked the raven up and down before giving a respectful nod.

“Okay, I can see why you would want that.”

“What?”

“I know right.”, Ymir nodded, wise all of a sudden, “And it’s not like you can’t choose, if you are more into guys, I’m sure that Hitch and Jean would take you.”

“Hitch would do what?”, asked the woman in question, appearing from the bar and carrying her drink.

“Have a threesome with Mikasa.”, Sasha explained.

The therapist met the raven’s bewildered eyes before sliding her gaze over her face and down.

“Sure, I’d go for it.”

“Hitch!”, now it was Mikasa who was hissing, her cheeks red, “You too?”

“Of course, have you ever looked in the mirror?”, the light-haired woman gave her a sly wink, “I’d most definitely go for you.”

“Same here.”, Sasha chimed in.

“Us too.”, Ymir added, while Krista was hiding her face in her hands, wishing to be gone.

Mikasa was suddenly very conscious of all the eyes on her, no idea how to react. Since when did all her friends become so horny for her?

“Listen, I-I a-appreciate the offers, but I’m not looking for anything right now. Eren is enough, more than enough.”

“Hey, no one is pressuring you.”, Sasha said, raising her glass, “But if you ever grow bored of the good doctor, know that there’s plenty of us you can call.”

The night continued in a relaxed manner, now that the unnecessary proposals were off the table. Catching up felt good, knowing that her friends were still there and living their best life. Ymir and Krista were the dynamic duo, Hitch was the one with clever comebacks, and Sasha was the life of the party. For once, Mikasa let go and simply had fun. Because it was fun sending drunken selfies to Eren, Connie and Jean, to let them know how much they are missing. The only thing that bothered her was the way Sasha kept checking her phone as if she was waiting for something. When asked, she just brushed it aside, which prompted Mikasa’s protective instincts to act.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Sasha smiled at her, pocketing the phone she was checking. Again.

“Of course, we are best friends, aren’t we?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, best friend, if you feel so inclined, how about you grab me another drink?”

Mikasa giggled but took her glass anyway, walking towards the bar. And when Sasha leaned back, a smile playing on her lips, her phone decided that it was finally the time to beep. Checking, she could see that there was a text from Niccolo, just two words, but it made her heartbeat rise. Because those two words, that was exactly that Sasha was waiting for.

“It’s time.”

Every pause must come to an end, and the action will resume. The next morning found Mikasa back at the gym, trying and failing with the new technique. The bag swayed with her kick, leather creaking, but it wasn’t it. The angle was wrong. The power was not enough. It wasn’t finished, far from it. Mikasa groaned in frustration, trying again, but nothing changed. She lacked the spark, the something that would allow her to pump out the power required for the Thunderspear. Her body was capable of producing the kick, she knew she could do it, but it was not happening. Maybe she was feeling lazy, maybe the recent victories gave Mikasa too much of an ego. As it was now, she would never break through Reiner. In her mind’s eye, she saw him standing right there, a smug smile on his lips as he effortlessly shrugged off her attacks. Closing her eyes, Mikasa massaged her temples to stave off the headache that was slowly creeping up. She was frustrated, pissed off, angry at herself.

“Need any help?”

She turned, startled, only to meet the eyes of a tall individual.

“Jean? What are you doing here?”

“Hitch said that you will most likely be training again, and I thought that I could go for a workout as well. It was some time since I flexed my muscles.”, he pointed at the abused bag, “And I can see that you are struggling with something.”

“I’m trying to create a new kick that will break through strong guards. But I can’t get it to work, I feel like I don’t have the motivation or something…”

“Here.”, Jean climbed up, jumping into the ring, “How about you try it on me instead?”

Well, it was better than kicking the bag for no reason. It was probably even better than if Eren would be here to help, because while Levi insisted that he has a very “kickable” face, Mikasa strongly disagreed. Her emotional attachment could block her from going all out. Of course, Jean was her friend, but there is a difference between the love of your life and a good friend. Jean was taller than Reiner and way skinnier, but at least he was a human and it was easier to imagine the German tank standing there.

“Let’s just do some sparring, get pumped up.”, Mikasa suggested.

They did so, trading punches back and forth, while the raven tried her best to come up with the right move for her Thunderspear. Jean did his best, with the basic Krav Maga he knew, but it was not enough to even get her winded. Understandably so, she was the prodigy here. A prodigy who can’t even kick hard enough. Gritting her teeth, Mikasa stared at Jean, imagining the blond head of Reiner. The muscles, the sure and steady legwork, the cold expression, the short yet incredibly well-balanced body, the hooked nose and startlingly blue eyes and… wait. That was not Reiner she was imagining. That was Annie. The familiar cold filled her, the one she felt only once, back in the rain when she almost killed her. On that terrible night when she almost lost Armin. The rage was back, not burning but freezing, filling her with ice.

But the last nudge that happened didn’t come from her memories of Annie, that came from Jean’s face. Watching it, Mikasa’s mind was flooded with those strange dreams, the flashbacks from another lifetime, her headache back in full force. She could smell the burning bodies, she could hear destruction. Jean was next to her, dressed in a black uniform, his mouth moving and forming words she had trouble understanding. Only two were crystal clear – “Kill” and “Eren”.

Kill Eren? No, she wouldn’t do that, no matter what kind of different life that was. She would never hurt the man she loved, her fiancé. If that wouldn’t be enough, her heart throbbed with pain when the thoughts of Sasha resurfaced, claiming that something terrible happened to her, worse than the shooting accident she was in. As if her former roommate and one of her best friends died, and that left a hole in Mikasa’s heart. The feeling was still strong, despite the lunch they had together and the night out. Whatever these memories were, wherever they came from, those combined with her rivalry with Annie and clicked together, sneaking through her brain and unlocking the hidden capabilities of her body.

Was it stupid? Maybe, but it didn’t matter. Mikasa knew that neither of these terrible tragedies happened. She knew that Sasha was alive and well, she knew that there was nothing in this world that was forcing her to kill Eren. This remnant of her past life, or a random thing that her mind made up, it was enough to push her over the edge. Just like that, Mikasa knew exactly what she had to do. And as the headache subsided, leaving only the bitter taste of the memories behind, her body overcame its limitations. Mikasa would do anything to prevent such a terrible fate befalling her friends, to protect them she was willing to go above and beyond. Roused by the nightmares, loaded by the unfair and terrible hardships her dream-self had to endure, the Thunderspear was ready to fire.

Jean must have noticed the change in her behavior too, because he stopped attacking, pulled back and went on the defensive. It was not enough. Mikasa aimed the Thunderspear in the middle of his torso, kicking right into Jean’s block which immediately cracked under the pressure. He was sent flying back, falling onto the ropes and sliding down like a ragdoll, boneless.

The drawback was immediately obvious. The kick was done with her whole body, all muscles working together to create such a strong blow. Once fired, Mikasa was hit by a wave of slight nausea as she swayed on her feet, almost doubling over. This wasn’t an attack that could be used freely - if she went for it and missed, Mikasa was open to any sort of counterattack. It took her a sweet moment to recompose herself, get her body back under control and realize that this wasn’t Annie she was fighting but her friend.

“Jean, are you okay?”, she quickly crossed the distance and fell to her knees, looking over his form.

“I... I think so?”, he grimaced, trying to sit up and failing at that, “Honestly, I sort of can’t feel half of myself. Holy shit your legs are strong.”

Scared that she hurt him for real, Mikasa did a quick checkup but her hands didn’t find any fractures. Jean sat up again, this time successfully, giving her a small nod to indicate that nothing permanent was inflicted. Relieved, Mikasa helped him stand, stabilizing his swaying with a hand around Jean’s shoulders.

“I think I finally managed to find the right angle.”, she said, getting a weak grin in answer.

“Glad I could help, but please don’t kick me like that again.”

“I won’t. And thank you, I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“My dad should be around here somewhere.”, Annie was saying, looking left and right.

“It’s nice to have a ride off the airport.”, Reiner pointed out, “Saves on the taxi.”

The prospect of seeing her father again did leave a sour taste on Annie’s mind. She was not exactly sure that she was ready to forgive the man, despite her talk from earlier. The expression didn’t go unnoticed by Reiner, as he poked her shoulder with a grin.

“What’s wrong Annie? Thinking about that Mikasa girl again?”

“Oh my god, are you Mikasa’s fans as well? I heard you talking about her.”

Annie turned to meet the eyes of a young girl with shoulder-length light hair and an expression that was the definition of excited. There was a bag over the girl's shoulder and wheeled travel luggage behind her, indicating that she too had just arrived on the plane. What caught Annie’s attention was a magazine the girl was holding, because right there on the front page there she was. Her nemesis, if you will, Mikasa Ackerman in all her glory, dressed in her fighting gear and with her fists raised, steel-grey eyes staring right into Annie’s. The girl noticed where the blonde was looking, raising the magazine.

“This is one of the earlier issues, I’ve been re-reading them recently.”, she giggled, nervously, “I just love Mikasa so much, I can’t get enough. I watched every fight, every interview, read every word I could find. She’s just so great, isn’t she?”

As if remembering her manners, she finally introduced herself.

“I’m Louise, by the way.”

Annie wasn’t sure how to react when meeting the adoring fan of someone she was here to beat, but luckily Reiner stepped in, leaning over to the girl.

“The only interest we have in Mikasa is how to beat her.”, he gestured towards their little trio, “We are all fighters, here to take the tourney, so Ackerman is just another step on the road for us.”

Louise’s expression turned from an excited smile into a frown and she clutched the magazine close to her chest.

“There is no way any of you are beating Mikasa. She’s going to win because she is the best, you guys don’t stand a chance.”

Reiner grinned, spreading his hands.

“Guess we will see about that.”

Louise huffed, raising her head high and grabbing the luggage behind her. Turning, she walked away at a brisk pace, not sparing the blasphemers any more of her attention.

“Looks like the Ackerman girl is quite popular.”, Bert said, “More than I expected to be honest.”

“It’s not just fighting, she’s a model too.”, Annie remembered, “Appeals to the masses.”

“A model huh?”, Reiner put a hand on her shoulder, “Well, maybe she’ll have to consider a career change once you rearrange her face, isn’t that right Annie?”

But there wasn’t any burning hatred for Mikasa in Annie’s heart. She used the girl to motivate herself, yet she felt deep respect towards her. The raven was the only person as dedicated as Annie herself, the only one that understood the deep need to prove herself in this sport. Reiner and Bert, they were good friends, but they didn’t understand it, they never could. Yet she had to keep her appearances up, so despite herself, Annie grinned at the joke.

“Right.”

In the edge of her vision, a familiar figure appeared, and Annie shifted so she could see it better. Her father was there, waiting, leaning on a cane. He didn’t see them yet, giving Annie the time to study his anxious expression as his eyes scanned the airport, looking for his daughter. Was she ready to face him again? Did she want to? Then again, did she have a choice here?

“Oh look, it's your dad.”, Bert said, taking the choice away from her completely.

“Let’s go.”, Reiner decided for the group, casually throwing his heavy bag over a shoulder and walking towards the old man.

With Berthold following close behind, Annie gave up on her drama queen routine and forced her body to move too, trailing behind her mates.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #aot

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nayutai · 4 years

Text

Bad Boy Bakery

↠ Pairing Yeosang x Female OC

↠ Genre fluffy dirty angst

↠ Word Count 11.806

↠ Warnings infidelity (kinda sorta), mutual pining, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), foul language, crude jokes, fingering, tattooed yeosang, mentions of criminal activity

↠ Summary Yeosang has a storied past and most of it is documented at the local police station. That’s the past though. These days he’s too busy running a semi-successful bakery with his best friends. After securing an order for the engagement party of well-known socialite Ivy Maxwell, he thinks his business might finally be taking off. He may have bitten off more than he could chew though.

It’s decided. Yeosang is going back to jail. Why he thought hiring the seven other misfits he used to run with to work in his bakery was a good idea he’ll never know. Bad Boy Bakery was supposed to be his way to get his life back on the right track and all these heathens do is test him every single day. He does a quick mental calculation of how much money is stashed around his house and he’s positive he’s got enough to post bail for a simple assault charge, but then again they might try to make an example of him considering his impressive arrest record. With the way he’s being tested at this moment though, he’s willing to spend every penny if it means he gets to beat Mingi into oblivion.

“Mingi, I swear to God if you fuck up another batch of egg whites I’m going to shove that whisk in your ear and beat your brains.” He glares at the clumsy giant vigorously whisking a bowl full of egg whites that already look like they’re begging for mercy. They have to have a full dessert spread ready for an engagement party that’s taking place in less than six hours and Mingi has ruined more eggs than Yeosang is even comfortable counting.

“Man, shut up. I did three years upstate. My arms are too damn strong for this which is exactly why I told your dumb ass to do it.” Everybody groans out loud at having to hear that exact phrase for what has to be the millionth time.

“That was over a year ago and you haven’t lifted anything heavier than a bag of flour ever since. Give it a rest.” Wooyoung garners a round of hearty laughter at his dig, looking quite pleased with himself at successfully bashing his friend.

“I make up for it by jacking off five times a day instead of four now so my point still stands.”

“I hope you wash your hands just as much.” The group of tattooed bakers loudly express their disgust when Mingi gives them nothing but a devious grin in response. Mingi, on the other hand, is phased by neither his friends’ disgust not Yeosang’s bristling anger as he dumps his third attempt at the egg whites into the garbage. So much for third time’s the charm.

Yep, Yeosang is going back to jail.

Ivy is resigned as she carefully sweeps her brush across both of her cheekbones. The glittery gold of the highlight powder left in its wake perfectly complements the rich sepia tone of her skin. She’s just as precise in the application of her lipstick. Slowly, but surely, painting her lips a deep purple. She sighs as she gives herself a final once over in her vanity mirror. The inky black curls that normally adorn her head like a crown have been forced into straightened submission indicative of her mother’s urge to impress the crowd of people that Ivy can already hear beginning to gather downstairs. Her left hands feels uncomfortably heavy as it has ever since this nightmare first began.

As if sensing her procrastination, Ivy’s mother Yvette comes striding into her daughter’s bedroom. It’s easy to tell how much she’s enjoying playing her mother of the bride role. She hasn’t stopped smiling since Ivy’s engagement to her long-time “boyfriend” was officially announced last month. Needless to say, she’s the only one finding any joy in this situation.

“Ivy, sweetie, hurry up and come downstairs. Everyone is waiting to see you.”

“Yeah, right.” Ivy scoffs in response. “They just want to see this.” Yvette frowns at the way Ivy glares in disdain at the stunning ring adorning her finger.

“Ivy Elaine Peters, you better get it to together right now. Keeping this family business afloat requires sacrifice and its your turn now stop moping and get your narrow ass downstairs.” Her mother disappears back out the door before Ivy can get in a word of her own. Not that it would have mattered. Her fate has been sealed for the past twenty four years.

She slips her feet into the black patent leather pumps still sitting pretty in the box on her canopy bed. The red soled beauties are sure to provide more status than comfort, but such is life. Ivy gives herself one final pep talk, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in her slip dress. She looks more like a fashionable mourner than a blushing bride but this is her silent protest. She’ll make her damn sacrifice but she’ll dig her heels in wherever she can.

Ivy quickly spots her fiancee Seokjin cracking jokes with a few of her cousins near the front door. He beams at her when he catches her eye across the room, breaking away to come greet her. Not for the first time, Ivy wonders why she couldn’t just fall in love with him to make this whole process easier. Their families have known each other longer than they’ve both been alive so they grew up as best friends. Plus, Seokjin is genuinely a great guy. He’s charismatic, kind, and attractive to the point of unfairness. She has no doubt that he’d make a fantastic husband for someone. She just wishes that she wasn’t that someone. The only positive is that Seokjin feels the exact same way. He loves Ivy to pieces in the most platonic way possible. She’s quite possibly the last person he would ever consider marrying, but business is business and this is a merger that must be made.

“You look absolutely stunning, Vee.” She smiles gratefully at his compliment as he bends slightly to kiss her on the cheek. A camera flashes somewhere off to her right so she makes sure to play her happiness up for the photographer. With the combined notoriety of their families, any pictures taken tonight are sure to be all over the local and regional news outlets by morning.

“I could say the same about you, Jinnie.” The tips of his ears turn red as they always do whenever anyone compliments him. Ivy giggles playfully when he ducks the hand reaching up to tweak on of them like she always does, choosing instead to square up like he’s ready for a fight. Oh, Jin, ever the entertainer. The numerous peals of laughter that erupt around the couple as they take turns jabbing at each other like children tells her that their antics are paying off.

The two imposters spend the night putting on one hell of a show. Anyone would be hard pressed to find someone that didn’t think they’re madly in love with one another. Their parents couldn’t be more ecstatic about this outcome if they tried.

Everyone is seated at the lavishly decorated tables set up in the backyard as an army of waiters replaces empty entree plates with various cakes and tarts that look almost too delectable to eat. The cheesecake placed in front of Ivy looks nearly too beautiful to eat. Topped with fresh berries and drizzled in what smells like some sort of hazelnut sauce. She wishes she hadn’t left her cellphone upstairs so that she could take a quick picture of it for her instagram. When she finally gets over her reluctance, she take a small bite. A borderline pornographic moan escapes her lips, catching Jin way off guard.

“What the hell wa-” Ivy cuts him off by shoving a forkful of the cheesecake into his open mouth. He groans in pleased delight, attempting to go in with his own fork for another bite, but she quickly slaps his hand away.

“Let me taste yours. Bite for a bite.” She pretends not to notice him sneaking another bite of her cheesecake while she tastes the chocolate tart in front of him. A hint of red chili lends a kick that perfectly rounds out the sweetness of the chocolate and the fresh whipped cream the dessert is topped in.

“I don’t know what bakery they used but we need to get them to do the cake for the wedding.” Jin declares as he practically inhales the chocolate tart. He signals the waiter to bring them two more for them to try while Ivy hums in agreement at his side. She makes a mental note to ask her mother who was hired to do the desserts tomorrow as she happily digs into the coconut cream cake being set in front of her.

Yeosang stares in awe at the payment he’s just received for the engagement party they’d done three days ago. His bakery has been faring better than most businesses do in their first year but the deposit currently pending with the bank is going to go a long way in making sure it stays that way. They had even sent two grand more than the $1,800 that the contract had stipulated. Yeosang had called immediately to make sure it wasn’t an accounting error because the last thing he wants is to be accused of stealing, but he’d been informed by the woman who had arranged the deal that her employers had been so satisfied with the food they wanted to “tip” him. Rich people are different.

He leaves his small office to clean up a little while it’s slow. He had let everyone else go early since there were no big orders to work on and Tuesdays are notorious dead zones. The bell above the door tinkles lightly as he cleans some wayward chocolate curls out of one of the display cases, cursing to himself because he’d told Seonghwa that he put too many but of course no one listens to him. Doesn’t matter that he signs those lazy bastards’ pay checks every week.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The young woman before him fidgets with the tie on her wrap dress inadvertently drawing Yesoang’s gaze to the womanly curves she possesses. The emerald green of the fabric highlights the warm undertones of her skin in a way that should definitely be illegal.

“My mother’s assistant told me that you did the desserts for my engagement party last night.” Yeosang curses mentally as he finally takes notice of the skating rink sitting on her left ring finger. He misses most of what she says next but tunes back in just in time to hear her ask if he’s available to do her wedding cake as well.

“What’s the date?” He questions, all business now that more money is on the table.

“September 9th. It’s going to be at the old vineyard across town.”

Yeosang nods in acknowledgment. He pencils her in and schedules a day in two weeks for her to come back with her fiancee to do a tasting and make final selections for the other desserts they’d like to have. Ivy is turning to leave when she catches sight of a full-sized version of the cheesecake she’d fallen in love with at the party.

“How much is that cheesecake?”

Yeosang follows her outstretched index finger to the hazelnut berry cheesecake that he’d come up with. It had taken him ages to perfect but hasn’t really taken off like he thought it would. Nevertheless, he makes sure to put one in the display case every day and he’s glad that he did.

“It’s $6 per slice. Did you want one?”

“How much for the whole thing?” Yeosang notices that she has yet to take her eyes off of the dessert.

“I’ll do $35 for you, beautiful.” For a second, he thinks that he may have overstepped his boundaries but she simply reaches into her bra to pull out a flashy, black card. The credit limit on that thing would probably pay off the loan on his storefront and then some.

He tries not to focus on how warm it is when she places it into his outstretched hand. He could’ve sworn that she intentionally let her fingers graze his own in a less than professional way. Yeosang shakes the thought away as that can only lead to trouble. He packs her cheesecake up while she signs the credit card receipt.

“Have a great day,” Yeosang pauses to look at the signature line of the receipt. “…Ivy.”

“Right back at you.” She winks at him playfully and sashays outside to her car. Yeosang’s eyes are trained on her until she’s seated in her seated in the black Audi he’s just now noticing was parked across the street.

Ivy calls Jin the second she steers her car back onto the road, waiting patiently for him to answer. She’s practically vibrating from the few minutes she’d spent with…fuck she’d forgotten to get his name but there is plenty of time for that. One thing she’s sure she’ll never forget is how hot he is. Ivy would’ve never guessed that she’d be attracted to someone with quite so many tattoos but on him they had looked like priceless works of art worthy of being placed in the Louvre.

“Hey, Vee, what’s up?”

“Two things. One, the bakery that did the desserts for the engagement party agreed to do the wedding.” Ivy curses at a slow driver that cuts her off at an intersection, losing her train of thought for a second.

“And the second thing?” Jin presses.

“Oh, I’m going to fuck the owner.” A thrill shoots through as she imagines those tattooed hands roaming every inch of her skin. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat as her body reacts to her impure thoughts.

“Absolutely love that for you. What’s his name?” Of course he asks her the one question that she doesn’t know the answer to. She rolls her eyes skyward as Jin starts talking shit when he realizes that she didn’t ask her new crush his name.

“I hate you.” She pouts as she turns onto her street. “We have a tasting scheduled for the 17th so I’ll ask him then. I’m almost home so I’ll text you later.”

“Smell ya later.” Oh what she’d give to flip him off right now.

The smile on her face when Ivy walks inside her parents’ house is genuine despite the fact that she’s spent all day doing wedding preparations which normally leaves her in a foul mood. Her high spirits don’t go unnoticed by her mother who is in the backyard pruning her orchids.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“The bakery that did the desserts for the engagement party agreed to do the wedding too. Also,” Ivy lifts the box holding God’s favorite cheesecake in the air. “he gave me a deal on the cheesecake that we liked.”

“Are you serious? He said that he was booked up the entire week of your wedding.” Ivy is a bit taken aback as he had specifically told her that he would be available, but she shrugs it off.

“Maybe he had a cancellation. Do want some cheesecake? This is your only offer because I fully plan to eat the whole thing right now.” Her mother tosses her pruning shears back into the box she keeps them in and follows Ivy into the kitchen where they make quick work of the heavenly dessert.

“Yeosang you fucking dumbass. How are we supposed to do a wedding and an anniversary party in the same damn day? Explain it to me.” Yeosang almost flinches when Yunho yells at him. He can’t think of a time the man has ever raised his voice before now and he’s known him since they were three. Not one to accept disrespect, Yeosang would normally react with anger of his own but even he has to admit that thinking with his dick has put them all in a bind. A socialite wedding and an anniversary party with a guest list longer than his body on the same day is going to take a miracle to pull off.

“Listen these rich people gave us two grand more than they were supposed to as a fucking tip. If they had asked me to get ass naked and let people eat pineapple rings off my dick I would’ve said yes.”

“She had big tits didn’t she?” Jongho typically stays out of their petty arguments but he knows bullshit when he hears it.

“Yes, but,” The room erupts into a cacophony of groans as they all simultaneously throw the closest object at hand Yeosang’s hand. Luckily for him he’s always been quick on his feet. “What’s done is done you fuckwads so get over it and start mixing. We still have orders to fill.”

All eight of them are covered in flour from their frantic baking when they hear the bell jingling up front. Hongjoong happens to be the only one able to immediately stop what he’s doing so he washes his hands and goes to attend to the customer. Yeosang nearly falls backwards off of his stool when he hears the voice of the woman that had put them in such a bind. Wooyoung and San exchange curious glances before they wipes their hands on the front of their aprons and head up front as well. Yeosang feels like his stomach is going to fall out of his ass as one by one they all abandon their posts.

“Satan, why are you doing this to me?”

There’s no reason for him to stay in the back like a coward so he follows suit, wiping his hands and going to the front counter as well. They’re all squished together behind the counter trying to get as close to her as possible. Yeosang shoulders his way between Jongho and Seonghwa and he finally understands why they all look like lovestruck school boys. He finds himself looking just as dopey as his friends when she turns that megawatt smile on him. She’s dressed a lot more casually today in a pair of jeans that had to have been painted on and a plain white baby tee. The little jewel glittering in her belly button looks like its winking at him and he has the overwhelming urge to flick it with his tongue.

“Another cheesecake?” He nods his head towards the box cradled in her hands. She looks sheepish at being caught out. Yeosang thinks it’s cute.

“In my defense, it’s tasty as hell.”

“Just make sure you tell everyone where you got it.” He winks at her playfully which was an incredibly bad idea. She sinks her teeth into her plump lower lip and he knows immediately that despite the massive rock on her finger he would still make a move on her. Time to leave before he does something stupid.

“Alright you lazy sacks of shit, back to work.” They protest just as he’d expected but he pushes them all back towards the kitchen, rolling his eyes as they try to resist him.

“Hey, wait!” Yeosang shouldn’t have turned around. He should’ve kept going as if he hadn’t even heard her, but no, he just has to have manners. She’s propped herself up against the counter that makes her breasts nearly pop out of the scoop neck line of her shirt. “What’s your name?”

“Yeosang.” She repeats it back to him, testing it out on her tongue. Her voice curls around the syllables lusciously and he could die right where he stood. At this point, he’s convinced that she’s made it her life’s mission to ruin him.

Ivy is quick to call Jin when she gets back to her car which seems to be the norm every time she goes to the bakery. She knows that he’s going to make fun of her for being so excited, but she can’t exactly tell her other friends about the hot, tattooed bakery owner that she plans to screw so she’ll suffer the consequences. At least now she actually knows his name so he can’t hold that over her head anymore.

The 17th has finally rolled around which means Ivy has another opportunity to draw Yeosang into her trap. Jin currently sits cross-legged on the bed in his guest room where Ivy had spent the previous night as she models her potential outfit for the day. The yellow slip dress has potential, but Jin isn’t totally impressed. He sends her back into the closet to try on one of her other options. She reappears in a fiery orange tank top tucked into a pair of lightly distressed white jeans.

“Your ass looks great in the jeans so that’s a definite yes, but I’m not really feeling this shirt.” Jin comments as Ivy does a slow turn in front of him. He crosses the room to his closet to help her go through the clothes she’d brought with her to see what her other options are. He eventually helps her settle on a simple black tank top that perfectly molds to the curves of a figure.

“Alright let’s go eat some cake and hopefully get your cakes smashed.” Jin remarks as he herds Ivy towards the door.

When they arrive at the bakery, Yeosang has just finished putting out the tasting plates that he’d prepared. Jin is too focused on the fact that he gets to eat cake before lunch without anyone scolding him for it to notice the way that Yeosang’s face falls when he sees him walking in with Ivy. She doesn’t miss it though. Nevertheless, he reaches out to introduce himself.

“Yeosang. Nice to meet you.” Jin reciprocates his greeting before pulling out a chair for Ivy to sit down in.

Things are all business from there on as Yeosang slides the first cake towards them and Ivy has never been more disappointed in her entire life. Gone is the Yeosang that called her beautiful and responded well to her flirting. She blames Jin.

“So this first one is a spiced vanilla cake with a raspberry cream cheese frosting with a little orange zest.” Ivy is so focused on the way Yeosang’s lips are moving that Jin has to elbow her to bring her back to reality. She sheepishly accepts the fork that she hadn’t realized was being presented to her to taste the masterpiece in front of her.

As they talk about what they like and don’t like about the cake, Yeosang hands them each a scoring cards to rank their favorites. Regardless of the way she feels about him on a personal level, Ivy has to admit that Yeosang is incredibly good at what he does. He was able to take her obsession with his cheesecake and come up with such interesting cake options. She’d been slightly concerned that he hand’t asked for her likes or dislikes in terms of taste, but as they move from cake to cake she realizes that he didn’t need to. Everything tastes amazing. It’s no surprise that each cake receives the highest score possible on their scoring cards. Deciding which one to go with is going to be hell.

“If you don’t let me have the spiced vanilla one we tried first I am calling off this engagement and marrying Yeosang instead of you.” Ivy stands corrected. Yeosang chuckles lowly at Jin’s enthusiasm and the throaty sound sends a shiver down her spine. It’s unfair just how effortlessly attractive he is.

“Okay folks, let’s talk decorations.” Yeosang reaches to his right, pulling a sketch pad from the empty chair next to him. His hand loosely grips a pencil as he waits for Ivy and Jin to throw some ideas at him. Ivy would prefer to throw herself at him instead, but someone how she manages to focus her brain on cake design.

Both Ivy and Jin agree on the fact that they want something simple, but beyond that they have clue what they want. Yeosang busts out a quick sketch of a three tier cake with fondant branches bearing dogwood flowers climbing the height of it. When he presents the rough drawing to them, Ivy immediately falls in love. Thankfully, Jin agrees because she was prepared to fight him over this. They spend a little while longer picking out other desserts for people who don’t want or can’t have cake, but all too soon Yeosang is watching the happy couple disappear from his shop.

The six months until the wedding seem to blend together. Business has picked up significantly in the previous weeks which has been good for Yeosang in more ways than one. The extra cashflow has allowed him to get ahead on some bills while also giving everybody a bit of a raise. According to Seonghwa, who is primarily in charge of the front counter since accidentally slicing his hand open, a lot of the new customers have been big names in the community that are connected to Ivy or her family in one way or another. The woman in question often stops in for a cheesecake. She always asks to speak to Yeosang, claiming to have questions about the wedding though he gets the feeling that she really just wants to talk to him. Every day it gets harder and harder to resist her flirtatious advances. He refuses to be a casual fling for some bored rich girl no matter how much his dick begs him to. Especially one with rapidly approaching nuptials.

Yeosang has never been a very spiritual person, but when he gets the call that the anniversary party he’d scheduled Ivy’s wedding over had been cancelled due to the wife having the flu, he knows that some divine being is looking out for him. He had planned to do his best, but with only one more week left to prepare he was still very unsure of how he was going to pull off two events of that scale in one day. The husband Johnathan Tooney, current district attorney in the next county over, sounds shocked on the phone when he offers them a full refund despite the fact that his contracts states that customers are only entitled to a fifty percent refund of any money paid if the event is cancelled the week of. Most of his customers pay half upfront and the remaining half afterwards, but they had chosen to pay for everything up front. Something Yeosang had greatly appreciated as it was a $2,600 job. Ultimately, Mr. Tooney tells him not to as they intend to reschedule the party as soon as his wife is feeling better and would still like for him to provide the desserts they’d contracted for.

The guys are all equally relieved when Yeosang delivers the news of the anniversary party’s cancellation. Things are smooth sailing from there as they throw all of their focus and energy into making sure that everything will be ready for the wedding next weekend. Not surprisingly, Ivy doesn’t make an appearance in the bakery that week, but what is surprising is that Yeosang finds himself actually missing her presence. Despite his avoidance of all her flirting, he actually likes talking to Ivy whenever she comes in. She may be a bored rich girl but her mind is just as captivating as the rest of her.

On the day of the ceremony, Yeosang is uncharacteristically antsy. He’s not sure what it is but he can’t seem to sit still no matter what he does. He’s itching to get this day over with so Mingi can buy him the beer he owes him. Wooyoung scolds him for being distracted when he almost drops one of the cake tiers on his way to load it into one of the delivery vans. No one has to vocalize just how disastrous that would’ve been because they all know but missing an opportunity to call people out on their shit is just not in Wooyoung’s nature.

“Look, I know you’re feeling some type of way because your crush is marrying a pretty boy that’s not you but I’m going to need you to at least pretend that you still want to get paid for this job.” Yeosang nods in acknowledgment because while he doesn’t like being yelled at like a child even he knows that he’s got to get his shit together and quickly.

“Notice how he didn’t deny his crush on cheesecake girl though.” San pipes up as he hops into the drivers seat of the van. Everyone snickers, switching to full on laughter when Yeosang flips them all off.

Thankfully, the reception goes off without a hitch. The wait staff helps set up the extensive dessert table to save on time and it comes out just as Yeosang had envisioned it. He snaps a few pictures for the bakery’s website before they leave venue. Ivy and Jin had extended invitations to Yeosang and his staff to stay for the reception, but they’d all politely declined. They’re on their way out of the service entrance when one of the girls on the wait staff runs out with two giant paper bags in her hands. Apparently, Ivy had included enough meals in her catering package to feed the vendors that would be in the building on her big day which coincidentally included Yeosang and his gang of merry bakers. They’re all taken aback by the thoughtfulness of the gesture as Yeosang accepts the bags from the staff member who quickly runs back inside the dining hall.

“Cheesecake girl is a fucking saint.” Mingi hardly ever garners emphatic agreement from the rest of his friend group but today is one of those rare occasions.

Business continues as normal following the wedding. Product is flying out of the display case. Catering orders are still coming in left and right. Ivy still stops in once a week for a cheesecake and to flirt with Yeosang. The guys still tease him for his crush on said married woman. Everything is normal.

Until it’s not.

Jin looks like freshly printed money when he strolls into Bad Boy Bakery for the first time since the cake tasting all those months ago. The silver band on his ring finger glitters even in the fluorescent lighting. Yeosang is finishing up his closing routine when he hears the bell and emerges from his office.

“Seokjin?” The manila folder clasped in the other man’s hands makes Yeosang nervous. The last time someone in a suit approached him with a manila folder he was being presented with a plea deal and ended up doing ten months in jail for assault and grand larceny.

“We need to talk. I’ll wait for you to finish up.” Jin takes a seat at an empty table and hums to himself as he waits for Yeosang to join him.

He doesn’t have to wait long for the young business owner to emerge from his office with his keys and a denim jacket in hand. The mischievous smile on Jin’s face makes him uneasy, but he’s no bitch. Yeosang steels his nerves and schools his facial expression into one of bland indifference. He arches an eyebrow when Jin slides the folder across the table and produces a pen from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. The folder may as well be a poisonous spider with the way Yeosang refuses to touch it.

“Whatever you think it is, I promise it’s not that.” Yeosang stares Jin down for a few seconds, looking for anything at all that would suggest he should end this whole interaction right now. He doesn’t find it.

With a resigned sigh, Yeosang flips through the contents of an envelope. He shoots Jin a look when he realizes that he’s currently skimming over a nondisclosure agreement. It looks to be focused around Ivy and Jin’s marriage. The word arranged jumps out him a few times and his eyes nearly bug out of his head. The agreement is vague on the finer details but Yeosang is comfortable enough with what he’s read to quickly scrawl his name at the bottom of the last page. Jin signs his name as witness and neatly tucks everything back into the manila folder.

“Now that we have that out of the way.” Jin relaxes back into the chair and fiddles with his wedding band. “Ivy likes you. She’ll never admit that because she’s stubborn but she likes you and wants you fold her like a towel.”

“Wait, wait, wait, are you saying that your wife wants to have sex with me? How are you okay with this?” Yeosang has always loved forbidden fruit but ruining relationships was the old him. He doesn’t know what to do with this information. Furthermore, he can’t imagine being married to someone like Ivy and being okay with her sleeping with someone else.

“That’s where the NDA comes in.” Yeosang sits in stunned silence as Jin gives him the true behind the scenes story about he and Ivy’s marriage and it’s nothing like the best friends to lovers trope that they’ve fed to society. Well, he guesses the best friend part is true, but they’ve definitely never been anything close to lovers and never will be. They’re simply holding up their end of a decades-old business deal. According to Jin, he and Ivy have already devised a plan to be divorced in a year.

“So,” Yeosang is a bit unsure on how to proceed. This is uncharted territory. “what exactly are you saying to me?”

“Stop feeling bad about wanting to fuck Ivy and just do it. She’s driving me insane at home talking about how hot you are all the time and I can’t take it anymore. She’s out of cheesecake so she’ll be in here within the next couple of days so make your move. Discreetly.”

Yeosang lays in bed that night still shocked at everything he’s learned today. His mind and body have been at war over what he believes to be right and what his body craves. He’d love nothing more than to worship Ivy from head to toe and before today it had been a pipe dream. Now that he’s been given the green light, he’s still conflicted. It feels too good to be true. But he plans to take full advantage of all the good that comes his way until shit decides to hit the fan.

Ivy gives herself a final once over in the mirror. Her outfit is simple. Just a black bodycon dress paired with a denim jacket and her red converse. According to Jin, she should look like she’s making an effort but not too much of one. She’s hoping that this will do the trick as she grabs for her keys and purse, stuffing her phone into the latter as she waits for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

She wants to call Jin for some last minute encouragement on the way over, but he’s being a boring businessman today and is in the middle of a meeting. Ivy is totally on her own and she’s panicking. Hopefully, Yeosang finds her nervousness cute enough to overlook the awkwardness.

When Ivy enters the bakery, one of Yeosang’s friends is manning the counter. A gentle giant with a kind smile. She remembers that his name also starts with a Y like Yeosang’s but she can’t put her finger on exactly what it is.

“Hey, cheesecake girl!” Ivy rolls her eyes humorously at the nickname the other guys in the bakery have given her. She can’t help that the damned cheesecake tastes as good as it does. Before the wedding, she’d had to up her trips to the gym from zero to one just to make sure she’d still be able to fit into her dress on her wedding day.

Her heart drops a little when she scans the display case but sees no sign of the dessert that her soul craves. Yunho laughs are disappointment before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a box, smiling at the way her eyes light up.

“Yeosang is with the other guys on a job, but he said you’d be in today so he boxed it up before he left.” He slides the box across the glass countertop into her waiting hands. Ivy digs in her purse for her card to pay for the cheesecake, but Yunho is quick to stop her.

“This one’s on the house. Boss’ orders.” Ivy is a bit taken aback. Hand frozen in her purse. Yeosang makes sure that she always pays a discount rate for her cheesecake, but she’s never gotten one for free before.

“Oh…okay. Well, have a good day.”

It isn’t until she gets back to Jin’s place — well she guesses it’s her place now too — that she realizes why Yeosang had decided to pre-package her cheesecake this time. A phone number is scrawled on the inside of the lid with a quick message from Yeosang asking her to call him. She squeals as frantically scrambles to pull her phone from the recesses of her bag. Yunho had told her that Yeosang was out on a job so she texts him instead of calling so as not to disturb him.

She is happily digging her fork into a second piece of cheesecake when Ivy randomly recalls something weird that Jin had said this morning when he left for work. She was still half asleep and barely human, but now here she sits at the dining room table replaying the strange sentence that her brain had decided to finally comprehend.

Don’t forget to call the baker.

Ivy hadn’t been in the right headspace to question it then, but now that the puzzle pieces are clicking into place, it’s becoming painfully obvious that Jin had something to do with the reason she’s anxiously checking her phone every five minutes. The part of her that wants to chase him with a butter sock is overridden by the much larger part that wants to thank him profusely for whatever it is that he did. Unlike Jin, Ivy doesn’t have a harem of men, women, and others lined up to satisfy her needs whenever he’s feeling inclined.

She’s three episodes into a Cold Justice marathon when her phone rings, scaring the living daylights out of her. It’s Yeosang. Ivy’s eyes widen comically as she freaks out over what to do. She chugs the rum and coke she’d been nursing and picks up the call.

“Hello?” She cringes at how apprehensive she sounds even to her own ears.

“Hello, Ivy.” He sounds tired which has given his voice a gravelly edge to it that’s making her blood sing. “I saw your message and thought it would just be easier to call you.”

Ivy isn’t surprised in the slightest when Yeosang tells her about Jin’s visit to the bakery the night before. That’s a typical Jin move to jump the chain of command to accomplish a job. Yeosang doesn’t seem to bothered by the strangeness of it all. He seems more relieved that his guilt for lusting after a taken woman has been absolved if anything.

“This is a first for me so I’m not exactly sure what to do.” Yeosang trails off. He’s out of his element here. It goes without saying that there will be no romantic dinners at expensive restaurants or long walks to the beach.

“This is a first for me too, but you’re a hot baker that laughs at my stupid jokes and I like that.” His throaty laugh in response makes her chest swell with pride at

“I still want to take you on a date though so I guess your place or mine?”

Yeosang is sweating bullets as he punches in the elevator code for the penthouse suite in the swanky high rise at the address Ivy had given him. In his Michael Jackson t-shirt, ripped jeans, and sneakers, he knows that he sticks out like a sore thumb, but thankfully no one in the lobby had vocalized that to his face. He adjusts his duffel bag on his shoulder as the elevator smoothly ascends to the top floor. He’s been ecstatic when Ivy had told him that she wanted him to come spend the weekend with her since Jin would be out of town on business. This is going to be the first time that he’s seen her in person since they agreed to their little arrangement and he’s nervous to say the least.

The doors silently reveal a posh sitting area as well a lacquered black door adorned with a silver “P”. Yeosang grins at the door mat just outside the door. It depicts a crudely drawn cat with both middle fingers upturned and the words “fuck off” written in a speech bubble. It looks just as out of place as he does and for whatever reason it makes him feel more at ease. He reaches out to press the doorbell but the door is yanked open before he even gets the chance.

“Jesus Christ you scared me!” If his hands weren’t full of groceries, Yeosang would’ve clutched at his rapidly beating heart. Ivy chuckles, pointing to a little black dot above the door.

“We have cameras.”

She grabs for a few of the bags in his hands, but he twists and turns to block her efforts. Their childish antics continue until Yeosang has finally had enough. He crouches down until he’s able to wrap his arms around her thighs, delighting in her squeal when he successfully lifts her from the ground. Ivy swats at his shoulders, but the brute simply crosses the threshold, kicking the door shut with his foot before walking deeper into her home. This first “date” is off to a great start.

“So what’s on the agenda for today, Mr. Kang?” Ivy drums on the marble countertop enthusiastically as she watches Yeosang unpack the groceries he’d brought with him.

“As much as I love a good paying customer, It’s time for you to learn how to make this cheesecake yourself.”

“You better hope I suck at it or I’ll put you out of business.”

“I don’t mind a little competition.” Yeosang smiles deviously. “Especially when the rivals look as pretty as you.”

Ivy feels her cheeks heat up in the face of such flirtation and she’s never been more thankful for the fact that her darker complexion hides the evidence of it. She’s come to know him well enough to know that he would definitely rib her for that.

As it turns out, Ivy is a natural born baker. Yeosang’s heart swells in his chest as he watches her sway her hips to the music she’d turned on as she stirs the berry compote on the stove. His chest bumps against her back as he steps up behind her and he swears he sees her shiver. He rests his head on her shoulder, covering his hand with hers and slows down the speed of her stirring.

“You have to be gentle with the berries, love.” At the sound of his voice so close to her ear, Ivy’s insides turn to goo.

“Maybe I don’t want to be gentle.” Her words hit him square in the chest and he wants to respond in so many ways, but he settles for a chaste kiss on her temple. He’d briefly contemplated taking it slow with her, but they’ve been dancing around each other for nearly seven months at this point and there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. The wanton desire is mutual on both sides but he wants to hear her beg. Wants her desperate and needy for him.

He eventually removes his hand from hers, choosing to instead hold onto her hips as he continues to coach her through the next steps. She’s so focused on keeping her berries from sticking that Yeosang is able to catch her off guard when he slips his hands inside her tank top to rest them against her bare skin. The gasp she lets out makes him smile deviously. His hands drift up from her lower stomach until his thumbs are brushing the lacy cups of her bra. It’s Yeosang’s turn to be caught off guard when she presses her ass firmly against his front. The way she subsequently swivels her hips is nearly his undoing, but Yeosang has a game plan and he intends to see it through.

“You’re a naughty girl, Ivy.” He lowers a hand to tug on the elastic waistband of the tiny shorts she’s wearing, letting it snap back in place. She hisses at the sting but, if the way her head lolls back onto his shoulder is any indication, she loved it. Yeosang slides his hand lower as if he’s going to cup her over her shorts only to completely remove himself from her.

He busies himself with other things around the kitchen but he can feel her glare on him the entire time. She grumbles something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like the words “teasing asshole” but he choose to ignore it. For now.

Ivy is visibly on edge as she waits for Yeosang to touch her again, but he doesn’t make a single move to do so. He simply dances around her in the kitchen as they finish up their cheesecake preparation. It has to cool once they take it out of the oven so they migrate to the living room while they wait. The episode of Bones that Ivy been watching before he’d arrived is still paused on the tv so she restarts it and settles in next to Yeosang on the couch. She lets out a girlish squeal when he hauls her into his lap instead. He spreads her legs so that they straddle both of his, letting out a content sigh as he rests his chin on her shoulder. Arms wrapped securely around her waist.

He waits until she’s engrossed in the episode. Certain that he’s going to keep his hands to himself. If he’d been able to see her face, he would’ve been able to see the devious grin as she devised a plan of her own. Ivy shifts her legs around until both of her feet are planted on the floor between Yeosang’s. She swivels her hips in the cradle of his lap, snickering at the groan he lets out. Two can play this teasing game. She grabs both of his hands in her own and lifts them to her breasts. Yeosang just lets them linger there. This is her show now and he wants to see her directing skills firsthand.

With her physical encouragement, he pinches her erect nipples through the thin layers of her shirt and bra. The breathy sigh in response to his touch gives him a high that he can quickly see himself becoming addicted to. She ups the ante by dislodging his hands to remove her shirt and bra. She places his hands back on her chest, sighing once more at the feel of him kneading her breasts without any hindrances. Yeosang licks and sucks at the column of her neck. He’s careful not to leave any marks which he’s sure she’ll be appreciative of later. Her needs grows and grows until she’s craving more than what he’s giving her.

“Yeosang,” The way she half moans his name sounds like the sweetest melody. “Touch me.”

“I am touching you, baby girl.” She grunts in frustration. Looks like she’ll have to take matters into her own hands once more.

Yeosang is shocked when Ivy suddenly rises to her feet. He’s more than confused as he watches her disappear down a hallway off to the right of the living room. His breath catches in his throat when her shorts suddenly fly back into view followed closely by a pair of panties that match the bra on the floor by his right foot. He nearly falls over in his haste to catch up to her. He finds her in the bedroom that she’d pointed out as hers when she’d given him a quick tour earlier. She’s reclined amongst the mountain of pillows circling her swollen clit with her middle finger as she fondles one of her breasts. Her mouth is slightly ajar from the pleasure and he swears that he’s never seen a sight more breathtaking. Yeosang swallows, trying to get his wits about him when she speaks and breaks him out of his daze.

“Clothes off, babe.” His limbs are a blur as he rushes to follow her instructions. With every inch of skin he reveals, Ivy finds herself falling deeper and deeper into his trap.

She’d seen the tattoos that covered his arms and the back of his right hand, but the Hebrew script running down his side is new to her and she makes a mental note to ask him what it says later. Right now she wants nothing more than for him to hold her down with his weight and make her his. Yeosang’s eyes are practically glued to her center so shiny from her arousal. He licks his lips at the thought of how good she probably tastes and the mere idea of having her on his tongue nearly consumes him.

Yeosang tugs on his hardened cock as he slowly walks towards the oversized bed. She’s mesmerized by the appendage standing proud between his legs. It’s not over long but he can barely get his own fist around it so she knows that the stretch will be phenomenal when he finally gets inside. He grabs her by both ankles and pulls her into the center of the bed so that she’s flat on her back. She squirms in anticipation as he crawls over her. Lips and hands caressing every inch of her skin that they can reach. She moans deep in her throat when he finally covers her lips with his own in their first ever kiss. Her fingers find purchase in his hair, holding him to her as they ravage each other. Each exhale from her lips traded for his.

Ivy is brought back to the task at hand when a needy thrust of Yeosang’s hips has the engorged head of his erection pressing against her clit. She bites down on his bottom lip at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, rolling her hips up to get more of the addictive friction.

“Gotta taste you. Want you to cum in my mouth.” Yeosang’s words don’t match up with his actions as he continues to peck her lips over and over again. Eager to discover if his tongue is just as talented as his hands, Ivy pulls away to gently push at his head until he gets the message.

The first swipe of his tongue on her soaked flesh is purely self-indulgent. He’s thrilled to discover that she tastes just as sweet as he thought she would. Like the nectar of a fresh honeydew. He sucks her clit into his mouth, biting down on it gently before swirling his tongue around it to soothe the ache. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and she can’t decide if she wants to run from or towards his mouth. She doesn’t get the chance to decide as Yeosang anchors her squirming hips to the bed with one of his arms.

He teases her entrance with a single finger, smirking at the filthy curses falling from her lips as she begs him to make her cum. He gives her clit a particularly harsh suck as he sinks his finger in deep. Her breathing starts coming in quick pants when he adds a second finger and then a third. When she starts folding in on herself, he pulls his fingers from her dripping hole. Her suddenly empty hole clenches around nothing as she complains about being denied the orgasm she was dancing on the edge of.

Her complaints die on her tongue when she takes in the sight of Yeosang walking on his knees towards her. Ivy sits up and meets him halfway. She can taste herself on his tongue as their lips meet for the second time and it has a fresh tidal wave of arousal all but gushing from her. His waning self-control is evident in the way he turns her around to face her headboard, pushing on her shoulders until she’s face down in in the sheets.

She whimpers at the heavy smack he rains down on her ass. He groans at the way it bounces before he grips both cheeks in his hands, pulling them apart to get a proper view of her waiting entrance. Part of him wants to tease her some more, but he doesn’t have it in him to wait one more minute. She nearly sobs at the satisfying stretch of him sinking into her eager flesh in one smooth thrust. He grinds his hips against her ass, relishing in the way her walls are hugging him so tightly. She clenches around him, trying to draw him back in as he eases his hips back only to roughly thrust his length back into her. He repeats that action a few more times to open her up before finally breaking loose.

All forms of speech beyond broken curse words and his name are lost to Ivy as Yeosang demolishes her. His pace builds till it’s almost frantic. It feels like his length is vibrating within her and she can feel her orgasm approaching quickly. She tries to warn him, but he is already well aware. He slows his hips down to a gentle roll and the change in pace has her seeing stars as he can now expertly target that sensitive spot deep within her. He reaches underneath her to rub circles in her clit and she’s lost. Black dots dance around across her vision as the pleasure threatens to completely drag her under. His hips never stop moving as he fucks her through it. The erratic clenching of her inner walls soon proves to be too much for him. He pulls out of her wet heat just in time to release his seed onto her back.

Ivy collapses onto her stomach. Exhausted beyond measure. Yeosang falls next to her breathing just as hard. He’s not going to lie and pretend that he hasn’t dived into more than his fair share of pussy, but that was easily the best sex he’s ever had. He can barely breathe but that doesn’t stop him from leaning over to press his lips against hers once more. Their chests are still heaving when they separate, choosing instead to lean his forehead against hers.

“I can’t feel my legs.” She whispers on a breathless laugh.

“Good thing I’m the king of aftercare.” He pecks her lips once more before crossing the room to her en suite bathroom to get a warm towel to clean her up with. By the time he returns, she’s fast asleep much to his surprise. Normally, Yeosang likes to end his trysts with a massage, but she’s sleeping so peacefully. He cleans up his mess before sliding back into the bed next to her as he pulls a spare blanket over them.

Yeosang awakens the next morning to an empty bed and the smell of coffee brewing. A shower is definitely in order before he seeks out Ms. Ivy. He walks into the kitchen a little while later to find her cooking breakfast in his t-shirt. It’s so domestic that for a moment he forgets that she’s legally spoken for until her wedding ring catches the sunlight from the picture windows.

“Morning.” He whispers into her ear. She jumps at the sound, obviously not realizing that he was awake yet. She relaxes against him when he wraps his arms around her midsection.

“Good morning, handsome. I’m almost done if you wanna grab some plates.” Yeosang preens at the compliment, kissing her cheek an obnoxious amount of times before grabbing plates and some silverware.

The sound of their forks clinking against their plates as they eat fills the pleasant silence as the two adults make faces across the table at each other like children. Yeosang can’t remember the last time he was this comfortable with a woman he was seeing. For the millionth time since he woke up this morning, he finds himself resenting the fact that she’s married.

“I can feel you staring.” Yeosang doesn’t bother looking up see Ivy’s facial expression at being caught as he rinses the last breakfast dish to put in the drying rack. “Spit it out before I get old and feeble.”

“What does the tattoo on your side say?” He looks up at her then, searching her face. Ivy is beginning to feel that she shouldn’t have said anything the longer Yeosang remains silent. He drys his hands on a towel, walking towards Ivy where she sits sprawled across one of the cushy armchairs in the living room. He lifts her only to set her back down in his lap.

“May you rescue us from the hand of every foe, ambush along the way, and from all manner of punishments that assemble to come to earth.” Yeosang absentmindedly strokes his fingers back and forth across Ivy’s bare thigh. “It’s part of a Hebrew prayer of protection that my mom made me get when she realized that her scolding was falling on deaf ears.”

Ivy can’t help but giggle as Yeosang enthusiastically re-enacts his mother’s words all those years ago. She’s seen the articles in the local magazines. They all tell the same story of a young street kid that found his calling and turned his life around, but words on a piece of paper doesn’t capture the nuance of who Kang Yeosang is. He doesn’t shy away from who he was. He embraces it with open arms. She listens intently as he tells the story that will never be found in any magazine. The story of how he successfully graduated from small-time dealing to running guns, drugs, and the occasional fine artifact when he was only twenty three.

“Would you do it differently if you had the chance?” Ivy picks at the hem of the Thriller he’d been wearing the day before as she awaits his answer. She’s admittedly shocked when he he gives an emphatic no.

“It wasn’t exactly something I could put on my resume, but it set this part of my life into motion.” She leans her head into the crook of his neck. Lulled into comfortable security by the vibration of his vocal cords. “I learned how to run a business. Granted, it was illegal, but I baked my first cake in jail which is what ultimately led to me opening the bakery and then meeting you.”

Time is a forgotten concept as they sit in the armchair sharing embarrassing childhood stories and fleeting kisses when they just can’t help themselves. That’s how Jin finds them. Giggling like teenagers that have finally earned closed door privileges. Yeosang freezes when he notices Jin’s still unsure how to act around him. Ivy on the other hand is excited to welcome her best friend back home.

“Jinnie!” She hops up to give him a quick hug and peck on the cheek before returning to her perch on Yeosang’s lap. Awkwardness is radiating off of the man beneath her in near tangible waves. He visibly relaxes when Ivy buries her fingers in the hair at the back of his head to scratch at his scalp.

“I missed you too, Vee. Good to see you again, Mr. Kang.” Jin winks conspiratorially at Yeosang as he cracks open the bottle of water he’d snagged from the refrigerator. “Take good care of my wife.” He adds as a parting shot on his way down the hall to his bedroom which sends Ivy into a fit of curses. Yeosang finds himself cracking a smile at the sound of Jin’s laughter somewhere down the hall.

It’s not the most conventional situation by any means, but Yeosang feels like he can make this work. He glances down at the grumbling woman in his arms. Yeah, he can definitely make this work.

Yeosang is elbow deep in bread dough for a new recipe he’s working on when he hears his phone ringing where he’d left it on the charger in his bedroom. He’s supposed to be heading to Ivy’s later tonight and he’s hoping to have her taste test his new bread when he gets there, meaning he can have no interruptions so he lets his phone go to voicemail. His phone rings again, but this time the song it plays catches his attention. The Alina Baraz song he’d set for Ivy’s ringtone drifts down the hallway. He instantly cracks a smile at the thought of the woman on the other end of that phone call. Passing up an opportunity to hear her voice is beyond Yeosang’s capabilities so he extracts himself from the dough, making a mad dash for the ringing device.

“Hey, babe.” She sniffles in his ear and all of his sense are suddenly on high alert. In all of the months since they started dating he can’t recall her crying. Ever. She’s just too happy. His mind runs through a myriad of horrible possibilities like film cuts. “Ivy, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I need you.” Yeosang has absolutely no idea what’s going on but his heart feels like it’s being ripped in two at the sound of her crying. He pulls his phone away from his ear when it pings. He has to swallow to keep himself together when he sees that Ivy has sent him her location.

“I’m on my way, baby. I’m coming.”

The other cars on the road look like blurs as Yeosang weaves between and around them at break neck speed. The hospital that Ivy is at is supposed to be a twenty seven minute drive according to google maps, but Yeosang is parking his mustang exactly sixteen minutes later. He’s honestly surprised that he wasn’t pulled over on the way, but his euphoric disbelief is short-lived as he dashes towards the front doors of the hospital.

“Can I help you?” The woman manning the front looks at Yeosang with a barely concealed air of distaste. He follows her eyes to his tattooed arms on display in the short sleeved shirt he’s wearing. He’s still pretty much covered in flour from his bread making and he can tell that she doesn’t think much of him. Normally, he would make an attempt to assuage people like her and show that tattoos don’t make the man, but he doesn’t have time for that.

“I’m looking for Ivy Kim.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not we have someone here by that name.”

“Listen, lady if you-” Yeosang is on the verge of falling into the trap of the old wench’s bias when he hears his name being called. He turns his head to see Jin waving him over from where he’s holding the elevator doors open. He flips the old lady off, delighting in her scandalized gasp as he jogs towards the bay of elevators.

Now that he’s closer, Yeosang notices the cuts and bruises that litter his friend’s face. He looks like he’s been beat pretty good, but he brushes off any questions about what happened. Yeosang is on the verge of choking on his nerves as he follows Jin off of the elevator to room 437.

“I’m going to get some coffee. You guys need to talk.” Jin claps Yeosang on the shoulder once as he goes back the way they came.

He’d risked life and limb to get here, but now he’s afraid to take one more step. He has no idea what’s going on, but he can feel it in his bones that nothing will be the same once he steps through this door. Yeosang’s phone vibrates just then with a notification from the Nike app about some stuff he left in his cart. The little nike swoosh on his phone screen feels like a divine sign for him to stop being such a pussy and go in the room.

Seeing Ivy curled into a ball in the middle of the hospital bed is nearly his undoing. The tears steadily streaming down her face catch the light from the hallway when she turns her head to see who it is. A sob racks her figure as she reaches for him. Yeosang shuts the door, plunging the room back into darkness as he rushes to her side. He’s not used to her looking this fragile and it’s killing him. He kicks his shoes off and climbs into the bed next to her, careful not to jostle the IV needle in her arm. She leans into his touch as he brushes her hair away from her face. The fabric of his shirt is no match for the barrage of tears that Ivy dumps on it. He lets her cry until she has nothing left. For a moment he thinks that she’s fallen asleep, but she whispers something against the skin of his neck. Her voice is so low that he can’t make it out even with her lips being mere inches from his hair.

“You’ve gotta speak up for me, love.” This time when she speaks, he hears her loud and clear.

“I lost our baby.”

He can hear her saying something about a car accident and blood, but her words don’t register in his brain. Yeosang feels like the ground has opened up beneath him, but he’s not falling. Simply hovering, drifting in the void. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant and that’s definitely something Ivy would have told him so he’s guessing that she didn’t know either. Visions of a tiny child with her doe-like eyes and his nose flash across his minds eye. Yeosang has never given much thought to being a father, but knowing that he’d created a child with Ivy only for them to be ripped away like this is tearing him apart. He holds her impossibly close, trying to anchor himself to reality. Tears are flowing down his own face as he attempts to process what they’ve lost.

“This is all my fault.” The guilt in her voice is nearly palpable. Yeosang cups her face in his hands to force her to look him in the eye.

“You did nothing wrong, Ivy. Get that thought out of you head right now, do you hear me?” Ivy nods her head slowly but Yeosang is not naive. No matter what he says, it’s going to take a while before she actually believes the truth in his words.

Jin hates to interrupt them. He loathes it, but life is cruel and Ivy’s parents just texted him that they just parked their car and are on their way inside. His feet feel heavy as he treks back down the hallway. He pokes his head into the dark room and winces at the muffled sound of them crying together.

“I’m so sorry guys, but Ivy’s parents are on their way up.” Yeosang gets the urge to laugh despite the fact that absolutely nothing is funny. This is just adding insult to injury.

Ivy clings to him like a koala when he tries to stand and he’s got half a mind to say fuck the consequences and stay. That wouldn’t be fair to Jin though. He harbors no ill will towards the man even though he’s living the life he wants so for his sake, he extricates himself from Ivy’s grasp to put his shoes on. Her bottom lip quivers dangerously as he leans down to softly kiss her forehead. Jin pulls Yeosang into a hug before he can walk past him and it takes a herculean effort for Yeosang to keep it together. His heart aches with every step he takes towards the exit stairs. It feels like someone is taking a jackhammer to his chest.

He leans his head back against the headrest when he finally reaches his car. A pained yell bursts from his throat before he can even think of trying to stop it. His horn beeps erratically as he pounds at his steering wheel in anger. Yeosang has been through hell in his twenty six years on Earth and yet, he can’t recall a time when he’s ever felt this much mental anguish and despair. Part of him wishes that he’d never stopped slinging coke and running the streets because he’d have never met Ivy and thus would’ve never experienced this. He hates that thought the second it materializes.

The shrill ringing of an old school phone that Yunho had insisted on having as his ringtone breaks through his misery. Yeosang has no desire to utter a word to anyone other than Ivy but Yunho is a persistent bastard. He’ll just keep calling until he gets an answer. He clears his throat and hopes that his childhood best friend is having an off day with those damn spidey senses of is.

“Hello?”

“Dude, have you been crying? No wonder my spirit is unsettled. The fuck is going on?” So much for eluding Yunho’s questions. Yeosang huffs out a shaky breath. He’s not even sure he’s even fully grasped what’s going on himself. He can hear the sound of keys jingling on Yunho’s end.

“Listen, I’m gonna go buy an obnoxious amount of alcohol and then I’m coming over to you place. See you in twenty.” Yunho doesn’t wait for a response, hanging up the phone with a sense of finality.

True to his word, Yunho’s car is parked in front of his building when Yeosang makes it home. His car is empty, so he’s guessing that he must have used his key and gone inside already. He’s not surprised to find Yunho nursing a beer on his couch as he scrolls through something on his phone. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in Yeosang’s haggard appearance. He knows he looks like shit so Yunho’s reaction isn’t unexpected.

It’s nearly three in the morning when they finally crash. Yunho is passed out in the guest room but sleep evades him despite the multiple beers swirling through his system. If he was sober, he probably wouldn’t make this decision, but he’s far from it so he reaches for his phone to FaceTime Ivy. The second her face replaces his on the screen, Yeosang immediately feels like he can breathe again. He’d been avoiding the feeling before now, but after everything that’s happened in the last twenty four hours? He’s tired of beating around the bush.

“I love you, Ivy.” The smile that spreads across her tired face brings Yeosang so much joy. There’s no telling how long it’s been since she’s graced the world with one of her radiant smiles. He takes it as a victory that he was the one to bring that out of her.

“I love you too, Yeosang.”

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vee-angel · 4 years

Text

First Day of School (Part of the Sodom Virus Chronicles), part 2

Second Subject: Gym Class

Ricki had tried to meditate for the first time in an attempt to calm her nerves. She didn’t exactly know how it was done, but she knew that the likelihood of some magical deus ex machina swooping in to rescue her was close to nil. She was going to have to learn to live in this world whether she liked it or not. Besides, it’s not as if the other girls seemed like they were particularly unhappy.

She stayed away from the window, but some of the girls crawled out to meet with other girls or boys. Best she could tell, aggressively kissing one another is how girls greeted each other. While they addressed males by sort of facing them with downcast eyes for an expectant moment. Sometimes the men engaged them in conversation, some groped them, while others snapped their fingers to command the girl onto her knees or into other positions. It seemed that there were some universally understood hand-gestures that directed girls into one position or the other. Ricki tried to appreciate the opportunity to be a part of this new culture, but she couldn’t fully dismiss her anxieties as she watched Sharaje being anally hate-fucked by two guys in a row. They both used her mouth afterward.

After a few minutes, there was a tone that seemed to signal that they should make their way to the next class. Ricki had managed to make it all the way to second period with her virginity intact, but she had a feeling she may not make it to the end of the day.

Sharaje quickly retrieved a mirror and some wet-wipes from her bag to clean her anus; she angled the mirror to check that her rear-entrance was picture perfect before fixing her hair and lipstick with expert speed. She then bounded happily up to Ricki and took her hand, “Sorry for making you wait, stupid. My asshole is a really popular place for men to cum.”

The pair of them walked hand-in-hand down the hall, “Do you know where we’re going, or are you too much of a retarded fuckhole?” Sharaje asked.

Ricki wasn’t sure where they were going, she hadn’t been given much information, other than where her first class was; she was led to believe that Sharaje would get her up to speed from there. “Umm, no, the man in the front office didn’t tell me much.”

Sharaje stopped short and her expression went stern. She gave Ricki a firm, corrective slap in the face. “Ricki! I know you’re new to the outside world, but it’s never okay to blame your failures on a man! I’ve been assigned to take care of you, and if you get declared a feminist within a certain period of time, I’m going to be punished. So let’s try this again, why don’t you know what class is next?”

“Because I’m a retarded fuckhole.” Ricki spoke with the tone of a girl broken.

“Again.” Sharaje demanded.

“I’m a retarded fuckhole.” She repeated in a lackluster tone.

“Don’t act like you’re being forced, shit-lips.”

That particular insult made Ricki cringe. She knew it was a reference to her dark labia that had been mercilessly mocked by the class a few minutes before. She decided to use the hurt to speak decisively, “I’m a retarded fuckhole!” She spoke loud enough that a few other students passing by in the hall snickered at her.

“That’s a good cunt.” Sharaje said as she rubbed the side of her head as if petting an animal, which Ricki supposed was the best way women could be regarded here. Her mind latched onto something her “friend” had said. If she failed to assimilate and got sent to one of the feminist “repositories,” Sharaje would get punished? Was she only being mean to try to get Ricki accustomed to this society as quickly as possible? Because something really bad might happen to her if she failed?

Maybe the two of them really could be friends. Maybe Ricki was actually lucky in a way. After all, it seemed like Sharaje was thriving in this world, maybe she could learn how to thrive, too.

The two girls continued walking together to someplace that Sharaje either forgot to or intentionally neglected to tell her. She noticed that all of the female students and many of the male students seemed to be heading in the same direction. Eventually, they made their way out through the large double doors that opened upon what appeared to be a large athletics field. Just beyond that was a waist-high fence and then a busy street. It seemed like every girl in the school was out here.

She got lost briefly trying to figure out what was going on when Sharaje gave her a firm, yet somehow friendly slap between the legs. “Over here.” She pointed to several rows of square lockers. Ricki followed as she made her way to a particular one. “We can share mine until you get your own.” As she spoke, she hooked her fingers under the bottom of her shirt and flipped it off in one swift motion. She opened the locker, folded the garment neatly, and placed it inside.

Ricki was stunned. She knew by now that she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help it. This wasn’t a locker room or a changing room. It wasn’t a room at all! It was just rows of lockers on an exterior wall. She could see lines of cars going past just a few dozen feet away. Along with pedestrians of various ages. Some of whom stopped to watch as a few hundred teen girls all stripped publicly naked in unison.

She knew that resistance was hopeless. At least this time, she wouldn’t be the only one exposed. She began to undress and placed her shirt and bra timidly in the locker next to Sharaje’s things. Sharaje, meanwhile, had produced a small bottle of solvent from her bag and was painting it onto her butt to dissolve the glue that ensured the spreader-jeans kept her holes perpetually exposed. It was an irony that taking her pants off would actually allow more modesty in her case.

The two girls had just finished undressing when Ricki noticed a girl emerge from the double doors. She had apparently taken her time on account of the fact that she was already naked as the day she was born. She also looked strong… really strong. She had this vibe like a bad-ass lady superhero from old comic books. Except a more teen-aged version.

Her and Sharaje exchanged a grin that wasn’t entirely friendly and the new girl walked over. Sharaje spoke first, “Hey Loose Caboose, ready to tongue kiss the tightest asshole in the school?” She turned her hips to spread her ass in the muscular girl’s general direction.

“Well, I would kiss the tightest one in the school, but I’m not flexible enough to reach my own yet.” The tone suggested a friendly rivalry, but in Ricki’s mind, she had to process for a moment. Their rivalry was about who had the tighter anus?? She had a brief sinking feeling; is that what all the girls were going to be doing today? Testing how tight their buttholes were???

She’d tried to hold her tongue for fear of saying something wrong, but she had to ask this time. “Umm, excuse me, cunt?” she tried to speak to other women disrespectfully, but it still felt awkward, and she was certain it sounded as such, too. “What are you talking about? What’s happening today?”

Both girls stared at her, but thankfully Sharaje didn’t let the silence linger too long. “Oh, this is Dephile. She’s a rapist!”

“I’m not just a rapist. I’m the best rapist in the state.” Dephile declared proudly.

“Only for high school.” Sharaje shot back derisively.

“Choke on a dick, you fat slunt, I have scouts for college rape teams all over me.”

Ricki was confused. “Wait, what do you mean she’s a rapist?” The question was addressed at Sharaje.

“Wow, your stupid cult didn’t even let you watch tv?? Rape has become pretty much the biggest sport over the last, like, ten or fifteen years. Two sluts get into a ring and try to win points by penetrating each other’s holes. There’s like a different number of points for-”

Sharaje was interrupted when Dephile slammed her forcefully against the lockers and leveraged her arm against her back. “Maybe you should let an athlete explain it, soft-bodied whore.”

Dephile’s body was extraordinary, watching her exert herself to hold a struggling Sharaje in place allowed Ricki to see the smooth, defined muscles writhe beneath her skin. She continued her explanation. “A rapist wins point by violating the holes of her opponent. That can be done through penetration, like the stupid skank here said,” Dephile then demonstrated by jamming two fingers dry up Sharaje’s asshole. It was clear that she was clenching hard to resist, her body thrashed but Dephile’s strong grip kept her pinned against the lockers, the powerful fingers dry-forcing their way inside. “Or she can win points by defilement, like so.”

Dephile performed a maneuver so quickly that Ricki wouldn’t even begin to be able to describe it, but it ended with Sharaje bent back on her knees and her face clamped between Dephile’s legs. Her mouth was pressed firmly against the strong woman’s cunt as she began to piss, with impressive accuracy, straight up Sharaje’s nostrils. She began to choke and cough, but Dephile was using her smooth cunt to gag her, ensuring that there was no way to get air without sucking urine through her nose.

When she’d finally emptied her bladder onto Sharaje’s face, ensuring that a decent amount ended up in her lungs, she finally released her face from the death-grip of her thighs. She went to stand up, but Dephile apparently wasn’t done with her, yet. After a sweep of the legs, Sharaje was face down with Dephile kneeling on the small of her back. “Of course, double points are awarded any time a rapist can force a self-violation.” She demonstrated this by gripping Sharaje’s hand tightly and wrenching her arm back so that she could sodomize the girl with her own fingers.”

Finally, she released the thrashing Sharaje and took a step backward to allow her room to stand. “I have a match after school today. You cunts should come cheer for me!”

Sharaje stood and wiped the piss and snot and tears from her flawless arabian features. “Gee, thanks for explaining, Dephile.” Her words oozed with sarcasm, “Say ‘thank you,’ Ricki.”

“Umm, thank you!” Ricki said, seeming almost surprised by her own words.

It was about this time that all three girls noticed that nearly everyone else in the class had lined up near the fence of the school. By this point, Ricki was able to deduce that the purpose was to place the girls as close to the public as possible to maximize their humiliation.

A group of middle-school aged boys leaned on the fence casually a few feet away and just admired the wall of naked teen girl-flesh as they chatted amongst themselves.

There were a few women who looked old enough to be teachers standing in front of the line facing the girls. But it seemed that most of the instructors were simply athletic students. Dephile had a group a bit farther down. Once all the girls were in position, the naked girls acting as instructors prompted them all to go through a course of basic calisthenics.

Ricki was sweating and out of breath after the first few exercises. She looked around to see that she was seemingly the only one. While not all the other students had particularly athletic-looking physiques, they were apparently all unquestionably in-shape. The exercises continued. The line of naked sluts extended, flexed, bent, and twisted in enough different directions to ensure that every muscle in their bodies was lithe and supple. The others made it look easy, but Ricki was actually getting light-headed by the time they were told to go for a jog around the perimeter of the school.

Ricki was the last one of the group to make it back to her position, having spent the last ten minutes staring out over a sea of slick, jiggling asses moving progressively farther from her. It took all her strength not to collapse on the spot. She was dripping with sweat and wheezing. Sharaje and the others, she noticed, had nearly caught their breath by the time she returned, and their skin had a healthy glow of faint perspiration. Ricki thought she must be more out of shape than she realized, and hoped that there would be a break soon.

Thankfully, the next segment of class seemed to center around stretching. It was a chance to get her heart-rate under control. Although her profound lack of proficiency soon became apparent. Ricki never thought of herself as stiff, but these other girls had a level of limberness that seemed more appropriate to dancers or gymnasts. While Ricki could touch her toes, most of the other students had their large fleshy tits bulging out as they pressed their chests against their knees. When they were instructed to lay on their backs for a groin stretch, Ricki seemed to be the only girl she could see not doing a full split. Sharaje actually had her feet pressed to the ground roughly in line with her shoulders, legs spread well past a hundred-eighty degrees.

Ricki had caught her breath, but the lightheadedness still hadn’t totally faded. She did, however, have to admit that this society certainly promoted a much higher level of fitness than the Compound ever did. Maybe that’s why all the girls seemed so happy in spite of everything that was going on? She remembered reading about how stretching can stimulate happy chemicals in the brain, and these girls certainly seem to do a lot of it.

She was shaken back to attention by the P.E. teacher explaining something about testing and ranking their holes? A part of her really hoped that wouldn’t be a horrible, humiliating, degrading experience, but she expected that it probably would be.

The teacher led them all to a different section of the field. The first thing she noticed was a bunch of rectangular blocks about knee high and roughly four feet long. The second thing she noticed was the very prominent scoreboard that spanned one of the school's higher walls. On it seemed to be the name of every girl in the school. Actually, she noticed, every girl’s name was on it twice. The left section was labelled “Anal” and the right section was labelled “Vaginal.” From top to bottom had a smaller label that read “tightest” at the top and “loosest” at the bottom.

Was this really happening?? Was this school really going to test how tight her asshole and pussy were? And then post them up on a scoreboard for…. not just the whole school, but also anyone who happened to pass by?!? The thing that made her most sick to her stomach was the knowledge that if she performed as badly on this as she did on everything else, she’d almost certainly rank at the bottom. Her eyes darted to the very top of the board. The anal side had two names she knew. In first place Sharaje, just beneath her, Dephile. The vaginal scoreboard was reversed, with Dephile seeming to have the tightest cunt and Sharaje coming in second. Then she noticed Sharaje’s name again, in what appeared to be a place of honor above both lists. “Tightest hole: Sharaje’s anus” That must have been what the two of them were teasing each other about earlier. Sharaje’s taunt of “Loose Caboose” made more sense now. Ricki inwardly giggled at the immature wordplay.

Still the prospect made her feel a bit lightheaded. Each of the teachers read off a pair of names from a list, and two girls approached them. They each took their place on the wooden platforms on their hands and knees facing away from one another.

The instructor pulled a few supplies that seemed to have been stored inside the base of the platform. A peculiar rope, a bucket, and sturdy looking box. She grabbed the thin rope, it had a two-inch metal ball on each end. She roughly shoved the ball on one end into one of the girls vaginas and then did the same to the other, so that the rope hung between them, suspended by their cunts.

She then hooked the bucket over the midpoint of the rope, which was indicated by a red line. From the sturdy box, she pulled a small metal brick, about the size of a brownie and dropped it in the bucket.

As nervous as Ricki felt, she was still fascinated as she came to understand the process. A rope was held up by each girl’s hole, and weight was added to the midpoint. The first girl to release the rope was the loser. Furthermore, one could approximately rank tightness by knowing how much weight caused each girl to fail. Ricki guessed that the list of match-ups was determined by previous testing so that girls were going up against competitors of similar tightness.

“You’re gonna be at the bottom, loser.” Sharaje’s voice came from behind her, confirming her fears. The statuesque goddess followed up by grabbing Ricki’s pussy and roughly shoving a few fingers inside of her. She mockingly jerked the fingers side to side, causing a humiliatingly loud, wet noise with her genitals. A few of the girls nearby looked at her and laughed, some mocking how wet she was at the prospect of the whole school knowing that she was a used up slut with a sloppy cunt. She wasn’t actually wet at all, it seemed that Sharaje just had a certain expertise when it came to embarrassing other girls. “Yup, definitely last place,” Sharaje concluded as she used Ricki’s hair to wipe off her fingers.

Ricki tried to push her anxieties to the back of her mind and observe the bizarre challenge. Pairs of girls competed against each other to see who had the tightest cunt and asshole. Sometimes the winner would aggressively mock the girl she’d beaten, other times she’d boast and be congratulated by her friends on the victory while the loser was ignored.

Eventually she heard one of the teachers call a pair of names that prompted everyone to silence. “Dephile and Sharaje, you’re up!”

Sharaje bounded up girlishly, her perfect fake tits bouncing as she went, she faced her opponent with the typical arrogant “mean girl” smile. Dephile marched forward, her bare feet slapping the asphalt as her dense, muscular form took her place. She glared back with humorless menace.

The teacher commanded them to their places on the wooden platforms. The rest of the girls quieted down and crowded around to watch the top two girls compete. The two naked forms struck a perfect quadrupedal pose, backs arched to spread their asses; ensuring their holes were proudly displayed.

Their cunts were first to be tested. Each metal sphere was pushed into their perfect pink holes. Dephile’s puffy labia seemed to be just about the only part of her body that displayed any softness; even her artificially enhanced tits were taut.

Both girls had an expression of focused cockiness as the instructor hung the bucket from the midpoint between them. The dykey looking naked P.E. teacher didn’t waste time at the beginning; she tossed the iron blocks in as quickly as she could count them for the first twenty or so. After that she started slowing down a bit, adding one more before pausing for a count of five, then adding another. The time was to give them a chance to fail each time another weight was added. This went on for more than a minute; eventually the bucket was close to overflowing and the dyke twenty-something needed to quickly grab a second bucket that she hooked onto the rim of the first.

Ricki had to admit that she was kinda impressed. A few of the other girls had managed to get their bucket almost full before they failed, but these two were obviously way ahead of the other girls, and neither seemed like they were about the crack. Another full minute passed with the second bucket being almost half full and then it happened!

There was a loud sound of spilling iron as the bucket tumbled to the ground. “NOO!” It was the slightly butch voice of Dephile, who’d released first. Sharaje hopped to her feet and threw her hands in the air triumphantly, the rope still hanging from between her legs. After striking a victory pose for her classmates, she pulled the ball from her orifice and rubbed the cunt-juice saturated piece of metal on Dephile’s face mockingly. The muscular woman was clenching her teeth so hard it’s a wonder she didn’t crack one; Ricki could tell that it was taking everything she had not to beat Sharaje to within an inch of her life.

Ricki studied the encounter, it seemed almost as if there were unwritten social rules regarding when women could behave abusively toward one another. In this particular circumstance, Dephile needed to behave with deference. Was it because Sharaje had proven superiority? Did females in this society have complex rules of a perpetually shifting hierarchy? That seemed consistent with a lot of what she’d seen so far.

The teacher declared that they’d have a two minute rest before “testing your backdoor strength” as she put it. The sporty instructor seemed to be good-natured, and seemed to have a tattoo on her lower back that Ricki had been trying to make out. As she was re-setting some of the iron blocks from the buckets, she was finally able to make out that it said “Dyke 4 Dick” in a beautifully symmetrical script that framed her perky little ass.

There was a bit of a murmur from around Ricki. It seemed they were wondering if the rankings would be reversed this month, since Sharaje apparently had the tighter cunt for the first time. Ricki got the impression that Dephile had held that title as long as anyone remembered.

The two minutes were up and the cute lesbian whisled at the girls to resume their places while the rest of the girls watched. There had been a couple other pairs of girls being tested during their first round, but it seemed that the teachers and student-teachers respected that this was a big deal. So at the moment, all eyes were on the two naked sluts as the two-inch metal balls were shoved into their asses.

Dephile’s confidence seemed to be wavering, based on the scoreboard, her shitter had lost to Sharaje’s in the past. After all, it was the body part Sharaje was known for; hell, she was even named after her anus.

The teacher elected not to start from scratch, but simply hung the first full bucket from the mid-point in the rope. Neither girl seemed to have much of a problem. The second bucket was hooked to the rim as it had been the first time and she began counting in weights.

Both girls' assholes were tightly clenched around their respective ends of the apparatus, they seemed to have a deep sense of determination as the second bucket slowly filled up over the course of the next couple of minutes. When no more could fit in the second bucket, the dyke teacher looked back and forth between the two girls with the iron assholes. They both seemed to be showing signs of exertion, with Sharaje having a slightly greater sheen of perspiration. She waited a few moments to see if either of them would fail, but neither let go. She quickly rushed to get a third bucket, something she seemed utterly unprepared to need.

She returned and was preparing to attach the third bucket. Ricki found herself honestly rooting for Sharaje to win. She may have been a bully, but she was the closest thing Ricki had to a friend. Her heart sunk as she saw the arabian beauty’s face contort in exertion, she was reaching her limit. Then there was the loud clang of spilling metal that almost made her ears ring.

“Winner! Sharaje!” the teacher declared. Ricki looked to see Dephile with the ball having dropped out of her anus. She angrily punched the platform hard enough to draw blood on her knuckles. Sharaje sprung up from the platform, still breathing heavily from the exertion and let out this giggle-scream of triumph. She hopped over to Dephile, who had just reluctantly stood up, wound her arm back as far as it would go, and slapped the muscle-bound bitch hard across the face.

“Get ready to spend the next month kissing my asshole, you fucking loser!” Sharaje punctuated the sentence by grabbing a handful of Dephile’s hair and spitting in her face. Dephile looked broken, a combination of anger and shame washed across her face and threatened to flood out of her eyes in the form of tears. “You know, actually? You’re such an ugly jock loser that you don’t even deserve to kiss my asshole yet. I’m gonna have you beg to kiss every other girl’s asshole and tell them how much better they are then yours. Then, maybe when you’ve had some practice I’ll allow you the honor of pressing your lips against my perfect, superior hole.”

Sharaje seemed absolutely prepared to spend the remainder of the class period publicly humiliating Dephile, but the teacher stepped in and dismissed them back to their places so that the rest of the students could be tested.

For a moment, Ricki almost forgot that she would eventually have to be subjected to this same violation and humiliation. But she noticed a pit in the bottom of her stomach and her knees felt weak. She also became distinctly aware of the fact that the dizziness she experienced after the jog still hadn’t subsided. She wasn’t sure if she was really just that out of shape or if the stress of the day was really having that much of an impact. She elected to try to put her worries out of her mind and just focus on her breathing for a little while in the hopes that she’d be in better shape by the time her name was called.

She wasn’t.

Her heart was racing even before the dyke teacher called her name. It’s just nerves, she told herself, everyone else here is doing this and they’re all fine. This is normal here, it’ll just take some getting used to.

Ricki’s knees almost buckled when she took a step forward, but she managed to catch herself. She was paired off against the asian girl who was dressed like a slutty anime character in first period; the outfit was gone, but the hair and make-up still made her memorable.

After a few tries, Ricky managed to climb up onto the platform and assume the position. Though she nearly fell when she lifted a hand to wipe some of the sweat from her face. I’m still sweating? She didn’t feel hot, in fact the air on her naked skin was beginning to give her a bit of a chill.

She felt the metal ball pressing into her vagina, it took a bit of force for the teacher to get it in. After all, Ricki had never had anything bigger than her fingers inside herself, so maybe that’d work to her advantage, she thought. The metal ball wasn’t particularly big, but it’s bulk was still enough to cause a bit of pain when it was forced in. The teacher behind her hooked the bucket onto the midpoint of the rope, and Ricki immediately felt the cold metal mass withdraw from her and hit the ground.

There was a smattering of laughter from the other girls. “She’s so loose, she couldn’t even hold the empty bucket!!!” One of the girls shouted. Ricki turned her head to see who spoke but all she could see was a blurry mass of pink and brown flesh.

She felt the teacher’s hand gently on her bare shoulder, “I know this is your first time, fuckpet, but you need to clench a little bit at the beginning and then go harder as I add the weights, okay? Do you understand?” She sounded legitimately kind and encouraging.

“I understand. I… I’ll try better,” Ricki replied. She sensed the teacher moving behind her again, and felt the cold metal once again penetrate her. It fell out again almost immediately. She heard the other students taunting her again but they were starting to sound really distant. Her dizziness was getting worse by the second. She had a vague sense of the teacher at her side speaking to her again, but there was an encroaching blackness at the edges of her vision.

This wasn’t just nerves, something was wrong. Ricki was feeling really bad. She decided to try saying something to the teacher. She took a deep breath and as she tried to speak, everything went black…

#sodomvirus

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twit-moonstar · 4 years

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i fall to pieces: chapter one - roger taylor x fem!reader

N/A: Hey! This is just the first chapter of this little mini series I’ll do. I was intending on doing a big ass one shot but I can’t force myself to finish it so I decided to post what I have and see if there’s actually any interest on reading this. It’s a 80s Roger x Stripper!Reader, in case the little banner didn’t gave it away. Let me know your opinion and reblog the fic if you liked it <3

N/A2: I edited this myself, so pardon me if there’s any grammar mistake or incoherence! (Doesn’t excuse me but) English it’s not my first languaje.

Summary: When Y/N, a dancer at the Blue Velvet stripclub mets rockstar Roger Taylor, she’s torn between mistrust and flirting shamelessly but little by little they find a way to each other’s heart.

Warnings: There’s no smut in this bc i’m not up for it but there will be a few references to sex.

Words: roughly 3K

“Bring you ass here, Laura!” exclaimed Coco and you rejected the various shots that Laura offered you before she walked to Coco with a simple gesture of your hand. Applying the deep wine lipstick carefully, you smile in different ways in the mirror to try to get into this persona you had created for the club.

Working on the club night after night was taking its toll over you, and you were in desperate need of a vacation but you wouldn’t dare to ask Mike about it. Your rent was due in a week and you still needed a few pounds to get the amount of money you needed.

Maybe I should go on that date with that guy, Tate, you think. You already know him and how his crushes tended to go for the girl he had put his eye on—The fortunate chosen one would end up with a new shiny pair of brand shoes and a gold bracelet or a diamond necklace, all of that without even sleeping with him. Of course, those who did sleep with him could get a whole lot more but that wasn’t something that you were thrilled for— and he was certainly interested in you.

You walk out of the dressing room. The club wasn’t yet at its fullest, as it was fairly early yet. The lights, however, were starting to get lowered and soon the place would be bathed in blue and red.

“Busy night, Karma?” asks the new barmaid, Matt, you think. He’s been trying to get into your pants ever since he started to work, but you never pay him any attention.

“Not yet, Matthew,” you reply, passing by without looking at him and walking straight to a group of three men drinking beer and watching to one in particular.

They seem delighted with your presence as if you had chosen them for some special reason. By the end of two songs, you’re fifty pounds richer. It’s not the most you can get, but you’re tired and at this point of the week you don’t even care.

You walk to the bar and observe the club. It wasn’t the fanciest place, but it felt cheery enough for you after all this time. Sometimes it scared you how comfortable you felt there but you had to remember why you had started to work in a place like this.

A group of men enters, laughing at some joke probably, and they stumble to one of the black velvet sofas. As a dancer of the well-known Blue Velvet strip club—or as the owner preferred to call it ‘gentleman’s club’—, it wasn’t uncommon to see band members around. The almost-naked girls were beautiful and the alcohol was the good kind if you had the money, who wouldn’t be attracted to come? So when you recognise at least two of them as Roger Taylor and John Deacon, you’re not surprised.

You walk to the pole that’s right in front of them and start dancing, without looking at them at first, just to catch their attention. Bet they’re good money, you through, lucky me.

Much to your surprise, Roger requests for a private dance, just for him. That flattered you; you wouldn’t deny it. Rockstars usually picked someone else—like Ginger, with her long legs and big ass, or Coco, who had straight blonde hair and nice tits.

Of course, you had your charms, but usually, you would give private dances for rich and boring businessmen in suits. Never someone as exciting as Queen’s drummer.

With his blonde hair, mischievous blue eyes, and delicate yet strong features, he was, by far, the most attractive man you had ever met.

Despite your nervousness, you flashed him a flirty smile that he returned as you led him to a private room. He sits down on the black leather couch while you pour him a glass of whiskey.

“You don’t drink?” He says, taking a gulp and licking his lips afterward. You shake your head no with a little smile.

“I don’t drink while working, Mr. Taylor.”

He asked you then to not call him mister, to which you replied with a smile and an amused ‘yes, sir.’

“What’s your name?”

“Karma,” you replied simply, walking to the little selection of vinyl you had to play. “Do you like Pink Floyd? Or maybe Led Zeppelin?”

You know there’s a lot of magazines that gather trivial information like what’s his favourite band, or book, and even actress, but you never bother to buy them. You’re not greatly interested in keeping up with the life of any rockstar, to be honest. You’re quite busy trying to keep up with your own life.

He cocks his head slightly to the side, thinking for a moment before ignoring your question. “Why did you pick it?”

You weren’t bothered by his curiosity, although not many had asked you about it.

You had earned your nickname in your first week when you slapped a guy when he tried to undress you himself. Whereas some of the girls believed you would be instantly fired, the owner warned you against taking the matter into your own hands next time and let it slide, saying you had to call security next time—unless it was urgent.

To the exception of a few regular clients, who had already heard the story, men usually came to ogle over your body and not to learn anything about you.

“Because I’ll punch anyone who has it coming,” you reply.

“When is that?”

“When someone tries to piss me off trying to get way too handsy when I don’t allow it,” you say with a light and joyous tone. Oh, how you would be happy to throw a punch or two to some idiots that believed that could touch with no consequences because you were wearing little clothes. You had gained pretty much all of your patience just working here.

He took the glass to his mouth again to cover a nascent smile, but you notice the corner of his lips curving upwards.

It made you smile as well.

Despite the more than a generous tip that Roger gave you, you didn’t think he would come back and were pleasantly surprised to see him again two weeks later.

There was a certain lustful glow on his deep blue eyes, and you would lie if you said that the prospect of having his hands all over you didn’t send a jolt of desire straight to your core.

So you decided to end your dance by sitting on his lap, giving him a proper view of your almost naked tits, and taking his hands to slide them to your ass.

A little flirting never hurt anyone, you think.

He grinned at you. “You’re not gonna hit me, right, love?”

“Of course not, sir.”

He squeezed your ass and you grinded against him trying your best to follow the rhythm of the music.

“When does your shift end?”

You almost stop on your tracks at the question but you laugh softly instead.

“We only provide dancing services, sir. Don’t let your hands on my ass confuse you,” you replied teasingly, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t seem offended by the insinuation on your word’s choice but instead amused.

“I was planning on wine and dine you.”

This time you do stop moving and look at him, slowly getting out of his lap and standing in front of him. The music keeps playing, but you don’t move at all as you watch him carefully, searching for any hint of…

What were you looking exactly? Something in his eyes that gave away his true intentions, probably, since you always guided yourself by your mistrust when it came to people, especially men who were older than you.

“You did, huh?”

He’s obviously only interested in seeing what’s down the skimpy lingerie, right?

But he seems sincere, so you smile. “Fine.”

“Can I get your real name now, love? I think I deserve to know with whom I am having dinner,” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but smiled, nonetheless.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name, like savouring every syllable in his tongue, made your heart give a little jump on your chest. “Nice.”

Despite Roger’s best efforts to impress you and convince you to stay a night at his place, it takes two dates more before you finally agree to do so.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed you have enjoyed very much the expensive wine and fancy restaurants, but you truly enjoy his company and there’s this feeling that if you sleep with him once you will never see him again.

Not that you can see getting involved in a romantic relationship with him, but if you can just spend time with Roger, then you would take the most advantage out of it you could.

“Sit down, put yourself comfortable,” he says, walking into what you assume it’s the kitchen and you nod.

You observe the spacious place. The walls are painted with a warm cream colour, which doesn’t exactly match the wooden furniture, like the shelving on the corner. You’re surprised to see the great number of books and before you realise you’re standing in front of the shelving, caressing delicately a book spine.

You take one out and look at the cover. On the road by Jack Kerouac.

“That’s one of my favourites,” Roger’s voice says on your ear and you jump a little on your spot, which makes him smile. “Have you read it?”

“No. I was about to buy it once, but I choose another,” you say, opening a random page and reading whatever it catches your attention.

«"I love love," she said, closing her eyes, and I promised her beautiful love.”» You smiled. Would it be just a coincidence that you had read exactly that paragraph?

“What’s so funny?” he asks and you read it out loud for him. Roger looks into the nothing, his blue gaze deep in thought.

“That’s a good chapter,” he says simply and you nod, without knowing what to say.

Had been reading something like that a too-bold of a movement? You didn’t expect anything from him, you couldn’t have the luxury to fantasize about him. A few dates can’t mean anything, do they?There’s a strange shift in the air, and you hate it. Ten minutes ago you were laughing and whispering silly things on the corridor while trying to open the flat’s door.

“Do you have something to drink?” you say softly.

“You can keep the book if you want,” Roger said and you looked at the book on your hands. It’s in good condition, which means it’s either new or he hasn’t read it that many times, but he said it’s his favourite and you feel a little bad thinking about taking it.

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head and leaving the book on its place.

“If you don’t want to keep it, you can borrow it.”

“I’ll think about it. Now, what about that drink, uh?”

“Yeah, yeah. You like white wine?”

“Actually, do you have something without alcohol?” you ask, sheepishly, and he nods.

“Of course. You like Cola?”

You both sit down on the couch, facing each other, and drinking.“Y’know, we have been in three dates but I don’t think I know much about you,” he says and you bit your lower lip softly, which only brings his attention to your lips. He’s making conversation before fucking or is interested in knowing you? Men usually weren’t interested in hearing whatever you had to say, it was the sad truth and you had already gotten used to it.

“Nothing worth of telling you, to be honest,” you shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

“That’s a load of crap, and I don’t buy it,” he replies and you smile, before leaving the glass on the little coffee table. Getting closer to him, you finally connected your lips to his. It tastes of wine and the cigarette that he had been smoking earlier while driving.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” you whisper before deepening the kiss. He pulls apart, getting up and taking your hand to lead the way. Chit chat can come later if he still wants to be around after fucking.

You’re the first to wake up the next morning so you try to be as quiet as possible as you roll out of bed and go to the toilet to refresh yourself a little. You wash your face, trying to get rid of the eyeshadow under your eye as much as possible, and after you’re satisfied you tie your hair on a loose ponytail.

You’re already dressed, so all you need to do is get your bag and coat, write him a note or say goodbye if he’s awake and leaves. You open the toilet door and go to the living. Just as you’re putting on your coat, Roger gets out of the kitchen with a water bottle on his hand and smiles at you like he’s thinking gotcha.

“Stay for breakfast?”

“I got things to do,” you lie quickly. Roger raises an eyebrow, probably questioning your answer.

You’re one to value honesty but right now, you can’t bring yourself to spend more time with him. He’ll start to ask questions and that’s the last thing you want, as much as you like his company.

“Really? I’m starting to think you’re just using me for sex,” he says, with mocking hurt and you try not to smile.

“That’s a low blow,” you accuse.“What you got?”

“Coffee, toast and pop tarts,” he recites with closed eyes like he’s mentally looking through his cupboard.

You think he probably doesn’t have a lot of food right now since it’s the last days of the months. You wondered if someone did shopping for him and when was the last time he did? Did he ever do that? Was he able to do it now, being famous and all?

“What flavour?”

“Strawberry?”

“I want two,” you demand. Roger just nods with a smile.

You walk inside the kitchen and sit on a stool by the breakfast bar and observe Roger preparing breakfast. He’s wearing a white shirt and black sweatpants; his hair is dishevelled but it gives him certain charm.

“You slept well?” Roger asks, placing your coffee in front of you.

“Yeah, I think I can confidently say your bed is the most comfortable I’ve slept in.”

“You’re welcomed in again whenever you please,” he winks, taking a sip of his tea.

“Shut up,” you reply, taking a bit of your pop tart but you’re smiling.

“I’m serious, though, I’d love to repeat that. Dinner included, of course.”

“We’ll see,” you just say.

A long beat happens before you speak again. “Why are you so interested in me?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he says, sipping on his cup.

You sigh. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t, I’m just saying it’s strange.”

He raises an eyebrow, and his blue eyes are inquisitive, looking at your face like he could find on your eyes the answer to your constant changes between being apprehensive and flirting shamelessly. “Why?”

“Because I- I thought men like you wouldn’t be interested in someone like me?”

“Someone like you?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I think I can be interesting and, maybe, a good company but you could be with anyone you want,” you state like it’s obvious like it’s the kind of thing every man with a highly successful career thinks.

“And I want to spend my time with you, guess it’s because you’re good company,” he states, matter of factly but your expression must give away that you’re not so convinced so he takes one of your hands and interlocks your fingers.

“Look, I like you and as long as you’re willing to entertain my interest on you, I’m gonna keep asking you out.”He looks at your hands for a second before looking up to see you smiling down at him.

“Fine. I like you too, you know?”

“I know,” he replies with a cheeky smile.

“But I gotta go,” you say and he lets go of your hand.

“Can I pass to the toilet?“

“Go ahead, you know where it is.”

After you’re done, you get out of the toilet to put your coat on and get your purse. However, you’re not exactly sure of how to say goodbye, so you stand awkwardly in front of him, close by the door.

“C’mere,” he chuckles, softly pushing you flush against him and cradling your face to kiss your lips with delicately.

“See ya soon, love.” He opens the door and you step outside on the corridor.

“Goodbye, Rog. Thanks for yesterday, I enjoyed it very much,” you smile.

He grins. “Well, of course ya did.”

“Don’t get too cocky now, Taylor, you lean towards him, your mouth close to his ear. “It wasn’t me begging last night, after all,” you whisper and kiss his cheek quickly, like fearing being seen, and start walking to the elevator.

He watches you with a smile until the elevator door closes.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x female reader

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selfships-in-spanish · 3 years

Note

That spy post gave me WAY too many ideas: I can picture either a scenario in which Connor is a government agent who's chasing superspy/master thief Ona around the world a lá Carmen Sandiego, where she's constantly evading his grasp, or that Connor and Ona are rival spies for different governments who keep meeting and flirting with each other on-mission before being separated yet again - Simon-Data Anon

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

SIMON-DATA NON I MISSED YOU MY DARLING ❤❤❤ So glad to have you back in my inbox!!! Fgjdldfgkd I love your ideas so much omg.

The first scenario is just so *chef kiss*

Just imagine Connor chasing after her, this woman who is one of the most famous thieves alive, who always escapes his grasp and even toys with him, but in a way he sees what she is doing, stealing from Cyberlife (and Connor was not stupid himself, he knew Cyberlife had powerful items and did shady things) but not for own gain or profit, but to return items to their rightful owners. She’s some kind of modern Robin Hood.

They found themselves trapped in one of Cyberlife facilities one time, having to work together in order to make it out alive and unscratched. Connor had various cases going on at the same time, and the Cyberlife one had a new lead he got to follow. Needless to say it got dangerous, but working with her came surprisingly easy, even enjoyed it and had fun despite of almost dying. He felt alive.

“It was fun playing with you today, agent Stern. We should stop meeting each other like this, don’t you agree?”

Connor sometimes finds himself daydreaming about fluffy white hair and a playful smile disappearing into the night as beautiful olive-green eyes wink at him.

BUT DUDE THE IDEA OF BOTH BEING SPIES??? YES?????

All the rivalry between them, who’s the better spy, the better agent... (please something along The Man From Uncle with Napoleon and Illya, just roasting the other but not being able to leave the other to their fortune when they get in a situation).

Please we need a scene of Connor and Ona having to work together towards a same goal, infiltrating a high end party or something and Ona has to seduce a target in order to get intel, all while Connor slips into private aisles of the mansion where the party is held to gather evidence and intel of his own... but he didn’t count on Ona looking absolutely amazing in that beautiful and jaw-dropping dress. He needs a moment. Several, in fact, as well as a double bourbon shot because his throat is suddenly too dry and parched at the sight of her entering the room, her honey skin and freckles showing in what the slit of the dress allows Connor to see and–

“You may want to close your mouth before you ruin your beautiful suit with drool, cariño.”

Connor instantly closed his mouth, clearing his throat as if he hadn’t been absolutely bewitched by the sight. He ventured a quick look down as Ona sat next to him on the barstool, her movements oozing elegance and finesse as if she had been born with a silver spoon. That peek of her leg made Connor seriously consider to loosen his tie and pop open the first button of his shirt.

Ona ordered a Gin and Tonic, delighted to see they put her favourite pink tonic. Connor didn’t want to admit he shoot daggers to the barman winking at her as he delivered her drink. Connor decided he should keep his eyes up and not let himself venture down at all costs. He looked down again. Damn it. Her giggle made him look directly into her eyes, finding them full of mirth and mischief.

“It never gets old.” Ona took a sip of her drink, humming delighted at it. “So, any visual on the target?” She looked around discreetly while leaning in a little bit as she took another sip of her drink, Connor mimicking her.

“Behind us, the table on the left. It seems you may have some competition, honey.” Their target was occupied by already two beautiful women fanning over her. Ona arched her brow, licking her lips in anticipation. She enjoyed a challenge. Connor followed the movements of her tongue.

“That won’t be a problem. In fact, you’re gonna be part of the plan, so play along, darling.”

“Play along–?”

Ona grabbed Connor’s hand, putting it on her thigh. Connor’s hand instinctively twitched, the realisation of what her plan was dawning on him.

“Oh.”

Connor had to admit she was an impressive actress. Their target looked over the commotion, over Ona’s loud gasp and slap across his face. The sting made him think it was payback for that time in Rome when–

Oh, she was good. She stormed off with a “you men are disgusting”, grabbing her drink and purse and walking away from him to another seat, making sure the target was aware of the show and followed Ona with her eyes. Connor rubbed his cheek, the sting clearing his head. The barman from before came over him, handing another bourbon.

“She looks feisty huh. Better luck next time, man.”

Connor frowned, not liking the thought of this man being one of those who overstepped boundaries, but thanked him for the drink, agreeing as he had to maintain his role of “male with wounded pride”. He turned around just in time to see the target walking over where Ona was another cocktail in hand, crossing her long legs clad in an expensive looking suit and perfectly polished shoes.

Ona’s comm came alive in Connor’s ear.

“Are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice what happened before. Here, on the house.”

“Oh! How thoughtful of you. But yes, I am thank you. Men, right?” Ona played perfectly her role. She made sure their target had her attention solely on Ona, letting the mob boss get cosy with her.

“Oh darling, I know. Men are the worst.” The mob boss put an arm behind the couch they were in, getting closer to Ona. She played coy, letting herself be seduced, not knowing in the slightest she was the one being seduced.

Connor stood up when a certain piece of information was brought up, smirking as Ona pulled it out of the woman’s lips without effort. He knew where he had to go, and new Ona would entertain the target long enough for him to slip through security, find their prize and get out without anyone noticing anything.

He froze mid step when he heard the mob boss suggest her and Ona going somewhere more privately, specifically her rooms Where Connor was. He was going to murder her after they got out of that place.

(Needless to say the image of Ona’s lipstick smeared would be in his dreams for quite a little bit of time)

#dbh #detroit become human #rk800 #rk800 x oc #ask #mius answers #mius writes #simon data anon #spy master thief au #fuck it #we will think of a more fitting tag later #but for now #also I'm an idiot and hit publish before I finished #SORRY #IT GOT OUT OF FUCKING HANDS #BUT WELL

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Note

Tinder date anon here 😉: "is this a sign that you want to try?" That’s exactly what I’d like to read. Thanks 😊

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

Ahhh I am always glad to write about my babies, and I am going to try to write more for Ivar, in the future and I am currently working on two ideas, actually, for which super duper-hyped and hope I’ll be able to write them down soon!

In the meanwhile I hope you’ll enjoy this babe, over here, and I hope I was able to properly write Ivar’s first time (because... I am always nervous that I didn’t make it enough... perfect, so... I am sorry).

Also sinceI was asked to I am tagging, @youbloodymadgenius!

WARNINGS: Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Teasing, Mention of Second Round, Problem and Insecurities about the Sexual Area, Mention of Lingerie.

You rushed with Ivar back to your shared room, trying to avoid making too much noise, well-aware that his bothers were having a few drinks in the kitchen.

But you just couldn’t stifle your giggling, when Ivar got impatient and slammed you against the first dark alcove he found.

His hand roamed your body over the elegant dress, and you had a bad presentiment that it would be soon in shreds on the pavement.

You managed to reach your room, without any ‘incidents’, although your neck was pretty bruised because of Ivar’s attention.

You pushed him lightly away from you, and he looked at you almost offended, before you grabbed the little lingerie box from his hand, turning and sprinting for the bathroom, being able to lock out Ivar just as he stalked you as if you were his prey.

You smirked softly at the sight of your impatient lover and moved in the chosen lingerie as quickly as you could, although the various straps were quite confusing but you managed to pull through the entire thing and get yourself ready, making him wait a bit to adjust your make-up.

Especially adding to your lips, a burgundy lipstick which would match the entire assemble.

And after one last smirk at the mirror, you opened the door of the bathroom revealing yourself to Ivar, lightly leaning onto the threshold of the bathroom, in a pose that was somehow sexy…

… till you completely disrupted it almost falling forward as you lost your grip against the wall.

Ivar laughed under his breath, a playful look on his face and you literally glared the laugh out of him.

“… you are a dork” he still commented, and you sent him another warning look, before voicing your thoughts.

“Keep talking like that and the only thing you’ll get tonight is a kick in the ass” you reprimanded him, sitting on bed and turning your back to him, hearing a light laugh, as he undid his braces.

A little moan of pain bringing your head to turn, and you shifted your attention to him, adjusting your position to also have one of his legs onto your lap, in order to help him up, with a gentler hand than his.

“… you love me, don’t you?” he asked you softly, although it sounded more as a statement “… even if sometimes I am an asshole, sometimes”.

“Just sometimes?” you teased him, but his answer was to simply kiss your lips, making you definitely forget about anything going on in your mind, even your annoyance towards ‘your favorite asshole’.

Slowly you were pushed back in the plush bed, Ivar’s warm body completely holding you down with a pressure that was somehow comforting to you, as you lazily kissed each other, more out of the sensation the kisses made you feel, than to actually chase a long-lasting pleasure.

Ivar’s hand moved from your neck to your waist, meanwhile yours tangled in his hair, pushing his face closer to yours, before he moved to trace a line of firey kisses down your neck, making you giggle softly when his nose bumped against a particularly sensitive spot of your skin.

Which he then proceeded to nip and bite in a way that made you moan out loud and buckle your hips under him, using his thigh for friction, trying to follow the little sparkle of pleasure that his movements had ignited.

This wasn’t something that wasn’t unusual: make-out sessions happened more time than not with Ivar.

There was such a craving in your lover for human contact, that made you feel truly cherished and loved and you, yourself, thought that Ivar’s attentions could be quite pleasurable.

Usually you were the only one who was pleasured, during the times Ivar decided to ‘get further’ and this had always made you feel a bit egotistic, since you weren’t able to properly ‘return’ Ivar’s affections, and felt a bit uncomfortable in your relationship being so unequal, in the bedroom.

Because of this you had pushed Ivar to discover more about his own sexuality, mostly because you didn’t want this to become ‘tiring’ for him, although Ivar was more than happy to be rewarded with your ecstasy.

So, right now, you were head over the moon to know that he actually wanted to try.

But also understood that you had to take this slowly and softly and gently, to avoid bringing back bad memories and scare away your lover.

And as soon as Ivar got a bit distracted by your own attention, you promised yourself to properly worship your beloved’s body, pushing him lightly under you.

You, then, got up onto him, helping him in an upright position, so that you could get his shirt out of the way, being wonderfully surprised by his gorgeous chest.

The tattoo he had gotten on his eighteenth birthday would have looked vulgar on anyone, except him and, enthralled by the drawn ink, you followed softly the black lines, contrasting beautifully with his lightly bronzed skin.

You traced the lines till you reached his heart and there, Ivar’s hand came to gently grab yours there, making your eyes shot up to meet his, two pools of blue water shining through the darkest of your insecurities.

“… I am scared” he mumbled, and you could feel it, with the way his heart pounded crazily under your hands “… I am… I don’t… this isn’t easy for me”.

You leaned down, your forehead caressing his as you stared in those pretty eyes.

“It ok, I am also scared” you replied, pushing your joined hands to move away from his chest to yours, your heart matching perfectly his beating “… but we are going to take it slow”.

And you leaned down, in order to peace a little kiss onto his chest, where the skin raised a bit for the beating of his heart, effectively feeling him shift closer to you, as he relaxed a bit, although he was still stiff under you.

But you vowed yourself to make him as your kisses raised up onto his neck, making his breath still in his throat as you chuckled at his reaction, before you climbed softly his throat, teasing his Adam’s apple with just a caress of your lips and then moved to hover softly on his lips.

He looked at your lips, almost desperately, but didn’t make a move to join them together, nervous, but as you slowly moved down, he met you halfway with an impatience that made a thrill of satisfaction go down your back.

He wanted you as much, if not more, as you wanted him.

Desperately.

A little groan transmitted from his throat to your mouth, as you smirked, interrupting the kiss too early for him, who moaned in protest, but you silenced him with a quick kiss on his nose, and lightly grounded your core against his thigh, letting him feel your warmth through the ‘barely-there’ panties.

Another growl was emitted and suddenly the positions were turned again and this time as you thrusted up your hips, your core was met with his throbbing hardness, making you smirk, as Ivar’s lips claimed yours for a deep kiss.

“Fucking fuck…” he uttered right onto your lips, as you separated, before he dived in for another kiss, his tongue tracing your Cupid’s bow, before it moved to tease the inside of your mouth, as he waited for your own tongue to come out and play “… you taste like cotton candy and feel like it”.

“Am I saying that I am sticky?” you replied, unable to stop yourself from humoring lightly the situation, making Ivar smirk annoyedly, as he pushed with a tad more force his fingers in your hips, his favorite part of you.

“… I am saying that you are a fucking idiot” but the last part of his phrase became a moan as you again brushed your scantly-clad core against his hardness “… but you make me feel so good”.

“Isn’t that why you keep me around?” you joked, gently pushing him back by his hair, seeing a delicious darkness in his eyes, the light blue becoming a darkest shade, highlighting his desire and making you see the light reflection of your blushing form.

A small smirk of pleasure and teasing on your face.

“… oh, I thought I kept you around for your pretty ass”.

You jokingly tried to slap his chest, but he caught your hand and brought it to his lips, closing his eyes as if he was trying to memorize the softness of your skin and its perfume.

“I love you, so fucking much” he uttered as he slowly released your hand from his grip, and you immediately brought it to cup his face.

“Love you, too, big teddy bear”.

“I have a reputation”.

You giggled softly, but your voice turned into a high-pitched moan as Ivar drove his hardness right against your clothed core.

You had discovered, alongside Ivar, that getting hard wasn’t a problem, and the first time he had tried nervousness and anxiety had probably gotten the best of him, stopping him from focusing on the sensation.

And, according to Ivar he was more attracted to you than Margrethe.

You had discovered this, once an heated make-out session had gotten quite out of your hands.

You had been teasing Ivar with soft kisses and once you had been able to sit comfortably onto your sofa, to make out properly, he had started feeling strange and when you had jumped onto his lap, he had understood why.

He had a hard-on.

His little minute of happiness had been promptly interrupted by Elaine walking in, and he had tried his best to hide his very obvious arousal, as you blushed, embarrassed of being caught.

You had had small conversation about it, one in which Ivar continued on calling you ‘a goddess’ (which got to your head, not going to lie) and you tried to understand his fears about having sex with you, now that you were more than aware of him being capable enough for you.

‘What if I can’t… you know…’ you had beamed lightly at his reddish face ‘… and not comply the entire thing, like it doesn’t stay…’.

‘Hard?’ you had shot back, mimicking his teasing at your second date, and making him sent you an annoyed glare although it held no bite ‘… then you have a tongue and fingers…’.

You had stood your ground but hadn’t insisted, anymore, since Ivar hadn’t seemed very ready to ‘try’.

He had, then, started seeing a doctor to analyze the reason behind his ‘prick not fucking working properly’ and although you hadn’t pried too many information, Ivar had appeared a bit more comfortable with sex, although you hadn’t gone past the foreplay.

Till now.

You couldn’t help but feel blessed by his trust and choice, gently moaning in his mouth, as he leaned down for another kiss, any teasing pretense having disappeared from him, as he focused on the more sexual part of the night.

Something which you weren’t against, since your core was completely molten and wet and you weren’t satisfied anymore with Ivar’s teasing leg, even more when it wasn’t even naked.

“I want to feel you, Ivar” you asked, a desperate tone in your voice as he giggled roughly and got away from you slowly, making you moan in protest.

Your lips pouting, lightly.

But you were rewarded by the gorgeous sight of your naked lover, something that didn’t fail to steal your breath.

Although Ivar felt infinitely more comfortable with you, he still hadn’t decided to show himself completely naked and this time the choice must have been decided by the heat of the moment, to which you were grateful.

You gently pushed yourself closer to Ivar, who was now left only in black boxers, the outline of his manhood already appearing and your licked your lips at that sight, gently dragging your hand from his upper chest to his navel, scratching it lightly as you added a bit of pressure with your nails.

Ivar rolled back his eyes, your teasing certainly having a specific power on him.

You helped him out of his boxers, slipping them away from his legs, where your attention immediately focused.

Bony and knotty, they weren’t certainly traditionally beautiful.

But they belonged to the person you loved the most in the whole wide world, and this was enough to make them precious and dear to you, and you showed it to Ivar, caressing them softly, meanwhile you trailed the signs that your nails had left on his chest, with your lips.

This, alongside the pleasure coursing through his veins, was enough to make Ivar putty in your hands-

A truly magnificent sight, to see ‘that beast’ doomed under you.

“Is everything alright?” you muttered, wanting to take the next step, but having to know whether Ivar was ready for it or not “… can I touch you, there?”.

He nodded, his lips sealed, and his eyes focused on you, a shard of fear shining in them, but it didn’t stop him as you gently took his manhood in your hand, feeling him hiss.

You immediately searched his eyes, looking for confirmation and wondering whether he had felt pain or pleasure.

“Shit, I wasn’t expecting it to feel so good” he mumbled softly, and you smirked, biting onto his lower lip, dragging it meanwhile your hand gave his member another tug “… we should have done this before”.

“I wasn’t the one who didn’t want to try” you taunted and continued stroking him, meanwhile his hand gripped tightly the sheet “… and just you wait for what it’s more to come”.

The surprised confusion shining on his face was enough to make you giggle, and you dropped swiftly onto your knees and replaced your hand with your mouth, enveloping him with it and this time you were almost sure that Ivar’s soul had left his body, as he probably groaned it out.

You retreated and gave it a light lick, teasing the leaking head with your tongue and feeling it throb and twitch under him, its sensibility definitely being something that made you smirk.

You then proceeded to envelop him again in your mouth, taking more, meanwhile your hand did the rest of the work, bobbing the head as you raised to swallow more, making Ivar feel each inch of your throat.

But what surprised you was the fact that soon Ivar took control, immediately grabbing ahold of your head and pushing you down his cock, something that shocked you enough that you choked lightly on his manhood and Ivar, brought back from his pleasured state, immediately released his hold onto you.

“… I am sorry, I don’t know what happened to me” he excused himself, shifting away his attention from you, as the red on his cheeks became so evident that he could see it even in the dark “… I… it just felt good”.

“Don’t apologize babe” you comforted him, softly caressing one his thighs “… it just surprised me”.

He still was shy, and you pushed him down onto you, definitely telling him that you didn’t mind playing.

And as he felt your wetness again, he was already rutting against you.

And you couldn’t take it much more.

“Slip off my panties, I want to feel you” you whispered in his ear and he complied quickly probably because he totally understood the desire you were feeling.

And he almost ripped them off, making you yelp out that ‘he had just bought them’.

‘I had another set in the suitcase in case you didn’t like the first one’ he whispered, meanwhile he felt for the first time your wet heat against his manhood ‘… if we arrive at a second round, I want you in red’.

You giggled and gently changed your position, meanwhile Ivar quickly dismissed also your bra, exposing your naked chest to him, and he immediately laced onto one of your nipples, as you teased him, hovering your wet heath onto him.

“… is everything alright?” you asked him, looking at him in the eyes, as he replaced his mouth on his chest with his hands “… are you sure? You want me, right?”.

“Babe… I think that you are pretty aware that I want you” replied softly Ivar, making you laugh “… I am sure, I have never wanted anyone so much, like right now”.

A little tear came out of your eyes and you were irremediably unable to turn back to the time you had been without Ivar

You sank onto him slowly, trying not to upset him, but Ivar was simply able to scrunch his nose tighter, meanwhile his hands sunk in the sheets, so tight that the knuckles were white.

You, yourself, couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by pleasure, although you had to get yourself adjusted to Ivar’s length, stilling as Ivar pushed himself to lightly hug you, trying to keep himself to you as close as he could be.

This close you weren’t able to feel where you started and where Ivar ended.

It was enough to make you dizzy, but you pushed through the hazy pleasures and started rocking yourself lightly onto his legs, in a slow rhythm.

“I can feel everything” he sputtered out, his control slowly being lost to the pleasure “… you are so tight and warm, shit… you make me feel so good”.

You smiled, as you lightly accelerated the rhythm, making Ivar brush his pelvis against your clit, shock of pleasure and pain going through you as Ivar started to buckle up, more erratically than with actual intent.

And you soon understood why.

Ivar came into you, spilling himself without warning, something that brought you to feel a rather intense emotion, gripping onto Ivar as he rode out his orgasm, not truly understanding what was going on till it all ended, and he almost fell onto you, completely spent.

You giggled in his ear, tickling him with your breath and bringing him back to you.

“… apparently you are exactly like the other men” you joked, as you lightly pulled on his hair to face him, the ache in your core distracting you slightly, even more at the feel of Ivar’s cum, as his manhood softened inside you.

“Just like others?” he commented, feigning annoyance, meanwhile you brushed some sweaty hair away from his face.

“Hmmm, aren’t we pretentious?” you mumbled, moaning lightly as he exited you, your fold sensitive already.

And then realization hit Ivar.

“You haven’t come” he stated, definitely not a question, although you rushed to reassure him “… I haven’t… shit I… I am sorry”.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetie” you tried to make him relax “… you have made me come more time than not, without asking anything, so I don’t mind sacrificing for once”.

It still didn’t seem to convince him.

“… and it felt great” you praised him, meanwhile he nodded lightly, still not convinced by more comfortable as he pushed himself away from you, just to quickly move to the bathroom, returning back with a towel to clean you up, for which you were low key grateful “… and it just means that we will have more fun later”.

“Or immediately” he replied, as his gentle touches on your most intimate parts became almost teasing awakening the sparkling pleasure you had felt during the intercourse “… let me make it up to you”.

You simply moved to laying on your back, pushing your head on the mattress.

“Who am I to refuse this, then?”.

The following morning, after ‘that second round in red’, you had both woken up quite late and when you had joined the rest of the family for breakfast, they had already started, but thankfully Aslaugh had saved something for both you and Ivar.

What you were less grateful were the knowing looks that Hvitserk sent your way, meanwhile he literally elbowed his brother, wiggling his eyebrow.

But Ivar didn’t even seem to mind him, literally giving him no attention, since he was strangely… happy, even going as far as to laugh at a snarky comment of Sigurd towards their father.

Ragnar seemed the only one who hadn’t noticed the shift, something for which you were grateful since you were lightly nervous of Aslaugh’s and his judgement, but they were conversing amicably, meanwhile you consumed breakfast.

The one who was less amicable was Margrethe, making you aware that the walls in your room weren’t soundproof.

She had her face stuck in an expression of surprise mixed with disgust, and you gifted her with another ‘special moment’, sitting on Ivar’s laps as soon as he was finished with breakfast and tried to avoid washing the dishes.

He didn’t even notice it, too busy in a conversation with Ubbe about some local news, and you lightly teased him, playing with his hair and tugging on them lightly when you wanted his attention, and more specifically… his kisses.

After dishes had been washed and you, women, had helped Aslaugh getting the table ready for lunch (the sole thought of eating something after that breakfast was too much for you), the boys moved for the traditional ‘Christmas bath’, in their pool.

To which you had been invited, but you felt cold with a coat and three sweaters on, think with a bikini…

Aslaugh, alongside warm food, in fact had gotten a bottle of whiskey, scotch and some other liquor ready, before pouring herself a generous glass of wine.

She asked you and Margrethe whether you wanted also one: you denied it graciously and Margrethe did the same, before she gently caressed her stomach.

“Margrethe, it isn’t unlike you to reject offered glasses!” exclaimed Aslaugh, making her blush.

“I am with child” Margrethe simply commented, making Aslaugh’s eyes go wild at the surprise “… we didn’t want to say anything till Christmas, as a Christmas gift”.

Both you and Aslaugh exchanged with her honest congratulations, the older woman even going as far as to go hug the blonde woman and then you, smirking and commenting:

“This is truly a blessed year: I have gained a new grandchild and a new daughter” she joked, softly.

And you just smiled, a bit shinier as you met a wet Ivar’s gaze across the threshold.

It was a blessed year indeed.

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