#''have you tried-'' yes 💜 multiple times 💜

[waynes-multiverse]

Gladly 😂🫶

Loll I'm loving how you're writing his internal monologue -- matches his quirky personality well. 😂

One thing I missed when writing Beau (although he can be a lil goofball 💚). But Dean, Russell, and SB are just bound to have more hilarious inner monologues 🤣 (Russ did remind me a lot of PH Dean because of the blatant sneakiness. He's a little shit too lol)

Again, lmao great personality color, and so freakin' relatable!

His paranoia and suspicion was so fun to write throughout lol

LOLL. That's so very Colter. 😂

He was definitely not happy with Russell in this part 😅 LMAO. Classified, indeed. 😏 Can I hope for one of your legendary flashbacks in the future??

Welp, I might have caught the flashback bug. I went with a whole prequel this time 😂 (And of course, the kitchen island story comes back up in detail 😏) Most of the references to their past are actually stories in the prequel series. Was fun (and a bit insane) to wove 'em all in 🤪

Russ just HAD to bring up Reenie multiple times, didn't he? It's feeling very much The Misadventures of Russ and Colter, and I'm so here for it. 🤣

Bahaha totally! They're a bit of chaotic team 😂 I loved writing all the teasing about Reenie. Of course Russell wouldn't let that go (also a great deflection from his own problems lol)

(Also, not the "midlife crisis beard" 🤣)

lmao it comes back too 🤣🤣

But OMG they were married?!!! And why would she send the papers just to get his attention? Good Lord, so many questions…

Hahaha I loved dropping that casual reveal in there 😆 He was already so vague about how long they were actually together, this didn't feel like a big stretch lol

Ahh, makes sense. It tracks that Russ would be hard to pry open, even to someone he loves and has been in such close quarters with him for such a long time. (LOL Denver Airport. 👌🏽)

Yes, although reader knows pretty much everything about his backstory and his family. It was more that he was pretending it didn't bother or affect him, even though she could clearly see that it did until the dorment volcano became active again... 👀

It's so sweet to think Russ had a surrogate dad that actually treated him like a normal kid, teaching him how to throw a football, etc.

Yup, my heart couldn't take him being entirely alone for every holiday and birthday for over twenty years 😭 Totally makes sense too that he would "imprint" on reader's family and view them as his 🥹

Oh my GODD. They have a son together too?? What the hell happened between them? She left and took their son with her?

Well, we get into all of that in the next few parts... 😅

My heart is truly breaking for him, and now I need to know what the hell he did to make her actually leave him, even though they have two kids. 😭😭

Honestly, writing this scene wrecked me. He didn't even know if he had a daughter or second son like... 🤯😭 But I tried to show throughout that their life wasn't "normal." It was her way of trying to help him, so it was less about what he did than what he didn't do 😉

True to typical Wayne, this is an intricate cobweb of a story, Russell AND the reader are infinitely complex, and I'm very interested to see where you take this from here. 💜

Hahaha love that I'm getting that label now! Just wait till you read the Wayn'e Version meet-cute 😂😂🫶

Thank you so much, Alex! You always make me laugh so hard! I truly appreciate this (and you) 🤍🤍🤍

The Exit Strategy – Part 2

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, minor injuries, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, a reunion, more secrets and revelations 😉

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Guess, the cat's outta the bag! Couldn't reveal too much about the reader beforehand without ruining the surprise now, could I? 🤓 Cozy up in your favorite chair with eggnog. Hope you have some lovely holidays, guys ❤️

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Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

If Russell hated one thing in this world, it was playing The Waiting Game. The thought of being helplessly stuck inside a car with his hands metaphorically tied behind his back nearly wrecked his sanity. Well, whatever was left of it, anyways.

Colter had a point. Russell knew he could be a little paranoid sometimes, but considering everything he’d seen and done in his life, who could honestly blame him? It was only natural to feel a certain level of paranoia in his particular line of work. It kept him on his toes and, therefore, alive.

But maybe it had nothing to do with the job as he had always told himself. It might have been just a family trait he had inherited. And, well, he hated that fact even more than The Waiting Game.

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

What normal people would see as a perfectly nice, faithful woman picking up mail from the post office, Russell saw as a dead-drop pick-up.

There was a construction crew about three hundred yards to his right that seemed to be on constant break by their lack of work ethic. They also took turns to watch the supermarket closely. Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

And then, there was the cashier who handed you a flyer of some sort, which you accepted with a polite smile and stuffed in your purse. Live drop, Russell noted as he watched you walk out of the store hand in hand with your supposed husband.

It was all so abundantly clear to him, he almost couldn’t believe no one else could see it. It certainly worried him that Colter couldn’t.

What if…

What if he was in fact seeing things? Things that weren’t actually there. Ghosts of his past. No drops, live or dead. No secret surveillance in disguises. No fake husband – just a very real one.

Was that even legal? He figured it was under your new identity.

Russell shook the uncomfortable thought out of his mind and concentrated back on you. You stopped short by a row of shopping carts, exchanged a few words with your “husband”, and headed back inside. His little brother, of course, was hot on your tail, following you back in too.

That was when several alarm bells went off in Russell’s body. His head felt like the Liberty Bell on the Fourth of July. Experience told him: If it smelled like an ambush, it usually was.

Jumping into gear, Russell’s gaze snapped to your husband, who not only unloaded the groceries into the trunk of the car but also loaded a pistol and hid it underneath his sweater vest before heading toward the supermarket again.

Russell sprung into action rather quickly then, snatching his own semi-automatic from the glove compartment. Soon enough, he heard two familiar voices flowing out from a back alley behind the main building. There was no doubt in his mind that it was you and Colter.

As he rounded the corner, he had to stifle a laugh once he saw his little brother down on the ground, straddled by your legs. Russell had found himself in similar positions with you, but they had been mostly out of pleasure.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw.”

Russell watched as your hold on his brother swayed and shock claimed your expression.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he greeted your eyes with a cheeky smile as warmth spread through his heart.

Fuck, he had missed you.

“Russell?!”

Your jaw had fully dislodged itself as you slowly got back onto your feet and let go of your prisoner. But the shock of seeing your ex here of all places didn’t last long till it made way for your anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!”

“I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans. He stretched his sore muscles briefly before glaring at his older brother, who only offered him an apologetic smile and a half-assed shrug of one shoulder.

“Did you tell him to follow me?” you asked and pointed an accusatory finger at his younger brother while still glaring daggers at Russell. The similarity between them suddenly struck you, and you cursed yourself for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. “What was the plan here, huh?”

“Oh, trust me, he had no plan,” Colter muttered sourly, still recovering from your attack.

Russell clicked his tongue and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, he’s right. There wasn’t a plan. I just-… I had to see you. But once I did, well… here we are.”

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

You scoffed and shook your head. “You, of all people, should know better. You could’ve blown our cover. Months of work down the drain…”

“I think your cover’s still good,” Russell assured you with that same old lazy grin of his that was scarily charming and glanced at your partner. “Might wanna call off the cavalry, though.”

You shared a look with Tom, your partner during this mission.

“I’ll signal them. Clean up here,” he said, unamused, and disappeared back to the parking lot.

“Road crew in front of the store?” was all Russell asked. You confirmed it with a simple nod. Internally, he celebrated his little win. His instincts were still intact.

You exhaled a deep breath and threw your hands up. You had been so incredibly relaxed before that menace of a man waltzed back into your life – with a goddamn wrecking ball, no less. Now, the tension was crawling back into your shoulders.

“Russ, what the hell?”

Your question wasn’t filled with anger, however. You were just exhausted by today’s surprising turn of events. The life of a spy…

And probably the life with Russell, too.

“I know. I know, okay?” Russell held up two placating hands. Large hands. Warm. “Can we just talk? Somewhere… I don’t know.”

With some reservations, you still nodded. “There’s a church picnic at First Presbyterian tomorrow. It starts at one. We can talk there.”

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

“Church picnic?” Russell cocked a brow but was only met with your glare.

“Don’t mock. Be there,” you told him firmly and walked back inside the building. You still had to buy that damn milk. Covers were complicated to maintain – much like relationships.

Once you were out of sight, Russell let out a long sigh of relief, followed by a laugh of happiness. Step One was done. Only when the high of his meeting with you subsided, did he notice his brother’s exasperation.

Colter threw his hands in the air and stared at his sibling with incredulous eyes. “What the hell, Russell? What was that, man?”

“Right, yeah.” Russell bobbed his head calmly, smacking his lips. He knew he owed Colter an explanation at this stage of the mission.

“So, I’m guessing she’s not an old Army buddy of yours,” the younger Shaw started.

“No, not quite. She’s in the CIA,” Russell explained at last. He couldn’t help the grin. He was sure Colter would laugh about it eventually, too. Well, here was to hoping he would. “We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.”

Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

“Romantic,” Colter scoffed with sarcasm lacing his voice. Honestly, a part of him was happy for Russell. Another part, though, was incredibly furious for obvious reasons. “But I’m sorry – you had me stalk a CIA operative? During, what I assume is, some elaborate undercover mission?”

“It’s actually not that elaborate,” Russell quipped with amusement. “You shoulda seen half the things I’ve seen her do, so…”

“Oh, hilarious!” Colter shook his head at his childish brother. “Are you nuts?!”

“I think we’ve already established that,” Russell chuckled.

“You know, if Reenie finds out about this, she’s gonna kill me,” Colter said, and Russell swore his brother seemed close to breaking into a sweat. “Oh, you think this is still funny, huh? Guess who she’s gonna kill right after? You.”

Russell rolled his eyes at the unnecessary theatrics. “She’s not gonna find out unless you tell her, brother.”

With pursed lips, Colter nodded in defeat. “Can’t say I like you a lot right now, Russell.”

His older brother only snorted a laugh in response. “Oh, c’mon!”

“You probably would find it less funny if you had been beaten up by a 5’4” woman,” Colter continued and pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing. “Yeah, pretty sure she cracked a rib or two…”

“Don’t be a baby. Soldier up! You’re fine.” Russell patted his back roughly and inspected the swelling nose for good measure, causing Colter to groan in pain once more. “And by the way, pretty sure she’s only 5’3”.”

“What?! No! She’s at least… 5’4”, okay? Probably even 5’5”,” Colter argued, following Russell back to the truck.

Russell’s lips rose to a teasing smirk. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever gets you to sleep at night, little brother.”

“I will, thank you,” Colter deadpanned and unlocked the car. “So, you’re gonna go to this church picnic thing tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, not just me. We are going to this church picnic thing tomorrow,” Russell said with a cheeky grin and slid into the passenger seat.

“Well, you know, technically, I’ve already… found her. This is usually where my job ends,” Colter said with a tight smile and popped the key into the ignition.

“Yeah, well, not this time,” Russell replied, chuckling. “This ain’t a Colter mission. This is a Russell mission.”

“Oh, I got that, yeah. Thank you,” Colter said with a laugh that made his bruised ribs ache. “You know, you could’ve at least told me she was in the CIA.”

“Yeah, probably. But this was more fun,” Russell grinned.

“Did you know this whole time this was a clandestine operation?”

Russell sheepishly twitched his shoulders. “Well, not when we first got to town, but once I saw her in that outfit, I had a pretty strong inkling. I’m tellin’ ya, even if she had changed her entire life and personality, there’s no way she would have accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and savior. I mean, maybe if she suffered a traumatic brain injury…” Russell mused and then grinned. “Or if she got abducted by aliens!”

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head.

“It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

“Uh-huh… Did you even need me for this?” Colter leaned back against his seat and quirked an eyebrow.

“Hell yeah!” Russell assured eagerly before changing course. He dialed his enthusiasm back a little. “Well, honestly, I just needed your op analyst. I could’ve used one of my guys, but then that would’ve flagged it with someone upstairs, so… But c’mon! This was fun, right?”

“I don’t know, Russell. I usually prefer my fun to look a little different,” Colter deadpanned.

“With Reenie?” Russell wagged his eyebrows. The huge smirk on his face spoke volumes.

“Would you stop?!”

“‘Sides, this is nice, isn’t it? Us… hanging out?” Russell’s sly grin then morphed into a much softer and genuine smile.

“I guess, yeah,” Colter reluctantly agreed and shrugged his shoulders. But the tiny smile on his face wasn’t missed by Russell.

“Alright, let’s get some fuel,” Russell announced and playfully slapped his brother’s chest. “I’m starving. We also need to find a place where we can park that Airstream of yours. Maybe get a nice fire going, drink a few…”

“What is this? A sleepover? Did you just invite yourself?” Colter really wasn’t used to family members dropping in like this, but he couldn’t deny that it felt sort of nice, too.

“Yeah, I am. I mean, you didn’t offer. Would’ve been the polite thing, you know, considering I saved your ass last time,” Russell retorted puckishly.

Colter exhaled a humorous breath, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Alright, okay… Consider yourself invited.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Russell’s nerves leaped through the roof as he set foot onto the church grounds. A part of him expected his boot soles to leave burn marks in their wake on the perfectly green and trimmed lawn, considering his extensive list of sins.

Families, children, couples, and the elderly had all gathered in front of the church. There were picnic tables, blankets, even balloons and a banner. His green eyes, however, landed on the giant buffet, his mouth already beginning to water.

That’s also where he spotted you, handing out cupcakes and slices of pie with a pious smile on your face. Your hair was stuck behind your ears, a headband keeping it tightly in place. Your dress looked the same, only the flower pattern varied, with a tight cardigan around your shoulders that hid any naked skin.

Deceptively innocent, Russell thought, causing his mouth to water for a different reason.

“You okay? You nervous?” Colter checked with a curiously raised brow.

“Nervous? Me? No.” Russell gave a quick shake of his head, but his eyes were transfixed on you. “Gotta admit. That outfit’s doing something to me, though.”

Colter patted his shoulder blade. “Yeah, might wanna keep it in your pants, Russ. Pretty sure you get kicked out for impure thoughts.”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

The Shaw brothers then made their way over to your stand. Russell’s heart thumped louder with every new step he took towards you. And once he was so close he could smell your irresistible perfume, his smile only widened.

You, on the other hand, played your role flawlessly and pretended you didn’t know either brother in front of you. Your brows knit in question, but your devout smile remained the same.

“Gentlemen, how can I help you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” you said and subtly gestured your head to the pastor next to you.

Russell’s brow raised in understanding. He cleared his throat. “Oh, me and my brother just moved here. Looking for a new church. Heard this is the place,” he stated loud enough for the pastor to hear. “You know, we are very devout Christians. I mean, especially my brother here. If he doesn’t pray at least ten times a day, he gets real cranky.”

Colter threw him a look but decided to play along. “Oh, yeah, I just-… I hate that. Can’t pray enough, right?”

“Amen,” you said with all the sincerity you could muster. On the inside, however, you were bursting with laughter. Leave it to Russell to make you smile brighter than the sun.

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place,” the pastor chimed in with a cheerful smile that spelled kumbaya all the way through as he shook the brothers’ hands. “I’m Pastor Jeff. Welcome to our little congregation, folks.”

“God can never have enough sheep, am I right?” Russell quipped and wondered how long you’d already been undercover, playing your dutiful role as a Christian housewife. Five sentences in, and he already was at his limit.

“That’s right!” The pastor grinned broadly. “Please help yourselves to our delicious buffet.”

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

“Oh, you have to try the pie,” the pastor eagerly suggested and put an arm around your shoulders. “Our Nora here is an excellent baker. Her desserts are a real trend in our community. It is downright sinful. But shhhh, don’t tell the big man upstairs.”

“Secret’s safe with me, pastor,” Russell grinned slyly before meeting your eyes for the briefest second. “Say, do you do marriage counseling too?”

The glare you shot him had enough power to kill him from afar. You might as well have ordered a missile strike on him.

“Oh, my, yes, of course!” the pastor eagerly replied, causing your frown to deepen. “Are you married? Having a little trouble with the missus?”

“You could say that,” Russell earnestly played along and propped up his hands on his hips. “Everything was going fine, you know? And then one morning, just whoosh, gone. No explanation, no letter, no anonymous call from a pay phone…”

“Wow…” The pastor was stunned and enthralled by Russell’s colorful storytelling at the same time. You weren’t, however.

“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you feigned your sympathies with tight lips and a fierce glare at your former lover. “But you know what they say, the Lord giveth and he taketh away…”

“You know, Nora here is right. Our Lord does work in mysterious ways,” the pastor chimed in agreement.

“Amen, Pastor Jeff,” you said, smiling contentiously. “Do you have any idea why your wife left?”

“Oh, I’m afraid she’s as mysterious as the Lord,” Russell replied.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you forced a tight smile. “I don’t mean to overstep, but it sounds like someone was having a little trouble with commitment.”

“It does,” Pastor Jeff agreed. “Why do you think that is?”

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Russell’s head bobbed, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks. He was definitely feeling a spotlight on him. Even Colter seemed to curiously lean in. Then, the oldest Shaw clicked his tongue. “Rough childhood.”

Amused, Colter scoffed under his breath behind him. “You could say that.”

“Oh no.” The pastor sent the brothers a pitying look and turned his attention to the younger Shaw. “And what do you do?”

“Oh, uh… Well, before I moved in with my brother here, I lived in a trailer and traveled all over the country.”

“Sounds… lonely,” Pastor Jeff stated worriedly.

“Yeah, this one is a big lone wolf. He has commitment issues too,” Russell replied, earning him a scolding look from his brother.

“Uh, I don’t think we need to overshare, Russ.” Colter gave an awkward smile, turning to you and Pastor Jeff. “He’s kidding. I don’t have commitment issues.”

“It’s a sin to lie, Colter,” Russ noted. His tone was serious, but the twinkle in his green eyes was impish.

“What happened to your face there?” The pastor cocked his head and inspected the younger Shaw’s injuries.

Oof, he looked rough. The skin under his eyes and bridge of his nose were swollen and bruised, ranging in color from blue, purple to black. A thin burgundy line also graced his throat. You had done quite a number on him.

You should kick Russell’s ass for setting you both up like this. Who would do this to their little brother?

“Uh, you know, moving boxes…” Colter stammered with a shift of his weight from one foot to the other, pursing his lips.

Russell was a better liar than him, you noted.

“Yup, walked straight into one of those wood planks,” Russell added, oozing just the right amount of charm and humor to wrap the pastor around his finger. “Tiny thing, honestly, but still got him good.”

Oh, he was so proud of that too, you could tell. He smirked right at you. Well, they were both terrible liars.

“Not that tiny. Big, big plank,” Colter corrected. Apparently, you had bruised his ego, too. “Lucky to be alive, really.”

Yeah, he really was.

“Well, speaking of taking things away, I still have to get the eggs from the chickens,” you said, segueing the conversation to an exit strategy. “Excuse me.”

“Oh, you have chickens here?” Russell enthusiastically slapped Colter’s arm. “Did you hear that? They have chickens.”

“Yeah, uh, very exciting,” Colter said, subtly clearing his throat.

“We’ve always wanted chickens,” Russell clarified for the pastor, joining you by your side as you rounded the table. It wasn’t true, though. The brothers actually had a chicken coop at the cabin when they were kids and hated it. The hens were noisy, the rooster was the worst, and it was always a mess to clean up. “I love those clucking little buggers. And now that we have a big backyard… Mind if I come along and check out your setup?”

“Not at all,” you replied with a friendly smile.

“Great. Be right back,” Russell told his brother, hurrying after you before he eloquently made a U-turn back to the stand and grabbed a plate of pie.

“Take your time,” Colter said through a pressed smile, although he wondered how long he’d be stuck here for with the pastor and your fake husband.

“Clear,” you said and held the creaking wooden door of the coop open for Russell to follow inside. As soon as it fell shut behind you two, you crossed your arms. “Okay, talk.”

“What? Here? Now?” With squinted eyes and a cocked brow, Russell looked around the small and dark space full of farm fowl, hay, and feathers.

You threw your arms up in exasperation. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. What’s wrong with this place?”

“Nothing,” Russell said timidly and swallowed. He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, I just imagined this conversation a thousand times in my head, and it never happened in a chicken coop on church grounds.”

“Adorable,” you commented unamused, your brow knitting even more.

“All I’m sayin’ is, this just takes some time gettin’ used to…”

“Get used to it faster.”

Russell sighed. Then you did.

You softened your stance, crossed arms falling freely to your sides. “I’ve missed you,” you said earnestly and gifted him a small smile, taking in his changed appearance for the first time in detail.

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Now, clean-shaven, young, somewhat naive, and rule-following was replaced by a rebellious, midlife-crisis beard and the matching hair.

Ah, the t-shirt… Mötley Crüe. He found that thing eleven years ago at a thrift store in Arizona. It had a (bullet) hole on the left side of his lower back that you had patched – thrice. Once even with teething floss in a tent.

“How have you been?”

Russell’s head bobbed. He shrugged. “So-so.” Then he smiled. Soft and warm. The first few rays of sunshine on frozen winter skin. “I’ve missed you, too.” Then, the smile disappeared from his lips, replaced by contempt. “Got your divorce papers. Not signing them, by the way.”

“Good.” You smiled weakly. “I didn’t want you to sign them. I just sent them to get your attention.”

The relief that surged through Russell’s body was ineffable. For months, he thought he’d lost you – that you’d finally given up on him for good.

“How’s the new job working out?”

Russell’s lips drew a smirk, flirtatious charm glimmering in his forest green eyes. “What, you keeping tabs on me, sweetheart?”

You matched his expression. “Who do you think recommended you, huh?”

Russell stumped for a beat. His lips pursed, eyebrows drawing into a wondering v. “Well, they said someone did. Just didn’t think it was you.”

All this time, he’d believed you had crossed him out of your mind with a red pen as soon as you’d walked out the door that very morning.

“I told you. I’ll always look out for you,” you replied simply, a caring smile dancing on your lips. “So? Did it help? Are you any closer?”

“Yeah, guess so…” He paused for a moment, his gaze focused on the tips of his boots as he thought. “Not sure it was worth it, though. Actually, I’m fucking sure it wasn’t.”

You exhaled a long breath. You knew this day would come eventually. You knew he’d come back for you. Granted, you had expected him on your goddamn doorstep years ago, but he never showed. Sending divorce papers was a last resort in hopes he’d wake up then. That had been nine months ago.

“Why are you here, Russ?”

“Things have changed.”

Ah. That made things perfectly clear.

Lifting a brow, you crossed your arms again. “Is that why you brought your little brother along? As a show of good faith?”

“Kinda.”

“Poor Colter… How’s his nose?”

Russell wiped your sincere concerns away with a shrug. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just a scratch.”

Just a scratch…

“It’s weird… seeing you two together,” you said. For more than fifteen years, you had wondered. A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

That man could easily fill the Denver airport with his baggage.

“You look good,” you noted. You were trained to control your heartbeat, but he had always made your job harder. “Different.”

His fingers brushed his beard as if to emphasize the newness. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Well, uhm, I don’t hate it,” you said rather coyly. Did you want to give him a win? No. But if he stepped any closer, you would falter. Your cheeks blushed as the tip of your shoe drew circles in the sandy ground. Why did your ears suddenly feel so hot?

Russell smiled as heat crept to his cheeks as well. “Your new look is somethin’, too.”

“God, shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain here,” Russell teased. “Don’t let good Pastor Jeff hear ya.”

You laughed, scoffing. “I hate that man.”

“Pastor Jeff? I can tell,” Russell chuckled in amusement and finally stuffed his face with the first bite of pie, chewing a mouthful as he spoke. “But c’mon, he ain’t half bad.”

“Really? You don’t wanna shoot yourself after spending five minutes with him? ‘Cause I do. And it’s been months for me,” you said. “You don’t know what that man does in his office.”

“You bugged his office?”

“And the confession booth. Two words: game changer,” you said, wide-eyed. Russell whistled lowly. You narrowed your eyes at the half-eaten plate in his hands and the pie crumbs in his beard. You raised a scolding brow. “Did you really have to bring the pie?”

“Do you even know me at all? Of course I did.” Russell then shoved the last bite into his mouth to prove his petulant point. “Did you actually bake this?”

In expectant offense, you stepped back a little, crossing your arms again. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s good.”

“Do you even know me at all? What d’you think?”

“Thought so.” Russell gave a shrug of his shoulders. “The first bite of this didn’t give me immediate food poisoning.”

“Fuck you. I’m a great cook,” you huffed but couldn’t help the grin on your face. You had missed this – the bickering, the bantering, the fun. And Russell, the sly asshole, knew that, judging by his own smirk.

“There’s a lot of reasons why I love you, but your cooking skills ain’t one of ‘em, sweetheart,” he quipped.

“I’ll use you as shooting practice, Shaw,” you threatened playfully. Russell laughed, but it sounded more secretive than a laugh about a joke. “What?”

Russell’s eyes found yours. “Nothing. This is nice, right? We slid right back into it. Like the last three years never happened.”

“Russ…” You sighed, your heart hurting. For you, they happened.

“Just saying it was easy. That’s all,” he said with placating hands. “How’s the family? How’s your dad?”

That caused you to suck in a breath. You had wondered when he would finally dare to ask. You knew this was the real reason why he was here. “Dave finally married Jill last spring. It was a nice wedding. Florence, Italy. Got to wear a sun hat.”

“That’s good.” Russell smiled softly, although it stung that he wasn’t invited. He had always imagined he would be, once your brother popped the question to his longtime girlfriend. After all, Russell was the one who introduced the couple in the first place.

“They wanted to do it sooner, but because of the pandemic…”

“They shoulda done it ten years ago. I kept telling him to lock it down,” Russell quipped, the irony not entirely lost on him. He knew even if something was locked down, didn’t necessarily mean it would stay forever.

“You did,” you remembered with a fond smile. “They wanted you there,” you added, noticing his saddened expression. “It’s just-…”

“No, I know. Don’t worry about it,” Russell brushed it off with all the coolness he could muster at that moment.

“Russ…”

“I said it’s fine,” he repeated and forced another smile. “So, how’s the old man?”

Silently, you bit your lip and sent him a look that spoke volumes.

“Uh-oh. That bad, huh?”

“It’s the reason why I moved back here. To be closer… As close as I can be with this job. Figured it was best for everyone,” you explained. “In the beginning, he had a lot of good days, you know? Now they just all seem… bad.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” Russell replied, dumping his empty plate by the chickens. He stepped closer.

Uh-oh. Now, you were in trouble.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Russell’s brow jumped up. “What are you sorry for? It’s your dad.”

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.”

“Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

You snorted. “You could not,” you argued with a teasing smile. “You knew how to kill sweet little forest critters and turn your pee into drinking water. But you did not know how to throw a damn ball.”

“You’re never letting the pee thing go, are you?”

You shrugged. “It was a very memorable trip.”

Russell laughed at that. Then the melancholic sadness returned to his face. “How’s-, uhm, how’s Lewis?”

He’d made it through the list of your relatives, finishing with the most important one. And it stung so unbearably much it broke your heart for him. But in the end, you knew he’d done it to himself.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

“School, huh?” Russell huffed a devastating chuckle, the tears brimming in his eyes as the lump in his throat only grew. “Shit…”

It was getting to him, you could see, and he hadn’t expected that it would. Knowing Russell, he probably figured he could push through the pain and be fine. But he had never really been fine since the day you met him – and he wasn’t this time either as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the tears away, and turned his back to you with a hand clasped over his mouth.

“Should I stop?”

It felt like you were torturing him with a cruel new method of some PsyOp. Even if you had cursed this man for the past three years, your heart refused to see him hurt.

But Russell shook his head, finding your eyes again. He offered you a weak smile. “No, uh, don’t. Just tell me something about him, okay? I’m fine. Please.”

Sighing, you nodded in acceptance. “When my dad was better, he and Dave would take him fishing a lot. He loved it. He’s in his ‘backyard adventures’ phase,” you said, giggling softly. “He’s catching frogs and releasing them in the house. Never imagined I’d wake up with an amphibian on my head. It’s been a delightful experience.”

Russell laughed, but it was feeble at best. “I can imagine…”

And I can’t imagine I missed it all, he thought self-punishingly. But the hard part still hadn’t come yet.

“And, uhm…” Russell wrung for words, taking a deep breath. “How’s the baby? Is it–”

“She,” you stated, watching him swallow upon your correction. “Her name’s Amelia. She turned two in April.”

“Huh, girl…” His heart beat faster, grew bigger, and painfully yearned. His feet trembled to get home, wherever that was, and see them, but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t so easy, after all. “Guess I was right…” he said with a sad smile.

You had been sure you’d have another boy. However, Russell had bet you ten meatball subs – your craving at the time – that it wasn’t.

“What happened to Ann? Thought that’s the name we picked,” Russell teased in hopes of lightening the mood.

“Yeah, well, if you wanted a say, maybe you should’ve been there…” you retorted.

Russell should’ve known winning you over wouldn’t be as simple as spelling the ABC.

“You’re the one who left,” Russell muttered finger-pointing-ly under his breath.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why,” you bit glaringly.

Russell swallowed lightly, nodding. “You’re right. I do. I’m sorry.” Pausing, his eyes glanced around the coop before he gestured with a hand at your outfit, looking you up and down. “So, speaking of the kids, what’s going on here? Thought you were done with the deep-covers,” he changed the subject with a clear of his throat.

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

“I was. Had a desk job. Kinda…” A desk job in the CIA still never really was a desk job. “I was station chief in Paris.”

“Paris, huh? Fancy,” Russell said, but the joke didn’t reach the crinkles around his eyes.

“It’s the job I took after I left. We only moved back to the States in the beginning of the year,” you explained. “The kids loved it there, though. Lewis still gets a craving for crêpes every once in a while.”

Russell chuckled, even though every story added another bruise to his heart.

“Anyways, I got a job at Langley. Desk. Bought a house not too far from here, actually. It’s nice. Got a big backyard. Even bigger oak tree,” you told him with a smile. “Lewis wants me to build him a treehouse, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”

“I could help,” Russell offered, trying to keep his eagerness at bay when truly all he wanted was to race there and build the damn thing now. “I mean, if I can come by sometime…”

Your heart sank. “You can always come home. You always could, Russ.”

Home.

That four-letter word filled him with so much warmth and longing it brought back the tears in his eyes.

“So, uhm, why are you here and not there then?” This time, he switched the topic because he would’ve kissed you if he hadn’t. “You running a sting on the pastor or…?”

“One of his sheep.”

“Ah.” Russell nodded. “Need any help?”

“From you and Colter?”

“Yeah.”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, c’mon, just lemme help. The faster you get this done and over with, the sooner you can stop clutching your fake pearls and get home to the kids,” Russell reasoned.

You sighed, knowing he was partially right. You did hate your disguise as much as you hated the annoyingly nosy pastor. Moreover, you missed your children a fucking lot. It had already been three months. Fall was coming soon, and you had promised your son you’d be home by his first day of school.

“C’mon, how did they lure you back in, huh? Who’s the naughty little sheep you’re working?”

“Can’t talk about this here,” you told him, automatically lowering your voice. It was hard to remember who you were right now, when what you were used to be was standing right in front of you.

Russell quirked a brow. “Did you bug the coop, too?”

“No, the pastor’s scared of the chickens, which is why I didn’t bother. But you never know if someone else isn’t listening. We’ve already shared too much. We shouldn’t do this here,” you insisted, and Russell nodded in agreement. He knew the dangers as well as you did.

“Then where?”

You exhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment. You wanted to see him again. You knew he didn’t just come find you to catch up and then leave again.

“Come by the house tonight. Make it look natural. I’ll invite you guys to dinner as a sort of friendly welcome wagon to the neighborhood. The pastor is gonna buy it in a heartbeat. Just give me a good reason to invite you over.”

Russell nodded in understanding. “Alright.”

Part 3: This Is a Heart-To-Heart – SOON 💚

Welp, seems like Russell omitted having a wife and two kids... 🙈😂

I'll post the next part in the beginning of the new year or straight after Polaris has finished. We'll see ☺️

Enjoy the rest of your holidays, loves! Can't wait to read your comments on this one 😉🤍

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report

@deansimpalababy

[majorasnightmare]

my sleep schedules done that fun thing where it reverses itself suddenly out of nowhere and refuses to be normal

so i guess im sleeping during daylight hours for however long it takes to unfuck itself

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion

Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)

Length: 6k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.  

“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.  

“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.  

“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.  

“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”  

“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.  

“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.  

“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.  

“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all. 

And he should. 

Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.  

You’re missing.  

Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.  

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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.  

You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid. 

He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.  

Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.  

But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.  

Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.

He doesn’t mind. At all.  

So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.  

“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.  

“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.  

“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.  

“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.” 

“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.  

“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”  

“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him. 

“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says. 

You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.  

What could living with him look like? 

How long until he gets annoyed with you? 

“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.  

“It could be your home too, you know?” 

He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.  

“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.  

“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.  

“He’s here.” You say, 

And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.  

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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil. 

The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him. 

“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on. 

“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.  

“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit. 

It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.  

Once you look at him, his entire face softens. 

You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second. 

“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head. 

“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods. 

“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police. 

It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.” 

“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”  

“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car. 

The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.” 

“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-” 

“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes- 

Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase. 

“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.  

“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost. 

“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing. 

“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.” 

“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip. 

“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself. 

“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”  

“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin. 

“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say. 

And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting. 

“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.” 

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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife. 

That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?

Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself? 

Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already? 

You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.   

He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.  

A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.  

“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name.  “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.  

“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.  

“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.  

It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.

Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.  

“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.  

“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.  

“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.  

“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“ 

“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”  

Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.  

Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.  

“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.  

And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.  

“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.

What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her? 

“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling. 

“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.  

“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 

“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.” 

“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod. 

“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles. 

“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs. 

“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute. 

You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.  

“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you. 

“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head. 

“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you. 

“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.  

All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you. 

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.” 

“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods. 

“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug. 

“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.” 

“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles. 

“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-” 

“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you. 

It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on. 

He’s so in love with you.  

His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.  

Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.  

“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.” 

“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“ 

“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.  

“I’ll think about it.”  

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.  

“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”  

“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.  

“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.  

You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.  

“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.  

“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”  

“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles. 

“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.  

“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.  

“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.  

“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.  

This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.  

But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.  

There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.  

Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen? 

You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that. 

Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod. 

“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.

“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod. 

“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.  

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.

"But first, let me love you some more."

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers attempting to seduce an asexual reader. (Written for my asexual viewers).

Notes: This is meant to be purely humorous and fun. I wrote it for my asexual viewers in the hopes that I can put a smile on their faces. All the love in the world to you, my dears! 💜🤍🖤

-

Albert Wesker

After killing two survivors in the trial, Wesker took his time unbuttoning his shirt. Then he slid off his glasses and ruffled his hair- something he never did unless it was for someone very special.

Ever since he had arrived here, countless people had tried getting into his pants. He was used to it, honestly. And while the attention felt good, he wasn't interested in anyone else. No.

He was interested in 'you'.

Anticipating your arrival at a generator, Wesker casually leaned against the hill and posed, showing off his smooth, veiny muscles and glistening abs. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off the divine luxury of his biceps.

Oh yes, (y/n), look at him. Take it all in. Stare at the wondrous array of his beauty, his irresistible essence. There was no way you could resist him, no one could. Any second and you would either come running, or he would catch you staring at him like a red faced fish.

Grinning big in confidence, Wesker was midway through running his hand through his hair when he turned to see what your reaction was. He expected you to be excited, flustered and breathless, but instead...

You were rummaging through a chest, your side to him and your attention completely focused on the task at hand.

Ok, umm... What!?

Wesker pushed himself away from the hill. You were searching a chest? What? Why? What was so bloody important about 'that'? You should be paying attention to him.

Unable to believe it, Wesker watched as you proudly lifted up a flashlight that you clicked multiple times before standing up and tossing your old toolbox at the poor chest. Then you turned around and skipped away without a care in the world.

In the abyss, Wesker was left frustrated, humiliated and determined. Don't think that this was over with, (y/n), because it's not. Wesker isn't a man who likes to give up.

He'd have your attention eventually.

Herman Carter

He unlatches his mouth and head restraints and sheds his torn lab coat. His eyes glow a light pink as he unfastens his belt, untucks his shirt and purposely rips certain areas of his clothes thus leaving more lush, gorgeous skin to shine through.

They say that you were hard to get, But Herman liked to believe otherwise. Being one of the most popular people in the realm, his fame made him confident and certain of himself. If he wanted someone's attention, then he would get it.

Casually swinging his weapon around while guarding his perimeter, Herman kept an eye out for you. Any second and you should be returning to finish the generator.

When he finally saw you approach, he stretched, one arm moving behind his head to show off the gorgeous curve of his back and his strong muscles. His bare arms crackled with teasing electricity as he stroked his body, his fingers tugging at holes in his clothes and exposing the exciting view from within.

That's it, (y/n), look at him. Don't be shy. Bask in his charm and handsome, good looks. Stare at the way his muscles moved. Watch his strong thighs flex and let your imagination run wild. Yes.

Chancing a look in your direction, Herman expected to see you flustered, intimidated or frozen in awe, but instead...

You were talking to a crow.

Herman nearly dropped his weapon.

Are you joking him right now?

You were talking to a crow. Literally. You were kneeling down with a stick in your hand in which you tried to use to serenade the crow. Your back was to him and you were completely submerged in your essential conversation.

What on earth? Herman sighed in disbelief and frustration. Why were you talking to a crow? Were you mad? Look at him! He was practically famous- not to mention extraordinarily good looking. You shouldn't be paying attention to no crow.

Seeing as how he wasn't going to get your attention today, Herman sighed and walked away. You were certainly unique, but that only made him want you more.

Soon, (y/n). Very, very soon.

Frank Morrison

He was almost shaking with excitement as he took off his jacket and shirt. Today was the day. Today was the day that he finally got a rise out of you, and he would be the first. Everyone says you're unresponsive to this kind of act, but he begged to differ.

You just haven't got to see him in action yet is all.

Going so far as to unzip his pants, Frank then took his mask off and leaned against the rumbling generator. His plan was in motion. All he needed was to wait for you and everything would fall into place exactly how he wanted it to.

When he saw you come into view, Frank leaned back against the generator, stretching his arms and legs and glancing in your direction.

Go on, (y/n), look at him. Take it all in. Witness his exposed body and come undone. If you're good, he might even help you with all those flustered emotions. All you had to do was ask nicely.

Glancing in your direction, Frank catches you looking at him and he grins maliciously. Yes. That's it. He looks at you further, his body turning towards you as he gets ready to gesture you forward. Be good now, (y/n).

After a few seconds of staring at him though, something else caught your attention, and suddenly you were jogging off to a set of pillars nearby.

"Hey," Frank immediately protested as he pushed himself away from the generator. Where were you going?

Following you a bit, Frank's hands flew up in complete and utter disbelief.

A totem? You were cleansing a dull totem? Are you serious right now? What the heck!

Frank was utterly baffled. All of his hard work, and you barely even noticed him. Did you even have any kind of reaction at all? And what the hell was so great about a totem???

For a minute, Frank watched as you cleansed the totem and began searching the area for more, not a second glance given to him or the generator. Growling in frustration, Frank kicked the ground and wandered back to his stripped clothes.

They really weren't joking when they said you were unresponsive. Well, Frank wasn't joking either. He would get your attention one day, and he can guarantee that.

Evan MacMillan

He had worn his apron and jeans specifically for you. After he killed off at least two survivors, he shedded his apron thus leaving his upper body bare. Taking off his mask came next, and then he sat on a crate, patiently waiting for you to come around.

Most people love seeing him show off his strength, which is what he planned to do with you. If he could lure you in enough, then he would intimidate you, steal the words right out of your stuttering mouth and tell you what he knew you wanted deep, deep down.

Feeling himself burn with excitement, Evan nearly stood up too fast when he saw you come into view. Turning around, he kicked the generator, putting his muscles and strength on display. Then he grabbed a trap and kneeled down to set it, the air tickling his exposed crack.

Evan knew that he had a good body, and he wanted you to look at it. Look at it and imagine all the things it could do to you. Think about his strong thighs and thick waist. Think about his rough, calloused hands and fingers. Take it all in and imagine the possibilities.

Planning on playing the victim to your staring, Evan turned his head back, fully prepared to see you gawking at him. But instead...

You were looting David's belongings in which he had left after dying on a hook.

What in God's name?

Evan stood up, confused and somewhat irritated. Had you not noticed him? He growled, watching as you tossed out unimportant tools from a toolbox, completely focused on your own tasks.

You gotta be kidding him. This is what you were interested in instead of him? A toolbox? Really?

Crossing his arms, Evan sighed. He wasn't mad. He knew they had said that you were hard to get. Sure, he hadn't imagined you being quite this clueless, but still. It was strange.

Evan watched as you got your tools collected and skittered off in a different direction, and he shook his head in amusement. One of these days he was going to get a reaction from you. Just you wait.

Ji-woon Hak

They say you can't be seduced? Well, Ji-woon would like to prove otherwise. After all, who can resist the practical God of good looks? No one!

Wearing none other than his fancy swim shorts, Ji-woon was pumped with confidence and optimism. Getting your attention was going to be a piece of cake.

Waiting on top of a hill, Ji-woon waits until you come into view and then shouts to get your attention. You stop in your tracks and look at him. He smirks and takes out his throwing knives.

Facing a nearby fence, Ji-woon throws and throws his knives until he creates a heart shape in the old wood. Huffing in pride, he skillfully twirls a knife around while waiting your reaction.

You were staring at the fence, seeming to be in awe.

Ji-woon grins and strokes his hair, mumbling arrogant phrases in Korean as he begins to walk down the hill. On his way, he pushes his shorts down a bit, exposing the fine ridges of his pelvic bones. Then he trails his fingers down his sides and over his abs.

By the time he looks up to give you a wink, he sees you staring at him with a somewhat emotionless face. He smiled, ready to throw out the grand finale.

But suddenly...

Something passed by your face. It was a butterfly. A butterfly that had you gasping in delight and grinning big. Not but a few seconds after it flew by, you began chasing it.

"Eh?" Ji-woon was dumbfounded.

You. Were. Chasing. A. Butterfly?!

How could you be chasing a butterfly instead of paying attention to him? Come on. He just put on a big show for you. You should be falling to pieces in admiration and lust.

And yet you were chasing a freakin butterfly!!!

Cursing, Ji-woon covered his face and shook his head. You really were a difficult person to please. But, no matter. The more challenging the person, the more fun the possibilities.

Chuckling fondly, Ji-woon fought against chasing the butterfly with you. Instead he watched, adoring your childish nature.

Don't worry, (y/n), he wasn't giving up. One day he would steal your heart. One day...

[kingofbodyrolls]

Last Night in Magic Shop | pjm

You find yourself down at the local club, Magic Shop, because your best friend feels like your lovelife is dry as ice. You did not plan on meeting a handsome stranger, who moves his body like an angel, but speaks like the devil. Feeling like he might match your nasty needs, you take him home, enjoying an unforgettable night filled with pleasure.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Genre + AUs: strangers to lovers, one night stand, vampire!au, smut (pwp), and a little sprinkle of angst and fluff (it’s very short and minor) → Word Count: 12.5k → Rating: mature / +18 → Warnings: explicit smut, exhibitionism + semi public sex (they are in a car and kinda get caught and they stop), kissing, grinding, thighs (yes it’s a warning), a harness (as fashion, yes, also a warning), choking, dirty talk, power play (it’s very dynamic but they are both trying to be more dominant, lol), dom/sub undertones, pleasing kink, oral (female and male receiving), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, biting, mentions of blood (it’s brief at the end), rough sex, but also very intimate, breast and nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, spitting— in general this one is very dirty, flirty and rough!  → Author’s note: hi!!!! This is my gift to all you lovely people that follow me, and also to everyone else too! 💜 I really want to thank you, for following me, for reading my stories, for following my recs and library and helping me to show love to all the other authors on this platform that way 🫶 Thank you, truly. This is my gift to you— for my 1k follower milestone 🥳 It actually happened some time ago, I was still writing my long series at the time, so I didn’t really have time to celebrate it, but I really wanted to, so here I am bearing a gift! It’s another filthy one, and I have so much fun writing these, because this isn’t what I normally write (I’m more the fluffy and smutty, a lot of detail and words type of gal). I appreciate you all so much, and to those few people who really interact with me by commenting, messaging me, and just being there— thank you, you are incredible and I love you so much 🥹 Thank you, I hope you enjoy this one 💜  → Author’s note(2): this is pure utter filth yet again. I didn’t proofread this (I might do it later and find my stupid mistakes), but right now, I’m not in the mood. I hope it isn’t horrible, I’m feeling like that myself, but I really tried to make it extra filthy (more so than what I usually write). I do still hope that you enjoy and like it 🌸

Do you prefer to read on AO3? Well, it's posted there too!

Despite your usual aversion to clubbing—the cacophony of deafening music, the stifling heat enveloping you, your skimpy outfit clinging to your skin like a second layer—somehow, you find yourself succumbing to the relentless persuasion of your best friend, Hana, who insists on dragging you down to the pulsating heart of the local club scene, Magic Shop. Why you’re willingly diving into this chaotic abyss, well, that’s a fucking mystery even to you.

As Hana navigates the bustling bar to order drinks, you scan the crowded expanse for a spot to settle, but every booth seems occupied in this sea of bodies pulsating to the throb of the music. Amidst the frenzy, your gaze drifts inevitably to the dance floor, where a blonde haired man commands attention with his effortless grace, his movements a symphony of fluidity and raw sensuality. Mesmerized, you can’t tear your eyes away, tracing the contours of his physique, the chiseled jawline, the tantalizing glimpse of collarbones beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The way that he moves his hips, undulating and assaulting the air like he’s making love to it, sends dangerous spikes of arousal through your body. And then, your breath catches as you notice the daring accessory adorning his torso—a leather harness, snugly embracing his waist wrapped around him twice and being collected at his shoulders, with a tantalizing hint of danger, leaving you spellbound and inexplicably captivated.

No. That couldn’t possibly be your saliva glistening on the floor, could it?

“Have you found a place to sit?” Hana’s voice interrupts your trance, but as you remain transfixed, she tracks your gaze to the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor, drawing an eclectic crowd like moths to a flame. With a knowing chuckle, she realizes the source of your fixation.

“Ah... Jimin has caught your eye,” she chuckles, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips as she wets them with the tip of her tongue. With a playful wink, she acknowledges your attraction before swiftly scanning the room for the elusive empty booth you had overlooked.

She drags you along with your drinks to an unoccupied booth, the crimson leather beckoning like a siren’s call. You both sink into the plush seats, but your attention remains tethered to Jimin, captivated by his every fluid motion.

You’re spellbound, utterly captivated by the mesmerizing display unfolding before you. How does someone possess such mastery over their own body? With each twist and turn, Jimin exudes a level of control that borders on otherworldly, his slender frame clad in skin-tight leather pants that leave little to the imagination. His thighs, robust and powerful, evoke a primal longing within you, God, what you’d do to be crushed by those.

The sound of something snapping jolts you from your trance, and you instinctively tear your gaze away from Jimin, heat flooding your cheeks and ears as you turn towards your best friend. Your heart pounds, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration, as her fingers snap, commanding your attention back to her, a silent reminder of the real world beyond your intoxicating reverie.

“You’ve got it bad for him,” she smirks, teasing and taunting in equal measure as she swirls her straw through her drink, a wicked gleam dancing in her eyes before her lips playfully encircles the straw, a silent challenge hanging in the air.

“No, I don't,” you declare, the lie hanging heavy in the air, though you’re well aware she sees right through you. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, betraying your denial, while your gaze remains ensnared by the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor. With each pulse of the music, your heart threatens to break free from your chest, pounding an erratic rhythm of desire and apprehension.

“You and every other soul in Magic Shop,” she bursts out laughing, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she brings her drink to her lips once more, the ice clinking against the glass in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the music.

Your brows knit together in a mix of frustration and discomfort. She’s keenly aware of how long it’s been since you’ve let loose, both on the dance floor and in the bedroom. She knows the ache of longing that's settled deep within you, a silent companion during those lonely nights. And perhaps that’s why she’s orchestrated this night out, dragging you to this chaotic den of temptation, her intentions as transparent as glass: she wants you to indulge, to find release in the arms of another.

Yet, despite Hana’s persistent nudges towards potential romantic connections, you harbor little optimism for any amorous encounters tonight beyond enjoying the company of your friend. It’s not that you hold rigid standards, per se, but after navigating through numerous relationships and even dalliances with one-night stands, you’ve come to a firm conclusion: you don’t crave love, nor do you feel a pressing need for a man in your life. However, Hana sees it differently; she views your reluctance to dive back into the dating pool as a lamentable missed opportunity for some good dick, hence her relentless efforts to nudge you towards potential romantic escapades.

None of your past relationships have managed to captivate you for long; they’ve all fallen short of taming your restless spirit or fulfilling your insatiable hunger. None have been able to meet you on equal footing, to sate the voracious appetite that burns within you.

But as you watch Jimin, something shifts within you, challenging your steadfast stance on one-night stands. Holy fuck, the man’s dancing is nothing short of mesmerizing, and if you claimed you weren’t already feeling a surge of arousal just from laying eyes on him, well, that would be a blatant lie.

He might just possess the rare ability to match your intensity, your insatiable hunger for connection. He exudes an aura of irresistibility that both entices and intimidates you, knowing full well he could be too much to handle. But you revel in the thrill of the chase too much to resist the temptation of a potentially unforgettable encounter.

You find yourself unable to shake the thought: does the way he moves on the dance floor hint at his prowess between the sheets? Those hips, snapping and thrusting with such abandon, leave little to the imagination, igniting fantasies of what they could do in a more intimate setting. If only it weren’t just the air he was thrusting into…

Fuck.

A shiver of apprehension snakes down your spine as you witness the crowd parting, creating a path directly towards you. Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as you realize the magnetic force drawing him closer is aimed squarely in your direction.

His gaze, as dark as the depths of the club’s chaos, pierces through the tumult, locking onto you with a laser-like intensity. In those obsidian orbs, a potent mixture of desire, confidence, and a hint of something dangerous dances. A quick flick of his tongue over his lips sends a jolt of electricity through the air, so fleeting you almost doubt you saw it, yet you can’t shake the image of something glinting, sharp, nestled between his teeth.

Your pulse races even faster, a frantic rhythm matching the pounding bass of the music, as Hana’s kick under the table barely registers amidst the magnetic pull of Jimin’s gaze. With each step he takes toward you, the air grows thinner, suffused with the heady anticipation of his proximity. Your lungs strain for oxygen, chest heaving with each shallow breath, as he finally stands before you, a commanding presence that leaves you breathless and utterly captivated.

“Hi,” his voice is a seductive melody, dripping with a sweetness that lingers in the air like honey. His complexion, paler than the moonlight, seems to shimmer under the dim lights of the club, casting an ethereal glow that draws you in even closer.

“I haven’t seen you in The Magic Shop before. Care to dance?” His invitation is laced with an enticing charm, emphasized by the subtle swipe of his tongue over his lips, leaving them glistening with a tempting sheen. Those lips, plush and inviting, evoke a sinful allure, almost reminiscent of a Bratz doll, but with a touch of dangerous sophistication. And his eyes, simultaneously gentle yet piercing, hold a captivating depth that beckons you further into his intoxicating world.

For a fleeting moment, you’re rendered speechless, caught off guard by his proposition, until Hana’s insistent nudge against your shin reignites your senses. With a jolt, your mind snaps back into focus, racing to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling within you.

You can’t help but smile, warmth flooding your cheeks as a rosy hue paints your features. “Sure,” you reply, the word escaping in a breathless whisper, your heart pounding in anticipation of what the night may hold.

With a quick glance and an apologetic smile, you abandon both Hana and the untouched drink sitting before you, the promise of the dance floor eclipsing any lingering sense of guilt. She waves you off with a knowing smirk and a playful wink, seamlessly returning her attention to her own drink, her silent encouragement echoing in your mind as you navigate towards Jimin.

With a firm yet gentle grip, Jimin guides you back to the heart of the pulsating dance floor, his touch igniting a wave of electric anticipation. Envious gazes track your every move as he positions you in the center, his fingers finding their place on your hips with a confident precision. With each sway to the rhythm, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you and the music.

You’re enveloped in a trance-like state, surrendering to the rhythm dictated by his touch. While you may not consider yourself a skilled dancer, you grasp onto the simplicity of a few basic moves, but in this moment, you relinquish control, allowing the music to guide your every sway and dip, melding your body to its seductive melody.

Amidst the snickers and the encroaching dancers, Jimin remains unfazed, his attention steadfastly fixed on you and you alone. The world may swirl with whispers and glances, but in his eyes, there’s only the two of you, locked in a mesmerizing dance of desire and lust.

Drawing nearer, Jimin’s presence becomes almost suffocating, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in. His voice, dripping with a seductive allure that sends shivers down your spine, wraps around you like a venomous embrace. “What’s your name?” He murmurs, each word laced with a potent mixture of desire and danger, leaving you utterly captivated.

“Y/N,” you pant, the syllables escaping your lips in a breathless whisper, as if each letter were a confession of the wildfire burning within you. Your heart races like a runaway train, its thunderous beats drowning out the cacophony of the club around you. A flush of heat spreads through your body, igniting a primal fire that blazes from within, leaving you certain that every inch of you must be dripping with arousal, pooling at your feet like molten desire.

“I’m Jimin,” he introduces himself, the words carrying a weight of promise as his fingers tighten around your hips, almost leaving an imprint on your skin. You nod in silent acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between you, as if the intensity of his touch speaks volumes more than mere words ever could.

Suddenly, he spins you around, pulling you flush against him, his dick pressing intimately against your ass as he grinds against you with an electrifying urgency. Resting his head on your shoulder, he envelops you in his intoxicating presence, the rhythm of the music pulsating through both of you. “You know,” he whispers huskily into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “I can smell you from here. And damn, you smell so damn good.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he playfully nips at your earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. With a daring touch, his hand edges dangerously close to your core, his fingers trailing along the hem of your dress, hiking it up just enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

The pressure of his body against yours, the rhythmic grind of his hips, brings an undeniable awareness of the growing bulge pressing into you with every movement. Each subtle thrust sends a surge of heat coursing through you, igniting an even fiercer desire that has you practically dripping with anticipation.

Releasing your hips with a tantalizing touch, he withdraws slightly, allowing you a moment to dance before him, a silent invitation to showcase your allure. His gaze, smoldering with appreciation, traces the curves of your body as he maneuvers around you, closing the distance once more. As he resumes his sensual grind against you, you're entranced by the fluidity of his movements, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the magnetic pull of his presence.

“Are you some kind of professional dancer?” You manage to question, though the words emerge as a breathless whisper, your lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to contain the moan that hovers on the edge of your lips, provoked by the tantalizing roll of his hips against your own.

Awareness of the surrounding stares registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but in this pulsating sea of bodies, everyone’s lost in their own rhythm. The only thing that matters is the intoxicating sensation of Jimin’s body pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

He leans in once more, his voice a seductive melody laced with a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m a dancer.” Each word drips with an intoxicating allure, drawing you deeper into the irresistible allure of his world.

You gulp audibly, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, where his heart beats with a rhythm so languid, it could almost convince you it’s ceased to beat altogether. Yet, beneath the surface, it pulses steadily, a silent testament to the calm amidst the storm of his fervent movements upon the dance floor.

You lock eyes with him, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So,” you tease, your voice barely a whisper, “are you as flexible in bed as you are on the dance floor?”

He licks his lips once more, a subtle gesture that sends a jolt of anticipation coursing through you. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of something primal, something dangerously alluring flickering in the depths of his eyes. But before you can grasp it fully, it vanishes like a wisp of smoke, leaving you both captivated and curious.

His laughter spills forth, rich and raspy, a symphony that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze. His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens, transforming his face into a captivating portrait of mischief and allure. Leaning in close, his breath dances tantalizingly against your ear, each word a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “Take me to your place,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive promise, “and you’ll find out.”

Your mind reels as a torrent of thoughts flood your senses.

Fuck. Is he for real?

Is this happening? Is he serious? 

Pausing for a heartbeat, you draw back slightly, your gaze sweeping over him as you search for any hint of deceit or jest. The intensity of the moment demands clarity, and you refuse to be swept away without knowing if his words hold genuine intent or mere flirtatious banter.

“You heard correctly, darling. If you take me home, can I taste you?” His question hangs in the air, his eyes betraying an innocence that sharply contrasts with the sinful allure of his voice, each word dripping with a seductive promise that sets your pulse racing.

You swallow, hard, a surge of desire mingling with a tinge of apprehension as his words ignite a primal response within you. Your body betrays you, slick with anticipation, a physical manifestation of your yearning for the dangerous allure he exudes. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself drawn to the danger like a moth to a flame, craving the exhilarating thrill of the unknown that he represents.

“Yes,” you moan, unable to resist the primal urge coursing through you, as you press your hips into his, igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the air, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him.

With every passing moment, it feels like the world around you is spinning out of control, but amidst the chaos, one thing remains crystal clear: the overwhelming desire pulsating between you and him. Driven by an insatiable hunger, you seize his hand and lead him back to the booth where you and Hana were previously seated, your heart pounding with the anticipation of what’s to come.

As you approach the booth, the scene unfolds before you—Hana seated on a stranger’s lap, their lips locked in a passionate embrace. With a mixture of amusement and urgency, you gently tap her shoulder, disrupting the fervent kiss as you insert yourself back into the moment.

Hana’s face lights up as she turns to greet you, her smile infectious and her laughter filling the air with vibrant energy. “Leaving already?” She exclaims, her voice buoyant with excitement. “Enjoy yourselves!” With a carefree wave and a raucous cheer, she dives back into her passionate exchange, leaving you to embark on your own adventure.

With a sense of trust and understanding between you and Hana, you leave the club, confident that she can handle herself. However, you both value communication and keeping each other informed of your whereabouts. As you step outside, you swiftly retrieve your phone, shooting her a quick text to let her know that you and Jimin are heading to your place.

His fingers, cool against your skin in contrast to the warmth of the night air, envelop you in a sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. Yet, in this moment, the chill is a welcome contrast to the heat of the anticipation swirling around you.

“I’ve ordered an Uber,” he announces with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with desire, a hunger that mirrors your own. Your response is a throaty moan, an instinctive acknowledgment of the electrifying tension between you.

He draws nearer, his presence overwhelming as he pulls you into the circle of his arms. His lips tease over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation in their wake, before tracing a path to your ear. With a husky whisper that sends shivers cascading down your spine, he confesses, “I really can’t wait to taste you.”

You whimper softly, a mixture of desire and frustration escaping with each breath. The intensity of his desire ignites a fierce longing within you, matching your own fervor for him. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every passing second stretching into an eternity as you yearn for the arrival of the Uber to whisk you away to your place where you can finally satiate the burning desire between you.

As the car pulls up, Jimin graciously holds the door open, a silent invitation into the sanctuary of the backseat. You slide in first, feeling the heat of his presence close behind as he joins you, the space between you shrinking until you’re sitting intimately close, every breath shared in the electric anticipation of what's to come.

You relay your address to the Uber driver, the words tumbling from your lips with a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of your heart. With each passing moment, you draw closer to the sanctuary of your home, to the promise of Jimin’s touch enveloping you, surrounding you, until you’re consumed by the fiery desire that burns between you.

Jimin’s lips glisten with a subtle sheen as he licks them, a tantalizing gesture that sets your senses ablaze. His touch, cool against the warmth of your skin, sends a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine as his fingers find purchase on your thigh. With your dress hitched up slightly, you can’t help but tense at the sensation, every nerve alive with the electric current of his touch.

You bite down on your lip, a surge of anticipation coursing through you as his fingers inch closer and closer to your core. Your body responds with an undeniable urgency, your arousal evident in the way your pussy clenches and glistens with desire. Every fiber of your being screams with need, your craving for him reaching a fever pitch. With his fingers poised just shy of their destination, his gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

“Can I?” He murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite down on your lip with a fervor that borders on desperation, the taste of copper flooding your senses as you draw blood. With a sharp inhale, you part your thighs, offering him unrestricted access to the throbbing ache between them, your drenched cunt aching to be touched, to be claimed by him.

His fingers remain still, a maddening contrast to the raging desire coursing through you, and frustration begins to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. In a desperate attempt to incite movement, you roll your hips, a silent plea for his touch to ignite the fire within you. Instead, his response is unexpected, his grip on your thigh tightening with a roughness that sends a jolt of electricity racing through you.

“Use your words, pretty.”

His gaze is penetrating, holding you in a vice grip of intensity that leaves you breathless and trembling. As you feel yourself drowning in the depth of his eyes, a desperate plea escapes your lips in a whispered whimper, “Please.”

You part your legs wider, a silent invitation for him to delve deeper into the intoxicating depths of your desire. In response, he surges forward, capturing your lips with his own in a searing kiss that ignites a fiery passion between you. His lips, impossibly soft and pillowy, leave you yearning for more even as they reluctantly part from yours. As his hand finally descends to your bare pussy, stroking your exposed clit with deliberate intent, his words hang in the air like a taunt, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief that leaves you trembling with anticipation.

You chuckle, a bold and bratty streak emerging within you as you revel in the delicious tension between you. “I’m not,” you reply, your voice laced with a playful defiance that only serves to fuel the fire between you.

He returns to kissing you with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, the heat of his lips melding with yours in a passionate dance of desire. Each kiss is a tantalizing blend of heat and moisture, igniting a primal hunger within you. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their exploration of your core, teasing you with light strokes that send waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, a strangled moan escapes your lips, echoing the depth of your pleasure. As your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the stern gaze of the Uber driver reflected in the rearview mirror. Without a word spoken, his disapproving stare speaks volumes, conveying his unspoken demand with chilling clarity, leaving you both startled and exhilarated by the illicit thrill of being caught in the act.

You reluctantly pull away from Jimin’s embrace, your breath ragged and labored, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you address both him and the Uber driver. “Sorry,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of apology and urgency lacing your words. With a silent gesture to Jimin, you convey the unspoken agreement to restrain yourselves until you reach the privacy of your own home, the anticipation of what's to come only adding to the charged atmosphere between you.

Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder, seeking solace in his warmth, your hand finding its place on his thigh, tantalizingly close to the growing bulge in his pants.

The car ride feels like an eternity, every passing moment tinged with the tension of anticipation and the weight of the Uber driver’s disapproving gaze in the rearview mirror. As the vehicle finally comes to a halt in front of your apartment building, you’re met once again with the stern glare of the driver, a silent reminder of the boundaries you’ve overstepped. With a contrite nod, you silently acknowledge his unspoken reprimand, eager to escape the confines of the car and indulge in the privacy of your own space.

Jimin shadows your every move as you lead the way to the elevator, his presence a palpable force at your back. With a silent determination, you press the buttons, the soft chime signaling the arrival of the elevator. Stepping inside, the silence between you hangs heavy, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. As you press the button for the 7th floor, the doors begin to slide shut, sealing you in. Before you can react, Jimin’s hands are on you, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall with a force that steals your breath away.

His lips capture yours in a searing kiss, igniting a blaze of desire that consumes you both. As his tongue seeks entrance, you part your lips willingly, inviting him into a sensual dance of intertwining desires. Together, your tongues swirl and dance in a passionate embrace, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through every fiber of your being.

A low, guttural moan escapes your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as waves of heat and need cascade through your body. Every touch, every sensation leaves you burning with desire, your body aching for more of him, yearning to be consumed by the fire of his touch.

His roughness only fuels the fire burning within you, each forceful movement igniting a primal hunger that drives you wild with desire. The sensation of being pressed against the elevator wall sends shivers of excitement coursing through your body, intensifying the urgent need building between you. Unable to resist the intoxicating pull, you grind your core against his, the friction sending sparks flying and eliciting a guttural groan of pleasure from him, further fueling the fiery passion enveloping you both.

With a sudden ding, the elevator doors slide open, signaling your arrival at your floor with a jolt of anticipation.

A thin strand of saliva lingers, a tangible link between you and Jimin as you reluctantly part from his plush lips. The intensity of your kiss leaves you both breathless, panting heavily as if you’ve exerted yourselves far more than you actually have.

With a sense of urgency, you dart out of the elevator, tugging him along in your wake, each step quickened by the feverish anticipation coursing through your veins. As you approach your door, your movements become frantic, fingers fumbling in your purse in search of the keys, while his hands boldly explore the curves of your ass, fingers gripping with a hunger that mirrors your own.

A shiver of raw desire courses through you, electrifying every nerve as the keys slip from your trembling fingers. With a shaky breath, you bend down to retrieve them, the movement pressing your ass tantalizingly against his hardened dick, sending a jolt of anticipation surging through both of you.

A deep, primal growl escapes him, a guttural symphony of desire as you press your body against his, grinding against his throbbing cock with a fervor that leaves you both breathless. Finally seizing the keys, you straighten up, the charged silence between you, signaling the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable night.

Before slipping the keys into the lock, you cast a teasing glance over your shoulder, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you drink in the sight of him. His eyes are dark pools of desire, wide and unblinking, reflecting a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. In that moment, you recognize the potent combination of lust and danger lurking within him, a heady concoction that only serves to heighten the intensity of your desire.

As you turn the key in the lock, the door swings open, but before you can even react, Jimin’s strength propels you forward, pressing you firmly against it. With a forceful urgency, he shoves you against the wall inside, your back meeting it with a thud, his movements swift as he swiftly closes and locks the door behind him. Keys tumble from your grasp once more, but in the heat of the moment, their clatter goes unnoticed. His lips find yours again in a searing kiss, a low growl rumbling from deep within him as he hungrily seeks to devour you, his desire palpable and insatiable.

“I want you so bad, please tell me I can have you,” he pants between feverish kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he pleads for permission, his desire echoing in every word. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his passion, you respond with a soft moan, your head nodding in silent affirmation, giving yourself over completely to the irresistible pull of his longing.

In a sudden rush of boldness, you recall his desire for vocal affirmation, and with a newfound confidence, you meet his gaze head-on. “I want you too,” you declare, your voice laced with a breathless urgency. “I want to suck your dick,” you continue, your words dripping with a raw desire that sets your pulse racing.

A deep, primal groan escapes him, reverberating through your shared kiss, as he breaks away just long enough to deliver his fervent response. “No,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to taste you,” he declares, his words a promise of untold pleasures yet to come.

With a commanding presence, he presses his body against yours, pinning you firmly to the wall as his lips hover tantalizingly close to your neck, poised over your throbbing pulse point. In a surge of passion, he dives in, his kisses and licks igniting a fervent blaze of desire that leaves you gasping for air, each grunt and growl a primal symphony of pleasure echoing through the heated embrace.

His hands roam hungrily over your hips, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive urgency that sends shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, your own hands, rendered momentarily powerless by the overwhelming intensity of his touch, hang limply at your sides, unable to resist his commanding hold.

One of his thighs effortlessly slots between yours, pressing intimately against your core and sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. The friction ignites a primal response, coaxing a wanton moan to escape your lips, its echoes reverberating through the otherwise quiet hallway of your apartment.

As your brain snaps back to attention, your hands instinctively find their way to his hips, tracing the lines of his body with a newfound sense of purpose. With a boldness born of desire, you seek out his hardened dick, stroking him through the fabric of his pants with a firm yet teasing touch. His response is immediate and intense, a guttural moan escaping his lips and mingling with the heat of your kiss.

Your touch elicits a symphony of sweet, needy noises from him, each sound fueling the fire of your desire until you notice a subtle shift in his gaze. In that moment, something snaps within him, a primal instinct unleashed as his eyes darken with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze.

With a sudden, electrifying intensity, one of his hands ascends to your neck, his fingers curling possessively around it as he begins to exert pressure, cutting off your air supply. 

The sensation of oxygen deprivation sends a rush of lightheaded euphoria coursing through you, mingling with the overwhelming arousal that pulses relentlessly through your veins. In that moment, every nerve in your body ignites with a primal hunger, the boundary between pleasure and pain blurring into a tantalizing blur of ecstasy.

With an irresistible force, he withdraws slightly, his fingers maintaining their tight grip around your neck, a gesture of rough dominance that sets your senses ablaze with anticipation. Despite the intensity of his touch, there’s a calculated restraint in his actions, a deliberate balance between aggression and control that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. As you meet his gaze, you’re ensnared by the dark depths of his eyes, which shimmer with a potent combination of desire, danger, and an unspoken promise of untold pleasures yet to come. The sensation has your stomach knotting with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Behave,” he hisses, his words a menacing command that sends a shiver down your spine as you struggle for precious air, denied by his unyielding grip. With a wicked smirk, he releases his hold on your throat, and you stagger, your body nearly buckling beneath the weight of the intensity that courses through you, threatening to send you crumbling to the floor in a dizzying haze of desire and submission.

Gasping for air, your chest heaves with the effort as you cough, the sensation of your lungs burning only fueling your resolve. With determination shining bright in your eyes, you meet his gaze head-on. “No,” you assert, your voice trembling with defiance yet laced with an undeniable sense of strength and conviction.

With a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, you lick them in anticipation before lowering yourself gracefully to the floor, your gaze locked on his with an unspoken challenge. Swift and determined, your fingers deftly find the button of his sleek black leather pants, skillfully undoing them before defying gravity and pulling them down along with his boxers, exposing him fully to your hungry gaze. 

As his cock springs free, a resounding thud fills the room as it hits his stomach, the sound echoing off the walls with a palpable intensity. Thick and girthy, it stands proudly before you. While he may not boast the longest length you’ve encountered, you recognize that true pleasure lies not in size alone, but in the mastery of technique and the depth of connection shared between two bodies.

Anticipation courses through you like a current as you contemplate the possibilities of his prowess, a hunger igniting within you at the thought of experiencing his mastery firsthand. His cock, a work of art in its own right, boasts a rosy head glistening with a single droplet of precum, a tantalizing preview of the delights to come. With a confident grip, you encircle it with your hand, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from his lips as you begin to explore the contours of his dick.

With innocent doe eyes, you gaze up at him, lashes fluttering like the delicate wings of a butterfly, as you teasingly dart out your tongue to caress the glistening head of his cock. Each lick is a deliberate stroke of temptation, your movements reminiscent of savoring an ice cream cone on a scorching summer day, the taste of him a delectable treat to be savored. And all the while, your eyes remain locked with his, a silent challenge passing between you.

“You’re misbehaving,” he pants, his voice laced with a mixture of warning and desire, yet his gaze softens with an unmistakable tenderness that belies any true threat. But the allure of pushing his boundaries further is too intoxicating to resist, so you continue your ministrations with a defiant smirk, relishing in the delicious tension that crackles between you.

“But you like it, don’t you?” You tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you bat your eyes at him once more. Your hand continues its rhythmic stroking, each movement eliciting a fervent pant of pleasure from him, as the lines between restraint and abandon blur in the heat of the moment.

“I can tell,” you purr, a mischievous smirk dancing upon your lips as you lean in to kiss the head of his cock. With tantalizing finesse, your tongue traces along his slit, teasingly exploring every contour and eliciting a shiver of pleasure that courses through him like wildfire.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice thick with desire as his body quivers under your touch, every sensation echoing with raw intensity. And oh, how you revel in it, the sheer power of your influence over him igniting a fire within you that burns with insatiable passion.

“Spit on my tongue,” you command, your voice a sultry whisper as you eagerly present your tongue before him, a bold invitation that speaks volumes of your desire. The air crackles with anticipation as you wait for his response, every moment pregnant with the promise of ecstasy.

He regards you with a questioning gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re a nasty one, aren’t you?” He muses, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

“Yes. I’m nasty,” you assert, your voice dripping with unabashed confidence as you hold his gaze, unyielding in your demand. “Now spit in my mouth,” with an enticing flicker of your tongue, you beckon him to fulfill your desire, every nerve alive with anticipation for the illicit thrill that awaits.

Immediately complying, he spits on your awaiting tongue, a primal act of submission and passion that ignites a fiery intensity between you. With a seductive smile playing on your lips, you tease him with a playful sway of your hips before taking his dick deep into your mouth in one smooth motion.

You start with a deliberate rhythm, drawing him in with deliberate slowness that belies the fervent desire burning within you. Each inch of him fills your mouth, your throat accommodating his cock as you battle your own limits, a testament to your unwavering dedication to his pleasure. His fingers intertwine with your hair, a gentle yet commanding hold that guides and encourages you to unleash the full force of your prowess.

“Oh fuck,” he rasps, his voice trembling with raw desire as you envelop him with your mouth, every movement sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

You mumble around his cock, the vibrations sending a symphony of pleasure through his body, each note echoing with the intensity of your desire.

He begins to fuck into your warm mouth with urgency, his thrusts gaining momentum with each slide, his grunts coming out in ragged breaths, sounding like he’s thoroughly out of breath.

“You’re doing so good, such a good girl,” he pants, his gaze fixated on you, your mouth enveloping him completely. The sight alone drives him wild, his arousal escalating as he feels his dick twitching inside your warm, welcoming mouth.

One of his hands grabs your cheek and pushes you further into him, your nose grazing against his dark brown pubic hair, leaving you gasping for air as you feel yourself choking on his dick.

“That’s what you get for misbehaving,” he grunts, a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his dick.

You gasp desperately for air, tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the saliva cascading from your lips.

Amidst your desperate panting, his chuckle pierces the air, laden with a menacing edge. Yet, fueled by your own defiance, you can’t resist the urge to unleash the brat within. With newfound fervor, you envelop him once more, your mouth moving in a wild, frenzied rhythm, eager to reclaim your dominance.

His hands grip your hair once more, tugging gently, an urgent plea in his touch. “I don’t want to come yet,” he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint and desire, a silent request for restraint echoed in his words.

Determined, you persist with fervor, each suction more insistent than the last, as if your very existence hinges on the rhythm of your movements. Sensing his impending release, his body becomes a symphony of tension and release, an exquisite dance to the crescendo of pleasure. Yet you press on, his hands now motionless in your hair, surrendering to the inevitable ecstasy building within him.

You moan softly, the vibration adding to the intensity of the moment, your cheeks hollowing as you draw him in, each breath drawn through your nose a desperate echo of your own need. Glancing up at him, you’re met with eyes ablaze, a visage of pure desire and disarray, his appearance a testament to the pleasure that courses through his veins, leaving him utterly ravished.

You press yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper until it meets the resistance of your throat. His fingers tighten around your hair, a sensation that ignites a thrilling burn along your scalp, a welcomed discomfort that fuels your desire. With a frustrated hiss, he releases into your waiting mouth, warm liquid cascading down your throat. You fight the urge to gag, focusing on steady breaths through your nose, grounding yourself in the moment as he reaches the peak of ecstasy.

He gasps, his breath ragged, a testament to his spent state as you continue to coax out every last tremor of pleasure. He lets out a whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity, prompting you to release his dick with a satisfying pop, a glistening string of saliva bridging the connection between you once more.

“You little minx,” he pants, playfully slapping your cheek as a smirk dances on his lips, his eyes ablaze with mischief, like a wildfire of desire.

“I tried so hard not to come, but I guess you had other plans,” he chuckles, his gaze fixed on you as you lick your lips teasingly, each movement a silent invitation for more mischief.

“Yeah, the night is still young,” you declare, rising to your feet with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Without hesitation, you extend your tongue once more, and this time, Jimin eagerly spits into your waiting mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“You’re so nasty,” he smirks, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, as if he’s eager to devour every inch of your being.

When you finally pull apart, you can’t help but chuckle softly. “And you love every bit of it,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

He clearly revels in it, evident as he steps back, shedding his pants and boxers until they form a pool at his feet. Even his shoes aren’t spared, kicked off swiftly as he stands there, completely bare from the waist down.

Despite his softened dick, he remains an arresting sight, captivating and dangerous in his nakedness, every contour and line a testament to his allure.

With effortless strength, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you through your apartment, a smirk playing on his lips. “Bedroom?” He suggests, his voice laced with anticipation.

You chuckle softly, nodding towards your right, and with a casual tap of his foot, he swings the bedroom door open. A rush of heat floods through you, your arousal evident as you feel the slick warmth between your legs, undoubtedly coating him.

He opts not to flip the switch, allowing the gentle glow from the kitchen to filter into your bedroom, casting a tantalizing veil of shadows. With a playful yet confident gesture, he tosses you onto the bed, eliciting a spontaneous burst of laughter from you, reminiscent of a lovestruck fool lost in the feelings of her crush.

You’re well aware that catching feelings wasn’t part of the plan, that this was meant to be a fleeting encounter. Yet, as the intensity of the moment swells around you, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to every sensation, every touch, every whispered word shared between you. Despite your best efforts to guard your heart, you can’t help but revel in the dizzying whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, silently acknowledging that you’re utterly captivated by every moment spent in his company.

He lingers above you, a tantalizing pause that leaves anticipation crackling in the air. Then, with a deliberate yet primal grace, he sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands firmly clasping your ankles as he draws you irresistibly closer to the edge.

With a primal hunger, he yanks your scanty dress up to your waist, a guttural growl escaping his lips as his gaze locks onto your shimmering, needy pussy, the raw desire in his eyes igniting a blazing fire within you.

“Fuck. You’re practically a waterfall down there,” he remarks, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips as he surveys your drenched arousal.

You spread your legs invitingly, gazing down your body at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, have a taste,” you challenge, your voice dripping with anticipation.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs and placing them over his shoulders. His mouth descends to your aching core, lips and tongue poised to give you the attention you crave.

His plush tongue meets your clit first, eliciting a frustrated moan from your lips. He sucks with the hunger of a starved man, savoring your taste. Moving down, he uses his fingers to spread your folds, allowing him to dip his tongue inside your throbbing entrance.

You pant, clenching around his probing tongue, every nerve alight with bliss, feeling as though you’ve been transported to heaven.

His tongue licks and laps at your sensitive skin, each stroke sending shivers through your trembling body. The need building inside you is almost unbearable—you crave so much more.

For a moment, his tongue plunges into your cunt, teasing and stimulating your hole. Growing impatient, your hands dart down to grip his blonde locks, fingers clenching tightly as you try to urge him on, desperate for more of his relentless attention.

He seems to get the hint, moving up to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you release a soft scream.

Your body clenches, fingers gripping his hair tighter as a frustrated grunt escapes your lips.

The room fills with slurping noises, driving your mind into a frenzy of pleasure.

Suddenly, his fingers prod at your entrance, and you clench in anticipation. God, you want it—you want his fingers so bad. Honestly, you crave a lot more than just his fingers.

He pushes in one finger at first, and your breath hitches. Your walls clench around the single digit, and it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into his hand and face, desperate for more.

Fuck, how is he so skilled with both his hands and mouth? His suction on your clit is relentless, alternating between perfect suction and expertly flattening his tongue, sending shivers down your spine as he strokes your bundle of nerves from side to side.

As a second finger joins the first in your tight hole, you gasp at the delicious stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and Jimin’s girthy size alone suggests you’ll need ample preparation. Despite already feeling dripping with anticipation, you know the importance of proper preparation to avoid any uncomfortable burns from the stretch.

With a suction-like force around your clit, he sends you reeling, seeing stars with each electrifying sensation. His face withdraws from your pussy, yet his fingers remain firmly embedded within you, a tantalizing promise of what’s to come.

His face gleams with your essence. His eyes, deep as obsidian, flicker with desire, his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he licks them hungrily. “Think you’re ready for a third finger?”

You moan unabashedly as his fingers find that sweet spot within, every touch igniting a cascade of sensations that render you pliant. Biting your lip to stifle the cries of pleasure, you nod eagerly. “Yes,” you pant, your voice a fervent plea, “please, get me ready for your cock.”

A triumphant smirk dances on his lips as he responds with a pleased grunt, effortlessly sliding in a third finger. The stretch is undeniable, prompting you to draw in a deep breath of air to accommodate the delicious fullness. Though there’s no burning sensation, your body pulses with the intensity of your arousal, each sensation amplified by your slickness.

“You like it?” His voice, a sultry whisper, sends shivers down your spine as he inquires, his pace quickening with each determined thrust of his three fingers inside you. Your response is immediate, a chorus of moans escaping your lips in tandem with his relentless motion.

“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the intensity of his touch reverberate through every fiber of your being. Heat pools at your core, beads of sweat glistening along your hairline, as your body surrenders to the overwhelming waves of pleasure washing over you.

“Just wait until I fill you with my cock,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, his eyes smoldering with desire. “I want to see you fall apart on it. God, you’re so pretty,” he adds, his words a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he returns to your pussy, trailing a teasing lick from his fingers buried inside you up to your throbbing clit, igniting a fire of longing within you.

“Fuck, Jimin. Please,” you pant, your voice thick with need. Every nerve in your body aches for his touch, craving the electrifying sensation of his tongue against your skin once more. You can sense the impending arrival of an orgasm, its tantalizing tendrils teasing at the edges of your consciousness, and you yearn for him to push you over the edge, to obliterate every last shred of restraint until you’re consumed by ecstasy.

“Please what?” He taunts again, his tongue teasingly tracing delicate patterns over your throbbing clit. The sensation sends waves of frustration coursing through you, igniting a fierce longing for more of his touch. You can feel the tension building within you, a potent mix of desire and impatience, as you yearn for his tongue to remain there indefinitely, granting you the blissful release you crave.

“Please make me come already!” You pant in exasperation, your fingers digging into the sheets beside your hips, a desperate plea echoing in the heated air between you.

With a shit-eating smirk, he dives back down, his mouth latching onto your clit with aggressive fervor. His relentless licking sends bolts of electricity through your body, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their relentless thrusting inside you, creating a symphony of pleasure that promises to tip you over the brink of ecstasy any moment now.

As his teeth tug at your clit, a surge of electricity shoots through your body, igniting every nerve ending with anticipation. The knot in your stomach tightens with each tantalizing pull, signaling the imminent unraveling of your senses.

“Yes. Fuck. I’m gonna come, Jimin-ah! Fuck, you’re so good,” the words tumble from your lips in a breathless rush, punctuated by the primal rhythm of your panting. Your body thrashes with unrestrained pleasure, every nerve alive with the electric touch of his lips and tongue. In response, Jimin’s hand tightens around your hips, pulling you even further down into his face.

As his tongue presses down on your throbbing clit, his fingers continue their relentless thrusts, driving you wild with their rapid pace. Your muscles tighten involuntarily, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax. It’s right there, teetering on the edge, tantalizingly close as every fiber of your being aches for release.

With your body trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, he withdraws his tongue from your throbbing clit, his face shimmering with your essence. “Do you really think you deserve to come?” His question hangs in the air, a challenge laced with mischief and desire.

Frustration boils within you, your body teetering on the edge of release, craving that sweet release. With a hiss of desperation, you prop yourself up on your arms, determined to meet his gaze. “I’ll be a good girl,” you plead, your voice a whispered promise laden with need. “I’ll behave. Just let me... please, let me come.”

His tongue returns to your throbbing clit with a ferocity that reignites every nerve ending, driving you to the precipice of ecstasy faster than thought itself. Your breath catches in your throat, each ragged moan echoing the crescendo building within you. As your body tenses with anticipation, you feel the inevitable release cresting like a tidal wave, crashing over you in blissful waves. Tremors ripple through your body, held securely in his grasp, as he maintains his relentless assault of pleasure, ensuring your euphoria knows no bounds.

As the waves of ecstasy continue to crash over you, he remains steadfast in his ministrations, guiding you through the tempest of pleasure. Yet, as the intensity peaks, reaching heights almost unbearable, you signal your overwhelming sensation by grasping his hair once more, a silent plea for respite amidst the storm of sensation.

His fingers retreat, and a pang of longing fills the void they leave behind, craving the sensation of being filled with his touch once more. His gaze meets yours, ablaze with desire and urgency, mirroring the yearning that courses through your own veins.

“Was it good?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at you, observing the subtle flush painting your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes,” you pant, your voice husky with desire, feeling thoroughly ravished. Yet, beneath the lingering sensations, anticipation simmers, an eager yearning for him to take you with his cock, to stretch you, to fill you completely with his intoxicating presence.

He comes up to hover over you, his presence intense as he locks eyes with you. “You know what my plan is?” He murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyebrow raises in curiosity, your heart beating a little faster as you wait for his next move, uncertain yet intrigued.

“I want to ruin you so deeply that every touch, every kiss, every moment with another will only remind you of me,” he whispers huskily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your body responds to his words, your pussy clenching around emptiness at his crude words.

“You’ve already achieved that, Jimin. No other man could ever measure up to the fire you ignite within me,” you confess, your voice laden with desire and admiration, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.

Your gaze, undoubtedly dazed and intoxicated with lust, fixes on him with an urgency that speaks volumes. “Jimin,” you implore, your fingers grasping at his arms, “I need you inside me. Right now. Please fuck me.”

He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes as he bites his lip in contemplation. “Fuck,” he breathes, desire smoldering in his gaze. “I want to fuck you. Badly. But I don’t have condoms. Do you or are you okay without that?”

You hold his gaze, your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you. “I don’t have any condoms either,” you admit, your eyes searching his for reassurance. “But I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?” Your breath steadies, anticipation threading through your words.

His voice carries a confident assurance, yet there’s a vulnerability in his eyes as he meets yours. “Yeah, I’m clean,” he confirms, his tone firm, but tinged with a hint of vulnerability, as if silently seeking your trust.

“Then fuck me already,” you say, a bashful smile playing on your lips, your eyes locked with his, daring him to make the next move.

Jimin sits up, shedding his harness like shedding inhibitions, unbuttoning his white shirt with a flourish and tossing it carelessly to the floor. Now completely naked, he embodies the essence of a god, his presence both captivating and dangerous. Every line of his form speaks of strength and sin, his lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light.

His touch ignites a trail of electricity along your skin as his fingers trace the curve of your sides. With a swift motion, he seizes the fabric of your dress, lifting it over your face, and then, in one fluid movement, he strips it away, revealing your body completely to his hungry gaze.

“No bra?”

With a mischievous chuckle, you shoot him a playful wink, a silent invitation dancing in your eyes.

“You really are a wicked little thing. Were you planning to seduce someone tonight?” His smirk deepens as his gaze lingers on your exposed breasts. His hands, cool against your skin, find their way to your chest, cupping them firmly, coaxing your nipples into stiff peaks within seconds.

He chuckles, his fingers dancing lightly over your skin, teasing and tempting you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as anticipation courses through your veins.

“No, I just revel in the freedom of my body. Restrictions aren’t my thing. Encountering you, though, was a delightful surprise,” you chuckle, feeling his fingertips tracing patterns over your nipples, each touch sending delicious shivers cascading down your spine.

His fingers encircle both of your nipples, pinching them just so, and your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as you pant for breath.

He guides you further up the bed, positioning your entire body for his pleasure. As he settles between your legs, his fingertips dance along your thighs, each touch sending electric waves of anticipation through your body, leaving you trembling in anticipation.

His voice, a low rumble, breaks through the charged air, his eyes seeking confirmation before he delves deeper into the intimacy between you two. “Are you ready?” He inquires, his gaze locking with yours, seeking not just consent, but a shared desire to plunge into the depths of pleasure together.

You respond with an urgent plea, your voice laden with need as you offer yourself fully to him. “Yes. Put your dick in me now,” you moan, your legs parting eagerly, beckoning him to claim you as your desire ignites the air around you.

With an air of command, he positions you, pulling your thighs onto his sides, his posture exuding dominance. As he rises to a sitting position, his dick completely hard again, standing tall and unyielding, eager to claim you once.

“You’re so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs, his hand finding his cock, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest.

“Fuck me, please,” you rasp, the urgency in your voice palpable. Begging isn’t your usual style, but right now, you can’t help it. You need him inside you, filling every inch of you. 

As he aligns his dick with your eager entrance, a primal urgency fills the air. The anticipation builds with each teasing prod against your folds, a delicious tension mounting between you. With a low grunt, he starts to push into you, a slow and deliberate motion that sets your senses ablaze, every inch of him awakening a craving you never knew existed.

“Fucking hell, you are tight!” He pants, the raw intensity of his voice echoing the primal desire between you. With a slick ease, he slides inside, your wetness enveloping him like a long-awaited embrace, each inch stirring a tempest of pleasure that threatens to consume you both.

“Fuck. You’re so thick! It feels so good,” you moan, your voice a symphony of desire as he fills you completely. With him buried deep within, he pauses, his gaze intense and heated, a testament to the raw hunger pulsating between you, his sweat-slicked skin glistening in the dim light.

The way he stretches you is nothing short of incredible, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. Your hands grasp onto his arms, seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of pleasure, forging a connection to him as he pushes you to the brink of ecstasy.

Then, he begins to move, drawing out slowly only to thrust back in with an irresistible force. Your gasp of pleasure is swallowed by the room as he establishes a rapid rhythm, plunging into you with a relentless urgency.

The bed jolts against the wall, the sound echoing through the room, and you know your neighbors will hear, but you couldn’t care less. You’re being thoroughly ravished, lost in the primal intensity of it all. The sheer ecstasy of the moment eclipses any concern for discretion.

He presses his weight into you, drawing you closer in an embrace that feels almost possessive. In a sudden rush of intimacy, he leans down to meet your lips, igniting a fiery kiss that seems to consume you both. As his body melds with yours, his every movement synchronized with the rhythmic pulse of his thrusts, you feel an electric connection unlike anything you've experienced before.

With tantalizing slowness, he trails kisses along your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. His lips wander to your jawline, peppering it with delicate kisses before descending to the curve of your throat. There, he lingers, his mouth exploring every inch, igniting a primal desire that courses through your veins. Gradually, he moves downward, his lips now caressing your breasts with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.

His tongue dances sensually around your hardened nipple, sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. As his skilled hand teases and strokes the other, you arch into his touch, a symphony of sensations unraveling within you. With each gentle suck, you find yourself uttering his name in a breathless plea, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

The sensation is intoxicating, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and desire that threatens to consume every inch of your being.

His closeness envelops you, his intoxicating scent mingling with yours, creating an intoxicating blend of desire. With each meeting of your hips, his warmth and the firmness of his cock hitting your sweet spot send ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting yet another primal moan from your lips.

“Jimin!” You moan, your hands instinctively flying up to his hair, fingers entwining in the soft strands as he devours your nipple, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, igniting a dazzling array of stars behind your closed eyelids.

He hums and chuckles around your breasts, the vibrations sending delightful shivers down your spine, his enjoyment evident in the way he savors every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

Then, he shifts his mouth over to the other nipple, the suction intense and demanding, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body. Simultaneously, his hand finds the other nipple, tugging at it with a tantalizing mix of firmness and gentleness.

His thrusts are relentless, driving deep into you with an intensity that leaves you reeling, each plunge sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s so overwhelming, you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

With a soft pop, Jimin releases your nipple, his lips trailing a path of fire as he moves back up to your neck, planting gentle kisses that send shivers down your spine. 

You pull him tighter into your embrace, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you confess, “Shit. I’m so close.” The urgency in your voice mirrors the pounding of your heart, each beat echoing the relentless rhythm of your desire.

His voice, thick with desire, resonates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he urges, “Come on my cock. I wanna feel you more.”

The raw, primal tone of his words sends a jolt of electricity through you, stirring an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. Every filthy utterance from his lips molds your insides like soft clay, leaving you trembling with an insatiable hunger for more.

His touch ignites a wildfire of sensation, each pinch and twist of your hardened peaks sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body again. You surrender to the delicious torment, your back arching instinctively as uninhibited moans escape your lips, a symphony of desire echoing through the room.

“Cream my dick, I know you can do it,” his words, a potent blend of desire and command, fuel your fervor even more. With each authoritative utterance, your need intensifies, the primal rhythm of his thrusts, his cock hitting heavenly places inside. His voice, a dark symphony of dominance, stirs something primal within you, urging you to surrender completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

With a tantalizing flick of his fingers as he pinches your nipple again, igniting a rush of sensation through your body, and a thrust that delves deeper than before, your senses blur, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of pleasure. As his dick plunges into you, reaching depths that send shockwaves of ecstasy through your core, you’re transported to the brink of euphoria. On the tender spot of your neck, he sucks a hickey there. With a primal cry that echoes through the room, you surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, releasing your essence onto his throbbing cock.

When your walls tighten around him, a low growl of pleasure escapes his lips, punctuating the intensity of the moment. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he gasps, his voice laced with ecstasy. As the pressure builds within him, he can feel the impending release drawing near. “I’m gonna come soon too,” he confesses, the urgency in his tone mirroring the electric tension between you.

You pant, your chest heaving as you slowly descend from the peak of your ecstasy. Every breath feels like a blessing, leaving you in a state of serene satisfaction. Jimin’s touch has shifted, his fingers tracing gentle paths along your sides, while his hips move against yours with a newfound tenderness, each roll diving into you in a more sensual manner.

His thrusts delve even deeper, each movement driving him to the core of your being, sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your body. The rhythmic collision of his hips against yours, accompanied by the tantalizing impact of his balls against your pussy, ignites a fire within you, consuming you with an insatiable hunger for more.

He hisses, a primal sound escaping his lips, as you feel the telltale twitch of his cock deep inside you, signaling his imminent release. His breath quickens, each exhale a symphony of urgency, while his once graceful movements give way to a primal frenzy. With a feverish intensity, he plunges into you, each thrust a fervent pursuit of his climax.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, a symphony of pleasure and need in your voice, struggling to maintain your composure as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a wildfire of sensation within you. Despite the intensity, or perhaps because of it, you find yourself surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, relishing every moment of his powerful onslaught.

“Shit. I’m losing control. I—, I can’t,” he begins to mumble, his voice strained with an unexpected vulnerability, and you observe a fleeting, pained expression flicker across his face. 

You reach out for him, your hands cradling his face with a tender urgency. “Don’t be afraid,” you murmur, your voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of sensations. “Just let go. Come inside me and fill me up,” you whisper, your words a gentle invitation laced with a primal hunger that echoes the rhythm of your entwined bodies.

His gaze darkens, a tempest swirling in those depths, as if wrestling with unseen forces. With a guttural grunt, he appears on the verge of surrender, yet something holds him back, an inner conflict etched across his features like a turbulent battle playing out before your eyes.

With a few final, desperate thrusts, he succumbs, his release flooding into your welcoming depths, a primal grunt escaping his lips as he fills you with his heated essence, a potent mixture of ecstasy and raw desire intertwining in the heat of the moment.

Ecstasy floods your senses as you revel in the sensation of being completely filled, every nerve ending electrified with pleasure. Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the intense ecstasy coursing through your veins.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” his voice, filled with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, pants out an apology, his breaths ragged and heavy. It’s a symphony of emotions, the frustration of losing control mingling with the sheer bliss of the moment.

Confused by his apology, you chuckle softly, your hands finding solace in tracing patterns on his back, a silent reassurance amidst the continued rhythm of his movements within you. 

His lips tenderly graze your neck, igniting a playful giggle within you. As his affection turns fervent, you relish in the sensation of him marking you, a primal instinct you love. Yet, the playful nip lingers longer, teeth sinking deeper than expected, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Your moans escalate, desire fueling your body’s response. But as the dizziness sets in and the need for air becomes desperate, a chilling realization dawns upon you—something is wrong.

Your eyelids flutter shut, a shiver racing down your spine as an icy chill envelops you, sapping away your energy. In the eerie silence that follows, darkness descends, swallowing you whole.

Someone shakes you gently, and you recognize Jimin’s touch. A warm, sticky sensation trails down your neck. Blood? The throb in your neck intensifies, a soreness radiating from the spot. Did he bite you so hard that you passed out?

“Y/N, oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His voice trembles with distress and worry as he gazes down at you, his eyes wide with panic.

“Why?” You ask, your voice slurred and heavy with exhaustion. Every word feels like an effort, and you’re overwhelmed by a bone-deep fatigue.

“I’m— I couldn’t stop,” he sobs, his voice cracking with guilt. You’re utterly baffled, trying to piece together what just happened.

“I should have told you sooner,” he mumbles, tears glistening in his eyes and his lips trembling. He looks like a completely different person from the confident man you met in Magic Shop.

“What’s wrong?” you groan in pain, attempting to move your body, but it refuses to cooperate, leaving you feeling heavy and unresponsive.

“I’m a vampire…” he confesses, his eyes lingering on your naked body, the sight of blood trickling from your neck and staining the white sheets.

“What?” Your eyes snap open, awareness flooding back as you see his tear-streaked face. Your heart aches at the sight, and you instinctively reach out, gently brushing away one of his tears.

“It’s okay. I had a feeling,” you murmur, doing your best to reassure him. When his tear-filled eyes meet yours again, you give him a soft, comforting smile.

“I think I drank too much from you. I’m so sorry. I should have asked,” he stammers, his voice heavy with shame. His eyes drop to the floor, reflecting his internal struggle. You can tell he takes immense pride in his self-control, and losing it tonight is tearing him apart.

“Jimin, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you reassure him, masking your own weakness as you attempt to sit up, your arms trembling slightly beneath you.

“It’s not fine. You passed out,” he grumbles, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, his lips forming a subtle pout.

"Oh. I did?" you ask, a flicker of confusion crossing your face as you piece together the fragments of your memory.

You take your hand up to your neck, fingers trembling slightly as they brush over the tender skin. Examining your palm, you find it smeared with a trace of blood, a stark reminder of the unexpected turn the night has taken. It’s not much though, and you guess the bleeding has almost stopped.

You reach out for him once more, closing the distance between you with a sudden, passionate kiss. The intensity of your embrace catches him off guard, his eyes widening in surprise, his lips yielding to the unexpected fervor of your touch.

When you draw back, your gaze locks onto his, unwavering and filled with a mix of emotions. “It’s still the best and most unforgettable one-night stand ever,” you declare, your words carrying a weight of sincerity and a hint of lingering desire.

He offers you a small smile that swiftly morphs into a mischievous smirk, as if he’s silently challenging you to another round.

“You know, I’m all for making this a regular thing, if you’re up for it. I mean, I don’t mind a little bite here and there. Maybe not to the point of blacking out, but everything before that? Damn, it was fucking hot,” you suggest with a playful wink, your sultry gaze locked with his, a subtle invitation lingering in the air as you moisten your lips.

An exasperated groan escapes him, his fangs emerging, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You extend your hand, tracing his full lips before daringly brushing your fingertips over his sharp fangs, a mixture of curiosity and arousal coursing through you.

Your gaze drifts downwards, finding his glistening dick coated in a mixture of your essence and his, standing proudly. With a seductive nibble on your lower lip, you reach out, your hand finding his throbbing cock, stroking it with deliberate intent, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as pleasure courses through his body.

Teasingly, you inquire, “Ready to go for another round already? Got some superhuman stamina hidden in there?” Your jest is accompanied by an increase in pace, your hand working with newfound fervor, eliciting gasps of pleasure from him as his body responds eagerly to your touch.

In between gasps and needy pants, he admits, “Something like that.” 

His voice, dripping with desire, sends shivers down your spine. “I’m ready for more. And you... do you really want this to be a regular thing?” His words punctuate each stroke, his pleasure palpable as he speaks. 

“I’ve never found anyone who could keep up with me and my needs like this,” he confesses, his eyes closing intermittently in pure ecstasy.

“Yes, Jimin, me too,” you breathe, your voice husky with desire. “I feel like I’ve finally met my equal. You satisfy me in ways no one ever has. Please.” Your words, a soft plea, dance across his ear, sending shivers down his spine. As you feel him quivering beneath your touch, you know this connection is something truly special.

“Let me ride you,” you suggest with a sultry smile, but you’re not one to wait for permission. With a swift movement, you push him down onto the bed, eliciting a hiss of surprise followed by a deep, rumbling laugh from him. It’s a playful exchange, full of anticipation and eagerness for what’s to come.

“Fuck, I think I might be in love,” he groans, his words punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as you straddle him, aligning yourself with his throbbing cock. With a slow, deliberate movement, you sink down onto him, relishing in the now familiar, exquisite stretch that never fails to send shivers of pleasure down your spine, something you’ll never tire off.

[luvfy0dor]

RRRRAAAAAH i’m so insane abt dad fyodor i’m!!!!! imagine him helping the kid with schoolwork and attending parent meetings i’m so? feel free to decline! <3

“Multiplication Sucks ♡” - Dad!Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None!

Description; Fyodor helping his daughter with her homework assignment, I'm so sorry it's so short : [ I tried writing a scenario for a parent teacher meeting but I kept scrapping my ideas, ill do a part two at some point i promise!

A/n; I LOVE THAT WE ALL LOVE DAD FYODOR SM DJSJEJS THANK YOU DAD!FYODOR ANON FOR BLESSING US WITH THIS WE LOVE YOU 💜 ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT ANON AHHH 💔

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

• Fyodor is the type of dad to let his kid waste no time when it comes to homework. He wants them to get it done the very night it's assigned so they can relax afterwards and not gain the habit of procrastinating.

• You will catch him walking your kid step by step through their homework. He's not the type of parent to yell out of frustration, especially not over his kids homework.

• He can help the child with most subjects, but he's especially good at math and therefore some sciences. He's good with history, too.

• At one-on-one parent teacher meetings, he already knows what to expect. He knows his kid is well behaved, he raised them well mannered and respectful. He also knows that his kid is smart and does well on their assignments, they get it from their papa.

ೃ⁀➷

(As always, d/n is daughters name, p/t is parental title)

You sat on the couch with Fyodor, leaning on his shoulder while you watched a movie. He seemed relatively intrigued while he chewed on his fingernails. His hair was messily pulled back, his bangs falling through the grip of the ponytail holder and back into his face. His free arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your daughter was being relatively quiet, you couldn't really hear her footsteps going back and forth around her bedroom like you usually could. All of a sudden though, you could hear some frustrated groans. Fyodor definitely heard it too, turning his head to look at you. After a second he got up from the couch and walked towards d/n's room.

He knocked on your daughter's door lightly, opening it upon hearing a soft "come in". He walked into her bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the young girl slouched over at her desk with a pencil in hand. He tilts his head and notices the sheet of paper in front of her, half finished with lots of scribbled out things.

"What's wrong, Malyshka?" He asks, reaching out and rubbing her back in consolation. The young girl sits up with a pout, her lip quivering a bit. "Multiplying is stupid!" She says sadly, placing her pencil down gently and crossing her arms. Fyodor picks up and examines the paper, humming as he reads over the simple and basic multiplication problems. "Well, I can help you. There's no need to cry over it." He says, petting her head gently and putting the paper back down. "Is it this one that's troubling you?" He asks, pointing to one of the problems with the pencil. She nods, sniffling.

"16 x 2..." He hums for a moment, thinking of a way to explain this to her. "If you can do 6 x 2 and 10 x 2, all you have to do is add them together." He says, handing the pencil to her. "You're a smart girl, I know you can do it." He says, remaining at her side while she uses the strategy he provided her. Her tongue slightly pokes from the corner of her lips as she comes to her conclusion of 32 after a couple of seconds.

"Is that right, papa?" D/n asks, looking up at Fyodor for approval. "Yes, you did a good job." He praises her with a proud smile, patting her head. She nods and moves onto the next question, and before she knows it, she's done! Fyodor was happy that she didn't give up and powered through, finally starting to grasp the concept. All she needed was a little more help, the help that her father was right there to give her.

A/n; AHHHH I love dad Fyodor sm like imagine him going to father-daughter dances omg I die

[7ndipity]

Take Care

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon tries to remind you that looking after yourself is just as important as looking after you partner

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: slight angst, swearing, mentions of illness and medications, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I got a little stuck, so it might be a bit eh, but I hope you’ll still like it!💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Just please make sure to look after yourself.” That was one of the top five things that Namjoon said the most to you, second only to “I love you”. It might’ve made him sound a bit like an over concerned parent sometimes, but you didn’t mind, knowing he meant well.

He had always worried about you, even before you got together, and with the past few hectic weeks of work, his concern had only worsened, but you had tried to assure him that you were doing alright and managing fine, which wasn’t entirely true, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need to know about the long hours and sleepless nights to keep up with the deadlines that were rapidly creeping up on you.

Your eye twitched with fatigue as you scanned through your notes for the nith time, casting a quick glance at the clock before saving and closing your laptop, trying to push down the faint uneasy, sinking feeling in your gut, and focusing on getting ready for your evening out with Joon.

He had asked a few weeks ago if you wanted to come with him to a special art exhibition featuring one of his favorite artists, which you had readily agreed to, although currently, the idea of spending multiple hours wandering around a gallery didn’t sound ideal, but you couldn’t imagine canceling on him, knowing how much he loved getting to share his interests with you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your look when you heard him knock, smiling massively when you opened the door.

“Hi.” He said, kissing your cheek. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, you look pretty spiffy yourself.” You teased, turning to grab your bag, pausing slightly as you were hit with a small wave of dizziness.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” You assured quickly, flashing him a quick grin, but he still frowned slightly, unconvinced.

“If you’re not feeling well, we don’t have to go-”

“No, I want to.” You interjected, stopping him. “You’ve been looking forward to this, I want to go.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but he let it slide for the moment.

The majority of the night passed smoothly, you talked and laughed with his friends, earning more a few proud smiles from him, though you also noticed him periodically watching you with a cautious eye, making sure you were okay.

You’d begun to feel increasingly unwell at various points through the evening, but you’d managed to keep a calm facade for the most part, not wanting to spoil you and Joon’s evening, until you were suddenly hit with another wave of dizziness, causing your steps to falter.

You instinctively reached out for Namjoon, catching hold of his arm for support as you tried to steady yourself.

Joon immediately glanced down at you in concern, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you.

“Are you alright?!” He asked, eyeing you anxiously.

“yeah, I just feel dizzy.” You said weakly.

He instantly went into protective caregiver mode, carefully guiding you over to an empty bench in the corner of the room, bringing you some water, and feeling your forehead for any sign of fever while going through the usual list of questions.

“Did you eat today?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you take your meds?”

“I-” You tried to think back through your day, but everything was a frenzied blur of work and getting ready to go out. “I might’ve forgotten it.”

“You might have forgotten?!” He asked sharply.

“I don’t know, Joon, I was busy! What does it matter?!” You snapped, not in the mood to be scolded by him.

“It matters if you get sick!” He said sternly, carefully pulling you up from your seat. “C’mon, we’re going home.”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to rest for a few minutes.” You tried to pull away from him, but the sudden movement caused another bout of dizziness to hit you, coupled this time with a touch of nausea that had you sinking back into your seat.

As soon as he saw your face lose color, every ounce of anger and frustration in his body disappeared, replaced only with worry for you.

“You’re not fine!” He said seriously. “We’re going home.”

You didn’t bother trying to argue with him anymore, feeling increasingly lightheaded and woozy, wanting nothing more in that moment than to just lay down.

Joon barely spoke on the way home, a growing sense of guilt brewing on your stomach as you watched him, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he drove.

“Joon-” You started, but he was quick to stop you.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay? Right now, I just want you to rest.”

As soon as you got home, he carried you to bed, helping you change and making sure you took your medications before finally sinking into the bed, falling into a dreamless sleep almost immediately.

Joon however barely slept, waking every couple of hours throughout the night to make sure you were alright. Eventually, he gave up on sleep entirely, watching over you while you slept instead.

You looked so fragile to him like this, his mind couldn’t help wandering back to your earlier comments. How much had you been neglecting yourself recently? Were you eating properly? He knew you hadn’t been sleeping well.

Maybe he was overreacting and it was just a one off event, but it was still more than enough to scare him. He was well aware how hectic things had been lately, but he had hoped they weren’t taking such a harsh toll on you like this.

When you woke the next morning, your eyes immediately landed on his half sleeping form propped up next to you in the bed.

“Joon?” You croaked, your voice small and ragged from sleep, snapping him to attention.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked softly, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“ ‘m okay, tired.” You replied.

“That’s alright.” He smiled. “Are you hungry? I can order food. I thought about trying to cook, but I figured that might not be the best idea.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You replied with a grin, glancing around sleepily. “What time is it?” The light streaming in through the curtains indicated that it was well past your normal wake up time.

“About ten.”

“What?” You gasped, scrambling to sit up, the sudden movement causing your head to spin again.

“Careful!” He said gently, pushing you back down into the bed. “Everything’s alright. You just need to take it easy and rest.”

“I can’t, I’ve got a deadline!” You tried to sit up again, but he pressed you back down firmly. My boss is probably wondering where the hell I-”

“I already texted your manager and told them you were sick and wouldn’t be in today.” He said matter of factly.

You gaped at him. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you need to rest.” He said, pulling you into him. “They’ll be fine, everything won't fall apart just because you took a day. You need to take time to look after yourself too, you know?”

You looked down, avoiding his eyes, the guilt from the night before bubbling back to the surface.

“I know, I just…I didn’t wanna ruin your night.” You sniffed, trying to fight back the frustrated tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t know, I’m sorry I upset you.”

He pulled you closer. “The only thing I’m upset about is how hard you’ve been pushing yourself. I know things have been tough, but I don't want you to hide from me. And I don’t want you putting everyone else ahead of you. You are far too important to ever neglect, you hear me?”

You nodded, letting Namjoon wipe away the few stray tears that slipped down your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to get so caught up, it just kinda snowballed.”

“I know, I’ve done the same thing.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “But do you remember what you did last time it happened?”

You scoffed. “Basically kidnapped you for the weekend?”

“Yep,” He grinned. “So, consider this my payback.”

Joon helped you get settled back under the covers, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Thank you Joonie.” You mumbled.

“Always.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Get some rest, Sweetheart.”

You fell back to sleep in his arms, feeling safe and at peace for the first time in weeks.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[bones4thecats]

Hi can I get a seperate scenario request where Cooler, Cell, and Whis have to help Fem reader with their sprained ankle, because they fell down the stairwell on accident. And F! reader just kinda looking around not knowing if she'd just broken a bone or not. (Note: Based on irl experiences, I just had something like this the 2nd time 😭)

Hope you have a good night by the way 💜

When Their Fem/GN! S/O Sprains Ankle

Characters: Cooler, Cell, and Whis Requester: @silkyshulks A/N: Holy crap, you sprained your ankle twice? That must be tough. I swear that I stub my toe or hit my head everyday, pretty sure I'm one more table-to-forehead thump away from brain damage, lmao. Anyways, hope you get healed up from your sprain and enjoy this! By the way, the Reader has no gender mentions in this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Spraining your ankle, maybe? ⚠️

Disclaimer: I have five requests left, let's hope I can get them done!

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cooler ════════════════════════════════╝

🧊 You looked at Cooler and smiled. It wasn't a smile full of love, no this was one that you put up to make the other members of the Force feel freaked out

🧊 It was when you started going down the stars that you slipped and fell, causing you to hurt your ankle, but, as you were used to pain much worse than this, you looked around and up at Cooler, whom was panicking, wondering if you had broken anything

🧊 When he brought you to the ship's doctor, he was beyond angry that you had sprained the area between your foot and calf. He wasn't angry at you, he was angry at himself for allowing this to happen

🧊 The doctor handed you a medical note of everything you needed to do for the injury to heal; mainly just some rest, an ice-pack being placed on it from time-to-time, giving it a wrap of sorts to keep it from getting worse from moving, and getting it raised above your heart's level while resting

🧊 Cooler sighed as you shifted in your bed, not being used to having your ankle raised so highly. He grabbed a nearby ice-pack and placed it on your ankle, causing you to suck in a deep breath quickly before scoffing and looking away from your lover

"You don't have to be ashamed. Injuries happen to the best of us."

"Coming from the guy who didn't sprain their ankle in front of their lover and multiple members of the Frieza Force then having to keep it up despite having dealt with worse injuries than this."

"Are you done with your little tangent?"

🧊 He tries to stay around you as much as possible to make sure your injury would heal as quick and perfectly as possible. While he cannot always be there, due to some issues within the Force, he makes up for it all by sitting beside you with his head on your chest for you to slide your hands on while trying to cure your boredom

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cell ═════════════════════════════════╝

🔬 This world that you both lived in was utter chaos. So getting injuries wasn't something to out of the ordinary for anyone, but for you? It was completely new

🔬 Cell always made sure that you stayed safe, keeping you from falling and injuring yourself multiple times. Hell, one time he was fighting someone and dashed to keep you safe from a boulder crushing you!

🔬 This time, he hadn't noticed you got injured because he wasn't there

🔬 Cell had gone out to deal with some humans and came back to find you wrapping your ankle and putting some ice on it, flinching and trying to keep yourself calm despite the obvious pain from the injury

🔬 You were shocked to see Cell kneel in front of you with a darkening expression, and you knew what he was going to ask you

"Who did this to you?"

"Nobody, Dear. I just fell down the stairs on accident and ended up spraining my ankle. It should be healed in about a week at most."

"Are you sure nobody harmed you?"

"Yes, Cell. I'm sure."

🔬 After that, he stayed by your side 24/7. You never suspected that the Bio-Android could be so clingy before this, but here you were, having him on his hands and knees for you

🔬 He always replaces your ice-pack, making sure there were always two. One being frozen while the other you could use so you didn't have to wait on some compression being added to your injury

🔬 Cell also may or may not have almost destroyed your stairs after the incident...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Whis ═════════════════════════════════╝

😇 Whis values your health above all else. He knows that you're more susceptible to getting sick than him, so he always kept up-to-date with your symptoms, making sure you couldn't get to ill

😇 But this was an injury that he did not expect to happen

😇 Beerus and Whis had finally gotten to go to Earth after destroying a few planets about 7 galaxies away, and Whis was happy to get to finally see you again after nearly four weeks worth of destruction and traveling with Universe 7's God of Destruction

😇 He made his way to you door was confused why you didn't come right to the door when he gave the special knock you both made to let each other know it was you. So, after three tries, he opened the door was began looking around for you

"Y/N? Where are you?"

"I'm-uh, I'm over here, Whis."

"Oh my."

😇 You sat on the bottom stair of your home, your face had some light scuffing on it while your ankle's slight movements caused you to shiver and groan in pain under your breath

😇 Whis kneeled in front of you and laid his staff nearby your head, just within your grasp. He then picked up your leg lightly, draping the back of your knee over his thigh as he rolled up your pant leg to see your ankle

😇 He saw how your skin darkened at the marking around your ankle. It looked much like a bruise, but he had treated enough injuries dealt by Beerus and Goku to know that this was a sprain and not just a horribly-placed bruise

"Don't worry, love. I can get this fixed up in a mere second!"

😇 Motioning for his staff, you reached to your side and handed him it, to which he thanked you and laid your ankle back down on the ground, making sure your leg was laying straight and not bent from your knee

😇 He then allowed his staff to glow before he tapped it right above your injury, which caused it to slightly ache in pain before it went away. He had healed it in a mere couple seconds!

😇 Whis reached out for you, to which you grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled yourself back onto your feet. While your ankle did slightly pound from the pain, it wasn't as bad as before

"While it may look healed, you may want to put some ice on it and wrap it up if the pain gets worse, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks, Whis."

"No problem, after all, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let my S/O just writhe around in pain?"

[dixons-sunshine]

no thoughts just carol comforting you with a hug and her soft voice

It’s Alright, I Got You | Carol Peletier x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Carol found you after days of tracking down the man that had kidnapped you, she found you shaken up and worse for wear. There was nothing she could do to help you at that moment except offer you her comfort—and plan the perpetrator’s demise.

Warnings: Injuries, blood, non-descriptive mentions of SA.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: Yes. Just yes. She’d give the best hugs ever. This was supposed to be fluffy but it took a more angsty route. I hope you like it nonetheless, my love 💜.

(GIF isn’t mine.)

“Carol...”

Your weak, trembling voice reached the Peletier woman’s ears. Carol’s heart shattered at the heartbreaking sound, and broke even more at the sight that beheld her when she finally managed to get to you; your eyes were bloodshot from crying, your clothes were hanging on by a mere thread, multiple deep cuts and bruises littered your body, and your wrists were raw from the ropes that were bounding you to the chair that psychopath had forced you into.

Carol sincerely hoped that Daryl hadn’t killed the bastard, because she wanted to do so herself. Nobody was allowed to hurt you in such a way and get away with it. Not on her watch.

Carol rushed towards you, dropping her bow in the process, but she didn’t even realize. Her only concern at that moment was you. She had to get you out of those ropes and out of that godforsaken warehouse you had been stuck in for days at that point in time. She had to get you to safety. That was her main priority.

The sound of your pained whimpers as she removed the ropes that were tightly bound around your wrists had tears welling up in her eyes. “I know it hurts. I’m so sorry,” she whispered apologetically, swallowing at the lump that had formed in her throat. After your wrists were untied, she crouched and made quick work of removing the binds around your legs. Once removed, she stood back up and moved to help you up.

You accepted her help with zero protest. You were just too tired to even attempt to keep up your strong facade. However, your legs buckled under your weight, and you tumbled to the ground.

Carol quickly caught you and slowly lowered you to the ground, cleverly noting that you would not be able to stand at all, and she wasn’t strong enough to carry you. You’d have to wait for Daryl. However, she would not leave your side. She’d stay by your side for days to ensure your safety.

You broke down into tears. Your sobs reverberated throughout the empty room. Carol gently and carefully wrapped her arms around you, bringing you into her chest. She placed a soft, tender kiss on top of your head, slowly rocking you from side to side. “It’s alright, I got you,” she told you softly, blinking away the tears that fell from her eyes at witnessing the state you’re in. “You’re okay. I got you. I got you.”

Your sobs didn’t let up. If anything, they only worsened. Hearing Carol’s voice after days of being trapped and submitted to torture seemed like the first ray of warm sunshine after a harsh, cold winter. However, your mind was plagued by the horrifying actions that had been done to you, and that overpowered the relief you felt.

“He—he assau—” you tried to tell explain to her through your heart wrenching sobs, but to no avail. Even just thinking of what that horrible man had done to you made you want to curl up into a ball and cry until you couldn’t anymore.

You didn’t need to finish your sentence for Carol to understand. She understood what you were trying to say clearly, and it was enough to make her mind go into a murderous rage. If she hadn’t wanted to kill that bastard before, she definitely did after your admission. That man would not live to see another day. She’d make sure of it.

She tightened her arms around you in the hopes of bringing you some comfort. What could she possibly say or do to make you feel better? What had happened to you was beyond awful. There was nothing she could say. All she could do was offer you her support. She just prayed that it was enough.

“Shh, don’t talk. It’s okay,” she told you reassuringly. “He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise. I won’t let him.”

You nodded and buried your face deeper into her shirt, your tears staining the fabric, but she didn’t mind. She gently rubbed your back and placed another kiss to the top of your head. Yeah, there was no changing her mind. That asshole was going to meet a cruel, agonizing end.

The door to the room the two of you were in opened, and you tensed up. However, Carol shushed you and rubbed your back reassuringly. “It’s okay. It’s just Daryl.”

You hesitantly looked up, and you locked eyes with the crossbow-wielding archer. His cerulean blue eyes trailed over your face and body with a frown on his face, concern etched deeply onto his features. Daryl was one of your best friends. He would kill for you.

Similar to Carol, Daryl came to a conclusion; that man was going to die.

“Where’s he?” Carol asked him, her brows furrowed together in a deep frown.

“Bastard’s tied up and in the trunk’a Aaron’s car. He ain’t gettin’ loose anytime soon.”

Carol nodded and shifted her attention back to you. Your sobs had quieted down considerably, probably due to the fact that you didn’t want to cry in front of Daryl. “Daryl’s gonna need to pick you up. Is that okay?” she asked you in a gentle voice. You tensed at the thought, but slowly and hesitantly nodded, making the Peletier woman smile sadly. Never before had you had any problems with being carried by Daryl. The man had even given you piggy back rides before. This hesitance only further confirmed what had happened to you, angering her further, but she kept that anger at bay for the time being.

Daryl moved forward and crouched down in front of you, carefully picking you up. He instantly noticed how tense you were. “S’alright. S’jus’ me. I ain’t gon’ hurt ya, I promise.” When you nodded, he shared a look with Carol—who had stood up from her position on the ground—before determinedly walking out of the building and towards the vehicles, Carol hot on his tail.

The two of them made quick work of placing you into the truck where Siddiq was so that he could check you over as best he could until everyone was back in Alexandria. Carol gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze, a silent acknowledgement of your bravery for complying without any protest, even if you were shaken up and untrusting of men at that point, before walking off and beckoning Daryl over for a private conversation.

“You got all the information you needed from him?” she asked him, cutting straight to the chase.

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. Asshole ain’t spillin’ the beans. Gon’ need to take more drastic measures.”

“Leave that up to me.”

The tone the Peletier woman was downright terrifying, and it sent shivers up the archer’s spine. “What are ya gon’ do to him?”

Carol glanced back towards you, towards the sight of the broken shell of the bright, bubbly person you used to be. She was usually a rational person, and she always tried to think of other solutions before resorting to the worst, but she couldn’t at that moment. She only had one thing on her mind. She turned back towards Daryl. Her eyes held a determined fire beyond the irises, and when she spoke again, her voice was cold, unforgiving.

“I’m gonna make him pay for what he did to her.”

[applejuicefruit]

hey beauty how are you?💜

i have an idea on my mind so hear me out😏

Reader and Neymar been dating for a while but one day she finds he cheated on her multiple times during their relationship so she broke up with him but one day she finds out also that she’s pregnant and she never told him because when they broke up she moved away but one day they meet each other again and she’s with the kid you can decide how to end it 💓💓

Thank you for requesting this I had so much fun writing it ❤️

This is pure angst I’m sorry!

Reader’s being a bitch but honestly who could blame her?

Consequences

5 years ago

You had the perfect life.

You had your dream job.

You had a wonderful house.

You had a lot of friends.

And most importantly, you had the man of your life by your side.

You were dating the super famous football player Neymar.

Your life was perfect or so you thought.

Neymar was a party man. He loved to party and to get drunk. It was like part of his DNA.

You, on the other hand hated to party. You hated loud music and big crowds but somehow you managed to be the perfect couple.

Until one night he was at some friend’s party and you were home, feeling sick and nauseous but you had no clue why, a friend of you sent you a picture that you wished you’d never seen. It was Neymar making out with a woman. She looked like a model. She was tall, thin and blonde. Basically your opposite.

Your friends texted you when they saw the picture because it went viral in basically zero minutes. But it wasn’t all. Neymar did the same thing with an other woman, this time she had short brown hair, still a model tho.

And both of pictures were from the same night.

You started doubting your relationship was perfect. You started asking yourself if this was the only time he did it or if he’s been cheating on you for months.

Your heart broke at the sight of those pictures and you couldn’t believe that Neymar would ever cheat on you. Not when a month ago proposed you. Not when now you were wearing a ring on your finger. Not now that you were at home taking care of his child when he was out somewhere partying and getting drunk.

You decided to pack your things and wait for him to get home. You didn’t want to stay in the same home of a cheater.

So you put all of your suitcases in your car and waited for him in the living room, already dressed up ready to go out of that house the moment you’d break up with him.

He came home around four in the morning.

And to your shock he wasn’t drunk. At all.

So at this point he had no excuses.

“Hey babe…what are you doing still up? It’s late” he asked you when he saw you on the couch

“I was waiting for you” you told him with a firm voice even if you just wanted to cry

“Oh really?” he teased you

“Yes. And also to tell you that I’m leaving”

“What-what you mean?”

“I mean we’re done” you stated standing up from the couch and removing your engagement ring

“Babe what are you talking about?” he asked you with a worried voice

“This” you showed him the first picture “and also this” you showed him the second picture and as he watched the pictures his face went completely pale. He remembered perfectly what happened but he didn’t want to tell you so he lied

“Baby I was drunk…” he laughed about it

“You weren’t or you would be drunk now Neymar. And even if you were, does that give you the right to cheat on me? Twice?” you asked him now completely crying

“No baby don’t cry” he tried to hug you but you avoided him

“Don’t touch me!”

“Baby…I swear it didn’t mean anything to me, you’re the woman I love please baby” he looked at you with his puppy eyes and you almost gave in. Almost.

“No Neymar. You cheated. You made the mistake and now you’re paying the consequences” you said

“Baby you can’t leave me. What about me? What about Davi? You know he can’t live without you” he said knowing how much you cared for Davi

“Don’t bring him in this conversation!” you said back angrily

“You can’t leave us baby…” he said now crying

“I made a decision and that’s final…I hope they were worth it” and with that you left the house, ignoring his cries and his begging.

You drove for hours before finding an hotel where you could rest.

That night Neymar cried all his tears.

He was heartbroken but also mad at himself for all the pain he caused you.

———————————-

One month after breaking up you found out you were pregnant. With his baby.

You debated if you should tell him or not, deciding in the end that you wouldn’t tell him. This baby would be better without him.

You moved to London just a few weeks after. You found a new job.

A new house.

And you were ready to start your life all over again.

—————————————

NOW

It’s been five years from that night and even if it still hurt you the way you ended things you couldn’t ask for a better life. You had a beautiful four years old daughter, Maya, and she was the love of your life.

You both happily lived in London.

She was attending preschool and you were working for a big agency in the city center.

Nothing could go wrong right?

Wrong.

One morning you and Maya were waiting for your breakfast in your favorite London bar when his voice called you from behind.

“Y/n?” he said and you pretended you didn’t hear but Maya made it clear someone was calling for you

“Mama someone is calling you!!” she said happily and you smiled at her. You turned around and saw him.

He was handsome like always.

“Hi…” you said shyly

“It’s been so long from that…ehm…night. How are you?” he asked you

“I’m good. How about you? I’ve seen you’re playing for PSG” you said and in that moment you cursed yourself for mentioning it

“Yes, I’m in Paris” he said awkwardly

“I love Paris!!” Maya said out of nothing and Neymar looked at her. He was confused.

“Y/n…who is she?”

“She’s my daughter Maya” you said pointing out ‘mine’ because she was only yours

“Is she…?” he wanted to ask you if she was his daughter but you stopped him

“Not here” you said angrily “Maya honey why don’t you go ask the barman if our breakfast is ready? The one who always gives you the candies you love” you told her in a soft voice and she happily nodded and left

“So she’s my daughter” he stated now getting a bit mad

“Only by DNA”

“I could have been in her life! You had no rights to take her away from me!” he whispered-shouted to you

“You’ve lost every rights on ger the night you decided to cheat”

“That’s not fair! She deserves a father in her life”

“No she doesn’t! It’s me and her and we’ve been doing amazing for four years, why should it change now?”

“Because I want to be in her life! She’s my daughter y/n, she’s my blood!”

“Blood doesn’t make a family and you know it” you said looking straight into his eyes

“I want to be a part of her life”

“No. Absolutely not. We don’t need you. She doesn’t need you…”

“Y/n you can’t do this to me…”

“Yes I can, watch me” you stopped talking the moment Maya came back with hand full of candies.

“Joe says our breakfast is coming, is your friend staying mommy?” Maya asked in her sweet voice

“No he’s leaving. He has to go back to Paris. Forever” you said to Maya while never removing your look from Neymar’s eyes. His heart broke when you said those words. You didn’t want him in her life and you made it clear.

“Yes I have to go back home…it was meeting you Maya” he said almost tearing up.

Maya greeted him and kept eating her candies.

You made the right decision not wanting him in her life? Right?

The moment Neymar got back to his hotel, he broke down crying.

You really hated him and in the end it was all his fault. You said it that night. He had to live with the consequences of his own mistake.

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 23

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I've been thinking about this scene long ago in the days when Soft Spot was just an idea of a sequel, all the love to @garbagemilkshake for bringing it to life!

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

As you stepped through the portal to your apartment, you prepared yourself. Donnie’s usual process for dealing with things was drawn out. He took time, released anger, and then approached his feelings when his facilities weren’t clouded. It was a safety mechanism long baked in where time rarely allowed him a chance to think things over. You expected as much as he joined you in your home. 

“あなたは一人じゃない.” Donnie whistled out pressure like an overheated pot the second the portal closed. 

You blinked in where you had an arm around him. 

“Not alone!” He looked over. 

You made yourself accessible. 

“Not alone…” His teeth clenched and he released you to switch grip. 

Your hands were grabbed in his and he took several breaths that grew in length before he was able to moderate his distress. 

He appeared in your wedding band and his presence bowled you over mentally. 

Your own joy flickered up to meet his and you entwined your energies. 

“You’re still there…” He relented for a pathetic churr. 

“I could say the same…” You moved forward physically to cuddle him. “You were gone.” 

“Damned power.” Donnie spat and hugged you. 

Your belly bumped the space between you and prevented a perfect seal. 

You both took a moment to look down on it before meeting back up for a kiss. 

“Was Splinter, right?” You spoke against him. “The baby’ll be okay?” 

“Yes.” Donnie nodded and scrubbed his beak to your nose. “If you can believe ghosts...” 

“All those hooded figures?” 

Donnie froze. 

You watched his eyes search you. 

“I may have broken the circle for a second.” 

“Y/N!” Donnie dropped to his knees to examine your belly. 

You held his head to keep a connection. “Splinter said there’d be lights! Not that you’d all pass out!” 

“We passed out?” Donnie wondered where he slipped a hand under your top. 

“Light came out of your eyes and there was this weird pizza emblem where a topping started to glow and then you flopped over…” 

He turned his head and pressed his tympanum to your abdomen. 

You quieted and tried to still your breath so he could listen. 

He waited out a few beats before he released. 

You pet him in encouragement. 

“They sound okay. Heartbeat even.” 

“They jumped a little. It was scary.” 

“Jumped…?” His phone was immediately out. “With the fused placenta that’s concerning.” 

Your worries bottomed out as you hadn’t thought of that. 

“Dr. Kuro?” Donnie spoke into his receiver. 

You hadn’t even heard a dial tone. 

“Yes. You’re now on speaker.” He held his phone out and hit a button simultaneously. 

“Hey… Doctor…” You rattled out. 

“What’s going on, you two?” Your doctor asked with a tone ready to scold. 

“We had a little mystic run in…” You started. 

“A mystic ritual.” Donnie continued. 

“I thought you two couldn’t see me in my Hidden City office?” Dr. Kuro wondered. 

“Hack job.” Your husband grouched. 

“You know the turtles who saved New York…?” You tried. 

Dr. Kuro’s line was silent. 

“They’re kind of…?” You checked with Donnie. 

“Paltry relation. The father of which drew up a spell to commune with their ancestors.” He returned to his device. “Sending a rudimentary copy of the spell now.” 

With a few swirls on the screen, Donnie drew up something that looked similar and sent it over. 

There was a shift as Dr. Kuro presumably moved her phone to observe. “It looks like a standard summoning, but why is the power dispersed like that? Five channels? How far back in this lineage did you need to ask?” 

Donnie hesitated. 

You shrugged as you weren’t sure. 

He stewed before he asked the ground. “Where were you present in Japan in the late Muromachi period?” 

There was a surprised chirp noise from the phone. 

“Are you familiar with the Foot or Hamato clans?” Donnie’s head tipped.  

“Who is this father?” Dr. Kuro spoke sharply. 

“Hamato Yoshi.” Donnie nuzzled your stomach. 

You stroked over his head. 

“I see…” She sounded like she did. “Have you noticed any abnormalities?” 

“No.” 

“No, vitals appear normal.” 

“How exactly were you involved in the ritual, Y/N?” She asked. 

“I accidentally touched one of the outer lines.” 

“What happened?” 

“I saw… the spirits, I guess? But it was freaky so I jumped away and when I landed the baby jumped too.” 

“The spell drawn disperses what I’m guessing must be an enormous amount of power by directing it  through its users…” Dr. Kuro spoke her thoughts aloud. “Touching the line is like touching a live wire. Even if it was for a second, there’s a chance it could disrupt fetal arrhythmia, which you might not be able to hear. It’s our ‘it could be nothing.’ You will come in at once.” 

“On our way.” Donnie allowed a few seconds on the timer before he ended the call. 

“Bathroom…?” You squeaked out. 

He pressed his face once to your belly before letting go. 

You scurried off. 

When you returned, your partner hadn’t moved at all. He was still on his knees and only moved to look at you. You gave him access to your body again which he used as strength to get himself upright. From there it was a slight stumble to the door where you supported him through our bond. Your presence solidified his footfalls until you were eventually in the car and heading toward your OBGYN office. 

Donnie fiddled with your seat belt over and over during the ride even though you had it placed safely around your belly. 

“Donnie…” You murmured soothingly to him. 

“I know.” He was a little curt, but his lids fell for it. 

You pressed one of your hands over his.

“Not alone…” That bitter phrase escaped his mind where you assumed it was on repeat. 

“You’re not.” 

“Not now.” His tongue clicked. 

You got hold of one of his fingers and squeezed. 

He thanked you for it in a lull. 

You wouldn’t take that comfort from him and asked for nothing more. 

He adjusted the seat belt a few more times before you arrived at your destination. There, he became blind to all else and you had to steer him through the few pedestrians. Late afternoon and on a weekend, there were few people around the medical building. They darted around in a seemingly wayward way that made you struggle with wrangling your husband. The doctor’s office was especially scarce as it seemed closed, but Dr. Kuro was waiting in the doorway for you. 

She ushered you in and turned lights on as you went. You were sat on the usual bed and prepared in the usual way. Dr. Kuro spoke through all of it. Giving comfort and facts as she prepared a fetal echocardiogram. It was a test you were familiar with and both the visual and charted results were eventually generated. 

In an unusual move, Donnie glued himself to the doctor as she accessed and printed out a few more graphs. They were chartings of previous echocardiograms and she didn’t shoo him as she lined them up. She treated him like he was another doctor brought in for their opinion as she pointed to small peaks and valleys. Donnie’s researcher mentality kicked into full swing and you were the one left feeling a little out of place as the two conferred. 

You were rubbing your belly for solace when Donnie suddenly fell around you in a hug. 

You startled, but he was excessively loving as he churred and snuggled close to you. 

“Good news?” You held him as you looked toward the doctor. 

“Yes! There’s no arrhythmia.” She was clearly trying not to laugh at the display. “I will check a few more things to make sure we’re all good.” 

You nodded into your mate as you went through another sonogram and some probing. You weren’t sure if it was the oddity of your day or something else, but you were oddly calm throughout the process. Donnie clung to you all throughout, seemingly soothed by the echocardiogram alone. You leaned into him and Dr. Kuro eventually finished up. 

“I think I can safely call it. There was no damage, but tell me if you experience anything at all. Even gas! Otherwise, you and baby are okay. A little mystic shock spooked them just like you.” She patted your belly while wiping you off. 

“Thank you.” You told her earnestly. 

“Appreciated.” Donnie added. 

“On call is on call!” She laughed brightly. “I have no problem with my chosen profession. Babies are always on the brain!” 

You eventually were up and out of the office where Dr. Kuro continued to encourage you to make her aware of any little thing. You promised every time, without fault, and eventually hugged her in parting. She patted your back and you felt your husband’s put out aura until you were available to him again. He tugged you away and your doctor chuckled at his possessiveness. He refused to speak on it and you wore him as a cape all the way through the elevator and back down to the car where he returned to fixing your seat belt.

He didn’t give it voice, but you could tell he had returned to the mantra. Part of you wanted to ask, but you withheld. He had given sign after sign that he wasn’t ready and you respected that. The clear cause was the ceremony and, from what little you knew, you could tell the ancestors had told him something about not being alone.

You watched his hands work and the clip of his wedding ring came up rhythmically. Of the many facets of the bond you enjoyed, Donnie never having to be truly alone again was a huge one. You considered it separate from your codependency and instead a manifestation of your wish. After everything he’d been through, you never wanted him to suffer in solitude again. He had you and he had built even more connections that you hoped he would continue to foster. Your bond was a fallback and you cherished that he had a safety net.

That didn’t erase his years alone.

For you, those times were stories. They were haunts explained to you. The fables manifested in a real way through trauma and scars. The map of Donnie’s carapace was scripture. Slabs of skins were tanned hide and with it came the folly of man. They were a warning, one that he hid away with wraps and metal. His battle shell was armor both for his existence and a ward to keep from falling into the same pit again.

He was alone once.

He had lived out so much of his life alone.

He installed a network of cameras to watch his every movement and they had been reduced to stale security monitors. There were countless hours of footage of those empty six apartments. They were stored and backed up in probably a dozen more ways than you could count. His time in them were blips. Fast forwarded footage where he appeared as a lone occupant cycling through a stagnant space before venturing back out because that’s all it had been, a pit stop in his life.

Then, it changed.

From your first entrance after a provoking dinner, you became a staple. You viewed your footage as slower. Even that first morning when you fell out of bed, your aching body shook for a longer moment than he ever had. It was upon your confusion that the first recorded image of clarity was taken. From then on, your visage grew in number and painted the apartment. Overlaps of film had you scouring every surface until it was not some transient space, but a home for you both.

There would soon be another.

A small baby who no matter how big they got would rely on you both. One that would sleep and cry and transform the cameras yet again. From a married couple to life with children, you were about to hit a new demographic. That had to be terrifying in a way, especially to a man who lived his life in lapses. Segments for him were terrifying chapters that were shut away in books. They were sealed records, hopefully never to be seen again, but known to the one who wrote them.

You had your baby book now.

So far you mostly had detailed out little thoughts along with the growing army of sonogram photos. There were sections pre-made down the line for first nail trim and things like that. It was a list of milestones that you knew would warrant interest to your and your spouse. Donnie loved anniversaries and you wondered to what extent he would take your childs. He relished, you thought, in those moments because they were ones he never had. No one saw to celebrate any of his markers of life, though you had glimpsed a few of your own.

His first relaxing sleep.

His first proclamation of love.

His first birthday party.

Anything he had ever missed, he was about to experience anew.

For every year that he lost, he was about to reset the clock.

For every second he wished would be over, he was about to cherish them.

He would beg for more.

That was his gluttony and you saw to it being fed.

You also would keep him famished.

That contrarian cycle was your dream state. 

He would always come to you for more. 

Only you could satisfy. 

You would start the timer with a click and give him everything anew.

Through what you were preciously developing and sheer will, Donnie was about to start over. The moment he held his child in his arms, he would know it too. That sense of fatherhood would hit him and you knew the weepy look he was going to give his progeny. It would be that he both had and was witnessing the most precious thing in the world. Together, they would experience it all. Every moment Donnie never had, every one he yearned for, all he hoped, every dream, together.

The cameras would continue to document, but this would be real time.

You couldn’t imagine him missing a second.

You were at the apartment before each of you knew it. Both distracted by plaguing thoughts, you emerged only after a beep from the car. It was a chime you hadn’t heard in a long time. The vehicle called to its unruly passengers and you idly wondered why Donnie had added that kind of programming. Before you, did he still flicker in and out of existence with his weak flame?

You tended to that now. Like an olden lighthouse keeper, you cared for the spark. You kept it lit and weary travelers away from crags and cliffs. At all hours you made sure it was at its brightest. You were the beacon of sorts, but mostly used to direct. You had strong words for where not to go and very little of where to. That was Donnie’s choice in the matter, but still he followed you.

Out of the car, after you swiped the alarm and he tenderly undid your buckle for you. Behind you, as your plump form made both the exchange from standing or sitting a bit of an ordeal. Around you, a reassuring hand to your back as you heaved upright and caught your breath. You loved your baby dearly, but in some ways you wished they weren’t rearranging all your organs.

You led through the lobby with your person-sized overcoat. Donnie made the trek difficult as he refused to leave you. He clearly cared little about his whereabouts and would almost prefer to stand stagnant. You kept him going with your direction and eventually got to the elevator. A few button presses led up to your door and your apartment.

Your darling doorman opened it for you and you reached inside for what seemed like the first breath in a while. The interior of your abode greeted your new mindset. Your goal was lofty and you were proud of it. New lives were rightfully attainable for the ones you loved and you would guide both persons well. Rolling your neck in pseudo-preparations, Donnie continued to coil around you until his lips found your ear.

“May we…?”

“Hm?” You tried to find his eyes, but he tucked away.

He mumbled into your shoulder. “… resume our earlier…?”

You thought on what he could mean. Your morning had been relatively busy with fussing over Raph’s arrival so there was little to continue there. You highly doubted Donnie wanted to revisit anything from that interim which left what occurred when you got home. You had been hugging and you tried to move in his grip so you could hold him.

He moved to stay hidden behind you.

You bobbed with light laughter and decided to ask. “Resume what?”

He held firm with obvious embarrassment leaking off of him.

“My sweet, sweet husband…” You cooed and sauntered a few steps knowing he would follow.

Your hips shook him along.

“I wonder… I’m usually good at figuring these things out, but…”

He nosed along the back of your neck.

You shivered.

He stopped and pressed his forehead flat against the area. It was a clear sign that you weren’t trending sexual, so there had to be something else. Your brow creased to a point where you thought you might trigger a headache. Donnie’s hands were clinical in finding your hips. It was a hold to keep you in place and one you vaguely recognized. Placing it was the harder part.

This sort of grip had been deployed in many ways over the years. From steering to stopping, there were a million different connotations. With sex supposedly off the table, you knocked out a bunch of options. He barely wanted to move and very much wanted to stay glued to you, so transport was eliminated. That meant static options. You weren’t trying to get away from him, but he still wanted to do something. Lately, he sought you at all hours, but his usual goal was around your front.

He wasn’t holding your belly, you realized as you looked down. From behind, you could sort of see his hands as they tucked around your sides and were patently free of that destination. You highly doubted he wanted to avoid your baby as every stressor of this day had gone towards their wellbeing.

You put together right then what he wanted to continue. “I think it’ll work best if we sit.”

His nod was ferocious against your spine. It shook you free and you trailed over to the couch. He followed close behind and you gestured to the coffee table as you sat in your spot. The time it took for him to push the wood aside was exactly the amount for you to get situated. With your widening pelvis, you now sat with a metered spread of your legs. You were supposed to be minding your spine, but reclining felt especially good as it shifted your gravity downward to relieve the pressure.

You sighed comfortably as you felt Donnie kneel in front of you.

You afforded him privacy as you let your head loll back into the cushions.

Little brushes to your knees asked for more space because he didn’t quite fit there.

He was large and you would need to readjust everything to get comfortable again. For him, it was worth it, and you shuffled. He kept himself as a wedge so you could better measure the distance and set your legs wider. You squirmed on your bottom and dipped your hands down to hold your child. A little shifting and you could eventually lean back with some semblance of the same sigh on your lips.

Donnie reached forward with a shy skim.

He traced along your legs.

He reached further back.

He didn’t hold, but slipped his hands stationary beside your hips.

There, you felt him nose over your belly lightly before he buried his face there.

The sudden pressure tickled your heart and you fought a giggle.

A loud churr broke the silence and he stilled with his face against your stomach.

“Better?” You murmured to him.

“Soon…” He did his own adjustments until the side of his head was pressed to hear your baby.

You slowed your breath in long releases.

Everything settled.

He was not alone.

He would never be again.

After what you gauged as an appropriate time had passed, you reached out.

You did your own skim.

A ghost over his shoulders.

Up the sinew of his neck.

To settle your digits against his cranium and hold him in place.

Pressing a literal reassurance against him of all he had.

He exhaled as if he hadn’t in a long time.

He went slack.

You kept him there.

With you.

With your baby.

He breathed as if asleep when he finally spoke. “They… said… they had always been there…”

In a blink. you envisioned all those hooded figures.

You felt him close his eyes and return there as well. “Not just… spoken. I felt… it. Their sorrow. How… they could not… help. How they watched all that occured…”

You squeezed.

His hands slid around to hold your lower back.

You felt a shift from your baby.

Donnie was close enough that he did too.

He started up a slow churr and pressed it inward. “It’s alright… Papà’s alright…”

You smiled at the name.

It might have been in your head, but you swore you felt your child calm.

Donnie warmed your stomach with his breath and set his forehead against you. “They were there when I was little.”

Your fingers twitched.

He kissed you through your shirt. “They saw.”

“They apologized…” You remembered he had set.

“Their sorrow…” He forced his churr to continue, to weather the stormy thoughts. “It was real. I believed.”

You petted him slowly.

“They believe in destiny.”

You made sure your hand made a rhythmic, predictable path.

“All those born, who will be Hamato, gain power.”

“That doesn’t sound genetic…”

“It’s not.” 

You opened your eyes and thought tangentially toward the ceiling.

“That is the destiny. Access to such power differs. One finds that in the living. In not living for oneself. For another.”

“When you saved me.”

He took a deep breath to build up his churring.

“Our baby…”

“Protecting the whole above oneself.”

You remembered the blinking slice filling up. “Donnie… do you…?”

There was a glittering dance of purple in your periphery before you registered what it was. 

Your head came down and the entire room had changed.

It was a veritable mess, but the contents sent your heart straight into your throat.

Across nearly every inch of your apartment were ninpo constructions of baby things.

Blocks scattered on your moved coffee table.

Mechanical toys littered the floor.

Baby bottles, little plates, tinier utensils, and a drying rack that was barely utilized coated your kitchen.

A crib sat off to the side where you hadn’t moved the dresser yet from where you wanted to put it.

You didn’t realize you were suffocating Donnie until his churr hiccupped.

“Ah! Sorry!” You sent shiny eyes toward him.

He looked up at you with the same.

“This-!”

“For you.”

He looked down at your belly and snuggled up against it.

“Both of you.”

You shot forward to hug as much of him as you could.

You ended up folding over him and he languished under the pressure. “Here for each other.”

You loosened a little to view him.

“Always.”

You pulled him up for a kiss.

He relented and there was a bursting of pixels as the constructs dissolved.

They sparkled around you as you parted.

You shared a look and he leaned up into you without melding your lips again.

You lingered in his space.

You shared it long enough that one of his hands came around to settle on your belly.

“Well, papà…?”

You felt him startle.

You stroked down his cheek to tell him whatever he wanted to go by was fine.

He churred against your hand.

“You’ll take good care of us?”

He grinned so brightly you had to wince against the shine.

He stole a kiss while you were blinded.

You settled against him and between breaths managed, “And we’ll do the same for you.” He nodded his faith and pulled you closer.

💜 NEXT 💜

New year, best betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Helllooooo!!! I hope you're having a good day!! 💕💜✨

Can I submit a prompt where Lloyd calls in his normally mousey assistant on one of her off days and is blown back by her casual attire? Maybe she's on her way out of hang with the girls and she's got her hottie/freekum dress/attire on.

Bonus if she is as completely I bothered as she normally is and even teases him a bit for his audacity 😈😈

I appreciate you're brain and the time you spend sharing it with us!! ☺️💕💜

Hi nonny!! So sorry this took so long, but here it is! And just as a warning, this one is a doozy and I will not be earning bonus points based on your ask.

Is getting negative points a thing?? (Because this thing went off the rails...)

Title: Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

Warnings: horrible boss Lloyd, pet name (Mouse), power imbalance, multiple threats of violence, non-con, forced oral sex (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, forced hand job (m receiving), dub-con p-in-v intercourse, vaginal creampie, forced oral sex (m receiving), oral creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: I apologize to nonny who asked for something (I think) completely different. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’re at home getting ready to go out with the girls. It has been ages since you had a free night to let your hair down. But tonight was the night. 

You made sure to ditch the wool sweaters, drab colors, and sensible shoes that you usually wear to work. Instead, you opt for a form-fitting pinstripe dress that ends just above your knee. Large hoop earrings push through your hair and demand attention. Your feet are covered in strappy heels that are cuter than they are comfortable.

But beauty is pain, no?

Just as you are exiting your apartment and entering your car, your phone buzzes. You pull your phone from your purse and growl at the text message from your boss.

Your boss, your reason for migraine medication, the bane of your existence. Lloyd Hansen. Getting an internship with Hansen Government Service was supposed to be a summer gig to help you pay for odds and ends during your last year at college. But no, you had to go ahead and impress the CEO with your problem-solving and the way you covered your former boss’ ass one too many times. 

And now here you are, the personal assistant to this deplorable caricature of a human being. Amazing vision and dental benefits aside, you were the glorified babysitter to a sociopath with an inferiority complex. But you keep your mouth shut and your head down because you know where your bread is buttered.

The text from Lloyd is still sitting in your inbox unread one minute later when your phone starts to ring. You were hoping he would think you were asleep or something, but you remember Lloyd doesn’t observe normal business hours. And he doesn’t give a shit if you have a day off either.

“Yes, Sir,” you answer with Lloyd’s preferred moniker.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” he asks, his annoyed tone unmistakable.

“I apologize for not being available to you, Sir. What can I help you with?” you acknowledge, wanting him to get to his point of bothering you.

“Hmmm. I’m gonna ignore you being rudely polite. For now. Need you to get my dry cleaning, Mouse,” he advises, using that nickname that boils your blood.

“Sir. It’s almost 9 p.m. Are the dry cleaners still open?” you wonder aloud.

“I called them, and they agreed to re-open so that I could get my shirts. Wasn’t that nice of them? You don’t wanna keep that sweet old lady waiting this late at night, do you?” he persuades, a sinister chuckle sending a chill down your spine.

“I will pick up your shirts for you, Sir,” you question.

“Had to pull a late night at the office, but I’m leaving now. Meet me at my place, Mouse,” he replies.

“Yes, Sir,” you say, holding back the urge to scream in his ear and ending the call. 

By being at the office, he is within walking distance of the shop where his clothing is being held. 

Deep breaths. Don’t let him take your joy.

You pass your office building and veer into the small shopping center. Stepping into the shop, you realize you don’t have a ticket, but you also know that the place is staying open for only one reason.

“You here to pick up Hansen?” The old woman behind the counter smiles at you and you nod stepping over to her, “Very particular, that one. Don’t let him work you too hard, honey.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you greet, smiling when she handed over the hangers of shirts covered in plastic material, “May I just apologize for him keeping you open past your hours?”

Before you can apologize, the sweet woman comes around the counter and pats your hand.

“How long are you going to apologize for him? Just go home, honey. And good luck with that one,” she reasons, and she scoots you out of the store before you can tell her that you’re only his assistant, not his long-suffering wife.

You give up trying to explain yourself and turn around to get back in your car. With the shirts hung in the back seat, you speed until you get to Lloyd’s gated community. Pushing in the code to the outer gate, you squirm in your seat as the gate slowly opens.

Driving through streets with pretentious names, you end up at the cul-de-sac where his McMansion sits center-stage among the other Stepford homes. You park next to his vehicle in the spacious driveway, a BMW M8 Competition Convertible in Alpine White. Not a scratch on her sparkling surface.

You stuff down the urge to put a scratch on his car because he will notice it. He notices everything. And with the level of neat freak that he is, he probably would notice a single fingerprint on the car’s hood.

Walking up to the door, you see the Ring camera and press the doorbell. The porch light comes on and the door opens to reveal your boss talking on the phone with one earbud in his ear. He pauses and looks you up and down before letting you walk in around him.

“I’m gonna have to go, something just came up,” he purrs, adjusting himself in the two seconds you were looking away from him. He pulls out his earbud, ending the call and turning his attention to you, “Mouse, glad you could make it, but you didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“I didn’t. Here are your shirts. Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you explain, holding his dry cleaning out so he can take them. 

Once he reaches out, he bypasses the shirts, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. “Maybe there is one thing you can do for me, Mouse. It is quite a big job though,” he dares, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.

“Hmmm. Sir, I didn’t come all this way to do whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you warn, putting your hand on his chest to push him away as you feel his increased heart rate. 

His eyes are dark, with barely any blue left in the iris. You can almost feel how hungry he is for you.

“Well, I was gonna say I wouldn’t mind a blowjob from those perfect glossy lips. But I think I wanna hear your mouth moan for me while I eat that pretty pussy instead,” he admits, taking the shirts out of your hand before hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Sir! No! Put me down, you fucking psycho. What are you doing?” you demand, pounding your hands on his back and landing a harsh blow directly to his ass.

“Fuck, Mouse! Hands to yourself, or I won’t keep my hands to myself, ok?” he cautions, surprising you with a hard slap to your ass, “And you got that wrong anyway, I’m technically a sociopath, not a psychopath.”

You’re in a state of stunned silence as he walks up the grand staircase in the room and brings you into a bedroom down the hall. You don’t have time to wonder what all of the other rooms are used for as you are dumped on his bed. The silk sheets underneath you are comfortable, but they seem creepy once you think about being thrown down on top of them. Before you can scramble off of the bed, Lloyd grabs you by the hips and traps you under his weight. 

“Mouse, mouse, mouse. Why don’t you ever dress like this for me?” he breathes, his clothed erection nestled against your hip, “You wearing this for some asshole? Should call him up and tell him I got to you first.”

“Sir, please. I was just going to hang out with my girls. I promise I won’t say anything about this if you just let me go,” you whimper, your hands going to his chest again trying to push him away.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed. His nose takes in your RiRi perfume as it glides along your neck. Kicking your legs open, he nestles himself in between so he can rock his hips into you. Feeling his hardening dick against your panties as your dress rides up, he groans as he feels the heat coming off of you.

“Kinda funny you want me to let you go. But I bet if I dipped a finger into that cute snatch I know you have, I would find a little honey pot full of delicious sweetness waiting for me. Shall I test that out?” he counters. Holding both wrists in one giant hand as he trails a hand down your body until it disappears between you.

You feel his bruising fingers pushing your panties out of the way to find his prize. His touch turns almost delicate as the tips of his fingers find your wet pussy; your body’s betrayal is evident in the puddle forming on your netherlips. The look in his eyes when he finds what he’s looking for is bordering on sheer joy.

“There it is, Mouse. Just like I knew it would be,” he beams, pulling two fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and sucking them clean, “Fuck. I knew it would be delicious. You’re gonna sit on my face and give me all your sweet cream.”

He rolls your body over so that you are straddling him. You debate trying to scramble off of him, but he pinches your thigh and brings you back to the task at hand. You crawl up his body and hover over his face until he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down over his eager mouth.

Looking down at him, he looks serene with his eyes closed as he goes to work on your sensitive folds. For a while, you feel nothing when he licks up your slit. Circling your nub with his tongue, he moans when your clit twitches. When kitten licks against your clit turn to sucking it into his mouth, you can’t restrain the urge to grab a handful of his hair.

If he wants to hear you moan pretty for him, he’s gonna need to do better than this. You grind your pussy into his tongue and sigh when he sticks his tongue directly into your hole. Fucking into you with his tongue is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You tighten your fingers in his auburn hair, unable to hold back your orgasm for much longer. Visions of all the times he looked at you like you were a piece of meat flash before your eyes. The way all of his other assistants quit the job after short stints. And you just about gift-wrapped yourself for him tonight.

You should have never answered the phone. But it’s kind of hard to think about that now with the way your resolve is slowly slipping away. You feel the metaphorical rubber band being stretched to within an inch of its life. Until pop!

The wave of your climax washes over you like a warm blanket. Your keening whine is music to Lloyd’s ears as he holds you tighter when you try and extricate yourself from his grasp. He laps up everything you have to give him and makes obscene sucking and licking noises. Once he lets up on your pussy, he lets your weak body roll to the side on its own. You don’t notice you are crying until he licks away one tear.

He looks down at you as he wipes his mustache clean of your juices. “Every part of you tastes amazing, Mouse. Even your tears. Fuck, that’s so hot I got you crying for me,” he hums, wiping away your tears with a thumb as he lays next to your limp body.

You’re quiet as you lay in your boss’ bed, him having just defiled your body with his tongue. Not knowing what to think, your brain just replays everything trying to find where you went so wrong. Because not only was that an Earth-shattering orgasm but it was given to you by your boss. That kind of thing is frowned upon in most companies. But Lloyd is the CEO, are the rules different? You don’t have the time to keep thinking when Lloyd chimes in.

“Now, Mouse, I’m sure your brain is going a mile a minute. But let me make one thing clear: I am going to need you to come into work dressed just like this from now on. You wear something tight, something that shows off this body, something that I can pull up or down and fuck you in while we’re in the office,” he chuckles as you look over to him with tears in your eyes at your new fate, “We’ll put that into your contract. What do you think? From Personal Assistant to Fuck Toy. That’s a step up, huh?”

You say nothing, content to shed tears and wish that the Earth would open up and swallow you.

“Don’t be so gloomy. At least you got to come, unlike some of us. You can help me with that, can’t you Mouse?” he pleads, as if he didn’t just change your job title to fit your new duties. He unzips his pants, pulling out his thick length and reaching for your hand to wrap around it, “I won’t need much help. I could’ve blown in my pants like a fucking teenager when you came in my mouth.”

You wish his mouth would just fucking stop. You don’t need the commentary. You unenthusiastically jerk him off until he spills rope after rope of jizz painting your hand and his pants. At least he was right, he didn’t need much help. 

“Good fucking job, Mouse,” he gushes, throwing an arm over his brow as he catches his breath, “Can’t wait to take that cunt for a test drive but I can wait until my balls are not so fucking empty. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”

You rise and walk into the attached bathroom all without a single thought in your head. You use the toilet, wash your hands, and splash water on your face. You avoid the mirror like the plague.

Coming back to the bedroom, you are greeted by Lloyd lying on his side and crooking a finger at you. You swallow your spit and take a deep breath, moving to join him on the bed. 

Once there, you let him manhandle you in every position he wants. You close your eyes, wishing you were somewhere else. Until he has you on your back. He makes you stare into his eyes as he fucks you like the little puppet you are. When he takes you over the edge again, he doesn’t stop his onslaught until you beg him to stop.

But begging only drives him to go harder. Flesh slapping against flesh painfully until he pushes himself deep within you and stills. Every twitch and spurt felt inside of you like a slap to the face. You’re not on birth control and you fear asking if he is snipped but he speaks up before you can ask.

“I pay you enough to afford the morning-after pill, right?” he asks, his dick softening and sliding out of you.

Fucking asshole. The thought of murder crosses your mind more than once, but you know people might come looking for him. And the thought of having to trade in your freedom for a life behind bars makes you rethink killing this nutcase.

So, instead, you just say, “Yes, Sir.”

“Right. Good. Alright, well it’s not too late for you to go out with your friends. Don’t stay out too late, you have work in the morning. Bright and early, Mouse. I expect you to be there tomorrow,” he remarks, acting like he didn’t just use your body for his sick pleasure, “That means you’re good to go home now, Mouse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets off you, climbing off the bed and adjusting himself, pulling you up and escorting you to the front door. He all but pushes you out of the door into the night, as if you were trash. When you get back inside your car, your phone has tons of messages from your friends wondering where you are.

You send a mass text that you weren’t feeling well, and you needed rest. It wasn’t entirely untrue anyway. You make it back home, shedding your clothes as you walk to your bedroom. You pull back the covers and wrap yourself in warmth, willing the events of the night to just go away. But they don’t go away.

The next morning, you shower and dress like Lloyd wants. The looks of your coworkers cause heat to rise to your face. You don’t usually get this type of attention. Or any attention when you think about it. 

When you get to Lloyd’s office, he is sitting behind his desk on a call, and he waves you over. You walk around his desk and see his pants are already unbuttoned and his half-chub is sticking out. You spare yourself the embarrassment of being asked and go right to work on him with your hands. Unsurprised when he puts a hand on the back of your head, you just lower yourself and take him in your mouth.

Little does he know; your head game is strong. And within about three minutes, you have him spasming down your throat. His softening cock is sensitive as you tease him by swirling your tongue around the head. He ends his phone call and holds your face in his hands.

“What’s my soul taste like, Mouse? I’m sure you sucked it right out,” he praises, his dazed eyes focusing on you while he catches his breath.

“If you had a soul, I’m sure it would taste as bitter as your cum,” you snap, uncaring of whether or not he was offended.

“Good point. Watch that pretty mouth, though. My precious feelings might get hurt. And then you might get hurt. So, play nice, Mouse,” he cautions, lightly clapping his hand against your cheek, just hard enough to jerk you out of misbehaving.

“Yes, Sir,” you sass, putting on a fake smile and Lloyd rolls his eyes, shooing you away.

You can do what he says, doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him in the slightest. And isn’t that the best way to get back at him? Give him everything he wants but with no enthusiasm. Of course, you know this little plan of yours won’t last long. But when you’re faced with a demon like Lloyd Hansen, you’ll take any little victory you can. As few and far between as they may be.

A/N: This got way out of hand. I don’t know what happened. Um, I’m not sorry though. Because I love this and if it ends up being just for me, then so be it.

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[throneofsapphics]

I love how you write rowaelin x reader and I had an idea of where rowaelin and reader have a dog(or multiple dogs cuz the more dogs the better) and they’re all just really cute. 💜

(I love all your writing btw)

a fluffy found family

Rowaelin x Reader

Warnings: none 

A/N: thank you for the request!! I love the idea of them having a pack of dogs 

Fleetfoot was still the leader of the pack, even with gray hairs spotting his muzzle. The other four ran around the garden - chasing each other, as fleetfoot let out the occasional woof. 

You sat next to him, sprawled out on a blanket, one hand lazily petting his head. You watched as one of the younger dogs cut across the yard, realizing it couldn’t run quite fast enough to catch the other, and barrelled into him, sending the other dog rolling in circles. You jumped to your feet, concern lighting your features - but he just stood back up, gave a big shake, and took off again. A huge sigh of relief left your stomach, as a warm hand laid on your shoulder. 

They were all different in size and shape, but each was as adorable as the other. According to you, and anytime someone tried to disagree - you would bite their head off for it. Nobody got to talk shit about your pups. All of them mutts, like Fleetfoot, and all ones you’d picked up off the streets. Rowan tried to put his foot down at three, but Aelin had cooed over the last puppy you snuck in - about six months ago, and he could never say no to both of you if you teamed up on him. 

“They’re still going at it,” Aelin murmured fondly from behind you, you leaned back into her, her arms wrapping around your stomach - chin propping on your shoulder. 

“It’s been a while.” 

Fleetfoot rose from his position, winding between both of your legs - knocking you off balance as he wedged himself between the two of you. This time, you stumbled backwards, ass hitting the ground. 

“Fleetfoot,” Aelin scolded him, and he turned to you - wide eyed, and trotted over to give a small lick to your cheek. 

“He didn’t mean it,” you scolded Aelin this time. 

“Picking him over me?” 

You frowned, looking down to see him, eyes gazing at you expectantly - as if he was waiting for you to say yes, obviously.

Aelin’s presence attracted the others, because they all came running back in a flood.

Your arms braced over your chin - preparing for the oncoming storm, but they all paused a foot or two away. It took you a moment to realize why. A wall of wind had gone up, separating the remaining three dogs from you. 

“Rowan,” you groaned. 

“Was I supposed to let you get mauled?” 

“They’d never maul me,” 

“Swarmed?” He corrected. 

You flopped on your back, turning enough to glare at him. Arms crossed, and green eyes lit with amusement, he stared down at you. 

“I’m mad at you now,” you weren’t - not really. The look in his eyes called your bullshit. 

The shield fell, and the dogs approached calmly this time. 

[yoonyeon0]

((Can you write about Meguro? What happens if he falls in love with someone (S/O)? What will he do to get their attention? (1) ))

Hi, that's why I read your posts... I wanted to ask when this part will be? 👆🏻🤨

By the way, thanks for writing 💋

another day, another late ask replied to ☹️ im trying my best yall, please be patient with me 😭😭 (a/n : this is lowkey kinda short…sorry..😕)

Meguro Masaki Falling In love with someone else’s S/O Hcs

let’s go!!

Meguro hasn’t and most likely won’t (if it wasn’t for you) feel love before. His heart is already mangled as well as his brain but when he’s with you, he feels a little more at ease. He feels like he’ll be okay and trust me - that’s weird coming from MEGURO MASAKI.

・・・・☆

Now, Meguro would definitely stay reserved (or at least try) and for the most part, he’ll think that you’re not dating which puts him at an advantage but he’s in for a surprise. Let’s just say for short, Meguro hates sharing. Absolutely despises it.

・・・・☆

Gets so jealous it makes others around him jealous too. He first envies your partner. Why would you choose them instead of him? He was much better in his opinion (that may or may not be right..)

・・・・☆

He then envies the fact that your in relationship even though that is the same thing that he is craving and hunting for within you. It hurts him to think that you could ‘betray’ him like that.

・・・・☆

Meguro literally does everything and anything to get your attention. He’ll first start off subtle, just asking you questions about your self until he’s litterally giving you flowers (that he found on the side of the road). He really tries to display his love to you in multiple ways, both in the ways you find normal and the ways he finds normal. He is definitely a handful.

・・・・☆

Whenever he’s around you, you literally feel his eyes burning into your eyes. His stare is intense, as if he’s claiming you right in front of everyone. So trust me, it definitely takes you for a rollercoaster when you get the tingling sensation all throughout your body; warning you of the potential danger in front of you. Bad thing that you ignored it.

・・・・☆

Now, ideally, you are supposed to fall in love with him. Leave your partner and go run away with him but obviously you don’t. You tell him that you’re already in a relationship. And he doesn’t take that for an answer at all..

・・・・☆

He definitely keeps trying. If your partner tries to interfere, he will definitely get salty. He’ll feel like you’re leaving him and he won’t want that to happen so if you use your inference skills, you can guess what he did.

・・・・☆

Now you’re devastated and absolutely dumbfounded. You’re scared and terrified. This guy you basically just turned down just killed the person you called spouse. So now what do you do? Well, try and stay away from him.

・・・・☆

But that doesn’t work out. Now that Meguro thinks that his competition is gone, his advances will be much more targeted and straightforward. He will definitely tell you he loves you and has for a long time. Probably doesn’t come out with the fact that he watches you sleep follows you around.

・・・・☆

Now eventually he’ll ask you to be his partner and he’ll EXPECT a yes. If you even mutter a no, he’ll zone out. So it’s better for you to choose the safer way than the dangerous way. You’re not trying to live fast, die young.

・・・・☆

Knowing him, he would definitely hide you away from people so that they can’t take you away from him. And the rest should be clear enough. 😘

・・・・☆

Honestly, the short version is if Meguro has his eyes on you, you’re his - no discussion needed.

how I feel after having a full req box but not answering one of em for 6 days..we won’t talk abt THAT 💜

𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣! 𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠.

[daenysx]

modern!aemond x reader where reader is the sweet type but can be a bit of a brat too. aemond always finds a way to punish her but the sex is soft and passionate sometimes too.

please? thank u, love the way you write your fics 💜

thank you for the sweet words and the request, i hope you like it. requests are open!!

my masterlist

irresistible

soft sex with modern!aemond when he is worried about you.

aemond is worried. literally. he is at his apartment, not knowing where you are. he calls you multiple times and texts you as well but there is no answer from you. you should've come 2 hours ago.

at first he doesn't think anything bad, but then the minutes pass on clock mockingly and he sends you a new text for every minute. no answer. he calls some of your friends but they don't know anything.

in the morning you tell him that you will be at school all day, it's a day full of lectures. you say you will be in his apartment as soon as the classes are over but now you are not here and he worries.

when he hears the sound of your keys opening the door, he stands up and rushes to the door.

"fucking finally, love."

"hello to you too, baby. missed me much?"

"i've been calling you for two hours and there is no answer. care to explain?"

"sorry about that, my phone is dead."

he has been worrying and that's the answer he gets. he sighes,

"you will be the death of me."

he takes your books from your hands, you remove your coat and try to hug him.

"no, i'm still angry at the situation."

you pout.

"oh, please aemond. i'm sorry but it shouldn't be this much of a big deal, you know i would call you back if i had the chance."

"hmm, still no."

"is this your way of punishing me?"

you know he doesn't like it when he can't hear from you. you don't want to be bratty about that but really there was nothing you could do about the stupid fucking phone.

you go to bathroom and have shower. waterdrops help you calm down and relax. it is a long day, and getting absolutely no hugs from your boyfriend doesn't help.

you get out of the bathroom wearing your bathrobe. aemond is in the bedroom, waiting for you. he slowly approaches you, there is a look on his face that you can't easily figure out. you don't like it when you're not close to him.

"is there something you'd like to say?"

"well, i've already said i'm sorry twice but apparently it's not enough for my boyfriend."

"hmm, perhaps your boyfriend was worried sick about you."

"yes, maybe. but he shouldn't punish me like this especially when i had an exhausting day."

he gets closer to you, holding your face in his hands. you look tired and he can't stay mad at you much longer.

he leans into kiss your lips,

"now you changed your mind?"

"you shouldn't force it, my love."

you chuckle lightly and kiss him first. it's an eager kiss, sweet but passionate. he kisses you back, holding your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"take me to bed, aemond."

"always demanding, aren't you?"

"yes, when it comes to you."

he lifts you up and takes you to bed. your hair is still wet from shower but neither of you care about it. he helps you take off your bathrobe and you are completely naked in front of him. a sight for sore eyes. he looks at you like a starved man.

"you have too many clothes on you baby."

"you think so, little brat?"

you take off his shirt and belt. he stands up and takes off everything left. he positions himself on you and kisses your neck. his fingers are on your clit, slowly rubbing it and driving you insane.

"aemond please.."

"hmm, think of it as a way of making up to me. i've been worried and i deserve something about it."

his pace is slow but steady, with perfect touches.

"inside me, please."

he has an adoring look on his face, you are too sweet. he can't resist you no matter how hard he tries.

his long fingers are inside you, then he pulls them and replaces them with his cock in one swift movement. you gasp with the sudden change, this is so beautiful how he fits perfectly inside you. it's slow and passionate just like you love after a long day.

his thrusts end with your soft moans and his groans. he holds you in his arms after and takes you under the duvet. you melt in his arms, slowly drift off to sleep.

he kisses your forehead.

"i love you, babygirl. please don't worry me like this again."

you mumble sleepily.

"i'm sorry, aemond. i love you."

[vqrtualheartss]

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ| (Yes that is my name)

I'm getting a lil' emotional cz like, my page is growing?? Again, I love y'all for it and like thank you so so much and I promise to get started on atmv3 as soon as I can

I've been seeing these all around so I'm giving them a try

Might turn these into stories

There's are what the title says, plus character pairings

Online Dating AU |

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 On facetime with Miles you told him "I love you" for the first time thinking he wouldn't hear because he was playing CoD until you saw him try to physically wipe the smile of his face with it returning wider each time. He was stuttering trying to say it back after he realized you were looking directly at the screen smiling. (He was basically talking gibberish until he gave in and said it in Spanish). —Bonus, you didn't understand the Spanish so he tried saying it in English and was still stuttering so he used Spanglish—

(💜) "yo love you también- I mean tienes todo mi corazón- Yo estaba tratando de decir I love you"

(💜) Had a 3 hour long call with you two doing hair but kept going offtrack arguing which hair products were better for 4c, eventually he admitted that he just wanted to hear you talk

(💜) Drew a big ass portrait of you in Brooklyn but decided against showing you over the phone promising himself that he has to show you in person one day. It took him days to perfect with him being The Prowler and all

(💜) Visiting unknowingly, Rio caught him singing Spanish love songs to you and teased him about it.

Break up AU |

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 His friends practically begged you to speak to him because he's been out of it in studies, on the court etc. Turned into having that deep talk and you both sobbing, holding each other. Or making out who knows

(💜) "Why are you here ?" x "I didn't know where else to go"

(💜) There were multiple times where you caught each other staring, the tension wasn't anything rough or edgy though, more like unfinished business.

(💜) Both found each other getting wasted trying to forget about one another, when confronted about it y'all had that gaze set upon the other waiting to see who'd make the first move you want to. (Kinda like a Lil Tjay and Rubi Rose moment)

(💜) Made up an excuse that he came for his stuff just so he could see you. (He left them there btw)

(💜) Over the phone he had that honeyed laughter saying " Tesoro, you're not my ex if we're gonna come back to each other? Aún te amo y sé que tú también"

ִ ࣪𖤐 (Y/N) x e42 Miles Tropes

(☁️) Laughs at kids falling x Covers mouth if they do it in broad daylight (vice versa could work too)

(☁️) "I'd never let my girl out like that" — "My wife can do whatever she wants I have a glock"

(☁️) Brat x "Yell at me again and I'll give you a real reason to scream"

(☁️) "I hate my hair today" x "I really don't care. You still look beautiful and I'm trying to not kiss you senseless right now"

(☁️) "Are you making a hickey on me??" x "How else are people supposed to know what's mine?"

(☁️)"I'm nothing special" x "You're special to me"

(☁️) "I don't think I'll be able to give you what you want right now", "It's a good thing we have forever"

(☁️) "I'm so fucked up all I want is you" "I love you too"

I'm so sorry it's short, I needed something to keep my page alive, I have like 3 stories I want to write and have not started one. lol

©vqrtualheartss 2023 ©dae 2023