#I'm going to retaliate. I'm going to stand up for myself. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fhrlclln · 1 month ago

Note

y'know what, qimir deserves to be a babygirl sometimes. what about a fic where he's on the early stages of training softie!y/n so they're still not well versed in using the force, but once vernestra tried to attack qimir, he was surprised that y/n could wreak havoc like that 😁

p.s. i LOVE u fics sm <333

you give me strength | qimir

SUMMARY -> in a weak moment, he thought his life would end right there in the hands of his former master's final blow, but he thought otherwise when you showed up.

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WARNINGS -> sweet moments before disaster, slight tension, qimir's a softie, violence, mentions of blood, fight scene

WC -> 2.14k

a/n: I'M BACKKKKKKK. midterms are finally over! but some requirements are still pending to be passed but overall, my schedule has finally gotten a bit looser. hope u liked this anonz, sorry for the wait!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"good. lift your elbows up a little more."

you obey, clutching your lightsaber tight as you fix your stance. hoping you did it right this time. there's a tug of a smile gracing his lips as qimir observes you from where you stand. determined as ever to learn.

"relax your grip. not too tight on the hilt, you may never know when to switch hands in a fight." he fishes out his own saber, showing you the relaxed grip he has. you listen, doing the same. he admires these times, now that his need to hide his identity from you wasn't of need anymore, training you became more... comforting.

"yes, master." you nod, and he lightens at your strong will.

"good. now, don't think of your weapon as a weapon. treat it as an extension of you. we'll practice now." he softly says, the waves crashing in the background making this lesson more relaxing. "you have already mastered the forms i have taught you. next step, we will be sparring. and i will be your opponent."

"oh..." there's a flash of uncertainty on your face. you didn't expect your first spar to be with him.

"are you worried for me?" he jokes, and you roll your eyes.

"i think i'm more worried for myself, master." you say back with a sarcastic tone. he chuckles as he lights his saber, the crimson glow catching your eyes. you always admired how he fights, and now that you'll experience it first-hand, you are a bit worried.

"you don't need to." he grins, readying his stance as he lifts his arm up, the crimson light illuminating his face as he looks at you with a shine in his eyes. "i'll be gentle."

your heart skips a beat at his tone. you merely nod, still uncertain if you should go full-on with an attack you had in mind. you don't want to hurt him.

"you take the offensive. i will defend myself." he motions you to start. you steadied yourself, feeling your saber in your hand, the force flowing through you. qimir stands still, waiting for your move. and you start, swiftly doing a normal slash and it clashes with his saber. the familiar sound of two beaming lights hitting. he watches you, even though he's now fastly defending himself, how quick you are to change forms. just like him, his attacks were rough and hard, with no mercy to place upon a real enemy. he's proud, even though he knows you still are holding back from him to unleash your potential.

"defend yourself now!" he shouts between clashes of your sabers. both crimson lights illuminating your faces. he takes the initiative to procure his own offense, teaching you to quickly defend yourself. and just like that, you two are moving in a tandem. you dodge his attack to your neck, and he dodges your uppercut. he admires your passive face, loving the way you are exceeding his expectations as his acolyte.

the situation escalates quickly. he sees that you are determined to strike him down, and this fuels him to unleash half of his real strength in a fight. but you retaliate, watching his every move, but not focusing entirely too much. he's surprised now as you dodge his slash quickly, and you pop up from behind him. he turns around, and then he sees it, you holding up your saber, putting all your strength in it. his eyes widened for a moment, a flash of a memory peering into his mind. one he had forgotten but resurfaced out of all times.

"master-" you faltered, and he quickly fixed himself as he took in your distracted face. his saber was about to slice your chest, but you quickly deflected his attack, stumbling back. he's at a distance from you now. your chest heaves, and so does his. he shakes his head as he turns off his saber, tucking it to his belt.

"do not falter even for a moment." he firmly said. "in a real fight, there is no time to think. do not always rely on your saber, use your connection with the force. i almost plunge my saber into your chest."

"but... i-i almost-" you stuttered, turning off your saber. you almost injured him.

"i would have defended myself with your attack." he sighs. "you need to stop holding back. you were excellent, but i need to see more of what you are hiding in there." he points to you. you only nod silently. he then softens his face, seeing you disappointed with yourself again. he walks towards you, and you nervously look up at him.

"don't doubt yourself. you were great." he takes your hand holding your saber to his.

"i don't think i can kill someone." you confessed, the comfort of his warmth making you vulnerable. "is that bad?"

"no." he shakes his head, putting his other hand on top of yours. "mercy is a kindness. but it is not a necessity. remember, the enemy will think of killing you, as you are as well."

"i understand." you nod, looking away from him, still ashamed. qimir still observes you, wondering how you still have more humanity left in you than him. and how soft he has become than before to you.

"have you been practicing with the rocks?" he asks. another thing he had to verse you in is your connection with the force. you had trouble using your emotions to put more power in yourself. you were still hesitant to put your rage in, and he knows you choose not to use it.

"yes." you say, he then touches the side of your face, ushering you to look at him. "i'm not...- it still didn't work."

"that's alright." he sighs, admiring your pretty face. "we'll work on it."

・゜゜・．

"but master-"

"you will listen to me." qimir shuts you up as your face contorts into a series of emotions ranging from confusion to nervousness. his robotic voice sends shivers down your spine as he opens the starship's door. you gulped, how things escalated so quickly. days after your sparring session, qimir had planned a quick trip and a lesson for you on some planet in the outer rim. things were going smoothly, yet the moment he felt his former master's presence lurking, everything fell into shambles. and now here you are, begging him that you should come with him as he will confront his own painful past.

"you take a step outside this ship. i will knock you out." he threatens, his own emotions going into disarray. despite the fear coursing through him at the thought of vernestra, he knew he had to do this. he had to face his last obstacle towards true freedom. you stand there, silent, your eyes watering at the thought that he might not even come back. you stuttered, wanting to tell him something, but he swiftly exited, holding his saber tight in his fist. he wanted to look back at you, knowing it might be his last, but he willed himself not to as he ignored your pleading stare.

the starship's door slowly closes, and the last thing you see is his figure getting smaller and smaller from where you stand.

he walks, each step he takes is a step closer towards his imminent death- or his absolution. he closes his eyes momentarily behind his mask, imagining your face. a surge of determination floods through him.

he will not die.

but…

“surrender now!” his former master’s voice roared through the dense forest. he shuddered, clutching his wounded side as he shakily held himself up. vernestra glares at him, her purple sabe-whip taunting him. he shakily lets out a breath, his own resolve crumbling as blood seeps into his black robes.

he can’t do it.

he can’t.

it repeats in his mind, this very scenario haunting him as he remembers how he got his scar. his hand shakes, and the saber in his other hand is still tightly held. but his own body is telling him to stop. he shakes his head, choosing to use the force to push her back to gain some leverage. he can't give up now. not when you are still on the planet, and if he fails, she'll take you next. he refuses to surrender now, vernestra countered his move, swiftly dodging his last resort, raising her saber up as a look of sadness crossed her face for a moment.

“you leave me no choice.” she says as he is thrown back as she jumps towards him, ready to land her final blow.

his eyes widened for a moment; flashes of your face and the recent memory of you two sparring calm him. he doesn’t want to feel fear before vernestra finishes him. his heart stops for a moment as he watches his former master near him, her purple saber flashing through his eyes just like before. him begging for her to stop, he was so young-

but it doesn’t happen.

he sees his former master get thrown to the side roughly before she can whip her saber. he stumbles back, sitting on the cold ground as he clutches his bleeding side. vernestra makes a strained noise as her back hits the tree behind her hard. his chest heaves as he looks at the offender who managed to catch his former master off-guard.

and there you were.

your hand is still stretched out as you ignite your saber in your other hand. he is stunned for a moment, feeling the raw power of the force emanating within you. your aura crawls through his body and he shivers at that. but what shocks him more is that visceral look of fury plastered on your face. he wants to say something as he tries to reach out to you, but it's cut off as he hears vernestra shout something at you. he can't focus, the shock in his body is slowly fading, and he's close to passing out from the lack of blood. he hastily removes his helmet as a last resort to see you fully. and his eyes are presented with a gruesome scene of you dueling his former master.

you, his timid acolyte, wreaking havoc for him.

before the darkness takes him, the last thing he sees, and he doesn't know if it's a figment of his muddled mind, he sees you appear swiftly from his master's behind- as quick and brutal as you shove your crimson saber down, and he hears his former's master gurgled voice. his eyes blink, his vision getting blurry, he breathes out your name as the darkness sweetly takes him.

・゜゜・．

he groans awake... the soft embrace of a warm blanket is the first sensation he feels. the second is a dull but painful sensation on the lower side of his abdomen. he groans at that, his eyes blinking as his vision adjusts to the dim light in the room. he's back in the starship from what he can blindly make out. his mouth is dry as he mumbles something out as his vision sets. his heart thumps as he finally sees you, sitting by the edge of the bed, looking at him softly. the contrast of how your expression was moments ago as he remembered, a swell of pride engulfs him.

"hey... try not to sit up." you say softly in greeting. "we don't have a bacta patch in the ship... so i bandaged your wound." you explained as you stood up, fetching him some water.

"wait." he weakly stops you, reaching his arm out at you. you obeyed, walking near him.

"yes, master?" you asked gently.

"you did well." he offers a weak smile. "i'm proud of you. even though you disobeyed my orders."

you blink, a little shocked, but you smile as well. "i learned from the best."

he chuckles at that, the irony of how "the best" almost surrendered to his former master in a weak moment. you sense the distress from him as you sit down next to him. he watches you, observing your next move.

"i mean it." you say, qimir stays silent as he shakes his head. "you taught me not to fear... and i finally did learn. and i wasn't going to leave you at the hands of her... you gave me the strength."

the shine in your eyes of genuineness has him melting. he takes a moment to look at you of how close you are as his hand comes up to grasp your hand on your lap. there's a moment of silence wherein you two just stare at each other in comfort. the danger was finally at rest. the thought of his former master was now gone... though, he did grieve what was before. he smiles, rubbing circles on your skin as he softly whispers back.

"and i you."

#qimir #qimir x reader #the stranger #the stranger x reader #manny jacinto #the acolyte #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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moonstruksandco · 4 months ago

Text

⋆｡devil i know 𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PROLOGUE ; PLAYING GOD

pairing : mob!stucky x mob!reader

summary : your father risked his life for somebody else, now you have to work for him and his best friend

warnings : eventual smut (hehehehe) ; soft mean bucky (meaner reader) and steve ; hard headed reader with a violence problem ; meaner bucky, colder steve ; classism ; daddy issues ; hella violence ; fem!reader ; trailerpark!reader

a/n : yeeaaaaaaaaaaaaa i'm sort of out of my mind writing this, cuz i have a an unfinished tvd chap in drafts but i couldn't help myself, the daydreams went CRAZZYYYYY and I miss infinity war steve and cap and winter soilder look! this is dedicated to my sun ; reblogs and feedback are loved and appreciated

Its ridiculous

And you think you don’t care.

Well.

Its hard to ease into it, but you still know you should.

He sacrificed himself for someone else.

Took a bullet for someone else.

Someone that was never going to be you.

And now, he’s in front of you.

Not the one striving for his life, the one who got to live.

You know this life well. And you thrive on it. Born to fight, raised to live.

But never for him.

“He told me to watch over you,” He says with his golden hair and beard, looking at you seriously.

His eyes are too blue.

His office, or what he chooses to show face in, is cold. Everything is white or beige. Big open windows behind him, desk and monitor shining on his face.

“So…I have to work? For you. That were his last words?” Before he became a vegetable, you don’t say.

You’re clad in attire that almost didn’t even get you into his floor. Theres an oversized leather jacket draped over the chair next to you, denim skirt, groza strapped right underneath (and another in said jacket), white tank and low top sneakers ;because its blazing outside, obviously. Sweat still sticking, mind the very ventilated room.

You think back;

“I’m just here to see Steve Rogers,” you say to the point of exhaustion to the receptionist - secretary whatever.

You think if she was more gentle and nice about it, you would’ve given her grace. But she wasn’t, and hasn’t.

“Yes, but I told you I’ve spoken to him on the phone, and I’ve shown you the number that I could see you obviously recognized, plus the text he sent to come at this time.”

She rolls her eyes.

You decide you’re going to maim her.

“I’ve heard this all before,” She responds in a bored tone, “If you’re not on the sched-”

You’re beginning to pull out the dagger under your skirt.

A hand stops you.

“She’s fine. Let us up.”

You immediately pull on his wrist in retaliation. You think you’re about to break it, but he meets yours eyes.

Eyes to blue. But ones you don’t recognize.

And he stands by Steve now, hands clasped on his front.

You think he said he said his name was Bucky in the silent elevator.

He continues, “I’m not going to take whats owed to yo-”

“Well, he wanted you to, no?” you finish.

You cross your arms, leaning back slightly in the chair. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Steve sighs, look away from you, then back to you. “We need you to keep doing what you do best. But this time, for a cause that matters.”

“And that cause is…?” You sit up, confusion evident.

He stalls, as if confused. “You’re father.”

You slack by down, not amused and definitely not interesting

Steve continues, “Just pretend to be my assistant, do what you do best for him, and I’ll protect you.”

You laugh, a short, bitter sound that echoes in the sterile room. "Protect me?” He must be joking.”I think I’ll be fine without it.”

“You know who your father is, right?”

Your face morph into something close to irration.

Its not Steve, its the other blue eyes, and you look straight into his eyes, Bucky you think, “Did I stutter?”

The tension in the room thickens, Steve interjects, placing his palm up to interrupt whatever his (Bucky?) rebuttal was, “This isn’t just about you. It’s about preventing something bigger.”

Your eyes leave a pair of blues, to meet another;

Steve continues, “No one knows what happened. If they know the state he’s in, or even wher-”

“So what? I play assistant

“Exactly.” His shadow says.

You don’t like Bucky.

“You already have one. The bitchy one.”

Steve sighs, “You’re just a cover. You’ll be doing the real work.”

You lean back again, contemplating. "Fine. But if this goes south, I'm out," you say, standing up grabbing your coat.

Steve nods, "Understood,” He stands up when you do respectfully. We start tomorrow."

You scoff again opening the door to exit, “We start next Monday.”

The door closes behind you with a soft click, leaving Steve and Bucky in a tense silence.

Bucky turns to Steve, "Are you sure about this?"

Steve nods, "She was his right hand” He looks back at the seat you were sat on.”No ones going to do it as best as her.”

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

working on chap 2 ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

#stucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!steve rogers #mob!stucky x reader #mob!steve x mob!reader x mob!bucky #mob!steve x mob!bucky x mob!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve x reader x bucky #steve x bucky x reader #bucky x reader x steve #bucky x steve x reader #steve r ;#bucky ;#devil i knoww ;

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everythingne · 1 year ago

Text

marketing ploy — LN4 / ch.2

Saudi and Aussie. How bad can it go? Well, bad enough for Max and Charles to start asking questions. And maybe for Lando’s behavior to be a little off.

piastri!oc x lando norris / fake dating, brothers best friend

warnings/notes: no big warnings other than some language, probably inaccurate f1 info (spare me here), written while sleep deprived

prev | next

18 MARCH 2023 - JEDDAH, SAUDI ARABIA ↴

The Saudi Arabian heat burns across my shoulders as I duck into McLarens paddock behind Oscar. The tanktop I'm wearing doing nothing to help regulate the heat under my uniform shirt that I've unbuttoned and have tucked at my elbows. Oscar takes a long swig of his now empty water bottle before tossing it away and giving Lando a hug over the shoulder.

"Ready to die in this heat?" He asks, making Lando snort and nearly spit out his water. I giggle as Lando coughs after swallowing and find myself stepping up to stand right next to Oscar, peering up at Lando through my eyelashes as a few cameras click in our direction. It’s certainly odd for me to be here, and not already tucked away in Red Bull’s paddock. Hopefully other people notice that.

"I'm trying not to, man." Lando shakes the sweat of his water bottle in Oscar's direction, making him shriek and wipe the icy water off his face. I can hear the more of the media teams and reporters in the paddocks approaching, almost like a weird sixth sense.

"Morning, Mini Piastri." Lando leans down and gives me a proper hug, one I'm not expecting, but nonetheless I kindly return it. Reminding myself of the contract I'd signed nearly a month ago.

God, it had been a month already?

"Morning, Norris." I step back, adjusting my hair with a tiny giddy smile I let myself easily fake. He looks at me like I've hung the moon and stars for him, and I'm shocked at how easily he can fall into faking utter and complete love. He's a natural.

Someone calls Lando over from the other side of the paddock and as he excuses himself, he places a hand on my lower back as he moves behind me, and it lingers. His fingers glide along the fabric of my shirt, nails scratching at the skin underneath enough to make me look over my shoulder at him as he looks at me one last time before fully stepping away to whichever engineer had called his attention.

"When do you have to be with Red Bull?" Oscar asks, drawing my attention back to him as I try to swallow the blush on my face, "to see your second brother."

"You're so dramatic about Max." I laugh, punching his arm, "and not for another like... ten or so minutes, Kaycee, who works under me. She’s running all the analytic stuff this morning. She's gonna move up to be a co-head analyst."

"Oh! She’s the one with the red hair right? She's so sweet." Oscar takes a water from a worker who hands us both plastic bottles, and Lando ends up snaking back over and taking me by the wrist as Oscar is called over in his place. As Oscar turns away, Lando pulls me back to a far corner and lets me rest against it as he hovers in front of me. Shielding me from view.

"So, how exactly are we handling media?" He says, "like paparazzi?"

"I guess we should just act the same?" I hum, looking over at a few media personnel who hover around the car, the team, and Oscar. The paddocks are slowly buzzing to life as everyone's arriving for the day.

"Then, you have to act like you like me a little bit, Ollie." Lando leans in a bit, breath fanning across my cheeks and I tilt my head up to challenge him. But before I can say anything in retaliation my phone rings with a call from Christian.

"Gotta go, Nori." I smirk, poking his chest as I lean up into his personal space, lips inches apart. He looks down at my lips for half a second, before I step back and call over my shoulder as I leave,

"Tell Oscar I said good luck!"

Luckily no one had passed out at training.

I'm standing at the edge of the paddock, laughing as I flick water at a very heat-exhausted Max Verstappen. He'd done just as well as I had expected him to, everything with the car working just as we had expected, but once again he skews my data with faster laps than I've seen in his car ever.

This rivalry thing was going to cost someone a car at some point.

"Hey, Livie!" A voice shouts, and I turn to see Oscar. Considering he's the only one allowed to call me that, I can't even feign surprise at his sudden appearance outside the Red Bull paddock. Still in race gear. Fuckin’ Aussie.

"Ossie!" I grin back, and Max crosses his arms and wipes sweat from his hairline with a towel as Oscar approaches.

"Hey, Max." He says, wiping sweat from his face with the sleeve of his undershirt. Whistling to get my brothers attention, I toss him a plain white towel, a spare I had tucked in my pocket. I swear Oscar almost melts with appreciation when he sees it and then prompty wipes his entire face down.

"Good to see you, Oscar." Max nods, leaning on the shaded wall adjacent to me. He's been out of his gear for a while, considering he has almost thrown up from the heat twice today. We had pretty much shoved it off of him as soon as he was done with training.

"You weren't answering your phone, and I needed to give you your stuff, so I came over to tell you I've gotta stay late, they're making sure somethings not overheating or something." He tosses me a hotel key and my purse from his passenger seat, I can tell his vagueness is due to whatever issue there is probably being not fully explained. Or because Max is here, because he's usually tell me everything.

"I'll catch a ride back, no worries." I pat his shoulder and he nods, lifting his phone to his face and groaning. I can see Andrea's contact on his screen and I laugh softly at his clearly exhausted expression.

"Gotta go, again, see you for dinner?" He starts backing up and I nod.

"Seven, sharp!" I shout and he nods before turning and just taking off in a run before I see him vanish into the McLaren paddock, which is only separated from Red Bull by Williams, so it's not terribly far. Max and I stand in quiet for a few moments before I hear some keys jingle and look over to see Charles tossing his keys to Max. The two share a quick greeting as I readjust and tip the last drops of my water bottle into my mouth.

"Need a ride back?" Max asks as I lower the bottle, but a whistle takes my attention sideways where I see Lando approaching.

"Nope. See you guys tomorrow!" I cheekily grin, slipping off the wall to approach Lando who twirls his car keys absentmindedly. He smiles at my approach, adjusting his bag as he stops so I can meet him midway.

"Nice to see you, Ollie..You need a ride home, right?" He grins, placing a hand on my lower back once more and I lean up to tuck a stray hair back against the others.

"You too." I say, peeking behind me to see Max and Charles watching the two of us interact and a small idea pops in my head, "yeah, actually."

"Perfect." Lando's eyes lift to look at Max and Charles, and seconds later he's escorting me by the small of my back out of the paddocks. "Starting strong, aren't we?"

I can't help but laugh, hiding my mouth with my hand as we slip into the car park as we peacefully walk along various other racers whose eyes linger on Lando's hand a bit too long.

"Really strong, it seems." I say as he opens the passenger door to his car and I step in as if it's normal for this to happen, wasting no time settling in as he shuts the door and god damn why is that actually so hot?

As Lando settles next to me in the car, shutting his door, he smiles over at me.

"At least they can't say we aren't keeping up our end of the deal."

—

19 MARCH 2023 — TWITTER ↴

URF1NEWS: LANDO NORRIS was spotted yesterday leaving the track, and coming back today with OLIVIA PIASTRI at the Saudi Arabia GP. With tensions at an all time high between Red Bull and McLaren, you can’t tell me you arent wondering what this might mean.

567k LIKES, 350k RETWEETS.

no.rizz: adam sandler what are u doing here??

mclarensnumba1: they have to be dating be so serious.

ferawrri: brothers best friend ‼️‼️

monacosbtch: i think they did it but i just can’t prove it.

norris4: OLIVIA AND LANDO??? BE SO SERIOUS ILL SOB. FREE FLOW TEARS.

30 MARCH 2023 — CALL BETWEEN ADA AND OLIVIA ↴

“Welcome home, Miss Piastri.”

“Morning, Ada.”

“You and Lando need to start pushing this rhetoric of your dating a bit harder. Astrid is already speaking with him about it but we need a strong push here in Australia. It’s you and Oscar’s home race after all.”

“Were the paparazzi photos of me getting into his car not enough?”

“Oh they were, but we really wanna cement it.”

“So… what are you asking of me?”

“Today, Lando has been instructed to drive you to the track with a gift.”

“A gift? Like what?”

“You’ll see. But, we expect you to post that gift on your public instagram story. Preferably with some sort of McLaren indication—the orange hearts work well.”

“Christ. Okay, what else?”

“Oh. it’s time for the soft launch and the pictures in his team shirt. I’ll find you before the race tonight with more details.”

“Great…”

—

Lando’s luckily not in a papaya orange car this time. A black SUV fits him well, and will hopefully blend us in a bit more.

“Morning, Ollie.” he says as I climb in, Oscar somewhere behind me in the hotel still. I yawn in response, waving as I settle in the seat before I notice what he’s holding.

“Oh, Ada was serious.” I laugh at the little bouquet of flowers he holds towards me. They’re daises, my favorite flower, and then some yellow chrysanthemums and little pink roses sit behind them.

“She just said to get the daises.” Lando hands the flowers to me, and I happily take them, and then I notice one final thing resting in the cup holder.

“The girl at the coffee place I stopped at was a McLaren fan, so I asked her to write a ‘cute note for my girlfriend’ on the lid.” his voice lifts in octave as he recounts his words and then he lifts the little coffee in his cup holder so I can see it. That gesture alone makes me swoon just a little bit harder.

“Damn. My real boyfriend after this is gonna have some competition.” I giggle, taking the coffee from his hands and repositioning so I can snap a photo for instagram. He laughs in response to what I say, but I hear the leather of his steering wheel squeak as he grips it a bit tighter.

“Yeah. Boyfriend.” I swear I hear him mutter, but when I ask what he said, he swears he said nothing—so the conversation gets dropped there as he pulls out away from the hotel.

—

OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY! ↴

MCLARENRACING MADE A NEW POST! ↴

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 965k others…

mclarenracing: @ oliviapiastri visiting the paddock is always a good luck charm. Wishing the best home race for our Piastri siblings!

ryoooraces: NUMBER WHAT NOW??

oliviapiastri: always lovely to see you guys 🧡

no.rizz: IS THAT LANDOS FUCKING JACKET.

logansargeant: gears are turning.

— williamsbaby: LOGAN BE ONE OF US!!!

—

“Charles?” I pause in the doorway to my office, a Red Bull in my hands, bag and purse over one shoulder. The thick jacket I wear making my arms—which hold the flowers, an empty coffee cup, and files I couldn’t fit in my purse tightly to my chest. Both him and Max are pressed along the wall where the door opens and in my rush, I nearly whacked Charles with the door as I kicked it open.

“I have a question.” Max states as soon as I’ve plopped my mess of stuff on my desk, and I hold up a finger as I chug the rest of my lemon Red Bull, make a face, and toss the can along with a coffee cup in the tiny trash can under the desk.

“Well, I do too.” I turn to both men before kneeling down to grab an empty vase from my cabinet along with a stray pair of scissors, “so, fire away.”

“Why are you spending so much time with McLaren?” Max asks as I start moving my files and such to my chair so I can cut and put the flowers in their new temporary home before they live on my mothers kitchen window until their inevitable death, “it’s usually impossible for you to leave the paddock here unless Oscar himself comes and drags you away.”

“And the Lando jacket?” Charles tacks on at the end, smacking Max’s shoulder as if they’d agreed to mention it. The two are as close and you can be at this point, so I’m not surprised at their brotherly antics. I can tell that the two of them have taken it upon themselves to figure out what exactly is going on, just as brothers—or in my case sisters, do.

Oh, a perfect opportunity just appeared in front of me. A way to really get the ball rolling on this whole ‘dating’ thing.

“It’s nothing serious.” I wave a hand, sorting the flowers into the vase with one hand. I shrug off the new Lando Norris varsity jacket merch once it gets too hot, plopping it on the back of my chair.

“Really?” Charles says with a dangerous curiosity in his tone that only makes me smile wider as I keep cutting stems, and popping flowers into the vase. I glance up once I’m done with the daises, eyes challenging Max’s and Charles’ sharp, curious gazes for half a second before I stand fully and let a fake, giddy, nervous smile cross my face.

“Maybe…” I ponder saying it, feeling heat rise to my face naturally as I imagine the way Lando grins at me whenever he sees me walking up, or the way his warm hand feels on my back as he guides me, “a certain McLaren driver has caught my eye.”

The two stare at me for a second, before there’s overlapping shouts with accents so thick in the heat of the moment I can barely understand a word being said.

“Good lord!” I shout through them and dissolve into laughter, Max smacks a hand on my desk—pointing at me.

“So you are dating him?” he asks and I immediately shake my head.

“No, no. Again, it’s nothing serious.” I reply as calmly as I can, feeling a bit bad for lying but knowing in the end no one would be hurt. It wasn’t even like I actually loved Lando, I just liked the way he pretended to be my boyfriend. It was… really cute.

“But he buys you flowers and coffee, you wear his merch, visit him instead of Oscar, he drives you everywhere—is that not dating?” Charles says, crossing his arms over his Ferrari team shirt, “and why are you both being so sneaky about it?”

“He’s a friend for now, guys, and we aren’t really being sneaky!” I sigh as I finish up with the small amount of roses and chrysanthemums, beginning to organize the flowers to hide the shakiness of my hands.

I hate lying so much. If it’s this bad with Max and Charles, the conversation I’m going to have with Oscar will be unbearable.

“Well.” Max pauses, and Charles shrugs, “I guess it’s fine.”

“Wait—are you giving me your approval of Lando? Like a brother?”

“We both are.” Charles makes his way to the doorway, grabbing the handle to the door and stepping out, “he’s a good kid!”

I stare after Charles for a few seconds before my gaze lifts to Max, who grins at me.

“And now half of the Red Bull garage owes us money. Thanks.” He punches my shoulder and as he’s leaving the words register and I can only shout at his retreating form—

“—You guys bet on this?!”

#formula one #lando norris #lando norris x oc #ln4 fic #ln4 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris fic #nicole wrote this

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ramp-it-up · 2 years ago

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All I Want

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.4 K

Summary: Steve has left you alone for a week with no explanation. Will you let him back into your life?

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. A lot of FLUFF Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. A slap on the face, organized crime, implied violent retaliation, Bucky’s arm injury implied, Steve simping for reader, reader watching porn, sloppy toppy, gagging, swallowing, coached masturbation, oral (m/f receiving) fingering, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is a bonus for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask and any other requests for a part 2 to Try a Little Tenderness. Here it is babes, I hope you like it as much as the first part. Happy New Year! 🍾

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Sam came, and he watched as you paced in your closed store the first day after the dust up at DUMBO. He told you minimal information, just that Bucky was alive and that he was going to stay there per Steve’s ‘request’ until he asked him to leave.

“I’m opening my store today.”

“No. You are not.”

Sam was usually nice, with that beautiful smile on display whenever he picked up Steve’s gifts. But now, he was steadfast.

You were hot. Not only at Steve for not telling you the whole story, but at everyone.

You couldn’t just sit around all day. You walked up to Sam and stood toe to toe.

“Take off that expensive jacket.”

You had an apron with the store logo in your hand.

Hours later, Sam took a break from helping you do store inventory to take a call. You kept working as he stepped into the back room. Then, you walked back to listen.

You peeked around your corner to see Sam letting out a sigh of relief.

“Good. At least that’s progress? He squeezed your hand?”

He paused.

“I know he has a long way to go, but you know Buck’s a fighter.”

“…Yes. Steve. I’m trying, but you know she’s stubborn…She’s okay. She’s a pistol, and she’s working me to death. She’s pissed at you though. At all of us. Yeah… I don’t think I can protect you from that. I’ll tell her it will be a while…”

You went back to your spreadsheet feeling some kind of way. Steve had time to call Sam, but not you. Okay.

Sam stepped out of the back room.

“Bucky’s alive. He was very badly injured, his left arm is…”

Sam paused, looking at you warily.

You looked back at him relieved, yet anxious at the same time.

“Let’s just say that he has a long road.”

You nodded and swallowed.

“What about Steve?”

You hated yourself for asking Sam. You should have been talking to Steve. But you couldn’t help it.

“He’s fine. Just has some… work to do right now.”

Your stomach dropped and you lifted your chin.

“What Steve does with his time has nothing to do with me, Sam. I don’t own him and he certainly does not own me.”

You were ready to fight.

“It’s not like we’re in a relationship. Steve’s fine, Bucky’s alive. So you can go now.”

You looked him in the eye so that he could get the message.

Sam shook his head.

“That’s not gonna happen Y/N.”

You glared at him.

“Tell your Boss that I’m sending you back.”

Sam advanced upon you, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Learn this, Y/N. Steve’s not my Boss. He’s my friend, and just like Bucky, he’s my partner. I'm doing him a favor making sure you’re alright. That’s what friends do. You can’t send me back.”

You two stared at each other. This must be what it was like to have a brother.

“You know you’re very annoying.”

“Same, lady.”

You fought the urge to laugh and wanted to stick your tongue out at him.

“Get back to work. We have the entire stockroom to count.”

Sam shook his head and obliged.

Six days later, on Christmas Eve, the bell rang, signaling someone opening the door. You turned with a smile to greet the customer to see Steve standing there.

It was liked the wind was knocked out of you.

Steve stood there, staring at you, looking very tired, but with those same sparkling blue eyes. And he had the nerve to smile at you.

“Can I have the usual?”

He was a sight for sore eyes. You’d spent the week worried and frustrated, in addition to mad as hell. But he looked so damn good.

You walked over to Steve, and gazed up at him as he beamed down on you. You did the only thing you could think to do.

You slapped him.

“How dare you!”

Sam, who was in his apron behind the register, audibly gasped, because it didn’t end well with the last woman who slapped Steve. She’d ended up climbing out of a dumpster where Steve had unceremoniously placed her.

You looked over at Sam.

“Here is your friend, Sam. Talk to him. Because I certainly won’t.”

Steve’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he rubbed his face. That fire pent up inside you signaled a need for release. He watched you hungrily as you left, then turned back to Sam.

You stormed upstairs toward your apartment, hearing the beginnings of thier conversation.

“I thought we agreed to keep the store closed, Sam.”

“Well, the store’s owner might have a little to say to that. Have you ever tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do?…”

You went upstairs, straight to the kitchen, reaching for your liquor cabinet. It was only noon, but you needed a drink.

You heard the door open behind you and did not turn around. You heard his steps into the kitchen, but you were immovable.

“Pour me one?”

You reached for a glass and slammed it down on the counter next to you, then poured some Uncle Nearest into it. You still didn’t look at him, but you shivered as he stepped behind you, nearly touching you to reach around for the glass, but only sharing his body heat.

“I deserve your anger, Ambrosia, But at the beginning, I genuinely thought that you knew who I was. I mean….”

You spun around, eyes full of fire, facing down Steve’s desire for you. And there was something else in his eyes. But you launched in nevertheless.

“At no time over dinner, or while you were sweet talking me into bed, did you mention that you were the head of an international crime organization. And then you put my business in danger. And apparently my life???”

Steve sighed and scrubbed his face.

“I know you’re angry, Baby, but you gotta listen to me.”

You closed your mouth and crossed your arms.

Steve’s face softened. At least you weren’t running away.

“I said at the beginning I thought you knew who I was. But then I realized that you didn’t know me as Steve Rogers the big bad dude, I was just that one customer who was sweet on you and sent gifts. And that made me fall for you even more.”

When he said ‘fall for you,’ your eyes went to his.

“Yeah, I said it.”

“Steve…”

You were trying to remain upset, but he was so sincere. Your resolve was weakening.

“Fall for me? You haven’t spoken to me in a week, Steve. You called Sam every day but…”

“I had work to do. Bucky was injured and he was touch and go. And I had to take care of… I had to take care of some things.”

He looked at you and slowed down.

“You had work to do? So did I. But you told me to close my store. You couldn’t have taken a few minutes to call, to text? I figured I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought.”

You looked down at your dirty chucks, and at Steve’s Ferragamos.

Steve moved closer and tilted your head up by your chin. The electricity from his fingers was almost too much.

“No, Ambrosia.”

Steve’s eyes were wild now, and desperate. He wanted you to understand so badly, but he knew it would seem outlandish.

“You mean so much more. I fell for you because there were no expectations. I kept buying you gifts and you kept sending them back. And I thought you didn’t want me. But then when I asked you on a date and you accepted, I realized that…”

“…That all I want is you.”

You looked up at him and bit your lip. Steve could hardly contain himself.

“I can listen to you, Steve. And I would have listened if you called.”

Steve leaned down and kissed your lips softly. He groaned when you yielded to him, opening your mouth and peeking out your little tongue. He wanted to ravage you, but first, you had to understand.

“You’ve got to know. You’ve got to know that you change me Ambrosia. With you I am a different man. I couldn’t call you because you make me weak.”

Steve kissed your frown and started talking again.

“With you, weak is a good thing. I am gentle, I am kind. I am patient.”

Steve looked into your eyes.

“I am in love.”

You gasped.

“Steve…”

“You gotta listen. When I left, all I could think about, besides Bucky, was you. Your smile, your wit, your laugh, your body. How it felt to make love to you. To be inside you. To make you cum. Do you remember, do you remember how it felt?”

You smiled and nodded, playing with the St. Christopher’s medal around his neck.

“Look at me. Do you remember? Use your words.”

You clenched at his command. And you obeyed.

“Yes, Steve. I remember. I was sore for three days.”

Your admission and the new huskiness in your voice made him pull you closer and you could feel the pulsing in his pants. You also felt his heart beating in his chest.

“Fuck, Ambrosia. You make me wanna ruin you again.”

The way you looked at him indicated that you wanted the same. Steve felt his knees almost give out. He chuckled.

“See? You make me weak in the knees. Thoughts of you make me soft. And for what I had to do, I couldn’t be. D’you understand?”

You tried to think rationally. You knew what he was saying without saying it. He had to do horrible things. You watched the news this past week. You knew what Steve was responsible for. But you didn’t care. Bucky was always nothing but kind to you. And he was Steve’s best friend.

You thought about what you would have done in this situation. You looked back up at Steve.

“I understand.”

You bit your lip again.

“And I am still standing here with you because it is too late for me to tell you to leave. I endured Sam sleeping on my couch for a week and protecting me because I love you too, Steve. I think I have been in love with you for months now. And then, last week...”

Your hands moved to slip his jacket off his shoulders, kneading them and feeling the tension there. Steve’s eyes sought yours again.

“You love me too?”

“Yes, are you tired?”

“Exhausted, but… You want me to stay?”

“Yes…”

Your hand was on the outside of Steve’s pants, grasping his hardness and making him groan, knowing that he was leaking in his underwear. His hands moved up your sides and lifted you up to sit on the counter.

He dove into your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you gentle kisses that made you arch your back and your breasts into his chests. Then, he started sucking hickeys into you as his hands came up to knead and grasp you, and to tease your nipples with his thumbs.

“All week I’ve gone to bed and woken up rock hard to visions of you. Didn’t wanna jack off. I need you Ambrosia. Need to see you cum again. Need to bury myself deep inside you. Need for you to hug me in all the ways. Need to see your beautiful body. Need to sleep with you in my arms. I’m tired. Tired of being without you.”

You nuzzled his ear, knowing that the only important thing right now was his need. And yours.

“Sounds like you need me to suck your dick.”

You felt bold because he wasn’t looking at you.

The man literally growled in your ear and then picked you up, still wrapped around him like a vine, and carried you to your bedroom. He sat you down on your bed and looked down on you as you looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

Steve made sure to hold your head up so you could look him in the eye. Your eyes watered as you licked your lips and took a deep breath.

“I said, I want to suck your dick.”

“That’s… what I thought you said.”

Steve continued to hold your head by your chin, and stuck his thumb in your mouth as he undid his pants. You squirmed as you got wet at the sound of his belt clanging on the floor and sucked his thumb like it was going out of style.

Steve could hardly catch his breath for anticipation and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He looked down at you as he pumped his massively hard cock in your face.

“I want to be very, very rough with you, but I’m not going to hurt you, Baby. You want this?”

Steve moved himself to within an inch of your lips.

“Please…”

You made to move closer, but he held you fast. You almost felt his dick jump when you saw it. You squirmed again.

��Can you take it?”

You managed to extend your tongue and collect the drops of precum on his tip, making Steve shiver as his blazing eyes looked down on you.

“Fuck my face…”

“Holy!”

Steve grabbed both sides of your head as you opened wide and accepted him into your mouth.

“That hot little mouth, holy shit, Ambrosia. How do you…”

You concentrated and allowed him to push past your tonsils to your throat, then suckled him as he pulled out, tracing your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You ran your hands up his sides, tracing his v cut and abs upward under his shirt. Steve scrambled to take it off, and then pulled you off of him to take your shirt off.

“Where did you learn that?”

Steve raised his eyebrow as you grabbed for him again. He tried to be gentle, but you wouldn’t allow it, as you bottomed out again.

This time when you pulled off, gasping you said one word, “Porn,” and then started slurping sloppily again.

Steve stood there, head thrown back as you took his hips and went to town.

“Thank goodness for technology.”

You hummed your agreement, and then went for the gold.

“Ho-ho-holyyyyy. I’m gonna, fuckkkk Ambrosia, I’m gonna…”

You started gagging louder and finally, Steve took your head in order to use your mouth for his pleasure.

“It’s gonna be a lot… “

Steve was looking down on you with lust and you basked in it.

“You gonna swallow?”

You nodded eagerly, as Steve bared his teeth with an effort to hold back. You played with his balls, and he couldn’t anymore.

“Swallow like a good… fucking… girl…”

With those three thrusts, Steve sent a torrent of spend past your lips. You gulped it down and Steve thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He fell to his knees and you hugged him, assenting to his kiss so that he could taste himself on you.

“Thank you for that. Now I can think straight.”

He moved to push you back on the bed.

“So, my sweet Ambrosia has been watching porn, huh?”

“I missed you Steve. Missed your cock.”

Steve shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so sorry.”

Steve was now taking off your shoes, pants, and panites. He kissed your thighs and spread your legs with his hands. He was looking deep into your intimate parts.

“My little sweet flower. Still so beautiful. But now she’s so sloppy.”

Those blue eyes looked at you, and your cheeks warmed.

“What happened?”

That deep voice.

“You know, Steve…”

“You like sucking my cock, yeah?”

“Yes, I do. Been dreaming of it.”

Steve grunted. His cock coming back to life at your words.

“You been touching yourself?”

“I have, but nothing compares to you. Didn’t know if I would see you again. Was thinking of getting a toy.”

Steve looked angry for a second.

“Never doubt, as long as I have breath in my body. You will see me again.”

His eyes flicked down your body, reminding you of possession.

“Show me how you touched yourself. I wanna watch. Will you let me watch you cum?”

You squirmed at the request.

“Ssteeevvveeee!”

“Don’t be shy. Look. I’ll join you.”

Steve leaned up on his elbow and started stroking his dick, making you wetter than you already were.

You bit your lip and slid your hands from your tits down your sides, one moving back up to play with your nipple, and the other finding your clit. You licked your lips as your fingers played in your slippery slit and lubricated your button. The sound was pornographic as your movements indicated how wet you were.

You watched as Steve opened his mouth and moved his hand faster.

“Put your fingers inside, baby. Pretend they’re mine.”

You shivered as you obeyed and your thumb tuned your body to a marvelous frequency with Steve watching. It was so erotic. You started to cum when Steve started moaning.

“How pretty. Y’look so pretty getting off. Pretty little fingers in that gorgeous hole. My sweet Ambrosia…”

He was descending toward your center, breath hot on your cunt. He inhaled deeply, taking in the essence of you.

“Let me be your toy…”

And his lips wrapped around your vibrating clitoris, sliding it between his lips quickly at first, causing you to jump, then, when his strong hands held your thighs open, he suckled it completely into his mouth and used his tongue to try and suck the life out of you.

You screamed and Steve slipped a finger inside your tight hole, thrusting gently at first, and then adding another finger and becoming more insistent in the quest for your orgasm.

You came very quickly, knees around his head before he pried them off and then held you open. Steve blew on your cunt to extend the sensations, and thrummed your clit while you begged him to stop. The quivers were extended as he came up and sucked your nipples, and pulling his hair only spurred him on longer.

When you finally, finally came down, your hoarse voice complained to,

“All my stars and heavens, Steve!”

“How can you be so fucking cute and so damn sexy at the same time. My dream girl.”

Steve kissed your forehead as you grabbed his cock and started pumping.

“Gimme.”

Steve tried to frown at you.

“So demanding.”

“Steve please.”

“You want this dick?”

Your breathy “Yes!” almost made him almost cum in your hand.

“You. Are going to be the death of me.”

Steve held your thighs in your hands and pushed them up beside you.

His stiff cock seemed to know the way home as he positioned himself at your entrance. He slid the thick head inside you as you keened as you knew his shaft was almost as thick.

“You okay, Baby?”

“Hnnngh.. Oh Steve…give me more…”

Steve almost exploded at your face and the way you were squeezing him.

“Okay.. I don’t really wanna… hurt…”

“Hurt me pleaseeeee.”

“Shiiiitttttttt.”

Steve slid into your very wet canal and stayed there as you wrapped all of your limbs around him as you got used to his girth again.

“I-I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum… inside… I can’t… you’re gripping me so… so so tight…”

“Mmmmmmghhh! Give me!”

And Steve started moving, slowly at first, and as you urged him on, faster and deeper.

“I had plans for how I was gonna… fuck…”

“Oh my god… Steve, I’m…”

“I wanted to go nice and slow… ohhhhhh…”

When he felt you quiver around him was when he started cumming.

“Fuck! It’s too soon… oh my god you feel so good…”

Steve buried his face into your neck, huffing and puffing as his cum spurted out of him and into your warm goodness. You felt every splash of his hot ejection inside you and briefly considered the consequences.

So did Steve.

“Oh shit, I came inside you.”

Steve looked pretty pleased with himself. You had to laugh.

“I can’t with you, Steve.”

“I believe you just did.”

You both chuckled as he kissed you and collapsed on the bed.

Steve pulled you close.

“Sam is probably down there dealing with customers…still got bills to pay. The lights, the mortgage…”

You were dumping the last thoughts out of your head as you were falling asleep.

“Not the mortgage anymore. Valkyrie bought it from Wells Fargo…”

Steve sighed and kissed you on the forehead, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

“Oh, ” You replied as you snuggled closer to him.

And both of you fell into the warm embrace of deep sleep for an afternoon nap.

READ Part three I WONDER

If you liked it, please reblog!

#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22 #ask dj #dj will answer #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x black reader x lloyd hansen #steve rogers fics #mob!steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss!steve #mob boss! steve rogers x reader #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson

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avatarloverfrfr · 9 months ago

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Dreamwalker Siblings

Chapter I: Cryo-sleep Masterlist Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora. Warnings: Mentions of death, reader is NOT excited at all, Constant reminder of deceased loved one. Word count: 3,6k

"You cannot ask this of us! Tommy is the scientist not us. He wanted to be shot light years into space, not us. We cannot do it." I shrieked, pleading with my brother for validation, but my cries were met with oppressive silence. His gaze fixed onto our fallen sibling, Tommy, robbed of life right before he went off to do the only thing that put a smile to his face. All sacrificed for the contents of his wallet.

"Your brother represented a significant investment, we'd urge you to accept taking over his contract." The man besides Jake had said, completely disregarding all that I had said. "I'm sure he would hate to have all his hard work go to waste, knowing someone so close to him would be able to continue his legacy." The second man, besides me, added with a curt nod.

Outrage boils within me at the audacity of these men, exploiting the loss of one of us, former triplets, as leverage against us. How dare they use Jake and I with their clear motives of greed, revealing to us that our worth to them is nothing but a budget they refuse to abandon.

"It'll be a fresh start, on a new world. And the pays good, very good." they said staring at Jake and I. Before I could even say something in retaliation. Jake had spoken for the first time that night. "We'll do it." Disbelief swept over me as I locked eyes with him. How could he agree so easily? How could he not see that these men were just using us— he probably could, yet chose to turn a bind eye.

"Perfect, Y/n we will get your Avatar ready, they will mature on the trip there." the men said walking out, leaving me in there with Jake.

"How could you just accept like that Jake. You caved! Just like that? You know they are just playing us, and you still went along with it! Don't you see–" I started, but he interrupted me. "Maybe you don't see it, but I do. We are dirt poor Y/n! Struggling... This cash could change everything. We could finally be able to live." he pleaded, desperate for understanding. "I could afford to use my legs again." he confessed.

While I was sitting there, next to my brother, a big whole blown right in the middle of our lives, I started having these dreams. Dreams that whispered secrets of possibility and untold wonders. Sooner or later though, you always have to wake up.

As I wake up, I glance around and it hits me, I'm in some sort of cryo pod. Flashbacks flood my mind, reminding me of the time before my life had got frozen, five years of my life, gone. The memories of Tommy's death, as if it was yesterday. 'We had to do it, so we could live." I think to myself, trying to find comfort in all of this.

"Rise and shine sleepy head." a doctor had greeted me as I exit the cryo pod I had spent the last five years of my life in. "We're here."

"Exo-packs on! Let's go! Exo packs on! Remember people, you lose that mask, you're unconscious in 20 seconds, and dead in four minutes–" I stopped listening to what the sergeant had to say. Looking around my eyes landing on Jake. We should not be here, this is not our home. But what's the point in dwelling now, there's no turning back. I think to myself while putting on my exo pack, adjusting it so oxygen could freely flow through.

"When that ramp comes down, go directly into the base. Do not stop! Go straight inside wait for my mark!" the sergeant yelled. Standing up I walk over to Jake who was still seated waiting for everyone in front of him to leave the air craft so that he was able to freely able to deploy his wheelchair.

"Let's go special case! Do not make me wait for you Sully's!" he barks. Not bothering to acknowledge him Jake and I walk off the ramp and onto Pandora, our "fresh start." Taking a long look around I spot soldiers, back on earth these guys were heroes, marines fighting for freedom. But out here they were all just a bunch of hired guns, serving the RDA until their last breath.

"You're not in Kansas anymore, you're on Pandora ladies and gentlemen–" the man, Quartrich, continued. Tommy was meant to be listening to this, not Jake and I.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Jake!" a lanky man rushes up to us after the "safety brief." "You're Jake right? Tom's brother." he asked looking down at him to meet his eyes. I just stare at him, does he just not see me here?

"You look just like him." he says eyes finally landing on me. "Sorry– I forgot he had mentioned he had two siblings, Y/n. I'm Norm. Spellman. Went through Avatar training with him." he says leading us into some sort of bio-lab.

As Norm continues briefing us on the bio-lab procedures, my attention drifts, drawn to avatars in three separate cry-chambers. I approach them, circling until I stop at a particular one.

"Looks like him." Jake and I simultaneously say, not once taking our eyes off what our brother could have been.

"No, looks like you. This is your avatar now Jake." Norm reassures him placing a hand on Jakes shoulder before moving to the last tube in the bio-lab.

"And this is your avatar Y/n. She had to get to the lab as soon as possible, since you know–" Norm starts, but I cut in, "–I wasn't meant to be here. Yeah, I'm aware." I finish, stepping closer to my avatar.

She looks so much like me, except for the obvious differences. Blue skin, a queue, and her sheer size. "She's beautiful." I whisper, touching the glass, feeling a soft heartbeat pass between us.

"The idea is that every driver is matched to their own Avatar, so their nervous systems are in tune... Or something. That's why they offered us the gig. It's insanely expensive... Is this right? Do we just say whatever to the video log?" Jake questions turning to Norm and Max.

"And do we have to share the exact same camera to film these things?" I interject, trying to nudge Jake out of the screens view.

"Yeah, you both need to document everything you see, what you feel. Plus, you're twins, who knows if you both are able to feel the same emotions or not. It's all apart of the science." Norm explains, retuning to his work.

"Plus it'll keep you sane for the next six years," Norm adds chuckling.

"Not if I have to sit next to Mr. Jarhead it's not." I remark, rolling my eyes but smiling slightly.

"Look who's talking Miss. 'I might not be a marine, but I sure can beat your ass,' " Jake adds, playfully pushing me.

This was one the first times I had smiled since arriving to Pandora. Usually keeping a stoic face, only smiling around my brother. My only family, the only thing from my past life.

Entering the link room behind Norm and Max, we're greeted by a voice. "Who's got my goddamn cigarette?" a redheaded woman demands, emerging from one of the link pods.

"Grace Augustine is a legend. She's the head of the Avatar Program. She wrote the book, I mean literally write the book on Pandora botany." Norm gushes. "Well that's because she likes plants more than people." Max adds teasingly.

"Well, there she is, Cinderella back from the ball. Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, and Jake and Y/n Sully." Max says pointing at each of us in turn.

"Norm, I've heard good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" she asks, completely ignoring my brother and me, then begins to speak in a language I can only assume is Na'vi.

"Uh- Grace, this is Jake and Y/n Sully," Max interjects, trying to redirect her attention.

"Yeah, yeah. I know who you are, and I don't need you. I need your brother. You know. the PhD who trained for years for this mission? Yeah him." she snaps.

"He's dead. We know it's a big inconvenience for everyone, including me." I reply bluntly. There's no need to sugar coat anything that's already happened.

"How much lab training have you had?" she asks, looking between Jake and I.

"We dissected a frog once." Jake simply states.

"You see? I mean, they're just pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain. I mean hell, the girl isn't even supposed to be here! I'm going to Selfridge, this is such bullshit." she rants, storming off but not before putting out her cigar.

"Well she's kind." I remark dryly.

As Jake and I arrive precisely at the time Max had instructed us to the day before, 0800, Jake and I hasten to catch up with Grace and Norm, who are already stationed at the link pods.

"You're late Sully's. You're in there, you're here." Grace remarks, gesturing towards two pods for Jake and I, and we obediently follow her directions.

"How much have you both logged?" she inquires, turning to the screen besides Jakes link pod.

"Zip, but I read a manual." Jake replies with a nonchalant shrug, as he wheels over to his pod.

"I listened to him read it out loud, if that counts." I confess making my way to my own pod.

"Tell me you're joking." Grace says incredulously, as she abandons her work on Jakes screen to approach mine.

"So you just decided to venture out here, to the most hostile environment known to man with no training whatsoever and see how it went? What was going on through your head?" she questions, setting up both mine and Jakes link screens for launch.

"Maybe I was tired of doctors telling what I couldn't do." Jake retorts, lying down in this link pod. I look at him wondering if that is why he spared no chance in me saying anything back when those men asked us to take the place of Tommy, because he was tired of the life he had.

"Keep you arms in, heads down." Grace instructs, pushing me into my link bed before I had the chance to ask Jake what he had truly meant.

"Just relax and let your mind go blank." are the last words I hear Grace utter before she seals my link pod.

Off to the side, Max examines scans of Jake and my brain. Studying the intently, he remarks. "Jakes brain is gorgeous, with nice activity. However we're detecting some resistance in Y/n's brain. She's unconsciously pushing back against the transfer, if this continues it could potentially harm the link." he informs, turning to Grace for guidance.

"Once the link is established, it cannot be interrupted. It will only worsen the issue," Grace states matter-of-factly, keeping an eye on my Avatar. Stubborn and resistant to change- that's Grace's initial assessment of Y/n, even after less than 48 hrs of meeting her.

As my eyes flutter open, I'm greeted by a blinding light that pierces my eyes. A sharp ache throbs in my head, intensifying until two figures materialize before me- doctors, no doubt.

"She's awake. Y/n, can you hear me? Are you feeling alright?" the female doctor inquires, checking my expression for any sign of discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I reply, opting not to mention the pounding headache. Slowly, I sit up, only to find my hands adorned with five blue fingers.

"I made it." I murmur to myself in disbelief. Glancing around, I notice Jake already on his feet, a grin stretching across his face. He's standing, a sight I never thought I'd witness again, his legs finally functioning.

"Y/n you've got to see this. When's the last time you saw your brother standing tall, huh?" he exclaims, turning to face me while his tail knocks over everything in it's path.

Finally on my feet, I chuckle, "Bro, we're giants." The realisation hits me as I gaze at Jake and then towards the exit to find that he was already smiling at me– we're thinking the same thing. Tri– Twin telepathy perhaps?

Without a word Jake and I bolt, dodging Avatars engaged in a game of basketball, evading Norm and the two doctors running after us. We hurdle obstacles until a humanoid robot comes into view.

"Sorry! we both exclaim breathlessly, narrowly avoiding a collision as we skid to a stop near some flora. Catching our breath, we're approached by an avatar bearing striking resemblance to Grace.

"Hey, Sully's!" she calls out, closing in on us.

"Grace?" Jake questions, eyeing her up and down.

"Who else were you expecting numbnuts?" she retorts with a grin, with me laughing at the nickname Grace gave him.

As Jake and Grace catch up, I slip away into the area where Avatars are housed, searching for a change of attire. Opting for a top similar to Graces but in a deep shade of blue, that are about a shade darker than my current skin tone, pairing it with green cargo shorts. Hoping to blend in slightly to the flora and fauna of the forest.

Gazing up at the darkening sky, I realize it's nearly nightfall, meaning I had to delink for the night. "Alright, everyone, settle down! Lights out." Grace commands, ushering the remaining humans away.

"See you at dinner kiddos," she adds, flicking the lights off.

Lying back, I can still feel the remnants of the headache, but I decided to let sleep wash it away. Closing my eyes, I drift off into a peaceful slumber.

next II

Tag list: @pinkvrydag @neytirismissingtoe @youskawng @tsuteyssyulang @lylalaminated

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yarafic · 3 months ago

Text

Imagine~ You get hurt while arguing with Stefan and Elijah finds you

"Why do you still care about her?" I yelled

He rubbed his temple and gave me a look, and toon a deep breath.

"Y/n, you know what Elena means to me." He says as he takes a step forward.

"Stefan, you told me that you won't see her anymore. That you will let your brother and the rest of the Save Elena squad to do the saving." I retaliate back to him, I was done and beyond annoyed that he will drop anything to save her.

He looked at me and stayed silent, he took a step back and sat down on the couch. I knew he did not want to argue anymore but I was done with him putting Elena first then me. I am his girlfriend, he should put me first. I shook my head and said, "I'm sorry, I can no longer do this."

In that moment his head instantly look back right up, he replied angrily," You are being unbelievable! This is just your jealously talking. I only love you! How many times do I have to tell you? Just because Elena is my ex, who for a fact means nothing to me!"

"If she means nothing to you then why are you still helping her out. If she means nothing to you then why isn't when she is in trouble you drop everything to go and save her. If she means nothing to you then why you always go back to her."

I shook my head and sighed, "I can't do this anymore. This is over. I do not want to be in a relationship where my significant other is still attach to his ex. I do not want to feel like I am the second choice."

I walk toward the door and left, I heard Stefan calling for me to come back inside. I kept on walking.

________

I was now in the woods, tears fell down my face. I am such a fool to believe that he was over her. I sat down and look up at the starry sky, you have a better view of the stars.

Sat there alone with my thoughts, I am finally hearing my thoughts for the first in two years being in this relationship. I am scared to were my thoughts will lead me to. The wind blows harder, shivers runs down my spine and I knew I'll be staying here for the night.

I slowly closed my eyes, then I heard a snap from my right. Fear rises through me, I was scared to see what will come at me. I slowly got on my feet and began to take steps back. I remembered myself to take deep breaths and to maintain calm. A small adorable bunny hop out of the bush, I began laughing hysterically because of the fear that I felt. A hand place itself on my shoulder, I jumped away from the mysterious silohoute and turn around, to see Elijah Mikaelson standing there.

"Y/n, do by telling me why are you in the woods?" He questions.

You gave a skeptical look and replied back, "Do tell Elijah, why are you back in Mystic Falls? Aren't you suppose to be New Orleans?"

He chuckles softly and shook a his head, "You still have that witty attitude."

You smiled softly and replied, "I got into an argument with Stefan."

He shook his head, took his hand out for me to hold, I careful put my hand on his. He locks his fingers with mine, he began walking forward. I stumble with my own feet, he wraps his arm around my waist.

"You're still clumsy." He retaliates.

I huff in annoyance, he has the nerve to drag me around as if I am a nuisance of a child that wants a piece of candy from the store and the mother sad no.

But here I am allowing him to drag me to that unknown place, I am a fool. Maybe those are the reasons why Stefan chose to hang out with Elena more than he ever did with me.

We come near to A house, wait a minute not a house, a freaking mansion. I took a better look it was the Mikaelson Manor, this was where they use to live until the business that Klaus had in New Orleans, he decided to leave Mystic Falls.

Elijah opens the door to the mansion, gesture for me to sit down and stay there. He came back with nightgown and a robe then told me to take a shower.

______

When I got of the shower I heard voices downstairs, I followed the voices until I reach to the study where they were at. There stood, Elijah and Klaus, they both look at me and smiled.

"Hello, love. How are you?" Klaus greets me and open his arms wide for a hug.

I accept the warm hug that I miss, he whispers into my ear saying that he knows that i I am having trouble in paradise.

He lets go and Elijah hands me papers, I took hold of the stack of paper then gave ten both looks "what's is this for?"

"You have now where to stay so Klaus and I decided that the Mikaelson Manor will be yours now at the moment." He explains.

"I will pick up your belonging and put them in my old room and for right now we will be eating pizza." Klaus says.

You are very thankful for having them in your life, mostly Elijah. He has been the only one person to help in stressful situations.

𝔸/𝕟: 𝕚 𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖

#klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #kol mikealson x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon x reader #elijah mikaelson #fanfic #stefan salvatore imagine #the vampire diares imagine #the originals #the vampire diaries #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #niklaus mikaelson #mikaelson family #stefan salavatore x reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 10 months ago

Text

Sprout | knj | four (fin)

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate.

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader

AUs: neighbors au, gardening au, non!idol au → strangers to enemies (mostly one sided) to friends to lovers

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: explicit

Word count: 8.2K

Warnings: (somewhat) rough smut; degrading name calling (bitch), hair pulling, spanking, very brief anal fingering, some cockwarming, throat fucking, breast and nipple play, sexual tension, stupid innuendos, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please don’t be stupid), praise kink, begging, exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes 👀 big dick Joonie, creampie, aftercare — I think that’s it!

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Author’s note(1): time for smut!!!! 😝

Taglist: @svnbangtansworld

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there 🙂

You jolt awake to the insistent rhythm of a knock on your door, your senses instantly heightened as you wonder about the unexpected visitor. With a sense of urgency, you practically sprint down the stairs, only to be greeted by a wide-awake and smiling Namjoon at your doorstep.

“Good morning,” he greets with a voice that's too cheery for the early hours, making you grunt in response while you run one hand through your tousled hair, attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes. Your gaze lingers on him, clad in a loose-fitted black shirt that hints at the impressive contours of his chest, paired with beige shorts and sandals. In stark contrast, you become acutely aware of your own appearance, standing there in your revealing sleepwear—a slutty top with your breasts on the verge of spilling out and extremely short shorts that do nothing to hide your ass.

As you glance down at your attire, the realization of what you're wearing hits you. A subtle chuckle escapes Namjoon, and his eyes briefly trace the curve of your breasts before meeting your gaze once more.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire in a gruff tone, adding, “And this early?” You rub your tired eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“I was thinking we could hit up the plant store, just like we discussed? It opens at 8,” he suggests, flashing you a wide smile that showcases his dimples – the kind of smile that should be declared illegal.

“‘Joon, it's 7:30, and I'm not even awake yet,” you sigh, fully aware of what your answer is going to be, “but sure, let's go. I just need to get dressed and maybe caffeinate myself first.”

His eyes sparkle, eliciting a soft smile from you. “Come in and make yourself comfortable,” you invite warmly.

You guide him into your home, shutting the door gently as he slips off his sandals. Leading the way to the kitchen, you sense your shorts riding up higher on your ass. In your tired state, you don't care much, pressing forward into the kitchen.

You motion for him to take a seat, the worn chair creaking slightly beneath his weight as you get ready to brew some coffee. “Care for a cup?” you inquire, your voice warm and inviting.

He offers a gentle shake of his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Not today, but I appreciate the offer,” he responds, his eyes reflecting a grateful glint.

“Mind finishing up the coffee? I'll go change real quick,” you request, a smile gracing your lips as you set the water and kettle in motion. “Absolutely,” he responds with a nod and a warm smile, prompting you to dash upstairs to your room.

As you hurry into your room, grabbing clothes in a rush, you dive into the bathroom for a quick shower, slipping into a simple yet chic mini dress. Emerging from the bathroom, you almost collide with Jungkook.

“Woaw, you’re up early,” he chuckles, deftly avoiding a collision with you amidst your swift movements. “Yeah, Namjoon’s waiting in the kitchen,” you explain in a hurried tone as you dart past Jungkook and descend the stairs, but not before catching the suggestive dance his eyebrows perform, a mischievous tease lingering in the air.

You descend the stairs and enter the kitchen, announcing, “I’m ready now,” accompanied by a warm smile as you assess Namjoon. He gestures toward a pot, indicating the ready coffee. Swiftly, you grab a to-go cup and fill it with the aromatic brew, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you.”

As you head towards the entryway together, the anticipation lingers in the air. With synchronized movements, you slip into your shoes and jackets, and you grab your purse, the door creaking open under your anticipation.

“My car is more spacious; we can take that,” he suggests, gesturing towards his sizable SUV. Despite the practicality of his choice, you can't resist a playful eye roll and a theatrical sigh. Nevertheless, you follow him towards his car.

You settle into the car as the engine roars to life, and he skillfully maneuvers out of the driveway and onto the road. It becomes evident rather quickly that driving might not be his forte. He chuckles, breaking the silence, “Apologies for the driving skills; I’m not behind the wheel often,” he confesses, taking a turn down a road. You can't help but chuckle to yourself. “I usually opt for my bike, better for the environment, you know. The only downside is the limited space.”

Your laughter grows louder, imagining Namjoon on his bike, attempting to navigate with an armful of plants. The mental image paints a comical scene, and you find yourself amused by the thought of him juggling between green companions and handlebars.

Your laughter continues, and you playfully suggest, “I can take the wheel on the way back, unless you trust your driving skills with the precious cargo.” Namjoon grins, “Maybe that's a good idea; I wouldn't want to risk any harm to my leafy companions.”

The plant store is a vibrant kaleidoscope of nature's wonders, with a plethora of beautiful specimens beckoning you both. From delicate baby plants to towering giants, the colors span the spectrum – a mesmerizing dance of greens, reds, purples, yellows, and blues. Armed with a cart, your excitement and giddiness know no bounds as you traverse the aisles, eagerly exploring the rich tapestry of botanical treasures the store has to offer.

With swift determination, Namjoon seizes bundles of essential soil packages, and inspired by his decisiveness, you follow suit, eager to replenish your own gardening arsenal.

As your gaze flits over the indoor greenery, nothing quite captures your interest. However, Namjoon's discovery of a tempting citrus tree triggers thoughts of the fruit trees lingering in your mind. Eagerly, you venture outside to explore the vast array of possibilities. Amid the selection of fruit trees—apples, pears, cherries, and beyond—you hone in on the apple varieties. With purpose, you seek out two distinct types, envisioning a harmonious pollination dance between them.

Namjoon eagerly adds to his haul with a selection of berry bushes, opting for the exquisite allure of blueberries and the tantalizing vibrancy of raspberries.

After a rewarding three-hour exploration through the vibrant aisles of the store, your shopping adventure concludes with a car filled to the brim. Grateful for Namjoon's spacious vehicle, you navigate the challenge of fitting an assortment of soil packages, fruit trees, and bushes. Some of the taller trees find refuge in the backseat, a testament to the abundance of greenery that now accompanies you on the journey home.

Namjoon casually passes you the keys, muttering, “It's better for the plants that way.” Amused, you respond with a chuckle, taking control of the wheel. Upon reaching home, a collaborative effort unfolds as both of you unload the treasures acquired during your plant-filled escapade.

Namjoon's housewarming party looms ahead, and you find yourself both excited and slightly jittery at the thought of mingling with his rowdy and boisterous friends—individuals you've been quietly cursing under your breath since he first moved in all those months ago.

You've spent hours contemplating what to wear for Namjoon's housewarming party, seeking Jungkook's fashion expertise. He meticulously evaluates every dress in your closet, categorizing them from boring to sexy. Jungkook insists on opting for something enticing to captivate Namjoon's attention, and thus, here you stand, navigating the fine line between alluring and elegant.

Maintaining a deadpan expression, Jungkook casually throws you a bold question amidst his dress scrutiny. “Do you know if Namjoon’s an ass or tits man?” His gaze remains fixated on the dresses, and you're momentarily taken aback by his crude inquiry. However, given the unfiltered nature of your friendship, you offer a nonchalant response, “I don’t know. I’ve seen him staring at both before,” accompanied by a shrug, unsure if that tidbit helps him in any way.

Jungkook continues his quest through your closet, finally emerging triumphant with a suggestion, “Then I suggest a bodycon; tight fit that shows everything.” After thorough searching, he presents a black dress that strikes the right balance, revealing just the perfect amount of cleavage and boasting a midi length that adds a touch of elegance.

You let out a groan of frustration as you eye the bodycon dress on the bed. “You know I hate bodycon dresses,” you sigh. Jungkook chuckles, “I guess that’s why you only have one of them,” he teases as he throws the dress onto your bed. Undeterred, he continues rummaging through your closet, emerging with a pair of purple glitter boots. “Since your dress is black, pair it with these purple glitter heels,” he suggests with a mischievous grin.

You share a laugh with Jungkook, realizing that the vibrant purple glitter heels add a playful touch to the overall look. The dress, initially exuding a somewhat somber vibe, now seems to embrace a more lively and celebratory feel, thanks to Jungkook's unconventional styling suggestion.

Jungkook playfully teases, his eyes dancing with mischief and a mischievous grin revealing his adorable teeth. “I think you’re gonna get laid tonight,” he adds, punctuating the statement with a suggestive wink of his eyebrows.

“It's a party, Guk,” you reprimand him, a playful glint in your eyes as you try to hide the hopeful anticipation that bubbles beneath the surface. You don't entirely dismiss Jungkook's playful prediction, secretly hoping that amidst the lively atmosphere and Namjoon's friends, a spark might ignite between you and Namjoon.

“You never know what's gonna happen,” he shrugs, leaving you to prepare at your own pace. While he swiftly readies himself – donning a simple white tee that accentuates his sculpted physique, showcasing biceps and muscles chiseled in hours at the gym, paired with leather skinny jeans that emphasize his powerful thighs – you can't help but admire the effortless appeal he exudes.

“Planning to seduce someone?” you chuckle, your gaze roaming over him. “That outfit is killer, you know.”

“Nah, maybe. You never know,” he laughs, reveling in his undeniable charm. Jungkook has been the same ever since you met him when he moved in. Always drawing attention, and over the years, he's become your trusted fashion advisor, helping you enhance your outfits to capture the spotlight. You cherish him like the brother you never had.

You knock on Namjoon's door, but the pulsating beat of the music suggests he won't hear it. Rolling your eyes, you glance at Jungkook, who chuckles and casually swings the door open, ushering you inside the lively atmosphere.

The crowd is surprisingly small, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and warmth among friends. As you navigate through the living room, you exchange greetings with familiar faces, some of whom you remember from that memorable BBQ where Namjoon inadvertently wreaked havoc on your fence and garden bed.

Several of his friends cast you a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the shared memory when Namjoon accidentally wreaked havoc on your fence, and you didn't hesitate to give him a stern scolding.

You stride into the kitchen, boldly interrupting the banter between Namjoon and his friend who's manning the stove. “Hey,” you greet, causing both Namjoon and his friend to pivot and direct their attention toward you and Jungkook.

“Oh, hi,” his friend, Yoongi, greets you, offering his hand. As you shake it and share your name, you detect a subtle recognition flicker in his eyes. It clicks. “Ah, you're the one Joon has been telling us about,” he observes, scrutinizing you from head to toe. In that moment, you feel strangely exposed, wishing you had chosen a more modest outfit. The realization that Namjoon has been discussing you raises a mix of curiosity and uncertainty within you.

Namjoon pivots fully to meet you, and as his eyes roam your entire figure, his steps stutter to a halt. From your face down to those ridiculously purple glitter heels, he takes in every detail. The noticeable gaze sends a tingling warmth across your skin, and you're acutely aware of his thorough inspection. In a breathless, warm tone, Namjoon greets you, “Hi, I'm so glad you came,” his words hanging in the air. Yoongi chuckles, Jungkook joins in, and the atmosphere seems to shift with Namjoon's lingering gaze.

“Dinner’s almost ready, you can take a drink if you want,” Namjoon gestures toward the assortment of beverages as Yoongi orchestrates the final touches to the meal.

You and Jungkook make your way to the kitchen table, where he expertly pours the two of you drinks. As you head back to the living room, the hubbub of the gathering surrounds you, and you notice the diverse crowd filling Namjoon's space with laughter and conversation.

He teases you with a sly grin, “He was totally checking out your ass,” as you both approach a group of people you greeted upon arriving. You respond with a playful chuckle, dismissing the comment but secretly reveling in the idea that Namjoon's attention might be focused on you.

An audacious man points his finger at you with a big boxy smile and declares, “Hey, you're that bitchy neighbor, right?” The desire to react with anger simmers within you, but instead, you offer a forced smile and reply, “Yeah, that's me.” The guy's friend beside him shoots him a disapproving look, muttering something about politeness.

“Don't mind him, I'm Jimin,” the guy who intervened extends his hand for a shake. You grasp it firmly, exchanging names not only with him but also with Jungkook, who lingers at your side.

“I'm Taehyung,” the guy who boldly labeled you the ‘bitchy neighbor’ introduces himself, still wearing a wide grin. Unfazed by his straightforwardness, you flash a warm smile in return, appreciating the honesty.

“I'm Hoseok,” the guy beside them chimes in, a radiant smile lighting up his face.

Before you know it, Yoongi, the guy crafting the delicious dinner, sets the final masterpiece on the dining table. As you all converge around the table, you find yourself seated next to Jungkook and Taehyung. Conversations flow effortlessly, everyone sharing stories about how they know Namjoon – college buddies, coworkers, childhood friends. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, making you feel surprisingly at home in this new circle of acquaintances. Despite the brief encounter, these individuals excel at weaving a sense of inclusion and hospitality, effortlessly transforming strangers into companions.

Despite the lively chatter and delicious food, you can't help but catch Namjoon stealing occasional glances in your direction. Determined to maintain your composure, you divert your attention to savoring the flavors on your plate, pretending not to notice the warmth of his gaze lingering on you.

As lively conversations intertwine with the clinking of cutlery and empty plates, you gradually become aware of the music's subdued presence. Jimin initiates the plate-clearing ritual, and you join in to assist. Meanwhile, Hoseok, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, strides into the living room and cranks up the volume, signaling an imminent eruption of rhythmic movements, suggesting he's ready to unleash some dance-floor magic.

With a playful smile, you turn to Jimin and inquire, “Is it always like this?” Your gaze follows the fluid motions of Hoseok, who has seamlessly transitioned into a mesmerizing dance routine, eliciting a spontaneous chuckle from you.

“Pretty much,” he replies with a chuckle, arranging plates in the dishwasher.

“It's a pity that Taehyung's girlfriend and Hoseok's couldn't make it today. Hoseok's girlfriend loves to dance, and watching her and Hoseok dance is always a blast!” he shares with a smile. Jungkook has now joined Hoseok in dancing, while Namjoon and Yoongi unwind on the couch. Taehyung is pitching in, helping you and Jimin clean up.

“Your friend Jungkook, what's his story?” Jimin inquires, his eyes tracing Jungkook's muscular frame as he effortlessly matches Hoseok's dance moves.

You chuckle, and then Taehyung interjects, “He's wondering if Jungkook is single.” He clarifies for Jimin, who blushes as he shuts the dishwasher.

You turn to Jimin, “Well, he is single. I've never seen him with a man before, but you should give it a shot,” you say, smiling at him. His face brightens, a wide smile forming until his eyes disappear into small slits. Both you and Taehyung chuckle as Jimin heads into the living room to join the dance.

You both follow him, seamlessly joining the dancing crowd. You instantly locate Jungkook, who winks suggestively with his eyebrows as he grips your hips, swaying you to the beat of the music. You understand his intentions – to help you grab Namjoon's attention. It seems to be working, as you feel a pair of hazel brown eyes igniting your skin with warmth.

Jimin effortlessly joins the dancing, grinding up against your body. With the attention of the two men, you can't help but laugh as they're on a mission to make Namjoon jealous.

You catch sight of Namjoon on the couch, his fists clenching intermittently as he struggles to maintain eye contact with you, alternating his gaze whenever he senses yours on him.

Worn out from the lively dance and the touch of both Jungkook and Jimin, you retreat to the kitchen for a much-needed break. Amidst the array of alcoholic beverages, you choose a refreshing sip of water to rejuvenate your senses.

A soft “Hi” catches your attention from behind, and as you turn, there stands Namjoon. It seems like Jungkook's strategic plan to capture his interest might just be unfolding before you.

“Hi,” you reply to Namjoon, turning gracefully to face him, a soft smile playing on your lips as your eyes meet his.

He envelops your personal space in an instant, but the proximity feels electrifying rather than intrusive. His gaze sweeps down, the height difference smaller because of your heels. “You look incredibly sexy,” he murmurs, his words sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Thank you, so do you,” you reply, your eyes tracing the contours of his fitted gray shirt, the black dress pants accentuating his silhouette, and his hair styled in a soft undercut. A subtle gulp betrays the sudden rush of arousal that courses through you. Damn, he looks more than nice; he looks irresistible.

His lips brush against your ear as he leans in, his husky whisper sending a shiver down your spine, “I bet you look even sexier without those clothes on.”

A barely audible, breathy moan escapes your lips, your agreement conveyed through a subtle nod. His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, electrifying every inch of your body. Yet, the hunger for more lingers, an insatiable desire pulsating within you.

With a teasing and audacious tone, you declare, “There's only one way to find out.”

As a provocative invitation, you lower the neckline of your dress ever so slightly, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze quickly descends, and he licks his lips in response, muttering a husky “Damn.”

He leans in again, gently nibbling on your ear, his breath hot as he pants, “Fuck. I want you so much.” A mischievous glint in his eyes, he adds, “Do you want to take a look at my seedling collection in my room?”

A playful chuckle escapes your lips, yet your body responds with a cascade of tingles, every inch of your skin on high alert. “Yes,” you moan, pressing your body against his, acutely aware of the undeniable evidence of his erection.

He seizes your hand, a magnetic pull guiding you out of the bustling kitchen and into the mysterious path leading, you presume, to his bedroom.

Surprised, you stammer, “What about the others?” as he whisks you away from the lively gathering.

Confidently, he declares, “They have their music, and they won't mind us disappearing for an hour,” pulling you through the hallway with a mischievous grin, “or two.”

You can't help but chuckle, but as his words finally penetrate your foggy mind, a new surge of arousal courses through your core. You gulp, groaning at the anticipation of what his words imply.

In no time, you reach his room. He swiftly opens the door, pulling you inside, and without hesitation, he pushes you against the nearest wall, hovering over you. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but finding none, he dives into a kiss. It's a blend of softness and intensity, his lips feeling inviting as you instinctively open your mouth, welcoming the dance of his tongue with yours.

The kiss lingers until you both reluctantly break apart for a much-needed breath, chests heaving in sync with the rapid beat of your hearts. His gaze, now hooded, remains fixed on your lips, and his hands firmly grasp your hips, the intensity between you growing with each passing moment.

He breathlessly murmurs your name, his desperation palpable, “You have no idea how much I want you.”

It sends shivers down your spine as you bite your lower lip, anticipation building. “Show me,” you pant in a ragged voice, yearning for the intensity that awaits.

He pulls you towards his bed, the air thick with anticipation as he slowly eases you down onto the soft sheets. Your gaze locks with his, desire burning in your eyes; an unspoken plea for him to ravish you, to consume the hunger that has been building between you for so long.

His fingers trail over your body, igniting a symphony of shivers that course through you, causing a hitch in your breath as he explores the landscape of your body.

His voice, laced with a hunger that mirrors the intensity in his gaze, whispers a question that sets your skin ablaze.

“Can I taste you?”

The air thickens with anticipation, and you're certain that if he doesn't touch you soon, you might just combust.

“Please,” your plea, drawn out in a breathless moan, echoes in the room, and you feel your toes curl with anticipation, a symphony of desire playing between every gasp and heartbeat.

He wastes no time, swiftly dragging your dress up your hips to your stomach. A pause lingers as he appreciates the sight of your black lacy underwear, before he skillfully tugs them down your thighs and lets them pool at your feet and drags them to the floor.

“What about my shoes?” you playfully remark as you attempt to kick them off, but he swiftly captures your legs before you can make much progress.

“Keep them on. They're cute.”

He murmurs, a low, seductive tone that sends shivers down your spine. Your breath catches, and a wave of need tightens your core, leaving you aching for more.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs with a hungry gaze, absorbing the sight of your glistening pussy, ready to explore every inch of it.

“Fuck, you're already so wet,” he groans, his hands kneading your thighs, eliciting moans of delight as his skilled fingers inch closer to where you need him the most.

He inches closer and closer with his hands, teasingly tracing the contours of your thighs, but then, with a seductive glint in his eyes, he redirects his attention to your core. Your gaze locks with his as he licks his lips in anticipation before finally sealing the deal, his mouth enveloping your slick, pulsating pussy.

“Ahhh–”

His tongue skillfully explores your folds, sending a shiver down your spine as you involuntarily arch your back off the bed, caught in the electrifying sensation. As he moves to your clit, a wave of tightness starts to coil in your stomach.

His expert mouth engulfs your clit, creating a tantalizing suction that has you gripping the sheets, your mind teetering on the edge of bliss. He hasn’t even done much yet an overwhelming sense of ecstasy washes over you, pushing you to the brink of sweet surrender.

Simultaneously, his skilled fingers continue their rhythmic massage on your thighs. “Fuck, don't stop,” you moan, lost in the intoxicating blend of sensations that envelops you.

He devours your clit with an insatiable hunger, his tongue moving with an expertise that leaves you breathless. Every flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

Then he pulls off, “You like that?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He returns to his task with newfound determination, his tongue expertly dancing over your throbbing clit. Your fingers entwine in his hair, tugging at the strands as he skillfully sucks and laps, each deliberate move coaxing euphoric sounds from your lips, punctuated by the desperate call of his name.

Embarrassment is a distant thought as pleasure courses through you, driven by the divine dance of his tongue on your sensitive bud. Wetness coats your core, and in the throes of ecstasy, you abandon all reservations. “I'm so close, Joon,” escapes your lips, a raw admission of the impending climax.

As his tongue continues its tantalizing assault on your clit, a single finger joins the sensual ballet, probing the entrance to your pussy. Your walls eagerly envelop the intruding digit, the dual stimulation propelling you perilously close to the edge of climax.

Your moans cascade into the air like a melody as he rhythmically thrusts his finger in and out of you, a symphony of pleasure coursing through your body. The withdrawal of his digit leaves you yearning, but the anticipation peaks as his slickened finger teases your untouched hole. Shivers dance along your spine as you feel the subtle pressure against the resistance of your muscles, inviting an exhilarating mix of pleasure and anticipation.

“N-Namjoon…”

You whimper, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight below. His eyes are darkened pools of desire, mirroring the intensity of the sensations he orchestrates with his skillful tongue. The explicit symphony of wet, rhythmic sounds reverberates in the room, a sinful melody that only adds to the fire between you both.

His insistent finger nudges at your hole, and you instinctively clench, a mix of anticipation and slight discomfort coursing through you. Yet, his agile tongue at your clit becomes a captivating distraction, a skillful dance that forces your focus away from the pressure building elsewhere. As you struggle to ease the tension in your body, your breath quickens, and you transform into a panting, quivering mess beneath his intoxicating touch.

In a haze of pleasure, you're suddenly aware of the delicate pressure of his teeth on your clit. The sensation is subtle yet electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body. Your voice echoes in a cry of his name, the walls of your core clenching around the emptiness, while your senses blur in a whirlwind of ecstasy. As you struggle to regain control of your breathing, the world around you fades into a euphoric abyss.

As your climax courses through you, he withdraws his finger from your tight hole, but his fervent attention on your folds persists. His tongue dances with expertise, devouring the sweet juice that envelops his taste buds.

“You taste so sweet.”

Savoring the lingering taste of your sweetness, he licks his lips lasciviously as he withdraws from your core. Gazing upon your breathless and flushed figure sprawled on his bed, he can't help but chuckle, a low and satisfied sound, at the intoxicating impact he's already had on you.

“Dammit, Namjoon.”

Frustration and desire intertwine as you sit up, urgently pulling Namjoon between your legs to seize his lips in a passionate kiss. In the heat of the moment, you inadvertently taste yourself on his lips, but you don’t mind.

With a sultry gaze, you break away from his lips, locking eyes with him as you confess, “I want to suck your dick.”

As your seductive words hang in the air, you notice his pupils dilate even further, and he inhales sharply, taking a deliberate step back, visibly affected by the promise in your desire-laden confession.

“I don't know,” he begins, and you raise an intrigued eyebrow at him.

“You haven't exactly been a good girl,” he adds, his tone taking on a tantalizing edge. You gape at his unexpected words, your mind racing to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Why should I let you suck my dick when you’ve been so bad?”

Your jaw actually drops, and you're left perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. “I don't know what you're talking about. I just want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you respond, your voice a mixture of confusion and desire, trying to navigate the unexpected turn in the conversation.

A mischievous smirk graces his lips, and he offers a soft smile. “If I remember correctly, you glued my mailbox together,” he utters, and as the words escape his mouth, a realization hits you like a ton of bricks — is he still holding onto your past antics from when he first moved in?

A sly grin plays on his lips. “And threw eggs on my windows,” he teases, and you're left dumbfounded. His arousal is evident with a prominent bulge in his pants, leaving you puzzled as to why he's resurrecting this conversation now.

“Wanted to blow my tire,” he chuckles, his hand casually finding its way to his erect cock, inviting your gaze. “If you want this,” he gestures to his throbbing dick, “you'll need to apologize and beg like a proper bitch.”

You inhale sharply at his audacious demand, a shiver coursing down your spine. The challenge is clear. Two can play this game, and you're more than ready to meet his provocative request head-on.

You bat your eyes at him, rising to meet him at the foot of the bed, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. “So it's going to be like that, huh? What if I don't want to apologize, because I already have?” Your voice drops to a sultry whisper as you tease him, fingers boldly grabbing the outline of his cock outside his pants, eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips.

His tone oozes mock disappointment. “Fine, I suppose I'll just go join the others,” he declares, a smug smile playing on his lips, leaving you to wonder if he's bluffing or genuinely preparing to walk away.

“With this tent in your pants?”

With a teasing smirk, you glance down at the noticeable bulge in his pants and then meet his eyes again. Chuckling nervously, the realization dawns on you that he might just be speaking the truth.

“I don’t mind,” nonchalantly, he shrugs his shoulders as he backs away from you, and a sense of panic creeps in because, damn, he wasn't kidding about walking away!

But an overwhelming desire surges through you, an urgent need for him, for his intimacy. You crave to taste him, to feel him deep inside. Damn it, you'll have to surrender to the yearning and beg for the pleasure you so desperately crave.

Your voice is a breathy plea, eyes locked onto his, a mixture of desire and vulnerability.

“Please,” you implore, the longing in your eyes laying bare your desperate craving to taste him.

“Please let me suck your dick.”

He saunters over, a playful glint in his eyes. “And?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you, leaving you biting your lower lip in a mix of anticipation and frustration.

You take a deep breath, your admission hanging in the air, “I'm sorry, I was a bitch to you.”

His satisfaction evident, he swiftly lowers both his pants and underwear in a single motion, unveiling his impressive cock—long, thick, with a captivating crimson hue at the tip. Your breath catches at the sight, a gasp escaping your lips as it comes into full view.

“Good girl. Then suck it.”

He commands, and you gracefully descend to your knees. Your tongue darts out, tracing your lips as you fixate on the glistening bead of precum adorning the crown of his cock.

With purposeful intent, your hands envelop his pulsating cock, eliciting a guttural groan of longing from him as your fingers methodically traverse its rigid length.

“Don't toy with me,” he cautions, his voice imbued with a mixture of desire and command as he utters your name.

You playfully scoff at his attitude, but your boldness shines through as you extend your tongue, sliding it beneath the swollen tip of his dick. Locking eyes with him, you tease away the glistening droplets of precum. His sharp intake of breath transforms into a low moan when you engulf the head of his throbbing cock with your warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck!”

You skillfully trace your tongue around his frenulum, causing a visceral reaction. His head arches backward, and his fingers instinctively weave into your hair, applying a gentle, insistent tug as if he’s unable to contain the escalating pleasure.

You release his cock from your mouth, allowing saliva to pool and gather as you sensually prepare for another round. With deliberate intent, you envelop him once more, eliciting breathy pants from him as your wet, warm mouth expertly glides up and down, leaving his dick coated in a glistening sheen of your saliva.

With a firm grip on his hips, you delve into the art of pleasuring him, expertly creating a vacuum with your lips that draws out moans of pleasure. As you suck him, the wetness between your thighs intensifies, a tangible manifestation of your arousal responding to the symphony of his reactions.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

As his moans echo in the room, his praise serves as a potent catalyst, igniting a fiercer desire within you. Eager for more, you boldly take more of his cock, skillfully deep-throating him until the meeting point of your nose and his coarse pubic hair.

“Ah, fuck.”

As you skillfully relax your mouth, the enticing vibrations of your hum reverberate around his throbbing dick, eliciting a deeper response. His hands, entwined in the makeshift ponytail of your hair, tug with a mixture of urgency and pleasure, amplifying the intensity.

Breathless and with desire darkening his gaze, he implores, “Fuck. WIll you let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?”

His eyes linger on your face, adorned with the evidence of your oral prowess, your lips glistening with your saliva by being filled to the brim with his thick cock.

You echo your consent with a sultry hum around his dick, your subtle nod accentuating the deliberate relaxing of your throat and jaw, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth.

“God. You’re such a good girl for me.”

He forcefully tugs at your hair, eliciting a hiss around his cock. With a firm hand, he guides your face deeper into his pubic hair. You concentrate on relaxing, taking slow breaths to stave off the impending gag reflex. Just as you feel the sensation building, he withdraws, leaving you to glance up with anticipation, wondering what's wrong.

“You’re doing so good.”

His tender reassurance, accompanies a gentle brush of his fingers, wiping away a lone tear cascading down your cheek. A genuine smile graces your lips in response. The warmth of his praise sends a delightful flutter through your stomach, your core responding with an involuntary clench.

“I’ll fuck you real good after this,” his promise hangs in the air like an electrifying vow, resonating with a potent mixture of desire and anticipation. The command in his pull at your hair is met with your compliance, as he deftly aligns his dick with your waiting mouth. A mutual understanding passes between you, and you intentionally relax, allowing him to dictate the rhythm and intensity.

The tempo of his movements becomes an immediate onslaught, a relentless pace that leaves you breathless. His thrusts into your mouth are a whirlwind of intensity, each one demanding your full attention and challenging your ability to keep up.

The room resonates with a symphony of wet, slurping sounds, a visceral accompaniment to the mingling of your tears and saliva that forms a slick, glistening sheen on his cock. The dance of his relentless thrusts is now an unhindered glide, running smoothly over your lips.

Amidst the ecstasy, he moans appreciatively, “You've been a real bitch,” yet his words carry a tone of undeniable pleasure. “But, fuck, you look divine like this.”

He continues to thrust into your mouth, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Can't talk back with your mouth full, huh?”

Damn, his menacing words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a wild fire of arousal pooling within your core. Attempting to respond, only a muffled hum escapes your lips against his pulsating cock, prompting him to moan your name in ecstasy.

“Fuck. I’m so close.”

His thrusts intensify, desire burning in his eyes as he seeks permission, “I really want to come inside your pussy, can I?”

Your muffled hum around him ignites a primal response, “Fuck. You’re so good for me, baby girl. I want to fuck you so bad, you won’t be able to walk out of here.”

Your pussy tightens in response to his words. Fuck, the thought alone sends a shiver through your body. You can already sense the wetness trickling down your thighs, aching for more of his intoxicating touch.

As he withdraws from your mouth, you gasp for air, inhaling in rapid breaths. His gentle touch caresses your cheek, accompanied by a soft smile. Transitioning from the kneeling position, he releases his hold on your hair, bringing you to a standing position before him. A hiss escapes your lips at the pull, yet it ignites a torrent of arousal, leaving you groaning in pleasure.

His command slices through the air, “On all fours,” he orders, a subtle gesture guiding your movements toward the bed. Swiftly, you comply, positioning yourself on hands and knees, anticipation coursing through every nerve.

His breath catches as he admires the breathtaking sight, “Fuck, your ass is incredible.”

A pause lingers as he indulges in the moment, his hands gently caressing the curves before a sharp slap echoes through the room, eliciting a moan from you—a sound that draws a light, satisfied chuckle from him.

As he sheds the last of his clothes, standing there in raw vulnerability, he motions for you to rise and shed the remnants of your dress. With a swift motion, he pulls the fabric away, revealing a matching lace bra that barely conceals the anticipation underneath. Skillfully unhooking it from behind, he lets it join the growing pile on the floor, laying bare the desires that crackle between you.

His hands envelop your breasts from behind, skillfully rolling and tugging at your sensitive nipples, coaxing a hiss that transforms into a sultry moan.

“Get down,” he commands, releasing your breasts, and you obediently return to your hands and knees, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric charge.

As you arch your back, pressing your ass into him, the electric jolt of sensation courses through your body, the meeting of your ass with his throbbing cock igniting a fervent desire within. The yearning for him to fill you overwhelms your senses, aching for the ecstasy that awaits.

With a firm grip, he parts your cheeks, molding them as though shaping the most exquisite sculpture, and a prolonged moan escapes your lips, echoing the building tension between you. His touch, both commanding and sensual, sends shivers down your spine.

“You like it when I grope your ass?”

His teasing tone resonates with the intimate caresses on your backside, creating a delicious interplay of sensations. As he playfully gropes your ass once more, a moan, laden with desire, spills from your lips.

“Yes, Joon.”

As his hand connects with the curve of your ass, a jolt of both pain and pleasure surges through you, a visceral reminder that each spank is a tantalizing dance between ecstasy and a hint of sting. You can't help but release a breathy exclamation, caught in the intoxicating paradox of pleasure and the fiery imprint of his touch.

“Fuck!”

His fingers trace the tender spot left by the impact, a gentle contrast to the impending intensity. The warmth of his touch lingers just long enough before the other cheek receives the caress of his firm hand. With a husky promise, he murmurs, “Such a good girl. I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

In response to his tantalizing vow, a needy moan escapes your lips, fueling the building desire within. Eager for his touch, you press your ass further toward him. He complies, his hand skimming over his throbbing cock before parting your slickened folds. With an electrifying precision, he guides his dick to the brink of your quivering entrance.

Sensations surge through you as the velvety tip of his cock teases your folds. Surrendering to the impending ecstasy, you bury your breasts and head into the bed, anticipating the irresistible intrusion. With a deliberate and tantalizing pace, he eases himself into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, setting off a cascade of pleasure that envelops you both.

“Fuck! You’re so big, ugh!”

Ecstatic moans escape your lips as the sheer magnitude of his size overwhelms your senses. You're acutely aware of the delicious stretch coursing through your core, a blend of pleasure and challenge. Summoning every ounce of willpower, you command your body to yield, coaxing it to embrace the monumental intrusion and paving the way for him to delve deeper into you, transforming lingering discomfort into a symphony of desire.

“Damn. You’re so tight,” his grip tightens on your ass, fingers sinking into the flesh as he thrusts himself deeper into the velvety warmth of your pussy. A guttural moan escapes his lips, resonating through the room as he relishes the tightness that envelops him. With each inch, a shared ecstasy unfurls, culminating in a breathless admission, “Your little pussy is taking me so well.”

An electrifying fullness courses through you as he seamlessly integrates into the heated embrace of your slick folds. The initial stretch fades into a delicious satisfaction, a testament to the perfect fit between your bodies. His whispered inquiry, “Are you good?” hangs in the air, a prelude to the rhythmic dance about to unfold.

“Fuck, yeah. Please fuck me Joon.”

Your impassioned plea reverberates through the room, a desperate cry into the sheets. Almost in response, he retreats, teasingly withdrawing before plunging back in with a force that elicits an unrestrained cry, the fusion of pleasure and intensity echoing in the air.

“Ahhh!”

He propels into a relentless and rapid rhythm from the outset, causing your fingers to curl tightly around the sheets. As the pace intensifies, a thin sheen of saliva from your parted lips marks the bedding.

His voice, rough and primal, reverberates in the room as he plunges into you with unbridled intensity. “Fuck. You feel so nice around me, babe,” he rasps, each forceful thrust hitting that exquisite spot, setting off a symphony of moans that escape your lips in a relentless, intoxicating cadence.

Your uninhibited moans echo in the room, a symphony of pleasure that drowns in the pulsating beats of the music. In the haze of passion, you're blissfully unaware of how loud you are, and with each intense thrust, you find solace in the hope that the music's thunderous rhythm conceals your shared symphony from the prying ears of his friends—although, in this heated moment, who gives a fuck?

“Namjoon, shit!” you pant, surrendering to the primal rhythm, arching your back and meeting his dick with fervor. Every thrust becomes a shared dance, an intimate symphony where your movements mirror his, creating a crescendo of pleasure that resonates through the room.

“Fuck. You’re such a good girl for me. Fucking yourself on me like this, fuck.”

His hands, explorers on a sensual journey, traverse every curve of your body with a possessive grace. With a firm grip on your hair, he elevates you onto your knees, commanding your body like a masterpiece. His skilled hands then trace a tantalizing path, cupping your breasts, and his fingers dance over your nipples, coaxing forth a symphony of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck.” Your moan harmonizes with the relentless rhythm of his hips, each thrust orchestrating a crescendo of pleasure that leaves your core drenched in a fresh cascade of arousal.

His fingers dance on your sensitive nipples, an exquisite melody that resonates with the building intensity of your pleasure. You're on the precipice, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, breath hitching.

“Shit— I'm close!”

As he releases one of your tender breasts, that liberated hand embarks on a journey south, landing at your aching core. His skilled fingers find your swollen clit instantly, tracing circles that send electric shocks of pleasure through your body. A raw, uninhibited moan escapes your lips, a testament to the sweet agony he effortlessly orchestrates.

His voice, a low and husky melody, reverberates in your ear, electrifying your senses. “Just like that, babe,” he moans, each word a caress, sending shivers cascading down your spine. “Cream my cock,” he implores, his desire echoing in the air like a sultry command.

Overwhelming sensations surge through your body, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by his skillful touch. The relentless rhythm of his thrusts, the expert manipulation of your nipples, and the teasing strokes on your clit become a sensory overload. It's an intoxicating concoction, pushing you past the edge. The coil within you finally unravels, your walls contracting around his cock, squeezing him tight. In the symphony of ecstasy, he releases a strangled moan, a harmonious blend of desire and fulfillment.

Your body becomes a vessel of pleasure, every gasp for air feels like an accomplishment. Namjoon relentlessly maintains the pace, a symphony of passion playing between you. “Namjoon,” you whimper in a strangled voice, the intensity leaving you sounding distant even to your own ears. Your vision blurs with white spots, a kaleidoscope of sensations overwhelming your senses. The weight of ecstasy takes hold, your body feeling both heavy and weightless.

Unable to sustain yourself on your knees, you surrender to the intoxicating euphoria, slumping your head onto the bed, finding solace in the soft embrace of the sheets.

Namjoon holds your ass up, his thrusts becoming a frenzied dance, each movement a passionate punctuation in and out of your convulsing pussy.

“Almost there, babe. Fuck. You just clenched around me even tighter.” he seizes your hips with a firmer grip, plunging into you with more depth, and you muffle your moans into the sheets, desperately clinging to the sensations coursing through you.

He trails his fingers along your spine for a fleeting moment, and then, with a sudden slap to one of your ass cheeks, he accentuates the contrast by tenderly stroking the very spot he just struck. “You're incredible,” he breathes, his touch a symphony of pleasure and pain.

With a final series of deep, powerful thrusts, he slams into you, releasing a torrent of warm, white fluid that coats the walls of your pussy. His subsequent thrusts, though slowing down, maintain a sensual rhythm, drawing out the euphoric connection between your bodies.

“Fucking hell. That was mind-blowing,” he pants, his hands finding a temporary refuge on the curve of your ass as he endeavors to catch his breath. A few beads of his sweat cascade from his forehead, tracing a path down onto your skin. You tilt your head, still recovering your own breath, and respond, “Yeah it was.”

He tenderly strokes your ass cheeks, his softened dick still nestled within you. The gentle caresses feel exquisite, though you become aware of his essence gradually seeping out, tracing a languid path down your thighs.

He remains embedded within your warm pussy until you murmur, “Joon, I'm too exhausted to stay like this.”

He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns along your ass and spine before withdrawing his cock, leaving you to groan in the void it creates. A cascade of your combined releases trails down your thighs, and as Namjoon spreads your ass cheeks, he admires the aftermath.

“Damn, you look incredible,” he murmurs, his lips descending to kiss the intimate blend of his essence and your arousal on your pussy.

You moan, your body still tingling with sensitivity, and you slump onto the bed, utterly spent. Namjoon chuckles, joining you in a languid sprawl beside you.

Lying side by side, you both catch your breaths while Namjoon spoons you. The intimacy is soothing, his rapid heartbeat against your back almost lulling you to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hand trace a path from your hips down your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

“I'll clean you up,” he murmurs, breaking the post-passion silence with a promise.

He ascends from the bed, retrieving towels from a drawer to delicately cleanse the intimate aftermath between your legs. Each touch elicits a moan, and you're grateful for the tender care he showers on you.

“Thank you” you sigh, the words carrying a weight of appreciation and a lingering sense of intimacy.

“No problem,” his response comes effortlessly, and he settles onto the edge of the bed, a casual ease in his demeanor.

He breaks the silence, a hint of nervousness in his voice as his hand grazes the back of his head, then he pops the question, “I was actually thinking... if you want to go out on a date with me?”

You shift your body to face him, a tender smile playing on your lips as you reply, “I'd absolutely love that, Namjoon.”

As your fingers intertwine with his, a genuine smile lights up his face, revealing those adorable dimples. “Great. You can call me Joonie by the way,” he says, and seals the moment with a soft kiss on your temple, leaving you breathless once again.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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themultifandomgal · 1 year ago

Text

Isaiah Jesus-Wrapped Around Her Finger

Here’s another request!

I stand starring at Isaiah after telling him the news that I'm pregnant. We have been courting one another behind my brothers backs now for a year, but this was definitely not planned

"Say something, please" I beg

"Your brothers are going to kill me"

"Bloody hell Is, that's what your worried about? I just told you I'm pregnant"

"Of course that's what I'm worried about. When you tell them I loose all chance of being a father and living" he throws his arms in the air

"Oh don't be so dramatic Is. They won't kill you. Force you to marry me, most likely"

"Whoever said that marrying you would be forced?" Isaiah looks at me with a frown

"Were you really going to ask my brothers if you could marry me?" I cross my arms with a raised eyebrow

"In the future yeah, but looks like we will have to marry quicker"

"Tommy and Grace didn't marry straight away, maybe Tommy will be more relaxed about all of this"

"At least let me prepare myself for the rathe of the Shelby's"

"Fine but we tell them end of this week"

The end of the week comes by way to quickly and now I'm stood in front of my whole family about to tell them that I'm pregnant

"Alright YN. Out with it" Tommy says placing an unlit cigarette in his mouth before lighting it up

"Well erm. I guess we should just come out with it"

"We?" Arthur questions looking between me and and Isaiah

"Yes. Err we have been, involved with each other for a while now and...."

"And what?" Tommy asks with an angry expression

"I'm pregnant"

"What!" John is the first one out of his chair "you better be bloody joking"

"Calm down John. YNs not a kid anymore. She's the same age as we were when we had..."

"We were married" John points at Esme

"Fuck sake YN. I don't care that you've been busy behind our backs because your an adult but how stupid can you be to get pregnant?"

"Arthur that's unfair. You could say the same for me"

"I did" Arthur retaliates looking at Ada. I look at Tommy worried because he hasn't said anything yet

"Tom?"

"Well. Can't say I'm not disappointed, but I got Grace pregnant out of marriage and John boy only married Martha because she got pregnant so I can't get to angry. However. I think Isaiah and I should have a little chat"

"Oh Tommy leave him be" Polly says getting up and walking over to me "congratulations sweetheart" she pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek

"How can you all be so chilled out by this?" Arthur asks annoyed "Isaiah was meant to keep YN safe and away from men"

"He did just that didn't he" John grumbles. A fire is then lit up inside me and I suddenly get very brave

"Ok wether you like it or not, I'm pregnant and I'm having this baby. Isaiah and I aren't getting married just because I'm pregnant. So you can either all act like my family or fuck off" I notice Tommy smirking. John and Arthur both settle back down, still grumbling about how they aren't happy with me. I roll my eyes and then I'm pulled into another hug, this time by Ada and Esme

"Congratulations YN" Ada says

"Thank you"

"So am I going to survive long enough to see my child?" Isaiah asks

"You'll survive long enough to raise the child, love the child and take care of my sister" Tommy stubs his cigarette out and leans back in his chair

"Yeah, yeah course"

"Thank you Tommy" I run over to him and hug him being grateful that he was able to keep everyone calm, or as calm as the Shelby boys can be

"She's always had him wrapped round her bloody finger" Arthur grumbles takes a swig of his drink. I roll my eyes at the comment. All my brothers love me so him and John will get over this eventually.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #isaiah jesus x y/n #isiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus x oc #isaiah jesus imagine

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vicsy · 5 months ago

Note

Had no idea what to pitch so I literally looked up one word prompts and chose the first few. Pick whichever inspires: Daniel x Max + Sunburn/Tease/Emerge/Afternoon/Impulse/Nurture/Rough/Polaroid/Good

maxiel + polaroid, sunburn

"Drink?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Can't stay long. Duty calls!" Daniel makes an exaggerated gesture. Max cracks a smile. He probably follows the pundit stuff Daniel does more than actual racing these days. "Just wanted to pop by since you're back to calling Monaco home. Nice place, mate."

If not for the sim rig installed in an empty guest room that could have been a nursery in a life he brushed aside, nobody would have ever guessed Max lived here. His new apartment was clean, spacious, incredibly faceless. A simple home for a creature of habit Max always was but not quite a home.

"I wanted to go watch the race this weekend," Max admits and pads through the cluttered living room to the adjacent kitchen, straight to the fridge. It's shiny, sophisticated and very empty, except for a monthly supply of Red Bull and yesterday's leftovers. He grabs a can for himself, wishing he had that beer Daniel used to love. "But I am of course happy to see you after, well. Who knows, yeah?"

Couple years, give or take. Max stopped counting after turning thirty-three.

Behind him, Daniel claps his hands together. Max throws a surprised look over his shoulder, blindly rummaging in the fridge. The shine of Daniel's smile hasn't diminished over the years, but the crow's feet around his eyes, Max discovers, are more prominent than he remembers. He wonders if Daniel notices the little changes about him, too; if he cares for them at all. Max does.

"Oh, congrats on your team winning, uh, another virtual racing thingy," he delivers the line with that old, addictive enthusiasm and, to Max, it's a gut punch. He schools his face, a lump forming in his throat. Daniel gives him a thumbs up, turns around and walks along the empty shelves attached to the TV wall. The lack of decor there makes it look kind of pathetic. Max had only managed to put two of his WEC trophies on display, a helmet he wore for the last race and a nice-looking box of assorted knick-knacks dear to his memory. "Any plans to decimate Le Mans this year, Mr Three Time champ?"

"Fernando is busy with Dakar, so probably I'll skip it. Oscar texted me about doing it next year together, so," Daniel's back is facing him still. Max closes the fridge and opens the Red Bull can, places it on the kitchen counter. Stares at it for a second or two. Then, out of a long-forgotten habit, Max goes for a poorly planned half-joke. "Didn't know you started watching iRacing in your old age. Quick, what's a livestream?"

It's a desperate attempt to even the gap between now and before. Daniel flips him a bird without looking, too occupied with whatever he found on Max's sad little shelves.

"Har, har, fucker. I mean, I gotta keep myself in the game, everything is changing, like, a lot. And, come on, it's you–" he stops talking. Max takes a sip from the can, watching Daniel finally face him. "Huh. Didn't know you still have these."

Max has gone lengths without having to experience a solid enough crash and the debilitating aftermath reverberating through his body. In the sun-flooded apartment, on the freshly turned page, it catches up to Max as abruptly as a rainstorm in the summer.

Forty-three year old Daniel is standing in his unfurnished living room, a splotch of color among the backdrop of generic white paint and a mount of unpacked boxes. Forty-three year old Daniel, with a sprinkle of salt in his hair and a tan line on the ring finger of his left hand, looks at Max like he's a ghost from the past, like it's him who just had to ruin everything when things got too real. He wasn't there when Max paid the price of his own happiness in retaliation.

Forty-three year old Daniel, who sent out an invitation to a wedding Max never attended, holds up two tiny polaroids taken almost a decade ago and all Max can think of is his signature on the divorce papers, the ink still wet.

He swiftly closes the distance to Daniel and snatches both pictures from him, cradles them to his chest. Daniel's hand is left suspended in the air between them. Max ignores the wobble in between his ribs. His eyes trace the line of the rose tattoo in the direct line of vision, memory bristling, anger thrumming underneath his skin.

"I kept them," Max spits. He doesn't mask the bitterness in his voice. He had it bottled up long enough the cork had gone rotten.

Daniel stares back, mouth slack. He looks good and Max hates that, hates his stupid colorful hoodie and his meager attempts to make amends. Above all, Max hates himself for ever conceding. Daniel has always had one foot out the door. Missed chances were Max's fuel and they've still propelled him back to square one.

"Yeah. I figured," Daniel says, too soft, too familiar. Placating. Max should ask him to leave.

Instead, he drops his gaze to the polaroids laid flat on his palm. They're in good condition but Max also hadn't looked at them in months, maybe years; it doesn't matter since those Daniel and Max, everything they stood for, ossified and turned into dust. It doesn't keep Max awake at night anymore.

Out of the two photos, only one comes from the Red Bull PR department. They never cared when it went missing. Max remembers the video they shot too starkly to be unbothered it ever happened — him and Daniel in matching team gear, insane rain in Monaco; Max winning that weekend and Daniel watching from the pit wall.

The other polaroid, a bit rough on the edges, had never seen the light of day. It captured just a part of Max's sunburnt face, a corner of his smile; Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, his wet curls in disarray. Max gets a phantom ache in his chest when he remembers how the camera ended up in the sand, falling off a small table where they had propped it up against a half-empty cocktail glass.

Daniel cups Max's hand holding the photos from underneath, painfully hesitant. Max flits his eyes up to the hollow of Daniel's throat, to his full beard; to the pleading look stabbing daggers into the soft edges of Max that were once hard and unforgiving.

Stashing those polaroids was Max’s way to forget he wished to go back. He was never the one to leave in the first place; that was Daniel's sworn prerogative. But he's in Max's living room now, a lifetime away from running.

"Max–"

"I think," he cuts in before Daniel makes it worse or gives him hope. His hand slips from Daniel's hold and Max retraces his steps back to the kitchen. Daniel tracks his every move. "I think I will put them here."

He sticks the polaroids to the enormous fridge door with a Welcome to Monaco magnet he fished out of a nearby drawer. The photos look whacky but, to Max, it's a long shot. He lingers in place, berating himself for giving this another chance.

When he turns back around, Daniel is just an arm's length away.

"About that drink," Daniel says, low. Max watches his tongue dart out, wetting his lips. His heart jackhammers against his ribs.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Max's back hits the fridge.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic abou

#here's some emotional damage in the form of divorced (from other people) maxiel #i thought this would be shorter but alas...#you know me #vicsy writes #maxiel #maxiel fic #333 #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #daniel/max

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hyacintheros · 5 months ago

Text

Brand New City

4. Art Is Dead

|| (Marauders Era Characters x Fem!Reader)

Series Masterlist Previous Chapter

Pairing: Marauders Era Characters x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mean James

Word Count: 2.1k

P.S: I'm sorry it’s been awhile, going through writer's block :c Anywho, let me know what yall think!

“Y/N, darling? You look flush..” Cissa asks her, as the girl is falling into her breakfast. Cissa quickly props her up, feeling her head. “Oh you're going to need some Pepperup Potion, what happened?” The older girl pulls her up and supports her on the way to Madam Pomfrey. She thinks back to last night.

—♡—

Running into James, her parchments and books fly everywhere. “Sorry, let me help you with tha-”, James’ eyes scans over who he bumped into, retracting his helping hand with a disgusted look.

“You look stupid down there, just where you belong.” He says with a sneer, glaring while she picks her books up.

Standing back up with her things in order, she asks, “What is your issue? No matter how nice I am to you, it's like I've cursed your bloodline with the way you're acting!”

“You're my problem! A Slytherin! How could you call yourself a good person being in that godforsaken house? Don't you know what your house is known for? What they did to my family?” He pours out to her, anger glistening on his face.

“I have don't nothing wrong! My family has done you no wrong. You hang out with my cousin for Merlin's sake! Why does my house make me different? Why do the colours I wear change your perspective?” She yells out, pent up anger spilling with every word.

He steps forward, getting in her face. “Your house, your people, hurt my family, my parents! You and your cult of Death Eaters! Have you no shame?” He huffs in her face, pushing her back.

“Well if you haven't noticed, I'm a muggle! Why would I tangle myself in those ideals? You're literally best friends with my cousin, who is also a muggle, if you haven't noticed!” She pushes back, trying to move away from the wall.

In a burst of impulse, James pulls his wand out, “Aguamenti”. A jet of water douses the girl, soaking her to the bone.

Before she can retaliate, the boy runs away, likely back to his common room. The water-drenched girl heads to the Dungeons, her own common room awaiting her after curfew.

Padding her wet feet into the dorm, she keeps quiet, in hopes of keeping her roommates asleep.

She's too tired to run a bath, instead opting to change into her pyjamas and sleep with a tower on her pillow to dry her hair.

—♡—

“Oh look at you dear! Come sit on the bed, I'll fetch something to make you feel better.” Madam Pomfrey instructs, running off to her medicine cabinet.

Narcissa helps sit Y/N down, her shaking and shivering preventing her from denying help. “I'll tell your friend Remus so he can tell your professors that you can't come.” The sickly girl nods haphazardly.

The black haired girl leaves back to the Great Hall, making sure to tell Remus at the Gryffindor table before heading back to her own table.

Madam Pomfrey sends her off with a Pepperup Potion to her dorm, telling her to sleep away the cold.

She wobbles and trips, using the wall as assistance back to the dungeons. Upon entering the common room, it's empty with the fireplace lit. The girl heads up to her dorm, drinking half of the vial.

—♡—

“Well what do you mean she's sick, Remus?” The redhead persists, not noticing any signs of the cold or flu yesterday.

“I'm not sure exactly, one of her friends told me so I could tell the professors, but that's it.” Remus picks up his bag from under the table, waiting for Lily to follow along to class.

“I guess it makes sense why she told you first, you share most classes with her… should we visit her after classes are over?” Lily asks, her eyes glossy, never having seen her cousin sick before.

Remus ponders, wondering if they should give her privacy today. “We'll see after class? Let her rest a bit.” The two part ways to their respective classes, Remus let's Professor Sprout know that Y/N can't attend.

—♡—

Madam Pomfrey had given the girl some Pepperup Potion, sending her down to the Slytherin dorms to get some rest, sending her Professors a notice for her absence. Pomfrey assumed the girl she came with, Narcissa, has already told some friends.

In bed, she feels worse than before, telling herself that you have to feel worse before you feel better, which in hindsight, probably isn't the right mindset. She pulls the jumper tighter, puffing up her blanket more to get some warmth.

She shakes and shivers, restless and hungry, having not eaten as Cissa caught her right before she could grab breakfast when she sat down. That being said, she's too jello-like to fetch any food. Instead, praying that she'll be able to fall asleep soon.

Turning over to the nightstand, the girl rummages through the drawers, hoping to find any muggle pain killers she'd brought with her. Grabbing the case of painkillers and a small vial of night-time cough syrup, she takes it in hopes of feeling a little better, risking the unknown side effects of it being paired with a magical Potion.

Finally, thirty minutes later, the shivering stops and her mind at ease, falling asleep with a jumper on and two blankets resting on her. A dreamless nap overtakes her, soothing the girl mentally and physically.

—♡—

Severus had heard the news from Narcissa, gathered notes for her in the classes they shared, telling himself to visit her after classes are over.

By lunchtime, Remus had told Lily, Sirius, and a boy named Peter who had recently joined their little group of friends. James had heard through Lily, a twinge of guilt was felt in his stomach, seeing Lily worried for her cousin. He stuck to his act as a comforting friend for Lily, not wanting to see her too worked up over it, knowing he caused the girl to feel sick.

Sirius and Lily had shoved small snacks into their pockets, waiting to visit Y/N after class, while Remus took notes for her in class, grabbing a book he thinks she'll like from his collection. The three Gryffindors meet up in front of the Slytherin common room, now a little stumped as they don't know the password.

“What are you lot doing standing like duc- Ow!” Lucius gets a good smack on the arms from Narcissa. “Here to see Y/N? I'll let you in.” Cissa says with a charming smile. She looks to the portrait, “Anguis”, the portrait opens up, revealing the common room.

Cissa drops Lucius at the couch, then looking towards the red-robed kids. “Come on then. I'll take you to our room.” She grabs Lily's hand and walks to the girls dorms, the two boys following suite.

Pushing the door open, the sound of gentle, yet disturbed snoring filled the room, like something was blocking her nose. They pile into the room, approaching her sleeping form. Cissa opens the door, hearing a knock.

Severus walks in, parchments in hand, scanning the room of its guests, eyes landing on Lily. “Oh Severus! It's so good to see you.” The red-head says, not having seen him in a while. The Raven haired boy smiles, then greets her.

“Have you taken notes then? I think you're in some classes that I don't have with her, do you think we could combine notes then?” Remus says to him, seeing the stack of parchments the Slytherin boy carries.

“Some notes are overlapping, but I think we've got everything.” Severus tells Lupin, knowing they have one or two classes together. They sort through both piles, placing them carefully on her desk.

“Do you think we should let her sleep? Don't want to wake her up..” Lily says to Narcissa, wanting her opinion. “Honestly, I think she's slept about three or four hours now.. We should let her sleep more, heard her rustling in bed all night.”

The older girl let's them stay a little bit to leave some snacks for her, Sirius had munched a little through his during class, so it was mainly Lily who put some food on the bed-side table. They leave her dorm, thanking Narcissa for letting them in.

Cissa toddles back to Lucius, “They're not that bad, you know?” The blonde headed boy scoffs, rolling his eyes at her statement, going back to reading his book.

—♡—

Feeling terribly warm, being covered and layers of heat, she wakes up sweating, pulling off blankets and jumpers in the hopes of feeling coolness on her skin. Panning around the room, she spots a bun with some spreads. a teeny jar of strawberry marmalade and butter.

It's just past the evening, still an hour or two before dinner. She gladly takes the bun, not having eaten since dinner last night. As she munches, she looks at the desk, seeing a stack of parchments.

Getting up, the girl surveys the parchments flipping through, obviously being done by two different people. Skimming through the notes and titles, she realises it's class notes. Recognising Severus’ cursive, yet not being able to pinpoint the other person's handwriting, yet still feeling a sense of familiarity.

She goes back to the bed-side table, finishing up the rest of the Pepperup Potion- oddly tasting like strawberry cough syrup.

Bella enters quietly, unsure if the ill girl was still asleep. Gazing at the bed, the curly-haired girl perks up, “Darling, how do you feel? Cissy told me you weren't doing too well..” Y/N smiles, grateful she has people who care, like Cissa and Bella.

“I think it was just a small fever, feel almost better now.. D'you know who left these?” She says, referring to the snacks and parchments. “Cissy said she let your Gryffindor friends visit, plus Severus!” Bella responds, not being in the room when they visited.

The girl hums in acknowledgement, a sort of warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of her friends. Although, the reminder of the red house gives her a bad taste, thinking of how she got sick in the first place.

“What time is it? S'it time for dinner yet?” She pouts, still terribly hungry after munching the small bun. Bella nods and grabs her hand, pulling her to the Great Hall.

—♡—

“Now, you look much better than this morning! Keep this extra potion just in case you feel a little tingle of the cold left, right dear?” Madame Pomfrey hands her a small vial for safe keeping. She thanks the nurse, heading back to her dorm.

Travelling through the halls, a few students still linger before curfew, chit chatting with their friends. Behind her, someone calls out for the girl, “Hey! Did you get the parchments?” Remus, looking oddly dishevelled, says.

“It was you! I did, thank you so much by the way, don't know how I would've know about Uric the Oddball… Are you alright?” She points out how in a hurry he looks.

He shrugs it off, attributing it to a late night jog. “You look much better, glad you're doing well.” Y/N chuckles, thanking him once again for the notes. They quickly catch up about the day, Remus telling her about Sirius’ newest adventures.

Remus looks at his watch, his eyebrows pinching a little, “You better head to the dungeons, curfew is about to hit. Have a goodnight Y/N” Remus quickly says, rushing off.

Confused by his behaviour, the Slytherin instead chooses to think about how he wrote the notes for her.. her cheeks flush pink at the thought! Would he think she's slacking off just because she's sick? How troublesome. She goes back to the dorms, promising herself to study the topics before tomorrow's classes.

Briskly walking back to her dorm, she doesn't want to have another encounter with Potter, fearing he'll make her more than just sick. She ponders on what he said last night. ‘Death Eaters?’ What would make him think that she, a muggle born, would be a Death Eater?

Reaching the common room, she sees Lucius and Narcissa first. Plopping down, Lucius tells her the newest drama of the Slug Club, how terribly artificial the cherry pudding tasted. She laughs, finding his choice of topic amusing.

Spotting a long, raven-haired boy, she greets Severus, thanking him greatly for the potions notes. “S’not like you needed them.” The boy snaps back. In turn, she pats his shoulder, returning to her dorm to get some studying done. He waves her off, going back to his book. But deep down, he feels his head go lighter at her recognition…

#marauders #marauders x reader #narcissa malfoy x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #lily evans x reader #bellatrix lestrange x reader #slytherin reader #severus snape x reader

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