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babyfoxflower · 26 days ago

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Professor

Human! Professor! Alastor x Fem! Reader

Modern College AU

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Age Gap (Alastor is 32 and Reader is 22), Soft! Dom Alastor, Oral Sex (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Reader calls Al “Daddy,” Creampie

You groaned, “Fuck.”

You woke up to something soft rubbing against your face. You opened your eyes to see a cat drooling on your face.

I don’t have a cat.

You then realize that you’re not at home. The memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Immediate embarrassment washed over you. You sat up.

“Morning, Sunshine!”

“Morning, Professor,” the smell of bacon filled your nose.

“Come now, we’re not in class. Please call me Alastor,” he smiled at you.

Your vision focused to see Alastor making bacon and eggs.

“Hope you don’t mind, I made you breakfast. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“No, I love eggs and bacon. Thank you…Alastor,” his name felt strange on your tongue, but you liked it.

Your attention turned to the cat, her fur was pure white and she had big green eyes.

“Your cat is cute. What’s her name?” You asked.

“Oh, thank you. She is quite lovely, isn’t she? Her name’s Luna.”

“Luna? Like the moon?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t she remind you of a full moon?”

You studied her for a moment, “Yes, I suppose she does….” You grinned as you pet her.

“Breakfast is ready,” Alastor said casually as if this situation was normal.

Does he not feel how awkward this is? I, a student, came over drunk and tried to seduce him. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.

“Alright, thank you,” you replied as you got out of his bed, smoothing out the sheets the best you could, and moved to the couch.

Alastor sat down next to you and handed you your breakfast along with a fork for the eggs.

“I can make you some toast too, if you’d like?”

“No, thank you. You’re very kind, but this should be enough for now.”

As soon as you took a bite of those soft scrambled eggs, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t necessarily scarf them down, put you did eat them rather quickly.

“I assuming by your expressions, the eggs were good?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, he had also finished his portion.

“Mm, yes, they were delicious! They might be the best eggs I’ve ever had, what did you put in them?”

“Mayonnaise. It adds creaminess and deepens the flavor.”

“Mayo? I usually hate mayo. But this tasted amazing.”

“I also butter the pan instead of using cooking spray.”

“My, aren’t you quite the chef?” You chuckled.

“I learned from the best. However, I can’t quite get them to taste like my mom’s. I don’t know what her secret is, she won’t even tell me!” He laughed.

“Are you close to your mom?” You asked before taking a bite of bacon, trying to make light conversation.

“Yes. I don’t get to see her that often anymore. She still lives in New Orleans. But I try to keep in touch with her as much as I can.”

“Oh, are you from New Orleans?”

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised,” he said with a Southern drawl, there was pride in his voice.

“Ooo, I like that accent. Is it natural or put on?”

“Natural, however I’ve lost it a bit.”

“I guess moving so far up North will do that,” you smiled.

“Well, it didn’t help me keep it. That’s for sure,” he laughed. “How are you feeling, Darling? Does your head hurt at all?” He changed the subject.

“No, surprisingly. That Tylenol from last night must have worked.”

“I told you. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. You have a very comfortable mattress.”

You have a very comfortable mattress? Way to sound like a normal person, Y/n.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear? You keep making uncomfortable faces.”

“I’m alright, I just…feel a little awkward….”

“Why?”

“Because of last night.”

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward about that.”

“But I embarrassed myself.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t even do anything wrong, my dear,” he flashed you a reassuring smile.

“Still, that was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” you looked down at your bare feet, the shine of your red toe nail polish catching the light.

Alastor placed his plate on the coffee table before lifting up your chin, making you look at him, “Y/n, what you did in the grand scheme of things wasn’t even that bad. You haven’t at all changed my opinion of you, I still like and respect you. We all have rough nights, Darlin’.”

You put your plate down next to his. You brought your hand to his, giving it a light squeeze. He squeezed yours back.

“You want me to tell you an embarrassing story from my college days?” He asked.

“Yes,” you smiled.

The two of you leaned back on the couch. You rested your head on your arm as you listened intently to his story.

“Let’s see, it was my junior year, and my friends and I went out for a drinks. Back then, I wasn’t really good at pacing myself and would often end up getting plastered. Fast forward to the end of the night and I was stumbling up the steps to my apartment building. It was at that moment I realized that I had lost my key to my apartment.”

“Oh no.”

“Hold on, it gets worse. For some reason in my drunken state, I convinced myself that I couldn’t get in the building itself without my key,” he shook his head, “So I got this genius idea, I would scale the building all the way up to my roommate’s window and knock on it until he’d let me in.”

“Oh my god, did you fall!?”

“No, I actually succeeded in climbing up there. Amazingly, as it was on the tenth floor. The problem was my roommate wasn’t waking up. No matter how hard I banged on that window, he would not get out of bed. I was about to give up and find somewhere else to sleep that night, when I heard the sound of sirens.”

You knew where this was going, “Someone called the cops?”

“Someone called the cops.”

“What happened after that?”

“I explained everything to them the best I could. And then they informed me I didn’t need to have my key to get into the building, I could just have one of my neighbors buzz me in. I felt like the stupidest person alive,” he laughed.

“Did you ever make it to your apartment?” You giggled.

“Yes, it turns out that it wasn’t even locked. My roommate had a habit of not locking up before bed. And I didn’t even lose my key, it was in my back pocket,” Alastor visibly cringed, mentally face palming. “So, you see, my dear, you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Do you feel better now?”

“A little bit. Thank you, Alastor,” you blushed.

“Of course, Sweetheart,” he smiled.

You started to feel more at ease. There was something about him that made you feel safe and warm. You knew that you picked the right person to be with.

For whatever reason, a memory popped into your mind from last night. You remembered something Alastor had said to you before you went to sleep.

“I promise, if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I will give you exactly what you want.”

A small grin made its way on your face.

“You know, I think there’s something on your glasses. Let me get it off for you,” you moved from your spot on the couch and straddled his lap.

You took his glasses off his face carefully and pretended to examine them.

The whole time he had this smile on his face that made it evident that he knew exactly what you were doing and he was throughly enjoying it.

“Oh, my mistake. It must just been the light,” you slid his glasses back on him, smoothly tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

He chuckled, “If you wanted to sit in my lap, you could have just asked. I wouldn’t have said no.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re quite charming, you know that?”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, very much so. And quite gorgeous too, if I may be so bold?” He stroked your cheek bone with his thumb.

“You may. I wanted to ask you something?” You wrapped your arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist in turn, “Yes? What is it, dollface?”

You blushed at the old timey term of endearment, “Do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I said many things to you last night. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

You leaned in close to his ear, “You said, “if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I’ll give you exactly what you want,” well guess what? I’m still very interested.”

“Are you, now?” A sultry smirk formed on his lips. His hands slid down from your waist to your hips.

“Yes,” you nodded.

He squeezed your hips lightly. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”

You let out a little yelp as he lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. His cat immediately ran to hide under the sofa, as if she knew what was about to happen.

He laid you down on the bed, before crawling on top of you.

Alastor leaned in and you expected him to kiss your lips, but instead he started planting kisses up and down your neck.

“You tease!”

“Now, now. Patience is a virtue, my dear,” his breath hot against your skin.

“But I want to kiss you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You will. Just relax and let Daddy take care of you.”

Fuck that’s hot.

His words made your core heat up even more.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praised.

He returned to kissing your neck, nice and slow. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the cold of his glasses made for an interesting sensation. His mouth supple and skillful. He definitely knew what he was doing. He reached a particular place that had you moaning like crazy.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh.”

You had never experienced so much pleasure from something as simple as neck kissing before.

You could feel him smirking against your neck. He began focusing all his attention on that one spot. You ran your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. Kisses slowly turned into gentle sucking, producing a wet sound.

Alastor switched back and forth between kissing and sucking. You bit down on your lip as you let out little mews and moans. You noticed he started sucking down on your neck slightly harder.

Is he giving me a hickey?

He gave one final firm suck before pulling away with a satisfying pop.

After taking a moment to admire not just his handiwork but how absolutely breathtaking you looked, your face flushed and eyes darkened over with lust - which matched his own - and full of desperation, at last his lips finally met your needy ones.

Again the kissing started off slow, a sensual exchange between two tender mouths. Lips moved in sync with each others. Soft moans filled the room. His fingertips teasingly traced over your curves.

You tilted your head to the side, suddenly feeling his warm wet tongue on your bottom lip. He ran his tongue across the shape of your lip, wanting entry. You denied him playfully.

“Oh, so you’re going to be naughty, hmm?”

You didn’t respond, instead just smiling cheekily.

He locked lips with you again but this time, he bit down on your bottom lip and tugged on it a few times, not hard but enough to make you to make gasp.

“Oh Daddy, you have some sharp canines!”

Alastor took advantage of your open mouth, and slid his tongue in. You flicked the tip of his tongue with yours before letting him explore. It tickled slightly when he licked the roof of your mouth. You licked the soft underside of his tongue.

It took you a minute to notice that his sneaky hands found their way under your shirt and were unhooking your bra. You didn’t even have to help him, he got it off of you faster than any other guy you had ever been with. You were practically purring as those big strong hands of his started massaging your sensitive mounds. He groaned at how wonderful your tits felt in his palms. How easily they squished for him.

He continued to stimulate one of your breasts with one hand as he used his other hand to lift up your shirt. You helped him get it off of you. The sudden rush of cold air gave you goosebumps.

His eyes lit up, “You’re beautiful. Every inch of you is absolutely gorgeous, Darlin’.”

Those words were enough to turn you into a blushing mess with butterflies in your stomach.

“Please, Daddy. Just take me,” you begged as you pushed your bosoms together.

“Oh, I will. But please allow me the honor of getting to taste you first, Baby,” he raised an eyebrow seductively.

“Wait, you’ll actually do that?”

“Yes, I bet you taste divine. But of course if you’re not comfortable with it…”

“No I am, it’s just…this would the first time.”

“Oh I see, well then I’ll have to make sure that’s it’s extra enjoyable for you,” he grinned.

Alastor began kissing his way down from your collarbone to your chest, from your chest to your stomach, and from your stomach to the seam of your jean shorts - they were the ones that were high rise and had three buttons. Slowly, he unbuttoned them one by one before undoing the zipper. All the while, he watched as you bit your lip from anticipation.

He smirked, “No panties?”

“I thought it would be a pleasant surprise,” you winked.

“Indeed it was, my little peach,” he rid you of your remaining item of clothing.

He spread your legs open, licking his lips at the sight of your soaking pussy. You let out a little squeak as he lifted up your hips and pulled you closer. You wondered what it was even going to feel like. You had only ever been fingered.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Alastor planted a kiss on your inner thigh, “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

You lightly grasped his hair as he slowly ran his tongue up and down your labia. It felt so warm. You covered your mouth to try to muffle the amount of moans that were escaping you. He continued with long strokes from your clit to your entrance. You could feel him groaning against your vulva as if you were the best thing he ever tasted. The vibrations only added to the pleasant sensation.

Suddenly, you felt a finger enter you. It reached up deep in your cunt until it found that special place inside of you. He added another one of his nimble fingers, stimulating your sweet spot with a come hither motion.

“Daddy,” you drooled.

You closed your eyes, tears starting to form around your eyes.

“Baby, look at me.”

“No! It feels too good!”

“Please, dear, look at me.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, his face buried in your pussy.

“Good girl,” he praised, “Also, don’t muffle your adorable noises so much. I quite enjoy them.”

“Ye…yesss, Daddy.”

You gripped onto the sheets, making sure to keep eye contact with him. Your wails of pleasure mixed with the squelching sounds coming from your cunt. The smell of sex filled the air.

Alastor’s attention turned to your clit, flicking it a few times with his tongue. To which you made a noise that you had never made in your entire life. It was not long until you felt that coil tightening in your stomach, your walls fluttering on his fingers.

“…’m close…” you managed to get out.

“Is that so? I better pick up the pace then,” a smug smirk made its way onto his face.

Before you could even ask what that meant, he latched his mouth down on your bundle of nerves, his head bobbing slightly as he sucked. His fingers moved in and out of you faster. Your head fell back and your toes curled as you felt that coil, not just come undone, but snap. You screamed out his name as you gushed all over him. He gladly drank up all the nectar that you gave him, moaning as he savored every last drop.

You laid there for a seconds while coming down from your high, you breath heavy. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. It was as if your soul had ascended out of your body.

Alastor gave one final little kiss on your clit, “Mmm, that was absolutely delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

You chuckled lightly, “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”

“Meal? That was merely the appetizer,” he smiled, licking your remaining juices of his fingers.

He got up and began to undress. You watched him intently as he unbuttoned his shirt. He was lean and muscular. That with his handsome face, lovely eyes, and gorgeous hair, he was absolute smoke show.

“My, oh my, Daddy, I didn’t know you had a six pack!” You licked your lips, “and look at those guns too. Absolutely scrumptious.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me self conscious,” he joked.

“Please, you have a beautiful body,” you said looking him up and down.

“Not as beautiful as yours,” he replied.

“You always know what to say,” you blushed.

“Well, I am a Communications professor,” he said as he unbuckled his belt.

That’s right, you had almost forgotten that he was a professor, your professor.

Oh well, already made it this far with him. Might as well keep going.

You flipped over onto your stomach, facing him, “Do you mind if I help you with this last part, Daddy?” You reached out, fingering the button of his pants.

“Be my guest, dollface,” he grinned.

You slowly undid the button, before pulling down the zipper. Excitement washed over you as you helped free his hardened member from his boxers. Not only was it big but pretty too.

You took it into your hand, pumping it a few times, “Mmm…Daddy, you have a nice big cock.”

He let out a deep moan as you gently wrapped your lips around the head, letting your tongue run across the tip.

“Ah, as lovely as that feels, my darling,” Alastor took hold of your chin, “I don’t think I can wait much longer to fuck your pretty little pussy.”

His smooth voice, like velvet, sent a shiver through you. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva connected your lips to the tip of his dick.

He finished taking off his pants and boxers before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You crawled backwards, lips still locked with his, on the bed until your head reached the pillows. You adjusted your head on the soft pillow until you find the right position.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

He smiled and brushed your hair out of your face, “Let me know if you need or simply want to stop, alright? Your comfort is my number one priority, my dear.”

You stroked his face, “You’re so sweet. I’ll let you know.”

He lifted your leg and placed on his shoulder before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, please fuck me, Daddy.”

You took a deep breath as he started to ease himself into your pussy. Your walls stretched to accommodate his large cock. Little moans escaped your lips. He groaned in satisfaction.

“Fuck…” he hissed, “Your cunt fits me perfectly, Baby. Like you were made to take me.”

You blushed. “Maybe I was…” you mumbled under your breath.

Alastor suddenly reached that special place inside of you, to which you mewed loudly. He smirked and rolled his hips. You reached down to rub your clit, but he beat you to it.

He began to thrust in and out of you, slow and steady, making sure to hit that spot inside you every time. His name kept slipping past your lips, “Alastor…Alastor…oh, Alastor.”

He put his forehead to yours, making sure the only thing you could focus on was him, “Y/n, you sound so pretty,” he moaned before kissing you.

You traced the muscles of his back as you returned his kisses. You carefully removed your leg from his shoulder before wrapping both of your legs around his waist. You wanted him to be as close to you as possible.

He took hold of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours, gently pinning your arms against the pillow, as he positioned himself so that his pubic bone was stimulating your bundle of nerves. You moved your hips in rhythm with his.

As soon as he pulled away, you took the opportunity to plant a few kisses on his Adam’s apple. You were planning on giving him a hickey to match the one he gave you. He moaned, the vibrations tickling your lips. You got your mouth as low as you possibly could, before starting to suck.

“You naughty little thing,” he playfully scolded.

You kissed and sucked his tender skin until you were satisfied that it left a mark.

“What? I’m just returning the favor,” you innocently said.

You let out a yelp as Alastor suddenly picked up the pace. It was then you realized that coil was tightening in stomach again, your spongy walls fluttering on his big cock.

“I’m…close,” you moaned.

“Cum for me, baby, come undone on my cock,” he licked the shell of your ear.

The bed creaked, the lewd sound of slurping mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, accompanied by the chorus of moans and sighs. Alastor looked into your eyes as you had yet your second orgasm. This time, your eyes rolled back, your mouth agape.

He groaned nonstop as your pussy milked him, coaxing him to climax as well. But he wouldn’t let himself just yet. He fucked you through your high.

“Roll over for me, Darlin’.”

“What?” You asked.

“Please, I want to feel you cum just one more time,” he kissed your forehead.

“Alright,” you rolled over on your stomach.

You had never been taken from behind before.

“Oh, you’re gorgeous from this position too,” he said as he ran his hands down your back.

He paused when he got to your lower back before squeezing your ass, “Cute tattoo,” you could feel him smirking.

You had a little heart tattoo on your left cheek. You blushed, burying your face into the pillow, “Thank you.”

He chuckled before reinserting himself into you, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

He soon found an even rhythm. He planted kisses on your shoulder. You purred as he took one of your tits into his hand, massaging your nipple with his thumb. His other hand found its way on your swollen clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Feels so good, Daddy!” You cried out as you reached behind you, gripping his hair.

“Keep pulling my hair,” he huffed into your ear.

You obeyed and tugged lightly on it as you were reaching your third climax. The coil built up and came undone. This time when you milked him, you could feel him twitching inside of you.

“Fuck. I’m close,” he growled in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Daddy,” you begged.

“Are you sure, dollface?”

“Yeah…it’s fine…I’m on the pill.”

Alastor moaned your name as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.

“So warm,” you moaned, stroking your lower stomach.

He collapsed on top of you, his member softening inside you. Both of you were covered in sweat, faces flushed, panting.

He rolled over next to you, pulling you into his arms. You turned your body so that you could face him.

Alastor smiled and kissed you gently, “You’re…perfect...”

“No…that’s…all you. Mister ‘I value the woman’s pleasure over my own.’ You are a dream come true.”

He laughed, “I’m far from perfect, Sweetheart. I just try to make others happy. Though, I’ll admit the only person happiness I’m interested in is yours now.”

You blushed, “I feel the same. I’m only interested in making you happy.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he pulled you even closer to him.

“Alastor?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can we do this again sometime?”

“Only if you let me buy you dinner first next time,” he grinned.

“Nothing would make me happier,” you smiled brightly, snuggling up in his chest.

He hummed as he stroked your hair, fully satisfied in every way possible.

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paddockletters · 27 days ago

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close to you | jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x reader summary: after months of long-distance dating, you finally meet Jude's family, share moments together leading to a conversation about moving in together request: yes / thank you sooo much for you request!

Being in a long-distance relationship with Jude had its ups and downs. Video calls filled our evenings, laughter echoing through the screens, but I often missed the warmth of his presence. The anticipation of finally meeting his family sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“Are you ready for this?” Jude asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he pulled up to his family’s house.

“I think so! But what if they don’t like me?” I fretted, twisting the ring on my finger.

“Don’t worry; they’ll love you. Just be your charming self” he teased, nudging me with his elbow.

As we walked inside, Jude’s mom, Denise, greeted us with a warm hug.

“Y/N! I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

“Thank you for having me! It’s wonderful to be here" I replied, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.

“Jude talks about you all the time” Denise said, her smile wide.

“Does he?” I glanced at Jude, who looked a bit embarrassed.

“Just the good stuff” he shot back playfully, earning a gentle shove from me.

“So, you’re the infamous Y/N. Jude's been raving about you. Just wait until I share his childhood stories!” Jobe, Jude’s brother, strolled into the room, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey! No stories, Jobe!” Jude interjected, his face flushing a shade of red.

“Oh come on, I have to give Y/N the real scoop!” Jobe laughed, giving me a wink.

As the afternoon unfolded, the kitchen filled with laughter and delicious smells from the family dinner Denise prepared. I felt myself relaxing as Jude wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

“So, Y/N, what’s your favourite dish?” Denise asked as we sat around the table.

“I love Italian food!” I exclaimed, sharing how I once tried to make homemade pasta and ended up with a huge mess.

“That sounds like quite the adventure!” Jude chuckled, nudging me playfully. “Maybe I’ll let you cook for me next time?”

“Only if you help!” I retorted, laughing.

As the evening went on, I felt the warmth of Jude’s family wrapping around me, but a small knot of insecurity lingered. When Jude playfully teased me about my cooking skills, I felt a flicker of doubt.

“Hey, don’t let him get to you! You’re doing great,” Jobe chimed in, winking at me.

“Yeah, don’t listen to him. He burns toast” Jude added with a smirk.

“Alright, fine! I’ll take your word for it,” I said, trying to brush it off, but I excused myself to the guest room, feeling the weight of the moment.

Jude followed, concern etched on his face.

“babe, wait! What’s going on?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“I just… I want your family to like me” I confessed, my voice trembling slightly.

“They already do. They see how happy you make me” he said softly, his hands gently cupping my face. “You mean the world to me, and that’s what matters.”

“Really?” I asked, feeling my heart swell.

“Absolutely. Now, let’s go back out there and have some fun together” he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead, sending butterflies racing in my stomach.

As we stepped back into the living room, the mood shifted. Jude took my hand, intertwining our fingers as Jobe launched into another childhood story, making us all laugh.

With our family meeting behind us, our focus shifted to the upcoming Valentine’s Day in Paris. Jude had planned a surprise trip, and I could hardly contain my excitement.

The moment we arrived, the magic of the city enveloped us. Walking hand in hand along the Seine, I looked up at Jude.

“This is incredible. Thank you for bringing me here” I said, the Eiffel Tower shimmering in the distance.

“Anything for you” he replied, leaning down to kiss my cheek. The warmth of his lips lingered, making me blush.

As we strolled through the cobbled streets.

“Look at that! Can we get a portrait?” I pointed at a street artist.

“Sure, but only if I get to keep it.” Jude smiled, nodding.

“Deal! Just promise not to make a funny face” I joked.

We approached the artist, and after a few giggles and playful banter, he captured us in a moment that felt perfect. As we looked at the drawing, I laughed.

“You look like a dashing rogue!”

“Yeah, and you look like a princess” he said, his gaze warm.

Later that evening, we dined at a quaint bistro, the atmosphere glowing with candlelight.

“This is amazing, Jude” I sighed, taking in the ambiance.

“I knew you’d love it” he said, his eyes sparkling. He reached across the table, taking my hand.

After dinner, we walked back to our hotel, the city lit up like a dream. Jude suddenly stopped, pulling me close.

“Hey, let’s take a picture with the Eiffel Tower in the background” he suggested.

“Great idea! Say ‘cheese’!” I grinned, but as we posed, he leaned in, whispering.

“You’re cute” and snapped the picture just as I blushed.

“Jude!” I giggled, swatting him playfully.

“I meant it” he chuckled, his eyes dancing.

Later that night, after a delightful dinner, we decided to hit the club scene. The music pulsed around us as we danced, completely immersed in the rhythm of the night.

“Let’s show them how it’s done!” Jude exclaimed, pulling me to the dance floor.

“I’m ready! Just try to keep up!” I challenged playfully, and we lost ourselves in laughter and movement.

As we twirled and swayed to the beat, Jude’s hands found my waist, pulling me close.

“You have the best dance moves” he said, grinning.

“I’ll take that as a compliment! But you’re not too shabby yourself” I teased back, leaning in to whisper in his ear, feeling his breath tickle my neck.

When the music slowed, Jude wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“I could stay like this forever” I murmured.

“Me too” he replied, gently tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. His lips met mine in a soft kiss that sent sparks through me, deepening as he pulled me closer.

After a night of dancing, we returned to the hotel room, exhilarated but exhausted.

“That was amazing” I sighed, flopping onto the bed.

“See? I knew you’d love it” Jude said, sitting beside me with a satisfied smile.

Summer arrived, and we planned a getaway with friends to a beautiful beach destination. The sun, sand, and laughter filled our days, making memories that felt like pure bliss.

“Hey, what do you think about renting those paddleboards tomorrow?” one of our friends suggested while lounging on the beach.

“I’m in! Just don’t expect me to be a pro” I laughed, already picturing myself face-planting into the water.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there to rescue you” Jude said, grinning. “Maybe we’ll make a game out of it—who can fall off first?”

“Challenge accepted!” I shot back, nudging him playfully.

As we soaked up the sun, Jude pulled me aside.

“Can we chat for a moment?” he asked, leading me away from the group.

“Sure, what’s up?” I replied, curious.

He looked serious for a moment, glancing back at our friends before speaking.

“I’ve been thinking… would you want to move in together?"

“Really? You want me to move in?” I was taken aback, my heart racing.

“Absolutely. I think it would be amazing” he said, his excitement evident.

“Does your mom agree?” I asked, wanting to ensure that this was what everyone wanted.

“I think she’d love it. She’s been saying she’d be happy to have you around,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face.

I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart swelling with joy.

“Then yes! I’d love to!” Jude pulled me into a warm embrace.

“I can’t wait to start this new chapter with you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Me neither” I replied, leaning up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham blurbs #football blurb #football imagines #football imagine #footballer imagine

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roosterforme · 2 months ago

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Okay but you know we need some future domesticated Jake & darlin with kids in our lives

Jake carefully extracted himself from bed, shifting incrementally to ensure he didn't wake you. Yesterday's clothing was strewn on the floor after last night's adventure. He picked up his underwear and undershirt and put them on again, leaving the room to head off his sons who were early risers.

"Daddy," Asher said with a yawn as he walked out of his bedroom. "I'm hungry."

"I know, kiddo," he whispered, picking up the seven year old and taking him to the kitchen. "So am I."

A few seconds later, Liam was there, too. Stomachs were growling, but Jake shook his head when they reached for milk and cereal.

"Today is so special, we're going to make French toast."

Liam's eyes lit up. "I forgot, it's mom's birthday!"

"Mom's fortieth birthday," Jake added, handing the cinnamon to Asher. His desire to make the day special was strong, and now both boys were excited as well.

"I want to crack the eggs," Asher said, climbing up on a chair to see better.

"I want to dunk the bread," said Liam, squeezing in front of Jake.

All three of them were hard at work when you woke up and walked down the hallway. "It smells good out here," you said, announcing your arrival. The three of them all abandoned their post in the kitchen to get to you.

Jake didn't mind sharing your attention with the boys. But when he whispered, "Happy birthday, Darlin'," you kissed him with so much need, he started counting down the hours to bedtime.

#if you ask emily #jake seresin x reader #fake it til you jake it #fake it til you jake it hc

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eddiernunson · 4 months ago

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Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington!Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

Part 1 is now Posted

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You're home for the weekend, which so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve's daughter), multichapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, use of marijuana, perv!Eddie

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve's freckles. No skin colour, body shape/type

(Unedited) Excerpt Here:

The smell of his Irish Spring soap hits the kitchen before he does, walking into the kitchen mid yawn and fresh from his shower. Eddie’s shirt clings to his lithe torso like a second skin, showing off just the hint of a tummy with his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. You allow yourself one second to gawk at him and the hairs that peek out of his shirt until you reshift your focus back to your toast, panicking when you notice the jam that has dripped on your hand. Oh, shit again?

“What’s with the fancy get up, dude?” Eddie asks, pouring himself a cup as well.

“Before we get to that, Sunshine has put some toast in for you.” Steve gestures with his coffee cup.

Eddie’s brows lift, looking just the littlest bit delighted as he turns toward the toaster. “Oh, thanks!” He snaps his fingers into a gun with his thumb and pointer finger, sending a wink your way. You’re mid-‘clean-up’ on your hand, rushing to finish before you nod to acknowledge his thanks.

“Alright. My partner called,” he means work partner, “he needs help to close this deal. He’s having a really hard time doing it himself.”

”Who did you send?” You ask, knowing a little bit of his work drama.

Steve hisses, wincing as he says, “Warner.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as the toast pops out of the toaster. “Well no wonder!”

Eddie has been watching this like a tennis match, completely out of the loop but entertained nonetheless. “What, what’s wrong with…Warren?”

“Warner,” you correct him, cleaning up yet another spill of jam off your thumb. “The guy sucks. Why Warner, why not Tommy?”

“Wait, why does he suck?” Eddie asks as he spreads butter on his toast, looking way too entertained about this.

“Because he’s a 22-year-old fuckwit that doesn’t know how to close and only got this job because his dad gave it to him when he retired,” you huff, not at all distracted by how Eddie is eating his toast; like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, savoring every bite. His tongue occasionally pokes out to lap at the butter on his lips, his eyes closed as he muffles sounds at the back of his throat.

He makes eating toast look depraved.

“Sunshine, you’re 22,” Steve squints, lifting his cup towards you accusingly.

You scoff. “Yeah but I’m not an entitled dickwad who thinks just because his daddy had a job ‘oh, that’s my job one day!’. He has no experience versus his father who was in the game for 25 years.” You’re very passionate about this, more so than you had even anticipated. “Seriously, why him?”

“He’s the only one who didn’t take the Fourth of July weekend off because he’s a 22 year old fuckwit with no family.” He takes a large sip of his coffee before setting it on the counter. “Well in any case, you are right. He has no experience and we need this account, so I gotta help him out.”

“When do you think you’ll be back?” Eddie asks, giving you a fresh whiff of his soap when he walks behind you to sit on the other side of the island.

Steve crosses his arms and leans against the table, mentally preparing himself before he disappoints the two of you, “Not til Sunday.”

“Shitty,” Eddie sighs sympathetically.

“Dad I can only take one week off,” you sigh, having only gotten two days with him. “When you get back I’ll only have one more day.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He does genuinely sound remorseful. You know he’d stay if he had any other choice, but he doesn’t.

“You know anyone else in town who could…” Eddie starts, obviously reminding your dad of something he forgot about.

“Shit. Hmmm.” Steve’s eyes flicker to you, “Sunshine can do it.”

You pause mid-bite in hearing your nickname. “Sunshine can do what?”

“I don’t wanna bother her on her vacation.” Eddie states, dismissing Steve’s offer.

Your dad saved him off, “I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

“What am I doing?” You ask more assertively, finally grabbing their attention.

Eddie finally speaks first, “Oh, I asked your dad to help me pack up my uncles things. It’s a tedious process, I can get—“

“No, she’d be happy to help,” Steve offers again, looking at you and jerkily nodding his head towards Eddie.

You’d be happy to help, you’re just thinking about the amount of time you’ll be alone with Eddie. Your plan was to keep a safe distance from him, allowing a free show in your best summer clothing while enjoying the hot weather. The close quarters your dad is sending you into sounds dangerous, butterflies erupting into your ribcage as you picture the deafening silence surrounding the two of you knee deep in his uncle’s things.

“I’m happy to help,” you tell him, getting up to put your plate away.

“I don’t want to force her into—“

“My dad can’t force me into doing shit,” you scoff, ignoring your dads own scoff. Now Eddie on the other hand could demand you to bark and you would. Down on the ground, on all fours. “Besides. You two wouldn’t have gotten any actual organization done.”

“Thanks,” Eddie lifts his mug, giving you a wink. Your neck hair rises, scanning his arched nose and the rebelling stubble already growing in despite having freshly shaved. His aftershave is intoxicating, the sound of a glass mug clinking as it lands on the counter snapping you out of your daze.

“When are you leaving?” You suddenly remembered your dad’s presence in the kitchen, funny how fast you forgot about him.

“I should get going within the hour,” he states thoughtfully, grimacing apologetically when you give him sad eyes. You know it's not his fault, but you’re not the adult here, and the disappointment you feel can’t help but twist your features.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, petting them with his thumbs. “I do feel better knowing I’m not leaving you all alone in this big empty house.”

You tense up, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to smile. Being left all alone with Eddie in the big empty house is precisely what is worrying you. Your dad’s constant presence alone is the thing that has prevented you from even being tempted into going any further than elongated stares and late night fantasies.

“I’ve been alone in the house before,” you say, tilting your head. “You’re about to be alone for the rest of the month.” That sentence just makes you feel sad.

He smirks, shaking his head playfully. “I meant at least if I’m ditching you for work, then at least I’m not leaving you all alone. I was trying to alleviate my own guilt.”

“I’ve already forgiven you, old man,” you tell him. “Go, rescue those poor investors from Warner’s slippery hands.”

He pulls you in for a hug, his heartbeat familiar as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. Your head is swung back abruptly as he pushes on your shoulders, leaning in conspiratorially. “Hey, there are worse people to leave you alone than the man that was once on a poster on your wall, hey?”

That poster was stared down many times, finally taken down when you were about to move away, kept only because of the autograph in the bottom corner.

Regardless, your dad is having too much fun with this. You wonder who would have more fun if Eddie ends up bending you over the couch like you kept envisioning. Said rockstar currently bending over the couch to grab something jolted you back to the present.

“And who gave me that as a gift after introducing me to his music?” You shoot back, meeting those chocolate brown eyes across the living room.

“My ears are burning,” Eddie grins, walking around the couch to plug in the amp.

“Are your keys burning, because I need a ride to the airport.” Steve interjects, smirking at your widened eyes.

Eddie sits on the couch, one foot resting on the coffee table as he starts playing his guitar absentmindedly. “I am your noble steed at your service, Harrington. Just tell me when.”

Steve answers with something, probably somewhat sarcastic before climbing the stairs to finish packing. You probably would’ve heard it if it weren’t for how absentmindedly his fingers were moving, individually plucking the strings as his other hand shifts easily to each corresponding chord.

He is delicate with the instrument, expertly working her and zoned out as the guitar’s gentle tune fills the house. His many years spent playing is evident through how easy he plays the melody, getting lost in the song with his hands working idly. If it weren’t for his eyes being shut for the whole time, you would’ve probably pretended to go on your phone.

His effortlessness of plucking the strings sends a thrill down your spine, has your thighs squeezing tightly together as your mind starts to picture his fingers expertly working you apart.

“Ow!”

Eddie’s yelp snaps you out of it, making you jump as you hurriedly switch your glance back to your phone. He chuckles as he sucks his sore thumb, the very same one the guitar string snapped on. “Sorry, did I scare ya?”

“No,” you answer, sounding not at all convincing to yourself. Eddie lifts his brow to you, his face comically twisted as he continues to tend to his wound. “Okay, maybe a little.”

He chuckles, smirking as he adjusts the guitar on his lap again. “Poster in your room?”

Fuck, you were hoping he didn’t hear that, despite him being in earshot.

“Well it was signed and it just so happened to be one of my favorite albums.” Despite your nerves tickling the surface right under your skin, you do your best to seem unfazed by his magic fingers.

His brows furrow, delicately playing a soft rock melody. At least, you think it's soft rock. “Which one?”

”Hell’s Angels,” you answer candidly. You do like the songs of Freak! More, but you specifically requested a poster of Hell’s Angels because of the dark look in Eddie’s eye while he’s looking directly in the listener.

There may have been a night where you placed it perfectly on the wall so it appears he’s between your open legs to make it easier to picture him glancing up at you while he—

He tilts his head dismissively lifting one side of his upper lift in a sneer. “Not my best. If I had to pick a favorite, and don’t tell anyone I said this, it’d be Freak!”

You blink in surprise, grinning to yourself as you listen to the gentle strum of his guitar.

“I do remember sending that poster off though, Steve never mentioned who it was for, I just figured It would earn him some serious brownie points for a girl he was chasing.” It feels so weird to hear about your dad dating, even after all these years.

“Nope,” you shrug. “Just his favorite daughter.”

“Shit,” he laughs, a hiccup in his guitar play, “if you wanted an autograph you should’ve just asked. Only takes me two seconds.”

Your mind buzzes with the offer, probably a throwaway comment of his, but just the offer alone is enough to send you almost on a mental spiral.

I'd add more but the first chapter is only at 5k or so

if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! (if you're on my taglist you will be tagged for the post)

I'm aiming to post at least once a week but that might be ambitious. Aesthetic pictures will be updated with each chapter!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson

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bratzkoo · 2 months ago

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yours, always and forever | jeonghan

Author: bratzkoo | beta read by: @spnyin Pairing: perfumer! jeonghan x estrange wife! reader Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 5.9k Warnings/note: went on a shopping trip with my mom and i cried when i smelled rose kabuki by dior. Happy National Boyfriend's Day to our boyfriend, Jeonghan.

summary: Perfumer Yoon Jeonghan took the Perfume industry by storm with his intriguing perfume names that seems to be inspired by one specific person which makes the industry question, who is he even naming his creations after? Only Y/N, Jeonghan’s estrange wife knows the answer.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The soft glow of the setting sun painted the New York skyline in hues of gold and pink, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern interior of the penthouse apartment where Yoon Jeonghan stood, gazing out at the city he'd conquered. In his hand, a delicate crystal glass held a swirl of amber liquid, its aroma mingling with the lingering scents that always clung to him—a symphony of olfactory notes that had become his signature.

Jeonghan took a sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. His eyes, dark and intense, reflected the city lights beginning to twinkle in the twilight. At thirty-two, he was at the pinnacle of his career, a prodigy in the world of perfumery, and the toast of the fashion and beauty industries. For the third year in a row, the title of Perfumer of the Year sat comfortably on his shoulders, a crown he wore with a mixture of pride and nonchalance that only added to his allure.

The gentle ping of his phone drew his attention away from the view. Another congratulatory message, no doubt. They had been pouring in all day, ever since the announcement of his latest triumph. Jeonghan ignored it, choosing instead to walk over to his workspace—a sprawling, custom-designed lab that took up nearly half of his living area.

Here, amidst the orderly chaos of beakers, pipettes, and countless vials of essences and extracts, was where the magic happened. This was where he crafted the scents that had taken the world by storm, perfumes that didn't just smell divine but told stories, evoked memories, and stirred emotions in ways that left critics and consumers alike in awe.

Jeonghan's fingers trailed over the labels of his latest collection, a small smile playing on his lips as he read each name aloud:

"You, in the Garden."

"You, in Greece."

"You, in the Club Holding Your Favorite Drink."

"You, in New York."

Each name was a whisper of the past, a fragment of a story that the public could only guess at. And guess they did. Entire forums were dedicated to deciphering the meaning behind Jeonghan's enigmatic perfume names. Who was this mysterious 'you'? A lover? A muse? A figment of the perfumer's vivid imagination?

Speculation ran rampant. Some theorized it was a marketing ploy, a clever way to personalize each scent for the wearer. Others believed Jeonghan was leaving breadcrumbs, telling his own story through these olfactory chapters. The more romantic souls insisted it was an ode to a lost love, each perfume a memory crystallized in scent.

If only they knew.

Jeonghan's smile faded as he picked up the bottle of "You, in New York." The weight of it in his hand felt heavier than it should, laden with memories he both cherished and tried to forget. He uncapped it, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Notes of crisp apple and bergamot gave way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by a base of sandalwood and vanilla. But beneath these carefully orchestrated notes lay something else, something only he could detect—the ghost of her perfume, the one she wore on that last night.

Across the city, in a modest but charming brownstone in Brooklyn, Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and birthday cards. The celebration had been small but joyful, a gathering of the close friends who had become her support system over the past few years. As the night wound down and the last guest departed, she found herself alone with her thoughts and the pile of gifts yet to be properly examined.

One box in particular caught her eye. It was elegant, wrapped in matte black paper with a single silver ribbon. There was no card, no indication of who it was from. Curiosity piqued, Y/N carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper.

Her breath caught in her throat as she revealed the contents. Nestled in a bed of black satin was a bottle she recognized all too well, even though she had never held it before. The clean lines of the glass, the minimalist label with its distinctive handwritten font—it was unmistakably one of Jeonghan's creations.

With trembling hands, Y/N lifted the bottle. "You, in New York," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. A humorless laugh escaped her lips. How fitting, how cruelly ironic that of all his perfumes, this would be the one to find its way to her.

New York. The city where dreams came true and hearts were broken. The city where, five years ago, she had celebrated her last birthday with Jeonghan. It had been magical—a surprise weekend getaway, a whirlwind of Broadway shows, candlelit dinners, and long walks through Central Park. It was the last time she remembered feeling truly, incandescently happy.

It was also the weekend that marked the beginning of the end.

Y/N uncapped the bottle, hesitating for just a moment before bringing it to her nose. The scent hit her like a wave, transporting her instantly back to that weekend. She could almost feel the crisp autumn air on her skin, hear the bustling streets, see Jeonghan's smile as he pulled her close on top of the Empire State Building.

Unbidden, tears began to fall, leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. Five years. Five years since she had spoken to him, seen him, been in the same room as him. And yet, with one carefully crafted scent, he could still reach across that divide and touch her very soul.

They weren't divorced—the paperwork sat untouched in a drawer in her study, a task neither of them seemed able to bring themselves to complete. But they might as well have been strangers for all the communication that passed between them. Estranged was the word the media used when they bothered to mention her at all. Jeonghan's mysterious wife, who had disappeared from the public eye as swiftly and suddenly as Jeonghan had risen to fame.

Y/N set the bottle on her nightstand, unable to put it away but unwilling to hold it any longer. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the countless birthday messages until she found the one she was looking for. It was from her best friend, Mina:

"Hey birthday girl! Hope you loved all your gifts. That last one... the perfume. I hope it wasn't too much. When I saw it, I just thought... well, maybe it was time. You can't run from the past forever, Y/N. Call me if you need to talk. Love you!"

So it had been Mina. Y/N wasn't sure whether to thank her friend or curse her for this unexpected trip down memory lane. She fell back onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling as her mind raced.

Did Jeonghan know his perfume had found its way to her? Did he still think of her when he created these scents? Was she the 'you' in every bottle, or had someone else taken her place in his heart and his art?

Questions she had buried for years bubbled to the surface, demanding attention. Y/N closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and provide a temporary escape. But the scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a persistent reminder of all that had been and all that was lost.

Meanwhile, in his penthouse, Jeonghan had moved from his lab to his home office. The wall opposite his desk was covered in framed magazine covers and articles, a testament to his meteoric rise in the industry. His eyes, however, were fixed on a single frame tucked away in the corner of his desk. It was turned face down, but he knew every detail of the photograph it held—him and Y/N, laughing and in love, on their wedding day.

He reached for it, hesitating for a moment before picking it up and turning it over. They looked so young, so full of hope and dreams. Jeonghan traced the outline of Y/N's face with his finger, wondering not for the first time where she was, what she was doing, if she ever thought of him.

A notification on his computer screen drew his attention. It was an email from his publicist, marked urgent:

"Jeonghan,

The press is buzzing about your win and the launch of 'You, in New York.' Vogue wants an exclusive interview, and they're particularly interested in the inspiration behind your perfume names. I've held them off so far, but we need to give them something. The mysterious artist angle only works for so long.

Also, there's been some renewed interest in your personal life. A few gossip blogs have dug up old photos of you and Y/N. Nothing scandalous, but we should be prepared for questions.

Let me know how you want to handle this.

- Somin"

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a frown creasing his brow. He had known this day would come eventually. The perfume industry thrived on stories, on the personalities behind the scents. He had managed to maintain an air of mystery for years, letting his creations speak for themselves. But now, with his continued success and the increasingly personal nature of his perfume names, the world wanted more.

How could he possibly explain the truth? That each perfume was a love letter, a memory, a piece of his heart poured into a bottle? That 'You, in the Garden' was born from lazy Sunday mornings spent in their tiny apartment's rooftop garden, Y/N's laughter mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers? That 'You, in Greece' captured the essence of their honeymoon, sun-kissed skin and salty air and the intoxicating feeling of being young and in love?

And 'You, in New York'... Jeonghan's gaze drifted back to the photograph. Their last happy moment, preserved in glass and scent. He had poured every ounce of his skill into that perfume, trying to capture not just the smells of the city, but the feeling of that weekend—the joy, the love, and the bittersweet edge of what was to come.

He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over Y/N's contact. He hadn't deleted it, couldn't bring himself to erase that last tangible connection. But he hadn't used it either, not in five long years. What would he even say?

"I'm sorry"?

"I miss you"?

"Every scent I create is a desperate attempt to hold onto the memory of us"?

Jeonghan set the phone down, leaving the call unmade. Instead, he turned back to his computer and began to type a response to his publicist:

"Somin,

Set up the Vogue interview. I'll give them the story they want.

As for my personal life, it remains personal. No comments on old photos or relationships.

- Jeonghan"

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. It was time to give the public a peek behind the curtain, to feed the curiosity that had been building for years. He would craft a story, something romantic and mysterious enough to satisfy the masses without revealing the raw, painful truth.

After all, isn't that what he did best? Create beautiful illusions, capture feelings in a bottle, tell stories through scent? This would just be another performance, another carefully constructed facade.

But as Jeonghan stood to pour himself another drink, his eyes fell once more on the photograph of him and Y/N. For a moment, the mask slipped, and a look of profound sadness crossed his face. All the success, all the accolades, all the adoration from fans around the world—none of it filled the Y/N-shaped hole in his heart.

In the quiet of his luxurious apartment, surrounded by the fruits of his success, Yoon Jeonghan—three-time Perfumer of the Year, creator of the most sought-after fragrances in the world—had never felt more alone.

As the night deepened, two souls on opposite sides of the city lay awake, each haunted by memories and might-have-beens. The scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a fragrant bridge across the chasm that separated them. Neither knew that this birthday, this perfume, this moment of remembrance, was about to set in motion a chain of events that would force them to confront their past and decide their future.

The sleek, modernist interior of Vogue's New York office buzzed with nervous energy as staff scurried about, making last-minute preparations. Today was no ordinary day—they were about to interview Yoon Jeonghan, the enigmatic perfumer who had captivated the fashion world with his mysterious creations.

Jeonghan sat in the makeup chair, his eyes closed as the artist applied a light touch of powder to his already flawless skin. He exuded an aura of calm, but beneath the surface, his mind raced. This interview was a calculated risk, a chance to satisfy the public's curiosity while maintaining the mystique that had become his trademark.

"Mr. Yoon, we're ready for you," a young assistant called, clipboard clutched to her chest.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, meeting his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his tie—a deep, midnight blue that brought out the intensity of his gaze—and stood. With a deep breath, he stepped into the lion's den.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed woman named Clara, greeted him with a professional smile. "Mr. Yoon, thank you for joining us. Shall we begin?"

As the cameras rolled, Clara launched into her questions, starting with the safe and expected before gradually probing deeper.

"Your latest fragrance, 'You, in New York,' has taken the world by storm," Clara said, leaning forward slightly. "Can you tell us about the inspiration behind it?"

Jeonghan's lips curved into a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "New York is a city of dreams and memories," he began, his voice smooth and measured. "I wanted to capture the essence of a perfect moment in time—the crisp air of a fall evening, the excitement of possibility, the bittersweet beauty of a fleeting experience."

"And the 'you' in the title?" Clara pressed. "Your fragrances all seem to be addressing someone specific. Is there a story there?"

For a fraction of a second, Jeonghan's composure slipped. A flicker of something—pain? longing?—crossed his face before the mask slid back into place. "The 'you' is everyone and no one," he said carefully. "It's the wearer of the perfume, the object of desire, the memory of a love lost or yet to be found. I believe that the most personal stories are often the most universal."

As the interview continued, Jeonghan wove a tale of inspiration drawn from travels, fleeting encounters, and imagined romances. It was a beautiful story, crafted as carefully as his perfumes. But those who knew him best might have noticed the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers occasionally twitched as if reaching for something—or someone—just out of grasp.

---

The publication of the Vogue interview sent shockwaves through the fashion and beauty world. Social media exploded with theories and interpretations of Jeonghan's words. Fan forums dissected every sentence, looking for hidden meanings and clues about the mysterious muse behind his creations.

@ScentObsessed tweeted: "OMG, did you catch how his voice changed when talking about 'You, in New York'? There's definitely a real story there! #YoonJeonghan #PerfumeMystery"

A popular beauty vlogger released a 20-minute video analyzing Jeonghan's body language during the interview, claiming to have spotted at least five instances where he seemed to be holding back tears.

Even serious fashion critics couldn't resist speculating. A piece in WWD posed the question: "Is Yoon Jeonghan's entire oeuvre an olfactory autobiography? The clues hidden in his fragrances."

---

Across the city, Y/N sat at her kitchen table, a cup of coffee growing cold beside her as she stared at her laptop screen. The Vogue article was open, Jeonghan's face looking back at her from a series of artfully shot photographs.

She had promised herself she wouldn't read it. Had sworn she was past all this, that she had moved on. But curiosity—and perhaps something deeper, something she wasn't ready to name—had gotten the better of her.

Now, as she read his carefully crafted words, Y/N felt a complex mix of emotions churning inside her. Anger at the half-truths, sadness at the memories his words evoked, and a traitorous flutter of her heart at the moments where she could see through his facade to the man she once knew so well.

A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. Y/N closed the laptop quickly, as if hiding evidence of a crime, before going to answer.

"Ms. Y/N?" A woman with a press badge stood in the hallway, notepad in hand. "I'm Mia from Style Weekly. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Yoon Jeonghan's latest interview."

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, moving to close the door.

The reporter's foot blocked the doorway. "Please, just a moment. Your connection to Mr. Yoon is a matter of public record. Surely you must have some insight into the inspirations behind his work?"

"No comment," Y/N managed, her voice strangled. She pushed the door closed with more force, hearing the reporter's muffled protests from the other side.

Leaning against the door, Y/N slid to the floor, her heart pounding. It was happening again. The life she had carefully rebuilt, separate from Jeonghan and his world of glitz and glamour, was threatening to crumble around her.

---

In his penthouse, Jeonghan paced back and forth, phone pressed to his ear. "Somin, I thought we agreed to keep my personal life out of this," he said, frustration evident in his voice.

His publicist's calm tones came through the speaker. "Jeonghan, we did our best, but you have to understand. The public is hungry for this. Your story, the mystery—it's what sells. The interview was a huge success."

"At what cost?" Jeonghan muttered, more to himself than to Somin.

After ending the call, he walked to his workspace, surrounded by the tools of his trade. His fingers trailed over the bottles of his creations, lingering on "You, in New York."

For a moment, he allowed himself to remember—truly remember, not the sanitized version he had presented to the world. He saw Y/N's smile as they watched the sunset from the Top of the Rock, felt the warmth of her hand in his as they strolled through Central Park.

Almost without conscious thought, his hand reached for his phone. Y/N's contact information stared back at him, unchanged after all these years. His thumb hovered over the call button.

A war raged inside him. The desire to hear her voice, to explain, to apologize, warred with the fear of rejection, of reopening old wounds.

In the end, he set the phone down, the call unmade. But the desire, the need, lingered.

---

"Y/N, have you seen this?" Mina's voice came through the phone, excitement evident. "Jeonghan's Vogue interview. Girl, he's talking about you."

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mina, please. You know I don't want to hear about—"

"No, listen," Mina interrupted. "He talks about a moment in New York, watching the sunset from a rooftop garden. That was you two, wasn't it? On your last birthday together?"

Y/N's breath caught. She remembered that evening with painful clarity—the golden light, the gentle breeze, the feeling that everything was perfect. It was mere days before it all fell apart.

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Honey," Mina said gently, "I think it does. He's been telling your story all along, in every bottle. Maybe... maybe it's time to tell yours."

After hanging up, Y/N found herself once again staring at the bottle of "You, in New York." She uncapped it, letting the scent envelop her. In that moment, she allowed herself to truly feel everything she had been suppressing for years.

The realization hit her like a wave: Jeonghan hadn't forgotten. Every perfume, every story, was a message in a bottle, cast out into the world in hopes that someday, somehow, it would reach her.

---

The charity gala was in full swing, the cream of New York society mingling amidst the glittering decor of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jeonghan moved through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, the perfect image of the successful artist.

He was in the middle of a conversation with a fashion designer when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with an old friend—one he shared with Y/N.

"Jeonghan," the friend said, a strange mix of emotions playing across their face. "It's been too long."

As they talked, catching up on the years that had passed, Jeonghan found himself hungry for any scrap of information about Y/N. He tried to be subtle, but his old friend saw right through him.

"She's doing well, Jeonghan," they said softly. "She's strong. But... I think she misses you too."

The words hit Jeonghan like a physical blow. He excused himself, making his way to a quiet corner of the museum. His carefully constructed world felt like it was shifting beneath his feet.

Across the city, Y/N was experiencing a similar upheaval. A mutual friend had let slip that Jeonghan had asked about her, that he still kept a photo of them on his desk.

As the night wore on, both Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves standing at a crossroads. The walls they had built, the distance they had maintained, suddenly seemed more like obstacles than protection.

Unbeknownst to each other, they both reached for their phones at nearly the same moment. Fingers hovering over screens, hearts pounding, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change everything.

In the air, the faint scent of "You, in New York" lingered, a reminder of what was lost and what, perhaps, could still be found.

The stage was set. The next move was theirs.

The Autumn chill nipped at Y/N's skin as she stood outside the small café, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. Her eyes darted nervously up and down the street, searching for a familiar face she hadn't seen in years. Her heart raced, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through her veins.

She almost jumped when her phone buzzed. A text from Jeonghan: "I'm here."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she spotted him rounding the corner. Jeonghan looked much the same as she remembered, yet somehow different. His hair was styled differently, and he carried himself with a weariness that hadn't been there before. But his eyes—those eyes that had once looked at her with such love—were as intense as ever.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the busy New York street faded away. It was just the two of them, standing on opposite sides of a chasm five years in the making.

Jeonghan reached her first, stopping a few feet away. "Y/N," he said, his voice a mix of relief and uncertainty.

"Jeonghan," she replied, surprised at how steady her own voice sounded.

An awkward silence fell between them, years of unspoken words and suppressed emotions creating an almost tangible barrier.

"Should we..." Jeonghan gestured towards the café, and Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion.

Inside, they found a quiet corner booth. The warm, coffee-scented air was a stark contrast to the tension between them. They ordered—an Americano for him, a latte for her, just like old times—and then faced each other across the small table.

"You look well," Jeonghan said, his fingers fidgeting with a sugar packet.

Y/N managed a small smile. "So do you. I... I've seen your interviews. Congratulations on all your success."

Jeonghan's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "Thank you. I hear you're doing well too. Teaching, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, literature at NYU. It's... it's good."

Another silence fell, heavier this time. Y/N took a sip of her latte, using the moment to gather her thoughts.

"Why did you want to meet, Jeonghan?" she finally asked, setting her cup down perhaps a bit too forcefully.

Jeonghan looked up, meeting her gaze directly for the first time since they sat down. "I... I missed you, Y/N. Every day for five years, I've missed you."

The raw honesty in his voice caught Y/N off guard. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and blinked them back furiously.

"You missed me?" she repeated, a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "You're the one who left, Jeonghan. You chose your career over us."

Jeonghan flinched as if he'd been slapped. "I know," he said softly. "And I've regretted it every day since."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, familiar bottle. Y/N's breath hitched as she recognized it—"You, in New York."

"Every scent, every name," Jeonghan continued, his voice thick with emotion, "they were all for you. About you. My way of holding onto what we had, what I threw away."

Y/N stared at the bottle, memories flooding back. The laughter, the love, the pain—it all came rushing back in a dizzying whirl.

"I thought I was protecting you," Jeonghan said. "The pressure, the spotlight—it was destroying us. I thought... I thought if I let you go, you could have a normal life. Be happy."

"That wasn't your choice to make," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You should have talked to me. We could have figured it out together."

Jeonghan nodded, running a hand through his hair in a gesture so familiar it made Y/N's heart ache. "I know that now. God, Y/N, I know. I was young and stupid and scared. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just a coward."

Y/N felt the walls she'd built around her heart begin to crumble. She reached out, almost unconsciously, and took the perfume bottle from Jeonghan's hand. As she did, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"I tried to hate you," Y/N admitted, her thumb tracing the label of the bottle. "I tried so hard to forget, to move on. But then I'd catch a whiff of one of your perfumes, or see your face on a magazine cover, and it all came flooding back."

Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... is there any chance? For us? I'm not the same man I was five years ago. I've learned, I've grown. And I know now that nothing—no amount of success or fame—means anything without you."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling tears slip down her cheeks. When she opened them again, she saw that Jeonghan's eyes were also wet.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "You hurt me, Jeonghan. Deeply. That's not something that can be fixed with a conversation and some pretty words."

Jeonghan nodded, his face falling. But before he could speak, Y/N continued.

"But... I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you too. That I didn't still love you, despite everything."

Hope bloomed in Jeonghan's eyes. "So... what does that mean?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "It means... it means maybe we can try. Slowly. No grand gestures, no rushing back into things. We need to relearn each other, rebuild trust. Can you do that?"

Jeonghan reached across the table, gently taking Y/N's hand in his. The familiar warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Y/N, I would wait a lifetime if that's what it took. We'll go as slow as you need. I just... I just want a chance to make things right."

For the first time since they sat down, Y/N felt a genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's try."

The gentle spring breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms through Central Park, where Jeonghan and Y/N walked hand in hand, their steps slow and purposeful. Two years had passed since that fateful night when they both reached for their phones, finally bridging the gap that had separated them for so long.

"I still can't believe we're here," Y/N said, squeezing Jeonghan's hand. "Sometimes I think I'll wake up and find it was all a dream."

Jeonghan brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "If it's a dream, then I never want to wake up," he replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

They found a quiet bench overlooking the lake, the same spot where they had sat years ago, planning their future together. Now, older and wiser, they sat again, the weight of their shared history and renewed love settling comfortably between them.

"The launch is tomorrow," Jeonghan said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Are you ready?"

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be. It's still surreal, you know? Being back in this world, but on my own terms this time."

The past two years had been a whirlwind of rediscovery and healing. After their reconnection, Jeonghan and Y/N had taken things slowly, rebuilding trust and relearning each other. Y/N had been adamant about maintaining her independence, refusing to be swallowed up by Jeonghan's world as she had been before.

To everyone's surprise—including her own—Y/N had discovered a talent for perfumery. What had started as curious questions about Jeonghan's process had evolved into a genuine passion. Under his guidance, she had begun to create her own scents, her natural intuition complementing Jeonghan's technical expertise.

And now, tomorrow, they would launch their first collaborative perfume.

"I have something for you," Jeonghan said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, elegant bottle, its contents shimmering in the afternoon sun.

Y/N gasped, recognizing the prototype they had been working on. "Is this...?"

Jeonghan nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "The final version. I wanted you to be the first to see it—to smell it."

With trembling hands, Y/N took the bottle. The label read "Essence of Us" in Jeonghan's distinctive handwriting. Below it, in smaller letters: "By Jeonghan & Y/N."

She uncapped the bottle, bringing it to her nose. The scent enveloped her immediately—bright citrus notes of bergamot and lemon, giving way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by warm sandalwood and a hint of vanilla. But there was something more, something uniquely them—a note that spoke of long nights of conversation, of laughter shared over coffee, of gentle kisses and whispered promises.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "It's perfect," she whispered.

Jeonghan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "It's us," he said simply. "All of us. The good, the bad, the journey we've taken."

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Jeonghan and Y/N sat in comfortable silence, the scent of their creation lingering in the air around them.

The launch event for "Essence of Us" was the talk of the fashion world. Held in the same New York hotel where Jeonghan and Y/N had celebrated her last birthday before their separation, it was a poignant reminder of how far they had come.

Cameras flashed as Jeonghan and Y/N stepped onto the red carpet, a united front. Y/N, dressed in a flowing gown that shimmered like liquid silver, looked every inch the confident co-creator, a far cry from the woman who had once hidden in Jeonghan's shadow.

Inside, the room was transformed into a sensory wonderland. Different stations represented the various notes of the perfume, allowing guests to experience each element individually before sampling the final product.

As the crowd mingled and the excitement built, Jeonghan clinked a glass, calling for attention. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the stage where he and Y/N stood.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Jeonghan began, his voice carrying easily through the room. "This launch is special for many reasons, but none more so than the fact that it represents not just a new scent, but a new chapter."

He turned to Y/N, love evident in his gaze. "For years, my perfumes told the story of what I had lost. They were messages in bottles, cast out into the world in the hope that someday, they might find their way back to the one who inspired them."

Y/N stepped forward, taking Jeonghan's hand. "And I heard those messages," she continued, her voice strong and clear. "Even when I tried not to listen, even when I thought that chapter of my life was closed forever. They called to me, reminding me of a love that never truly faded."

Together, they unveiled the perfume—an elegant bottle that seemed to capture the light, refracting it into a thousand tiny rainbows.

"'Essence of Us' is more than just a perfume," Jeonghan said. "It's a testament to the power of love, of forgiveness, of second chances. It's the scent of two people who lost their way, only to find that all paths led back to each other."

Y/N nodded, adding, "It's also a new beginning. A declaration that our story isn't just about the past, but about the future we choose to create together."

As the crowd applauded and the first samples of "Essence of Us" were distributed, Jeonghan and Y/N shared a private smile. They had poured their hearts into this creation, distilling years of love, loss, and rediscovery into a single, perfect scent.

Months later, as "Essence of Us" continued to top bestseller lists and garner critical acclaim, Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves back in their favorite spot in Central Park. The trees were ablaze with autumn colors, a crisp breeze carrying the promise of winter.

"I've been thinking," Jeonghan said, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. "About the future. About us."

Y/N looked at him curiously. "Oh? And what have you been thinking?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket. "I've been thinking that maybe it's time for a new scent. Something... permanent."

He pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning ring. The design was unique—a delicate gold band that twisted into the shape of an infinity symbol, set with tiny diamonds that caught the light like drops of perfume.

"Y/N," Jeonghan said, his voice thick with emotion, "will you marry me? Again? For real this time, for always?"

Tears sprang to Y/N's eyes as she nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. As Jeonghan slipped the ring onto her finger, she finally found her voice. "Yes," she whispered. "Forever and always."

They sealed the promise with a kiss, the scent of "Essence of Us" mingling with the crisp autumn air. As they broke apart, both laughing and crying, Jeonghan's eyes lit up with that familiar spark of inspiration.

"I think I know what our next perfume will be called," he said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh? Do tell."

Jeonghan pulled her close, whispering in her ear: "You, Forever and Always."

And as they walked hand in hand through the park, already discussing notes and accords for their new creation, both Jeonghan and Y/N knew that this—their love, their passion, their shared creativity—was the most intoxicating scent of all.

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gothamite-rambler · 16 days ago

Text

"Tim, you slipped up eventually," Bernard said.

---Next morning---

Tim woke up the next morning. Last night felt like a dream, it had to be he reasoned. There was no way Bernard discovered he was Robin, sat on this information for a long time, or that Bernard kissed him once he started panicking. It was a dream... a really good dream.

Tim (reasoned): It was a ... dream. I was exhausted. Dog tired, took off my suit which... Is scattered on the floor, totally normal. Me being naked, trying something new. Did that myself.

Bernard (calling from the kitchen): Tim, you awake?

Tim smelled bacon and eggs from the kitchen. Bernard was making breakfast, he was in his place and Tim was naked in bed. Not connected.

Tim (trying to play it cool): I'm up... Wh- When did you get in?

Bernard (heard chuckling from the kitchen): I spent the night here, silly. You hit your head during your Robin job?

Tim (sighing at the inevitable truth): Oh crap baskets.

Tim got out of bed debating what to say, how to handle this, should he pay Bernard to keep the secret, move towns, get plastic surgery-

Bernard (unintentionally interrupting his boyfriends ruminating thoughts): Tim, I'm making your favorite! I also left an outfit on the bed, and I placed your mask on the table.

Tim groaned at his boyfriend's saccharine jovial tone. Bernard sounded so used to this, but Tim couldn't figure out when he actually figured out he was Red Robin. All he could do now was get dressed.

Tim: Th- Thanks.

Tim took a deep breath, changing into the blue shirt and blue jeans Bear left out for him. Leaving his bedroom, he went to the table and sat down. Bernard placed a plate of eggs, bacon and avocado toast in front of him. Bear kissed him on the head then sat down with a plate of his own food.

Bernard scooched his chair closer to Tim, laughing softly seeing his flushed face.

Bernard (eating a strip of bacon): Last night was fun, I'm glad I got to do that with you in your Robin suit. Kind of wanted to do after I connected the dots on my metaphorical evidence board.

Tim groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Bernard (a soft smile): If you're worried I'm going to tell anyone or leave you or want money to keep it secret let me make this clear, I won't. I wouldn't do that if we weren't dating. That type of betrayal isn't my thing.

Tim: Yeah, but... Why?

Bernard: (calm) Did you threaten to do that when you wanted to become Robin? Because I know how smart you are and that you figured out who Batman was.

Tim (shaking his head): It was a tough start, but I never wanted to tell the world the information once I learned it. I didn't think I'd have this happen to me though. I was so careful.

Bernard chuckled, patting Tim on the shoulder.

Bernard (placing a hand on Tim's arm): Timmy, my prince, you suck at hiding it at a certain point. You left your eye mask in random places, you left a batarang in my car once, I'm keeping that by the way, one of your Robin suits is in the closet-

Tim (lying badly): I told you that was a halloween costume.

Bernard: Tim you have it labeled 'Property of Red Robin'. I believed it was a cool halloween costume... that we used for roleplay, eventually I connected the dots and the tights.

Tim sighed, holding his head down and eating his breakfast.

Tim: Continue.

Bernard (beaming): Thank you, let's see... you left your laptop open one time and there were blueprints for the batmobile, the microwave incident and again your upper arm tattoo.

Tim checked the tattoo he got dedicated to his mom.

Tim: Yeah, I-

Bernard: I told you to get the tattoo on a different spot for that reason, yeah. To be honest, the mask and tattoo made me teeter on if I was right, but it was when I kissed you to wake you up from the chaos monster's control that made me realize... you're the same person.

Tim: That was a weird night, you never told me how you snapped out of it first.

Bernard kissed Tim on the cheek.

Bernard: I had a little help from Robin. The important thing is I don't care if you're Red Robin. I love you and will always love you. I was waiting for you to tell me, but... let's just say I got a little impatient.

Tim: That's what I love about you, you are my better half. I... love you too.

Bernard: Aww, you're making me blush. Your secret is safe with me though, okay?

Tim nodded, eating his toast.

Tim: Thanks, question though, did you figure out who Batman is?

Bernard (chuckling): Yeah that took me like five minutes. Having trouble with Nightwing and Red Hood though.

Tim: Seriously?

Bernard (honest): Yeah, can you tell me?

Tim: Oh, no, no, you gotta figure that out on your own.

Bernard: You'll keep that secret from me? The utter betrayal.

Bernard and Tim laughed and then shared a quick kiss then went to eating breakfast with a new bond between them.

Previous chapter ->Last night

First chapter -> He already knew

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zweiginator · 5 months ago

Note

having an argument w stepbro!patrick over smth stupid like who didn’t shut the fridge or who forgot to put the washing in the dryer and it ends with hate sex :) him groaning “i fucking hate you” as he bottoms out, and you moaning it straight back at him

you're a genius

your mom and patrick's dad are in the kitchen and they notice that one of you accidentally left the milk out. it's a stupid and trivial and innocuous mistake. could've been anyone.

"it was patrick." you grab a strawberry from the dining room table. "he was eating cereal yesterday.

"no it fucking wasn't. you're not just going to pin this on me." patrick shoves you aside and sits at the seat you usually sit at for breakfast. pours himself a glass of orange juice and glares at you. "you were putting milk in your coffee after i ate breakfast."

"guys--it doesn't matter." your mom says. and it truly doesn't. when you're sitting at a grand dinner table with fine china in a house that patrick's dad bought for four million dollars--spoiled milk doesn't matter.

but you fucking hate patrick and he fucking hates you. your eyes twitch when you see each other. he shoves into you in the hallway and gets your towels in the bathroom dirty even though he has his own bathroom in his own room. he makes fun of the boys you date and when you wear lipstick. he says you're annoying and too stuck up and too uptight.

and you get makeup stains on the t-shirts you steal from his closet. you borrow his tennis rackets whe you want to play with your friends. you giggle on the phone with your little boyfriends until three in the morning, until patrick bangs on your door and screams in your face. calls you a spoiled fucking brat. as if he isn't worse.

"i know how to put things back where they came from. i'm not an idiot." you spit back, yanking the butter knife away from him.

"could've fooled me. you're pretty fucking stupid actually. and last time i checked, you steal, like, all of my shit." patrick fakes a smile at you. yanks the knife back.

"i don't want your disgusting clothes that you never wash. you couldn't pay me to go into your closet to smell it in there."

patrick takes a bite of his toast, rolling his eyes. "now you're just fucking lying."

"stop talking with your mouth full it's gross. have some decorum."

"aww she learned a five dollar word!"

and patrick gets up, shoving his hip into your chair to spill your water on your shirt. puts his dishes in the sink. "i have practice, bye."

but this argument, it lingers for days. stays sour in your mouths and tickles the end of your tongues. you've never had a spat like this, one that spans for days and days.

patrick invites a girl over. you embarrass him in front of her.

"fourth one this week. that's a record."

she leaves fifteen minutes later.

patrick turns the hot water off when you go to take a shower.

you take his clothes out of the washer to wash your own, so he has to wear soaking wet shorts to a match.

whatever one of you does, the other retaliates. but the fight doesn't reach a head until you take his car without asking. you only went to get some ice cream, but when you pull into the driveway, patrick is already screaming at you. seething. his ears are red and his arms are crossed and spit flies at your face as he yells.

"are you fucking kidding me? this isn't a what's mine is yours situation. you don't steal my fucking car whenever you want." he grabs your wrist. throws your cup of strawberry ice cream on the concrete. "how does that feel? you're such a fucking brat."

you slap him. "what is up your ass? god, you're so fucking uptight. let loose for once, why are you so tense and annoying? chill the fuck out!"

patrick hates that. he hates that you're mocking what he's said to you before. hates that you're pressing your little fingers into the bruise of his ego until it really stings.

he yanks you inside, slamming the door. your mom and step dad left hours ago, something about a dinner party forty-five minutes away. you and patrick figure they'll drink too much wine and stay the night.

"you think that's fucking cute?" patrick pushes you against the door. turns you around so your stomach presses against the cold door knob. you feel your pulse in your belly button and his body looming behind you. and he spanks you. as hard as he can. it stings and the pain lingers. you yelp.

"patrick--" you look back at him.

the silence is all-encompassing. you hear the ticking of the clock in the foyer, the soft hum of the air conditioner. the trickling faucet in the kitchen that never turns off, and patrick's heavy breathing. and suspended between you is a choice. you can tell him off. apologize for this whole big drawn-out fight. you can walk away.

or, you can ease into the tension. let the rubber band snap and hit you both in the face. you can do something taboo and wrong. something that your respective parents would fucking disown you for.

patrick lowers you onto the rug in the foyer. fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. shoves his tongue in your mouth and feels yours in his. his hips rut into you and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

you hate to give him the satisfaction of moaning, of letting him know he's good at something. but you do.

"you think you're so cute when you piss me off." he whispers against the shell of your ear. he pulls his boxers down, revealing his cock and it's so big you don't know if you can take it.

patrick reads your mind. sees the look on your face.

"you started this so you're gonna fucking take it." pushes himself deep inside you until he bottoms out. he hisses and groans as you claw at his back. you say patrick, please, patrick i--

and he laughs at you. because you thought you won your little spat. but patrick can shut you up. he can make you forget all about your cockiness when he's slamming into you. and he does.

your legs bounce over his shoulders, his little gold chain necklace dangling over you, tickling your lips. patrick spits on you. you slap him across the face. he grabs your wrist and slams it on the ground, pinning it above your head.

but you moan nonetheless. and you know patrick feels good by how his mouth stays open. how his chest is flushed and his hips twitch as you squeeze him tighter and tighter.

"i fucking hate you. you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me." his hand is wrapped around your throat. it doesn't matter if he stops thrusting; you'll fuck yourself on him, use him for yourself. and he think's you're so greedy.

your moans and words are choppy from the force. the table in the foyer wobbles as patrick throws both of your legs over one shoulder and goes deeper.

"god--i--hate you too. hate you so much. i fucking--" you gasp, throwing your head back. patrick laughs at you. "fucking wish we never met."

patrick pulls out. uses your body as a cum rag. paints your stomach, your lips, your face with it. and then he gets up and goes to his room.

you don't speak to each other until your mom and his dad get back a couple days later. it's early in the morning and you sit in the kitchen in complete silence. nobody but you notices that when patrick is finished with breakfast, he leaves the milk out. he looks at you and winks.

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #stepbro!patrick

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marvelous-slut · 10 months ago

Text

Call Back Pt. 2 - Chibs Telford x Reader

It took me forever to write this shit cause my new job has me in a thousand different directions. But here she is. Part two!

“Hey baby.” Gemma says as you walk through the door. You smell the hints of bacon, French toast and of course cigarettes through out the house. “You hungry?” She asks, you kick off your shoes and plop down into the chair at the dining room table.

“I would offer help but looks like you’re done. Smells great.” You say, Gemma smiles and sits down the plate of eggs. You grab your cup, filling it with orange juice. Trying to make yourself comfortable in the chair, your legs still aching from last night.

“Don’t worry, you can help when I clean this shit up.” You both chuckle, before long Jax makes his way to the table. He sits down only for a moment to grab some French toast and devours it. He pours himself some milk and drinks it in one setting.

“Someone’s in a rush.” Gemma says, putting eggs onto her plate. Jax looks up, shaking his head. Something has happened with the club, you can tell. You can always tell.

“Fuckin’ short on guys again today. First it’s Bobby saying he’s got shit with the baby mom, then Chibs saying he can’t be there today for the gun meet. Something about he has to stay close incase the wife calls.” You drop your fork, picking it up quickly in an attempt to make the shock your feel less noticeable.

“Fiona?! What is that bitch coming back here for? Hasn’t she fucked his life up enough? Bitch should have decided on that when he was in the hospital.” Gemma asks. Hospital? How did you miss it? You question yourself. You visited him frequently after that bomb went off and you didn’t see his wife? You feel froze in place. How stupid? How stupid could you have been to believe anything that bastard said to you?

“Yep. Apparently it’s about their kid, or working out things. I don’t know I got mixed up on what he told me. I’m just pissed cause we’re two guys short now. Even Tig is more reliable right now and that’s saying a lot.” Jax gives Gemma a kiss on the head and gives you a hug before he heads to the door. Clay had already headed out early in the morning to finish up some things at the club house. You feel your hand around the knife that laid on the table, tapping it up and down. Gemma notices and decides it’s her business too of what’s going on.

“What’s with the knife?” She asks. You pause for a moment, thinking of how to get the frustration out without telling her too much.

“Well, just a hypothetical question, if you’d been seeing a man and found out he was playing you like a fucking fiddle the whole time you’d been fucking him, what would you do?” You ask, holding the knife in place now but not letting up on your grip. She lowers your hand down.

“Well baby, I’d be holding a knife just like that. What’s going on?” You sigh, tossing the knife down. Instantly you know, Gemma knows too.

“It’s nothing, just a th-“ Before you can finish your sentence she blurts out.

“Fuck me! This is about Chibs!” She blurts out. “What the hell, how long has it been going on?” You feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Look, that’s not important. I’m just pissed, he told me he was done with his wife and now this?” You put your hands into your head, forcing back tears. “How could I be so fucking dumb?” You mutter out, Gemma runs her hand up and down your back.

“Listen, look at me.” She says, you look up to make eye contact with her. “Fuck him. I love Chibs. I do, but that’s a sleaze move and he knows it. The best thing I can tell you, act like you’re unbothered. You go to the club house tonight when everyone’s there, you ignore him.” You sigh, throwing your head back.

“Gem. I don’t even wan-“ She cuts you off before you can finish.

“I don’t give a damn, you’re not gonna lay at your house and sulk over this. You’re gonna get your shit together, put on a good outfit and show his ass you’re not bothered.” You look at her and know she means business. “And I won’t tell Clay if you’re worried about it. I’d like to kick Chibs ass myself right now but I still don’t want the bastard to get killed.” You nod in agreement.

“Now, eat, get your ass home and get the crying out of your system and then get ready. Make sure you wear something that shows the girls too.”

________

As horrible as you felt, you managed to drag yourself to the mirror and look at yourself. Not bad for someone who’d been sobbing for a large part of the day. Once you got to the club house, you saw Jax. He looked much more relaxed than this morning. You turn your head and meet eyes with Chibs, he doesn’t even look upset. You feel the anger flowing through your body. Feeling your fist clinch. You remember what Gemma said - unbothered. You look away and keep heading to the bar. Chibs eyes still watching you as you go. A moment passes as you decide on what to drink. Water is probably the best choice, but the booze would surely help how you feel.

“You look sad.” The young familiar face says as he sits next to you. You turn to him, examining him closer up than you had before. Juice was his name.

“I won’t lie, I am.” He smiles softly, pushing a beer toward you. “But this alcohol is gonna help me not remember that. I hope.” You say, taking a drink of the beer.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, you smile at him shaking your head.

“It’s better I don’t. What’s up with you? Most of you stay 100 feet away from me at all times.” Juice smiles, looking over to see Clay with Gemma. Since Clay had made the comment a few weeks ago to Juice about how the two of you should ‘get to know each other better’ he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Clay admired Juice, he’d always wanted a son. Jax was close enough to it, but he also knew Jax would never feel that way about him.

“Look, I think you’re a pretty girl. I don’t like seeing pretty girls sad.” You hadn’t interacted with Juice much, most time when you were at the club house he wasn’t or he was passed out inside a crow eater.

“Thanks Juice. You’re sweet. I should have known, you’re the least scary looking one here.” He giggles and rolls his eyes.

“What? The tattoos on the side of my head & the mohawk doesn’t scare you?”

You let out a chuckle, it felt good to laugh and enjoy yourself. You run your hand over the side of his head where his tattoos lay.

“No way. They’re real? I always thought it had to be temporaries you kept putting on.” You joke, he laughs softly. Before you can say anything else, you see Chibs standing behind Juice.

“Juicy boy, can I have a minute?” He asks motioning to you. Juice nods his head, silently upset that Chibs interfered with the interaction.

“I’ll see you later?” He asks, you smile and nod your head. Even blowing him a kiss as he walks away. Chibs motions for you to follow him outside. Once the two of you are outside, he’s pacing back and forth.

“What? I don’t give you attention for five minutes and you’re out with the young Buck aye? Makes a lot of sense. You just want a man to keep you occupied.” You laugh, shaking your head. You should walk away, but you don’t.

“You know what? Fuck you! Fuck. You. You’re the one who lied about your wife, you lied about what you wanted with me and your wife. You don’t get the right to drag me out of a party and try to make me feel bad.” You blurt out, surprising yourself that there aren’t tears running down your face. “Maybe next time you’re trying to play both sides with women, you shouldn’t tell the fucking girls step brother about your issues.” Your back is against the wall as he stands over top of you. His hands against the concrete wall.

“It’s complicated-“ He begins to speak, at this point you didn’t need to hear it, you didn’t even want to hear it. He instantly regrets the comments he made, but it was too late to take it back.

“No. No, Chibs it isn’t. You lied. If you wanted your wife back, all you had to do was tell me that. I’m a big girl and can handle the hurt.” You gently shove him away as he tried to get closer to you. “I’ll make it less complicated for you. I’m done with you, I’m done with this. Enjoy getting your family back. You deserve it. I hope your sorry ass goes back to Ireland and you live happily ever after.” You brush past him and head to your car. Despite the pain that ached in your chest you were proud of yourself. Realizing it was time to stop beating a dead horse. Chibs sighs deeply, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Before he lights it, he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Something you need to tell me Chibby?” He feels his body go cold, turning around to meet the face of both Clay & Jax.

“Aye. Fuck me.” He says, throwing his hands up in the air.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs x you #chibs telford imagine #chibs x reader #chibs imagine #soa chibs #chibs

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achilles-rage · 2 months ago

Text

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 19

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: evan meets your parents.

word count: 4.1k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: kinda love the last part of this chapter. also me using 911 stories because I simply cannot think of any:😋 enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You stand in front of your childhood home, grinning ear to ear as you take in the holiday decorations and the dim street lights illuminating the now-dark street your parents live on. Evan is standing beside you, but his expression is not as happy as yours. While he’s happy to be here with you, and knows that once he’s met your parents, everything will be fine, as long as your parents like him, he’s still filled with nerves.

His hand is tightly gripping yours as you walk up to the front door while the other is clenched at his side. He’s never met a girl’s parents before; he’s not sure what he’s about to walk into. He goes over the list of things you told him in his head: talk about football with your mom, and ask her about her most recent hobby; this month it’s her beginners pottery class, and talk to your dad about his studies. Most importantly, if all else fails, ask your dad about his job.

He’s only pulled out of his mental checklist when he hears your voice from beside him, and your hand squeezing his in an attempt to lower him back to Earth. He looks over at you with a blank expression, and you laugh softly. He definitely didn’t hear you, you think, and he looks like he’s about to throw up.

“I said, it’s gonna be okay. Please don’t worry so much.” you tell him sincerely. While it’s true that you’re not sure how your parents will react to Evan, although you think your father may go with the protective dad approach, you know him being nervous will only make it worse.

“Easy for you to say, they’re your parents.” he says in a slightly joking tone, but he doesn’t smile. You sigh, turning him to face you and grabbing his collar to pull him down into a chaste kiss. Once you pull back you look up at him as you tilt your head to the side, trying to catch his gaze.

“Ev, I promise, it’s gonna be fine. Okay?” you say sternly, and although he nods, he can’t help but speak again.

“What if they don’t like me?” Your eyes soften at his words, and you can see the insecurity in his face. You’re so used to seeing him as the confident football player he is around everyone else that you almost miss it, but it’s very much written across his face.

“What’s not to love? And either way, I like you, and they’ll see that.” you say in a soft voice, pulling him down once more to peck his lips. Once you pull away he lets out a loud breath, then nods, mumbling a soft “okay.” You nod back, then turn and open the front door, smiling immediately as the smell of your mom’s favourite candle fills your nostrils. There’s two things you can count on when you come home, your mom’s Champagne Toast candles, and your dad’s work stories.

Your parents come to the front hallway as soon as they hear you call out for them, your mom from the kitchen and your dad from the living room. You grin as you let go of Evan’s hand, giving them each a hug. You might not be as close to your parents as you once were, but the distance while you’re away at USC definitely helps, and every time you come to visit, you’re more excited to spend some time with them. Evan watches with a small smile; he loves seeing you so happy, but he can also feel his heart clench. He’s always wanted this type of relationship with his parents, and he wonders what being this close to your parents would be like.

“You must be Evan.” your father says, and Evan freezes as everyone’s eyes move to him. He slaps a smile onto his face, taking a step forward to your father as he reaches out to shake his hand. Your father gives him a small smile as he shakes Evan’s hand, a small hint of surprise on his face at his actions. You and your mom look at each other as you watch the interaction, giving each other a knowing look. Both of you are very curious to see how this will go, but you both know that this is a good first step.

“Nice to meet you, sir. And you too, ma’am. Your house is beautiful.” he says in a serious tone. He turns to shake your mother’s hand, but she waves him off and pulls him in for a quick hug. You watch with a wide smile, and the nerves you had settle tremendously. If this is in any way telling of how the next two weeks will go, you think you’ll be just fine.

“Well, dinner’s almost ready. Just need to pull it out of the oven, if we want to sit down.” your mother says, before turning to go back into the kitchen. With your mom gone, all three of you stare at each other, no one knowing what to say. After a moment, Evan clears his throat.

“Well, I’m gonna go get the bags from the car. Just so we don’t have to do it later.” he says, and while he’s speaking mostly to you, he keeps his eyes on your father.

“I’ll go with you.” you tell him, grabbing his hand, ready to pull him outside. You hope he’s still not freaking out too much. You hope you can take this time to reassure him that what’s happened so far is a good sign.

“No, no. You stay here, princess. It’s freezing out there.” he says, finally turning to you. He raises your hand to his lips and kisses it softly before he drops it again, giving you a comforting smile. You feel your cheeks heating up at this. You’re not sure if he’s playing things up because you have a spectator; this is something he’d do regardless, but it warms your heart nonetheless.

Once Evan is out the door, your dad turns to you with a raised brow, crossing his arms. You raise your brow in response, waiting for the inevitable words he’s about to say.

“He treat you well?” You sigh, rolling your eyes. You know he means well, but you’re confused why he’s even asking. Why would you be with him if he didn’t? And why would you tell your father if he wasn’t?

“Yes, dad. Always.” you tell him seriously, your eyes looking into his, almost begging him to believe you.

“Just gotta make sure. I know how college boys are.” he responds equally as seriously, almost sternly. You roll your eyes again, shaking your head. You know what he means, and you also know a little bit about how Evan used to be, but he hasn’t been like that since you’ve known him.

“He isn’t like that, promise.” is all you manage to say before Evan comes back in through the door, trying to balance all your bags in his arms. His eyes widen as he sees the both of you, both looking at him with expressions that make it obvious you two were just talking about him. He smiles sheepishly, looking between the both of you as he stands in front of the door.

“I’ll show you where to put the bags. Honey, why don’t you go help your mom with dinner.” your dad says, nodding his head towards the kitchen as he turns to speak to you. You’re about to argue back, not wanting to leave him alone with Evan to ask God knows what, but you close your mouth again just as quickly. You know your dad won’t take no for an answer, so there’s no use in arguing with him. You give Evan an apologetic smile before you mumble an “okay,” turning to walk into the kitchen.

“He seems nice. Handsome too.” you hear your mom say when you enter the kitchen, and you give her a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, he is.” you reply, your voice almost a whisper. You start taking out the plates and cutlery as your mom finishes with dinner, then you speak in a quiet tone, as if they’ll hear you from upstairs.

“Dad’s upstairs with him right now. I don’t even want to know what he’s asking.” Your mom laughs, rolling her eyes.

“You know it’ll happen eventually. You might as well get it over with now.” she tells you with a shrug, and you nod at her words. You know she’s right, but you’re secretly hoping that this conversation doesn’t make Evan want to sneak out in the middle of the night and never come back.

“He’s a good guy. He’s smart. He’s never done anything to make me question that.” you say, more to yourself as your back is turned from your mother. She hums softly at your response, then grabs the plates from you when you turn to hand them to her.

Your dad leads Evan upstairs and to the guest room, gesturing for him to drop his bags on the bed. Once his hands are empty and everything is on the bed, your dad grabs your bags off the bed, then gives Evan a stern look.

“You’ll be staying here, and she’ll be staying in her room. Under no circumstances do I expect to see you in her room.” he says, narrowing his eyes. Evan nods, his face void of any expression as he swallows.

“Of course, sir.” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. He’s rarely ever felt this intimidated, but under your dad’s harsh gaze, he struggles to keep his hands from shaking.

“I know I can’t stop you from being with my daughter like that, but I’ll be damned if you try anything under my roof.” your father cuts him off before he can give him any more reassurances. Evan nods again, trying to give him a small smile.

“Of course. I would never disrespect you, or your daughter like that, sir. You have my word.” Your father seems satisfied by his response. He also catches the nervousness creeping into Evan’s face, and he smirks. He hopes that his warning has scared him enough into actually meaning that, and without another word, he turns and carries your bags to your room.

By the time you’re all sitting down for dinner, there’s an awkward feeling in the room, thick and hot around you. You all begin to eat silently, the only sound coming from the radio your mom has in the kitchen, softly wafting through the doorway and into the room.

After a few minutes, your mother speaks up, looking between you and Evan.

“So, how did you two meet?” You laugh softly, seeing Evan smile out of the corner of your eyes before he replies.

“We, uh, we were paired together for an assignment.” he says, looking over at you with a happy gleam in his eye. He knows that’s not exactly how you two met, but he knows that you’re still a little embarrassed about how you snapped at him the first time you met, so he doesn’t bring it up.

“Well, yeah. But, I bumped into him in the hall before that, and I sort of yelled at him.” you say sheepishly, laughing along as your mom giggles and your dad lets out a quiet, surprised laugh.

“You yelled at him?” your dad asks you in slight disbelief. He’s been on the receiving end of your bad days, of course, but he’s never seen you like that with anyone. “And you still wanted her after that?” he asks Evan with a raised brow, a small smile on his face as he stops eating.

“I was hooked. She’s too pretty for her own good.” Evan tells your father. Then, his eyes dart over to yours, and he gives you a quick wink, smirking. You both notice how your mother is looking at the both of you across the table, and your cheeks heat up. You know your mom would like Evan immediately, but she’s looking at you with stars in her eyes, and you know that he’s definitely on her good side already.

You look over at your dad next, and your smile widens when you see him nod once before continuing to eat. If you aren’t mistaken, you think you see a hint of approval in his eyes, although you know it can’t be this easy.

You continue to eat quietly, and while the awkwardness has substantially lessened, there’s still an odd tension in the air. You feel your mind go blank as you keep eating, and although you know you should be the one to break the silence, you can’t think of a single thing to say. You feel Evan’s hand move to your soft thigh, squeezing it softly. You put your hand on top of his, letting out a soft exhale. You know you should be the one calming him right now, but you’re grateful that he’s picked up on your slight daze.

“So, I hear you’re a firefighter?” Evan says, and you smile as you see your father’s face light up. Bless your perfect boyfriend, you think. He remembered your list.

“Yeah. Dad tell him about the call with the shark on the freeway.” you say before your father can speak. You know this will take out all the awkwardness. It’s his favourite story to tell, and you know he’ll somehow turn a 30 second story into one that lasts the rest of dinner.

It’s over an hour later when you look over at the clock on the wall. Your plates have long since been cleared, and conversation has been flowing nicely since your father began his story. The stories were a great way to open everyone up, and Evan seems to know every question to ask to get your father to speak, but he also looks extremely interested in his stories. You see a sparkle in his eyes that you only really see when he’s playing football, and your nerves are gone as you listen to everyone talking to each other.

It’s also helped that your father has since learned that Evan is at school on a football scholarship. Not only does that mean he’s “strong enough to protect you,” as your father had worded it, but it also means he’s smart, which is important to your father. To him, this means he can care for you, in every sense of the matter.

You arrived at your parents’ house late, as they live pretty far away from campus, so by the time dinner is finished and everyone’s guards are down, it’s getting late. Your hand has been firmly placed in Evan’s on his lap since you finished dinner, and you squeeze it before you begin to speak. You’re sure he’s desperate for a break from being examined, and you’re getting tired, so since you had an hour long nap on the car ride here, you know that Evan’s probably tired too.

“Well, it’s getting pretty late. We should head to bed. I wanna give Evan a tour of town tomorrow, maybe go to the winter market.” you tell your parents with a smile.

Your parents nod, and everyone begins to stand up from the table, each person grabbing their plates to bring to the kitchen.

“Thank you so much for dinner, too. It was great.” Evan tells your mom, and she beams, grabbing his plate from him.

Once the table is cleared, you grab Evan’s hand again, ready to lead him upstairs when your father speaks up again.

“And, Evan? Remember what we talked about upstairs.” Evan nods, his nervous smile coming back onto his face. He had let his guard down completely earlier, and that almost makes this worse. He murmurs a quick “yes, sir” before you drag him upstairs, calling out a good night to your parents.

Once you’re up the stairs and in the hallway, you stop and turn to look at Evan with a raised brow.

“What is he talking about?” you ask curiously. You almost forgot about their conversation earlier, as you felt so relaxed at dinner.

“Oh, nothing. Just about keeping my disgusting hands off his daughter.” he says jokingly, taking a quick look over his shoulder towards the top of the stairs before he grabs your wide hips and pulls you into him. He kisses you deeply, and you can feel his smile in the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. You hum softly as you kiss him with equal fervor, then pull back after a moment, keeping your forehead pressed against his.

“You’re not doing a very good job.” you tease, then give him another quick peck. He rolls his eyes with a scoff, then chuckles quietly. While most of his attention is on you, your father’s words echo in the back of his head, and he tries to keep some of his attention on anyone that could be coming up the stairs.

“I can’t help it, princess. How do you expect me to keep my hands off of you for two whole weeks?” he asks in a slightly teasing tone, although you can tell that he actually means it. You giggle softly, shrugging as you sway side to side, feeling his warm hands through the fabric of your pants.

“You have a car, don’t you?” you ask with a raised brow. Your smile widens when he lets out a low groan, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” he whispers, then gives your neck a feather light kiss before looking back up at you.

“Go to bed, Buckley.” you whisper back, trailing your hands down his chest before pushing him back lightly. He lets go of your hips begrudgingly, rolling his eyes.

“I love you.” he tells you as he backs up towards his room. You smile, biting your lip as you also back up towards your door.

“I love you. And don’t even think about coming into my room tonight.” you tease. He licks his lips, eyes trailing down your plush figure as he opens the door to his room.

“You’re gonna get me into trouble, you know that?” he tells you, and you shrug, laughing softly.

“That’s the fun part.” is all you say before you turn and walk into your room. His eyes stay on your door for a moment after you close it, then he finally closes his own door, letting out a soft exhale once he’s inside. This is going to be a long two weeks.

He doesn’t even hear his door opening about an hour later. Your parents have finally gone to bed, and once you were sure they were asleep, you’re padding across the hallway in nothing but an oversized shirt and panties. You’re so used to falling asleep beside Evan that you barely even think about the consequences of your actions.

“Evan? You awake?” you speak into the darkness once you close the door. It’s pitch black in the room; a harsh contrast from your room and the hallway, which are both illuminated by dim night lights. His ears perk up at your seraphic voice cutting through the silence and he sits up on the bed, his eyes, having been adjusted to the dark already, only just able to see the outline of your body in the darkness.

“Yeah. Come here.” he whispers into the darkness, holding his hand out for you to take when he sees you stretch out your arms.

“Where are you?” you whisper with a small laugh, hands reaching blindly in the dark. He chuckles, leaning forward and grabbing your hand, then pulls you towards him. You stumble as your legs make contact with the bed, almost falling onto him as you kneel on the bed. The only thing to stop you is Evan’s quick reflexes, as he holds you straight as you move up towards him. You remove your hand from his and use both hands to feel around again, and once they make contact with his bare chest, you push him to lay on his back. Once he’s down, you lay beside him, resting your head on his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder.

“You still can’t see in here?” he asks with a quiet laugh, keeping his voice as low as possible.

“It’s pitch black in here. How can you see?” He rolls his eyes, leaning down and kissing the top of your head gently.

“Sorry I don’t need a night light to sleep, princess.” he teases, although he finds it adorable. He remembers the first time he slept over at your apartment; trying to sleep with the dim light illuminating your room. He tried to unplug it, but you gave him a stern look, and he quickly backed off.

“The dark is scary. You never know what’s out there.” you say with a small shrug, your fingers tracing patterns across his broad chest.

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’ve got me here to protect you, isn’t it?” he tells you in a teasing tone. You smile, nuzzling into his chest as his grip tightens on your shoulders instinctively, almost as if he’s now thinking about protecting you from whatever may threaten you.

“Only if my dad doesn’t catch me in here and kill you.” you tease, and he groans as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t be in bed with you right now, but it’s not like he’s in your room, right?

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” he tells you, his voice growing a little more serious. You smile, then lift your head up to face him, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness enveloping the room. You lean up and kiss him softly, then rest your cheek on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat as the quiet surrounds you again.

“Your dad seems to really love his job.” Evan speaks after a few minutes of silence, laughing softly as he thinks about all the stories he heard. You laugh along with him, nodding.

“Yeah, he does. He can talk about it for hours. And I mean hours. You seemed to really like the stories.” The last sentence comes out quieter, and your fingers still ghost along his bare skin as you speak.

“Yeah, they were really cool. Sounds like an awesome job.” he says, and it’s silent for a moment before he speaks up again. He feels like everything just fell into place, that he finally knows what to do. “Maybe after college I’ll apply for the LAFD.”

Your eyes widen, and you lift your cheek off his chest again to look at him. You remember how he looked hearing the stories, and you know it makes sense, and you’re just a little surprised you didn’t see this coming.

“You’re trying really hard to get my dad to like you, huh?” you ask jokingly. He smiles and rolls his eyes, which makes you smile.

“He has to like me. I’m gonna be here for a long time.” he begins seriously, then his eyes seem to unfocus as he thinks about the job again. Helping people? Doing the kinds of things your father talked about? It sounds perfect to him. “But, seriously. I really think I should look into it.”

You nod, your eyes softening as you take in his dazed expression in the darkness. He really does look excited, and you’d be lying if you said the idea of him becoming a firefighter and staying in LA wasn’t one you welcomed.

“You should. You’d be good at it. And my dad would love you.” you reassure him. You lean down and kiss his chest softly, then lay your head back down on his chest, feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

“And I can find a job in LA.” you say softly, trying but failing to keep your eyes open as his heartbeat acts as a lullaby. He smiles at your words, humming softly as he nods.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be able to keep you.” he says, his own eyelids beginning to get heavy. He feels an overwhelming sense of calm as he lays with you in his arms; like everything finally makes sense. He assumed you’d be able to make your relationship work, prayed you’d be able to, but now that you both have said you’re going to stay in LA, he falls asleep very easily.

next chapter

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daddysfangirls-marvel · 19 days ago

Text

Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.1

*Bonus*

Stucky x fem!reader \ Steve Roger x fem!reader x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Smut, fluff

Polyamorous Material List

(Y/n) didn't bother knocking on the door, going straight for the hidden key and unlocking it. Already familiar with the apartment, she tosses her jacket on the back of the armchair and going into the kitchen. " I'm so sorry I'm-oh" (Y/n) quickly turned around and covered her eyes. " I'm sorry, so sorry".

"Okay," Bucky said as he helped Steve off the kitchen counter and they adjusted themselves, fix themselves. But still with flush faces, swollen lips, and ruffled clothes it was very clear what was happening. That and Steve didn't adjust himself as well as Bucky.

"I'm sorry I'm late my father kept me at the store."

" It's alright, dinner is still warm." Bucky said as he pulled out a chair for her. Steve took his seat quickly trying his best to hide his 'situation'. " Beef Stew and biscuits."

"Bread is fresh I got it from the bakery this morning." Steve said doing his best not to make eye contact. Bucky went to dish out the bowls.

(Y/n) reached across the small table taking his hand in hers. He looked up at her. "Thank you, it smells wonderful. Thank you for all of this." Steve flushed not knowing how to take the praise.

"How you're mom doing?"

"She's well, doing much better . They've recently assigned her to the tuberculosis ward. The pay is higher but the hours are longer too." The new risk was unsaid.

Steve's mother, Ms. Sarah, was a nurse and had been jumping between wards for as long as one could remember. She always went where help was most needed. While everyone thought her very admirable it was also very scary. They feard that one day she'd pick something up from one of her patients and not be able to shake it or worse give it to Steve who had a very weak health.

"She'll be working late tonight. I've already set aside some dinner for her," Bucky said as he placed the bowls on the table and returned to the kitchen.

" My father thinks I'm having a sleep over with Rebecca. Hope your sister doesn't mind being my excuse, Bucky."

"She loves you and will tell any lie you need." he said as he placed three wine glasses on the table. The two looked at him confused as he produced a bottle of wine "Pinot Noir, franch "

"where did you get that? you can't afford that."

"Well forunately for us darling this fell off the back of a truck"

"You stole" Steve moved to scold him.

"No, it literally fell off the back of a truck. I wasn't going to waste it." Bucky defened himself as he popped the cork" Don't we deserve some luxury. Something fancy for once." he pours a glass " Plus, when will any of us ever be able to afford a bottle of wine like this. We can barely afford the cheap stuff. Please, enjoy it now."

He passed the glass to Steve. He sighed and took it while glaring he brings the glass to his lips and has a sip. " Taste expensive."

(Y/n) giggled, Bucky fills her glass. He finally sits and all three of them raise their glasses. " A toast?"

"yes, A toast to us and to now. To always being together." Steve said

"We three may never part" (Y/n) said

" Damn right" Bucky cheered.

After dinner, the three moved themselves to the front room. Bucky and (Y/n) found themselves lost in their book, him on the floor and she on the couch, with Steve sketching them while a radio played softly in the background. He is on the couch with (Y/n).

(Y/n) was so engrossed in her book that she fell to notice when Steve abandoned his sketch and moved to read over her shoulder. Bucky watched in amusement for a few minutes as the two cuddled up to each other without even realizing it.

They curled up to each other, becoming closer and closer with each turn of a page. He also noticed how flushed each of them were becoming. Interesting.

"Whatcha reading?" She snapped the book shut, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh at how stunned they both looked. They looked like a pair of kids who got caught doing something they definitely shouldn't have been doing. "Okay, now you have to show me." He stood up and approached them, holding his hand out for the book. (Y/n) held the book close to her chest.

"It's just a book."

"An interesting book."

"What makes you think that?"

"How you cling to the cover, your flushed face, Steve's bulge." Steve quickly moves to cover his 'situation.'Bucky grinned as (Y/n) sighed and passed him the book. She moved to hide her face in a pillow as Bucky flipped through the book. " Let's see what's got you two so red."

"Bucky," Steve pleaded

" 'I should …really...get back to work.' Levi said in between her kisses but made no attempt to stop her or move her off of his lap. OH . Untying his tie she tosses it on the other end of the couch and began to unbutton his shirt as her lips moved to his neck hoping to mark her territory."

"Okay, that's enough." (Y/n) stood up and tried to take the book from him, but he held it above her head.

" he groaned as she choked on his - " the book was ripped from his hand and tossed across the room before he could even read ahead. He was shocked as he looked at her "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, I just -sorry."

"It's okay, I was just teasing. I'm sorry."

"I overreacted."

"You think." That earned Steve a pillow to the face. Bucky sat on the couch beside her. "where did you get that book anyway?" He asked

"Discount basket."

It took a moment, but the three of them began to laugh. They laugh hysterically for several minutes. Only stopping when they were finally out of breath.

"Getting dirty at a discount"

"Shush, Buck"

"Why'd you throw it?" he asked

"Wasn't a good read," she said, shrugging.

"Really, you seemed quite interested in it. Both of you."

" Mom won't be back until tomorrow morning," Steve suddenly said, gaining the attention of the two—one in confusion, the other in shock and joy. " we have the place to ourselves."

He took note of her confusion, and he began to stutter, " We-we could do it. Since we're al-lone."

Still confused.

"Sex. Steve is saying he's ready for sex."

"Oh," her voice reached a new pitch.

"We don't have to. Not really we-"

"Okay, I think I'm ready too."

They both turned to Bucky.

After talking some more in the front room, the three moved into the bedroom. Bucky took Steve into the bathroom to help him get ready, leaving (y/n) alone. (Y/n) had removed her dress and stockings and was now having an internal debate about whether she should take off her slip as well leaving her in her underwear.

She quickly lost her decision as the door opened, and the two stepped in, Bucky in his pants and tank top and Steve with a towel around his waist.

"Hi," she said

"hi," Steve returned.

Bucky sat at the desk, and Steve and (y/n) stood in front of him, waiting for instructions. Inexperienced students waiting for their experienced teacher.

" I want you two to be comfortable and enjoy this. You should experience each other first."

"You just want to watch us," Steve scoffed, crossing his arms

"Yeah, you're a perv." (Y/n) agreed.

"Sure am. Now put on a show for this perv."

And confidence is gone. The two just stood there for a moment, fidgeting. It was Steve who got the courage to make the first move, asking to kiss. Bucky watched as the two kissed, starting off as gentle and sweet before progressing into a more heated kiss. He took note of their hands (Y/n)'s hands, pulled at her slip, and hovered over Steve's chest. His hand gripped his towel. Both seemed eager yet afraid to touch.

"You can use your hands." He encouraged. (Y/n) was the first one to move, putting her hands on his shoulders. She pulled him closer before suddenly pushing him away. Steve had quickly thought he had did something wrong and stepped back further ready to apologize before he realized she was just removing her slip.

Quickly stepping out of it, she reaches Steve again and-

"What is that?" Bucky asked, interrupting and reminding them they weren't alone. They stepped back from each other. " What are you wearing? What is that?"

"My girdle?"

"When did you start wearing a girdle? I've never noticed."

" I've... I gained some weight in the back, and I've been having trouble...This slims me out." she kind of wished she kept her slip on now not liking where the attention was going.

"You don't need to slim out," Steve said. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She decided to keep the comments about how this beauty fit her clothes a bit too tight to herself. Now was not the time for that. Plus they couldn't help anyways.

" How about we take it off," Bucky said, motioning her over. As she stepped forward, he tugged on her girdle and was surprised to find how tight it was. Giving it a few more big tugs it finally came off. " Much better".

She gasped as he kissed her stomach, fueling the heat that was growing in her stomach.

"you should move to the bed."

"Okay." She moved to the bed, pulling Steve with her. She connected their lips again with far more eagerness than before, her hands feeling aimlessly against his flushed skin, gripping and pulling at anything she could get her hands on. Steve left himself to her mercy, letting her take whatever she wanted, simply breathing her in, accepting everything she gave, feeling the heat between their bodies.

"Take off the rest," Bucky called attention to himself. " If you want to actually do it, you need to take off the rest."

No longer shy, the two eagerly shed the last of their clothes.

In the year since their physical relationship began, the throuple had had several intimate moments that involved heavy petting, hands, and fingers and clothes. They had never removed each other's clothes. Some form of fabric was always between them.

Until now.

(y/n) stood shyly, chest red, nipples hard, and a wetness between her thighs that would have had her embarrassed in any other situation. But right now, she was busy eyeing Steve.

Steve stood more like a soldier, chin up, chest out, and head forward. Standing at attention, much like his cock. Which stood tall and wrapped. His stance was more so helpful with his heart rate and breathing. The moment (Y/n) removed her clothes, he lost his breath and feared he'd have an asthma attack before they could even start and ruin everything.

Bucky saw this, the way Steve was breathing through his nose and clenching his hands at his side, clear signs of fighting an oncome asthma attack. He decided to step in a bit more.

"Alright, Stevie, lay down." He was quick to follow instructions. Laying across the bed. Bucky took (Y/n)'s hand and led her to the bed. Helping her up and to straddle Steve sitting on his thighs. He sits next to them.

"Now listen, doll, I'm about to teach you something very important," he said to (y/n) as he kissed her nose. He then pulls a square package out of his pocket. She reaches for it, but he pulls it away. " What is is?"

"A condom?"

"Yes, and I'm going to teach you how to put it on Stevie here, okay?" she nods. " Mind being our test dummy punk." He leaned down to kiss him.

Opening the package, he hands it to (Y/N), and they handle it together. Him placing his hands over hers.

Steve gasped as they touched him, slowly stroking him. " Make sure he's tall and stiff for us." He moaned as they swiped his tip, which was leaking pre-cum. Bucky watched as (Y/n) sighed slightly, licking her lips. Something to explore at another time.

"And now, we're going to pinch the tip and roll it down." Steve closed his eyes tossed his head back and held his breath. They rolled it down all the way to the base and gave it a squeeze.

"Ta-da, you do so well," Bucky said as he leaned down, kissing Steve's neck. "Almost there."

He kisses (Y/n) neck. His fingers went down, and she gasped as she felt him touching her lips. She was more than wet enough.

"Are we ready?"

(Y/n) and Steve nodded nervously. He let go and stepped back, sitting at the desk again. They looked at him, confused.

"This is for the two of you. I'm just watching." Bucky said," Or I could leave and give you some privacy if you'd like?"

"NO" they both screamed.

"Please, no," Steve said, his breath starting to pick up as he sat up

"Please don't go. What if we do something wrong?" Syn said

" I won't go," Bucky said. " And do what feels natural. Follow your instincts and ask if need be. You'll be alright."

They two looked at him nervously, and he just nodded. They both turned back toward each other.

"Hi," they whispered to each other.

(Y/n) took a deep breath before lifting her hips. Steve gasped as she took him in her hands. She held her breath as she started to slowly sink onto him. Steve gasped as the tip slipped in the warmth, wetness, and tightness. (Y/n) whimpered as he slipped further in.

"STOP" Steve shouted breathlessly as he reached up, gripping her hips. " Fuck, please stop. I need to breathe."

"oh, oh no. Are you having an asthma attack? I can get off."

"No." Steve stopped her from getting up, gripping her hips tighter." I just need a moment to breathe. To catch my breath."

"Steve," Bucky spoke up. " You can stop here."

"No, I don't want to. I just need a moment, please."

"Okay, okay," (Y/n) leaned down, kissing his cheek. "Take your time."

Fortunately, he only needed a few minutes before he thought himself read (her thighs were starting to burn). She sunk the rest of the way down, taking all of him. Steve whimpered and dug his nails into her hip.

"Can I move?" (y/n) asked

"God, yes, please, yes." closing his eyes and tossing his head back.

She did as told. Slowly, she started going up and down, bouncing on him and moaning softly. She leaned forward, placing her hands on either side of his head. She continued to bounce. The sound of moans and skin slapping filled the room.

The site, the sound, Bucky couldn't help himself as he slipped his hand into his pants, finding his already leaking cock. He bit back a moan as he began to stroke himself as he watched (Y/n) start to bounce faster.

" I -I want a kiss," (Y/n) asked, still bouncing on Steve." Please, can I have a kiss, Stevie?"

He opened his eyes and-

"NGH ahhh"

He came.

The site of her leaning over, face and chest flushed, breast so close, and then further now where they were still connected. Yeah, he came in an instant. (Y/n) stopped.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm so sorry. I don't- I didn't-"

"That was a pretty face," she suddenly said, and it was. It made that feeling in her stomach tighter and warmer. She wished it lasted longer, that she had taken a picture of it, and that he'd done it again.

"Shit" They both looked up to see Bucky slumped down in his seat with a hand down his pants and a large wet spot formed on his pants.

(Y/n) started to sit up and remove Steve.

"Doll, did you finish?" Bucky asked.

"Um, no. But that's okay. A friend told me girls can't always finish like boys." (Y/n) just shrugged it off.

"No." Bucky removed his hand from his pants and approached the bed. He pushed her back down on Steve's cock, making his whimper" Stevie, this right here" He took his hand and put it right on her clit. "Rub it in circles."

(Y/n) yelp as he touched it and moaned as he began to rub it in circles. That warm and tight feeling in her stomach started to return. Steve whimpered as he felt her tightness around his already sensitive cock. He began to rub faster as he felt the need to come again. With the tightness surrounding his cock and Bucky whispering in her ear to make her come, make her come on his cock, treat her good. Be Good.

He was coming again, and she was coming this time as well. She moaned as she collapsed on his chest, arching her back nails digging into his chest.

"How was it?" Bucky asked as he watched (Y/n) dap the small cuts on Steve's chest. After being spent, Steve quickly gave in to exhaustion, leaving Bucky and (Y/n) to clean him up.

"It wasn't what I expected," (Y/n) said as she helped Bucky lift Steve's hips, putting some boxers on.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. It was really good."

#avengers #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel #stucky fanfiction #stucky x reader smut #stucky x reader #stucky smut #stucky #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #smut

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lareynaderucorazon · 7 months ago

Text

Sol x Reader, long post, Minors DNI

"I'm home"

You call out as you take off your shoes. Not even a moment later Sol greets you with a kiss.

"Hi babe, how was your day?"

"Mm nothing special. How was work?"

"Ugh don't even get me started. This new hire, Kevin." You rolled your eyes at the thought of that man.

"But I'm home here with you now so all of that doesn't matter." You put your shoes up and follow your wife into the kitchen.

"Endonde esta Sebastian?"

"He's upstairs finishing his homework."

"Hmm my baby's so studious."

Sol stands over the stove in his frilly green apron. You hug him from behind and peek over his shoulder.

"What gourmet dish did you cook up for us today?"

"Well you've been craving shrimp pasta so I made shrimp fettuccini and some garlic toast."

"So that was the heavenly smell I smelled as soon ans I walked through the door."

Sol slightly blushed. He knew he was married to the love of his life for seven years now but he still couldn't get over how she complemented his cooking. He felt a little embarrassed being put on the spot but, nonetheless, pride swelled in his heart at how he's able to take care of his wife.

"Dinner's ready."

"I'll go get Sebastian."

You walked away but not before you slyly groped his ass cheek. Sol's face turned red and he covered his ass with his hands before turning to softly glare at you. You only sent him a kiss before laughing and walking away.

As you walked up the stairs you could hear faint piano music coming from your son's room. You knocked and waited for him to say come in before you opened the door.

Your son looked up at you, tearing his attention away from his homework.

"Oh hey mom, when did you get back from work?"

"Just right now. I came to get you for dinner, dad made pasta."

"I'll be right there, I'm just trying to finish this last question but I can't get past it."

"Oh what class is it for?"

"Spanish."

"Hm let me see it."

Question: Maria compro ocho frutas. Tres naranjas, dos pinas, una sandia, y dos manzanas. Cada naranja cuesta veinte y ocho pesos y cuarenta y uno centavos. Cada pina cuesta cincuenta pesos y setenta y tres centavos. Una sandia cuesta sesenta y nueve pesos y ochenta y cinco centavos. Cada manzana cuesta veinte y tres pesos y sesenta y ocho centavos. Cuanto pago Maria en dollares?

"Ok wow, that's a lot of information."

"I know right."

"Ok so lets break it down in English first. The problem say, follow along with me, Maria bought 8 fruits. Write down the numbers on top of the words so you can visualize it better. Ok, she bought 3 oranges, 2 pineapples, one watermelon, and 2 apples. Each orange costs 28 pesos and 41 cents, Each pineapple costs 50 pesos and 73 cents. One watermelon costs 79 pesos and 85 cents. Each apple costs 23 pesos and 78 cents. Did you get all that?"

"Yeah."

"Is it easier to see all the numbers written down?"

"A lot easier."

"Now remember its asking for the total in dollars and they gave us the amounts is pesos. So add all of the numbers up and then we are gonna convert the total amount into dollars."

"But how are we going to do that if the teacher didn't give us the conversion rate?"

"The internet my son. What's the total amount?"

"314.1 pesos"

"Now, looking it up on yoogle, you get 1 dollar per every 16.91 pesos. So, you divide the total amount by 16.91 and then you get your answer, which is?"

"18.6 dollars!"

"That's my boy, now let's go down and eat dinner before it gets cold."

You and your son head down to the dinner table where your husband was patiently waiting for you to.

"What took so long?"

"Homework." You and your son said simultaneously. You both laughed before all three of you started to dig in.

🤎timeskip cuz im lazy + smut🤎

Your husband was now washing the dishes as you boxed up the leftovers for your lunch tomorrow. As soon you as you were done with that you were right back onto clinging to your husband. You started trailing kisses up and down his neck, leaving hickies in certain areas. Sol started to groan as you were caressing his hips, occasionally trailing over his hard on before going under his shirt to play with his nipples.

"Mmf."

You leaned into his ear while groping his bulge.

"Shh baby."

"Wha-haa. What abous Sebastian?"

"Taking a shower. Now let me take care of my sexy husband."

You decided you were done with the teasing, so your hands finally found their way under Sol's waistband and at the base of his cock.

"Hm? What's this? Basketball shorts and no draws? You wanted this to happen didn't you? You were fantasizing about this all day weren't you?"

You teased your husband, both with your words and with your hands, slowly traversing up and down his length while occasionally flicking his head.

"Tha-hah. That's not... true."

"It's not? You don't want this? Should I stop?"

"No! No please keep going." Sol could feel you smirk against his shoulder which caused shivers to run down his spine.

"That's my pretty husband. Look at your pretty pink cock in your wife's hands. You love this don't you?"

"Yess!"

"Sh!" You tugged on his dick a little harsher which caused him to bend over and for him to almost drop a plate.

You heard the water turn off upstairs so you knew you had to finish him off quick. You let go of Sol's dick which caused him to whine. You grabbed his hips before harshly turning him around and getting on your knees. Sol's breath hitched in his throat when he felt your warm wet mouth take him all in. He gripped onto the sink as you practically sucked the soul out of him.

"Y/nn. Fuck."

You knew he was about to come so you quickened your pace and started fondling his balls.

Sol's release came quick and powerfully. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while his body involuntarily jerked itself further into his wife's mouth. His hips sputtered for a few seconds before they eventually stopped.

Sol's body fell flaccid against the counter, so you picked up his shorts and gave him a kiss.

"Thanks for desert honey. Why don't you go get ready for bed while I finish up the rest of these dishes."

Sol could only nod and wobble away, the high still heavily weighing on his mind.

Finishing the dishes only took 10 minutes, and once you were done you walked up to your son's room to wish him goodnight. He looked around, trying to spot Sol.

"Where's dad?"

"Oh, he went to bed early. He was really tired today."

"Hm ok. Goodnight mom."

"Goodnight sweetie."

You turned off his lights and left your son's room. You walked down to the opposite end of the hallway to enter your room where you found Sol laying on the bed, staring up into the ceiling. He greeted you with a warm smile and love filled eyes. You smirked while closing and locking the door. You stripped out of your clothes and you could see excitement spark into your husband's eyes.

"Ready for round two?"

Sol belongs to @fantasia-kitt

#sol brugmansia #solivan brugmansia #tkatb vn #yandere smut #yandere imagines #x reader #the kid at the back #soft yandere #the kid at the back vn

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untaemedqueen · 3 months ago

Text

A Lions Pride

Mafia Leader!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Dark Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Series Warnings: Death (On Page), Blood (On Page), Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), MCD, Dark Romance, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Kitten, Guns, Knives, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Anti-Heroes

A/N: This book is dark. I mean, it is a mafia book but it is going to test everything you know about Jimin and Kitten. Jimin is NOT a good man, we know this. We know what he does for a living. Some things Jimin or Kitten will do will have no remorse and once we understand this, we can truly enjoy their journey. Good luck, squad~ Enjoy the ride~!

Chapter Warnings: Car Chase, Possessive!Jimin, Daddy!Kink, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Hair Leash, Fellatio, Deep Throating, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie

Chapter 1.

Your body clock is not working properly. You should have already been up by now, waiting for the alarm to go off so you can get out of bed. But this morning, you're roused by the loud screeching of your alarm with a wince.

Tilting your body towards the noise, your hand raises only to slam down on the device with a sharp thud.

Your eyes open blearily only to take in the paintings you've acquired over your years of marriage.

"Easy, kitten," your husband grumbles, wrapping his arm around you and burying his face into your neck.

"I have to get up," you whisper, clearing your throat of sleep.

"No," Jimin breathes defiantly, curling his hand around your waist, "Stay. I'll get the cubs to school."

"It's Wednesday, it's your day to rest."

Jimin lifts his head lazily, one eye opening to take you in as the sun begins to rise and highlight your bedroom in beautiful colors.

"You're five months pregnant, you should rest."

"Don't tell me what to do," you whisper, booping his nose and throwing the covers off of your body.

Running a hand through his hair, he grabs your pillow as you rise only to pull it towards himself.

Even after all these years together, you're still the most beautiful woman your husband has ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is the luckiest son of a bitch and he'll be damned if you don't know it.

"Kitten, have I ever told you how hot you are?"

You hum gently, feigning confusion. Standing tall, you stretch out your limbs which are achy and dull with pregnancy pains.

"Not enough," you chirp playfully, grabbing your robe.

"You're very hot, baby," your husband breathes into the pillow below his face.

"You're pretty hot, too, daddy," you quip, heading to the bathroom.

Your husband groans long and low, lifting his head as you shut the door. "Don't get me excited when you're leaving!"

"Hawon," you breathe, blinking at your nine year old daughter as she steals one of Hana's pieces of toast.

"What? She's not gonna eat it," she mumbles, with a full mouth.

"What did we say about talking with your mouth full?" Jimin inquires, making himself known as he waltzes around the breakfast bar.

He kisses your temple, grabbing his coffee cup. "Thank you, Chae."

The sweet maid simply nods, going back to cleaning the oven.

"Talking with your mouth full makes you choke to death," Minseok announces, looking up from his Nintendo Switch.

"Who told you that?!" your husband cries, choking on his coffee.

"Uncle Yoongi!" Hana cheers, grabbing her orange juice.

You can only roll your eyes, nudging your husband with a scoff.

Raising children in a family of gun runners and murders isn't as easy as one might think.

"I'll talk to him," he promises, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing.

"Mom?" Hana asks, swinging her legs sweetly.

"Hmm," you hum, wiping Sejeong's messy mouth as he grabs handfuls of scrambled eggs.

"Why are you having a stinky boy and not a girl?" your youngest daughter breathes.

"Girls are stinky! Not us! You smell!" Minseok retorts, pointing his finger at his little sister.

"Do we point at people? Is that nice?" you ask your son as Jimin grabs his little hand.

Your husband bites down on his index finger gingerly, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Girls are still stinky," Seok huffs, folding his arms.

Mornings are always filled with this sort of family banter and Jimin loves it, if he's being honest. There's something so satisfying about seeing his family grow and interact and love one another. For years he never expected to be able to have something like this and now the head Lion finally has it all.

Running his hand over your pregnant belly, he sets down his coffee.

"Daddy?" Hawon chirps, grabbing her glass of milk and looking up from her book.

"Hmm, princess?" he breathes, looking over at her.

"Can I have twenty dollars?"

"For what?" he asks, pushing some hair back behind her ear.

"There's this new book at the school fair today about the reference and identification of the most significant amphibians, reptiles and mammals. I'd like to read it."

You can only smirk at her wide eyes, how excited she gets about reading. You were never studious and neither was Jimin, so you constantly question where this big brained daughter came from late at night during your pillow talks.

"Nerd," Minseok breathes, burying his face back in his game.

"You're a nerd," Hawon mumbles, holding out her hand and smiling widely.

Jimin kisses the top of her head and opens up one of the multitude of hiding spots of money only to produce a twenty dollar bill for his daughter.

"Can I have twenty?" Hana beams, holding out her own small hand.

Your husband chuckles deeply, the sound soothing your soul.

"What does my six year old girl need?"

"...Ice cream?"

Snorting softly, you pass Sejeong his sippy cup as he wobbles pleasantly within his high chair.

"I'll buy you ice cream later, I promise," her father whispers, kissing her forehead.

Turning your head to the clock, you stand up straight. "Alright, let's go. School time."

"Uuuugh," Minseok groans, jumping off the bar stool and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Hey, mister," Jimin breathes, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, "it's too early for an attitude. If the school calls me again today, I'm taking your Switch away. Understood?"

"Mkay," Seok murmurs, pouting at you.

"Come on," you breathe, handing the bib over to Jimin and kissing his temple.

"Be careful driving. Take care of my little man in there," he whispers, running a hand over your stomach, "I love you. Love you kids!"

Your children mumble their love as they leave your large penthouse apartment and you give him a quick kiss on the lips before following after them.

"Jeong, when you get older you're gonna be a good boy, right?" your husband asks your smallest baby, getting down to his height and sipping his coffee.

The baby sputters his tongue and lips almost as if answering the question perfectly and Chae laughs, grabbing some bowls off of the breakfast bar.

Jimin narrows his eyes at his son and pinches his chubby cheek sweetly.

There's something about your days being so regimented that it brings you peace. Albeit, they can be a little boring but after your years of excitement -- boring is welcome.

You like hearing about Hawon's day and how she secretly whispers to you about a boy she likes in her class so Jimin doesn't hear. You like hearing about Minseok's adventures in pissing off Ms. Choi even though you'll have to chide him for it later. And you enjoy hearing about Hana's day as she tells you new words she learned and childish but fun science experiments.

But there are some days, like now, that the Vixen is pulled out of you by force.

Jimin wanted his kids to go to an esteemed, rich private school where a bunch of other mafia families drop their kids off for the day. He wants them to have a good education and understand that at the end of the day you need to work hard for your money like you both have.

After dropping them off, you round the corner to head to Hyunah's new restaurant when a brawl catches your eye.

Busan streets can be dangerous but they shouldn't be dangerous at eight o'clock in the morning. And you would have driven right by if a very, very familiar brand on some of the boy's necks weren't showing.

Slowing the Escalade down, your hand makes a fist and you punch the glove box open wordlessly. Grabbing your gun, you aim it at the window as it slowly lowers.

"You fucking pussy! Don't you dare ever touch my girl, you understand me?!"

Oh good, they aren't fighting about guns.

Whistling sharply, you stop your car in front of the eight men.

They angle their heads low to look in and when the four Lions spot you, they stand up straighter.

One of them catches your eye immediately and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Who the fuck are you pointing a gun at, bitch? You b--" the man is cut off as the Lions tackle him to the ground.

"Oh," you breathe, looking down at your nails.

Shutting off your car, you climb out with a sigh.

The streets are quiet this morning and you count your stars that no ordinary person is passing by this old run down street at the moment. They might see something unfortunate that could scar them for life.

Rounding the car hood, you click your teeth softly.

"My little Lions, it's too early for this. You're gonna make me late for brunch," you hiss, smacking the Lion you know the closest upside the head.

"Noona, I'm so sorry," he whines, rubbing the back of his head as he cringes.

"Hoonie," you sigh, twirling your gun around your finger.

You watch with bored eyes as the men continue to fight and when one of them looks over at you, Sanghoon shields your body with his own.

"Who are you imbeciles anyway?" you inquire, motioning your hand for Hoon to stop all this nonsense.

"They're under Oh Byung, they're Hyenas and one of them touched my fucking girl like she was a piece of meat!" one of your Lion's hisses, being tugged away from the fray.

You look over your boys with a sigh, they're beaten bloody with split lips and black eyes but the Hyenas look even worse and you can deal with that.

Holding your gun up, you tilt your head.

It's only when a police car passes by that the Hyenas know who they're dealing with. They begin to smile at your audaciousness, hearing the siren as you hold your gun up in broad daylight but they begin to wither when you tilt your head slowly to the cop car.

"Hands up!" one of the police officer's screams, jumping out of the car.

You hold your hands up and flash them the tattoo on your wrist.

"Oh! Mrs. Park, good morning! These men troubling you?"

Twirling your finger, your Lions show their brands to the cops and they step behind you as you look down at your nails once more.

"Yes, they are. I'm late for brunch now because of these stupid morons. I'm pregnant, hungry and tired," you breathe, passing Sanghoon your gun.

He sheathes it under his belt and you sigh loudly once more.

"Do you want us to take them in?" the officer asks.

You look them over, they seem drunk and strung out and it wouldn't be in your best interest to get into a turf war with Oh Byung who you've never even met before.

"No," you surmise, heading back to your car.

"But, Madam! They touched my g--"

The Lion stops themself when you simply tilt your head. "If you have a concern about it, you can bring it up to my husband at the meeting tomorrow. You can ask for vengeance then. I, however, as I have said countless times already, am late for brunch. Do you expect me to have to stand here on some random filthy street while you exact your revenge and I'll have to clean it up for you by having to parley with Oh Byung?"

The sharpness of your voice makes the Lions wince and the Hyenas stare down at you in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Madam. I'll bring up the matter tomorrow evening. I apologize."

You hum in agreement, rounding the car.

"Officers, good morning. Sanghoon, get your fucking ass in this car before I kill you myself," you hiss, opening the door and climbing in.

"Yes, noona," he whispers, rushing over to the passenger side and slapping a Hyena on the cheek in passing.

Peeling away from the curb, you watch in the rear view mirror as the police begin to split up both of the groups and you roll your eyes with a sigh.

"You're better than that, Hoonie," you chide the flower boy.

With a whine, he leans over to put his hand on your growing bump. "I didn't even do anything, noona. It wasn't my fault."

Most of the Lions know just how much you adore this younger man, since you've raised him from just a mere pickpocket to the brute he is now. Everyone knows he's your favorite.

"You're supposed to be keeping them in line, not letting them fight in the middle of the street on a random Wednesday morning! C'mon, Hoonie, you need to be smarter than that!"

With a sigh, he nods and pulls away from you. "I'm sorry, noona. I'll be better."

"Yeah, you better be."

Stepping into the restaurant, you nod your head to the hostess and she smiles at you widely.

"Mrs. Park, good morning! Hyunah is waiting for you in the private room!"

You hum in agreement, taking off in the direction without a word.

As you walk, you don't feel the familiar presence of the man you just picked up off the street and when you turn around to look at him, you roll your eyes.

"Sanghoon!"

There the handsome man stands, leaning against the hostess podium with a toothpick between his teeth. His smirk is broad and handsome as he flirts with the girl. He looks over at you quickly, watching how your eyebrow raises and your hands come crashing down on your hips.

"Call me," he quips to the hostess, jogging to be by your side.

"I am gonna shoot you," you hiss at him, turning on your heel.

"Come on, noona. She was pretty hot," he breathes, pushing the room door open.

"You think everyone is hot," you scoff, smiling at Hyunah and taking off your sunglasses.

"Little Lion causing big trouble?" your friend teases, leaning over the table to kiss your cheek.

"Clearly. Morning, gorgeous," Yoongi breathes, kissing your temple and smacking Sanghoon upside the head.

"Ow!" Hoon whines, falling into his chair beside you and folding his arms.

Yoongi pulls out your chair for you and when you sit down, he stands behind you like always.

It's a weird dynamic Hyunah and him have now as their years go on. You expect him to always be by her side but that's never the case. He's always behind you, he's always been your confidante and your right hand man. You would have expected things to change but they never do.

Lighting a cigarette, your older friend leans back in her chair.

"Can you eat? Are you sick with this one?" she asks, ashing her cigarette.

"This baby is very good so far," you reply, throwing the word at her.

She hums in agreement, pouring herself a glass of sangria.

"What do you want to drink?" Yoongi inquires over your shoulder.

"Sparkling water," you reply.

"Hoon," your right hand man calls, leaving the room.

You watch them both leave and you quip an eyebrow to Hyunah as she sips her drink.

"Lioness…" she begins, crossing her legs, "promise me something."

Her voice is low with sorrow and you sigh.

"What'd you read in your tea leaves this time?" you jeer, folding your arms.

She doesn't smile, she doesn't take your words lightly like you expect her to. She just exists in the same space and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Promise me you will always take care of Yoongi and the Lees. Can you do that for me?"

The tip of your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you pull the petal into your mouth to peel some skin off. She's deadly serious and it courses concern through your bones.

"Hyunah… What're you talki-"

"I said," she hisses, venomously, leaning forward, "promise me that you will look after my fucking family."

"You know I will. You know I promise," you breathe, confused.

She gives a small sigh of relief then. "I knew you would, I just needed to hear it."

"Care to tell me what's going on?" you inquire, watching the doors open up once more.

"No. I do not," she mumbles, pulling from her cigarette.

You watch the smoke shroud her face like some sort of ethereal veil and you clear your throat when Yoongi puts the water in front of you.

"Where's Sanghoon?" you mumble, grabbing the water.

"Hitting on the hostess," your friend replies.

You watch his eyes flicker over to his wife as he sits down and you can see an animosity in his irises that makes you want to shudder.

This man for the past nine years has loved his wife so completely and so confidently that this random flit of anger has you seemingly confused.

It wasn't like this last week or even four days ago when you last saw them.

Four days ago, Yoongi was all over Hyunah at one of your meetings and now he doesn't even seem to want to look at her.

"Let's order," the head of the Lees breathes, burning out her cigarette.

Yoongi wafts the smoke away from your face and when Hyunah gets up to leave the room, you search his eyes for understanding.

"Don't," he warns you softly, coursing his rough hands over his face.

"Yoon-"

"I said don't," he hisses, smacking the table roughly.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you put your hand to your stomach and he swallows thickly as his eyes follow your hand. "Just leave it alone. Please, Y/N, for me. Just leave it."

"I'm just confused," you whisper, leaning towards him.

He gives a short, full laugh only to roll his eyes moments later. "Yeah, you're not the only fucking one."

"You can talk to me, Yoongi. You know that don't you?"

He takes a short breath between his teeth, running a hand over the back of your head. "I know. But there's nothing to talk about, okay? Hyunah is just being Hyunah and while it hurts me to say it… She has to handle her own problems. She doesn't want to talk to me."

You cringe softly at his pained voice and you can only sip your water as the Vixen who brought you up in the world reenters the room. She watches her husband pull away from you and clearing her throat, she sits back down.

"I ordered you porridge, you're too skinny with this baby," she breathes, grabbing her linen napkin and draping it over her lap.

"Thank you," you reply kindly, folding your arms.

You wouldn't be the woman you are if you didn't try to get to the bottom of this. And knowing yourself, you will get answers whether they like it or not.

"Noona, I have a gun run," Hoon breathes, looking down at his Rolex.

"Then go," you muse, stepping out of the restaurant with Yoongi by your side.

Sanghoon gives an expedient nod, kissing your cheek goodbye and taking off immediately.

"That kid walks around like he owns this fucking city," your friend huffs, watching the Lion walk away.

"Oh, leave him alone," you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

"That's exactly why he acts that way. Because he knows how much you love him and how cute you think he is," Yoongi chides, opening the car door for you.

"He is cute," you agree, "I raised him."

The gun runner rolls his eyes, rounding the car and when he climbs in beside you, you simply blink at him.

"I said, don't start. Why are you starting?" he hisses, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I didn't say anything," you mutter, holding a hand up as you start the car.

"I can see it in your little Vixen face. 'What's wrong with her, Yoongi?' 'Why are you acting like this, Yoongs?' 'Please tell me!' Stop," the Lion grunts, folding his arms.

"Well if you can see it then answer," you breathe, pulling away from the curb.

"Y/N!" Yoongi yells, slapping his hand against the dashboard, "I told you already, she won't fucking talk to me about it! God, when you're pregnant, you're so fucking nosy. Shit!"

Stepping on the brakes, you watch him brace himself against the dash and you widen your eyes at him.

Grabbing the collar of his suit jacket, you pull him to you with hardened eyes.

"You don't take an attitude with me, Min Yoongi. It's not my fault that your wife is being silent. Don't you dare be this way to me. Do you understand?!"

The gun runner sighs, closing his eyes and pushing your hand off of him gently. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm stressed out and I shouldn't take it out on you. You're just trying to help."

"If you need to take your anger out somewhere, you call Jina for one of the Golden Cage girls. You don't ever talk to me like that!"

"Fierce Vixen," he mumbles, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

The drive is silent for a while longer before Yoongi pulls out his gun and begins to clean it beside you.

When the Lion's are fucked up in the brain, when they're trying to work things out, they clean their guns. It's something they've picked up from Jimin after all these years.

"How many blocks have we driven?" Yoongi inquires, looking up from his lap.

"Uhhh, fifteen or so? Why?" you ask in return, tilting your head towards him.

"Make a left," he whispers, reassembling his gun with fast fingers.

You do as told, looking through the mirror behind you.

When a car turns the corner with you, you swallow thickly.

"Make a right," he breathes, pulling out the gun cartridge and counting the bullets.

Once again, you do as told and the car follows you.

"We have a tail," he announces, pulling out the burner phone.

Cracking your neck, you keep your eyes on the road as he calls someone.

There hasn't been anything like this to happen to your family yet in Busan and in a way it finally feels like you're being welcomed to the big city. No matter how fucked up it sounds.

"Park."

Your husband's voice is soothing and commanding on the other end of the line. Any nerves you would have begun to feel simply slink back into the recesses of your mind.

"Min," your friend announces, cocking his gun. "I'm with Y/N. We have a tail."

You can hear Jimin take a sharp breath between his teeth and you glance at the rear view mirror once more.

"They're gaining," you mutter, pressing your foot down on the gas pedal.

"Yoongi, you better look after my wife and baby, do you fucking hear me?!" Jimin yells.

You can hear the anxiousness in his voice and you find yourself smirking as the head Lion crawls out of his den at a steady pace.

"I hear you," Yoongi replies, putting the phone down on your lap.

"Kitten," your husband calls to you.

"I'm here," you promise, turning a sharp corner and bracing yourself.

"Kitten, are you okay? Do you need me to come and get you?"

"I'm a big girl now, Chim. I can handle a little car chase."

"Watch our baby boy," he pleads and you can just picture him staring out the window and running his fingers through his thick black locks.

Narrowing your eyes at the license plate, you take another sharp turn.

52 -- 5087

You relay the numbers and Yoongi nods dutifully as he puts them in his phone.

"Watch the fucking--" Yoongi screams, looking up from his phone.

"Kitten?!" Jimin yells nervously.

"God! Relax!" you yell back, turning the car away from oncoming traffic.

"Baby, please, be careful!" your husband whines loudly.

"You're acting like pussies! Holy shit!" you laugh, turning down a dirt road and stepping hard on the breaks.

"She always acts so fucking tough when she's pregnant like the baby is her shield or some shit!" Yoongi curses, shoving open the door and aiming his gun at the oncoming car.

"He better watch his fucking mouth," you hear your husband scoff.

Grabbing the phone off your lap, you also grab your gun and climb out of the car.

Holding the phone to your ear, you aim at the SUV.

"Jimin, earlier this morning some Lions were fighting with Hyenas. They might be trying to scare us or try to exact revenge," you calmly tell your husband.

"And let me guess," your husband hisses, "your favorite little boy was amongst them!"

Once the SUV stops and the doors swing open, Yoongi fires a warning shot high into the air.

"You step out of that car, I'm gonna put a fucking bullet in your goddamn skull! Do you hear me?!" your right hand man screams at the top of his lungs.

"Tell me where you are," Jimin pleads.

"Oh, baby," you coo softly, "don't worry about us, we'll be home soon. Can you ask Mirae to make me ginger tea?"

"Kitten, please. Tell me where you are and I'll kill these fuckers myself."

You ignore your husband, aiming your gun when a head pops up from the driver's side door.

Yoongi fires one more shot and the head ducks.

"You Lions are stepping on territory that don't belong to you!"

Yoongi chuckles, leaning against the car and closing one eye.

"We own all of Busan now! You go run and tell your boss that if he wants to act big then he can do it at a parley! You shoot either one of us, your whole family is gonna fucking die! Think carefully!"

You hum in amusement, climbing back into the car and brushing off your dress.

"See, I told you I'll be home soon," you tell your husband.

"Back the fuck up! Or I will shoot you where you stand!" you hear your friend scream.

You lean over the middle console and shove his door open for him as you begin to slowly back the Escalade out of the dirt road.

Yoong climbs back into the car, lowering his window and angling his body out of it. Holding up his gun, he flicks his hand and when the SUV starts to back out, he begins to laugh.

"I wish someone would give me a fucking reason to shoot them! Lord knows I could do with some stress relief right now!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Jimin inquires, curiously.

"See you when I get home?" you ask happily, pulling out of the dirt road and shooting one of the van's wheels with a wide smile.

"I'll be waiting, kitten. You know I would wait a million years for you," your husband breathes.

"I love you," you smile, driving back towards the apartment complex.

"I love you, too, baby. See you soon."

"You guys are gross," Yoongi murmurs, beginning to take apart his gun once again.

"You love it," you tease, putting your sunglasses on.

Stepping into your house, you smile at Mirae.

"Good morning, Madam."

"Morning, Mirae. Hi, baby," you coo, kissing Sejeong's forehead as the maid sets him down.

"Watch the baby," Jimin calls from the hallway and you turn to him with a smirk.

"Ginger tea is in the office for you, Madam."

"Thanks, Mirae," you breathe, looking over the apartment.

In truth, this apartment could rival the large estate you once lived in. No longer are there warm wooden walls to surround you but instead marble and granite meet your eyes. Jimin did right by his family, of course, as he always does. He renovated the top floor, ripping out the walls and doors until the whole place was one large home. All of your children have their own rooms and there's plenty more to spare which Jimin swears he'll fill them up over the next few years but you have no opinion on that matter. Your shared bedroom is way larger than your previous one and it has all the comforts you could ask for.

Peeling off his crisp black dress shirt, your husband tosses it carelessly over his shoulder, hooking it with his index finger. Walking down the large, sunlit hallway, your fingers brush over his hard abs as you pass him.

"Mirae, why don't you take Sejeong to your apartment for a while, hmm?" your husband breathes, following after you.

When you open up the office door, you watch Lion hop off of the desk like he knows he's going to get in trouble.

"Naughty boy," you hiss to him as he scurries out into the hallway.

Before you can even get to the desk, your husband is wrapping his arms around you.

"Are you okay, kitten? You're always so bold when you have boys inside you. You need to be careful," Jimin whispers, cupping your cheek with a soft hand.

"We're just fine," you promise, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

When you pull away, his fingers reach up to the nape of your neck and he twirls your hair around his fingers to keep you from moving. "If I remember correctly, you teased me this morning. You know how I feel about that, baby girl."

You whine softly, drifting your nails over the large tattoo that now covers his stomach and side, it's an homage to his family. Every cub he's had, you, his brother's, your names are scrawled across his skin for life.

"Who do you belong to, kitten?"

"You, daddy. Always," you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His free hand roams over your backside until he grabs at the skirt of your dress.

"This is expensive," you warn him, pull away.

He chases after your lips with a sly smirk, tugging you closer with the hand on your neck. "And who bought you this pretty dress?"

"You did," you reply, reaching down for his Versace belt.

Your fingers slowly tug at the leather until it hits the floor with a loud thud.

"And if daddy wants to rip this dress up, he'll just buy you a new one," your husband whispers against your lips.

Letting go of your neck, he grabs the bottom of your dress and the sound of ripping fabric echoes through your ears until you're scantily clad in just a bra and thong.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," Jimin groans wantonly.

When you jump up, he catches you easily, his hands settle beneath the globes of your ass and he presses you against the wall to open the office door.

"Watch the baby," he mumbles, biting his bottom lip as you suckle the thin skin of his neck.

His strides are quick and confident towards the bedroom and when you reach the solace of your room, he pulls you back to kiss him.

The tip of his tongue traces over your lower lip and when you open your mouth for him with a feeble whine, he groans long and low before you.

"Fuck," he curses, setting you down on the bed.

His fingers trail over your skin, producing goosebumps and you whine his name softly.

He kisses over your stomach, eyes on yours all the while as he makes his descent. When a gentle flutter makes itself known beneath his lips, he smirks.

"I know, mommy is impatient," he whispers to his son, tugging your thong until it's mere string.

"Daddy, please," you cry, spreading your legs.

If it's one thing that could never change between the both of you, it's just how easy it is to get you begging and panting with want for your husband.

"Oh? The tease wants to act like a little cum slut now, hmm?" your husband quips, spreading your lower lips with his fingers.

He finds himself groaning at the mess between your legs, shiny and slick with want for his large cock.

"Goddamn, kitten. You're fucking soaked," he hisses, slapping your pussy with the palm of his hand.

Your body writhes at the jolt of painful pleasure and the head Lion takes it upon himself to quell your pain. His pink, plush lips kiss at your throbbing clit, fingertips digging into your fleshy thighs.

"Daddy, please!" you beg once more.

"Mm mm," he denies you, sucking your throbbing bud into his mouth.

"I want your cock," you whine, taking your bra off.

"That's very clear, baby girl. Your pussy is a fucking mess. Daddy has to clean it up now since you're such a little cum whore," he murmurs, suckling your lips and licking a flat stripe over your weeping sex.

Your body sags into the bed, fingers carding through your husband's black locks of hair.

"God, this pregnant pussy tastes so fucking good," Jimin sighs happily.

It almost sounds like he wants to fucking cry. God, how he adores you.

"Fuck, kitten, I love you so much," he whispers against you, entering two fingers into your sodden core.

You sob loudly at the feeling, spreading your legs wider for more.

"I love you too!" you gasp, closing your eyes.

Curling his fingers to the soft patch of nerves inside of you, he diligently flicks the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Oh my God!" he whispers against you, putting his free hand to your belly.

"Daddy!" you blubber, gyrating your hips for more.

"That's it, baby girl. Cum on daddy's fingers. Show me how much you love it," he coos, kissing up your body and replacing his tongue with his thumb.

He rubs fast circles, minding your stomach as his lips part around your puffy, dark nipple.

"Goddamn, you're ready to make milk already," he hisses, suckling softly on your sensitized skin.

Your fingers grip his hair harder and your cries are becoming stunted and small.

The invisible band within you is tightening and your husband knows it all too well as you clench around him rhythmically.

"Cum on my fingers, kitten. Good girl," your husband praises, rubbing tighter and faster circles to your nub.

There is nothing better than having you alone in this big bed, the only woman he could ask for, his soulmate.

"Right there!" you gasp, seeing stars paint your eyelids as he keeps his fingers taut to the nerves inside of you.

"Give it to me," Jimin orders, moving his hand so fast inside of you that you choke on a moan. He suckles at your nipple harder, leaving your belly to pinch and roll your other forsaken nipple between his fingers.

"Yes, yes, yes, daddy," you chant, feeling the invisible band within you break.

"That's my good girl," he whispers softly, fucking you through the orgasm and moving his fingers out of the way for you to squirt onto the bed.

He groans at the amount of wetness that squirts from you and when you open your hazy, love drunk eyes, you find your husband smiling down at you.

"Hi, there," he whispers, kissing you languidly.

You can feel how hard his cock is as it rests against your thigh in the confines of his suit pants.

Tugging him closer by his belt loop, you flip him onto his back with a simple shove.

"Mmm, kitten," he groans, tucking a hand beneath his head to watch you.

Your fingers are cool and confident as you undo his pants and when you kiss down his chest, he sighs content.

"Fuck, your lips feel so good," your husband murmurs, letting his free hand lazily caress over your hard nipples.

When you whine at the feeling, the sound goes straight to his cock and it twitches, begging for mercy. His plush bottom lip tucks between his pearly white teeth and he sighs loudly when you free his hard cock from the confines of his pants.

"Kitten, be a good girl for me," he coos, grabbing your hair with his fist and making a makeshift ponytail.

"Yes, daddy," you preen softly, kissing down his long length.

"Sexy little tease," he hisses, tugging on your hair gently.

Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, his jaw tightens. His eyes roll into the back of his head and his chest puffs up with pleasure.

"Oh, kitten, fuck. Take it deep," he moans, tapping your throat.

Doing as told, you swallow around him until your nose nestles against his pubic bone and the sharp breath he takes between his teeth tells you just how good it feels for him.

"God, look at you, baby!" your husband whines, leaning up on his elbow to palm one of your breasts in hand, "you look so beautiful stuffed full with my cock and baby."

You hum in agreement, bobbing your head and getting sloppy on his cock.

His thick thigh muscles become terse and strained as pleasure shoots through him. His hips thrust on their own and he coos sweetly when fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

Brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, he moans your name loudly.

"Kitten! Fuck! Oh my God, you're gonna make be cum, baby girl!"

He tugs harder on your hair, eyes squeezing shut. Just when he's right about to cum, when you can feel his cock throbbing and thickening on your tongue, he groans. "Off, pull off, I wanna cum inside you, baby."

You hum in agreement, rubbing your thighs together for any friction you can receive.

"C'mere, kitten," Jimin whispers, sitting up against the headboard.

You whimper for him, spreading your legs over his own. His fingertips drift over your inner thighs and he sighs softly at how dripping wet you are.

"Watch my boy," he murmurs against your lips, positioning the head of his cock to your entrance.

You sit down on him slowly, moaning at the stretch.

"So fucking tight," your husband gasps, putting his hands on your hips, "your pussy is so wet, shit."

"Daddy," you gasp, curling your arms around his neck needily.

"I got you, baby. Take everything from me," Jimin whispers, kissing you passionately.

Your hips lift only to crash back down at a rhythmic pace. The head Lion's hands glide over your skin, tongue running over yours and swallowing your pleasurable cries.

There was no one in the world he could ever adore more than you and still to this very day he feels like the luckiest man in the universe.

Pulling him closer, he steadies you when his stomach smacks into yours.

"Easy, kitten," he breathes, cupping your face.

"Your cock feels so good, daddy! I love how big it is," you whine, throwing your head back.

His legs find purchase beneath yours and he thrusts his hips to meet you with every chance he gets. "Yeah? You love my big cock? You want to cum on it? Hmm? Wanna make your pregnant cunt cream all over me?"

You nod incessantly, mouth dropping open to give a silent scream.

"That's my good girl. Daddy loves your pregnant pussy, baby. Feels so fucking good," he groans, burying his face into your neck to suckle at your sensitive skin.

He feels it then, the rhythmic clenching around him that he knows so well.

"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" he taunts, grabbing your hips and fucking up into you faster.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and your eyes squeeze shut. "J-Jimin!"

"Oh my God!" he cries, laying you down on your back and thrusting into you with everything he has.

His plush lips suckle roughly at your nipple and he scoffs loudly as pleasure flows through him.

"Fuck, daddy! I'm go-gonna--"

"I know, kitten. Fuck, I feel it, it feels so good. Give it to me, baby girl. Please," he begs, putting your ankles over his shoulders.

His hand comes to settle at the apex of your thighs and he rubs sweet, unforgiving circles until your back is arching off the mattress.

"Just like that, baby. You're gonna make me cum. Your pregnant pussy is so tight for me," Jimin coos, kissing you roughly.

You cry out into his mouth as your second orgasm racks through you and with a groan, he flips you over.

Cupping your belly, he knocks your knees open wider until your head is hanging between your shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, you're so amazing, kitten," he praises, kissing over your shoulder.

"D-Daddy, your cock is so fucking big," you sob, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, I fucking bet it is. You love daddy's cock in your slutty little hole, don't you?"

You can only screech a million affirmations as he spanks the globes of your ass, burnishing his handprint into your skin.

"Y/N," he moans loudly when you begin to buck back against him.

"Cum inside me, daddy. Please fill me up. I want to drip with you," you beg, tugging his hand from your belly to your breast.

Burying his face into your neck, he pinches and rolls your nipple once more until his thighs begin to quake.

"I want you to walk around this fucking house with my cum running down your legs and my baby on display. Do you hear me, kitten?"

You nod incessantly, gasping when the head of his cock nestles against your soft cervix folds.

"Kitten!" he whines loudly, furrowing his eyebrows.

He gives sloppy, slow thrusts as his cum paints your velvet walls. Sighing loudly, he wraps his arms around you. Falling to your side, he kisses over the back of your neck.

"I missed you, kitten," your husband mumbles into your ear.

"This morning has been way too eventful for me," you breathe, closing your eyes.

"I have a lot of fucking questions for you," Jimin replies, rolling you onto your back and kissing your pregnant bump.

Rolling off of the bed, your husband grabs his briefs. You slip on his dress shirt, covering your breasts when the chill of the room finally seeps into your bones.

Pouring himself a glass of whisky, the head Lion fixes the waistband of his briefs. When he turns back to you, the smile that spreads on his face makes you raise an eyebrow.

"What?" you mumble, looking down at the shirt.

"Stand for me, baby," he coos, above the lip of his glass.

You do as he asks, walking over to him as he holds out a hand. Setting down his glass, he curls his arms around you as he faces the mirror.

"Look at you," he whispers, kissing your temple.

One hand falls below your belly and the other fixes his shirt to cover your breasts.

"God, I'm the luckiest man in the world," your husband chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear and swaying with you.

"You're gonna make yourself excited again if you continue on like this," you giggle.

Peering at your thighs as you begin to cream with his cum, he smiles wider. "You're right about that, baby girl. My cum looks so good on you, fuck."

Turning you around, he picks up his whisky glass once more. "Please explain to me what happened this morning, kitten."

You can only sigh, pulling him along with you to the bathroom.

He leans against the door frame, crossing his muscular legs and folding one arm beneath the other. Taking a sip of his whisky, he watches with loving eyes as you turn on the bathtub.

"Don't make the water too hot, my little man can't handle it," he reminds you, watching you strip off his shirt.

"After I dropped the kids off this morning, I saw some Lions fighting with a family I've never seen before. Hyenas."

"Who's the head of the Hyena family?" Jimin inquires, helping you into the tub and sitting down on the bench beside it.

"Oh Byung, I want Namjoon to look into them. They're also who tailed me and Yoongi earlier."

"Yeah, good idea, baby. We'll have Joon look into them… Also what the fuck is up with Yoongi? He's acting…-"

"Oh my God! I know!" you gasp, widening your eyes at your husband, "This morning was so fucking weird! When I had brunch with Hyunah… It seemed like they were on bad terms."

Jimin sips his whisky, furrowing his eyebrows at your words.

"Hyunah and Yoongi on bad terms? That doesn't sound right."

"I know! And she asked me to always look after Yoongi and the Lees like…like something bad was happening," you bleat, running warm water over your goosebumped skin.

"Did you press her about it? Did she say anything?"

You give your husband an incredulous look to which he simply hums in agreement.

"What about Yoongs, then?"

"He told me to 'mind my fucking business and don't start'," you recount, flashing your husband air quotes along with his words.

"I'll fucking shoot him in the neck… how dare he get snippy with you," Jimin hisses, setting down his glass.

"I mean don't get me wrong, we fight too and I get that but when he looked at Hyunah it was like… he fucking hated her. And I'm not just saying it to be dramatic, he really looked vicious and…and hurt."

The head Lion sniffs softly, staring at your belly as he lets your words process through his brain.

"I was only joking with her when I asked her what she saw in her tea leaves but she got so mad at me… like she saw red or something for even bringing it up."

"Huh," he breathes, tilting his head confused.

"I don't know. It seems like something to keep in mind and maybe even something to worry about if it doesn't get fixed," you bleat, grabbing the soap.

"Yeah, well, I don't want you worrying about anything. You just focus on making my baby boy big and strong. We'll deal with it if it comes down to it."

You give him a nod, laying back in the tub and sighing softly.

"I'm gonna go pick the kids up from school, you get ready for the meeting later, okay?"

"Okay," you promise, closing your eyes.

"I love you, kitten."

"I love you, too, Chim."

Setting your gun down on the table, you sit down in your large chair and when Joon enters, you toss your phone into the soundproof box like always.

"Hey, Y/N," he chirps, kissing your temple and taking his usual seat.

"She fucking ripped my hair out!" Taehyung curses, stepping into the large apartment that's now your meeting area and combing his fingers through his hair to see a very apparent bald spot through the mirrored walls.

"And why did she do that, hyung?" Guk chuckles, widening his eyes happily at the sight of you.

"Hi, noona!" he squeals happily, rushing over and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He runs a hand over your bump as he takes his seat beside you and you look incredulously at Tae who stomps his foot on the ground.

"Hyejin ripped my hair out because I taught Hyungwon what a 'pussy' is."

You can only snort, rolling your eyes at his antics.

"Hey, Y/N," he mumbles, sullenly, falling into his chair with a whine.

"You're the pussy," your brother-in-law laughs, stepping around the multitude of chairs to kiss your forehead. "Oh! Y/N! Jisuk made you and the baby a present if you wanna come over and grab it soon."

"Aw!" you pout sweetly, nodding to Jin, "I'll come over later to see it! How's my little Jungwoon?"

"He finally can eat scrambled eggs, you were right, he just needed a little more force to get solid foods down."

Winking at him, you watch the apartment door open once more.

This family has been getting bigger and bigger and you're so pleased to see everyone doing well.

"Uhm, noona?" Jeongguk whispers as Hoseok enters.

You lean over to him as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair.

"Yunjin has been having a really bad rash down there and Vixen was wondering if any of your girls ever had that…" he mumbles into your ear.

Pulling away, you pinch his cheek sweetly. "Oh yeah, that might happen. You might have to put more powder on after her baths or change her diaper more so she doesn't sit in the wetness. Try some baby powder at first and then put some ointment on for a few days. If it doesn't get better, then take her to the doctor."

"Okay," he promises, nodding strictly and pulling out his phone to text his wife.

"Guk, come on," Hoseok says, kissing the top of your head and tossing his own phone into the box.

"Sorry, one minute," the youngest promises.

"Leave him alone, it's a serious concern," you breathe, looking down at your nails.

"Thanks, noona," he smiles, wrinkling his nose and tossing the phone into the box.

Yoongi and Jimin step into the space together and you watch your husband rolls his eyes.

Uh oh. What happened there?

"Guns," he breathes, pulling his gun from behind his back and placing it on the large marble table beside you.

He plants a chaste kiss on your lips and you reply in kind.

"Yoongi… phone," Joon says, grabbing the box.

Your right hand man sighs loudly and he throws the phone in with a grunt.

Drifting his fingers over the gnarled scar on his cheek, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

"Hyung, c'mon… you know noona is pregnant," Guk complains, wafting the smoke away from you.

"Did you knock her up? Is that your baby? Why are you so worried about what I'm doing? Worry about yourself, you hear me?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," your husband breathes, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What'd you just say?" the youngest asks clipped through his teeth, quick to defend your honor.

"I said mind your fucking business, Jeon Jeongguk before I fucking make you," the older man seethes, pressing both hands to the table and leaning forward.

You watch the smoke lazily rise, his scarred eye squinting to block out the toxic fumes and you only cross your arms at the sight.

"Burn out the cigarette!" your husband orders, grabbing his gun, "you know you don't smoke around my wife when she's pregnant."

"Well then I might as well quit smoking forever! She's always knocked up!"

You take a sharp breath between your teeth at how wrong he is to say those words and you flinch when your husband kicks his chair back with fury.

"Y'know, you're acting like me when I was a fucking head case," Guk spits, narrowing his eyes, "I almost lost my life because of it."

You watch the youngest lift his shirt to show his gnarled, large scar and thinking about that day at his warehouse makes your skin clammy and your stomach roll.

"Burn. Out. The. Cigarette," Taehyung hisses to his left, practically pleading with his oldest friend to do as he's told.

"Fuck!" Yoongi yells, throwing the cigarette on the floor and stomping on it repeatedly. "You happy now?! You bunch of hypocritical fucks!"

"What's up, man? Is it Hyunah?" Joon inquires softly, spinning his wedding ring around on his finger.

"Do you see my fucking wife at this goddamn table?! Do you see that woman anywhere near me?! Don't ask me stupid goddamn questions!" your right hand man screams at the top of his lungs.

Calmly, you stand up.

"Yoongi," you breathe, rounding the table.

"No, Y/N, just fucking stop," he sighs, burying his face in his hands.

"Easy, kitten," your husband says, cautiously.

"Yoongi, you can talk to us," you promise, leaning against the back of Namjoon's chair.

Your friend kicks back his own chair and he grabs your shoulders roughly. His eyes are pained and frantic, looking down at you with gritted teeth.

You sigh softly when everyone's guns cock loudly.

"I don't want to talk about it. Why can't you just leave it alone?! I have my own problems with my wife. Just like Hoseok. Just like Taehyung. Or Guk or Joon or everyone else! What do you want me to say?! That my wife is acting out of order? That she makes me sleep in a different fucking bed?! That she suddenly turned on me four days ago and she won't tell me what's wrong?! Is that what you fucking want from me?!" he cries loudly, slamming his fist down onto the table until you envelop him into a hug.

He buries his face into your neck and he hugs you so tightly that it makes you flinch. Namjoon puts his hand to your back to keep you upright as your right hand man sobs loudly.

Swallowing thickly, you run your hand over his back.

Jimin uncocks his gun and he motions his hand for the others to do so as well. Turning his back to everyone, he tilts his head.

Hyunah would never just act like this for no reason, she's so fucking strong. Hell, she had a personal hand in making you as strong as you are.

"Get off," Yoongi breathes, clearing his throat and pulling away.

You cup his face, wiping his now reddened cheek before stepping back and rounding the table to your seat once more.

Sitting down once more, you tilt your head to Jimin as he pours himself a glass of liquor.

When he turns back around, he kisses your forehead sweetly.

"Namjoon, I want you to look into Oh Byung. I want everything on him that you can possibly find," your husband announces, sitting down beside you and placing his hand on your belly.

Your friend simply nods, making a mental note of it. "You got it."

"Yoongi, I'm also sorry that you're going through the shit right now but Y/N has always been by your side, don't you dare ever speak to my wife like that again. I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

Your right hand man nods, staring down at the marble table with narrowed eyes.

"Any other agendas for this meeting?" you inquire, crossing your legs and looking down at your nails.

The Lion's voices begin to drone in and out of your ears and you can only feel your husband's thumb brushing loving strokes over your stomach.

Moving to Busan to get away from all the painful ties to life seemed all too easy and as you and Jimin sit side by side, you can practically hear each other's thoughts screaming at one another.

Yet another problem arises.

#bts series #a lions pride #tbc #tld #chapter 1 #chap 1 #park jimin #jimin #jimin smut #dom!jimin #sub!reader

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