#Mint Tea Time Talks
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Here’s that masterpost I mentioned in my pinned post. It took awhile to fix some things but I'm going to be dividing stuff to make it clear what's original works, more canon works, and then a mix of both for a server I run. (Still loosely taking applications or well, for small interviews for people to join it. 18+ kind of server and pretty rad. Dm me if you want to ask about it!).
A lot of the ones posted or planned to be posted/are being planned to eventually write for a small series I'm doing for an au idea for Smile for Me are heavy topics and contain death, trauma, and just might not be good for some people to read. Don't feel shame in skipping them because I do have plans for more wholesome works to post in between the one I just finished and a continuation of that one in prologue/epilogue form (depends on which I write first). Keep yourselves safe and read the tags for things! {Will edit later and work on adding more to the masterlist as time goes on. If I forget, I'll try posting the links until I post the link to this list}
.˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚. Angst Writings .˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.
✧˚₊‧ Original Character works ✧˚₊‧
𖤐 “Nightmares, Nightmares. When Will They Stop?” - is a small story with my OC, Kouya Rivermasu that deals with a great deal of heavy topics. It was my first time posting something so it might not be the best, but read the tags before actually reading it to make sure it's a good story for you.
The link is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50809402
˚。⋆୨୧˚ Bloomhaven/AU spin on canon events ˚。⋆୨୧˚
❦ “Am I Better, Am I the Same, or Just Worse?” - is a two chapter fic that deals with the trauma of childhood, post-Habitat events, and has Boris having a panic attack while in the process of legally adopting my Flower Kid — Aspen. It's set in the current era we live in so these events happen closer to 2 years ago in our time and deals with my seaside, flowery town being mentioned so far. Has a good ending so a lot less trauma, but still deals with canon events.
The link is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51182377/chapters/129324394
⊹₊。ꕤ°₊ ⊹ More canon type events ⊹₊。ꕤ°₊ ⊹
❀˖° "Bad Choices Lead to Dead Ends" - is a two chapter fanfic that will potentially just get it's own section eventually due to it being the second part of a series I'm planning now. It follows the loop au that some people have used where Kamal and Boris are sentient. The twist? One of them is destined to die and the other is meant to stay back to watch the aftermath. The first chapter is Boris' POV and the second is Kamal's POV. I'd suggest reading one after the other to really put into effect the two halves of a picture type style put in. It gets really sad so I'd bring some tissues and skip out on this one if you're sensitive to death and your comfort character dying.
The link is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51857044/chapters/131115796#workskin
The link to my friend's art for the fic: https://www.tumblr.com/l0nelyappariti0n/735082417599168512/bad-choices-lead-to-dead-ends-chapter-1
˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ Lighthearted/Wholesome Writings ˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗
✧˚₊‧ Original Character works ✧˚₊‧
࣪𖤐 [Placeholder]
˚。⋆୨୧˚Bloomhaven/AU spin on canon events˚。⋆୨୧˚
❦ [Placeholder]
⊹₊。ꕤ°₊ ⊹More canon type events⊹₊。ꕤ°₊ ⊹
❀˖° [placeholder]
More will be added over time so be on the look out and if you lose this post, just know it's in my pinned post as well!
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I am by no means someone who thinks all plastic should be banned. Plastic has its place in the world, particularly in my world of disabilty and chronic hospitalizations, among other scenarios
But the fact that like eighty percent of the time I can't even nuke a goddamn mug of water and then steep a teabag in it without releasing a billion microplastics that I'm about to drink is uh. Not good
#tea#tea bags#microplastics#also i would be remiss if every time i talked about microplastics and not say STOP WEARING FAUX FUR GODDAMN#that and faux leather are what should be banned like goddamn#environmentalism#plastic#sigh#my mango ginger tea MIGHT be okay it's a bit unclear#but like i had to stop drinking the mint and lemongrass tension tamer from celestial seasonings#which might be for the best given celestial seasonings batshit insane eugenist cult background#if i ripped open the tea bags and put the lil tea shavings in a tea diffuser would that work#or is the bagged stuff too poor in quality for an infuser?
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Love me like this (OT8 x reader)



pairing: OT8 x reader omegaverse AU
summary: when you get your first ever heat well into your adulthood, the only thing you want to do is shut everyone else out. fortunately for you, your boyfriends have another idea.
warnings: omegaverse, virgin f! reader, uses she/her, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, face fucking, heat cycles, thigh riding, penetrative/unprotected sex, knotting, slight degradation, some mxm, spitting, bulge kink, some size kink, talk of safe words, mean dom! Chan, breeding kink, talk of mating bites, basically a huge orgy
wc: 10500 (jesus christ) notes: this is straight up filth (sorry) but also my first omegaverse fic!! here are there scents: Chan: petrichor/mint; Minho: vanilla/black tea; Changbin: jasmine/patchouli; Hyunjin: rose/vanilla; Jisung: bergamot/pink pepper; Felix: sea salt/sandalwood; Seungmin: lavender/fresh laundry; Jeongin: lime/grass; Y/N: caramel/brown sugar
You hadn’t seen the boys all day. Maybe that’s why they were so concerned when their first impression of you was the door slamming behind you on your way into the house. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but you did run here. You keep your head down and the anxious spike in their smells overwhelms you. You know you should explain to them what’s going on but you can’t find it in you, instead running toward your room as you ignore their calls after you. When a sharp pain hits your abdomen you trip a little bit, clutching your stomach. But with your instincts on high alert, you make it to your room before anyone can catch up to you, locking it behind you for safe measure.
“I’m fine,” you call out a bit harshly behind you. “I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.”
You’re more than glad that you decided to put on the strongest scent blockers you own today or they would have immediately known what was going on. Your heart beats out of your chest and you know all you want to do is bundle up and seek safety and comfort, so that is exactly what you do. Once the bottom of your closet is cleared out, you drag your comforter off of your bed and spread it on the floor. You find every blanket and pillow in your room and add it to the pile. When you spot Chan’s hoodie, the one that you begged him for just the other day because it was drenched in his smell, you know you need it the closest to you. You throw it over your body despite how warm you are, grabbing your noise canceling headphones for good measure, and shut your closet door behind you. It would be just a matter of time before they come banging on the door asking what was wrong but you just can’t tell them.
Your heat has started.
And though this relationship with your boyfriends is new, you hadn’t quite crossed the physical barrier with any of them yet. You also haven’t told them yet… that this is your first heat. That’s why it came on so unexpectedly and why, perhaps, you’re so ashamed. Trying hard to ignore the pain shooting through your body and centralizing in your stomach, you shut your eyes tight and focus on your breathing. You just need to sleep. For now, that’s all you need.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You smell petrichor and mint before you see him. You’re encompassed by the familiar smell of rain that immediately soothes you and you know when you open your eyes that Chan will be there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and your eyes finally flutter open. You take out your headphones and look at him, not saying anything.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“How’d you get in my room,” you mumble. You know you locked the door behind you so when you see Chan look at you sheepishly, rubbing his neck, you sit up to look at your door. Completely off of its hinges. “Chan,” you groan.
“I know, I know,” he tells you. “I wasn’t trying to go all ‘controlling pack alpha’ on you, but I was really starting to get nervous, you know? You ran in here lookin like you were in pain, you didn’t answer anybody and you closed yourself in your room… I know you wanted to be left alone but it’s been about two hours and you haven’t answered anybody. I was really worried, okay? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you answer. You understand. You really do.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks. His hand strokes your arm and it comforts you. The alpha notices your hesitation and sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Can I… can I scent you? I think it would calm both my alpha and your omega down a little… and you are wearing my hoodie. Do you want that?” You nod and crawl into his open arms, burying your face into his neck. You inhale deeply to get his scent and you notice his fingers lightly brushing over your scent patches.
“Don’t,” you say into his neck. He retracts his hands instantly and you sit in comfortable silence, him rocking your bodies back and forth peacefully in an attempt to soothe you.
“I started my heat,” you tell him finally. You feel him tense a little bit before he gains his composure.
“We thought maybe that’s what happened…” he replied truthfully. You shoot him a suspicious look and you notice his face start to turn red. “We noticed… uh… we could sort of smell your slick.”
“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing,” you groan.
“It’s okay, love, it’s natural,” he answers softly. “Everybody has heats and ruts… you’ve seen your fair share of alphas in pre-rut in this house to know that.”
“Not me,” you admit. “Everybody gets them… except for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never… gotten my heat before, Chan.” You can tell by his expression that he’s shocked and a little confused.
“But you’re presented…? You’re an omega,” he points out. That much is obvious, you want to tell him.
“I presented without going through a heat. I had… a pseudo-heat, basically. That first time my body produced just enough hormones that I presented but not enough to sustain a heat… and I’ve never had one since. They said my omegan hormones were too low.”
“But you started it today?” he questions. You nod. “It’s understandable… I mean, you live with eight overly-hormonal alphas that are now courting you. It’s probably your body's natural reaction. Is that what’s got you so worked up?” You nodded again. “Why didn’t you tell us, baby?”
“I was embarrassed,” you admit shyly. He grabs your cheeks so that you’re looking right into his eyes.
“What is the worst that could have happened, hmm? Did you think we would tease you? Shame you?” You reluctantly nod your head from where it rests between his hands. “That would never, ever happen.”
“I know,” you tell him. Logically you knew that but you couldn’t help the burning feeling of shame and embarrassment that flooded through your body. “I was… at the store… and some asshole alpha noticed that I started my heat… I didn’t know how he knew. I didn’t even know! But he made some uncomfortable comments and I got so scared… I ran all the way home.”
“You poor thing,” he coos. “Next time if you ever need us or you feel unsafe, you can call me right away. You can call any of us. We’ll always come to you, no questions asked, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Can I scent you now?” he asks. You think about it for a second before nodding. Your body now feels like any threat is gone, maybe from Chan’s alpha pheromones that he’s been pumping out or maybe due to his reassuring words. You let him peel your scent patches off and your scent of caramel and brown sugar floods the room. With the undertones of Chan’s mint smell, the room almost smells overwhelmingly of a bakery. You know your smell is overpowering, sickly sweet and probably too strong but Chan inhales it straight from its source, burying your head in your neck. “Do you want me… or maybe another alpha… to take care of you for your heat?” he asks carefully.
“I was going… I just… I can do it myself,” you tell him. His eyes widen.
“For your first heat? Are you sure? It’s probably going to be a lot.”
“It’s just… I’ve never…”
“You’ve never had sex?” he asks. Your lack of an answer tells him everything that you need to know. “I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that, baby. If you want, whoever you might choose would be very careful and go nice and slow. They’d make you comfortable, love. Are you sure you don’t want to try? It’s up to you.”
His words have you already starting to heat up more than before. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together but Chan’s thick legs are in your way. You’d forgotten that you were practically sitting in his lap.
“Do you want that, baby?” he questions, noticing the arousal painted on your face and how your scent starts to sweeten the more you think about it. You nod eagerly. “Who do you want to pick for your first time?”
You think and you think but you just can’t seem to pick one of your alphas over the other. The more you think about it, you’re not sure you can leave any one of them out of the situation… you’ve come to love each and every one of your boyfriends, you were sexually attracted to all of them, and they all make you feel comforted and feel like you’re at home. Your wolf cannot stand to have one and not the others, practically howling in protest. Your stomach twists when you think about how to express this to Chan.
“Need… you all. I want everyone to be there.” His eyes widen slightly. You can tell he’s more than aroused by the thought of it.
“You’re sure?” he asks, scanning your expression one final time.
“Can’t choose. I want all my boyfriends.”
There’s no judgment in his face whatsoever. You know your boyfriends have all had multiple partners for their ruts before so this wouldn’t be anything new… You were the last to be courted, the last to join the relationship, and so you were the only one who hadn’t crossed that barrier with anyone yet. You’re a little nervous but more than excited for the prospect of what’s to come, to finally cross the line with all eight of them. And you can't wait to tell them.
When Chan asks if you want to move your nest into the den you agree. The makeshift nest in your closet just isn't going to cut it anymore. You need something suitable for all eight of your alphas. Chan clears the den before you enter and takes the time to explain to all of the boys what is going on while you work on building your communal nest.
Spreading out your comforter widely across the floor, you start rummaging around the house to find items from everyone. You want the blanket on the couch, the one that smells a little bit like everyone… Chan’s hoodie, of course. Seungmin’s stuffed animals and Felix’s pillow get thrown into the mix. Changbin’s gym clothes, Jisung’s squishmallow, Minho’s dirty sheets… it’s almost perfect, though you almost cry when you find out that Jeongin just recently washed his favorite shirt. You knew it was the one thing that was missing from your nest, and maybe it was the hormones or the pain but that almost seemed like the last straw for you. Jeongin soothes you with his alpha pheromones and promises to heavily re-scent the shirt for you, which will have to do. Once the nest is an amalgamation of every smell swirling together you can’t help but roll around in it. You even find yourself starting to purr.
When Chan opens the door to the den, you find yourself wanting to show your pack alpha the nest that you’re so proud of.
“My nest. My nest, alpha, see?” you ask, grabbing his hand and inviting him into your nest.
“Beautiful nest,” he tells you. You squirm in excitement and smile wide at him. “Did such a good job, omega. Are you ready to invite the other alphas in too?” You nod at him excitedly, your scent sweetening as your alphas enter one by one. With you at the middle of your nest and an alpha on either side of you, two strong pairs of arms engulfing you and three more alphas on each side, you fall asleep with your omega purring in excitement.
“She fell asleep,” you barely hear Felix point out.
“She must be emotionally exhausted. Building her nest probably took a lot out of her. She needs us now.” You smile contentedly, happy to be surrounded by the people you love before the throes of your heat take over.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You wake up to a delicious feeling between your legs. You let out a whine as you grind against whatever you feel behind you and it’s only the muffled groan you hear that truly stirs you from your sleep-filled haze.
“Minho?” you squeak. Sitting up and looking around you, you realize everybody else is still asleep.
“Mm,” he replies. You feel your face flush in embarrassment and you quickly go to hide your face behind your hands once you realize what you had been doing. He’s quick to grab your hands and put them at your sides, his cat-like eyes boring into your own. “Your heat’s really started, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, clenching your thighs together to get a little bit of relief. “You can keep riding my thigh if you want to,” he suggests. You squeak when his hands take purchase on your hips, pulling you on top of him. Any protest gets stuck in your throat when his thigh slots in between your legs, placing pressure where you desperately need him most.
You rock your hips back and forth slightly, scanning Minho’s face for any judgment. Instead, you catch a whiff of his scent spiking in arousal, his black tea and vanilla smelling remnant of a coffee shop. You can’t help but bury your face in his neck, inhaling deeply to better consume his smell. Tiny moans are punched out of you as he guides your hips into him, grinding you back and forth on his thigh. You know you have slick pouring out of you but you can’t seem to care when he feels this good.
You can tell he’s restraining himself–he must know this is your first time doing anything, really. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him for too long but the sight of his lips caught between his bunny teeth is too hard to resist. You lurch forward, connecting your lips together despite the way your heart beats erratically. The way you squirm against him and the friction of his muscled thigh against your leg, it just isn’t enough. You need more.
You smell a familiar wave of stormy petrichor and Chan is pulling you off of Minho’s leg before you can protest. He maneuvers your body effortlessly, getting you in the exact position he wants you–lying on your back, knees propped up. His lips trail down your body for a moment, meeting your neck to breathe in your caramel scent. He licks over your scent glands for just a moment as if he were actually ready to devour you, but Minho thankfully quiets your moan with a quick peck to your lips.
Chan trails lower and lower still until he reaches your shorts, pressing long, open-mouthed kisses to your thighs that has your head spinning.
His hand reaches between your shorts, fingering your clothed core. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, examining your expression. You nod apprehensively. “I want to use my mouth on you, pretty girl. If you feel uncomfortable at any time or want me to stop, just let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper. That’s enough for Chan to slip your shorts and panties down your legs in one fell swoop, his fingertips hot against your skin. You immediately feel the urge to close your legs, especially since you know you’re dripping an obscene amount of slick, but Chan’s strong hands keep them open. The alpha shoots you a gaze that spreads hot throughout your whole body, stern in letting you know not to hide from him. Minho’s hand strokes your face, bringing you back to earth while you relax into his touch.
When Chan’s tongue licks up your slit and attaches itself to your clit, it’s like electricity spreads through your whole body. You moan into Minho’s hand which has quickly attached itself to your mouth, muffling your noises.
“Shhh,” he reminds you. You seem to have forgotten that there are six other alphas sleeping in the den at the moment and you’re grateful for his save. “If you want us to stop, blink your eyes three times,” he murmurs. You nod your head, eyes wide. Chan continues to lap and suck at the bundle of nerves between your legs, his fingers coming to grab the slick that spills out of you. Rather than pushing his fingers into you like you expected him to do he softly circles your entrance, getting you used to the feeling. Between Minho working you up on his thigh earlier and the liquid hot desire that you had been fighting off all day, it doesn’t take much to bring you to the edge.
You can’t help but rock your hips into his face, seeking out more pleasure until his hands hold your hips down effortlessly. “Stay still,” he murmurs. “Take what I give you.” And you do—you take and you take and you take, relishing in every swipe of his tongue and calculated touch. When Minho reaches down to grab your breast over your shirt, thumbing at your nipple, you finally come apart. The two alphas help you through your orgasm, Chan watching you intently from his spot between your legs. He only parts from you with a soft pop once you’re done squirming and your ragged breathing has slowed.
Finally you notice the smell in the room. It would have been easy to miss over your sweetened caramel and brown sugar, but sure enough— jasmine, lavender, rose, bergamot, sea salt, lime. It must be your heightened sense of smell that causes you to easily pick up the scent of the other six alphas, all in various states of rousing from their sleep. As if on instinct, your scent spiking during your release must have awakened them.
When Felix opens his arms you gratefully accept his embrace. He has always smelled like the ocean, comforting and refreshing, but the scent comes out much saltier now. You can tell he’s trying to hide just how affected he is.
“Hi Lix,” you mumble into his chest. He rubs soothing circles on your back. Your emotional connection has always run deep with Felix, even before he asked to court you. His touch and scent has never failed to comfort you, not even now. If he notices your lack of clothes he certainly doesn't comment on them, though you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or his own.
“Was that okay?” Chan, ever the attentive and protective leader feels the need to ask. His alpha is running wild with the need to check in on you, pleasure you, dote on you… “How do you feel?”
“Good,” you answer with a small smile. “Felt good.”
You squirm in Felix’s lap a little. “Then why do you look so embarrassed, baby?” Whelp. You weren’t expecting for him to read you like an open book.
“S not enough,” you mutter. Chan blinks at you for a moment, prompting you to go on. “I feel like I need something more…”
“Awww,” Changbin coos. “Baby, do you need an alpha to pop a knot in you?” You find yourself letting out a small gasp at his words, red hot desire burning through your system. That’s exactly what you need.
You lean towards Changbin and slot your lips together. He certainly wasn’t expecting it but eagerly accepts it and you moan into his mouth, not caring about the seven other alphas in the room currently watching.
“Do you want a knot?” You’re not even sure who asked the question but you nod so enthusiastically that someone behind you snickers.
“Who do you want, baby?” Chan asks you. You only have to ponder for a second before the answer is clear.
“Changbin,” you confess. Maybe it was because he was the first one who suggested it or perhaps his tone, the slight condescending lilt in his voice driving you wild with desire.
Chan hesitates for a moment and you freeze. Did you say something wrong?
“I wouldn’t recommend that for your first time, love,” Hyunjin recommends gently. You furrow your brow and your scent must sour at his words—your omega already set her sights on him and you didn’t want anything to interfere. You whine in response.
“Why?” you pout.
“Changbin is, uh, the thickest one here? Um, it’ll be hard to take him for your first time.” Hyunjin flushes while you process his words. Oh. Oh.
You know that the eight of them have been involved, some moreso than others who had previously established relationships in the group, but such an intimate response from Hyunjin surprises you for some reason. Unfortunately, his words don't quite sway you the way that he had hoped. If anything it makes you squirm even more thinking about the way he would fill you up deliciously.
“Please,” you beg, though you don’t even know what you’re begging for.
“Why don’t you start with Lixie?” Chan suggests. His words hit you hard when you realize you’re still in the alpha’s lap. Felix, your Lixie and his sea salt and sandalwood and gentle touches…
“Felix,” you whisper into his ear. “Can I have you?” His eyes are blown wide due to lust and his scent spikes, telling you all you need to know but you wait for him to answer anyway.
“Of course,” he drawls. His voice has always sent sparks right down to your core but even more so now, you can’t help but instinctively grind into him, causing both of you to let out a low moan at the sensation. Felix pulls down his sweats, the only layer of clothing separating you two, and gently lowers you down to the floor of your nest. You spread your legs open for him and watch as he stares at your glistening core; you have no time to be shy though, not when you’re so desperate that you start to whine. Felix lets out a low laugh before guiding his length between your legs, teasing your entrance with his tip. He pushes into you slowly and waits for you to adjust, your heat fluttering around him and your eyes rolling into the back of your head in bliss.
“Move,” you tell the alpha, and he’s gentle in the way he rocks his hips into yours, slow but deep. Both of your scents swirl around the room overtaken by your arousals and you can’t help but think it smells like salted caramel, and the thought of how perfect your scents compliment one another has you going crazy. “More,” you tell Felix as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes flit to the other alphas in the room who all watch you intently, causing your body to flush more than it already was. Chan’s eyes bore into you and cause you to shudder, but when Felix presses his thumb to your clit and starts to go faster you lose your focus on the other alphas.
He works you up surprisingly fast and he presses his body closer to yours when you start to writhe underneath him. “So good, omega,” he grunts. “Perfect, sweet omega doing so good for their alpha.” You don’t warn him before you cum because you yourself are not expecting it. Felix looks like he’s trying so hard to hold back and work you through your orgasm but there’s only one thing on your mind.
“Knot, alpha,” you beg him. “Knot me, please.” Two more harsh thrusts and Felix spills into you, locking his knot into place as you continue to come undone around him with a loud cry. He brushes your hair out of your face and lowers his body onto yours, rearranging your figures into something more comfortable while you wait for his knot to go down. You sigh content in his arms, already feeling more satisfied than just moments ago.
“You okay?” Felix asks and you hum in approval. You felt more than okay but you didn’t know how to express that.
“Thank you, Lixie,” is what you say. You lay in his arms, trying not to squirm or think about his thick knot buried in your cunt lest you start to get yourself worked up again.
“Jesus,” Jeongin finally says, breaking the silence. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Everyone snickers at the youngest, eager alpha and you can tell he’s not lying, a sizeable bulge in his joggers to prove his point. You try not to salivate.
“C’mere,” you tell the youngest alpha. He looks at you with wide eyes and practically crawls to you, bringing your face into an unexpected, messy kiss. Jeongin has always smelled very citrusy, like lime and grass. His scent reminds you of summer and you fail to restrain from sticking your face right into his neck, licking at his sensitive scent glands.
“Hi, baby,” he coos. He tries to act nonchalant and unaffected by your actions but his breathing tells another story. You palm at the bulge in his pants and he lets out a small gasp, not expecting it. He watches as you desperately try to get his pants down and reveal him. “Whatcha doing?” he asks finally. “Lixie’s cock isn’t enough? It’s still buried inside you, baby.”
You flush at his words, feeling hot all over. As if to punctuate his point, Felix pulses from where he is inside you, causing you to let out a low groan. “Wanna touch you,” you pout.
“Yeah?” he smirks. He wastes no time now in pulling down his joggers, watching as your gaze is transfixed on his cock. It’s endearing, he thinks, that you’re suddenly so obsessed with him and making him feel good. Once revealed your jaw drops at his length; long and skinny but pretty, just like him. You reach your hand up to touch him, to wrap your hand around his girth but he slaps your hand away lightly. He tsks at you, instead pushing his hips forward to rest his cock on your lips, tapping it against them for good measure. “Come on, baby, you can take it,” he urges. With the innate urge to please your alpha you open your mouth and suckle on the tip, tasting his pre-cum coating your mouth. He’s delicious, just as you would have assumed, and you moan around him as he pushes forward slightly.
Felix curses behind you; you suppose that in your quest to help out the alpha in front of you, you’ve been slowly grinding your hips into the alpha still locked into you with his knot. You couldn’t help it, really, the sight in front of you is just too arousing to be helped. But Felix’s hands grab a hold of your hips, stilling you.
“Just one more minute,” Felix groans. “My knot… it’s starting to go down.” His voice is pained from overstimulation and so you do the best you can to not move a muscle despite the way the heat between your legs pulsates with need. You focus on Jeongin instead, bobbing your head forward and backward in an attempt to get all of him in your mouth. One of his large hands takes place in your hair, grabbing it but not harsh enough to hurt. It’s just enough for him to be able to take control of your head, using you to take over his own desires. Even still the alpha restrains, not pushing far enough into your mouth for you to choke. When you open your eyes to stare at Jeongin above you he is the epitome of beauty, his toned abs and v-line prominent from where his shirt is now lifted with the corner placed into his mouth. He looks downright sinful with the way he stares down at you with dark eyes.
You’re manhandled the second that Felix finally pulls out of you. A pair of hands are on your hips and you’re being pulled off of Jeongin and onto all fours, another alpha pushing into you before you have time to truly comprehend what is going on. The smell of roses and vanilla floods your senses and you know that it’s Hyunjin’s doing, eager to please you and fill you up before you have to beg someone else to do so. You’re thankful you can reach Jeongin even better in this position with no need to crane your neck. Jeongin pushes in once again, using your mouth as Hyunjin rocks his hips into you from behind.
You feel so full like this, your head starting to feel cloudy when the only thing you can see, smell, or feel are your two alphas. They set up a brutal yet sturdy rhythm between them, Hyunjin in your guts at the same time Jeongin hits the back of your throat. You feel something wet run down your face and Jeongin coos when he sees the tears from your lower lashes start to spill, quick to run his thumbs on your cheeks to wipe them away. He grabs your hair and pulls out, holding you up as he asks if you’re alright. You nod and shut your eyes again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. The only thing you crave at this moment is your alpha and his cock, the need to be thoroughly used for his pleasure while Hyunjin gives you pleasure of your own overwhelming.
Jeongin chokes out a breathy moan when he’s close, spewing praises in your ear that are downright filthy. His grip on your head gets a little more harsh and your face is straight against his pubic bone as he rocks his face into yours two, three more times until he’s spilling his warmth down your throat.
“Fuckk,” Hyunjin groans from behind you. “She’s so tight, she’s clenching around me.” Before you even have time to recuperate, Jeongin is pressing his mouth into yours in a searing, messy kiss. You moan straight into his mouth, unexpecting of the sudden affection.
“You gonna cum baby?” he whispers, a sly grin on his face. “Gonna cum on alpha’s knot?” Your eyes roll back in your head, focusing on the pleasure building up. You rock yourself back onto Hyunjin’s cock, feeling the precipice of your orgasm.
“Close,” you warn. “Hyunjin, please…” Jeongin grabs your chin and makes you look up at him and the sight of the alpha above you…
You and Hyunjin come apart at the same time, your powerful orgasm shaking through your body and causing his knot to slot in place as he releases inside of you with a groan.
Your ears start to ring with the power of your orgasm and you vaguely recognize Hyunjin lay you down on your stomach, his body slumping on top of yours as gently as he can muster. Someone strokes your hair and you lean into their touch, sighing contentedly. When Hyunjin finally pulls out you let out a whine of protest but somebody pulls you into their arms, holding you close. You’re rocked back and forth as someone whispers into your ear and it’s soothing. You’re surprised when the smell of lavender and laundry hits your nose because Seungmin has never been this gentle or doting on you before.
You blink your eyes open to see him staring softly down at you. It makes warmth flood your heart because you and Seungmin… have always had a playful, teasing relationship full of banter. He wasn’t one to coddle you or necessarily go out of his way to say kind things to you. He was more the type to show his love through actions than through physical affection or words of affirmation. Like memorizing your coffee order, giving you his hoodies to wear, folding your laundry for you when you’ve had a bad day, or taking you out to the arcade or to watch baseball games with him. His love was often unspoken and so the way he holds you so close to his chest, it makes light tears flood down your face with adoration.
“Seung,” you whisper. His hand strokes through your hair. He must be feeling a certain type of way, or rather, knows this is exactly what you need right now. Especially as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen and he cradles you even closer.
“You feelin okay?” he asks, voice laced with concern. “You can take a break if you need to.” You shake your head, the proposition of not having every one of your alphas distressing enough for a whine to leave your lips. “Hey, we’re not going anywhere, pup,” he tells you. “If you need an alpha cock that bad, there are eight of them to choose from.”
There’s the Seungmin you know. You hate to admit how his words are sent straight to your core. You’ve always loved your banter and teasing nature, and right now it has you red hot to your bones. You feel the slick pour from your legs and you whine again, shoving your head straight into his neck.
“You’re gonna act all shy now?” he scoffs. “Gonna act like you didn’t just choke on Jeonginnie’s cock ten minutes ago?” Your body burns at his words and you squirm in his lap, causing him to chuckle. “I can give you what you need if you ask nicely, pup,” he tells you, laying you flat on your back. You cover your face with your hands and he growls, pinning your arms at your sides.
“Please,” you whimper.
“That was pathetic,” he laughs. “You can do better than that.”
“Seung, please,” you babble, squirming desperately beneath his gaze. “Want you… need you please alpha, it hurts, want your knot, please take care of me…” Well, that seems to be exactly what he was looking for as he lets out a pleased shudder at your words. You watch, licking your lips as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down just enough to let his cock out. He teases it against your folds but doesn’t make you wait long before he pushes in, gentle but deliberate in his need to satiate your desires.
You let out a content moan at being filled by him. His arms on either side of your head, he starts rocking his hips into yours. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he softly grinds into you.
When you hear a wet sound behind you, you immediately turn your head. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Jisung on his knees with Minho’s cock shoved down his throat, one hand gripped harshly in his hair as he maneuvers him the way he wants. The sight is sinful, pornographic, nauseatingly attractive as your boyfriend looks so pliant and submissive for the other.
A light smack to your face draws your attention back to Seungmin. “Dumb omega,” he says in a teasing lilt. “Pay attention to the alpha that’s fucking you, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, trying hard to concentrate despite the lewd sounds that come from behind you. He makes it so easy to pay attention though, his cock bullying in and out of you in a way that has you seeing stars. You’ve always wanted to see him like this, for him to lose his composure because of you. And he’s still holding together so well, barely audible panting and low groans escaping his throat when his hips slam against yours just right… You want more, though. You want his smug grin to be wiped off of his face, want to see him lose himself to the pleasure in the same way you are. Right now, ‘this is for you,’ is what he’s telling you, and though he’s feeling good he’s only focused on you, his omega, and fucking her dumb through her heat because that’s what you need. You’re leaning up on your elbows before you can process it and pulling him into a messy, wet kiss–one that distracts him long enough for his pace to falter and for you to push him onto his back.
“What–” Seungmin starts, taken aback. His eyes widen slightly and his brow furrows in confusion but you’re taking charge of your pleasure now, using him while showing him you’re not all dumb omega, that you can take care of him just as well. You grab his hands and place them onto your breasts, squeezing around his hands so he gets the point to hold them the way you want. And he immediately responds, kneading the flesh and thumbing around your sensitive nipples.
You start rocking your hips and the satisfaction you get when he lets out a groan and throws his head back is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You want him to make that sound again and again, want to ride him until you make him pop his knot inside you. And when your hips slam up and down into his, completely setting the pace and feeling his big cock hitting all the right places inside you, you feel smug. Smug because Seungmin has his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth open and panting, unable to control where he puts his hands. The stoic, smarmy alpha act is gone and now all he can focus on is your tight pussy and the pleasure you give right back to your alpha. And you’ve always loved his voice, his singing beautiful and melodic in all the right ways, but now… Now? You would hear those pitchy whines every day for the rest of your life if you could.
The best part about this new position is that it gives you a perfect view of the show you were missing. As you bounce rhythmically on Seungmin’s cock you eagerly watch your Sungie get his throat fucked relentlessly. His big round eyes are scrunched shut, face dripping saliva and tears as he moans around Minho’s cock, pistoning into him at a brutal pace. The hand is still tight in Jisung’s hair, effectively holding him in place for him to just use… And Minho’s face is cat-like, predatory with narrowed eyes and a sly grin. You clench around Seungmin, losing your pace as you turn your focus to the show in front of you, your heart beating rapidly when Minho turns to look you in the eye and watch the way you chase your own pleasure. A thin glean of sweat coats his features and when Jisung gurgles around him, making a lewd pathetic sound, Minho throws his head back with an open mouth. You think it might be the most beautiful scene you’ve ever witnessed in your life. Then Minho pulls his cock out of Jisung’s mouth with a wet pop, and Jisung sticks his tongue out as if expecting what comes next. When Minho finishes all over Jisung’s face and eagerly laps up what he can, you cum too, the sight too irresistible to ignore the way your body wants to respond to it. And so you grind yourself against Seungmin again and your pussy squeezes him so deliciously, as if trying to milk out every last drop. It’s no surprise he follows suit, pumping you full of his release as his knot settles comfortably at your entrance.
You let out a loud, dramatic sigh as you collapse into Seungmin’s arms, relishing in the way he strokes your hair and draws little symbols on your back. There he is–the soft Seungmin that's comforting and caring, and not the Seungmin you usually see on a daily basis. You’ll take it, never one to complain about cuddles or a little gentle caress from your alpha. You nuzzle into his neck, letting that fresh lavender smell overwhelm your senses as you relax. You even start to doze off a little bit, your muscles tired from overexertion and your head nestled comfortably in the crook of Seungmin’s neck. Even though you’re both a little sticky from sweat, your bodies feel like they were meant to be pressed together like this.
It doesn’t take long for Seungmin’s knot to deflate but you find yourself letting out a whine in its absence. “Shhh, pup,” you hear him coo. You vaguely find yourself thinking you want more, need more but you’re flooded with the potent scent of petrichor that makes you feel so pliant and sleepy you can’t help but succumb to sleep. You want to whine, curse Chan for using his pheromones on you but you can’t bring yourself to when you feel a wave of security and comfort engulf your senses.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You’re in an in-between state where you can hear what’s going on around you but you can’t move, limbs and eyelids too heavy and protesting the signals your brain is sending.
“That was so hot,” someone says, barely audible. That at least floods you with warmth and satisfaction–your pack thinks you’re hot.
“I feel bad for making her fall asleep but she needed it, she was starting to push herself,” someone says, changing the subject. You can at least put two and two together and figure that it’s Chan expressing his regret. “Even if she sleeps for a few minutes, her body needs it.” Someone else hums in agreement.
“Was mean,” you slur. You slowly regain use of your extremities, fingers twitching then your whole hand. It takes some effort but you’re able to rub the sleep from your eyes.
“Sorry baby,” Chan sighs. He strokes your hair with deft fingers and you think you can forgive him, just this once. It is your first ever heat, after all, and who would you trust but your one and only pack alpha?
“You owe me one,” you say with a pout, and you open one eye to shoot him a playful glare.
“Anything,” he concedes. “But I think you have other company.” As you sit up and wiggle away from a sleeping Seungmin’s grasp, you notice the subject in question. A whiny, squirmy Jisung, eyes flickering between you and Minho at rapid speed.
“Please, hyung,” he squeaks. “She’s awake now, please? I’ll be good. I’ll be so good,” he babbles. Minho just watches with his arms crossed and squints at you, the hint of a grin splaying on his face. When he waves his wrist dismissively at the younger alpha he all but leaps into your arms. He kisses your face wet and erratic and you realize he smells more like Minho’s vanilla than his own bergamot. That thought alone, that Minho has already laid his claim on him is enough to have you squeezing your legs together, remembering the scene from not long ago.
His arms grope every part of your naked flesh within reach and you feel thoroughly felt, thoroughly wanted. You moan his name and babble and grab him back, arching your back in an attempt to press your core against his. He doesn’t protest–you’re so wet that his length accidentally slides into you and makes a loud squelching sound that causes you both to squeak. When Jisung ruts into you it’s desperate, messy and all-consuming. He barely pulls out before pushing back in, trying to savor the feeling of being inside you without having to fully leave.
A hand on his shoulder causes him to jump and it’s Minho with his devious smile. He still wants to have control over the situation, over Jisung, and his presence serves as that reminder. “Don’t you dare think about cumming before your omega,” he orders. “Only pathetic alphas can’t please their omegas, right Sungie?” Jisung nods frantically, his grip on your hips both bruising and grounding.
You’re not expecting Minho to bend down and start lapping at your clit so it takes you by surprise, your legs thrashing out only to be held in place by the two alphas. His precision counteracts Jisung’s reckless abandon, his eyes narrowing and darting between watching you and Jisung. As if to add fuel to the fire, he occasionally tongues at your entrance making sure to pay attention to Jisung’s length pistoning in and out of you.
“Good job,” Minho purrs condescendingly. You’re rocking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get Jisung deeper, to feel Minho’s tongue right where you want it. “Look at how you’re making our baby omega feel.” Jisung’s eyes are half-lidded at the alpha’s statement, his tongue sticking out as he pants and whines.
“M close,” you warn Jisung. You watch him closely, no longer paying attention to Minho or his actions.
“Oh god,” he whimpers. “Please, please cum. I’m gonna–gonna fill you up so good. Gonna cum so deep, can’t hold it anymore, y/nnie, please–”
Your orgasm crashes over you and Jisung explodes the second he feels you clench around him. He cums and cums and you feel his warmth so deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his release hits him just as hard as yours. His knot locks in place and you both let out a sigh of relief. He collapses onto you and you hold him tight, watching Minho rub circles into his back and your face alternatively. At one point Minho reaches in between yours and Jisung’s bodies just to thumb at your clit which makes both you and Jisung whine at the oversensitivity and for Minho to smile devilishly.
You think Jisung might have fallen asleep by the way his breaths even out, not even budging when his knot finally deflates. When you shoot Minho a frantic glance he is already moving, taking Jisung in his arms and prying him off of you. Though he whines at the separation he immediately curls up into Minho’s arms so he can’t be terribly distressed.
You throw an arm over your eyes and smile. You even let out a light laugh because how can this feel this good? How can your alphas take such good care of you, be with you during your first ever heat (which is supposed to be stressful), and make it so comforting and pleasant?
You smell jasmine and patchouli before you even see Changbin and you already want to press your legs together. Changbin is the thickest one here, Hyunjin had said. It’ll be hard to take him. You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge but you’re already second guessing yourself when Changbin fills you up with his thick fingers. Just two of them and you feel so full, but then he pulls his fingers out and sucks Jisung’s release from his fingers. The sight is almost obscene but your heart rate picks up, clearly intrigued by his actions.
“Want a taste?” he asks with one eyebrow quirked. You open your mouth and then shut it again before nodding at him shyly. You’re expecting for him to reach down in between you again, to find more of that white substance to scoop up and feed you but instead he leans forward, grabbing your jaw by the hinges and forcing your mouth open.
“Tongue out,” he demands. You do as you're told, sticking your tongue out as wide as it will go. Changbin leans even closer and spits directly onto your eagerly waiting tongue before lightly slapping your face, signifying for you to close your jaw and swallow. You do taste Jisung a little bit, a bitter mix of salt and his signature bergamot smell. For good measure, you stick your tongue out again to show Changbin that you swallowed every last drop. He smiles at you and you return it happily until he pulls down his pants.
Fuck.
They weren’t kidding–he was thick and long, his girth almost resembling a can of soda. You crawl backwards instinctively, wanting to say something intelligent like ‘there’s no way that’s going to fit inside of me.’ Of course, no words form and Changbin responds to your hesitation by grabbing an ankle, pulling you towards him alarmingly fast.
“It’s okay,” he coos. “Alpha will take good care of you, alright?” You whimper but nod your head, watching as he drags his length up and down your center. He positions his tip at your entrance and you can already feel the stretch. You’re well-lubricated with enough slick and cum now to at least make it a little easier–you’re not sure how you would manage without–but you still feel inch by inch stretch you out.
“Big,” you complain, squirming under his intense gaze. You can tell he wants to make some snide remark in return but instead he just blushes, his ears turning red to indicate your words have some sort of effect on him.
Finally he’s seated all the way inside of you and if you look down you can even see the slightest bulge in your tummy. He must see it too because he groans and flings his head back.
“Woah,” Hyunjin comments from somewhere behind you. “That’s so hot. He’s in her guts.” You laugh as Changbin says something filthy to him in return.
He hasn’t even started moving yet, staring at the bump in your stomach. When he presses down on it you both moan, the pleasure heightened.
“Look at that, babe,” he instructs. “While I fuck you full watch the way my cock hits your little tummy.” He starts in earnest then, the way he thrusts into you at full force enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He punches little noises out of you every time your hips connect though he’s not exactly quiet himself.
“That’s gonna be me next,” someone whispers in your ear. You look up to find an intimidating Chan lingering over you and he grabs you, positioning himself right behind you so he can hold you still while whispering improper words in your ear. “Gonna fuck my omega so good, hmm? Gonna stuff you full of my cock over and over again.” You squirm but he has a vice grip on you, leaning forward to nibble on your ear. His hot breath against your skin has your body running hot but you feel him everywhere, smell him and his petrichor with every breath you take. Even while Changbin is fucking the living daylights out of you Chan is there, distracting you from every other sensation. “Take what we give you,” he snaps when you move again. “Are you so cock-drunk and greedy that you won’t listen to your alphas?”
You shake your head, tears pricking at your lash line. “No, Channie, alpha, I’ll be good, gonna be good,” you promise. Changbin grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half while he bullies his cock in and out of you.
“Too much,” you wail at a particularly deep thrust and you hear Changbin scoff.
“Too much?” he mocks. “You don’t think your alphas know what’s too much for you? Silly omega.”
His words cause your toes to curl and your body to tense and before you can even warn him you cum around him so tightly you swear you black out for a second.
“So tight,” he comments and you let out a high-pitch sound and close your eyes tight while your orgasm continues to pulse. He fucks you so hard and fast through it that your body is overwhelmed and fuck, you’re cumming again.
Chan and Changbin both watch as your release squirts out of you, covering his lower abdomen and causing him to glisten in a way that’s obscene. But boy did that do something to Changbin, the scene so hot that he pushes his hips into you one final time and stills as he finishes. You cry out when his knot locks into place, not used to an intrusion that large and you think there’s no way you could move, you’re just too full.
When you lean your head back you see Chan smiling at you with a glint in his eyes you’d never seen before.
“What?” you ask him as he leaves small touches along your body, paying close attention to your collarbone and shoulder.
“Nothin,” he responds quickly. He waits a beat and then… “You need to take a break before we start? Need to take a nap?” It’s sweet that he’s checking in on you when you know he’s been dying for a chance to ravage you, his scent giving him away.
“Not a chance in Hell,” you laugh. “Alpha, you better fuck my brains out or I’ll find someone else to do it.” You’re bluffing and you both know it, his eyes darkening at your attempt to rile him up. You’ve heard about Chan and his tendency to get in these moods, his need to put people in their places and essentially… tame them. You knew you could push his buttons and he would show you a side of him you’ve never seen before while simultaneously trusting him to reduce you to a whiney, submissive omega for him. It’s what you wanted. He knew it too. You can tell when he tongues at the inside of his cheek and smiles, looking up at the ceiling as if to calm himself down.
“Cute,” he comments as if he’s talking about you and not to you. “Very cute. But when I have you crying because you can’t cum again and alpha’s cock is too much for you, remember that it was you who tried to be cute, and it was you who riled me up, yeah?” You gulp nervously. Chan looks… predatory, observing you as if determining when the right time is to strike.
“I could’ve been so sweet to you,” he continues on. Your breath catches in your throat. “You could’ve gotten sweet, loving Chan to help you through your heat, to fuck you slow and gentle. But that’s not what you want, right? You want the big mean alpha to ‘fuck your brains out?’
Changbin’s knot deflates and you wrap your legs around him in a last-ditch effort to get him to stay, to maybe fool Chan into believing that his knot is still locked deep inside you. But you’re not that lucky because Chan is quick to laugh and grab your legs, prying you off of Changbin as if you weigh nothing.
“Don’t be smart now,” he warns. “Finish what you started.” He pulls you close to him, sitting you down in his lap on his prominent bulge. He kisses you once harshly before trailing down, sucking a large mark onto your neck right below your scent gland. His teeth nip right where your mating bite would be, teasing you.
Your eyes flicker to everyone else who seems to be watching in awe. Hyunjin has crawled into Changbin’s arms now that he’s available but both of their eyes are glued to you as if watching a cinematic masterpiece.
“He’s so hot when he gets into his ‘alpha’ mode,” Felix whispers to Seungmin. You wanted to agree with him but your senses are so overwhelmed with petrichor and mint. Chan’s scenting you, claiming you as his as thoroughly as he can for the other alphas to see.
“They can’t help you,” Chan comments when he sees you shoot Minho a desperate look. He gives you a fake pout in return. “It’s me and you, omega. Your safe word is pineapple, okay? I will only stop when you say that word, otherwise it’s game on.” You nod at him and he grips your chin harshly, making you look straight into his eyes.
“Words.”
“Yes, alpha.”
Someone lets out a shaky breath.
He’s quick to maneuver you the way he wants, positioning you on your knees with your back facing him. You turn behind you to look at him but he grabs the back of your neck and pushes you face first into your nest. You hear him unbuckling his belt and you want to look so bad, to touch but he positioned you a certain way and you don’t want to disobey already.
Chan says nothing as he pushes his length into you, grabbing your hips and letting out a groan as he bottoms out. He pulls out and slams back in, causing you to lurch forward. Your hands grab at anything, a pillow or t-shirt in order to ground yourself as he sets a brutal pace.
At some point you hear him scoff and he reaches forward and grabs your arms, holding them behind your back. This lifts your face and chest off of the ground and he uses this new leverage to pound into you.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Perfect little cunt. Gonna… fill you up. Gonna make you round with my pups.” You gasp. You would have never thought he had such a filthy mouth and here you are, looking at the unfiltered version of him.
“Chan,” you moan, clenching around him. His thighs slap against the back of yours and you can feel him so deep inside of you that you let out sounds that can only be described as animalistic. Your orgasm builds up so fast that you barely have time to warn him, letting out a loud cry instead. He fucks you through it until the afterwaves have worn off and your head slumps forward. He lets go of your hands and gives you a second to recuperate and then he’s lifting you up again, cradling you in his arms.
You’re about to question what he’s doing before he slides into again and you squeak. He shushes you and grabs your thighs, lifting you up and down on his cock.
“You’ll let me use you, omega, right?” he grunts. “Let me use you like a little toy until I cum?” You nod and blink tears away at the overstimulation–you want to do this, want to be good for him. His grip will likely leave Chan-shaped fingerprints in your hips and that thought alone makes you feel warm, your wolf liking the thought of your pack alpha claiming you for everyone else to see. You throw your head back and Chan lets out a groan as if he’s in pain. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “Don’t show me your pretty neck like that. You’ll make me want to bite you.”
You gasp, your heart beating twice as fast in excitement. You’ve talked about mating bites before, but since the relationship was still so new you had assumed everyone would wait until the courting phase was over. But that thought of being his, belonging to him and the pack?
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he grins. He bounces you up even higher just to slam you back down onto his cock, relishing in the way your face scrunches in pleasure.
“Her scent spiked,” Seungmin comments intelligently. “She really wants you to bite her.” You want to make a snide remark, to tell him to shut up but nothing comes out besides a broken sound.
“Yeah?” Chan teases. “Would omega like it if I put a bite right… here?” He leans forward and places his teeth right on your scent gland, right where a large hickey was already forming from his previous actions. He bites you, lightly, not enough to mark or seal the bond, but it’s enough to make you cum again.
You’re surprised, he’s surprised, and you practically convulse from the intensity of it. His hips stutter and he falters, clearly taken aback.
“Gonna… gonna, fuck,” he gets out. You can tell he was going to say something that probably would have made you squirm from the lewdness of it but he can’t get it out because he thrusts once and then twice before he releases inside of you. He throws his head back and opens his mouth to let out a loud cry and he looks angelic in a sense, a thin sheen of sweat covering his features and thick muscles that makes him look like he’s glowing. You help the best you can, weakly lifting your hips to help him ride through his orgasm but his knot locks into place and he holds you so tight in his arms you think you might suffocate. He cradles you towards his neck and places you right into his scent gland and a sense of serenity washes over you.
You’re thoroughly spent. You feel satiated, no longer thinking about your pleasure or the desire that had overcome you. You can rest and you very well could fall asleep in Chan’s arms right now, with his cock still seated inside you but you know his protective inner alpha would never let him. Jeongin brings you water to drink out of a straw and you oblige, drinking every last drop in record speed. Minho is close behind with a sandwich–when did he even leave the nest? But he hand-feeds you every bite as you breathe in the scent of your eight boyfriends. Your nest smells like love. It smells like home, like the eight people who have vowed to take care of you.
Chan hears you sniffle and immediately tenses. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Are you hurt? Was I too rough?”
You laugh as you pry yourself away from his neck to look at him, grabbing his face with two hands as you plant a kiss to his lips. When you pull away he gives you a confused look, brows furrowed with pursed lips.
“I just love you,” you confess. “I love you all.” He lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes the tears were happy in nature.
“We love you too,” he replies with a kiss. “We’ll have to talk about this mating thing, you know.” A blush creeps up your face when you remember how eagerly your body reacted to the prospect of getting bit.
“I know,” you answer. “Just… want to be yours.”
“Babygirl you already are.”
When his knot finally deflates a pair of strong arms lifts you off of him. Changbin helps you lay down and Seungmin is waiting with a wet cloth to wipe you clean. You don’t even have to lift a muscle but you do, leaping into the arms of a sleepy but sated Felix. You nuzzle close to him and Jisung clings to your back immediately. You register a flurry of hands and legs all moving together to join the cuddle pile taking place in your nest but your eyes flutter closed and you let out a content sigh.
You knew that one day you would have to get your heat and though you were apprehensive about it, you should’ve known you’d have your pack to help you get through it. You should’ve known it was okay to open up to them about in the first place and you should’ve known they would take care of you without blinking an eye. Now you know and it has only reinforced your love and trust of them.
You fall asleep in seconds surrounded by the warmth of your alphas, your boyfriends, your pack.
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taglist: @lostgirlinthewoodss masterlist thanks for reading <3
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x you#stray kids x you#skz smut#stray kids smut#kpop x reader#kpop smut#chan x reader#bang chan#chan smut#chan#seo changbin#changbin x reader#bangchan x reader#minho x reader#han x reader#jisung x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#hyunjin x reader#ot8 x reader#skz ot8 smut#skz ot8 x reader
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pass the salt • e.m. smut
DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER



summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.
authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI
disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks
NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink
The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.
Dad never cooks.
For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.
Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.
Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.
“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”
The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.
Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.
The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.
“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”
When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.
You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.
Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.
“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”
"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."
The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.
There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.
When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.
You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.
Eddie's no better.
It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…
Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.
“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”
“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.
“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”
“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.
And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.
“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.
Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.
Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.
“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”
“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.
“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”
“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.
Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.
Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.
Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.
You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.
“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.
Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.
“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”
“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.
“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.
The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.
“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just looked stunned.”
“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”
The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.
…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.
“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.
“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”
“You are so welcome.”
Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.
…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.
While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.
“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”
And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.
“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”
And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.
“Yes, yes I did.”
…And then there’s dessert after dinner.
Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.
…The final instance takes the cake.
“What’s your major?”
You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.
“History.”
“Sounds boring.”
“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.
“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”
Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.
“Oh my god!” you yelp.
Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.
Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”
“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”
You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.
But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.
Slam!
Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.
“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”
———
To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”
You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.
“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”
You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.
So, so wrong. But oh, so right.
You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.
He doesn’t.
“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”
Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.
“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.
“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.
——
Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.
Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.
“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.
“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”
Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.
You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”
Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.
He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”
Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.
But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.
You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.
You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.
A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For what?”
You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.
“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.
“I’m not,” you insist.
“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”
He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.
“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”
“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”
Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.
Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.
“Oldest trick in the book.”
You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.
“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.
“No, Eddie.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.
His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.
"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"
Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.
The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.
Fuck.
Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.
“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”
Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.
“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."
You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.
You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.
"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”
You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.
A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.
"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."
And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.
"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.
He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.
That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.
And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.
“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”
The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.
You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.
“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”
And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.
The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.
“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”
You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,
“I was just tryna help her out.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#older! eddie munson#older!eddie#older!eddie munson smut#older!eddie smut#dad’s best friend!eddie#dad’s best friend!eddie munson#dom!eddie#dom!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader smut
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Tim doesn’t drink coffee, but he drinks tea.
So, so much tea.
He’s not a casual tea drinker, he doesn’t just have a stash of sugar and earl grey at his desk with a few mugs at the ready.
No, Timothy Drake has over sixteen seperate kettles and tea sets in his room. Some are china, some are vintage, some are shaped like flowers or frogs or painted with a Vincent Van Gogh style over it. Some only have one cup and saucer, some have enough for a tea party. Some are so old they’re are chipped and faded. Some are so new they haven’t been used and are still set up nicely in a display case.
That’s just the carrier of the tea, but the flavours he has on hand…
He has English breakfast, he has Merlot, he had Green Tea, Herbal, Black Current, Lemon, Chamomile, Honey, Mint, Butterfly Pea, African Solstice, Cherry, Chocolate, everything! If you can think of it or have heard of it somewhere before, he has it.
Every knows that he drinks the, they see him with a cup near constantly and he even has a keep cup for when he’s patrolling.
But not even knows exactly how deep his obsession goes.
Alfred does, because he once had to listen to Tim talk about how you can’t rank read through taste alone but also process and how it works with sugar and milk and sweetener after the older man made the mistake of saying he thought English Breakfast was best.
Bruce knows because he once threatened to confiscate Tim’s tar strainers if he didn’t get some rest and witnessed how hard Tim Drake can tweak firsthand.
Barbara knows because she once accidently broke a cup when she backed into a table with her chair and, while Tim was understanding it was an accident, she had to watch him go through the stages of grief in real time. The kid had openly mourned the cup that had been shaped like an apple as if it was a loved one and she swore not to touch them again lest she cause another funeral.
Yet, even though not even has seen the dozens of cases and cabinets he has to organise his tea leaves and dishes, there is one thing that everyone has a deep understanding of.
If Tim lets you use a cup, he sees you as someone to trust. He thinks you’re reliable and trustworthy enough to touch something fragile and valuable to him.
But if he serves you tea himself, from his own personal collection?
You aren’t just loved by him, you aren’t just his family, but you have single handedly gained one of the biggest allies you will ever have.
#batfam#tim drake#bat family#dc comics#batfamily#dc universe#dc#tim drake is red robin#tim drake is a menace#alfred pennyworth#bruce wayne#barabra gordon#tim drinks tea not coffee#tea drinker#tea drinking#Tim Drake drinks tea
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too sweet (simon riley x f!reader, possessiveness turned into fluff)
"i don't know why you keep coming back here."
you poured him a whiskey, neat, and slid it across the table. simon caught it with grace, signaling his thanks by lifting the glass your way. he raised it to his scarred lips and your breath caught in your chest, captivated by the way his throat moved as he swallowed his drink. shaking yourself out of that haze, you busied yourself with cleaning the bartop. "jus' like to keep watch." he murmured over the low din of bar chatter.
"thought we weren't dating." you said nonchalantly. "we're not." he was leaning over the counter now, making searing eye contact. "then why-"
"'scuse me." a man appeared, raising his two fingers to signal an order. you closed your mouth, ending the conversation effectively, and put on your customer service smile. "what can i get you?" he smiled, and you noticed he had a nice one. you had been too caught up in simon at first realize the stranger was quite attractive. "gin and tonic, ma'am." the nicety made you smile, his low southern accent quite endearing.
simon turned towards the stranger, pissed off your conversation was cut short. he’s as american as apple pie, all southern charm and a moonshine smile. "fuckin’ yank." simon grumbles, turning back to his drink. you try to hide a grin at his annoyance, ducking to find a clean glass for the stranger’s drink.
you pour it in front of him, years of practice letting the gin out of the bottle with a giant flourish. he gives you another one of those charming smiles, teeth so white he could be in a toothpaste ad. “wouldn’t peg you for a gin and tonic kind of guy.” you try to talk to patrons for a good tip, toeing the line of flirty. with simon’s pissed off mood, refusing to label the two of you and choosing to act like a guard dog at the same time, you decide to have a little fun. at the end of the night, you’ll hopefully get an orgasm with either guy you choose.
“and what kinda guy would’ya peg me for?” he leans on the counter, calloused hands raised loosely to grab his drink. he pulls it to his mouth sensually, drinking half in one go. his tongue darts out to clean a stray drop, all while his eyes sparkle in the dim light of the bar. you grow bold, left hand reaching to touch the brim of the actual cowboy hat he’s wearing. you rub your thumb over the edge for just a second, then bring it back down to your bar counter. “mint julep. maybe an old fashioned.” he laughed at that and you could practically feel the laser eyes simon is sending your way. an old fashioned is one of his go to’s, right after his whiskey (neat), something he orders without fail. and for you to casually throw that around? you obviously didn’t understand your agreement.
“just cause of the accent don’t mean i’m a mint julep kinda man. too sweet for my taste.” he drained the other of his drink and you watched his throat work, strong neck muscles straining. “another?” he cocked his head, assessing. “surprise me, sugar.” you giggled and simon stood up, chair squeaking with the weight of him. you cocked an eyebrow. no way he was giving up that easy. “goin’ for a smoke.” you nodded and he disappeared, like his namesake. you plopped the drink down in front of your stranger, and much to your delight, he gave you a genuine laugh. “i’ll be damned, a long island iced tea. you just got yourself a 30% tip, sweetheart.” you smirked. “all these nicknames and i still don’t know your name.” he eyed your name tag. “you’ve got a pretty one yourself.” you cocked your head, waiting. “philip graves. pleasure’s all mine.”
simon was stewing. did you not understand that once you fucked, you were his? you were claimed, he belonged to you as much as you belonged to him. he even had the bite mark to prove it. so he'd wait, like a good soldier. he could wait for eternity.
you figured simon had left. it was two hours later, and graves was still at your bar, flirting up a storm. he had nursed the long island awhile, a bit tipsy but nothing more. if simon wanted to give up and leave you at the first sign of competition, fine. all the more reason to go home with the cute stranger who'd been sending you looks all night. your shift was ending and graves noticed you wiping down the counters and counting out your till. "that guy earlier yours?" you shook your head. finally. you'd been waiting for this all night. "don't have a guy. i'm a free agent." he hummed thoughtfully. "can i walk you home?" you smirked. "sure."
you were walking out the door with graves when you felt it. a dark presence just outside the bar, lurking in the alleyway. simon. in a flash, your walking buddy was against the alley wall, simon's forearm pinning him to it. "y'r gonna walk y'rself home and never come back. copy?" graves seemed to be weighing his options, eyes darting from yours to simon's. seemingly, he decided you weren't worth it (bitch), and nodded to simon. "copy." simon pressed him harder into the wall, then let him go. graves walked off without a second look back, oozing sliminess that seemed to be hidden by the bar lighting.
your feet kept moving towards your apartment, ignoring the glowering man behind you. no one asked him to go all caveman, yet here he was. his steps echoed behind you, making them heavy on purpose so you could hear him. always so calculated. "stop." you kept walking. "said stop." you turned down your street instead. "baby, please."
you spun on your heel, marching towards the imposing figure he cut in the night. "you can't call me that." simon cocked his head at the finger you pressed into his chest. "why not?" a frustrated breath of air passed your lips. "because we're not dating. that's what you said." he stepped closer, your finger on his chest turning into a splayed hand to keep him away. "you were goin' t' leave with him." you shook your head. "you don't get to say that. you left." he pushed closer until he was towering over you, hands finding your waist. "was jus' waitin' f' you." some force moved your hand up his chest to find his neck, thumb brushing his pulse point. "you're so stupid." he squeezed your waist in admonishment. "an' y'r bossy." you squeezed his neck back in a fake choke. "you gonna kiss your girlfriend? you seem to be all talk no-" and he shut you up with a kiss.
--
um so i hate this. but it's been in my drafts for months so:
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod 141#tornadothoughts#ghost call of duty#fluff#ghost headcanons#ghost imagine#simon ghost riley cod#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝟏



listen up, pookie your kitty (yes, her) deserves to be treated like royalty. she works overtime for you, keeps you feeling good, and deserves top-tier maintenance. if you’ve ever wondered how to keep your girl fresh, healthy, and thriving, then sit back, grab some tea (preferably one that benefits her—more on that later), and let’s dive DEEP into the one and only guide you’ll ever need on vaginal health, hygiene, and overall reproductive wellness.
taking care of your kitty isn’t just about hygiene, it’s about honoring your femininity, connecting with your body, and embracing your divine energy. when she’s healthy, fresh, and balanced, you feel more confident, radiant, and in tune with yourself. a well-cared-for kitty enhances your sensuality, self-love, and overall well-being, making you feel empowered in your femininity. it’s an act of self-respect and self-care, a ritual that reminds you that your body is sacred. when you nurture her, you’re not just maintaining hygiene, you’re cultivating a deeper connection with your womanhood and stepping into your most powerful, feminine self.
1. internal care: what you put in is what you get out.
your kitty is a self-cleaning queen, but she still needs your help to stay in her best shape. what you consume directly affects her smell, taste, moisture, and overall health. let’s break it all down:
🎀 water is your bestie
first things first “drink your damn water, babygirl.” if your kitty has ever smelled a little “off,” felt dry, or just hasn’t been vibing right, chances are you’re dehydrated. dehydration leads to:
• stronger vaginal odors (not the good kind)
• increased risk of infections
• dryness and discomfort
how much should you drink? at LEAST 2-3 liters a day. and if you struggle with drinking plain water, add:
• lemon (helps balance pH)
• cucumber (hydrating AF)
• mint (cooling & refreshing)
🎀 lemon water = ph queen
starting your day with warm lemon water is a game changer. why?
• it flushes out toxins
• it helps balance your vaginal pH (prevents infections, odors, and irritation)
• it keeps your skin glowing (bonus win)
make it a daily ritual, and your kitty will thank you.
🎀 tea time = kitty care time
certain teas work wonders for your vaginal health. here are some of the best ones:
• ginger tea → reduces inflammation, fights infections
• red raspberry leaf tea → strengthens the uterus, great for periods
• chamomile tea → reduces bloating & period cramps
• green tea → full of antioxidants, helps with vaginal odor
sip on these daily and watch the magic happen.
🎀 probiotics: the real MVPs
your vagina needs good bacteria to stay healthy, and probiotics help maintain that delicate flora balance. if you’re prone to yeast infections, BV, or UTIs, adding probiotics to your routine is non-negotiable
best probiotic sources:
• greek yogurt (plain, no added sugar!)
• kimchi & sauerkraut
• kombucha
• probiotic supplements
🎀 best food for your kitty
pineapple
watermelon
strawberries & berries
coconut water
citrus fruits (oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruits)
plain yogurt (probiotic-rich foods)
cucumber
celery boosts pheromones and gives a clean, light scent.
ginger & mint.
pheromones are natural chemical signals your body releases that can subconsciously attract others and enhance your sensual presence. they play a huge role in sexual attraction, confidence, and even how people perceive you. the more balanced and active your pheromone production, the more naturally alluring, magnetic, and desirable you become.
foods to limit or avoid (can cause strong or unpleasant odors)
asparagus
onions & garlic
red meat
too much dairy
excess sugar & processed foods
alcohol & coffee
2. external care: keep her fresh & clean (but not TOO clean)
your kitty is a self-cleaning goddess, which means less is more when it comes to washing. over-cleansing, using harsh soaps, or douching = disaster. let’s talk about how to properly care for her.
🎀 washing: gentle, gentle, gentle
• use only warm water to wash your vulva (external area)
• if you need a cleanser, pick one that is pH-balanced and fragrance-free
• never wash inside your vagina (she cleans herself)
avoid:
• anything scented (no bath bombs, no perfumes, no harsh soaps)
• douching (throws off your pH and causes infections)
🎀 menstrual care: keep it fresh
your period is not dirty, but you need to maintain proper hygiene:
• change your pads/tampons every 3-4 hours
• if using a menstrual cup, sterilize it before and after each cycle
• wear breathable cotton underwear during your period
• drink iron-rich teas and foods to replenish nutrients
during your period, your body is already working hard to clean itself, so you don’t need to scrub down excessively. instead:
wash with lukewarm water & a gentle pH-balanced cleanser
avoid harsh soaps, fragrances, or douching — these strip your natural protective bacteria, making you prone to infections.
if you need a quick refresh, use unscented, pH-balanced feminine wipes (no alcohol, no fragrance!)
pads & tampons – change every 4-6 hours to prevent bacteria buildup. leaving them in too long can cause bad odors, irritation, and even infections.
menstrual cups – empty every 8-12 hours, wash with mild, unscented soap, and boil between cycles for proper hygiene.
drink 2-3L of water daily – helps flush out toxins and reduces bloating.
eat fresh fruits (pineapple, watermelon, oranges) – these keep your kitty’s natural scent light & sweet.
take probiotics (yogurt, kimchi, kombucha) – maintain a healthy vaginal pH & prevent yeast infections.
avoid too much caffeine, alcohol & processed foods – these can make you smell stronger and increase cramps.
drink herbal teas (ginger, chamomile, raspberry leaf) – these help relax muscles & ease cramps.
do light movement (yoga, stretching, walking) – keeps blood flowing & reduces bloating.
apply a warm compress or heating pad – this soothes your uterus & relieves pain.
take magnesium & vitamin B6 – these reduce cramps & mood swings.
cut down on salt & sugar – excess sodium & sugar make bloating & cramps worse.
🎀 underwear game: cotton only, babes
ditch the synthetic panties and switch to 100% cotton. why?
• it’s breathable
• reduces sweat buildup
• prevents yeast infections
also, sleep without underwear when possible, let your kitty breathe. (i don’t wear at home at all lol)
🎀 yoni steams: ancient but powerful
yoni steaming is an old practice that helps:
• cleanse the vagina and uterus
• balance hormones
• improve circulation
• relieve menstrual cramps
how to do it:
1. boil water and add herbs like mugwort, lavender, and rosemary.
2. sit over the steam (like a chair with a hole or squat over it but please don’t burn yourself, pookie).
3. let the steam cleanse and refresh your kitty for 15-20 minutes.
subliminal for yoni (listen whenever possible)
3. maintaining, tightness & strength
a strong kitty = better bladder control, better sex, and a healthier reproductive system. let’s talk about keeping her snatched and healthy.
🎀 kegels = tight & right
doing kegels daily helps with:
• stronger orgasms
• bladder control
• postpartum recovery
how to do it:
• squeeze your pelvic muscles (like you’re stopping pee)
• hold for 5-10 seconds
• repeat 10-15 times
do this every day, and you’ll notice a difference.
how to do kegels exercises?
pelvic exercises for women
🎀 waxing, shaving, or au naturel?
how you groom is completely your choice, but here’s the tea:
• waxing → lasts longer, reduces ingrown hairs
• shaving → quick but can cause irritation
• lasering → best long-term option, reduces hair permanently
• natural → totally fine but at least trim it time to time and clean it nicely to avoid any odour or infection
🎀 wipes: do we love them?
YES—but only the right ones.
• fragrance-free
• pH-balanced
• alcohol-free
use them after sex, gym sessions, or when you need a quick refresh.
4. sex & post-sex care: protect, cleanse, and glow
listen up, pookie—what happens in the bedroom affects your kitty’s health. whether you’re getting spicy on the regular or once in a blue moon, proper aftercare is a MUST. neglecting this step can lead to infections, irritation, or discomfort, and we don’t want that, do we?
always, ALWAYS pee after sex
i don’t care if you’re tired, cuddly, or just feeling lazy—get up and pee. this flushes out bacteria that might have entered your urethra, preventing UTIs (urinary tract infections).
wash her up (gently)
• rinse your vulva (external area) with warm water
• if needed, use a mild, fragrance-free cleanser
• pat dry with a soft towel—don’t rub! (also keep a separate towel only for her) (her means your vagina)
does pineapple really change taste?
yes and no. diet does influence how you taste down there, but it’s not just about pineapple. your diet plays the biggest role in how you taste. the goal is to eat foods that are light, fresh, and naturally sweet.
• sweet, hydrating foods = milder, pleasant taste
• too much processed food & dairy = stronger, unpleasant odor
foods that help:
drink at least 2-3L of water daily – keeps your juices light, clear & fresh.
add lemon or cucumber to your water – natural detox, makes your fluids lighter & more neutral.
drink coconut water – packed with natural electrolytes & lightens your natural taste.
chlorophyll water = internal deodorizer – helps your kitty and cum stay fresh & clean.
pineapple, mango, strawberries, watermelon – these are nature’s candy and make your cum sweeter & fruitier.
oranges, lemons, grapefruit – full of vitamin C, which neutralizes strong odors.
apples, grapes, kiwis – naturally sweeten your fluids.
cinnamon, honey, vanilla – add natural warmth & sweetness to your juices.
cucumber & celery – high in water & help flush out toxins, keeping you light & clean-tasting.
mint & parsley – natural breath & body fresheners.
sweet potatoes & yams – help maintain a balanced, natural sweetness.
foods to limit:
onions & garlic or strong spices
too much red meat and processed
alcohol and coffee
excess dairy
🎀 protect your pH: condoms matter
raw is fun and all, but if you’re not in a committed, tested relationship, you NEED protection. unprotected sex can:
• throw off your vaginal pH
• increase risk of infections (BV, yeast, UTIs)
• expose you to STIs plus girl you don’t wanna get pregnant especially if you’re not committed
if condoms make you itchy or irritated, you might be allergic to latex switch to non-latex condoms instead.
5. infections & odor: keep things fresh & problem-free
let’s be real sometimes, your kitty acts up. you might notice a smell, unusual discharge, or irritation. this is your body talking to you pay attention!
what’s normal vs. not?
your vagina has a natural scent—it’s NOT supposed to smell like flowers, vanilla, or candy (despite what some brands try to sell you). HOWEVER, extreme changes in odor can be a sign of something off.
when to worry:
❌ fishy odor → bacterial vaginosis (BV)
❌ strong, foul smell → possible infection
❌ yeasty, bread-like smell → yeast infection
🎀 infections 101: yeast, BV, and UTIs
(please go see a gynaecologist)
yeast infections
• symptoms: itching, thick white discharge (like cottage cheese), redness
bacterial vaginosis (BV)
• symptoms: fishy smell, grayish discharge, irritation
urinary tract infections (UTIs)
• symptoms: burning when peeing, constant urge to go, lower belly pain
6. gym, sweat & hygiene: stay fresh all day
your kitty is working overtime when you’re sweating it out at the gym. here’s how to keep her fresh, dry, and happy:
🎀 gym tips for vaginal health
• wear breathable cotton underwear or moisture-wicking fabrics
• change out of sweaty clothes ASAP
• wipe down with pH-balanced wipes after workouts
• carry baby wipes for quick fresh-ups
7. pregnancy, birth control & hormones: long-term kitty care
your reproductive health is more than just hygiene. hormones, birth control, and pregnancy all play a role in vaginal health.
🎀 birth control & vaginal health
obviously there are so many different types of birth controls like hormonal birth controls like pills, shots, etc. even non-hormonal birth control like using of condoms, copper iud etc. all of them have their own set of advantages and disadvantages so please please please chat with your dermatologist which is well suited for your needs and body
🎀 pregnancy changes everything about your kitty—expect:
• increased discharge (normal, but should be clear/white) and even month long periods (my mom faced this)
• higher risk of yeast infections
• vaginal stretching (kegels help postpartum recovery!) ask your gynaecologist when to start cause possibly your vagina tears during parturition (delivery)
8. womb care
whether you’re planning to have kids one day or just want to keep your reproductive system strong and healthy, taking care of your kitty and womb right now is one of the best things you can do. think of it like preparing a garden: the healthier the soil (your body), the better the flowers (your future pregnancy and baby). even if you’re not sexually active yet, you can build a strong, fertile, and balanced reproductive system so that when the time comes, you have an easy, smooth pregnancy and a strong, healthy baby.
your hormones control everything. your period, ovulation, fertility, and even your mood. keeping them balanced now will make pregnancy much easier later.
eat hormone-balancing foods
• healthy fats: avocados, salmon, olive oil (support hormone production).
• leafy greens: spinach, kale, broccoli (flush out excess estrogen).
• seeds: flaxseeds, pumpkin seeds, sesame seeds (help regulate your cycle).
reduce stress
• high stress = high cortisol, which can mess with your fertility.
• try meditation, journaling, or long walks to calm your nervous system.
limit processed foods & sugar
• too much sugar can cause hormonal imbalances & irregular periods.
avoid plastic food containers & BPA
• these contain chemicals that mess with your hormones & fertility.
tip: try seed cycling (eating specific seeds during your menstrual cycle) to keep your hormones naturally balanced.
maintain a balanced vaginal pH (3.8-4.5)
• drink water with lemon to help detox & balance your system.
• take probiotics (yogurt, fermented foods, or supplements) to maintain good bacteria.
• avoid harsh soaps, scented products, & douching—these strip away natural protection.
practice proper menstrual care
• switch to organic pads or tampons (regular ones have chemicals that disrupt vaginal health).
• if using a menstrual cup, clean it properly to avoid infections.
protect your womb
• avoid sitting on cold surfaces for too long (cold affects circulation to your uterus).
• practice yoni steaming with gentle herbs like lavender, rosemary, & chamomile to cleanse your womb.
EAT FERTILITY-BOOSTING FOODS
• avocados → full of folate, which is essential for pregnancy.
• eggs → contain choline, which helps with baby brain development.
• berries (strawberries, blueberries, raspberries) → full of antioxidants that protect your eggs.
• walnuts & almonds → improve egg quality.
• leafy greens (spinach, kale, broccoli) → rich in iron & folate.
DRINK WOMB-FRIENDLY TEAS
• raspberry leaf tea → strengthens the uterus & prepares it for pregnancy.
• ginger tea → reduces inflammation & improves blood flow to your womb.
• nettle tea → full of minerals to keep your reproductive system strong.
AVOID FERTILITY-KILLERS
too much caffeine (it affects egg quality).
alcohol & smoking (lower fertility & harm future pregnancy).
too much processed food (affects your hormone balance).
START TAKING PRENATAL VITAMINS EARLY
prenatal vitamins aren’t just for when you’re pregnant—they help prepare your body years before conception.
folic acid (B9) → prevents birth defects & supports healthy eggs.
iron → prevents anemia & strengthens the uterus.
vitamin D → improves fertility & hormone balance.
omega-3s (DHA & EPA) → support baby’s brain & eye development.
final words: love your kitty, and she’ll love you back
babygirl, your kitty is a queen and deserves royal treatment. stay hydrated, balanced, and mindful, and she will always be fresh, tight, and healthy.
this guide? your new bible. bookmark it, re-read it, and share it with your besties. your kitty care era starts NOW.
#girlblogging#dream life#empowerment#levelling up#manifestation#manifesting#love#aesthetic#flowers#gaslight gatekeep girlboss#girlboss fr#becoming that girl#just girlboss things#it girl#hygiene#female beauty#devine feminine#higher self#self care#self love#self help#self improvement#that girl#becoming her#becoming the best version of yourself#positivity#positive thoughts#natural body#body positive#body posititivity
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More owl141 please?
hiii honey~~ i hope you enjoy ~○~
The first time owl!reader falls ill the boys are a WRECK.
being much bigger owl hybrids, with proper treatment as fledglings, their immune system is better equipped for diseases and illnesses. They got their vaccines, physicals, and health checkups every 4 months.
But poor, sweet, small reader didn't get good health care in the facility/fledgling home, so when she gets sick, she's outta commission for a better part of a week.
It started small, her wings aching dully where they connected to her spine; a heaviness she couldn't shake. She winces every time she stretches them too far, yelping loud when she tried to force them out fully. Gaz gave her a long massage upon hearing the sweet cry of pain, and it eased the ache for a little, leaving her cooing contently in their shared nest.
But she got worse, not better :/. The next day, she couldn't even lift her wings up an inch, and her body completely zapped of energy as harsh coughs wracked through her. The poor readers head pounded, freezing cold despite the sweat clinging to her skin. She whimpered with every rattling exhale.
The boys were on edge from it.
Simon takes a full half hour, pressing her into his chest while soap and gaz give her wings another massage this time with aloe and jojoba oil soothed into each feather. They put a mint honey paste down her spine and covered it, soft smooches to hush her complaints about the stickiness.
It helped instantly.
Price is in the kitchen, hushed voice talking to a Dr on the phone about a visit. He returns to the nest room with medicine, tsking sharply at the birdie when she gets pouty about taking gross stuff. When she does, though, she's rewarded with coos and chuffs and gets a solid 2 hour nap, curled between her boys and snoozing so contently.
It doesn't last.
The dr shows up later that evening. Sweet little reader sniffling into Johnny's chest as she's poked and prodded. Simon gives a warning growl when the Dr squeezes too hard on her wing, causing the reader to yelp loudly at the pressure.
Soon, she's done, wrapped back up in blankets and hand fed soup. Poor thing has pneumonia, and it takes her almost 2 weeks to overcome it. She spends that time in a haze, in and out of sleep as she's doted on. Her fever breaks on day 5, which is a huge relief for the boys.
Late night treatments where she's propped against John's chest with a breathing mask over her face. The older male ran a soothing paw up and down her back, chuffing into her neck. He can hear Kyle and johnny in the kitchen goofing around while they prepare her tea with lemon and honey.
Simon, in his white tank and low hanging sweats, ran to the pharmacy for her medication pickup. Kissing her gently on top of the head when she whines at his retreating back. Her strawberry feathers fluffing in clear annoyance with a sharp tang of lime cuts through the air.
He huffs through his nose at the sound of John's deep laughter, no doubt ruffling her feathers just a bit more.
"Easy there, birdie. He'll be back."
Kyle and Johnny emerge from the kitchen tea and soup in hands :))
Take care of yourselves, okay guys? And stay strong. ❤️
#idk how to tag this#teletubbiesask#cod#cod x reader#one shot#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#hybrid au#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#owl hybrid tf141#owl!reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#john price#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#love them dearly ur honor#hybrid tf 141
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you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.
pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)
tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending
note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.
What a load of bullshit.
You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate.
There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months.
Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.
Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room.
And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them.
Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them.
(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.)
Were you dying?
That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees.
No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends.
That was absurd.
You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.
(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”
You huffed.
Maybe you’d try Severus next.
Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.
Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)
Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.
“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?”
Ba-dump!
Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.”
Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered.
Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares.
(And you were. If only you knew.)
“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius.
Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”
“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.”
“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.”
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.
James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.”
“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.
“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.”
Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins.
(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.)
Something stirred deep in your belly.
You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”
People could get the wrong idea.
You could get the wrong idea.
“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.
You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.”
“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head.
“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.
“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.”
They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart.
James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily.
“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat.
“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.”
“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words.
“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder.
“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.”
You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression.
(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)
“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)
But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.
“I’m fine.”
As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization.
You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends.
And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship.
Who were you to get in the way of that?
—
They would understand, you convinced yourself.
They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace.
But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise.
If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it.
Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs.
It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests.
(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.”
You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.”
“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.”
“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”
“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.”
Oh.
You were well and truly screwed.
“Thanks,” You croaked.)
But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses.
(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?”
You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”
Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”
“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.”
Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”
But only the wind replied.
Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat.
“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.”
You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.”
“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”
Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone.
You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”
It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too.
You didn’t go to his match later that day.
It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)
Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own.
You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”
“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook.
Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”
You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!”
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.”
“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.”
“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.”
“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.
Still, you missed them.
“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”
Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”
You cried louder.
“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”
Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”
Narcissa glared at him.
Lucius raised his arms in surrender.
Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?”
You nodded weakly. “I love them.”
“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?”
“I love them!” You hiccuped.
“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.”
“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob.
Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.”
“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much.
“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.”
—
Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready.
Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes.
Did you have a place with them?
You were about to find out.
“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.
(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.)
“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you.
Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you.
Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”
You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”
But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month.
A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist.
“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain.
(You made him feel unafraid of the moon.)
“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”
“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this.
“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested.
“Because you don’t feel the same.”
The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.
You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along.
“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”
“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”
“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.
James only smiled, stealing your third kiss.
Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory.
(You were art that he wanted to worship.)
He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”
He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.”
“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.”
You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.”
Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.”
You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.”
Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?”
You nodded. “P-Please.”
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.”
He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips.
Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath.
You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.”
Then, Lily captured your lips with her own.
She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.
#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#lily evans x reader#poly!marauders x reader#marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#hp imagine#hp x reader#reader insert#marauders imagine#hp fluff#hp angst#marauders fluff#marauders angst
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“i might hate you, but i couldn’t bare the thought of you spending christmas alone” for leah williamson
christmas confessions ─ leah williamson x reader
part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!
in which: your christmas plans are interrupted by the british weather conditions, leading to some unexpected confessions from your arsenal vice-captain
warnings: none
wc: 3.7k
A snowstorm. Of all things that could go wrong, a snowstorm was the one that seemed to put a hold on your Christmas plans.
Recently having transferred from Lyon to Arsenal, you'd gotten your head down and focussed on your football. Normally, you'd go home every couple weeks just to be back with your family, but with your recent move you wanted to make sure you secured your spot in the starting eleven. You worked relentlessly hard for weeks on end, not allowing yourself a break, and you were proud of yourself. Really, really proud. Your football journey hadn't been the nicest one yet – your academy years littered with injuries and setbacks, you were over the moon to have finally settled in Arsenal's starting eleven. But you were starting to feel the effects of your hard work, and you started feeling like you needed some time away. To be with your friends and family back home.
Finally, though, the winter break arrived. You had wrapped up the final training session of the calendar year a couple days ago, and you were now set to go home. A couple days, just the last week of the year, before you'd go back to England. A short flight, setting to depart at 3pm, arriving at a little before 5. Your parents would pick you up from the airport and you'd go for dinner, have a drink, before all going back to your childhood home and just enjoying each other's company. But that was without taking England's horrendous winter weather into accord.
It had been horrible the whole week. Freezing cold, snow and rain all throughout the week – it had already caused you a bunch of trouble in trying to get to the grounds in time, but you completely forgot that air traffic could also be affected by the weather. So here you were, in Heathrow, staring at the departure screen as flight after flight got cancelled. Not delayed, not moved, cancelled.
Left stranded, you called the first person you always went to when struggling, needing to rant about the situation.
—
Alessia was spending her Wednesday afternoon the same way she had done for the past 2 years since making her move to Arsenal; getting coffee and a pastry with Leah. The two blondes had grown closer since Alessia made the move to London, their friendship no longer held back by the distance between Manchester and the British capital.
It was nice, their little routine. Football training that day or not, they'd find themselves in a different coffee shop every week to try out their blends, or in Leah's case, their hot chocolate or tea. They would talk about anything and everything, catching each other up on whatever hadn't been said yet at the Arsenal training grounds.
The pair were happily chatting away over a coffee and a mint tea as Alessia's ringtone went off. The striker checked the caller ID and excused herself to Leah, answering the call. She knew you were meant to be on your flight right now, so for you to be calling there must be something wrong. "Y/n? Aren't you supposed to be-"
"Less, my flight got cancelled! The weather has gotten too bad in the past couple hours and everything's been cancelled. I've asked whether it can be rescheduled, but there's nothing free anymore this week. The next available flight was January 2nd, which is a joke! I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now, my family have been preparing for me to come over for the past couple days and I don't want to disappoint them. I just, I don't know-"
"Hey, hey, y/n, take a breath, it's okay." Alessia tried to calm you down, sensing your nerves through the phone. She shot Leah a look, who was sporting a confused frown. "The situation is out of your hands, love. You can't do anything about it. I know it sucks." Alessia heard you sigh on the other end of the call, probably feeling quite defeated over the whole situation. "I know you've been looking forward to seeing your family. As soon as everything's cleared again, we'll get you on the first plane to Germany. I promise you that. Football be damned."
You chuckled on the other end of the call, and Alessia was glad you managed to muster up a small smile. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Less." "Don't mention it. I'm here for you, you know that. Do you need me to come pick you up from the airport?" Alessia knew you packed quite heavily and it was going to be a chore to get all of your stuff into a taxi. "No, that's fine. I think I'm gonna sit down and have a coffee here, calm down a bit, and then call a cab. I'll be fine."
Alessia reluctantly agreed, only after having you promise that you'd call her if you needed her help, or if anything went wrong. She finished up the phone call a couple moments later and put her phone back into her pocket with a deep sigh. "She's gutted."
Leah cocked her eyebrows and let the silence linger a little longer, taking a sip from her hot chocolate. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know?" Alessia added. Confusion shot across the defender's face at her words. "What do you mean by that?" The younger girl chuckled and shook her head slightly. "Leah, I know why you're distant with her. But you don't have to be that way when she's not around, god she's at Heathrow Airport of all places. You can let your guard down."
Leah took a deep breath and set her cup down, visibly struggling with how to proceed with the conversation. "I don't know, Less. I just feel like if I don't talk about it, it'll go away. I know I'm being unreasonable, but I'm just protecting myself. I don't want to go through all that hassle again. Last time I dated someone in the work field, it didn't work out. I don't wanna put myself through that again."
"Who's talking about dating, Leah? I know you like her. I'm not saying you have to voice that, but you could at least be civil with the girl. She's overthinking it like mad. She asks me all the time whether she did something wrong. And she's nervous about it, seen as you're the vice-captain at Arsenal too. She thinks you don't like her and is scared she's gonna lose her spot on the team because of that. All I'm asking of you is a little human decency, to treat her like you treat other people."
Leah looked down and started fidgeting with the rings around her fingers. "Yeah, I don't know, maybe." Alessia put her hand on Leah's causing the defender to look up. "It's okay. Just don't be a dick, okay? It's not because you don't have one that you have to be one."
—
When you arrived home a couple hours later that day, suitcases still packed in the corner of the living room, sprawled out over your couch, her caller ID was the last one you'd expected to pop up on your screen.
Leah Williamson.
You sighed deeply and rubbed your hands down your face, not feeling like dealing with whatever your Arsenal teammate wanted to scold you about now. She was probably rewatching a game and felt the need to lecture you about all the things you did wrong, and you weren't in the mood for that. You were her defensive partner after all, and you knew damn well she had high standards, not only for herself but also for others, but it was the winter break after all. Tactics be damned.
You let the call run out, breathing a sigh of relief and settled back into the couch, impatiently waiting for sleep to take over to rid you of your foul mood. Not on Leah's watch, though. No more than a couple seconds had passed before you ringtone sounded through the living room again. Wanting to get it over with so you could get some rest, you decided to pick up.
"What's the deal, Williamson? I'd like to enjoy my break, if I'm allowed? You can lecture me all you want when we're back at the club." You knew you were being curt, maybe slightly unreasonable, but your heightened emotions combined with how the defender had treated you ever since you joined Arsenal made you snap.
"Hey, hey, chill, I'm not calling to lecture you, y/n. God, do you think I'm some fucking loser who does nothing but think about football on their break?"
You didn't like the way this conversation was going, despite only having spoken a couple sentences to one another. You sat up and rubbed a hand down the side of your neck, closing your eyes as you slowly inhaled and exhaled – trying to calm yourself.
"Sorry. My mistake. Why are you calling?"
You heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, the rustling of what sounded like a jacket and shoes being taken off. Of course. Coffee with Less. She probably overheard your conversation with her earlier.
"I was just with Less," she started. Bingo. "and I heard about your cancelled flight. I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to seeing your family."
You weren't quite used to this sentiment coming from Leah, the England captain having barely said a civil word to you ever since you joined her childhood club. It's not like you didn't speak, it's just that she made it seem like a chore every time she had to string a conversation together with you on the receiving end. Short, blunt, curt, sometimes outright disrespectful. You'd learned to accept that not everybody was always going to like you, but the least you'd expect from people was some basic human decency – something you thought Leah lacked sometimes.
You audibly sighed. "Yeah, it's crap. But I'll be fine. Now that you got that over with, what's the real reason?"
You heard a quiet snicker coming from the other end of the call, struggling to see what was so funny about your conversation. "There's no... other reason, y/n. I just wanted to call and check in. You know, defensive partner and all, just calling to make sure you're not drowning in self-pity."
You could hear the smile that tugged at her lips as she spoke out those final couple words. "Well, thanks, I guess? Thanks for checking in. Have a good rest of your night, Leah." You lowered the phone and were about to end the call, wanting nothing more than to fall back in the cosy bundle of pillows and blankets you'd set up for yourself.
"Oi, wait! I wasn't done!" You grumbled something incoherently under your breath before bringing the phone back to your ear. "I'm listening."
"This is gonna sound really weird, I know, but just let me speak. I was wondering if, if maybe you, you know-" A couple moments of silence followed and you were about to speak up, but Leah interrupted those plans. "If, you know, if you were free to come spend Christmas Eve with me?"
You frowned, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Leah Williamson, Arsenal teammate, who to your best knowledge absolutely despised you, is inviting you for Christmas Eve? A joke.
"Uhm, I guess, well-" You didn't get much further than that before the blonde's voice interrupted you. "Look, I know how it sounds. You're probably thinking I'm just doing this out of pity and sympathy, you know captain things and all that, but that's not it. I don't have plans, yours have been cancelled, let's spend it together."
If you weren't so caught up in your own thoughts, you would've noticed the slight waver in Leah's voice. She was beyond nervous on the other side of the phone. You'd never said this much to each other in such a short space of time, let alone the contents of what was being discussed. You'd never willingly been in the same room. If not for bonding nights, you'd probably never see Leah outside of the Arsenal training grounds.
You didn't get it, though. You'd spent countless nights wracking your brain as to why Leah would treat you like she did. But you blanked every single time. It gnawed on you. You wanted her to respect you, to acknowledge you, to treat you like she treated others. But she made that seem like the worst thing in the world. Unimaginable, even.
"So?" Leah's voice broke up your train of thoughts and you scrambled together a response without really thinking about what you were saying. "Uhm, sure. I guess. Yeah. Just text me the logistics and I'll be there." You didn't really feel like going, but you also didn't want to give Leah more reason to not speak to you. And in all honesty, you wanted the conversation to be over so you could finally get some sleep.
"Oh! Okay! Yeah, okay, that's great. Thanks. Okay. I'll text you. You text me too, okay? I'll see you then."
Your own goodbyes got interrupted by the tone of the call ending, a confused frown etched on your face at how nervous Leah had suddenly seemed. Not wanting to give it much more thought, you turned off your phone's ringer and threw it on the coffee table, finally drowning yourself in a very well-deserved sleep.
—
Tuesday night, December 24th. 5:23pm. Approximately one hour left until you had to be at Leah's. Of all people, Leah's. When you caught Alessia up about the plans the two of you had made, she reacted slightly suspicious. So much so that you thought she had a hand in it, but she quickly reassured you that was not at all the case. Still, she didn't seem surprised. If anything, she thought it was good. An opportunity for the two of you to just start all over again.
You couldn't lie, that sounded good to you too. You wanted to be friends with Leah, but you also wouldn't just forget how she treated you during your first couple months at Arsenal. That's not something you could forgive and forget through a pity invitation to spend Christmas Eve together.
Yet, you found yourself struggling to find something to wear. You wanted to dress nice, but not too nice, because you're just two friends spending the holidays together. Not lovers, not dating, god, probably not even friends. Teammates? Acquaintances, maybe. At best.
You finally settled on a light green dress. It complimented your body just right, accentuating your curves in all the right places but not too tight. You put on some light make-up and finished off your outfit with some accessories. You checked your appearance about twelve times in your full-body mirror in the living room, 'just to be sure', before eventually grabbing your car keys off the kitchen counter and exiting your apartment block. You debated walking to Leah's, it was a 10-minute walk tops, but that felt like putting too much trust in your pencil heels.
3 quick knocks on the door and a couple seconds later, you were met with a version of your defensive counterpart you'd never seen before. She was dressed in a pair of black slack pants, paired with a white button-up shirt. She had left the top two buttons open, offering a perfect view of the delicate golden necklace gracing her tanned skin. Definitely self-tanner, though, because God forbid the United Kingdom gets a sliver of sun anywhere past September – but you spare her the red cheeks by not pointing it out. Her hair was loose, falling graciously on her shoulders, a welcome change from the bun or ponytail she always had it in during training or games.
"Hey," you muttered, once you realized neither of you had said a word since Leah opened her front door. Unbeknownst to you, while you were eyeing her up, Leah also let her eyes glide over your figure, taking in your appearance. She thought you looked good. Really good. Too good for her own good. That good that she'd probably struggle to not mention it every 5 minutes, when conversation obviously dies down for the 30th time that evening. Because what does she talk about for hours with someone she always pretended to dislike?
Turns out, there's a lot to talk about. Uncomfortable silences? You two don't know those. And while it's been good, it's been comfortable and easy, you still felt quite apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And you could tell by Leah's body language that she was feeling similar to you. Conversation had been flowing easily, but it felt like you were just scratching the surface. Like there was something underneath that needed to be addressed, but neither of you felt like digging deep enough to be able to bring it up. If anything, you thought, that's Leah's job. After all, she was the one to invite you to spend Christmas Eve together after she spent months making you feel like she despised you.
And that's what she did. Eventually. After lots of coaxing and promises that you wouldn't be mad and you understood – you were quite mad and you definitely didn't understand – Leah finally mustered up the courage to talk to you about the past months.
She opened up about everything. How she'd been excited when she learned about your move to the club, at first. But when you came to visit the training grounds on your first day, that sentiment completely changed. Leah had always found you quite attractive, but that wasn't something that had to be dealt with seen as you were across the North Sea and not someone she had to deal with in her day-to-day life. So, even though nothing had been explored between the two of you, not even a single conversation strung together, she already started closing herself off.
She told you about how she kicked herself for it day after day, that she realized damn well how bad she was treating you. She knew that you didn't know where it came from, and that hurt her even more. She didn't want to hurt you, didn't want to treat you any less good than she did with the rest of her teammates, but she just couldn't let her guard down around you. Not with the way you looked, the way you carried yourself on and off the pitch, the way you worked so tirelessly to be the best version of yourself day after day after day. She admired you, really. But she didn't allow herself to feel that. To acknowledge that. To acknowledge you.
"I know it sounds stupid. Trust me, I know. You don't know how many nights I've laid awake just thinking about how poorly I was treating you. But I just couldn't bring myself to not do it. Because that would mean I'd eventually snap and just... tell you everything I've just told you."
You slowly nodded, not trusting your voice just yet after having just been quiet for what has been the best part of 20 minutes. You let her come to you, let her talk until she felt like she said it all, because you knew if you interrupted her she'd maybe forget things.
"And, for the record, I don't want anything in return from you. God, no, I just thought you deserved to know. And no, I didn't invite you out of pity tonight. I just saw an opportunity open up when I learned about your cancelled flight and I knew I had to take it. I couldn't let it go any longer and I needed to tell you. So hence, the invitation. I just hope I didn't ruin the rest of our night now, by confessing all of this."
You chuckled, slightly shaking your head before repositioning yourself a little on Leah's couch. You ran a hand through your hair and breathed out a shaky exhale, locking eyes with Leah as you looked back up at her.
"You're ridiculous, Leah. Honestly, I get it, I think, but treating me like that for this reason, is ridiculous. And I know you know it, but that doesn't mean that I can't tell you too, because-" Leah tried to interrupt you, probably to apologize again, but you held up your hand to signal that you weren't done speaking yet.
"Because, you made me feel like shit, Le. You made me feel like I wasn't worthy of that starting spot at Arsenal, despite knowing damn well that I was doing good in our backline. You made me feel like I didn't belong in the squad, like I did something wrong, like I did something to upset you. It was so conflicting, and it stressed me out. Real bad. It's not a nice feeling when your vice-captain doesn't like you. Or, rather, when you feel like your vice-captain doesn't like you. I know now that that wasn't the case, but that doesn't fix your case."
Leah looked down, fidgeting with her ring-clad fingers. You continued. "Look, Leah, it sucked. But now at least I know what was behind it. And I don't wanna keep being mad at you. Because truthfully, I want to be closer to you, closer with you. I wanna be treated like you treat other people, okay? We can explore whatever needs to be explored later, but first I just want us to be civil with each other."
The blonde defender looked up at you, hastily nodding when she realized you were waiting for some kind of response. "Yeah, yeah, god, yeah, that would be nice." She slightly stumbled over her words, trying to form coherent thoughts in a mind that was running at a 100 miles an hour. You scooted a little closer to her, closing a bit of the space that was between the both of you on the couch and slowly moved your hand closer to hers, that was laying dormant in her lap.
You searched her eyes for any uncertainty, concern, and then softly laid your hand on top of hers, giving it a slight squeeze. "Thank you for opening up," you said softly. "It means a lot to me. I know how you are with feelings." Leah twisted her hand and intertwined your fingers. "Thank you for listening. And thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I'll be better. Better for you."
"I know you will."
#woso#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#arsenal wfc#england wnt#lionesses
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Secrets to the Arabian Princess Scent 💐🧴🪷
So with Arab perfumes becoming popular in the West due to their strong projection and beautiful smell, and the Arab world becoming known for our knowledge on how to smell good af, I (a half Moroccan) am going to reveal some other ways we ensure we smell amazing to the girlies on Tumblr who are interested in Arab perfumes or just in generally smelling amazing 😍 Most tips are Moroccan but many apply to the Arab world in general (under the cut because this turned into a long post) ✨💞💐



1) Good Eating Habits: When my mother moved here to Europe, she was immediately struck by how the people seemed to smell like "pig." And that's no coincidence. You are what you eat, so coming from a country where nobody eats pig to one where everyone eats it, of course you're going to be struck by people smelling like it from the inside out. Not just that, but in the Arab world, it's also way less common for people to eat takeout and drink alcohol, whereas in many parts of the West, these things are a normal part of many people's diets and affects their natural scent. A lot of Arabs have also talked about how Westerners smell like "milk," and this is because Westerners tend to consume more dairy products than people in the East do. It's also common for Arabs to eat fruit as dessert instead of having cakes or cookies all the time (although speaking of cookies and cakes, the scents of rosewater, orange blossom water, almonds, honey, vanilla, oranges and lemons commonly used in Arab baking fill up the house with a wonderful smell while they're baking). Teas made from various herbal infusions are popular throughout the Arab world. Spearmint, peppermint, sage, cardamom, cinnamon, hibiscus, chamomile, anise, and thyme are commonly used to flavor tea in MENA. Dried lime tea is drunk in the Arabian Peninsula. Coffee flavoured with cardamom is also common. I especially like Turkish coffee. Spices like cinnamon, cardamom, and cloves are commonly used in cooking, and the scent of them can cling to your clothes and hair. Herbs like mint and parsley, which have natural deodorising properties, are often used in meals.
I'm not saying that you need to cut any foods out in order to smell good, but you should consider reducing the amounts of unhealthy foods and red meats you eat, and make sure to drink plenty of water and eat veggies and fruit daily.
2) Keeping a Clean House: Here in Ireland, a lot of people don't clean their houses every day. I know multiple people that only clean their floor once a week, and have a couple of neighbours who don't do much cleaning themselves and just have a housekeeper visit to clean once a week. But in Morocco, people clean daily. The home is also deep cleaned once a week, we even wash the walls. We don't wear shoes inside, and not just that, but we also have different slippers specifically for wearing inside the bathroom. Living in a clean space is important for smelling good, because no matter what you do, you'll always end up smelling like wherever you live due to spending so much time there. The scent will cling to your clothes and hair. Which means if your house smells dirty, you will also smell dirty.
As well as making sure the house is clean, Arabs also make it smell pretty with extras. For example, in Morocco it's common to burn incense or bakhour (perfumed wood chips), and the scent permeates your clothes. People also keep pieces of musk in their wardrobes (wrapped in a handkerchief). It come in scents like orange blossom, jasmine, amber, sandalwood, chamomile and lavender. An unused bar of soap or a sachet of potpourri in your wardrobe will do the same job though if you can't or don't want to buy musk. The musk can also be used as a scented wax melt, a home scent (you just leave it in a bowl), a body perfume (rub it on your skin), a hair perfume (rub on your palms and run through the hair), or to scent bathwater. Solid perfume made from natural ingredients has the same effect. I like Lush Rose Jam solid perfume, as it smells like sweet roses and Turkish delight, and a little goes a long way.
Specific to Marrakech, you can buy jasmine balls which you just leave around the house (if you're not in Marrakech, you can just leave potpourri or dried flowers and herbs in sachets on your desk, bedside table, etc). The Marrakech herbal shops also sell sandalwood bark which you burn. Oud and amber are also burned. Herbs like lavender are sprinkled under carpets and rugs so the scent rises as they're stepped on. Room sprays from brands like Nabeel are used, which come in a range of lovely scents (like the warm vanilla and oud Kanz or the rich floral Raunaq).
3) Personal Hygiene: In the Arab world, people shower daily. In Morocco, we also go to the hammam (public bath) once a week, and we sit in the sauna room, and then rub our bodies with sabon beldi (black soap), a natural soap made from olive oil and black olives, leaving it on for a few minutes before rinsing it off. Then we scrub our skin with a kessa glove after it's marinated. Exfoliating dead skin regularly makes perfume cling to you better (if you order Korean bath towels from Amazon, they're very similar to Moroccan kessa gloves and you use them in a similar way). Then after washing our hair, we use a ghassoul clay mask (some people also rub henna into their skin). After washing the clay off, many people rub rosewater or argan oil into their skin before heading to the relaxation area to enjoy refreshments. As well as helping us smell good, it also makes our skin incomparably soft. When my parents were newlyweds, my father remarked on how he'd never felt a woman with such soft skin in his life before. My mother attributes it to regularly using the hammams before moving here.
Obviously not everyone has access to a hammam, but you can create a similar experience at home. Just sit in a steamy hot shower for 10-15 minutes, wash your skin with a natural soap and leave it on for a few minutes before rinsing off and exfoliating with a glove. Then tone with rosewater and apply oil to your body.
Dukhan treatments (smoke baths) are practiced in Sudan. Married women and brides anoint themselves with oil, before sitting over a chair with a hole in the centre. Under the seat, there is a pit, in which acacia wood, frankincense, or other aromatic woods and resins are burned in a clay vessel.
As well as showering daily (and using the hammam regularly if you're Maghrebi), many people in the Arab world also perform wudu (ritual cleansing) five times a day before praying.
Women commonly apply Musk Al Tahara (white musk), an attar that smells like vanilla, flowers and soft musk on the external parts of their vulva after periods.
Alum was commonly used as a natural deodorant in the Arab world in the past, and some still use it today.
Bidets are also common in the Arab world. In the Anglosphere they're uncommon, but it's easy to get a portable bidet (a small squeezable bottle with a nozzle) online.
We also wash our hands before meals, with a pitcher of water which is passed around the room. In Turkey, they use kolonya, made from fig blossoms, jasmine, rose, or citrus to disinfect their hands. In Morocco, it's common for women to scent their hands with rosewater or orange blossom water after meals.
4) Fragrances, Lotions and Potions: In the Arab world, perfumes are incredible. They're oil-based, so they have excellent projection and longevity. The olfactory notes commonly used in them are beautiful too: delicate rosewater and orange blossom water, exotic oud, sweet amber, vibrant roses and jasmine. In Morocco, gardenia scents are popular, even among men.
Emirati perfumes are the most well known in the West and are super good. Some personal favourites of mine include Oud Mood by Lattafa (Caramel, rose, saffron, and oud), Fatima Pink by Zimaya (Sweet rose that smells like a bit like Turkish delight. it's a dupe of the French Parfums De Marly Delina, however, the actual Delina smells very similar to generic rose oil perfumes you can get in the Arab world to begin with so Zimaya was basically able to dupe it to a T. Their version lasts really long too), Ameerat Al Arab by Lattafa (jasmine, a hint of oud, slightly citrusy. Also the name means "Arabian Princess" in English), Fakhar Rose by Lattafa (sweet, fruity, and very floral) and Yara by Lattafa (floral, amber, vanilla and strawberry). I buy my perfumes from Dubai Perfume Shop in Dublin, but they can be easily found online. Some well-known Arab perfume houses include Lattafa, Al Rehab, Zimaya, Al Qurashi, Amouage, Afnan, Ajmal, Asdaaf, Al Haramain, Armaf, Kayali, Maison Alhambra, and Swiss Arabian, but there are hundreds more.
As well as sprayable perfume, perfume oil is also used. It usually comes in rollerballs or small containers, is inexpensive, and lasts for ages. Like spray perfume, it comes in a huge variety of scents. You can also put it in diffusers or add some to cotton balls and leave in your wardrobe to scent clothes and linens.
Arabs know when to wear perfumes. For example, a rich, sweet, strong oud and vanilla scent will be beautiful in colder weather. But in warm weather, it will become cloying and sickly. Musk, amber and saffron are popular in winter, while rose, orange blossom and jasmine are popular in summer.
In the Arab world, many stalls in the Medina sell gorgeous oils, fragrances and soaps that are inexpensive. For example, the musk I mentioned above. As well as making your home smell incredible, you can also rub it on your body and you'll smell good for days.
Rosewater is commonly used as a toner and to remove makeup. In the town of Skoura, where my great grandparents were from, men even use it to shave with! Orange blossom water is also used in Arab beauty routines in a similar way to rosewater. You can apply either to a bath for extra luxury.
Argan oil is commonly used in Morocco on both skin and hair, as well as the less well-known but just as good prickly pear oil (which is very high in vitamin E). Pure argan oil actually smells mild and not fragrant (similar to olive oil), but for beauty, things like rose oil and menthol are commonly added, so it smells pretty good. Throughout the Middle East and North Africa, jasmine hair oil, castor oil and sweet almond oil (I like putting it in my baths and on my body) are easy to find. Usually Middle Eastern and South Asian shops in the West sell them too.
Honey and almond masks have been used since ancient times, and to this day are still popular. You can buy them basically anywhere. Homemade face masks made from honey and yoghurt or crushed figs and yoghurt are also used.
Aloe Vera is used to treat dry skin, acne, and sunburns. It has a cool and refreshing scent, perfect for the hot climate in many parts of the Arabian world. I like applying it after shaving as it's soothing, natural, and absorbs easily.
Frankincense, a resin used in the Middle East and North Africa for thousands of years, was traditionally used as a natural perfume. It's commonly used in incense. Frankincense oil is also good for the skin.
Bakhour and incense, as well as being used to scent the home, can also be used to scent the hair and clothes. Hold your clothes or hair over a brazier with incense burning inside, and the perfumed smoke will cling on to them.
There are many beautiful scented soaps available in the Arab world. If you go to Turkish or Arab supermarkets, a lot of them will have a section where they sell hygiene products, including soaps with ingredients like argan, rose and oud, and olive oil. I've even found Syrian Aleppo soap before. You can just buy soaps from regular stores in scents like rose, jasmine, honey and almond, orange blossom and sandalwood for achieving that exotic scent though.
As well as using various oils, perfumes, and fragrant beauty treatments, Arab women also know how to layer these different scents to add dimension to them and avoid clashing. For example, a rose perfume over a vanilla lotion will always smell good. Other combinations that are good include almond and vanilla, rose and oud, rose and jasmine, lavender and lemon, rose and orange blossom, and orange blossom and vanilla. But there are many different combinations you can use to achieve a delicious scent that's unique to you.



I hope this was helpful, stay pretty ✨
#law of attraction#becoming that girl#clean girl#it girl#dream girl#girlblogging#dream girl journey#glow up tips#glow up#dream girl tips#dream life#wonyongism#pink pilates girl#pink pilates princess#it girl energy#girly tumblr#just girly things#just girly thoughts#just girly posts#pink blog#hyperfeminine#girly#princess life#princesscore#masterpost#levelling up journey#level up#hypergamy#high maintenance#high value woman
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Hi love!! Can I ask for some fluff with our man when we are still in bed, waking up and just talking about future? Like Levi's dream of owning a tea shop is so cute
i got you xo
window shopping.
pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 880 warnings: 18+ mdni, light oral sex (f!receiving), naked laying in bed, overall fluff and banter, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: divider by @saradika-graphics
"Nice to Mint You."
You're met with deep, disappointed silence.
"Jasmine-d to Meet You."
An unimpressed baritone groan rumbles against your cheek.
"...that really the best you got?"
It takes everything in you not to vibrate from your own amusement, knowing damn well that Levi's eyes must be glued to the back of his head from how hard he's rolling them in exasperation.
With pursed lips, you nuzzle your cheek back into the soft bare expanse of his chest. "...nice to... matcha—"
"Enough."
The dam breaks, and you're left bursting into quiet giggles when his strong hand pulls you closer to his body.
Easily you mold closer, gliding a palm along the flex of his abdomen until your arm has returned to its original place. Your fingers tickle the curve of his torso, barely brushing the white sheets below.
To think the two of you once lived a life where you couldn't spend the twilight hours of the day like this: in a proper bed with proper sheets and pillows; left to talk about nothing, nonsense, until the sun came up and you returned to his shadow.
Lieutenant and Captain.
"What?" you feign innocence, lifting your head to observe the miniscule scowl pinching his eyes to a narrow. "Every tea shop on the surface has a punny name."
"Not if they have a bit of damn self respect, they don't," he mumbles, still idly tracing circles into the flesh of your upper arm.
"I'm wounded."
"I'm sure you are." Caught red-handed in a lie; a grin stretches your mouth, causing his eyes to narrow further. "Brat."
"I'd rather be a brat than boring."
"Oh, yeah?" he challenges, voice still an octave lower from just waking up. "Is that what I am to you? Boring?"
"A real snooze."
You lie again, but you're persuaded otherwise when that hand on your arm snakes between flesh to tickle under your armpit. Immediately you jolt, trying to keep your voice down as you protest in panic.
"No! No, I'm kidding, don't, I'm sorry—"
"Shhh."
Levi pushes forward, landing in a position hovering above you. The arm that was once wrapped around your body now rises so his palm can cradle your face.
"So goddamn loud," he reprimands without heat. "You wanna wake up the rest of the shitheads?"
"As if they don't already know," you protest with a sigh, relaxing once you're certain he isn't about to launch an attack.
"They don't."
"Uh-huh."
For a moment, you stare. Focus, on the way his black fringe messily hangs over his stormy eyes. He's grown out his hair whether he'll admit it or not. You often find yourself wondering that it could look like longer.
"I'm losing you," he states, bringing you back to the present with him. "What's on your mind?"
You blink back into your body and really look into his eyes.
When you once dreamed about coming to the surface, you thought a thunderstorm would best these eyes. You've seen over a dozen storms at this point. None have ever compared.
"The fact that you don't wanna name your tea shop something cute."
"Who said I wanted to own one?"
"As if you wouldn't cream yourself at the idea of getting good, quality leaves to put the rest of the Walls to shame." Your brows slide high on your forehead. "Am I wrong?"
A pause settles.
His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.
"Tch. It's not gonna have a cute name."
"Then what do you wanna name it?"
Lifting your chin, the tip of your nose grazes his.
"Indulge me."
"Fine. Got one."
"Sure."
His legs slide under the thin sheet to hook around yours. You lift your hips and shift with him to accommodate the press of his body.
For the longest time he stares, studying you, before finally mumbling three words.
"...Humanity's Strongest Brew."
He must sense you're about to howl, because his hand leaps off of your cheek to press full against your mouth. And he's right to do it: you nearly betray your location by laughing outright, head tilted back.
"S'funny to you, huh?" he grunts.
"Mmm!"
Trying to speak, to tell him that you're good, you won't alert the neighboring scouts, you wave a hand in his face. His gaze narrows to slits before eventually letting up.
"I swear, James—"
"No!" you interrupt in a whisper, fighting demons to conceal your giggles. "No, it's amazing. I'm serious."
"Fuck off."
"I mean it, Levi! But — shit, if you thought my puns were bad—"
"I'm done talking," he decides, kissing between your breasts. "Gonna make you pay for laughing."
"Wait!"
He makes a point to crawl down your body, kissing a trail of sloppy kisses at the middle of your ribcage to your belly button.
"I promise you, it's a great name."
He answers by grabbing the edge of the sheet and ripping it over his head, disappearing under the fabric.
"Levi—"
When he hooks your left thigh over his shoulder and dives in to bury his face against your center, you gasp sharply and grab the pillow behind your head. He hums against your clit, satisfied by the silence.
"Not laughing so hard now, huh?"
Before you can answer, he dives back in to devour his breakfast.
#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x female reader#levi x reader#levi x you#aot x reader#aot fanfic#snk fanfic#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman fanfic#levi ackerman fic#aot drabble#snk drabble#levi ackerman drabble
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The One That Got Away
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC
Warning(s): Angst, Explicit Sex, Sad Girl Romance, Break-Ups & Reconciliations
Summary: After globetrotting as a digital nomad for three years, Michaela Maxwell returns to her hometown and meets the man of her dreams in a soldier named Terry Richmond. The only problem is, dreams happen when one is asleep to the truth. In Michaela's case, she wakes up to the sad reality that Terry won't really be the happily-ever-after she desires if he cant let go of a past love.
Word Count: 9.5K
youtube
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm gonna tell you 'bout
One of the many men, name is irrelevant, height is irrelevant
He was a one out of a ten, I wish that I knew it then
I'm still recovering
Truly, I'm vulnerable, I love a sentiment
Quickly I opened up, I learned my lesson then
Thought I was safe again, thought he was innocent
I was so wrong"
Raye – "Oscar Winning Tears"
He came back to his place later than she expected.
The Super Bowl had ended hours ago, and instead of hitching a ride back with his cousin, Terry had taken a Lyft. She waited for him in his apartment dressed in a sexy strawberry colored push-up bra and thong set.
Lounging on his bed, she listened to him use his key to get in and his cell rang. He answered, but it was difficult to make out exactly who called him. His voice sounded tired, and he ended the conversation with, "We can talk tomorrow."
He dragged into the bedroom, and his eyebrows rose.
"Surprise," Michaela said.
Her boyfriend of nearly a year stared at her and smiled. But the smile didn't reach all of his face. Especially his eyes. He recovered quickly though, and took off his Eagles football jersey, jeans, and the rest of his clothes. Climbing into the bed next to her, he admired her underwear and rubbed on her booty absentmindedly.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"The Eagle's lost."
"Aw, sorry babes."
"Maybe next year we'll get that ring."
His voice sounded sad, but not because of the football game. She stroked the perfect waves in his hair and kissed his luscious lips. He held her, and his affections turned to nibbling on her ear.
She didn't know it was the beginning of the end.
Michaela Maxwell spent three fruitful years traveling the globe as a digital nomad, creating content for three travel websites while also house-sitting in exotic locations such as Costa Rica, Mallorca, and Belize. By the time she returned to her hometown in Louisiana, she was ready to settle down in a familiar place for at least a year before she was ready to fly the coop again.
Her parents loved this of course, and her mother, a choir director, even got her back to church singing. She found a tiny studio apartment that would allow her to coast financially until she was ready for more travel.
Standing in line at a Starbucks, she fingered the silver compass necklace her father gave her when she first left the country after graduating from college. On the back of the necklace, he had a Henry Miller quote inscribed for her, "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."
She ordered a slice of lemon pound cake and a matcha green-tea latte, and when she tapped her phone against the scanner to pay, the app didn't work. Trying again and failing, her jaw tightened. She had no cash or cards because she hadn't taken a purse with her when she went out to jog that morning. Now she was holding up the line.
A large hand reached forward, holding a debit card toward the cashier.
"I got it," a deep tone said.
Michaela glanced at the face attached to the hand and let out a breath.
The sexiest-looking man she had ever seen in the states for a long time stared back at her with a grin. He wore military fatigues and had the lightest eyes whose color she couldn't discern in the light. They could've been green, or gray…maybe even blue if she squinted.
"I left my house without my purse," she said.
It was obvious from her skin-tight mint-blue jogging outfit and smartphone in hand that she had nothing else to pay with.
"If you hang here for a minute, I can get you the money."
"Don't worry about it. Pay for someone else next time," he said.
"Thanks a lot."
Michaela moved down to the waiting area for her items and watched the stranger order strong coffee and a danish.
That's how she met Terry Richmond.
On a clear spring morning, with her long hair freshly cornrowed in six braids down her back and decorated with six huge silver hoops, she left Starbucks with a smile on her face, thrilled there were some good-looking men in town.
It was only six degrees of separation, meeting him again at a barbecue. Her close friend Sandra dated a guy named Mike, who was Terry's cousin.
"Matcha green-tea latte," he said, showing her pearly whites near a food table where guests piled on fried fish and pork ribs.
They only spoke to each other the entire time and exchanged numbers when the sun went down. For the first month, it felt like a whirlwind of dates getting to know each other.
As a marine stationed nearby, he trained soldiers in specialized martial arts and other combat techniques. It afforded him the ability to stay close to his family. Their dates consisted of nice dinners, movies that she wanted to see, and long romantic drives in the country. He was smart, attentive, and a skilled conversationalist. Fascinated with her travels, he spent hours listening to her talk about rainforests in Central America, parasailing in the Caribbean, and nightlife in Spain.
In their second month of dating, he found a new luxury apartment to move into, and Michaela helped him pick out furniture and decorated it with an international flourish. Their friend groups began to overlap, and that's when Michaela suspected him of getting more serious about their relationship. His male buddies adored her, often insisting that she join them on their male outings to bars to watch sports, and to go fishing on a boat one of them owned.
There came a time when she spent more hours in the day at Terry's place than her own studio apartment. He dropped hints of being open to moving in together. Even gave her shelf space in his bathroom cabinet. The apartment had two bedrooms, and he offered the unused one as her temporary office to work on her new venture as a house sitting expert. It was his way of keeping her close to him without rushing her.
His place had a pool, state-of-the-art gym, and a nature walk trail perfect for early morning jogs. Michaela only wanted to date and have fun with Terry. Nothing too serious. She had more traveling to do and different parts of the world to see still. The pressure of a serious relationship was too heavy to pick up at that point in her life.
By then, they started sleeping together regularly, at least three times a week.
The first time they made love, a company had just delivered Terry's brand-new bed, and she had bought him designer sheets as a housewarming gift. They were oyster-blue with an outrageous thread-count that made them buttery soft. She helped him make the king-size bed up with a new blanket and goose-down pillows. They both jumped on the bed and marveled at how comfortable it was. That's when he turned to look at her. Her hair cascaded across her arm and he stroked it like it was expensive silk.
"You are so beautiful, Michaela. What would I do without you in my life?"
Her heart did a happy dance in her chest, and he leaned over and kissed her lips. He undressed her with his eyes first, and her body went limp from the searing gaze of lust that drenched her skin with desire. Terry dragged his index finger up her arm and she would've sworn on a bible that her flesh burst into flames the way he sparked her nerve endings. To have him look at her that way again for the first time!
They'd fooled around before.
Long, slow kisses for hours. Heavy petting. Jerking him off in his two-year-old Honda Civic. Going all the way was inevitable after their first month of sexual touching. They came close once at her place while watching a basketball game. She sat next to him on her couch in a pair of stretchy shorts and he fingered her slowly during commercial breaks, edging her until she nearly peed on herself. Her swollen labia melted under his fingertips and by the time he inserted his digits, moving them slowly in and out, she had tears in her eyes. She turned into a soggy noodle pressed into him. His fingers rubbed on her clit in gentle circles, bringing her orgasm to a raging explosion that had her entire frame throbbing in release. She scooted out of her shorts and panties, only to be disappointed that he didn't have condoms on him. Mentally kicking herself for not re-upping her personal stock after her Gulliver's Travels gallivanting the world, Michaela had to settle for him eating her pussy on the couch, her legs casually thrown over his shoulders and those seductive green eyes daring her to cum in his mouth and all over his lips. She rolled over and tooted her ass out, and Terry licked everything from behind, glossing his full lips until she came again, screaming into the couch cushion.
Their first time was magical in his bed.
"Why are you so wet?" he whispered in her ear.
He lowered his face to her breasts and sucked each nipple until they became perfect pebbles for his tongue to titillate further. His pretty caramel skin looked like a creamy topping against her cherry-brown color.
Returning home had taken an adjustment she hadn't expected, and having Terry in her life smoothed the tensions of small-time life. She'd outgrown her place of birth. He allowed her to tolerate it. Living outside of America showed her its obvious deficits, and Terry reminded her of the good things it still had available…like family.
Michaela grew closer to her parents, especially her father, and re-connecting with childhood friends grounded her to familial life. Singing solo gospel songs in church also brought her back to a spiritual side she'd neglected since leaving home. She started thinking about her future away from traveling, and Terry gave her other fleeting thoughts, too. Like what having companionship with one partner would be like over a length of time in one place. Michaela wasn't itching to settle down, but life handed her the man of her dreams, and it was hard to view Terry as anything less than the best boyfriend she'd ever had.
He still had four years to go before he could leave his military contract, and Michaela imagined taking him to all the places she shared with him through stories and pictures. The hard part of waiting was watching the growth of her business. She wanted to put together two conferences, one in Costa Rica and the other in Spain. That meant time away from Terry to plan and execute. She started getting calls from a travel collective in the U.K. that asked her to be a keynote speaker at a digital nomad event at the end of the year. More time away from Terry.
His kisses strayed down her neck, and she sighed.
"So wet…" he murmured, licking the hollow of her belly button and trailing down between her thighs.
He catered to her clit like it was a queen on her little throne. For what seemed like a teasingly long time, Terry ate her out until her legs shook and she whimpered, "I want more."
She rubbed on his hair, and he left her side to dig his hand inside his nightstand. The gold foil condom ripped easily. He rolled the prophylactic down his girth, pinching the top. She widened her thighs, and he nestled against them, his tip resting at her slick entrance. He kissed her while pushing inside, and they locked eyes. The intensity of their gazes brought forth laughter from both of them, and as he moved in and out, they laughed again at the joy of finally connecting through intercourse.
His dick stretched her out until her eyes wanted to cross. She arched her back to feel the muscles in his chest pressed against her breasts. Her nipples brushed against him, and he moaned at their softness. He lifted her right leg and sank in deeper. The slapping of their bodies created delightful sounds in the bedroom. Her pants and his deep groans in her ear took it to a new level of pleasure. There was no need to switch positions or try any tricks to impress each other. Their joining was enough, and her vaginal walls squeezed him unexpectedly, thrilling even her at the loss of control she experienced under him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting him closer, yearning to keep him next to her like that for hours and hours.
"Shit," he groaned.
His hips pistoned, and the bed thumped under her. The headboard hadn't started smacking the wall yet, but it was close.
"Michaela…fuck…baby…"
He pushed her thighs back, his eyes glued to the sight of his dick taking her down thrust by thrust.
Their foreheads touched. He jammed his fists on the bed, giving her the fucking she deserved. She'd had lovers in every place she stayed overseas, but coming home to a southern man that shared the same culture was exquisite. Caressing his biceps, Michaela submitted to the synergy they created.
"You're beautiful. Look at you Michaela…making me feel so good."
If he talked her all the way through her orgasm, she wasn't aware of it. All she could concentrate on was his Siren eyes boring into her and the fullness of his dick taking her to greater heights physically. Her lips puckered and then she let out a cry as her walls clenched in rapid throbs around him.
"Ohhhhhh!" she shouted.
That's all it took for him to join her. She felt him pulsing inside of her. His body seized up and a loud groan roared out of him. He slammed a hand on the headboard and cursed above her face before grunting and crashing down on her.
She giggled, and he laughed out loud, his deep voice resonating around her like a cape of tenderness in their intimate moment.
Michaela had hoped to experience that type of lovemaking again after the Super Bowl game.
The day of the game she had an online panel to attend for her business coaching Black women to house sit around the world. She missed the Super Bowl game at his friend's house, but promised Terry she'd be at his place afterward to have a little party of their own. He didn't have to go to work the next day, and they planned to brunch and shop for a camping tent.
She pulled out her fancy underwear, plucked and shaved hair from her legs and private area, and prepared to put some sugar on his dick. It was supposed to be an unforgettable night in her mind.
Once he climbed into bed with her, she sensed a change in him.
Terry went through the motions of lovemaking.
It felt good, and she came hard on his dick with his fingers gently touching her clit. However, the passion wasn't at its zenith, as if his mind were elsewhere and not with her.
He fucked her from behind with long strokes, and after he came, he tied off the condom and kissed her forehead. Leaving the bed soaked in sweat, he took a long shower and she tucked the sheets under her chin and tried to fathom what had brought him to a place of disconnect.
They went to brunch at their favorite restaurant, and he picked at his food. Once they bought the tent he wanted, chats of planning a camping trip went by the wayside as he complained of a headache and went to bed to sleep off his unease.
She left his apartment and visited a girlfriend to not waste the rest of the day. Her schedule and his job kept them busy for two days. Until Terry called her to come back to his place before the weekend.
"I need to talk to you about something," he said.
She sat down on his couch, and he paced in front of her. Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for him to speak. He finally sat down next to her.
"My ex was at the Super Bowl party last Sunday," he said.
"Your ex…Eve?"
Michaela tilted her head with her lips already in a defensive pout. He dated Eve two years previously and broke up with her for reasons he never explained. It wasn't her business, so Michaela didn't care. They were getting to know each other, and she'd spoken about her past lovers, too. No big deal.
His eyes were shinier than normal, and her stomach bunched up in a single knot, already knowing the ending before he even foretold it.
"Yeah…it's been a long time since I've seen her…and we talked and …"
He couldn't keep eye contact and flexed the fingers of his right hand nervously. It scared her.
"And? Did you sleep with her or something? Is that why you came home in a Lyft instead of being dropped off by Allen?"
"No. I wouldn't do anything like that. We talked…the entire night."
"All night where?"
"At Dex's."
"Until one in the morning?"
"We weren't alone. Mike was there…a bunch of people stayed to hang out after the game. She and I talked outside in the yard."
"Okay…talked about what?"
Her voice sounded sharp, like broken glass. His eyes kept darting away from looking at her face.
"How we were both doing now. I didn't have to say anything about this, Michaela. I'm telling you because I trust you…I can confide in you about anything on my mind. I've done the same for you. I want to talk about this because it's bothered me all week…seeing her again. All kinds of emotions came back up that I wasn't prepared to deal with. It was the same for her, too. It's been two years and seeing her hurt me…"
He started leaking tears from the corners of his eyes, and Michaela couldn't move or say anything. The man she'd been dating for eight and a half months shed tears for another woman that he left behind.
He wiped his face and sat back on the couch. His eyes still captured her with their intense color. She exhaled and the pain in her stomach grew. Her voice came out shaky and unsure.
"Seeing her hurt you? Why? People run into their exes occasionally. You dumped her, so you weren't happy."
He nodded. His lips parted, and he wiped his face again.
"I wasn't happy. But I cared for her. Leaving wasn't easy for me…I didn't try harder to fix things between us. We weren't getting along and I ended it. That's it. I didn't know I would react this way after seeing her again. I needed to tell you so you'd understand why I've been so distant the past few days."
"Okay. I can understand that."
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Before she could entwine their fingers together, he pulled away and closed his eyes. Eve really had him shaken up.
Michaela stroked his hair, and he stared at the ceiling, relaxing into her touches. More tears ran down his face like silent assassins to her heart.
"She told me she still loves me…misses me."
"What did you say to her?"
"I didn't say anything…I was surprised that she said that."
He finally looked at her. The tears on his face spoke for him.
Michaela bit her bottom lip and fought back the welling of water behind her eyes.
"You still love her?"
"I don't know what I feel…I'm conflicted."
"Conflicted about what? Do you want her back?"
"I don't know what I want."
"Terry, we've been dating for damn near nine months. I'm your girlfriend!"
"And I'm your boyfriend telling you what's on my heart and mind. I talked to my ex, and it affected me. I didn't sleep with her and we had no physical contact, if that's what you're really worried about."
"Yeah? Well, she got to you emotionally, and that feels like the same thing to me right now."
"I came home and made love to you, Michaela. If I wanted to fuck Eve, I could've done that and not said anything if I had that type of dog energy in me."
"Thank you for small favors, asshole!"
Michaela jumped up and grabbed her purse.
Terry tugged on her jacket sleeve and pulled her back toward him.
"Where are you going? I'm sitting here being honest with you about my feelings."
"Basically telling me I was a placeholder this whole time."
"We're having fun and enjoying each other. That's what you wanted, and that's what I want. I thought I could tell you everything going on with me, but clearly that was a mistake."
"Am I lacking something, Terry? Is that why you're so discombobulated with a woman that didn't make you happy?"
"You're perfect."
"Am I?"
"Michaela…please."
"So what now? Do we keep seeing each other or…?"
He stood once he noticed her eyes spilling tears of frustration.
"Michaela, I didn't tell you this to hurt you. I'm confused by all of this inner turmoil. I shouldn't be feeling like this, but I am. Can't help it."
"I don't want to be confused with you."
Terry hugged her and it felt icky. Like he was giving her a consolation hug as the loser. Instead of coming back to her on time, he stayed behind to talk with a woman who didn't see a future with him two years ago.
"Were you thinking about her while you were fucking me last Sunday?"
"Michaela, stop."
She pushed away from him. They faced each other with teary eyes and trembling limbs.
"Where does this go with us? Am I supposed to be with you while you sort out your feelings? Have you spoken to her since then?"
"We talked last night. Briefly. Less than five minutes. She told me it was good seeing me and hoped we could be friends again."
"Are you going to see her again?"
The sight of him blurred in her wet eyes. Her tears fell faster, and her mind couldn't process how to move forward.
"I made a mistake telling you."
"Terry…I'm glad you told me. It's a reality check. But I'm not a third wheel."
She expected him to protest and hug her again. If he had done that, she could've coped and pivoted to another way of handling her emotions.
But he didn't do that.
He stood there silently, his glossy eyes staring into a future without her by his side. The truth was so fucking obvious. Seeing Eve brought on regret for him. He never wanted to leave her.
In that moment, Michaela knew the pain flowing through her was because she loved him. She never said it out loud to him. She'd never been one of those women who fell in love easily. It was a slow trek for her to establish trust and intimacy, and she'd reached that stage with him when it was too late. The sting of losing his full, undivided attention to unfinished relationship baggage hurt. She'd lost him the moment he shared his truth.
"Maybe it's best that we postpone the camping trip this weekend. I have a lot on my mind, and you're busy getting your business up and running," he said.
"So you see your ex, talk to her again, and now our trip is cancelled?"
"Postponed. Not cancelled."
"Why?"
"I told you…I have a lot on my mind, and work is stressing me."
"A trip away is the best thing for stress. Tell me the truth, Terry. You want to think about her without me all up in your face—"
"I'm simply asking for space to think by myself without having to go anywhere or do anything."
"Think about what?! Either you want to be with me or her. Simple!"
He winced at her tone. Those beautiful eyes narrowed with irritation at the sound.
Michaela crumbled on the inside, but she kept her poise on the outside.
"Fuck you," she said.
She pulled his house key off her key ring and tossed it on the couch.
She didn't speak to Terry, nor seem him, for a month.
All of her social media blocked any contact dealing with him. She dropped him like a hot potato and kept it moving. No sense waiting around for him to give her a sad break-up chat of 'It's me, not you'.
His friends reached out, wanting to check on her and wondering why she wasn't around anymore. Terry's best friend Dex even drove over to see her, and she joined him for a coffee chat at the neighborhood Starbuck's, where she first met Terry.
She pumped Dex for information about Eve.
"They were engaged two years ago, and he broke it off."
"Engaged? He never told me that."
"He was embarrassed about it. His family spent a lot of money on their engagement party. Booked them an entire Paris honeymoon in advance. When he ended the relationship, they lost a shitload of money that he paid back."
Dex sipped on a berry refresher drink, his handsome looks attracting attention from bystanders in the coffee shop.
"Why did he leave her?"
"He told me she was immature. Narcissistic. He saw some other things he didn't like after her bridal shower that gave him doubts about them lasting as man and wife. I told him to break it off waaayyyy before he asked her to marry him, but he said he was in love and hoped she'd change."
"I guess she finally changed if he needed to talk to her all night after your party."
"I don't think she's changed at all. In fact, I suspect she only came around because of you."
"Me?"
Dex glanced about and leaned forward in his seat.
"Do you look at his social media? It's just photos of you two and him cheesing like he's won an Oscar for having the coolest girlfriend. Shit, I thought he was going to ask you to be his wife the way he bragged about you to us."
Michaela fiddled with the straw in her iced raspberry tea.
"I don't believe that."
"Eve sure did, because she swooped in on my party as a plus one. She loved him back then, of course, but why show up out the blue now? She saw those happy pictures and all thirty-two of his teeth grinning and didn't like it."
"She can have him because I don't care anymore."
Dex smirked.
"Do you love him?"
She closed her eyes. The first prick of tears spilled out.
"Aw, Michaela…talk to him. Let him know how you feel. He probably thinks you aren't serious about him because you didn't stay and fight for your shit."
"I shouldn't have to fight for him if I was already his."
She wiped the corners of her eyes with a napkin.
"That's not what I meant," Dex said. "Terry likes direct feedback. If you never told him you loved him, he's thinking you just want to keep the relationship casual. Exclusive for sure…but y'know…chill with no pressure."
"He never told me he loved me."
"Perhaps he was going off your vibes. The last woman he said 'I love you' to broke his heart. I'm not trying to make excuses for him, but he's been gun-shy with women. You're the first one he's brought out in two years. That makes you special. I know he showed you how he felt without saying it. If you tell him out loud, he'll snap to attention."
"He should've done it first. I don't want to look like I'm crawling back begging…"
Dex's cell rang on the table. He answered.
"Hey, speak of the devil. What's up, man? I'm chillin'…actually I'm sitting here with Michaela chatting at Starbuck's."
"Bastard!" she hissed.
"Alright, man," Dex said.
He tapped his phone.
"He's down the street and coming over to see you. Now's your chance to tell him how you feel."
Michaela jumped from her seat and cursed him under her breath.
"Being with him should've been enough for him to know. It goes both ways," she said.
"Okay, so you both fucked up by being quiet about the love part."
"Bye Dex."
Michaela shuffled out of the door, fumbling with her purse and jacket. Outside, she rushed down the street, only to see Terry strolling her way. She did a one-eighty in her stride and stomped away in the opposite direction.
"Michaela!"
He called out to her and dashed down the sidewalk to catch up to her. Her building was another block over.
"Wait up…I just want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk, Terry. You should've come home to me, but you still wanted her. Dex told me you were going to marry her—"
"I was—"
"I don't like mess. I don't like exes showing up to throw a wrench in my relationship with you. I don't like that you never told me you loved me—"
"Can we talk inside?"
Seeing him rattled her. His gorgeous face had lines on his forehead from the stress of their uncoupling. Those green eyes threatened to weaken her if she didn't stay strong. The hurting in her chest never went away.
"Are you still talking to Eve?"
"Not really."
"Not really? Either you're talking or you're not."
"We've spoken a few times since you left me."
"Then there's nothing for us to discuss. You made a choice."
"I haven't done anything other than try to figure out why you can't…why you can't…."
"What? Spit it out, for God's sake!"
"I never thought you were this selfish, Michaela. You pretend to be this sophisticated world traveler and you can't even give me space to sort out my shit. I was this close to marrying someone I deeply loved, and it messed me up for a long time to let that relationship go. I beat myself up, wondering why I didn't communicate my unhappiness or frustrations to her sooner, and I promised myself that the next woman I got involved with would never have that problem. But you closed yourself off from me. My honesty hurt you. I can't change that. Running from me isn't going to fix us."
"What was there to fix, Terry?! We were doing fine until she showed up. There's no us if you keep talking to that woman."
"Why are you so threatened by her?"
"If you can't see why, I can't help you."
She pushed past him and headed for her secure building. His footsteps trailed after her. She ran inside her lobby after punching in the code. The heavy glass door slammed in Terry's face.
"Michaela, I did love you…I'm sorry I never said it…I love you…please. Talk to me."
"Go talk to Eve!"
His voice faded as she climbed the stairs to her studio.
Michaela co-chaired a conference in Costa Rica and rekindled her love of travel. A year after leaving Terry, she stayed busy expanding her venture as a self-employed entrepreneur. She found a luxury villa to house-sit for three months back in Mallorca and would use that time as a vacation and a chance to plot her next move.
First, she had to go home to see her parents for a week.
Winters in Louisiana were harsh, and she couldn't wait to get back to the Mediterranean climate she loved.
Sitting in her parent's cluttered dining room, she ate jambalaya, fried chicken steak, and cabbage croquets. She caught up with cousins and siblings and soaked up as much of Louisiana as she could.
She also had an obligation to go to church.
"I need you to cover for Marcus on Friday," her mother said.
"Friday? What's going on Friday?"
"A memorial service for one of our deacons in the church. Deacon Tolliver."
"What song?"
Her mother, Iris, marked a line under a note in her music book on the stand in front of their church's pulpit. The entire Baptist choir of eighty singers took a break to catch their breath.
"'Praise Him in Advance'. Marcus has a sore throat, and I know you got it down front to back. Can you help me with it, baby?"
"Sure."
Michaela took her place at the soloist mic and went through the song twice. It was a regular part of her mother's repertoire, so it wasn't a big deal practicing. Her tone of voice was just as good as Marcus' singing it.
After she finished, she stepped back into the choir pews and played her part with all the altos.
Her mind wandered as her mother's arms waved and dipped, guiding the rich voices.
Word on the street, according to her bestie Sandra — who still dated Mike—Terry went back to Eve about four months after Michaela left town. After hearing that, she made Sandra promise not to tell her anything about that man. He clearly chose who he really wanted, and she'd been correct in feeling like a rebound. Those tears he shed gave the performance of his life, and she was smart not to fall for it.
It tore her up inside knowing Eve was getting good dick, passion, and excitement all wrapped up in a Terry package. No more light-skinned niggas for her. Every single one she ever dated was a problem, and if they were pretty? Forget about it. She should've smacked the shit out of him when she had the chance. The saddest part for her was cutting off all contact with Terry's buddies. She genuinely liked them all. The man had an amazing circle of friends.
Sandra texted her about going out to a movie, and she accepted, only to find out it was a set-up with a co-worker of hers. It pissed her off to be ambushed that way, but Michaela sat through the "Wicked" musical because the man was cute. It became a no-go when he knew all the songs and sang them at the top of his lungs. A fucking theater kid…with great pipes, though.
The day of the memorial, she packed her suitcases with freshly washed clothes to be prepped for an early morning flight to Atlanta. She had a few more friends to see before she left the country again.
Dressed in a stylish indigo dress and her best heels, Michaela fluffed out her hair. She opted to tie it up high to give herself a little oomph. She switched out her hoop earrings for diamond studs and smoothed a fresh tube of bronze lipstick across her lips.
Riding over in her parent's car to church, she received an urgent text message from Sandra.
Michaela threw her phone back inside her purse. She pulled it back out, curious to know how Terry looked after all. Sandra wouldn't have to know she was peeking.
No.
Fuck him still.
But…
She scrolled the old people's social media. Facebook. Hopping onto Mike's page, she checked out his recent photos and found a group one posted six months after she left. Her heart fluttered seeing Terry in a fishing trip photo. He wasn't smiling with teeth, but held a crooked grin. Next to him, with her name tagged, was Eve.
Michaela enlarged the photo.
"She's not even all that cute," she grumbled.
"You say something, baby?" Iris said from the front seat.
"Talking to myself, Momma."
Eve was bottom heavy in her shorts and wore too much make-up for a fishing trip in the raging sun. Her twist out hair looked nice. She was nearly the same skin-tone as Michaela with a wide, flat face that reminded her of bread dough ran over twice with a rolling pin.
She wondered what went wrong this time. That thought paused her. What difference did it make?
It must have meant something because she thought about Terry while walking into the church, which someone had decorated with bright blue and white flowers. This wasn't a funeral, but a celebration of life. The sanctuary pews were slowly filling up, and Michaela followed her mother and the rest of the choir through a side hallway. They weren't wearing choir robes because the family requested they all don Deacon Tolliver's favorite color. All shades of blue surrounded Michaela. They looked like a pretty winter bouquet.
Her purse vibrated. She ignored Sandra's new message and silenced her phone with a quick swipe of her finger and hung up her coat. Pastor Greene looked out upon the flock and began speaking words of comfort as the choir waited to begin their processional from the side wing.
Would it hurt to see him? It had been a little over a year since she had flounced away from him. He could see how fabulous she looked and hopefully he'd regret losing her this time.
Michaela strode in from her position on the line and sang an upbeat song with the choir to stir up the congregation with feelings of joy and not sadness. Deacon Tolliver's family walked in as a large group down the aisle to take their seats in the front.
Michaela nearly fell over.
Terry walked solemnly behind the elderly Tolliver relatives dressed in a dark blue suit and tie. Ushers led them to their reserved rows, and he sat down next to some older women. He looked at the memorial program in his hand and glanced up to take in the flower arrangements and the size of the choir.
Michaela ducked her head down, hoping he wouldn't notice her. He didn't. The sopranos partially hid her on the side. The sea of blue helped camouflage her, along with holding the program directly in front of her face.
The pastor read a short scripture and then asked for the congregation to bow their heads in prayer. Michaela thought she could coast through the first half of the memorial, but the closer it got toward the choir singing again after heartfelt speeches from Deacon Tolliver's close friends, her stomach twisted in discomfort. She read the memorial program for the ninety-six-year-old deacon and learned that Terry was a great-grand nephew.
Her mother rose from her seat and stationed herself in front. Terry stared at Iris, and his expression changed from sadness to awareness. Those captivating eyes searched over each face in the choir until they rested on Michaela's as she stepped forward to sing for his great-grand uncle.
She prayed her throat wouldn't close up. The organ player tapped out the keys and the drummer gave a rousing introduction to her vocals. Michaela focused on Deacon Tolliver's widow and the memories of her husband's good work in the church. She had a job to uplift the family, even if one of them was her ex boyfriend.
"I've had my share of ups and downs…times when there was no one around…God came and spoke these words to me…praise will confuse the enemy…"
Deacon Tolliver's widow shouted "Amen!" and the choir brought up the rear, repeating what she sang in a powerful, harmonious sound that brought people to their feet.
Michaela relaxed into her vocal performance, letting the lyrics build up on their own, not doing too much as she led the call and response with the choir, her runs clean and touching hearts in the audience. She used her fingers to point on certain words at the family that held meaning to Deacon Tolliver when he was alive.
"That's when I praise him with my hands…"
Michaela hummed at the end of the line and raised her hands up, her eyes cast toward the stain-glassed depiction of a Black Jesus with his flock of sheep. As a child, Deacon Tolliver told her that Jesus was a rock she could depend on whenever she felt lost. He told her the same thing four years ago before she left Louisiana. She could almost feel his hand on her shoulder like back then, reassuring her about the path she was on. Funny how she ended up falling in love with his great-grand nephew.
Her eyes flicked over to Terry. He stood clapping his hands double time with the choir as she went up a notch to celebrate a good man who supported her call to adventure, even when her parents were worried about it. Hands were up in the audience and she heard shouts as the spirit came down on several people.
She brought the sound down softly and sang to the congregation like she was preaching the word and not just singing. Stepping down from the stage, she approached Mrs. Tolliver's frail form and held her hand, keeping her voice soft.
"Praise him, when things are good…praise him…trouble on every side…and when I'm broke…I will praise him…"
Mrs. Tolliver squeezed her hand and said, "Yes, God…praise him."
Michaela went down the family line to give the message of comfort, and the palpable feeling of love enveloped her. Faced with Terry up close, and knowing this would be the last time she would ever see him, she smiled and gave him some joyful notes that volleyed back and forth with the choir. His lips trembled, and he held steadfast, listening to her sing life into him and his family. She made her way back to the stage and put the cordless mic back on its stand, taking final direction from her mother as the band went off, creating a musical frenzy getting everybody charged up with emotion.
Back at her seat, she breathed in deeply, thankful that she got through the song and seeing Terry at the same time without bursting into tears.
"Nah, nah, Sister Michaela, come back, come back," the pastor said. "One mo' 'gin! I don't think they heard you!"
The band struck up the music again. The choir led her this time for another stirring reprise. Her voice soared over the church and even her momma jumped up and down, shouting. The entire church double clapped as she did a run of "ohs" that ended with a crescendo from the choir. Michaela felt touched by a higher power then, and shook her fists, feeling the spirit move through her. The choir connected her to the only thing that mattered in that moment: to love and be loved in return among her community. She shook her head, rooted to the floor, and another choir member helped her find her seat.
Iris led them through some classic gospel songs and threw in a few newer ones. Michaela sang and snuck glances at Terry who did the same. He pulled back his lips and gave her a smile that reached his eyes, and she did the same back at him.
The memorial ended, and the congregation headed over to the church-owned building next door where the repast was to be held. The food was buffet-style, and Michaela made herself a plate and sat with some church friends. Terry sat with his family on the other side of the room and she relaxed to eat and drink punch.
Eventually she mingled, sharing stories of getting in trouble at vacation bible school and Deacon Tolliver setting her straight.
"Michaela."
It was unavoidable.
Michaela inhaled and turned to look at Terry. His suit was perfectly tailored to his physique. His soulful gaze took her breath away again, and it was like being at Starbuck's that first time, hearing the robust sound of his voice. Her cheeks rose, lifted by the smile she tried to pull off, but she couldn't do it. Regret washed over her like a heat flash and her face grew warm. She didn't fight for him like she should've. She didn't support him with his jumbled feelings. Running off to Costa Rica had been her answer because she didn't want to hear him say he didn't want her anymore. Fear of abandonment caused her to react in a way that didn't help them overcome an obstacle.
"Sorry for your loss," she sputtered.
"Thank you. I'm sorry for a lot of things, too," he said.
Her eyes watered, but the tears held in place. He sensed the battle within to hold it together and looked around to see who could hear them. She blinked several times to clear her eyes. He'd led her to the punchbowl. Handing her a cup of punch, he sighed and moved closer to her so their conversation wouldn't be overheard.
Her heart thumped rapidly, being next to him, and her hands sweated. She wiped them against the cup of punch.
"Can we go outside? It's kinda loud in here," he said.
"Sure."
She pulled on her coat and grabbed her small purse to follow him out a side door. He held out a key fob. Tapping it, a maroon SUV chirped, and he opened a back door for her to get out of the cold.
They sat in the far back seats of the seven passenger vehicle. He tapped the fob again, and the engine came on, blasting much needed heat in the interior. Tinted windows prevented anyone from seeing directly inside. She took off her coat after the temperature grew comfortable.
"You look great," he said.
"You too."
"You sang like an angel. Uncle Bo would've loved it."
"Oh, he's heard me sing before. I didn't even know you were related to the Tollivers."
"On my father's side."
His eyes never wavered. There was a softness behind them that matched the tone of his voice. God had really broken the mold when he made Terry.
He glanced down at his hand near hers.
"I wasn't careful with your heart, Michaela. I'll never forgive myself for that. I loved you…still love you. When you left town, I thought you did what you needed to do. I dealt with that pain, even when you refused to accept my calls or attempts to contact you."
"Why did you go back to her?"
"You left, and she…gave me what I thought was a second chance. I couldn't get you back. You were worried about being a rebound, and that's what Eve became to me. She didn't feel right at all…nothing about her was different. We went out a few times to test the waters. Tried to be friends instead. Dex told me I was stupid for doubting myself about her motives for coming back into my life. The moment she learned you left the country, she turned right back into her vindictive, jealous self. I let her fool me into thinking I'd made a mistake about getting away from her. She played me. I paid a heavy price for it by losing you. I'm sorry for not listening or taking your apprehensions about it seriously. You loved me and I didn't…I lost the plot of us, Michaela. That's all my fault for thinking I knew better."
"I was scared. I met someone truly special, and I held you away from me because I didn't know if you felt as deeply as I did. I've been burned in the past enough times to be cautious," she said.
"Where does this leave us now?"
"I'm going back to Spain in two days. I won't return to the states for a while."
He nodded and glanced away from her face.
"I guess there's nothing more to say. We missed our chance."
The defeat in his voice broke her inside.
"Terry, I loved everything about you—"
He smothered her lips with his.
His hands cradled her face. The reunion of his mouth against hers made her swoon. She parted his lips with her tongue and he took advantage of the opening and swept his tongue around hers. Their passion for each other never left. It pleased her that Eve turned out to be exactly as Dex predicted. That woman didn't want anyone to claim Terry after her, and only popped out to sow confusion in him, knowing how vulnerable he'd been to end their engagement. He figured out her charade and dumped her again, making her a two-time loser. She also relished that Terry got what he deserved on a purely petty level. That flat-faced ex showed him for all time that he never should've considered her as anything less than a dodged bullet. But at what cost?
Their kissing aroused her.
Her panties dampened, and Terry started moaning into her mouth. She ran a hand down his chest and brushed her fingers across the bulge in his pants. So stiff.
He cupped a breast and squeezed, then groped a nipple, pinching it through her dress and bralette. She came undone by looking deeply into his eyes. Love stared back at her. Regret, too.
She gave him love with her mouth, sliding her tongue against his with slow, succulent kissing. Rubbing on his dick through his pants had him panting her name. He lifted her dress, and she helped him pull down her pantyhose. She kicked off her heels, knowing she had to have him. He unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxer briefs.
She climbed on top of him as he held his erection up for her to slide down. Her pussy swallowed his dick easily, and they both sighed loudly when she reached the bottom with her ass resting on his balls. They kissed again and Michaela bounced on his dick, her slickness pleasing him.
She clung to his neck, pressing her cheek to his and pounded on that thickness, making a wet mess in his lap. He grunted and held onto her ass cheeks. Unprotected sex was something they never indulged in, but there was always an exception to that rule for a desire that overpowered them both. A final fuck was very necessary.
"Fuck me…fuck me…fuck me…raise up, raise up…now drop it back down hard on that dick…yes! Just like that, Michaela…fuck me, baby. Fuck that dick…fuck it…fuck me…shit…that's your dick…."
The throaty moans into her neck heightened her pleasure to the extreme. His voice sounded deeper than it ever did, and it serenaded her grinding into him fast and furious. Her clit rubbed against his shaft and electrified her walls, sending tiny spasms of pre-orgasmic release. She reached behind and squeezed his balls.
"You're trying to make me nut all in this pussy. Aren't you?" he choked out.
"Yes!"
He moaned, helpless to stop himself.
"I'm 'bout to give you the biggest nut…fuck, Michaela…why you do this to me now?"
He whimpered as she went stupid on his dick. All he could do was hold on to her plump ass cheeks and go along for the ride. They both had nothing to lose. Their foreheads touched, and desperate breathy pants sent warm air across their lips.
"Take this thick creamy nut, girl. I'm gonna fill you up… right now…oh shit! I'm cumming…I'm cumming…..!"
Terry's body bucked, and he held her so tight against him. She couldn't breathe. She felt the swelling of his dick and the quick pulses as he eagerly spurt a hot nut inside of her. His erratic panting and the pressure of him squeezing her tight compelled her to let go. Her eyes rolled back as her pussy clenched like it would never let his dick go.
"Terry…oh, God!" she cried out.
"Damn…Michaela…you fucked the shit out of me!"
They laughed.
Their voices bubbled up, a shared release like the old days together. Except this time, his warm cum flooded her pussy.
"We're going to look a mess going back inside," she grumbled.
"I don't care," he huffed into her hair.
She leaned back and his eyes held more desire for her. The feline quality in them brought shivers, and she had to look away from the intensity. He kissed her, and she gave in again, allowing their tongues to make a pact she knew they couldn't keep. Not anymore.
When her legs started cramping, she lifted off of his dick and lap, falling back into the seat. Cum pooled out of her, wetting her inner thighs.
She pulled up her underwear and pantyhose. Slipped on her heels. He fastened up his pants, and they looked at one another with longing. Outside of the SUV, he helped her put on her coat. She closed it up tight and cinched it with the belt.
They returned to the repast. She hoped God and the church couldn't smell the sex on her. Now and then, she glanced over at Terry and they burst out laughing, unable to hide the awkwardness of being together like that in a church parking lot. She became bashful whenever their eyes met, his thick lashes so seductive with his eyebrow arched, watching her move around the space.
When her parents said their goodbyes to the Tolliver family as the repast wound down, she and Terry bid farewell with silent eye contact. She rushed out behind her mother, feeling a hitch in her chest and a lump growing in her throat.
The summer sun in Mallorca did wonders for Michaela's rich skin color.

She wore long slinky dresses and drank chilled gazpacho by the pool in the small villa she tended for a British family who went to Australia for a long winter holiday.
Peace and tranquility spoiled her. Part of her house sitting duties were caring for two rowdy Ibizan hounds that snoozed at the foot of her pool lounge chair, the heat wearing them out into quiet submission.
Her cell vibrated next to her hip.
She swiped, and her eyes lit up behind her big shades.
Terry sent her a picture of himself wearing the gold compass necklace she bought for him in a pricey Mallorca jewelry shop. She had it engraved and mailed it to him in time for his birthday two weeks ago. He'd been on her mind a lot after leaving home. Wistful days passed by as she pondered her horizon. But he was always on the fringes.
He had the nerve to wear a sweater with no shirt while sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and sunlight making him look like a movie star.
Michaela let her index finger hover above the smartphone keyboard. She grappled with what to say. Touching her own compass necklace, she read the words her father put on it again.
"One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."
Under a Spanish sun, Michaela Maxwell decided to trust with an open heart. Her fingers flew across the keyboard.
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#aaron pierre#terry richmond#rebel ridge#terry richmond fanfiction#rebel ridge fanfiction#aaron pierre fanfiction#Terry Rechmond x Black Female OC#Softboi!Terry Richmond#uzumaki rebellion#uzumaki rebellion writes#black fanfiction writers#Black fanfiction#The One That Got Away
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☔This and more
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: One Shot - Established Relationship - Slice of Life - Fluff - Smutty Smut
Summary: Your weekend at the beach seems to be completely ruined, but luckily, your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook is ready to change everything.
Warnings: A delicious lunch and a drink at home, they call each other bubi and baby, Bf&Gf shenanigans,✨surprises✨, overall a tooth rotting piece of fluff served with a side of hot steamy smut *wink wink*, the end ❤️
Smut Warnings: Lots of steamy kisses, teasing, love bites, actual bites, dirty talking, worshiping, fingering, oral (F receiving), brief blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex (she takes the pill), cum on breasts, love making 💓, creampie
Wc: 5.6k
A/N: Hiii!🫣I know I should be working on the Red Light series, I promise it's wip and will come to life sooner or later, but I miss my boyfriend who's traveling for work and the weather is shit over here... I had this idea in my docs and I just felt inspired to finally write it. I hope you like it! 🥺 - Joy 🐰
The sun is scorching and the sky is always clear. People wear light clothes and have fun outside. This is summer, right?
Wrong.
Not this weekend at least, since the weather forecast predicted heavy rain until Sunday.
This weekend, in which you had plans with your boyfriend and your friends to spend it at the beach, with tents, lots of food and beach games. Everything ruined, since the first thunder that rumbled.
You wouldn't have been so upset about it if it weren't for the fact that work has been a living hell lately and that you really were looking forward to this outdoor weekend. Even if it was only for a few days, you really wanted to regenerate and disconnect from everything work related.
The sky is so gray, almost black, like your mood right now.
It's Saturday morning and usually, you and Jungkook leave shortly after breakfast to go grocery shopping, when, presumably, there are less people and it is easier to find what you need for the week. As if the bad weather wasn't badding enough, something seems to have hurt your boyfriend, who reluctantly told you that he can't come with you.
You sigh deeply, it couldn't go worse, you think, but maybe it's just your bad mood's fault for these thoughts.
You worry about Jungkook as you look for a spot in the supermarket parking lot. You text him once you find one, asking if he needs medicine or anything else for his stomachache, but he reassures you shortly after, replying that some lactic ferments will do the job.
You continue to stare at his response on the screen thoughtfully, maybe last night's fried chicken was too spicy?
Anyway, the temperature has dropped a lot because of the weather. You put on one of Jungkook's sweatshirts and get ready by putting the hood on before going out to reach the supermarket.
You spend about a couple of hours inside, looking for everything you had on your list.
As you’re about to reach the checkout, with a full cart and the only desire to go home, your phone rings.
It’s a text from Jungkook.
Bubi ❤️: “Bubi could you please buy some fresh mint and lemons while u'r out?”
You check his request a second time, not too sure you understand.
You stop in your tracks, frowning as you type a response.
You: “What do you need them for?”
You watch the chat and his name as it appears and disappears shortly after, waiting for his response, which comes a few moments later.
Bubi❤️: “I read somewhere that making tea with mint and lemon helps calm a stomach ache and I wanna try.”
You're not too convinced but It makes sense, if you think about it.
You reply that you'll get mint and lemons and that you'll go to the pharmacy before you head back home.
It’s almost lunchtime when you park the car in front of the apartment complex where you live.
The rain shows no signs of ceasing, continuing to pound on the windshield of the car.
When you’re about to get out to grab the groceries from the trunk, you see your boyfriend come out of the front door of the building and reach to your car door with a little jog.
He’s holding an open umbrella in his hand and when he opens the car door to let you out, he smiles widely.
“What are you doing out here?!”
“Let’s carry everything to the elevator together,”
And with that, he leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, a little damp from the rain.
You had forgotten your umbrella at home, despite his warnings. Too caught up in the greyness of your mood, evidently.
Once you have emptied your trunk and reached the elevator with the grocery bags in hand, you sigh loudly. A little tired from the weight of the bags and a little guilty for your state of mind.
He's always so helping and sweet and you have been quite intractable since yesterday. You feel the need to apologize to him.
Jungkook looks at you in silence, a slight smile on his lips as he plays with the piercing of his lip with his tongue.
"I'm sorry, bubi..." You break the silence, taking him by surprise.
"Mh? For what?"
You watch him as you explain why you really needed this weekend away to rest and relax a bit.
Jungkook nods, listening to you until your elevator ride stops at your floor.
"I know baby, don't worry."
The elevator's doors slide open.
It seems he wants to say something else, but he picks up the bags instead and starts to walk towards the front door of your apartment.
You follow him with the bags in your hand, feeling a little lighter and determined not to ruin this weekend any further.
Jungkook opens the door, gets rid of his shoes in the blink of an eye, leaving them near the shoe rack before running towards the kitchen. You don't understand what's gotten into him all of a sudden and when you enter, you put the bags down next to you to take off your shoes and tidy up his too.
When Jungkook returns a few moments later, he picks up your discarded bags too and rushes into the kitchen with them.
"What are you doing?"
You know very well that your boyfriend has these energetic outbursts from time to time, like the good golden retriever boyfriend he is.
He doesn't answer, instead you see him come back towards you, slightly out of breath.
“Ook, so,” He begins, catching his breath.
“I know this weekend at the beach meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last 3 months working non-stop,”
His hands find yours and squeeze gently as he guides you through the small hallway of your entryway.
“And I know how much you need this, so,” He pauses, making you stop your tracks right in front of him as well.
“I’m sorry I made you go grocery shopping alone with this weather.”
He moves aside, allowing you to see what he was trying to hide behind his back.
The couch has been moved against the wall, the big carpet is adorned with countless children's toys, the classic ones for digging or making shapes in the sand and you notice an inflatable ball and some beach towels hidden under a beach umbrella.
The living room didn't seem that big, yet everything seems to fit in effortlessly.
You don't know what to say exactly, you observe everything with wide eyes and open mouth as Jungkook continues his speech.
"I know it's not the same thing, but-" You don't even give him time to finish the sentence, that your lips crash against his, your hands holding his face still as you kiss his mouth softly.
Initially surprised, Jungkook gives in in a split second, wrapping his arms around your small figure.
You let him hold you as a few tears threaten to escape your eyes.
You part from his lips just for a moment.
"So you didn't have diarrhea," And with that, you both burst into laughter in each other's arms as a small tear rolls down your face for the gratitude.
You are truly touched by the effort he put into it, by the love that hides such a gesture.
The laughter stops and your eyes lock. Jungkook caresses your cheek, wiping away that small, solitary tear.
"Thank you, babe..." Your tone is sweet and full of love and gratitude for him.
"This and more for you,"
He grabs one of your hands that are still holding his face and brings it to his lips, he kisses your knuckles with such delicacy before he moves away from you.
"Anyway, you don't look like you're dressed for the beach, why don't you go change while I sort out the groceries?"
You look down at yourself and giggle, even though it's not that hot, the idea of indulging in this little indoor beach is thrilling, you nod, telling him he's right, then you turn around, heading to your bedroom.
"No! Wait!"
Jungkook suddenly exclaims, making you stop in your tracks.
"I moved the bag you had packed to the bathroom, so you can change right there!"
"Oh okay, I'll take the chance to take a quick shower, then."
You reach the bathroom, getting ready to shower before you could finally wear your new bikini.
During your shower you can't help but smile at the idea that you're about to spend some time at the beach, without the beach, and the sun, and the sea. It's amusing.
Once cleaned and smelling nice, you put on your lilac bikini and its matching beach dress, fix your hair a bit and go back to the living room.
You don't remember seeing the TV on when you came in, but the sound of the waves envelopes you immediately.
On the TV, a high definition video of the waves lapping the beach repeats over and over and it's yet another detail that makes you smile. Jungkook has really thought of everything.
He's not in the living room, though.
You walk towards the kitchen, smelling something nice as you near the door. When you enter, you find your shirtless sexy boyfriend in front of the stove as he cooks something.
"Damn, that smells good," The kitchen is filled with the smell of fresh fish and lemon, it's so mouth-watering.
"That's what you needed the lemon for!"
You giggle as you approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his hips and leaving a light kiss on his shoulder as you watch his movements.
"I just watched a tutorial, I hope it turns out good."
He moves in your arms, turning around so he can observe your figure.
He hums delighted by what he sees.
The swimsuit hugs your curves perfectly and the beach dress semi-transparent fabric allows Jungkook to admire and go wild in his mind, with that see-through effect that makes him crazy.
You know exactly what's going through his mind right now. You can read it in his expression.
Despite the many years of relationship with him, the passion and attraction between you has always been strong, never faltering.
Jungkook has always worshiped your body in every possible way.
And his carnal gaze, which gently caresses your curves, is proof of that.
It's unbelievable how one single look from him is enough to make you feel like the most beautiful thing in this world.
“You like it?”
You ask innocently, spinning around so he can look at beautiful ass as well.
He hums in agreement, “It’ll look great on the floor later.”
And it’s not the phrase that makes your legs feel weak, but the tone of his voice. Warm and provocative, just the way you like it.
He steals a kiss that’s way too innocent to justify the burning sensation in your belly, before turning his attention back to the stove.
“You should cook shirtless more often,”
You try to speak, trying to sound unaffected, while your hands nonchalantly caress his pecs from behind, going down to his abs.
He chuckles softly, perfectly knowing what you're up to.
You love every single detail of his body. You swear you know by heart every groove and bump and yet the intensity of your yearning surprises you every time.
You sigh, trapping your lip between your teeth, unable to stop your hands from free roaming on his soft skin.
He is so addicting.
"Y/N.." Your name leaves his lips accompanied by a deep breath.
Your hands have the same effect that his skin has on you.
"What?"
You ask, not missing the contractions of his muscles under your touch when your hands tease his belly, just above the waistband of his swimsuit.
Jungkook turns off the stove and pushes the food away.
Then he turns around, and his face is now a few inches from yours.
In one quick and agile movement, he picks you up, letting your legs circle his bare waist.
A deep breath escapes your mouth as his chest touches yours and a second later you're sitting on the countertop, its coldness briefly soothing your heat.
"You can't do that while I'm cooking,"
He lets out, then he urgently dives forward, peppering the thin skin of your neck with languid kisses..
You almost moan at the touch.
"Why not,"
You ask, hoping your voice doesn't sound too desperate right now.
"Cause I'd have to fuck you hard and quick, right here on this countertop,"
You tilt your head backwards, allowing him to do as he pleases with your neck.
"And,"
He pauses, licking a long, slow stripe, from your collarbone to the skin below your earlobe.
"Even tho I know how much you love to be fucked like that,"
He softly kisses your jawline, then whispers right to your ear and your insides turn into boiling lava.
"I want to take my time with you, I want to taste you and savor every drop of your juice when I make you come."
His hands are nowhere on your body, you're only trapped between his arms that keep his weight slightly lean on you. And yet, your skin feels so hot, like his voice and words are washing the last bit of sanity away, leaving goosebumps all over you.
You gulp, unable to speak as you try to calm your breathing.
You love this man, you think you never stopped crushing over him, you're a total mess right now, by only his words and kisses on the neck.
"Fuck baby.."
You manage to say, even though your voice sounds strained.
"Be patient, yeah?"
And just like that, the magic is over.
He frees you, leaving your body hot and bothered just like that.
You whine a little, a sound that makes him chuckle darkly, probably proud of the effect he still has on you.
You're a tad bit annoyed, you're not gonna lie, but the excitement for what's to come prevails.
After having lunch with some delicious lemony fish, you and Jungkook decide to enjoy some relaxation lying on the beach towels placed on the floor in front of the TV. The mint cocktails you made earlier rest next to you, while some music plays casually from your phone.
You have to admit that the whole vibe is working very well, you don't even miss the sand and the smell of saltiness in the air. Everything feels just right, with the man you love by your side.
The apartment isn't that big, but everything Jungkook has prepared for the theme seems to fit perfectly, without being too bulky.
You take a moment to observe your surroundings, while sipping your drink every now and then.
You notice that there is enough space between the towels and the television, so you decide to grab the Nintendo Switch from its dock, and place it in front of you.
"Wanna play?"
Jungkook, who seems far too relaxed on his towel, is drawn in by your playful tone, he smiles nodding before grabbing a pair of joycons.
"What do you wanna play?"
You think for a moment, as you scroll through the games you have, undecided between Just Dance, volleyball, which might be the most suitable for the beach mood, or WarioWare, which as stupid as it is, never fails to make you laugh.
"We could play some volleyball to begin with, what do you say?"
"I'm down,"
You make some space and strap your joy con, just to be sure you don't crash anything while playing.
The games go smoothly and match after match and sip after sip of your drinks, you grow dizzier.
By the time you start playing Wario Ware, you both are a laughing mess, seeing your boyfriend copy those funny poses is the highlight of the day.
Your cheeks are hurting from the laugh and you don't even know what time it is while the rain keeps pouring outside.
The sound of sporadic thunder is a soft reminder that what is going on outside, doesn't bother you at all.
Especially now, embraced in your boyfriend's arms, skin to skin, as the center of your living room becomes the center of your world.
He kisses you, ever so gently, as his mouth moves with yours in a dance they know oh so well.
You bet his lips shared some secrets with yours as when you part from each other for a moment, you both smile fondly. As if no words are needed.
The way he's looking at you makes you feel so lucky.
You feel so precious when he touches you, so cherished.
His hands are so tender and attentive, he outlines your sides, pushing his body to yours as if it was possible to feel you even closer.
The game is long forgotten as you share another kiss, less innocent than the previous one.
Your hands bravely caress his shoulders and nape before intertwining with some soft locks.
Some music is still playing from your phone, thrown somewhere on the carpet when suddenly, As Long As You Love Me by Justin Bieber starts playing.
A pretty old song, but you remember you saved the acoustic version a long time ago, when you two weren't even a thing.
It couldn't be more apt for this moment in time, you think.
Your smile breaks the kiss and even though you feel your head a little heavy from the alcohol, you start singing.
He watches you fondly, swinging with you in his arms to the rhythm as he begins to sing the song with you.
His voice is heaven, you always told him that and he likes to sing for you. Although the shower or the car are his favorite stages most of the time.
You keep singing your heart out, pouring all your love in the lyrics as your gaze gets lost in his.
You've always been the sensitive type, especially in this kind of situation.
Your boyfriend seems as affected as you, though.
His gaze is glimmering and his embrace is tighter than before.
The song slowly but surely comes toward its end when Jungkook softly leans forward, whispering the last phrase right on your lips.
Your heart feels like it's about to burst in your chest and a moment later you're kissing him, like your life depends on it.
He lets you kiss him, lets you taste his tongue and maybe it's the alcohol, maybe the whole vibe, but you end up sprawled on the beach towels, kissing each other's brains out.
The beach umbrella, placed open on the ground for obvious reasons, offers some sort of shield from the artificial light of the lamp. The light filters through the colored material, leaving a soft hue of colors on your bodies.
You don't know where your beach dress has been thrown, the only thing in your mind right now, is your boyfriend's kisses.
He prints wet kisses all over your body and you feel like you're burning.
You breathe heavily, concentrating on the sensations of his lips on your abdomen.
"So fucking pretty,"
He states, seemingly out of breath. You shiver in pleasure as your heart skips a beat.
His hands reach your bikini bottom and you almost moan shamelessly as he asks,
"Are you already wet for me, baby?"
Then he pushes your bikini aside, not waiting for your answers, wanting to find out himself.
"Fuck, yes"
It's the only phrase that leaves your gaping mouth as he swipes his fingers between your legs.
You can feel the stickiness of your bikini and his breath right in front of your core.
"Want me to make you even wetter?
A soft yes leaves your lips, barely audible.
"Speak up, baby,"
It's a lewd scene, your legs are wide open in front of him and Jungkook is palming himself with his free hand. His swimming trunks are an uncomfortable obstacle but it's something he'll deal with later.
His attention is only focused on you right now.
"Kook-"
You moan as his wet fingers circle your clit.
"I want your tongue," you confess "Make me come on your tongue,"
You breathe out as your hands move over your tits, sliding under the fabric of your bikini top.
"Fuck, I love when you talk to me like that,"
He groans, and a moment later, he is giving in, licking your folds, sucking your clit, just as you like it. He knows it's going to make you a moaning mess before him.
He wasn't lying before, he is taking his sweet time savoring you, fucking you slowly with his tongue, then circling your clit and sucking on it every now and then.
When your body reacts at the waves of pleasure his motions are providing, he laughs darkly, the vibration of it a sweet addition to your pleasure.
Your body trembles, your orgasm building up at every french kiss he gives your pussy and you think you're going insane.
Your moans are louder, turning to sweet little whine when you know you're about to reach your high.
"I'm close, fuck, don't stop,"
As if he needed you to tell him not to stop.
Jungkook is quick to react, pushing with ease his middle and ring finger inside you.
The new stimulation makes you cry out in pleasure and he is so turned on by your sounds, he thinks he might bust in his swimming suit just with that.
"Love this pussy,"
He says, voice deep and steady.
"Can't wait to fuck you just right,"
And just like that, the built up tension in your belly snaps and a strong orgasm washes over you.
His hands, his words, the picture of his pretty cock slamming into your pussy, sends you over the edge.
You let out a moan that sounds like his name and your hands move from your tits to brush his hair.
You're still trembling from your orgasm when you open your eyes, not sure when you closed them and all you see is your boyfriend, hair disheveled, sucking on his wet fingers like a lollipop.
His dark gaze meets your dazed eyes and he smiles, way too innocently considering the lustful motions of his tongue.
"God," you blurt out, trying to regain a stable breathing, "Why are you still wearing that?"
You point at his bottom half, moving a second later to help him freed himself from the useless piece of clothing.
His dick springs free, hungry and leaking some precum.
You hum, licking your lips as if you were a starved woman, ready to devour her meal.
When you grab the base of his thick member and move to lick it, Jungkook surprisingly blocks your hand gently.
You frown, looking up mid motion, puzzled.
"I won't be able to hold back much longer if you suck me,"
His voice is almost apologetic and you tenderly smile, finding his confession hot and endearing at the same time.
"Just a little?"
You put up your best pleading eyes, softly adding, "Please?"
Jungkook's eyes roll back as he bites his lip and a deep breath leaves through his nostrils.
You know he likes when you beg for it.
While you scream in pleasure or with big innocent eyes, he just loves when you ask nicely, like a good girl.
He can't resist you.
He could never resist those pretty eyes of yours.
He shifts in his place, allowing you to get on your knees before grabbing your chin, ever so gently.
"Be a good girl then and open wide."
You smile in content, doing just as he asked, opening your mouth as wide as you can and sticking out your tongue.
When you look up at him, Jungkook slowly puts his fingers inside your mouth, and your faint taste still lingers in them.
You suck and lick on them for a second, then when he pulls them out, he smears your saliva along his sensitive dick.
His breaths are heavy and when he slams it a couple of times on your tongue he groans.
That's when he loses it a little.
He grabs your jaw, helping you tilt your head at the right angle, then pushes the tip inside.
You do your best by swirling your tongue around the salty tip, closing your lips around it just enough for him to feel a little pressure.
By the time you pop your lips open, he pushes a little more in, enough to stuff your mouth.
You instinctively bob your head, trying to get more of him inside and when a moan escapes his throat, you know he will stop you soon.
You take the opportunity to tease him a little, grabbing at his butt and fondling the soft skin of it as he sloppily thrusts.
Jungkook's sounds are animalistic, his thrusts are steady but right before he pulls out completely, he gives one last thrust that almost hits the back of your throat.
You gasp for air as he gently pushes you back down on the beach towel.
He swiftly takes your bikini away, both the bottom and the top, and latches his plumb lips to one of your breasts.
The coldness of his piercing mixed with his hot breath is a nice contrast for your perked up nipples.
You hiss when he bites the sensitive nub, but he quickly eases the pain away by kissing and lapping at the abused skin.
"Kook-"
A broken moan leaves your throat when he bites you again, this time on the delicate meat of your breast. It's softer than before, but you feel hyper responsive right now.
"Can I come here?"
He whispers, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.
You giggle, feeling a little ticklish when his fingers travel down your sides.
"Why are you asking?" you pull him closer till his cock is leaning between your folds.
The contact sends shivers down to your core and you buck your hips almost automatically.
"You know I love it, Kook"
He just needed to hear you say that aloud, that's clear when pushes up a little, aligning the tip of his member with your entrance.
"You love it, huh? Thought you loved it more inside you tho,"
He pushes in, inch by inch as he finishes his phrase.
You gasp at the sweet stretch, feeling breathless as he bottoms up.
"I love it down my throat too,"
That makes him go feral.
It's all you're able to say before he props up on his elbow, one hand behind your shoulder, the other clasped around your hip to keep you there as he fucks you at a ruthless pace.
You're fucking on the floor, on a beach towel, shielded by a beach umbrella with Wario Ware long forgotten on the tv and some music shuffling from your phone, meanwhile outside it's pouring and thundering since this morning.
It might seem a messy situation, but everything feels at his place.. Nothing is missing here.
Every thrust elicits soft moans from you. He promptly kisses you, and as you make out you wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him closer and closer.
That allows him to jack hammer into you with measured force.
The squelching sounds are filling the room, followed by his throaty moans and yours.
You're about to come once again, the pressure on your stomach well fed by the way his cock is hitting on the right spot inside you.
"Kook," you cry out, "I'm about to-"
"Me too baby," he pecks your lips before he adds, "Let me feel you come all over my cock,"
His hips slap against yours impossibly fast, just as fast as your orgasm approaches.
Your body stiffens and after a few seconds there it is, the sweet release, the white pleasure that washes over you.
You cry out his name repeatedly, till your cry subside to a moan and you feel his thrusts getting sloppier and erratic.
"Fuck, yes, I'm coming too,"
And he pulls out quickly, kneeling between your trembling legs before he pumps his fist around his drenched dick a few times before hot spurts of his cum lands on your body.
He moans shamelessly and you love when he gets all vocal, it turns you on even though you feel totally devastated right now.
He covers your breasts in sticky white and some of it lands on your chin too.
You don't mind, not when he looks so blissed and fucked out.
When he empties his load completely, he watches you, admiring his masterpiece and offering you a hand.
He chuckles breathlessly and pecks your lips as he pulls you up.
"Let's take a shower, shall we?"
You nod, not sure if you're able to speak right.
You make sure to turn off the tv and the music on your phone before you head straight to the bathroom.
Jungkook offers to wash you up first and you let him do it.
It's obviously not the first time you shower together, but it doesn't happen that often either.
You wash up each other, giggling and chatting like he was not balls deep inside you just moments ago.
By the time you finish your shower and dry up, it's dinner time.
You enjoy your evening eating the food you thoroughly prepared beforehand right on the floor, because yes, Jungkook refused to put away the beach towels saying that "Our beach experience is not over yet".
Even though you shake your head in defeat, you chuckle, amused by his determination.
The evening went by in total relaxation, you're curled up on your boyfriend's side as another episode of Demon's Slayer flashes on the tv screen. The air is chilly right now and you feel the fatigue of the day get the better of you.
"Wanna go to bed after this episode?"
He asks, noticing your breathing is getting heavier.
You fell asleep a couple of times for a few minutes, trying to keep track of what you're watching when you woke up, but it's kind of frustrating.
You hum in agreement, stretching your back a little.
When the episode comes to its end, Jungkook stands up from the ground and leaves the living room. You walk up to the window, curious to see the state of the world outside.
Perhaps you hoped to see a clear sky, but unfortunately you were disappointed.
It's still raining, though it's not pouring like this afternoon. Droplets of water are slamming on the glass in a soft lullaby.
It's soothing somehow and you take a moment to take in the different effect the rainy weather has on you right now, compared to this morning.
Strong arms circle your waist and a soft peck on your head draws your attention away from the window.
"There's another surprise for you,"
He whispers right in your ear before you turn around to look into his eyes.
Your arms find their place around his neck and you look at him, intrigued.
"Another one?"
He grins at your curiosity, pulling you towards the bedroom just a moment later.
When you enter the room, you're welcomed by his favorite galaxy lamp while it projects purple and blue hue up on the roof.
Small green dots serve as little stars, scattered all around as they are slow dancing and a camping tent about the size of the bed is placed on top of it.
You're shocked, unable to speak as emotions get stuck in your throat, you inspect the room with teary eyes, touched by all his effort to make this weekend just perfect.
"Do you like it?"
He tentatively asks, watching your reaction by the frame of the door.
When you turn around you quickly reach out to him, hugging him so tight you think you might break his spine.
You softly sob on his chest as he returns the hug, kissing the top of your head affectionately and when you finally look up at him with a wide smile, Jungkook breaks in the softest laugh you have ever heard from him.
"It's perfect," you state, "You are perfect,"
Jungkook's gaze fills with all the love he has for you, a gaze that doesn't need words and after he dried away your salty tears, you kiss him passionately.
Nothing could ever compare to this moment, to this little piece of heaven he created for just the two of you, under a starry sky that belongs to you and him and no one else.
You poured all your love on every inch of his body, tasted his soft skin and marked it as yours.
He did the same to you, making sure your body was worshiped as it deserves.
That night, you made love like nothing existed outside of your camping tent, it was only you and him, becoming one as your soft moans mingled in the room.
It was gentle, like the time was no longer flowing until slowly but surely, you reached your high together, hugging each other as he came inside you.
You felt full of him, in every sense possible as he softly kissed your forehead and you whispered the sweetest I love you in the air.
You cuddled to sleep, refusing to leave your tent to go wash up and when the morning after you woke up between your boyfriend's arms, you knew another beautiful day on a sandless beach awaited.
Another day with the love of your life, in your little perfect world.
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook one shot#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jk#bts#jungkook scenario#jungkook fanfic#jungkook bts#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook scenario#jeon jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts one shot#bts x reader#bts smut#bts fluff
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hey lovely !! please can i order shrimp cocktail served hot with lobster and cheese fries and some mint tea to drink, served by max verstappen? i love monza as a track :D
Dia's Diner Menu
shrimp cocktail rivals to (and) lovers hot appetizer sweet sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy" cheese fries "I love making you squirt" mint tea body worship + kimchi "Be a good girl and take it"
TW: PiV, unprotected sex, finishing inside
WC: 1.1k
A/N: they're already lovers in this one, I'm sorry if that's not what you had in mind but it was the easiest for me to work with.
I was scrolling on my phone when I heard a knock on my door. First one, then a pause then two more, one right after the other. They weren’t timid soft taps of knuckles against the woods, they were determined hits.
I knew who it was right away. I was expecting him from the moment we got back to the hotel one media day wrapped up.
I shut off my phone and threw my legs off the side of the bed, pushing my body up. It only took a couple of steps for me to reach the door of my hotel room. My hand lingered over the handle of the door, before I finally pushed it down and opened the door.
The light from the hallway was bright, contrasting the dimmed lights of my room. I looked at him, standing in front of me, with his arms crossed over his chest, a hint of a smirk on his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a white shirt, a completely regular look for a guy, but God, did it look delicious on him.
“Verstappen,” I said, my voice holding a hint of a teasing tone, my lips stretching into a small smirk.
To the outside world, Max Verstappen and I were each other’s biggest haters. Born rivals, if you will. We’ve never gotten along on the track, definitely noticeable by our colorful radios about each other, and the fact that we usually had only not so nice things to say about each other during interviews.
But behind closed doors things were much much different. Max and I had been seeing each other for around 6 months by now. Sneaking into each other’s hotel and driver’s rooms, sneaking kisses behind garages and going on dates dressed like we were running away from the police.
His eyes slid along my figure, making goosebumps rise on my skin. “Schatje,” he said, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue is his mother language.
I stepped to the side and Max wasted no time coming in. As soon as the doors were closed behind him, his hands were all over me. He pushed me gently up against the wall, one of his hands running along the curves of my body while he used the other to push my chin up. He leaned down, his lips pressing against mine in a passionate kiss, his tongue stroking mine with precise movements.
Max picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist and carried me over to the bed. He dropped me down and crawled on top of me, trailing kisses along my skin. “Been thinking about this the whole day,” he said, his lips brushing against my jaw. “You looked so good today, I spent all day thinking about having you under me like this.”
He quickly worked on removing my clothes and then his own and before I knew it we were both naked. I looked up at him, his eyes dark with need, I ran one of my hands down the skin of his back, watching him shiver at the sensation.
“Please Max,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. He cocked one eyebrow, signaling for me to keep talking, that a simple please wasn’t enough if I didn’t say what I was asking for.
I could feel myself blushing, blood rushing to my cheeks and making them warm. “Please, I need you to fuck me,” I said. “Need to feel your cock in me.”
“Whatever you need, schatje,” he said, and I can practically feel his voice vibrate through me.
Max doesn’t waste time. He spreads my legs and slowly pushes himself in and then stills once he’s balls deep in me, giving me time to adjust to being stretched by him.
“Move, please!” I manage to say and Max gives me a little nod and a smile before he begins thrusting into me.
While this is different from our usual fast, hard and desperate hookups, it’s still equally as good. The angle he is thrusting into me from is allowing the tip of his cock to hit my most senstive spots over and over again as he fucks me.
“You’re so pretty, schatje,” he said as he brought one hand to my skin. He ghosts his fingers over my collarbones, then the edge of my breast and then along my waist. “The most beautiful woman to walk the planet.”
“Max,” I whined, blushing at his words. It was quickly replaced by a moan as his hand moved down between us and his thumb started circling my clit.
My body arched off the bed, the sensation both unexpected and overwhelming, as he continued to fuck me and play with my clit. “Shh,” he said, pressing his lips against my forehead. “Be a good girl and take it, yeah? I know you can.”
“I’m gonna cum,” I moaned out, feeling like every nerve in my body had been set on fire.
That made Max speed up his movements, his thumb rubbing just a bit faster as he continued to push himself impossibly deeper into me with every thrusts.
I came with a loud moan, my orgasm hitting me faster and harder than I expected. I barely managed to register what was happening, finally focusing my mind on the facts that I had squirted all over Max, droplets of it running down his abdomen.
Max groaned, his hips never losing their rhythm as he continued to chase his own orgasm. “I love making you squirt,” he said, his voice rough and raspy. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”
My eyes locked on his and swallowing the lump in my throat I opened my mouth to speak. “Inside, Max, please.” I babbled, too lost in my own pleasure to care about how it sounded. “Come in me, please.”
I clenched my walls around him and that was all it took for him to finally break. Max groaned, his hips stilling as he emptied himself inside of me.
He took a moment to catch his breath and then slowly pulled out his now softening dick out of me. His eyes darkened, gaze fixated between my legs. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy,” he said, a low growl in his voice.
I leaned up enough to press my lips against his in a gentle, loving kiss. Once we pulled apart, Max let himself fall onto the bed next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel myself starting to fall asleep, my eyelids getting heavy.
Max pressed his lips against my forehead gently. “I love you, schatje,” he said, his voice lulling me to sleep. I hummed in response before closing my eyes.
#f1 fic#dia's diner#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x you#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#mv1 x you#mv1 x reader#mv33#mv1#max x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fic#mv1 smut#mv1 fic#max verstappen imagine#mv1 imagine
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TF!141 but they don't go to the bar together; not on purpose.
They're wound too tight, have seen the bad end of one too many bar brawls, to let loose with booze in public.
Instead there's one of those cozy coffee shop/bar type places not too far from HQ. It's not open all night, but it's open as long as you need it.
Mismatched furniture, plush but ugly, the lighting low and disarming - run by the vet behind the counter. She only plays soft acoustic tracks; nothing with a hard bass.
The team usually goes their separate ways, but they tend to end up there, trickling in throughout the night when the days are rough.
When the nightmares keep them from sleeping, or being alone with their thoughts is too much.
There aren't rules, necessarily - but it's unspoken that this is not fucking therapy. They don't talk about why they're not in bed, asleep. Everyone's got reasons.
Instead, they abuse the furniture, shut down in a place where they won't be alone.
Soap tangled sideways in his chair with a coffee - don't look at him, he wasn't getting shut-eye anyway - listening to podcasts in one ear, sketching idly on a napkin.
There's a collection scattered across the wall, his and others', and the owner let's 'em hang.
Gaz with a blanket on his lap, feet on an ottoman and an earl grey nearby that he never drinks, but orders anyway. He spends most of the time on the phone, but he holds the cup in his hands until every last vestige of warmth seeps into his skin.
The barista will refull his mug until the teabag brews clear. No questions asked.
Price sits in an armchair with the lone vintage telly on mute, watching football reruns and fishing championships. He drinks whiskey and a damned good thing someone does. They mostly stock it for him.
He thinks it helps him sleep, and some nights it does - sometimes he falls asleep in the stupid purple chair and wakes up with a blanket over him at closing.
Ghost sits on the floor. He's most comfortable there, with his back against the sofa, and the carpet is plush enough for someone like him. He drinks herbal tea, usually mint, let's the smell clear his head while he reads.
He reads the same two books on the loaner shelf until the spines break and pages start to fall from the binding, and one day they're replaced with the full series.
He realizes he actually likes reading, doesn't have to pretend just for something to do with his hands, and starts bringing in his cast-offs to swapout and take home.
They don't always make it there at the same time, or even on the same nights. Sometimes weeks go by without any of them showing up, when things are good or when they've been gone...
But they know they are always welcome to seek solace at The Treehouse.
#setting myself up for x reader options? mayyybe#simon ghost riley#john price#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#call of duty#the treehouse fic
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