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kingofbodyrolls · 11 months ago

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Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm

You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.

→ Pairing: Jimin x female reader → AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. → Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 6,1k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀 → Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because). Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜

If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).

“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.

“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”

“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.

A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.

Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.

Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.

The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.

Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.

“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.

“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.

You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.

Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.

“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.

You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”

Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.

In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.

“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.

Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.

You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.

“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.

In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.

You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.

The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.

Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.

“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.

“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.

“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.

Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.

“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.

Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.

“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.

“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.

“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.

You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.

Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.

You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.

You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.

“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.

You nod your head.

“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!

“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.

“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold.

“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.

An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.

You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄

Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂

Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.

A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.

“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.

“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.

After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”

Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.

Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.

Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.

“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket.

“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.

With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.

A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket.

“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles.

You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility.

“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response.

“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space.

“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.

“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.

Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body, his di—

Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.

His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze.

“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air.

“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone.

“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips.

A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.

You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.

“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect.

Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours.

He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”

His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave.

His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck.

His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.

Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.

“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you.

His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy.

“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.

And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.

Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?

He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.

“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.

He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.

“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge.

Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.

“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.

He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?

The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.

“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand.

He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.

His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!

Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.

“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.

You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.

“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you.

You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment.

You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not.

Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.

“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.

He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.

“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”

He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own.

Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him.

Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps.

Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue.

“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.

He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.

He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.”

You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.

“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.

He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two.

“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.

He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.

His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste.

However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips.

“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you.

You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip.

He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”

You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.

You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand.

His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence.

You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.

He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.

As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.

You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.

He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”

You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.

A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.

A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.

He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?

“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.

“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.

Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.

Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.

The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.

As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.

You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.

“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.

“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.

Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.

Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.

“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.

“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.

He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.

“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.

You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.

A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”

His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.

Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.

His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”

A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.

“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.

Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.

“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.

His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.

Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.

As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.

As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.

With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.

Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.

Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.

He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.

Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.

Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.

His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.

As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.

As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.

“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.

“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.

The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.

As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”

You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?

You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.

Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.

As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.

As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.

Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.

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messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago

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Make it Better

Summary: You wanted to be better for him, but maybe better wasn't what he wanted.

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: Argghhh I had a chance to cook, and chat, I fear I fumbled. Through two rounds of drafting too,. Ah well, I solemnly swear to do more Dick content regardless. 😤

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You smoothed down your clothes, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your forehead was creased lightly in worry, fingers playing with your hair as you tried to get it to sit right. No matter what you did, nothing seemed to look the way you wanted. You didn't like the jewellery you wore, or the way you had done your hair. Your clothes seem wrinkled in the light no matter how many times you undressed to steam them, and the vibrant blue you wore seemed to be wearing you instead. You sigh, head coming to thump against the mirror.

You swear you had tried to do better than this.

It was always the same pit of nervousness that came off of going to one of the Wayne Family Gala's, so deep and endless in your stomach it felt like the rest of you would just fall through. Not only that, but you were also on the arm of one of the heirs of Gotham, one of the princes whose face was on every magazine cover and every second teenager’s bedroom wall.

Dealing with cameras that flashed nonstop, light so blinding you thought it had been daylight the first time you experienced it. A red carpet walk that felt like a vulture's strip, your name being screamed at by faceless reporters, microphones and cameras waving over the red rope stanchions to try and pry your comment from you. It was all so overwhelming, the sounds and lights. You surely would have collapsed the first time, if it hadn't been the comforting weight that slipped around your waist, and the dazzling smile that took the heat off you.

Dick's hand always knew how to keep you grounded during those events, tracing small shapes into your waist and turning you so he could take the brunt of the cameras. Waving to every news reporter and journalist frothing at the mouth for his statement, always offering some upbeat support for whatever the cause was, while they wrote it like the word of God. The same hand that would guide you through the doors of the venue and out of reach of the squabble outside, looking down at you with the boyish blue eyes you adored and white grin stretched across his face.

"You okay?" he'd ask softly, and you always nodded. The tension in your body melted away when his eyes searched yours so earnestly, trying to pick apart if you were lying. His own worry always seemed to dwarf your own, making you smile as you reassured him that you were fine.

You wanted to get better this time.

So, when you arrived for the Christmas Ball held by the Mayor in the Park, you had already prepped yourself. Dick had come to collect you in his car, smile bright and dazzling when he saw you. It was like he saw past all the flaws you could highlight in your outfit, not caring that the shade of blue you were wearing didn't match his tie exactly, and that despite all your efforts your hair refused to co-operate. He made no comment on your jewellery despite how you felt that the silver you picked didn't match with the rest of what you were wearing, or that it clashed with the gold on your shoes. He just opened the car door for you, kissing your cheek as his hand came to the middle of your back where it belonged.

"You look amazing." he hummed; eyes bright as he shut your door for you. You smiled weakly back in response, tension easing slightly. he could tell your anxiety hadn't gone down, evident in the way his thumb drew circles on your thigh, one hand resting there while the other gripped the wheel. Your hands felt cold despite the car's heater going full blast, and your cheeks were numb. The pit in your stomach threatened to swallow you whole again, adrenaline running through your body like you were fighting for your life. It made your throat close up, worsening as the car rolled to a stop.

"You going to be okay?" he asks softly, hand coming to gently cup your face. You nod, although your smile was tense.

You could do better. This night was going to be fine.

"Yeah. I'm ready." you reply back, the clamouring of reporters and the frantic clicking of shutters were dulled while you were in the car, but you knew it would turn into a roar the second the seal of the door cracked. "We'll make the entry quick; I promise." he smiles, hurrying out from the driver’s seat to come to your door, the paparazzi outside growing ten times louder now that a prince of Gotham has shown his face.

Like the true gentleman he is, he offered his hand to help you climb out from the passenger’s side, broad shoulders blocking most of the flashes aimed your way. You tilt your head up, and your breath is stolen for a moment.

"Good?" he mouths to you, and you wordlessly nod. Illuminated by the flashes of the cameras behind him he looked heaven sent, a bright halo ghosting over the contours of his face and the dip of his cupid's bow. You nod, and he brings you out in front of the crowd. The flashes blind you as usual, but you do your best to send a few smiles their way, waving at a couple of reporters that make you pose together for photos. A perfect couple, that's what you tried to be. Tried to be someone worth standing next to the human turned angel next to you.

You hold yourself together, feeling more and more confident as you walk your way down the carpet, until you’re out of sight. You turn to him now hidden behind the privacy of the event doors, beaming up at him. He reciprocates his smile, hands settling onto your hips as he pulls you close for only a moment. "Getting the hang of it I see," he teases, "I told you; you were made for the spotlight."

He chuckles at the light flush that envelops your features, arm looped with yours as he guides you into the ballroom.

That one comment makes you feel on top of the world, inspiring you to come out of your shell and mingle with everyone, glass in your hand. You felt seen, branching off for conversations and even getting along well with some of his brothers as they arrive. The anxiety smooths out from your forehead, shoulders relaxing and smiles coming more easily.

That was until you saw her. More accurately, until you saw him looking at her.

Barbara entered the ballroom, clad in a beautiful, deep purple dress and her gorgeous orange hair falling down her back. Your shoulders raised again, fingers tightening on the glass flute uncomfortably.

She was gorgeous, of course. You told her any time you saw her around, since she was still invited to the family dinners every couple of months. Tense smiles swapped between you both, with conversation just polite enough to cover any awkwardness. Were you apprehensive when you started dating Dick and he told you that they were still friends? of course you were. Was it a worry when they had “work” discussions you weren’t allowed to be in? You had cried over some of those nights. But his smile was charming, and he treated you like you were his earth.

Well, if you were his earth, he was looking at her like she was his sun.

You swear you could see galaxies in the deep blue of his eyes, stars in the smile that fell across his face when she waved at him. Even when she disappeared into the sea of rich Gothamites, his eyes sought her out like an asteroid in orbit. Everything felt like it was collapsing around you, spotlight of confidence cut off and leaving a cool chill across your skin.

Your clothes felt itchy and off colour again, jewellery felt cheap. Your shoes didn't fit right, and your hair looked unflattering in the window reflections. Like Cinderella your clock had struck midnight, except you hadn't even gotten to dance yet. Your stomach rolled, butterflies from before attaching to your sides and cocooning again, going still. Your heart felt heavy, sitting low in your throat and preventing you from calling his name. He looked so spellbound, so full of longing in the way that his lip’s part softly in a sigh.

When he blinks it's like he comes out of a trance and he takes a moment to collect himself again, hand coming to rest once more on your waist. He looks down at you, and you take in his features again. The starlight in his eyes has dulled, his smile still soft but nowhere near as radiant. You had no idea if he realised what he had done, if he was aware of the way he radiated sunlight simply from looking at her. "Let's go get something to eat, dinner will be served soon." he grins, leading you along after your tight-lipped smile and nod. He grinned at the high class he passed, politely navigating them with you at his side completely unknowing that they'd all witnessed his visible adoration. Oblivious himself to the fact that his heart was still in love with the commissioner’s daughter, despite having you by his side.

You wanted to it to all get better, and for a moment it had.

However, as he pulled out your chair for you and you made eye contact with the gorgeous, green eyed woman across from you, the reality sank in that no matter how much you wanted to do better, you would never be able to do better than the memory of her.

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prodagustd · 6 months ago

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the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake.

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not.

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month.

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t, why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago.

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away.

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you.

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart.

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him.

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy.

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet.

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget.

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch.

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage.

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it.

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again.

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly.

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.”

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump.

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air.

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.”

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously.

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.”

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse.

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that.

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you.

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong.

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered.

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no.

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day.

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all.

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it.

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist.

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you.

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind.

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself.

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?”

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you.

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon.

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe…

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.”

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon?

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you.

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.”

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different?

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first.

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?”

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question.

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly.

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?”

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people.

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.”

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.”

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you.

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh.

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping.

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered.

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room.

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster.

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat.

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door.

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t.

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right.

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth.

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it.

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes.

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle.

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve.

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade.

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products.

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you.

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not.

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her.

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor.

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you.

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation.

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped.

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words.

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was?

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him.

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.”

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant.

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute.

What. Was. He. Doing.

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face.

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it.

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that.

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him.

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure.

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were.

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling.

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other.

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation.

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you.

“Well, I can only imagine…” She said, but you did not miss her undertone.

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind.

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you.

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside.

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame.

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you.

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit.

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment.

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came.

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him?

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away.

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home.

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you.

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts.

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city.

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.”

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises.

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart.

Nothing like reality, you thought.

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.”

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations.

But of course, once again, you were wrong.

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…”

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind.

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were.

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth.

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else.

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear.

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine.

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again.

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing?

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved.

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent.

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that.

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.”

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him.

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick.

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.”

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless.

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response.

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree.

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him.

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.”

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804

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irisintheafterglow · 11 months ago

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it's no secret that olympic athlete!sakusa despises parties. you don't make it easier on him, especially during the jackals' annual holiday party.

cw: a little suggestive toward the end but nothing explicit (he does things to me can you blame me)

he was in hell. the table was too loud, the people were too loud, and he couldn't find you. to make matters worse, his teammates seemed to be hellbent on catching you and him under the mistletoe.

"i swear, i'm going to shove a candy cane so far up your-"

"hey, no vulgarity! it's christmas," atsumu cuts in with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. the effects of the spiked eggnog in his cup were obvious, much to sakusa's disgust. "plus, objects shoved up our lovely posteriors would impede our mission for the night." snickers run through the remainder of the group, drowned out immediately by the chatter of the party. even though it was tradition and the most talked about event for months, it still didn't make the atmosphere any less hell-like.

"and then i'm going to hide your bodies so well, the police won't even know where to look," sakusa continues, sending them a glare over the rim of his soju bottle. his friends watch his eyes flick over the faces in the crowd, searching the shut-down hotel restaurant for whom they could only assume was you.

"yeah, yeah, then you'll be at our funerals with the fake tears running rampant and telling our mothers how great we were. we've heard this spiel before," bokuto dismisses with a wave of his hand and a knowing smirk on his face. "just you wait. you'll be thanking us later, lover boy."

"i hate you all," he replies, registering the journalist's approach seconds before she arrives at their table. "media," he warns quietly. "don't do anything dumb."

"evening, boys," she greets a split second later, shrewd eyes raking over the group. sakusa tries to keep his grimace off his face. the task proves difficult, though, when he can practically hear atsumu set his sights on charming her by the end of the night. "mind if i snap a picture of you all looking so handsome?" atsumu clumsily sputters out an answer, resting an arm around hinata's shoulders and forcefully pulling sakusa closer as bokuto smiles wide enough to cover the entire frame. a click and a familiar blinding flash later, the image is taken and he tenses in anticipation of the inevitable follow-up conversation. "so, how are you boys feeling tonight? enjoying the party?"

"we are," hinata answers before anyone can stop him from accepting the invitation for questions. "we were just talking about our plans for the rest of the evening."

"yep, involving sakusa and the mistletoe. he doesn't want us to say that, though," bokuto whispers at the same volume he normally speaks.

"oh? do tell more." her eyes shine like a piranha's and it makes sakusa's stomach turn. "who's the lucky lady? i'd love to get her side of all this, too." a clever batting of her eyelashes toward atsumu has him nearly crawling over the table to answer her.

"you're gonna love this, ma'am. the one sakusa's been after is-"

"this isn't a press event, so i'd advise you enjoy the rest of the festivities. thank you for your time," sakusa informs her flatly, much to the dismay of his teammates. he was never one for interviews, much less team ones, and catching him off-guard at a party was a surefire way of pissing him off. it was a golden opportunity for her, yes, but one more question out of her lipsticked mouth would force him to take a walk. "enjoy the party."

"wait, but-"

"omi? d'you mind walking me to the car real quick? i forgot my chapstick and the cold is making my lips dry." a gentle hand on sakusa's shoulder instantly eases any tension in his body and he hopes you can feel the gratitude radiating from him. it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to stand, curtly excuse himself from the table, and walk with you toward the door. his fingers intertwine with yours as your shoes click across the marble tiles of the hotel lobby, pulling you closer when you step into the winter night. "did you like my little rescue? i've been working on my acting skills," you ask with a small smile once you're finally away from prying eyes and nosy ears.

"i'll make space on the bookshelf for your academy award. and yes, more than you'll ever understand," he exhales, slowing your pace while he waves down the valet to retrieve his car. "i only wish you got there sooner."

"and caused more drama? i would think a volleyball player understands that timing is everything," you tease, brushing a stray curl from his face and running your thumb across his cheekbone. "i can't blame her, though. you do look ridiculously good tonight." his ears become the slightest shade pinker and you can't hide your giggle at his embarrassment. he never was the best with words, nor did he outwardly show a lot of emotion. but, after knowing him for so long, you found that the right words could have him in a puddle before you in less than a few sentences.

"speak for yourself," he counters in a tone low enough to give you goosebumps, ones that weren't from the chilly air. "it's been a struggle to keep my hands to myself for a few hours." his hand snakes across your lower back and grabs you by your waist, closing any remaining space between your bodies. he tracks the way your fingers dig around your bag, how you're conveniently avoiding his eyes just to drive him even more mad. "what're you doing, dove?"

"grabbing my chapstick," you reply nonchalantly, popping off the cap and swiping it across your bottom lip a few times. his eyes burn on your skin and you sneak a glance at his face to find his pupils blown to the size of ornaments. you were really testing his resolve tonight. "what, you really think i'd go anywhere without this?"

"no," he admits, eyeing his car as it pulled into the roundabout. "i knew that was bullshit from the moment you walked up to the table. the guys probably knew it, too."

"you think that lady knew it?"

"no way, unless hinata's lips got loose." on instinct, you step into the passenger's side after he opens the door.

"can you imagine the headline? 'stats analyst steals away star hitter during the middle of a holiday interview. dive into the rumors of sakusa's secret relationship!' i'd never hear the end of it," you chuckle once he slides into the driver's seat. with the heater blasted and the seat warmer turned all the way up, you suddenly remember why you're in the car in the first place. "wait, shouldn't we go back inside?"

"why should we?" a dangerous glint appears in your boyfriend's eyes and you're thankful for the darkness that hid your warming face. "i've got all i need right here." with one more glance to make sure all the windows were rolled up, he finally leans over and presses his lips to yours. with a sigh, you let his hand wander over your leg, lightly stopping its trajectory with a hum when it creeps closer to your inner thigh. "too much? we can go back in if you don't wanna bail yet."

"no, i'm okay. i know you're ready to go, too," you murmur. even before you were officially in a relationship, there existed a silent understanding that, when one of you got tired of socializing, the other would be their excuse to leave. "tell the boys we got food poisoning from shrimp cocktail."

"neither of us ate the shrimp cocktail."

"who's gonna know? don't you wanna go home?" the jerk of the key in the ignition is the answer you receive, followed by the engine roaring to life. "i'll consider that a yes. it's a shame i have to hang up this outfit early, though. i do like it a lot." you unsuccessfully attempt to fake a frown, pulling at the expensive fabric of your party clothes. it was half the truth, but the other half of the truth stayed unspoken while his hand laid itself back on your thigh as he left the hotel in the dust.

"don't worry," he mutters without taking his eyes of the road. "i'll help you take it off."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n #msby x you #msby x reader #msby x y/n #haikyu fluff

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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FX’s The Bear masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

requests are OPEN where to watch: FX, Hulu, and Disney+

God's Plan

your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

word count: 3.3k+

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

🎭 drama 🥺 hurt 🚫 no REAL comfort 🙊 general language and content warning 🍄 toxic relationship 🍑 reader with given nickname 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

part two: Two to Tango

the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

word count: 5.4k+

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

🎭 drama ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💔 small angst 🧸 small fluff ☠️ discussion of deceased family member 🙊 general language and content warning 💣 relationship angst 🍑 reader with given nickname 🔏 barely edited 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant

-> a highly-recommended 303-page novel by Anne Tyler

behind closed doors, many families have secret turmoil. you experience your boyfriend's with him one fateful Christmas. -> or how Carmy finally made the decision to get away.

word count: 10.4k+

🍒 author's favorite 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and small comfort ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 stand-alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🐍 toxic family / family angst 🥊 depiction of canon-typical physical violence and / or aggression 💛 requires maturity and caution ✝️ Lord's name in vain 🍑 reader with given nickname 🔏 barely edited 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

Opening Night and Open Hearts

opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

word count: 9.8k+

🍑 reader with given nickname 💍 established relationship 🙊 general language and content warning ⚠️ spoilers 🤮 depiction of physical illness 🧸 fluff 💔 angst 💣 relationship angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🐍 depiction of toxic family 🔏 not edited 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

Neon Sticky Notes

reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

word count: 2.4k+

🧸 fluff 🥰 romance 🙊 probably general language warning 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

Affirmation King

attending university as a full-time student is hard, but your boyfriend makes some of the stress worth it.

word count: 3.1k+

🧸 fluff 🙊 general language warning 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

Campus Breakdown

after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.

word count: 1.6k+

🧸 fluff ❤️‍🩹 small hurt and comfort 💔 teeny tiny angst 🙊 general language warning 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

Silence

anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.

word count: 2.5k+

🎭 little drama (mostly tension) 💔 small angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🧸 small fluff 💣 small relationship angst 💍 established relationship 🐝 stand-alone / oneshot 🙊 general language warning 🥂 alcohol consumption 🫠 small depiction of self-destructing / deprecating thoughts 🧠 discussion of mental health (anxiety) 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

The Business That Pays You

not all disabilities are visible. being accosted for something out of your control angers the watchdog - your boyfriend, Carmy. plus a protective Carmy request.

word count: 4.5k+

note this is a disabled female reader! INVISIBLE disability!

🎭 drama 💔 little angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🐝 stand-alone / oneshot 🙊 general language warning 🩺 depiction of medical phenomenon / disability ✝️ Lord's name in vain 2️⃣ written after season two

read here

requesting rules and masterlist

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmy the bear #carmy #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #the bear masterlist #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto masterlist #queers gambit #queers gambit masterlist

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vashs-turtleneck · 11 months ago

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Blow Me a Kiss.

♡ A Vash the Stampede Christmas smut special 🎄

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: Cleaning up the decorations left over from your little holiday party, you get a little distracted by Vash standing under the mistletoe. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x reader Word Count: 2.4k Content: smut, pwp, established relationship, oral (m receiving) A/N: Tastefully late. Rushed this a bit so I hope it's okay!

NSFW BELOW, 18+ ONLY, MDNI!!

“Remind me again why we had to have the party in our room?”

“Our room is the biggest. We even have a dining table. I don't think we all would have been very happy if the only place we had to sit was Wolfwood's bed, mayfly.”

“Well Wolfwood didn't have to leave such a mess behind,” you grumble, collecting the empty cans of beer the priest left behind the night before. “Gonna kick his ass when I see him,” you add, hearing a chuckle leave Vash at your little threat.

It’s a few days after Christmas, and you and Vash are left to clean up the mess left over from the previous night’s festivities. The two of you had decided to do something a little special with the group, decorating your quaint little hotel room with whatever Christmas decorations you two were able to get your hands on, providing everyone with a break from the stresses of rolling with the humanoid typhoon, even for just a night. While running with the typhoon himself stopped the group from being able to celebrate the day of, there was certainly no lack of Christmas spirit when you finally did manage to settle down in a comfortable town and find the time to get a little festive.

You were especially happy to see some of the tension ease out of Vash’s shoulders as a result, having been granted a brief sense of normalcy that you know he so desperately craves, even if he never says it out loud. After all, nothing quite like spending the holiday season with your friends and loved ones to help you remember the good things in this life (until Wolfwood and Meryl start pestering each other, that is.)

“You had a nice time though, didn't you?” Vash asks from the other side of the room, taking down decorations while you collect empty bottles and dishes. While the two of you could technically leave room service to take care of the mess, neither of you were all too eager to pay the cleaning fee that would result in. Besides, there's something oddly comforting about being able to do something as mundane as clean up after a party with Vash. The mundane is a rare occurrence with him, so you savor it when it's around.

“Of course I did," you reply sincerely, watching him from the corner of your eye, shamelessly ogling him any moment you get as his long arms effortlessly reach up towards the ceiling to take down some hanging paper Christmas decor, the stretch pulling his shirt up slightly with his arms, teasing you with a tiny peek at his tummy.

Damn it. How does he always manage to get you all hot and bothered? He’s not even trying!

You watch as Vash walks under the doorway with the hanging mistletoe, his head tilted up to look at it, a little pout formed on his face.

“A shame this didn’t get any use last night. No one respected the rules of the mistletoe.” He says with a sigh and a subtle shake of his head.

“Wolfwood and Roberto didn’t look all too pleased when they walked under it together.” You giggle, recalling the look of shock and disgust the two men gave each other when they found themselves standing beneath the mistletoe, Vash chiming out a teasing and giddy “Ohh! You two need to kiss now!!”

Of course, they didn't, to everyone's dismay.

“Rules are rules.” Vash says very matter-of-factly. “What's the point of a mistletoe if you're just going to ignore the rules? There's no fun in that.”

“Of course, of course. You're so right.” You say back to him playfully, walking up to him and resting your palms on his tapered waist “Speaking of which…” You coo, pointing to the mistletoe hanging above his head.

Vash's eyes twinkle with delight, knowing already where you're pointing to without having to look, keeping his azure eyes trained on your face. “Oh, well would you look at that. I guess you owe me a kiss now, mayfly.” A cocky smirk plastered over his face.

“Rules are rules.” You lean up towards him, his lips already puckered and waiting to meet yours, his head tilted down towards you. His baby blues half-closed as he waits for you to close off the distance between your lips.

Just as you’re both about to close your eyes, lips just centimeters apart, you see a blur of green fall between the two of you. Vash's reflexes are all too fast, catching the falling item in his flesh hand.

“Whoop– Caught it!” Vash exclaims, opening up his palm, showing the fallen mistletoe in his hand. “Aww… Does this mean I don’t get a kiss anymore?” He whines, pushing out his bottom lip in a cute little pout.

Your eyes stay fixed on the mistletoe in his palm, holding it in his open hand down by his hips, and a rather lewd idea pops into your head– Something to help ease your boyfriend of any remaining tension he's carrying.

“Mayfly?” Vash interrupts your thoughts, pulling you out of the lustful haze clouding your mind. “Something wrong, angel?”

You stop gawking at the front of his pants, your eyes rising to meet his. He has a confused and awaiting look on his face as he tries to gauge what it is you're thinking. Without giving him the chance to even ask, you take the mistletoe from his palm, tugging him by the arm and guiding him to the bed just a few feet away, eliciting a startled little yelp from the humanoid typhoon.

You pull him until he stands with his back to the bed. You can see him about to bring his hands up to reach for you, an obvious look of confusion panting his handsome face. Before he's given the chance to touch you, your palm presses to the front of his shirt and pushes him, forcing Vash to sit back on the bed.

“W-Woah! Hey! What’s gotten into you, mayfly?” He exclaims, part of him admittedly a bit startled by your sudden change in behavior, but the other part of him secretly enjoying being manhandled by you.

You don't answer him as you gently bring yourself to your knees in front of him, hands pressing his thighs apart to give you ample space to settle yourself.

“O-Oh…” Vash visibly gulps at the sight of you kneeled in front of him, his face starting to flush a pretty scarlet, flustered by the implications of how you’re positioned. He can already feel just how much the blood is rushing to his face.

And to his cock.

“I didn't mean to startle you, just had an idea,” you whisper sensually, innocently, your hand caressing his parted thigh as you stare up at him. “This okay?”

“Yeah… Of course it's okay.” Vash's voice is already starting to tremble, unbelievably aroused by the suddenness of your actions, his palms clenching and unclenching on the bed.

You hook the mistletoe to the front of his belt, right by the tent starting to form where his cock strains against the zipper. Then, you bring your head forward, allowing yourself to gently nuzzle your face against the front of his pants, feeling his quickly hardening cock ghost over your lips and cheek through the fabric.

“Shit, mayfly.” Vash grunts, half-lidded eyes focused on the delicious view in front of him, his entire lower half tensing with anticipation of what his lovely mayfly has in store for him.

“Let me give you a little kiss?” You say innocently before pressing your lips against the hard cock under his pants, keeping your eyes fixed on him as you do just to tease him further. He hisses through clenched teeth, fingers gripping into the bedsheets as he tries to stifle the moan rumbling in his chest.

“Was kinda hoping for more than just a kiss.” He whines, his hips inadvertently arching to meet the pressure of your pretty face against his cock.

“Hmm… You're lucky all this Christmas spirit has me feeling generous,” you purr, teasing him a bit more before you place another kiss to the tent in his pants, eliciting another soft whimper from the blonde. “Help me get these down a bit, yeah?”

Vash only nods his head frantically as two eager pairs of hands swiftly move to unbuckle and unzip his pants. His hips rise to help you shimmy the fabric off him just enough to free his aching dick, which bursts out of his boxers so quickly it lightly taps your chin. Your teasing seems to have paid off, as his dangerously thick and long cock stands at attention, already dripping with cloudy beads of precum from the angry red tip.

“So hard already," you coo, wrapping a soft hand around his weeping cock and guiding him to your lips, immediately feeling Vash's thighs tense with anticipation.

“Of course I am. It's you after all," Vash whispers back all too sweetly, glossy blue eyes filled with nothing but adoration for you, so beautifully nestled between his thighs.

He watches as your glossy tongue teasingly runs along the length of his throbbing cock, tracing the large and angry vein he has trailing up his shaft. With your saliva generously coating him, your fist pumps him from the tip to the base, your thumb carefully pressing against the head and earning a precious whimper from the outlaw. A breath of relief leaves him when you finally wrap your soft lips over the tip of his cock, gracing him with the warmth of your tongue and mouth.

“F-Fuck.” Vash curses under his breath, his warm, calloused hand gently moving to cup your jaw, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek as you pamper him.

You mewl as you take Vash's twitching cock deeper into the tight channel of your throat, tasting the savory spurts of precum he's gushing into your mouth so liberally. Your pleased hums send vibrations through his all-too-sensitive dick that have him letting out a shaky exhale, his grip on your jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“Goddamn it. Oh please, please…” Vash mewls, his voice coming out as a weak, whimpering sob. “So goddamn good, angel. ‘M not gonna last long if you keep being so perfect.”

His praise sends a rush of tingling heat to your core which only encourages you to pleasure him more passionately, taking his cock down to the base into your greedy mouth until his cute blonde happy trail is tickling your face. You lavish his thick cock with your lips and tongue, your deep moans vibrating through him and shaking him to the marrow.

“E-Easy, baby… Don't push yourself too far.”

Choked gasps and moans leave his parted lips and you feel his hand tighten its grip on your jaw, a sweet, broken symphony of agonized whimpers fill the otherwise silent hotel room along with the sound of wet sucking coming from your lips. His hips stutter, desperately wanting to pump himself into your sweet mouth, but he stills himself, not wanting to accidentally hurt you for the sake of his own pleasure.

"A-Aahh– Feels so good, angel. That's it. Taking me so well... ngh!"

His breaths break, deep, guttural moans and choked whimpers flowing unabashedly off his lips, and you know he's dangerously close. You focus your lips on the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue over the head and hollowing your cheeks as you pump his shaft.

“G-Gonna come, mayfly. Shit– Please don't stop!”

Like you would ever stop.

The pleasure is too much for him to hold back, and he begins to lightly thrust his cock into your mouth in tandem with your rhythm, his moans echoing off the walls with every pump of his hips.

Fuck– you are absolutely reeling. Seeing him giving in to his pleasure, allowing himself to take what you are so happy to give him has your thighs quivering with arousal.

You moan with complete abandon as you lavish and worship his cock, letting him press himself into the deep, tight heat of your throat, ignoring the slight ache you feel with every little thrust of his hips. Waves of ecstacy crash against his body, harmonizing with the rhythmic tempo of your loving mouth engulfing his cock over and over until he's thrown over the edge.

Vash comes with a deep moan that rumbles in his heaving chest, hot strings of cum flooding your mouth. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head, refusing to miss even a second of the sight of you so lovingly servicing him, watching as you swallow his load with an eagerness that leaves him swooning. What he ever did to deserve you, he'll never know.

You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth as empties himself into your throat, doing your best to swallow everything he has to give you. A mixture of your own saliva and his cum pools at the corner of your mouth, dripping down your lips and along his shaft, which you of course lap until you've swallowed every bit you could.

With one last kiss to his cock, you raise yourself off the floor, moving to straddle your boyfriend's lap and sit on his parted legs. Vash’s chest is heaving, breaths labored and shaky, eyes never leaving you as you rise to meet him. He brings his thumb to the corner of your mouth, wiping away the slick mixture of spit and cum you have dripping down your face in an act of gratitude.

“You're breathtaking, angel. Literally.” Vash whispers hoarsely, pulling his thumb away from your mouth.

In response, you grab his wrist, pressing your tongue to his thumb and licking away the remnants of his seed from it, earning a completely obscene moan from the humanoid typhoon.

“Fuck, you're so–” He doesn't finish his words before he's smothering your lips with his own. You swallow Vash's pleasured groan, his calloused hand gently cupping your cheek and holding your face close to his, swirling his tongue in your mouth and tasting himself on your lips.

Vash's kisses are always so warm, so sincere, so passionate, that you don't immediately notice what his prosthetic is up to until you feel the cool metal of one of his fingers ghost over your lower abdomen. Your lips part when you tilt your head down to see what he's doing, seeing the mistletoe hanging from the hem of your own pants now.

“Well would you look at that.” Vash breathes against your cheek, and when your eyes meet his again, you note how glazed over and lust-filled those baby blues are.

“Rules are rules, mayfly.”

divider.

#vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash x you #vash x reader #vash smut #vash the stampede x reader smut #vash the stampede smut #vash the stampede x you smut #trigun smut #pipwrites

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captain-joongz · 2 months ago

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starting off the second half of hard hours week with a doozy, this one is my favourite haha. a reminder that my inbox is OPEN for any hard hours asks, so don't be shy and come talk!

HARD HOURS THOUGHTS

warnings: e2l, coworker!Jin, kinda hate sex, backshots, restriction, cum play, degradation, possessive jin

when Seokjin joined your office, it was the event of the whole month - everyone was gushing over the handsome, collected and friendly man that swept every lady right off of her feet. but for some reason, while he was always sweet and kind to everyone, he just seemed to absolutely hate your guts

you had no idea what you did to warrant his distaste, but even after several attempts to smooth your relationship over he still continued to treat you coldly. so you returned it, and then some more

your coworkers somehow were none-the-wiser to your petty passive aggressive squabbles, and you two always managed to look civil, but the tensions were rising, every day, until you weren't even sure what you were arguing about

it was obvious it would all end up blowing up in your faces - and all it took was a Christmas party that Jin offered to host at his place. at that point you two were unfriendly and petty to each other for months, too long for you to not be absolutely pissed off about his nice expensive apartment, so after a few drinks you were just sitting in the corner with a sour expression that wasn't lost on Jin

as fate has it, of course by the end of the night you'd somehow end up being the last one present after everyone left, getting stuck with helping with the cleanup after some meddling well-meaning coworkers roped you into it

you did expect to get into a fight, after all both of you were tired, sobering up and getting cranky, you'd find something to argue over, but what you didn't expect was the fight ending up with you pressed against a wall in his living room with his tongue down your throat

"you're always so fucking mouthy, being such a fucking brat"

you'd never heard the man swear before, but you definitely weren't opposed to this side he suddenly sprung up on you

and you were even less tempted to complain when you ended up bent over the table, Jin pressing you down into the wood by your hands and your neck while he railed you into the piece of furniture. you barely even had time to be confused about the sudden switch in attitude, too busy moaning on his cock while the man lost himself to fucking you

it didn't take long before you were cumming your brains out, drooling under Jin as he chased his own pleasure. but he wouldn't cum inside you, no. just as you felt his cock throb he'd pull out and cum all over your ass, thighs and even get some on your hastily pulled up skirt

and even as you'd snark at him for being a fucking bastard and an arrogant ass, you'd already be losing yourself to the feel of his fingers possessively rubbing his cum over your skin while he smirked at you

the next day you'd come to work, after storming out of his house the night before, and you'd share a single glance with him, and you'd know that before that day ended, you'd be repeating that little romp locked inside some cramped forgotten storage room

divider taken from @cafekitsune

#hard hours #bts hard hours #bts smut #seokjin smut

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myhughniverse · 11 months ago

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#Kylie Minogue #Kylie Merchandise #Christmas Collection #Tension Christmas Collection #Kylie Store #Kylie's IG story #The One and Only Kylie

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konigsrose · 3 months ago

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König x unhappily married reader Pt 4

I may have let this one get inadvertently long… but this is the last stop on our journey to filth, and the penultimate chapter! Tomorrow, there will be plenty of smut to be had. AO3 LINK

———————————

You had largely been avoiding Colonel König since your birthday, and the brief moment of tension between you two in his office. Of course, you had to remain professional, you spoke in passing where necessary, but you had been very strict with yourself about not visiting his office any more than was strictly required to do your job. It had been almost a month, and it was almost Christmas now, and though you had managed to remain professional at work, your nights were still filled with thoughts of him, no matter how hard you tried to reject those fantasies. Today, however, you were forced to interact with him, in a way that would certainly not help with your fantasies. A little after midday one of the higher-ups from another team had stormed into König’s office looking for him, a file in hand; he had found the room empty, and with your desk the closest one, rounded on you to find out where the Colonel was.

“He’s in the gym, Sir, on his lunch break,” you had squeaked, knowing König’s routine by heart. The other man had huffed in annoyance, thrown the file onto your desk, and barked an order at you. “Take this down to him and get him to sign it. It needs to be with the courier by 1!” You had thought about arguing, making some excuse for why you couldn’t possibly be the one to do this task… But it was your job, and you weren’t about to be reprimanded for failing to follow such a simple order. You couldn’t exactly say “no, Sir, because I’m in love with him and seeing him in the gym might destroy me.” And so, you had picked up the file, and tottered down the three flights of stairs in your heels to the basement, where the gym was.

You hovered at the glass door for a moment, scanning the room for the Colonel. He was not hard to find, especially when he dropped the huge weights he was lifting with a crash that shook the room, on seeing you entering the gym. He had felt embarrassed about that, he wasn’t usually the type to crash around in the gym, preferring calm and collected efficiency… but it had been a while since you’d been alone together, and the sight of you, blushing as you approached him, the only two people in the gym, had shocked him into poor manners.

“Colonel, Sir, I, um, sorry, to disturb you, I…” you stammered, holding the file in front of you as if it were a shield. You tried not to let your eyes linger on those bulging muscles, the tight vest, the little beads of sweat. You felt the heat in your core, and desperately tried to ignore it. “There’s no need for the colonel, or the sir, you know my name and you’re allowed to use it,” König grinned, his heart fluttering at the sight of you, so obviously flustered. “And you’re not disturbing me,” he wiped his sweating forehead with a towel, and you couldn’t help a little tremble at the sight of his arm flexing as he did it. “What did you need?”

The initial response that went through your mind was pretty simple - you, Colonel, are what I need, especially sweating and flexing like that. You are everything that I need, and more, you thought, as your eyes raked over his body, even without your willing them to. You squashed the treacherous thought and managed to stammer a more suitable response. “You, si- Colonel- König,” you almost choked on the words, “I mean - I need you - to, um, sign this, please? It needs to be with the courier by 1pm.” You held out the file and a pen, your hand trembling, your eyes darting between the file, the pen, and König. He smiled coolly, and took both file and pen from your shaking fingers, brushing his far larger ones briefly against yours.

He signed the file quickly, his eyes passing swiftly over the contents, before throwing out a question as if entirely offhand, and barely interested. “Will I see you tonight, at the Christmas party?” His eyes briefly flicked to your face as he returned the file and pen. “Yes, sir- I mean, yes, König.” You felt your cheeks heating even more, and prayed he couldn’t tell. “Your husband coming too?” König’s eyebrow raised in interrogation, and you felt your heart sink at the question. “I’m afraid so,” you shrug, trying to play the words as a joke. You were surprised when he grinned, the grin not unlike a shark who has just tasted blood in the water. “I’m glad. I’m looking forward to meeting him.” There was a hint of a threat in the words, and calmly, he turned back to his weights, easily lifting some so heavy they probably weighed twice as much as your husband. You practically fled the gym, and back to your desk, where you spent the rest of the day turning his words over in your mind.

They continued to fill your head as you began to get ready for the party that evening. You couldn’t remember the last time you put this much effort into your appearance… but the thought of König finally seeing you in something other than your work clothes sent a thrill through you. You did your hair and makeup perfectly, far better than you usually would, taking time with every step. You pulled a dress from the back of your wardrobe; you hadn’t had an opportunity to wear it in years, and as you tugged it on, you thanked any god listening that it still fitted. You had to admit, you looked pretty damn great in it; deep red satin, tight fitting, low cut, and curve enhancing. Once upon a time, your husband probably would have begged to get you out of it; now he barely glanced at you as you walked into the living room, where he waited, playing on his phone. There was no conversation as you sat in the taxi on the way there, and your mind was filled more with thoughts of König, than the uncomfortable silence between you and your husband, that had become so familiar now it was hardly even uncomfortable any more.

When you entered the room the party was held in, the first thing you did was scan it for König, your eyes desperately seeking him out. He wasn’t hard to find, of course, given his size, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way his jaw went slack, and his eyes widened as he looked at you. He practically jumped from his seat, and strode across the room towards you. “Wow,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down to embrace you in welcome. He paused in the hug for a moment, just long enough to whisper three more words before pulling away. “You look stunning.” You could feel his breath against your cheek, and smell his cologne; it made your heart pound in your chest. Your face flushed, and you grinned up at him with eyes wide and adoring as he pulled away. Your husband loitered at your side, hands in his pockets, looking bored already, not even attempting to arrange his face into a false look of interest.

“And this must be the husband,” König plastered a false smile on his face, though his teeth were bared, and it looked more like a growl. “The” husband, not “your” husband, he thought to himself; and not for much longer, with any luck, the bastard. Your husband nodded, and introduced himself with an arrogance and disinterest barely short of being obviously rude, and began to look around for something more interesting; he spotted a table of drinks, with a pretty young waitress nervously beside it, and excused himself.

“He seems like an asshole,” König grunted, when your husband had left at speed, whether attracted by the drinks or the waitress, it was anyone’s guess; probably both. “You’ve got that right,” you rolled your eyes, “hopefully he’ll make out with the waitress in front of everyone, and I’ll have decent grounds for divorce,” you tried to laugh, as though this was an hilarious joke, and not a plea for help. “My offer to get rid of him still stands, liebling,” König joined the laughter, though for both of you it was hollow. It was König, not your husband, who led you to the drinks, letting your arm rest on his. For much of the evening you sat together, surrounded by other colleagues, chatting, laughing, drinking happily. Your husband seemed far more interested in hovering around the table of welcome champagne, taking as many as he wanted, and bothering the waitress.

It had been an hour, and he hadn’t left that table. He had drunk an embarrassing number of glasses of champagne, and not once bought a drink at the bar. You physically cringed as you saw him trying to slip his arm around the waitress’s waist, leaning in close to her. You know you had joked about it with König earlier, but seeing it really happening made you feel sick. You weren’t jealous; you’d meant it when you said if he could have an affair that would make your life a lot easier, and give you a perfect excuse to leave him… but right now, in front of everyone you worked with? You were grateful you seemed to be the only one who noticed, as you scanned the crowd, yours were the only eyes looking at them… No, not the only eyes. König’s eyes were fixed on your husband and the young waitress, who admittedly looked as if she needed rescuing, and was not enjoying your husband’s attempts at flirting. You watched as König silently rose from his chair, and walked towards the pair.

You considered following, protesting, doing something, but you felt utterly frozen in your seat as you watched König put an arm around your husband’s shoulder, leaning down to say something in his ear. Your husband looked for a moment like he might put up a fight, but you saw König’s hand clench on his shoulder, a wince of pain… and the two men heading for the door. At that moment, one of your colleagues arrived at your table with cocktails in hand; when you next looked up König and your husband were nowhere to be seen.

König guided the man outside with a firm grip, and a few words hissed into his ear. He had seen enough; not just tonight, but over the months you had worked with him. He would not allow you to be disrespected like this, openly, in front of others. It was bad enough how poorly your husband treated you in private, the little snippets of your relationship he had heard of, the days you had arrived at work in tears… But to willingly and blatantly embarrass you in public? That was a step too far; the way König saw it, this pathetic little Arschloch had had plenty of time to save himself, and his marriage.

Outside the building, König released his vice-like grip on your husband, and stood calmly beside him, looking up at the night sky as if entirely uninterested. “You have two choices; I’m not an unreasonable man, and there are always choices to be made. You can either be her ex-husband, or her late husband; it’s up to you which.” The words were delivered coolly, without a hint of emotion. “You can’t threaten-“ your husband began, the champagne clearly giving him an idiotic surge of courage in the face of the giant before him. “It is not a threat, it is a choice,” König cut in and shrugged, which somehow only seemed to emphasise the bulk of his shoulders. “And a promise,” he added, turning with a stare that sent an icy shiver down your husband’s spine. “I would suggest that perhaps, while I enjoy a drink or two more with that beautiful woman inside, you get in a taxi, go home, and collect anything you think you’ll need. When I drop her at home at midnight, I expect she’ll find a note explaining your departure, or something like that.” These words were spoken just as casually, as if a mere suggestion, not an order.

“And you’ll take her to our bed, to comfort her, I suppose,” your husband spat, though his expression was more like a sulking child than an enraged, cuckolded husband. He had long given up caring about you, that was clear… but he had some pride left, if not any actual desire. “Not tonight, no. I am a real man, and a gentleman, unlike you,” König spoke the words lightly, as if they were of no more importance than passing the time of day. “I would not take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, especially when she’s been drinking.”

Your husband snorted at that, a noise of derision and disbelief, that made König’s fists itch. It was only the knowledge that you had not given him permission to punch this little weasel into a pulp that stayed his hands. He took a breath, and calmed himself. “When she’s sober, and has had time to think about things… If she wants me, I’ll show her how a real man treats a woman as good as her. She won’t even be able to remember your name.” A small smile lifted the corners of König’s lips, at the thought of how he would worship you, given the chance. “I’m done with her anyway,” your husband’s words are venomous, and he begins to walk away, towards the row of taxis a little way outside the building. König watched him, his expression utterly detached. “Midnight, remember? If you’re still there then, you’ve made your choice,” he called, hardly raising his voice at all. Your husband didn’t say another word, only shot a look of utmost contempt towards König, who watched him get into a taxi, before returning inside, to you.

“I put him in a taxi home,” he murmured into your ear, “and suggested he may wish to consider his future as your husband, if he’s going to to treat you that way.” “You didn’t hurt him, did you?” There was almost a tone of hope in your voice, that was not well-disguised as concern. König huffed a laugh at that. “No, liebling, but if you’d like me to, I would?” You smiled in response, and looped your arm around his, your hand gently laying on the thick muscle of his forearm. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Kö. But maybe I could buy you a drink, to say thank you for rescuing me?” “Absolutely not,” König began to walk you to the bar. “The drinks are on me,” he unlooped his arm from yours, and slipped his hand onto your lower back instead, guiding you. “We’re celebrating, after all,” he grinned. As you felt the heat of his hand on your back, and the lurch of butterflies in your stomach, you couldn’t help but agree; this was a time to celebrate, after all.

#konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig fanfiction #könig #könig call of duty #König x you #konig x reader #konig x you #König x unhappily married #konig x unhappily married

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landoom · 9 months ago

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F1 FANFICS REC LIST - Landoscar AU's

(this list doesn't contain Highschool/Uni AU's as there will be another list dedicated to those)

Capturing Your Heart With A Loud Click. (12088 words) by cxrnlia Rating: Mature Summary: Oscar is the guy at the park who takes walks to calm down, Lando is the guy who takes pictures at the park, but can't help but take pictures of Oscar instead.

oOoOoOo

what’s up, danger? (can’t stop me now) (12648 words) by startosphere Rating: General Audiences Summary: “What type of race?” He lets his phone down on his thigh, focusing fully on the conversation and suddenly more interested. “The type that you can’t do, y’know?” George says with a suspicious grin. Lando tilts his head because what in the world are they even talking about? ”We’re talking about street races, Lando,” Charles takes pity on him and starts a little explanation, “There are laws against it so you better shut up about this, I mean it, could get Oscar in real trouble.” Lando can’t help but let out a huff. Perhaps he slept on the couch and this is all some type of strange nightmare, it doesn’t seem right when his brain starts collecting and comprehending what they just told him, for some reason, he can’t believe that. Or, Oscar is a street racing driver, and Lando needs to see before believing.

oOoOoOo

You Bring Me Closer to God (9808 words) by wanderingblindly Rating: Mature Summary:

They’re still close enough to whisper, Lando’s hand holding him in place as he grins wildly. “You like it rough, Osc?”

He doesn’t even care if it’s just a bit, just Lando’s stage persona washing over him like it does all his fans. Looking up at Lando, looking at the lipstick he smeared across his cupid’s bow and chin – it’s like he’s seen god. Felt it on his lips, tasted it on his tongue. Oscar grabs him by the nape of the neck without a second thought, pulling them together just as viciously as the first time.

Or: In which Lando is a very slutty front-man for a small band seeking their big break, Oscar is an enamored bartender, and Jenson's bar brings them together.

oOoOoOo

come feel this magic (i've been feeling since i met you) (10670 words) by lemonadedino Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Lando is a faerie and doesn't know it Oscar is unequivocally in love with him and figures it out along the way

oOoOoOo

mistletoe wishes (5519 words) by 14CookiesGone Rating: General Audiences Summary: Oscar glances up and he sees the offender. The small sprig of green and white that Lando has been trying to avoid all evening, that they’re now standing directly underneath. They have two options. They can laugh it off and ignore it, despite the fact they’ve been playing at being doting boyfriends all evening. Or - OR Lando asks Oscar to be his fake date to his office Christmas party. It turns out to be a little more than fake.

oOoOoOo

the pacemaker blues (2233 words) by Anonymous Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Carefully, slowly, Oscar moved to the other end of the couch, trying not to show the tension he felt. “So you got yourself cursed?” Lando yelped and dropped his phone. It laid on the floor, suddenly dead. “Shit.”

oOoOoOo

you wear it well (2080 words) by Anonymous Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “I need to borrow one of your hoodies,” Lando says, as he makes his way into Oscar’s apartment and flops down on the couch, kicking off his shoes in the process. Oscar squints suspiciously in his direciton. “Why?” Lando sits up so his head pokes over the back of the couch. “Because I need George and Alex to think I have a boyfriend."

oOoOoOo

invocations one fall away from the concrete (10561 words) by debrief Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?” “Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ‘Birth date’ square though. Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper. Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”

oOoOoOo

carried away (22168 words) by venerat Rating: Explicit Summary: "Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

oOoOoOo

only found (6872 words) by debrief Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: “Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically. Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?” -- cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

oOoOoOo

soft vanilla foreplay (7035 words) by Anonymous Rating: Mature Summary: “Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.” Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?” Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”

@hc-dutch

(let me know if you want to be tagged in my upcoming reclists!)

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #mclaren #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri #landoscar #f1 rpf fic #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic rec #fic rec list #rec list #fic rec

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sunflowervoltwentyeight · 6 months ago

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Happy 28th! Here is my May 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

We Were Such Fools by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (98k)

Rule #1: The Rewind Machine cannot be used to change the past, only to experience it. History will reset itself to the original timeline every 24 hours.

On his fiftieth birthday, two things are consuming Harry’s mind: what he’s going to make the kids for dinner tonight, and the fact that his marriage is crumbling at his feet.

So, when his best friend gifts him the trip of a lifetime, Harry chooses to venture off to the summer that set his life on its course—all the way back in 1987, California.

It only took him one summer to fall in love with his husband the first time around. How hard could starting all over really be?

Once Bitten and Twice Shy Series by pinkcords / @pinkcords (60k)

once bitten and twice shy (19k) This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended. These Stars Will Guide Us Home (41k) And then he’s gonre. Harry watches him take off his shoes, sort his belongings into bins, and keeps watching until he vanishes entirely, around the corner to his gate. Louis doesn’t look back and Harry can’t blame him, certain his expression, body language, entire being would implore him to stay. It would just make it more difficult on both of them. Louis’ always been intuitive like that, strong enough to make the hard decisions that protect both of them. Or Harry lives in New York and Louis lives in Wisconsin.

Cabin Fever by germericangirl / @germericangirl (46k)

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or:

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

You, In Every Color by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (38k)

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

We'll Be Alright by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove (36k)

"Lou, I know this-"

"Not plan? Of course, this wasn't planned. Harry, this can't be happening. We can't have a kid. We are not even supposed to be sleeping together."

Harry flinched at Louis' words. He was right, but Louis didn't need to be blunt about it.

"I'm not ready to have kids. I said that when we started this… Relationship," Louis stuttered the last word, trying to find the proper wording.

"Do you think I am? I'm not even twenty-four. You are almost twenty-nine! You're at the age where most people start a family."

"Doesn't mean I want to have one!" Louis snapped.

"Well, it's happening," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Be serious, Harry. We can't have a baby. If people find out, you'll be fired."

Harry subconsciously wrapped his arms around his middle. He suddenly felt small. He didn't expect Louis to be excited. This wasn't the best news for their situation, but he thought he'd be happy.

"I know, Louis."

Or Louis is the Captian of Liverpool FC and Harry is one of the team's physiotherapists. They have a secret relationship going but things become complicated when Harry finds out he's pregnant.

Host of a Name by Signofcomfort / @signofcomfort (35k)

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

Cabin on the Bluff Series by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (6k)

Beech Tree in Autumn (1k) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree. Louis presses further still. Without so much as a, 'hello,' he's kissing Harry, hard and hungry. Mosquito Bites and Cheap Beer (2k) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. But then the sky behind Louis begins to shift, clouds morphing from piles of gold-tinged wool to scoops of pink and orange sherbet. And at some point, Harry forgets-- forgets not to watch. And when he catches himself, it’s fine. Louis’ watching him right back. Sandwiches on the Shady Shore (2k) “You don’t have to do this,” Louis says. It’s hot in the little kitchen, even with the windows open and a breeze blowing in. Harry feels a flush enfold him from the inside out. “I know,” he says. And then, because he’s already showed up embarrassingly early in the day and made Louis a cheese sandwich, he adds, “I wanted to.”

Trust Me to Take You Home by hattalove / @hattalove (4k)

“I made breakfast,” says Harry, and Louis can feel him smile where his face is smushed against Louis’s shoulder blade. “Full English. All for you.” Louis finally opens his eyes, and blinks. “What about the others?” “Asleep,” Harry whispers, “it’s five in the morning.”

or, a clichéd tale of two boys in love and their first valentine's day together.

#28th appreciation #may fic rec #monthly fic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec #hlcreators #read

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jiyeonnnn · 2 years ago

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ANTITHETICAL, lty, jjh <33

pairing | l. ty & j. jh x m!r

synopsis | you have always loved wearing skirts secretly, but what happens if your antithetical step brothers see you wearing one?

cw | cross dressing, pet names (baby, angel, sweets, slut, etc.,) rough smut, multiple rounds, pseudo incest, degradation, praise, taeyong kisses you a lot, jaehyun is a btch, ass slapping, spit roasting, double penetration, unprotected intercourse, 3.2k words 💀

you have always gotten along with your step brothers ever since they took you in from that orphanage you call hellhole. at first, you thought that they would adopt you so that they could have an assistant or a slave that will do all the things for them seeing how intimidating these two brothers, taeyong and jaehyun, look, but you thought wrong.

six years have passed since they adopted you, you experienced nothing but a good relationship with them. you felt loved and taken care of throughout your whole life— the parental love that you've been longing for, along with the support and love from your dear brothers, there's nothing more you could ever wish for.

jaehyun and taeyong are glad to have you as well. you have been there during their ups and downs— lifting them up from their sorrows and problems with a lovely personality, not to mention your amazing cooking skills that leave them nothing but amazed by the way you cook your food. they feel so lucky… feel so lucky to the point that they feel more than what a good big brother must feel towards his step sibling.

it was a fairly normal night inside the household; jaehyun and taeyong playing video games on the sofa while your parents are preparing themselves for a week-long vacation abroad for christmas, while you, on the other hand, are trying some things that your best friend, ningning, have sent you— skirts and lingeries. as crazy as it seems, you have found yourself fond of this kind of stuff, probably because of your group of friends as well, but that's for another story— and you don't want anyone else in your family to know about this.

"oh wow— this looks so good on me~" you mumbled as you complimented yourself, and you're not wrong, the mini skirt looks very good on you. you twirled around the mirror, giggling happily as you have found something again to put in your collection of skirts. however, due to your busyness, you didn't notice the sets of eyes fixated on your body as you twirled and turned around in that skirt— it is only that you noticed your step brothers inside your room the moment you heard your door get closed and the click of your lock.

"my, my, my, dongsaeng~ i didn't know you're interested in this kind of stuff~" jaehyun approached you with a wild smirk on his face. you don't know whether you should feel scared or aroused by his actions and expressions that you absentmindedly stepped back nonstop until you're cornered against the wall.

"aish, jaehyun-ah~ don't scare our cute brother like that~ look at him enjoying himself with that beautiful skirt of his~ isn't he pretty?" taeyong intervened as he gently took your hand and pulled you close to him. he kissed your forehead which made you feel all flustered, and it didn't help that jaehyun went behind you and started kissing your nape.

"you're right, taeyong-ah~ our step brother looks so pretty with his skirt~ i wonder, what can we do with him now that mom and dad's finally away?" jaehyun spoke with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. the man behind you then gropes your ass, causing you to whimper softly against taeyong's neck.

"so cute and vulnerable~ we'll have some fun playing with him, jaehyun-ah~" you could feel the tension building up inside your room as taeyong carried you by your legs. he sat down on the edge of your bed before straddling you on his lap, jaehyun following after. you looked deeply into taeyong's eyes lovingly— god how beautiful those orbs are— as you felt your lips connect with his.

the feeling was sensational— all the butterflies inside your stomach started to go wild the moment your eldest step brother started kissing you. the kiss was soft and vanilla, you could feel taeyong's gentleness with the way his lips and tongue danced with your mouth, and it made you moan softly.

you pulled away for a moment to take a breather— "h-hyung— this is wrong—" you tried to protest only for you to be cut off by jaehyun, who is already topless. "it shouldn't feel that good then, little boy~" jaehyun stated before taking you away from taeyong's lap.

jaehyun then laid you down on the bed and pinned your wrists down before kissing you. unlike taeyong, jaehyun's kiss was wild and reckless. his dominance is all over you as he didn't even let you adjust to his tongue exploring your mouth. jaehyun was aggressive— the way his lips dance with yours is something impeccable that it left you breathless in a matter of seconds.

you felt so helpless, yet so good under him— it really is a dream come true— it is also one of your secrets that you have a crush on both of them, but you were too afraid to confess, and now that they're holding you like this, there's no way that you'll let this slide.

jaehyun pulled away before taking your oversized t-shirt off. taeyong, on the other hand, stripped his shirt off as he sat down next to your laying body. "do we have your consent, baby boy?" taeyong asked softly.

"y-yes, hyungs~ y-you have my consent~" you answered which made the smirk on their faces grow wider. like a doll, jaehyun once again took you off from that position and sat you up. both of them adjusted themselves as they took their sweatpants and underwear off, and god were they big.

taeyong chuckled at your flushed reaction, "like what you see, pretty boy?" he teased while tapping his cock on his palm.

"is that still being asked? he likes it for sure~ right, little slut?" you were taken aback by the derogatory remark of jaehyun, but you were still turned on nonetheless, resulting in you nodding eagerly.

both of them chuckled at your adorable response before putting you on all fours. "just tell us your colors, all right, baby? we'll make things fit for you~" taeyong reassured you before going in front of you. jaehyun, meanwhile, went behind you where he started using his fingers to prepare you.

jaehyun's immediate actions caused you to release uncontrollable moans as you felt your prostate being hit repeatedly. seeing your reactions, taeyong, who is in front of you, pulled you closer in for a kiss to ease your discomfort, which he was successful in doing.

as your tongue twirls around taeyong's, jaehyun has already added a third finger inside you, making you whimper again and again inside the kiss. you departed your lips from taeyong's the moment you felt jaehyun take his fingers out of you.

"that should be enough for a slutty whore like you~" you heard him say. if anything, you expect yourself to feel a little degraded by the way jaehyun calls you by those names but you're feeling quite the opposite of what you had expected: arousal.

"you ready, baby boy~?" taeyong asked as he cupped your face. you responded with a small nod which made him smile a bit.

you looked deeply into taeyong's eyes, who was fisting his dick in front of you, stroking your hair as you gasp from the slow and painful intrusion of jaehyun's cock inside your hole.

"deep breaths, baby, ok? you're taking your jaehyun-hyung so good~" taeyong cooed as he caressed your face in hopes of helping you adjust to jaehyun's length, but to your misfortune, man behind you didn't give you enough time to adjust as spanked your ass while thrusting his whole length all at once, making you elicit a very loud moan.

"aren't you going to suck that cock in front of you, useless bitch?" jaehyun asked, pointing out taeyong's leaking cock on your face as he slapped your ass again. you could only whimper at this point, your mouth trembling due to the pleasure, before slowly taking your step hyung's length inside your mouth with your tongue skillfully swirling around his girthy cock, especially the tip.

taeyong moaned deeply in euphoria, his eyes deeply fixated on your figure taking his dick very well right now — highly turned on by how hot you look right now. the ecstatic feeling made him grip your hair as he began to thrust his hips softly, allowing you to look up at him with tears brimming your eyes.

as you start to bob your head, your clutch on the sheets tightens due to the relentless thrusts that jaehyun has been doing behind you, hitting your prostate consistently at every thrust, causing you moan and whimper messily around taeyong's dick— the feeling was just too good that you couldn't keep your mouth from spewing the lewdest noise you had ever made in your life.

taeyong couldn't help but groan while throwing his head back, the sensation, and vibrations sent by your moans all throughout his body just felt so good to him that it's impossible for him to put his moans to moderation.

"so good— fuck— you're doing so fucking good, pup~" taeyong praised as he continue to release breathy moans. the way his words ran through your ears aroused you even more, causing you to clench your hole tightly around jaehyun's cock.

you desperately wanted to hear those praises again — the addictive praises from taeyong that never failed to make you whimper more and more — so you decided to do your best to pleasure them more. you bobbed your head faster while clamping jaehyun's cock in between your walls greedily — so greedy that you don't care if you're starting to look like a desperate mess gagging and moaning on the cocks inside you.

"goddamn little slut—," jaehyun moaned and struck your prostate yet again, paddling you once more while he lost himself in how comfortable you felt with him and how graciously your hole embraced his cock.

taeyong strokes the hair sticking on your face as he goes on to slowly thrust his cock again inside your mouth, looking at you lovingly as he does so. "shhhh, don't listen to jaehyun-hyung, ok, angel? you're not a slut~" he reassured.

at this point, you couldn't care less what the both of them are saying— everything just feels so overwhelmingly good— you just want to do everything to make them feel the best as you chase your own high as well.

"look at your slutty hole tightening around me— fuck!— gonna cum for me like that?" jaehyun moaned. his fingernails started to dig deep into the skin of your hips as he roughly abused your prostate over and over. he then jerked the tip of your cock as he felt his own climax approaching soon, making you on taeyong's length.

"shit— baby— i'm gonna bust—!" taeyong moaned out loud, releasing his warm cum deep down the velvety walls of your throat. you moaned and panted around his length as you took him out of your mouth, heaving as you tried to collect yourself, however, the thrusts of jaehyun became too much for you to take in, driving you even closer to your climax.

riding out your high, your cum spurted everywhere, while jaehyun cummed inside you, before pulling out and releasing the rest of his load on your back.

"such a great boy you've been for us, pretty prince~" taeyong praised as he pushed 2 fingers inside your mouth, which you sucked on greedily. he giggled at you before pulling you into a loving kiss, allowing you to play with both of your spit and his cum inside your mouth before you swallowed it.

as you pull away, jaehyun immediately manhandles and faces you in front of him, "i hope you're not forgetting about me, little whore," jaehyun said as he kissed you roughly again. although surprised, it didn't take long for you to adjust to his roughness as you kissed him back with the same hunger.

the two of you kissed messily that you didn't notice taeyong behind you positioning himself to penetrate you as well. it is just then that you sensed his presence when you felt his tip start to enter you.

feeling the warmness and tightness of your hole, taeyong couldn't help but moan deeply in pleasure from how welcoming your hole felt the moment he entered you. "t-taking me so good, love~" taeyong praised again. his intrusion made you whimper against jaehyun's lip that led you to break the kiss.

"you can't even kiss me properly. you're just that dumb and pathetic, aren't you, bitch?" jaehyun degraded, smirking widely as he watched taeyong drive you to lay on your stomach.

"'m sorry, hyungie~" you apologized as you looked at him innocently deep in the eyes, but jaehyun wasn't buying it, instead, he slapped your face quite harshly. "instead of saying anything, why don't you just use your mouth into something more useful, huh?"

right immediately, you started taking his length at your own pace, but it was too slow for someone as impatient as jaehyun. in result, he decided to grip your hair and push you down deeper on his cock, causing you to gag on his humongous length as tears brimmed up your eyes.

"oh yeah~ just like that, bitch~" jaehyun groaned. you began bobbing your head at the pace jaehyun had set: fast and aggressive while swirling your tongue around his cock. his harsh grip on your head didn't easen— he held onto it for his dear life, thrusting occasionally as he enjoyed himself inside your warm mouth.

"fuck— fuck— that's it, y/n~" jaehyun moaned continuously just like that, repeating curses and your name again and again as he found pleasure in abusing your mouth.

meanwhile, taeyong continues to thrust into you at a very steady, and moderate pace, his hands holding your hips as he continues to spew out continuous praises.

"y-you're doing so good for us—fuck! it feels so good!" taeyong moaned as he bucked his hips a little harder, resulting in you moaning and struggling with taking jaehyun's length as he hit your prostate repeatedly.

seeing your response to his actions, taeyong couldn't help it but smirk devilishly at you as he went on to repeat his actions again and again. this has caused you to tear up as you choke and struggle on jaehyun's dick.

jaehyun gripped your hair harshly as he spat on your face. "the only thing you're asked to do is to pleasure me with your pathetic mouth, and you still can't do that right? what a useless little whore you are,"

"now, now, jaehyun-ah~ don't say things like that~ our little y/n has done so good for us~" taeyong stated as he abuse your prostate again, allowing you to moan and choke around jaehyun's cock— to which he responded with a harsh thrust into your throat continuously.

you may have been overly sensitive and seeing stars because you were being fucked by both of your step brothers, or perhaps it was because one of them was gentle and praised you the entire time while the other was brutal and insulted you. regardless, you were enjoying every minute of it.

because of taeyong's thrusts and the sensation, you choked on jaehyun's length, trying to make him feel wonderful while hearing him whimper. "i-i'm getting close!" taeyong whimpered once again. he started quickening his pace up, which made you moan and send vibrations up on your other step brother's, jaehyun's, cock— which sent him into an overdrive.

as you felt your own orgasm incoming, you clenched tightly around taeyong— moaning continuously around jaehyun's length as you looked up to him. "fucking slut~" jaehyun groaned as he let go of himself snd started facefucking you before releasing profusely deep inside your mouth.

you rode your high not long after, releasing your seeds all over the sheets again.

"you're so good, angel~ so, so good for us~" taeyong whimpered once more as he brushed his cock on your prostate again before releasing deep inside you.

thinking everything was done, your head fell weak on jaehyun's lap as you heaved yourself out. your two step brothers shared a look— smirking evilly at their devilish thoughts.

taeyong laid on his back with his hands behind his head, letting himself relax for a while before you laid on top of him, nuzzling his neck. you felt a warm breath hit your ears as taeyong whispered to you, "can you go for one more round, sweets? will you ride me like the best boy you are?" he asked, in which you didn't turn down and immediately went into action.

unreluctantly, you slid yourself down again on his cock, and the shock of pleasure hit both of your body again. "t-there— what an obedient kitten~" taeyong praised as you were successful in taking his whole cock again.

soft, shaky whines left your mouth as you felt sensitive from the previous rounds but that didn't stop you from bouncing softly on his cock. it was just then that you gasped as you felt jaehyun pushed you on top of taeyong, both of your chests pressing against each other.

jaehyun positioned himself behind you before whispering, "you'll take me in as well, right? i know you will~ that's how big of a slut you are~" he said cockily before going inside your hole.

now that there are 2 cocks inside you right now, you are moaning quite loudly at the sensational stretch that you're feeling at this moment. you gasped for air while gripping the sheets as you adjusted to their length— which they let you do.

jaehyun pushed himself slowly in hopes of not hurting you. he groaned at the tight feeling of your ass as he fought for his space deep inside you— it felt too much yet so great for the three of you. taeyong smiled softly as he peppered you with kisses and praises.

"f-fucking— bitch! t-taking his step brothers' cocks like this, huh?—" the rough pace of jaehyun began again as he made you scream their names out in pleasure.

although your two step brothers behaved very differently from one another, perhaps this was also the cause of how amazing everything felt.

"ssshhh, don't cry, angel~ you're taking us both so good and so well~" taeyong said as he wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks as he pecked your lips. the words of your eldest step brother made you feel at ease from the roughness that they're making you feel.

"who would've thought that our little "angel" would turn out to be a filthy slut~?" jaehyun degraded you nonstop as his handprint on your ass cheeks became visible due to how harsh he's been spanking you since.

"'m not a slut!" you tried to speak up only for you to be cut off by taeyong who pulled you in for another kiss. your lips were sure to be swollen at this point, but who cares? it's not like your parents will see it anytime soon anyway. jaehyun could only chuckle as you as he fucked your ass unforgivingly, making you have a hard time on kissing taeyong— causing you to bite either his lip or his tongue.

that forced you to break the kiss as you, again, moaned out their names out loud. all of you were too drowned in pleasure that it didn't take long for the three of you to ride out your final, yet hardest orgasms.

you shuddered at the overwhelming feeling that you were put on the brink of passing out. the three of you panted so hard— while jaehyun fell on your back, sandwiching you in between them while breathing heavily as you composed yourselves.

it was indeed a wild night, and this is just the beginning— but you sure were not complaining.

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destieltropecollection · 6 months ago

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Destiel Trope Collection | Day 6: Canon Divergent

Ladies | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: General Word Count: 1,130 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship Summary: The ladies in Dean and Cas' life throw them a surprise bachelor party.

Yours Again | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,935 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consensual Possession, Castiel Possessing Dean Winchester, Possession, Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Gabriel is So Done (Supernatural), Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Angel True Forms (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Wings, Angel Wings, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Season/Series 05, Misunderstandings, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff Summary: Dean just waves his hand, but stops when he can almost feel something brushing against his hand. His mouth turns into a wide smile when he realizes he is actually touching Cas' feathers. They are like silk and Dean can imagine himself being wrapped by them, luring him to sleep.

priority | @dcforts Rating: General Word Count: 2,034 Main Tags/Warnings: S15e18 Coda, Castiel's Confession Scene, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It Summary: The world is empty, he almost lost Cas again. The world is full, Cas loves him.

the edge of the devil's backbone | @cascigarette Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,008 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Dean Winchester, Fallen Angel Castiel, Blood and Violence, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Face-Fucking, Come Swallowing, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Spit as Lube, Church Sex, Angst, Porn with Feelings, Porn with Plot, Alternate Season 10, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: The demon burns, burns, burns, and the angel is a moth to the flame. Or: Dean succumbs to the Mark of Cain. Cas follows him. Whenever they cross paths, it's bloodthirsty and violent and addicting. Cas asks him to stop. Neither of them are sure if they want him to.

thank god for bruce campbell's abs | @watchinghimrakeleaves Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,408 Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: Dean decides to expose Cas to horror movies. In the process, he learns some startling things about his best friend.

What the Heart Misses | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: General Word Count: 5,546 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Episode S15E14, Fluff, Sam Winchester Knows, Castiel Does Not Make A Deal With The Shadow, Dean Loves Castiel, Christmas, Gift Exchange Summary: After learning that the Winchesters and Jack celebrated Christmas with Mrs. Butters, Castiel takes the opportunity to give Dean a Christmas present. Which then prompts Dean to reflect on the nature of their bond.

a light in the dark burning brighter | Chi_Yagami (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,092 Main Tags/Warnings: finale fix-it, injured Dean Winchester, hurt/comfort, confessions, kid Jack Kline, team free will at the beach, Dean finally gets his little umbrella drink Summary: Three weeks after Castiel is pulled from the Empty, when Dean can finally eat solid food and sit up in bed on his own and complain about being fussed over, Sam asks what they can do to make Dean's recovery a better experience—for everyone, Sam adds. Ducking his head, Dean admits to his brother that he still wants to go to the beach and sip on one of those little umbrella drinks in a coconut.

insi(de an)d outside | @thisisapaige Rating: Mature Word Count: 6,688 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel as God, Angst, Alternate Season/Series 07, Sexual Tension, Castiel POV Summary: Castiel smiled. His Dean— His defiant, determined Dean— was ever the hero. Dean never gave in without a fight, without exhausting every plan and trying every angle. It was so human of him. Castiel could not help but love him for it. "Surely you know holy fire cannot hold a God?" Castiel asked. "You know me." The flames flickered across Dean's face, casting shadows over the hollows of his cheeks. "I had to try."

It was you, only you | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,131 Main Tags/Warnings: Slow burn, canonverse, season 15, friends to lovers, fix it Summary: After defeating Chuck and the raising of Jack as the new God, Dean wakes up from a revealing. dream. Nothing will stop him now from rescue CAS from the Empty. But a new defiance is looming over TFW2.0. Will Dean be able to use his words this time? Or is gonna be work a big impediment again?

Murder the World | @thisisapaige Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,160 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Canon Divergent after s10e22 The Prisoner, Demon Dean Winchester, Parallels Between Cain/Colette Mullen and Castiel/Dean Winchester, Switch Castiel/Switch Dean Winchester, Violence, Porn With Plot Summary: Castiel said he would be the one to watch Dean murder the world. Now he has a chance to prove it.

Loving you back in time | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15,683 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary MCD (Castiel, Sam), time travel, top!Dean/bottom!Castiel, falling in love, enemies to lovers, winged Castiel Summary: After locking Chuck and defeats him, Jack comes out with a plan to get Cas and Sam back from death. Dean will travel back in time to try to really stop the Apocalypse from its root, this time Dean will contact Castiel before events, and part of his mission is to try to convince the angel to join him, explaining they're the good guys and angels and Heaven are not, while trying to avoid the urge of kissing his angel. But something won't go as they expected, and Dean will have to change the plan. This is mid season 15 canon divergent fic. The time travel is before Dean going to Hell. I mixed two importants moments, but they're not in the timeline of the season 3, with references to episode 1x12: Faith.

In A Parked Car Exhuming Ophelia | @an-android-in-a-tutu Rating: Mature Word Count: 17,741 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Interrogation, Demons, Grief/Mourning, References To: Homelessness, baby eating, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Heaven Politics, Unsafe Sex, Pregnancy, Temporary Character Death, Dubious Consent, Summary: The bunker didn’t lend itself to much natural light, and the utilitarian fixtures in the concrete hallways tended to sap people of their colour even on a good day. Maybe that was why Dean looked so much worse than Sam remembered, as worn as he’d ever seen him. The hand he pulled away from his face was shaking, just slightly, and he dropped it quickly to disguise the tremor, but the detail had already been seared into Sam’s brain. Something was very wrong. "I need you with me on this." Sam hasn't spoken to his brother in over a month, so when he shows up in the middle of the night with a powerful demon in tow, he's concerned. It doesn't take long for him to realize that Dean is keeping secrets again, and that whatever he has hidden behind his teeth has to do with the strange woman who seems all too content to remain bound in their dungeon. The demon with white eyes. All Sam wants is the truth, to figure out who she is, and how she's connected to his brother. But people who ask questions, tend to get answers. And they just may be more than Sam can take. An alternate take on season 9 that replaces the Mark of Cain plot with something much worse.

Rock & Roll and Feathers | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,172 Main Tags/Warnings: Season 15, canon divergence, rock stars, case fic, rock star!Dean, bodyguard!Castiel, mutual pining Summary: TFW 2.0 defeated Chuck, locking him down in a magic box and exchanging him with Castiel's deal with the Empty. Everything would be perfect if Jack wasn't locked inside another magic box too. The only way to release Jack, now the New God, is to find the key. Rowena knows who has it. His powerful father, a retired sorcerer, who would give anything to those who win his rock and roll contest. That's why Dean will sign up as a rock star, followed by his manager Sam and his bodyguard Castiel. Bad thing is, maybe winning a rock Contest is not the only test they will have on the road to reach that key.

Roadtrip to the End of the World | inkdr0p (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 24,813 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Original Male Character(s), Team Free Will (Supernatural), Sam is a nerd, Dean is a nerd, Cas is an ancient multidimensional being, Road Trips in the Impala (Supernatural), Castiel stops and looks at everything, Las Vegas, Star Trek References, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff, Dean works through his experiences of the future in 5x04 The End, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Sam Winchester Knows, Dean Winchester Has PTSD, Sleeping in the Impala (Supernatural), Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Wingfic, Winged Castiel (Supernatural), Sam covertly gets Dean and Cas to go on a date, Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Castiel Deserves to be Loved (Supernatural), Season 5, In which I repeatedly compare Cas to a cat, Hunters & Hunting, Slice of Life, Canon Divergent (erases 5x05 "Fallen Idols") Summary: “There’s an apocalypse on, Bobby. In case you forgot.” “No Dean, I didn’t forget. But unless you’ve figured out a way to stop it in the next couple of days, I don’t see why you can’t give yourselves a break. This ain’t a sprint, Dean, it’s a marathon. Besides, last year when we realized just how much had hit the fan I seem to recall you being real quick to---” “Vegas.” “Exactly.” “...The Star Trek Experience.” ---------- OR: Dean's back from the future, Sam's back from his break, and Cas is, well, Cas. As good a time as any to finally take that road trip Dean's been dreaming about since he crawled out of the ground and learned the Apocalypse was a real goddamn thing. All he has to do now is remember how to have fun. Fic takes place in lieu of 5x05 "Fallen Idols"; instead of Paris Hilton the boys are off to the Las Vegas Hilton, former home of the greatest place on earth: The Star Trek Experience.

but i'm singing like a bird 'bout it now | @dirtangeldean Rating: Mature Word Count: 26,976 Main Tags/Warnings: Car Impala (Supernatural), Car Conversations, Aromantic, acespec, AceSpec!Cas, accountability, 15x18 coda, switch POV, Healing Dean Winchester, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, First Kiss, Dubcon Kissing(kinda), arospec!Dean, Aromantic Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Former Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Gives Oral Sex, Past Sexual Assault, Mention of Past Sex Work, Dean Winchester's Jacket, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, reader…i have taken liberties, Angelic Grace Kink (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Original Character(s) Summary: 15x18 fix-it: Dean uses his one last shot to save Cas and succeeds, the fall out that happens when the unspoken becomes spoken all at once has a happy ending. The eventual conversations of comfort, duty, sacrifice, power, obligation, and love ensue. Communicationnatural. OR Dean can't bare to have Cas leave him. And the Empty allows him to stay. OR Reckoning with a first kiss actually being the opposite of happiness simply due to circumstance.

We're at the lost and found | @mercurialkitty Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 27,019 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 12 AU, season/series 13, Fix-it, mostly broadcast tv level swearing with a few f-bombs, Hunter's Funeral (Supernatural), canon typical angel slurs, Domesticity, will they or won't they, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, relationship beginning, like an episode some story arcs are left unresolved, dadstiel Summary: What would the beginning of season 13 have been like if Cas lived and Mary stayed put?

Desideratum and Other Mishaps | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 28,075 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Episode: S14E13, Baby Jack Kline, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Protective Dean, Fluff and Angst, Dean Worries About Castiel Summary: In an unexpected turn of events, Castiel and the Winchesters find themselves with a toddler on their hands, when Jack, intending to regain his grace, makes a wish with the Baozhu—the wish-granting pearl—instead of Dean and gets transformed into a young child. Unsure how to fix the situation, and with Mary and Sam aiding the hunters from the other world on a hunt, Dean and Castiel are left alone at the bunker to care for baby Jack, where more than one revelation will unfold.

Dean Winchester and the Belly Button Piercing | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 34,800 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Porn With Plot, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Dean Winchester has his Belly Button Pierced (And Sammy Doesn't Know), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is a Tease, Castiel doesn't understand flirting, Idiots in Love, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Porn with Feelings, Canon-Typical Violence, Piercings, Ear Piercings, Pierced Dean Winchester, Navel piercing, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Flirty Dean Winchester Summary: Dean Winchester was 23 when he got his belly button pierced. It was during a time in his life when everything felt like it was in turmoil (long before he even really knew what his life being in turmoil truly meant). He never intended to go out and get any piercings—his father would have never allowed it. For 20-something years it had been his best-kept secret… that was until one fateful night when a hunt went wrong and his best friend had to swoop in and help patch him up, catching an eyeful of his elusive secret. Castiel’s infatuation with his best friend took a dangerous turn that night (not that he wasn’t already treading treacherous waters with his feelings towards the man). He had already known that Dean had a piercing, but he had no idea it was still functional, and equally had no idea that a piece of jewellery, Dean’s own slice of quiet rebellion, would have such a profound effect on him. Now Castiel can’t help but want him and his fading grace is doing very little in hiding his… indiscretions. The idea of it slowly drove him insane. And what makes it worse… Castiel was certain Dean was doing it on purpose.

Castiel's Hidden Pussycat | @macy2me Rating: Explicit Word Count: 41,050 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence - Season 13, Castiel Adopts A Cat, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester in Denial, Castiel's grace is damaged, Boys Being Awkward, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Frottage, POV Castiel (Supernatural) Summary: Castiel, angel of the Lord, has been saved by a cat. He didn’t intend to keep it. He didn’t mean for the green-eyed cat to work its way into his heart. It’s becoming a bit of a theme. Yet, here he is, smuggling a cat into the bunker. Cas and Dean have been doing a dance for nine years—circling each other, one step forward, by one step back, changing direction, never getting closer, never too far apart. However, when you throw a cat into the mix, the next move becomes a lot harder to predict.

When Dreams Come True | @avonlady42 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 65,616 Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergent, angst and fluff and smut, Dean Winchester has a wing kink, plot twist, inappropriate use of grace, top castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, explicit sexual content, happy ending, marriage, adoption Summary: After Chuck is defeated, Jack forces Dean and Cas to finally admit their feelings to each other and gives Cas his wings back in the process. They end up getting their happily ever after while Sam settles down with Eileen. Ten years they spend together as a couple, hunting when they need to, but mostly living the domesticated life Dean always wanted and Castiel always wanted him to have. Unfortunately, it all comes crashing down one day when Castiel goes on a hunt and doesn’t make it home. Dean will do whatever it takes to get the love of his life back and ends up getting more than he bargained for when he finds him again. This fic is canon compliant through Season 14 and starts off during the Ouroboros episode S14E14, from there it becomes Canon divergent with some of the rest of Season 14 and Season 15 being the same, but slightly different. S15E20 doesn’t exist and there is an alternate storyline 10 years into the future.

We Are The Music Makers (WIP) | Clairebearer (AO3) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 120,932 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Canon Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Castiel, Action/Adventure, Romance, Sexuality, Domestic Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, Reaper Dean, BAMF Dean, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Sam, Greek Mythology - Freeform, It's all about the souls, Awkward Sexual Situations, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Build, Case Fic, Magic Mirrors, Dark Magic, Demons, Angelic Grace, Mental Health Issues, Trickster Gabriel, Musical References, Pop culture references, Movie spoilers, Fate, Destiny, Free Will, Canon divergent, Cupid - Freeform, Terminal Illness, Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Bi-Curious Dean Winchester, Temporary Major Character Death, Angst with a happy ending Summary: Set in the aftermath of seasons 8's epic finale. With Sam's life hanging by a thread Dean is forced to call the only being he knows has the power to help: Death. However, like most impossible things they come with a terrible price and it acts as an hour glass hanging ominously over Dean's head as his life-line burns away like a fuse, a full-time job as a reaper waiting for him. Time is short and the world is bent on destroying itself, so when the shadow of an averted apocalypse threatens to resurface and wipe out everything he has fought so hard to save, Dean must do everything within his power - and more - to stop it. His own feelings be damned... If he can help it.

Far From Heaven: Part Two | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 151,921 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Post-Canon Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Gratuitous Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergent, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, Homophobic John Winchester, Abusive John Winchester, Former Sex Worker Dean Winchester, POV Alternating, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), Possessive Dean Winchester, Extremely Dubious Consent, Dom/sub, BDSM, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Consensual Non-Consent, Angelic Possession (Supernatural), Angelic Grace Bonds (Supernatural), Wing Kink, Castiel and Dean Winchester Get Married, Additional Tags in End Note Summary: Castiel is gone and Dean can't move passed it, can't bring himself to stray far from the last place he ever saw his Angel. A place so full of sorrow, yet there is love there too, lingering in the farthest, darkest reaches. Gabriel is done watching Castiel and Dean be martyrs. Jack's fixed up Heaven, all is as it should be, there's no reason these two idiots can't finally have everything they ever wanted. If he intervenes, if Gabriel finally embraces what he was built for in the first place, will it make a difference? Will Cas and Dean finally get their happily ever after? He's not gonna lie, leading three (not so) wise men across the desert was probably easier than this headache will turn out to be. Still, Gabriel maintains that it is possible to lead a horse to water and make it drink. You just gotta know which buttons to push.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #canon divergent

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