#Tiny Dancer is for two people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chelseeebe · 9 months ago

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too sweet (for me)

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of violence and drugs. eddie is a dick but not when it comes to r <333 :} female!reader

eddie munson had been hardened by life. how could one night possibly demolish all of the walls he had spent so long building?

a/n: sorry for being mia again lol i am trying i swear!! i have another eddie fic coming that i love and probably the other parts to the steve zombie au! i’m usually never busy but these last few weeks have been wild

read part two here.

the club is too loud, too busy and too sweaty. eddie wasn’t a fan, never had been.

he squeezes past the crowd, grumbling to himself as he goes. eddie preferred to be in bed by three. his mom was very spiritual and had drilled into him that nothing good could come out of being awake at the witching hour.

something or someone knocks into him, or vice versa, he can’t really tell. it’s too dark and he’s had too much to even really care.

“watch it,” you snap, twisting around to send the dirtiest glare.

“what the fuck? you bumped into me,” he shouts over the loud thumping beat. immediately wishing he could swallow his words, noticing your eyes narrow, sizing him up. you’re the prettiest girl in this place, the only one he’s even looked at twice and now you hated him.

“whatever asshole,” you snarl, before continuing your way to the busy bar.

eddie hesitates for a moment before shoving through the path you’d made, angering another ten people on his way. he didn’t care, that couldn’t be your only impression of him.

he catches up, squeezing into the tiny space next to you, leaning against the sticky marble as you wait patiently.

his hand brushes your arm, earning another sly glance, face screwing up as you realise he’d tailed you to the bar.

“sorry,” he starts, not giving you the opportunity to tell him to fuck off first. “i wanted to apologise.. i was rude,” tongue resting on his bottom lip, appreciating the new found lighting and how it made you glow.

“you were,” smiling pointedly, eyes trailing down his chest, “but you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

eddie stares, mouth agape at your brutal, up-front attitude before it turns to a tiny smirk, “i think that’s fair,” honestly he admired it. the only girl in here worth a second glance.

“vodka,” you add, making room for him to order.

he takes one last admiring look at you before turning to the bartender.

you tunnel your way back through the crowd, your friends long gone by now. eddie didn’t mind keeping you company, not one bit.

his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you gently back towards him. rightfully earning another scathing glare as you stop, inches in front of him.

“you’re not gonna even tell me your name?” he leans in, smirking as he does.

your lips brush against his ear, name soft as silk as you mutter into his hair. it sends shivers down his spine, wanting your lips on his ear and his neck.

“eddie,” he replies, resting his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close in the packed club.

“are you a dancer, eddie?” the way his name rolls off of your tongue makes him unfathomably crazy.

“not really,” he mumbles, tongue poking out of his lips.

“too bad,” your smirk, pulling towards the bustling dance floor before he can argue against it.

he didn’t like clubbing nor dancing but if you insist, he couldn’t say no.

the music ripples around him, hazy when all he can focus on is you and the way your hips twist in time to the beat. you’re not even trying and yet he’s completely encapsulated by your body.

there’s an attempt at dancing along with you, though he’s not any good. itching to just place his hands on your waist and let you guide him.

the purple light catches your eye as you move closer, eddie’s eyes latched onto you the entire time.

“you’re really not a dancer, are ya’?” you lean in to whisper.

“can’t help it, i’m distracted,” he purrs, daring to place his hand on the small of your back.

you purse your lips, keeping whatever snarky comment to yourself.

fuck it.

“d’you wanna get out of here?” eddie asks, “i know a place.”

your brow quirks, “hm? how do i know you won’t kidnap me?”

he tilts his head, meeting your eye, “you’ll just have to trust me,” offering his hand for you to take, eager to get you out of this club.

really, he’d go anywhere if it meant he could look at you properly without getting elbowed in the back by sweaty drunks.

you hesitate for a split second, which he supposes is fair, before placing your hand in his, permission to lead you from the dance floor and out into the chilly night.

your arms wrap around yourself, shivering in the cold.

eddie doesn’t hesitate, taking his jacket off and placing it around your shoulders. “it’s not far from here.. we can walk?”

your eyes narrow once more, pulling his jacket tighter, “lead the way, eddie.”

he knows you’re trying to taunt him, maybe rile him up a little and by god is it working. taking your hand once more as you start the walk to his apartment, anticipating coursing through his veins.

the elevator ride up to his floor is hell, fingers twitching to touch you. he’d do it too, if you were alone. plagued with one of his neighbours just trying to get home as you hang off of his arm.

eddie’s thankful his floor is first, losing the will to not just grab you right then and there.

your mouth falls open, eyes flitting around the apartment he definitely didn’t pay someone else to decorate for him.

“you live here?”

eddie didn’t grow up around money. he lived in a trailer for most of his life, cramped into the tiny home with his uncle in some dead end town until he finally found the nerve to move himself to chicago.

there were dreams of a music career that wilted away pretty quickly after he realised that there were a hundred and one other screwed up teens just like him, all wanting the same thing.

selling drugs wasn’t exactly his chosen path but he’d sold a little weed in high school and found he wasn’t awful at it and now here he was.

with more money than he knew what to do with and a reputation for being a hard ass.

he doesn’t entertain your amazement, sidling over to you with his hands already finding their place to your waist.

“the bedroom’s even better,” eddie smirks, feeling your fingers twist around his t-shirt.

“go ‘head,” half-smile on your pretty lips.

your body brushes against his as you trail behind, not wanting to waste another second. he hasn’t even kissed you yet, has no idea how addicting you’ll taste, the slight hint of vanilla in your smudged lipgloss.

expertly twisting you around, stumbling over just slightly before he catches you, planting his lips on yours, manoeuvring your entwined bodies around the darkened room.

he’s done this dance a hundred times, but something about you feels different. you’re mailable, trusting in his hands to guide you to the bed while your hands sit atop his shoulders.

falling back onto the mattress, tugging him down atop of your body, fingers clawing at his collar while his hands roam your body, grabbing at your hips and waist.

eddie haphazardly reaches for the lamp, disconnecting your lips for a brief moment before the orange hue fills the room.

you groan in response, sprawled out on the mattress underneath him.

“i wanna see you,” he remarks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you properly again. a full battle between teeth and tongues, barely catching against one another, lips wet with each other.

you sigh softly into his mouth when his hand travels beneath your dress, sliding between your aching thighs, panties already wet and begging to be torn off.

he doesn’t though, wanting to draw this out just a tiny bit longer, removing his fingers from your heat to toy with the hem of your dress.

“fuck,” you gasp, breaking away from his lips, “don’t be mean,” swollen bottom lip jutting out to make it all that much worse.

“okay,” eddie laughs quietly, “i’m done,” sticking to his word as your dress comes down in one rough tug, grunting as he does so.

he sits up on his knees, admiring the sight of your quivering body below. “worth it,” he remarks, tearing off his own t-shirt, and launching it across the room somewhere.

his jeans are next, shaking them off of his leg as they land on the floor with a soft thud.

your hand instinctively covers your chest, shying away from his hungry gaze.

“nuhuh,” eddie bites, pulling your arm away, pinning it underneath his as he comes back to your level, hovering just above. “don’t do that.”

you blink, pulling him closer with your free hand. the cat and mouse routine had been going on far too long, even for him. feeling your heat against his cock, almost painful to the touch as it strains his boxers.

“well if you hurried up..” you start, tilting your chin towards him with a tiny smirk.

eddie laughs loudly, yanking your panties down abruptly, “alright sweetheart, i hear ya,” returning his hand to between your thighs, spreading you open with his middle finger before sliding the digit in.

you huff in response, mouth falling open as that melodic tone he’s been waiting for falls from your lips, dancing around his ears.

your head falls back against the soft pillow, opening your legs further as he shifts fully in between, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“that better?” pumping his finger between your slick folds, your breath quivering with every move.

you nod quickly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder, taking a deep breath when his thumb finds your clit.

he can’t hold off any longer, pulling his fingers out and tugging his boxers down, cock springing up against his stomach.

“mhm,” he groans, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip of his already leaking cock, lapping up every last whine of appreciation you let slip.

eddie slides in, staggered breaths as he pauses, adjusting his position to allow his hand to find your hand, fingers intertwining while you huff into his ear.

“shit,” he utters, slowly thrusting his hips, gripping your hand tighter, pressing you into the mattress.

he wouldn’t have fucked around so much if he knew this is what you’d feel like.

your thighs squeeze around his waist, the soft skin encasing him. goading him on with your sweet breathless whines, repeating his name like gospel.

working his way to the hilt, debating why he could just sit there for a while with his cock buried deep inside of you or not.

your fingers twist around his curls, gently tugging on the messy mop atop of his head.

whimpering into the tiny shared space between your faces, your eyes fighting to stay open. cheeks warm and flushed, incoherent babbling trailing from your mouth.

“you.. you feel fuckin’ insane,” eddie growls, wishing he could swallow that familiar twist in his stomach, keep this going forever and ever.

the air is warm, filthy sounds of his skin against yours fill the room as you desperately move your hips against his. loosely connecting your lips in a hazy kiss, he can feel you tighten around him, whimpers strained and needy as you near your orgasm.

“ahh fuck,” eddie mewls, burying his head into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving lazy kisses in the crook. hoping he can hold out for just a minute more while you tremble around him. coming undone right beneath his body.

you hum into his ear, running your fingers along his scalp, pulling gently on his hair.

eddie can’t stop himself any longer, pulling his cock out of your cunt before he cums, letting his release cover your thigh instead.

your nails continue to trace through his hair while his mouths babbles a bunch of nonsensical bullshit into your neck, surely condemned by a life in hell for the blasphemous shit he was saying.

coaxing his head out of the comfort of your skin to gaze into his tired eyes, your heartbeats coinciding with one another.

instead of saying anything, you grin, laughing quietly to yourself. eddie thinks you’re crazy and yet, he’s sure he might’ve just fallen in love.

eddie feels like a creep, watching as you sleep, your leg twisted somewhere between his making him terrified to even think about moving.

he doesn’t want to startle you, in fact he doesn’t really want this to end. he knows that once you wake, he’ll be lucky to see you again.

maintaining relationships wasn’t exactly a skill he possessed.

you stir sometime later, feeling your way up his chest as you come around. maybe you’d think he was a freak, maybe you’d regret it and decide to file a restraining order or something.

“morning,” you croak, lips plump with sleep, eyes barely open as they peep at the other side of the bed.

“hi,” wanting to cringe at his complete lack of charm.

“you talk in your sleep,” you say pointedly, shadows of a smile on your lips.

“oh really? what was i saying?”

you shrug, “something about a fire,” scrunching your nose up. idyllic as you bask in the morning light, a real picture of beauty.

“a fire? that’s weird, i was dreaming about you,” undecided whether it were too much too soon.

you curl away from him, shying into the pillow when a bang at the door interrupts everything, damn near rattling his entire apartment.

you look to him again, confusion threading your brows together, “who’s that?” worry seeping through your tone.

“i don’t know,” well, he had a pretty good idea of who it probably was and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with that right now.

they bang again, eddie unfurling his arm from your waist, “i’ll be two minutes,” frowning to himself as he pulls his boxers on.

as expected, gareth and jeff stand outside, gormless as their eyes fall to his bare legs.

“woah,” gareth exclaims, eyes wide.

“what d’you two want?”

“you not gonna invite us in?” jeff presses, still marvelling at his legs.

“no.”

“why?” gareth peers into the apartment, “who’ve you got in there?”

“your mom,” eddie quips, “why are you here?”

the two idiots share a look, half-offended, half trying to figure out if eddie was telling the truth or not.

“well-“ they come closer, “we’ve got that shipment.. for the thing,” brows wiggling, “couple’a weeks and it’ll be in.”

this leads to eddie closing the door further round, in fear of you overhearing. he’s not sure how well received that’d be on your first morning together.

“shh,” he hisses, looking around the very empty corridor, “you couldn’t have told me this later?”

they shake their heads in unison, “murray said to let you know, no phones.. no paper trail.”

eddie searches both of their blank faces before nodding, “alright.. alright, you can go now.”

they oblige but not before jeff grabs his crotch, winking at eddie which makes him slightly uncomfortable and letting out an almost inaudible have fun before disappearing into the elevator.

the urge to knock their heads together had never been stronger, returning to his apartment to find you stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the pictures on his dresser.

“i used to be cute, right?” he knows exactly which one you’re looking at, startling at the sound of his voice.

you turn, still holding onto the frame, “is that your mom?”

“mhm,” he hums, taking the frame from your grasp, “she..” clearing his throat, “she died when i was younger,” tracing his thumb over the image of her crazy hair.

“oh,” you frown, looking at him with pitiful eyes, “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, hair falling out of the loose bun he’d thrown up, “don’t apologise,” placing the photo back in it’s rightful place, “she was sick,” turning to you with his half-moon eyes.

he wishes he hadn’t even said it, the look on your face was too woeful, especially after the large grin you’d had plastered on it just this morning.

eddie sniffs, jumping to action, “get dressed,” he practically orders, wanting nothing more than to change the subject, “we’re going out,” telling, rather than asking.

“where?”

he shrugs, opening the large closet which mostly consisted of plain black tees and his jeans.

“i don’t have any clothes.. or my toothbrush, give me an hour and-“

interrupted by a shirt flying over, just about catching it before it lands on the ground, “wear mine, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” eddie nods, sliding into his own clothes.

you stare dumbfounded at the cotton, before glancing back at him, “uh.. i don’t- what if people think..”

he turns, smile already peaking through, “if people think what? that we fucked? oh no,” riddled with sarcasm.

“you’re not funny,” you pout though you shimmy into the t-shirt, “i didn’t mean that i just..” trailing off into silence.

eddie’s eyes widen, something about seeing you in his shirt invigorated something within.

“don’t look at me like that,” shying away though there was really no need. he’d seen it all already.

“i can’t help it,” he remarks, standing wide-eyed.

your eyes roll in return, turning away to slip into his sweats though that makes everything worse. eddie instantly jumps to grab you, squeezing your arms against your sides, eliciting a high pitched squeal from you.

“maybe breakfast can wait,” growling into your ear, tripping over your legs as he barrels towards the bed.

eddie sighs, eyeing the seemingly stagnant clock on the dash. he knows you get off at three, toying with the idea of telling you he’s coming to get you or just turning up outside your building.

he figures he’s close enough that he won’t bother, shifting into drive. you’d only seen each other yesterday but he couldn’t get enough.

girls came and went in his life, never sticking around long enough for him to really get to know them. it felt different this time, he was itching to be with you, this constant need to be near you, with you. it scared him deep down, turning his stomach at the thought of someone actually meaning something to him.

he watches the door like a hawk, positioned outside so that you can’t possibly miss him.

it’s five after three by the time you emerge from the grand door, closely followed by who he assumes are your co-workers. eyes narrowing at the sight of the spindly guy following behind.

eddie clocks the exact moment you spot him, ducking your head as you break away from the group and slide into the passenger seat.

“what’re you doing here?” you flush, though your smile is evident, creeping onto his own face.

“i can’t come pick you up from work?”

you shrug, still coy as your co-workers dawdle, staring into the car with eager eyes.

“why’re you so shy all of a sudden? not even gonna kiss me?” eddie teases, feeling the eyes of your colleagues hot on his face.

“shut up,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

he takes this as a challenge, leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to yours, waiting for your approval before embarrassing you any further.

your lips lock onto his before he can think about it, deciding to turn the innocent kiss into what he can only describe as a sloppy, over exaggerated makeout session. something similar to his first attempts at kissing.

you pull back, groaning in disgust, averting your eyes from the nosy gaggle of colleagues that still stood gawping.

mission accomplished.

eddie grins before speeding away, not bothering to acknowledge them another time.

you want to be annoyed, eddie can tell. tutting in your seat as if you didn’t enjoy that just as much as he did.

“who was that? your boyfriend?” only half-joking.

there’s another sigh, “i wish,” as you mess around with the dials on the dash.

eddie would normally smack your hand away but for you, he couldn’t.

an absolute sucker for the way your fingers danced around the tortoise shell interior, making yourself comfortable in his car like you should.

“you’ve never been to brunch?” you fret, looking at him with pure amazement over the table.

“no,” eddie chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, “why would i?”

“why wouldn’t you?” smiling wide.

there’s been a lot of firsts for eddie these past few weeks.

you’d dragged him for a walk around the park in front of his complex, perplexed that he’d never even bothered. he’d been into a florist for the first time, hand picking some overpriced bouquet just for you.

he shakes his head, shrugging. there wasn’t any time for brunch when you had to move kilos of cocaine for rich aristocrats.

“you don’t live,” you scoff, sipping on your 11am mimosa as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

it’s ridiculous how soft you make him feel. he’d do brunch in some gentrified neighbourhood every day if it meant you smiled at him like that.

everything about you is too sweet, your clothes, the perfume you doused yourself in, the lipstick stains you’d leave behind on shared cigarettes. even last week when you’d made him stop for some cat food for the tiny stray that hung around your garden. who does that?

“some of us have to work, sweetheart,” eddie teases, shuffling around on the far-too-fancy chair.

“i work,” you hit back, “only difference is that what i do, isn’t illegal,” whispering the last part of your sentence, smug as you take a drink.

he looks on in pure awe. the fact that you could speak to him like that and yet still end up his favourite person was a miracle in and of itself.

“d’you want me to pay for your fuckin’ brunch or not?”

“i can pay f’myself,” you huff.

“but i don’t want you to.”

your eyes glint, pursing your lips to the side, “i don’t want to either.”

eddie’s already trembling in the car, murray droning on about the importance of gloves next to him. this all seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago and now his stomach flipped with every turn.

that was before he had something to lose, before he met you.

maybe weeks of you loosening him up had ruined him. the soft life was a dream in comparison to this. the complete fear coursing through his veins was enough to make him never want to leave the serene calm of your arms ever again.

a couple of years ago he was just some kid selling weed to the losers that hung around the block and now he’s clutching a pistol, contemplating whether he’d survive if he just jumped out of the car.

murray wouldn’t let him. he’d find him, make him pay for being such a pussy.

eddie’s eyes fall shut, head lolling back against the seat, conjuring up images of you in his head. if he had to do it, he also had to make it out alive.

for you.

a ringing bellows through his head, fumbling with the keys as his fingers shake.

he couldn’t remember if you were at work tonight, hoping you wouldn’t have to see this. get pulled into his ridiculous life.

eddie stumbles through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom when your voice calls out from the kitchen.

“eds?”

choosing to ignore it, focussed on the churning in his stomach and the need to empty whatever was rumbling around in there.

it all comes out into the toilet, heaving and retching as you round the corner completely perplexed by whatever was going on.

he’s slumped on the cold floor, gasping for air when you speak, “eddie?” terror in your voice.

“what happened?”

eddie barely looks up, focused on not throwing up again. he can’t explain it, there’s no words to tell you what happened without incriminating himself.

your eyes fall to the red splatters on his shirt, the cuts that littered his knuckles and the purple hue that had started taking over his cheek.

any idiot could put two and two together.

he’s been cryptic about what he does for work, never saying too much but just enough for you to understand. he didn’t want to tell you, to have to drag you into all this. that wasn’t fair.

for a moment, he thinks you’re about to run out of the door and never look back. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

instead, you take charge, stepping into the bathroom with your hands resting on your hips, “get up,” you order, tugging at his arm.

he doesn’t. still partially curled around the toilet bowl, confused about your attitude.

“i said get up,” barking again, holding onto his elbow with an iron clad grip.

eddie obliges this time around, shakily standing up. he feels like a child, waiting for you to tell him what to do, to make him feel normal again.

you pull him to the sink, running the warm water, scrubbing his hands with yours. the water runs a murky colour, red and brown alike.

“get under your nails,” you add, lathering the soap on his palms, laser focused on his hands rather than the sorry state that had overcome him.

he does as you ask, scrubbing under his nails. standing aloof when you turn the water off.

your hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, “off,” nodding towards his jeans.

it’s a little unsettling that you know exactly what to do, but eddie’s not complaining. grateful for your presence, for your forward thinking. who knows what he would’ve done if you weren’t here. he thinks he probably would’ve handed himself straight into the cops.

you hold a bag open for him, gesturing for his clothes to go in. “we’ll.. we can get rid of them tomorrow,” eventually meeting his eyes again.

he nods, allowing you to guide him through to his bedroom. pliable, completely at your mercy. if you told him that jumping off of bridge would help, he’d do it.

you dump the bag of evidence on the floor before pulling out a fresh shirt and sweatpants, flinging them on the bed.

“get dressed.. i’ll get you some water,” before flouncing out of the room.

eddie hated himself for dragging you into his life like this. it was always supposed to be something separate, something isolated from your relationship.

he’s barely dressed by the time you return, feeling like a pitiful mess. if the look on your face were anything to go by, he looked like it too.

“eddie,” you begin, that same sad tone you’d had when he told you about his mom, “i don’t..” stepping closer, “need to know what happened- i don’t really want to know either but.. you can’t let it fuck you up,” looking at him earnestly, which honestly hurts more.

he nods, “i know,” because he did. “i’m sorry for-,” he sighs, “for getting you involved, i never wanted you to see this.”

you respond by throwing your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek against his chest, “don’t.. don’t start with that.”

his chin finds the top of your head, nestling into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

it’s a nice type of silence, the air heavy with unspoken words but he thinks that’s okay.

you understand anyway.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot

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hcneymooners · 2 days ago

Text

thinking of chef!sevika...

suggestive content. men & minors dni.

🫕 and how the two of you met least luxuriously. you had gone on a terrible date - the kind where the conversation was tepid as lukewarm soup, where you watched the other person cut their food into increasingly smaller pieces just to have something to do with their hands.

🫕 you'd stolen away to the bathroom and found yourself wedged between the open window and sill, desperate for air untainted by forced laughter. thinking of how you got stuck and she looked up at you, as if you were suspended in a baroque-era painting, all twisted limbs and desperation. you'd reached out to her, a stranger in the alleyway of a restaurant, and asked for help.

🫕 she'd lifted you free with hands that spoke of years in kitchens - calloused, sure, strong - and you found the ground beneath your feet again, hair slightly mussed from all the movement. thank you, you said and she'd smiled so that you could see the body of the cigar held tightly between her teeth. she had a gap-tooth smile that reminded you of warm bread torn apart, and you thought of it all the way home and even after, constantly.

🫕 thinking of chef!sevika and how you met again, this time at a group function at some lush little eatery off a street you didn't know had any reputation in the city. it was a birthday party so the place had been rented out and you were pressed back-to-back and front-to-front with people who you knew nothing of, but shared memories of the birthday girl with. it was nineteen twenties themed so you'd gotten a jet-black wig, short and curling softly at the apples of your cheeks, and had ornamented yourself with an authentic flapper dress: glittering sleekly in the perfect shade of baby blue. your diamond necklaces were long and layered, your mother's relic.

🫕 the noise had become too much - crystal glasses clinking like wind chimes in a storm - so you'd slipped away, found a door marked 'staff only' and pushed through into blessed quiet. you've tucked yourself into this side kitchen, where the air smells of reduced wine and fresh herbs.

🫕 chef!sevika who's surprised to find you lounging in her extra kitchen, who hides a smile as you dip a finger into a plate of artfully smoked salmon laid out in thin blush slices against a fan of pita and sauce. she's older than you, carries it in the silver threading her temples, in the assured way she moves through her domain.

🫕 her knife work is hypnotic - you watch her hands move with the surety that comes from decades of practice, the blade an extension of herself. curious little thing, she murmurs, but slides the plate closer to you instead of pulling it away.

🫕 you start bringing her things after that night - rare spices from specialty shops tucked into quiet corners of the city, flowers still warm from the morning market, cookbooks with cracked spines from antique stores.

🫕 she teaches you to taste properly: eyes closed, breathing in the steam of broths she's spent hours perfecting. slow down, she'll whisper, one hand on your wrist, savor it. and you learn to do just that - to savor everything about her, about this slow-burning thing between you.

🫕 in her kitchen late at night, you watch her alter recipes. she lets you be her tester, feeding you tiny portions from wooden spoons worn smooth with use. too much salt? she asks, and you shake your head, entranced by how she makes notes in a leather-bound journal, her handwriting precise and slanting. you're perched on a counter, legs swinging, and she moves between stoves with the grace of a dancer. sometimes her hand brushes your knee as she passes, and you feel it like a flame.

🫕 she teaches you to make pasta on a sunday morning, the kitchen filled with golden light. her hands guide yours through the motions of kneading, and you lean back against her chest, feeling how your breathing slowly synchronizes. patience, she says, when you want to rush. good things take time. you understand she's not just talking about the dough beneath your fingers.

🫕 your first real kiss tastes of the cardamom ice cream she's been perfecting - sweet and complex and slightly spiced. she cups your face in hands that smell of basil and butter, and you think about how many ways there are to feed someone, to nourish them.

🫕 months pass like honey dripping from a spoon. you build rituals together: morning coffee in the garden she's started growing herbs in, weekend trips to farmers' markets where she charms every vendor with her expertise and that gap-toothed smile. she teaches you the names of every herb in her garden, how to tell when tomatoes are perfectly ripe, the secret to properly seasoning cast iron. you teach her how to slow down sometimes, to leave the kitchen and dance with you in the living room, to let a meal be simple if it means more time to kiss.

🫕 you surprise her on her birthday by converting the spare room into a spice library - floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with jars from your travels together, each one labeled in your careful handwriting. she cries, just a little, and you kiss the salt from her cheeks.

🫕 the proposal happens in her kitchen - where else? - while she's teaching you to make her grandmother's secret recipe for braised short ribs. this is a family secret, she says, and then pauses, wooden spoon halfway to the pot. i suppose you should be family then. you nearly drop the wine you're holding, and she laughs, deep and rich. marry me, she says, let me feed you forever.

🫕 the wedding is in autumn, when the air is crisp and sweet with falling leaves. she spends days in the kitchen you built her, crafting a feast that tells your story: the smoked salmon from the night in her extra kitchen, pasta rolled by four hands instead of two, herbs from your shared garden. your dress is the color of a deep forest, and when you walk down the aisle, she cries again, just a little.

🫕 there are harder days, when eating feels like swallowing stones. she finds you curled on the kitchen floor one morning, the marble cool against your cheek. without a word, she sits beside you, gathers you into her lap like something precious.

🫕 hey baby, she whispers against your hair, and her hands are so gentle as they trace the hollow spaces of you. she feeds you breakfast slowly, carefully - warm bread torn into tender, small pieces, drizzled with honey. each bite is followed by a kiss: to your temples, your shoulders, the soft plane of your stomach.

🫕 you're here, she reminds you, you're safe. and you are - safe in this kitchen that smells of rosemary and rising dough, safe in her arms that have always known how to hold you.

🫕 later, when you're stronger, she shows you another kind of recipe. dark chocolate melting on your skin like sunset, the sharp bright burst of reduced raspberry sauce. the secret, she murmurs against your collarbone, is the canvas. her tongue traces patterns like plating designs, and you laugh, breathless, at how she makes art of everything. my masterpiece, she calls you, and you feel beautiful, consumed, cherished.

🫕 the cookbook comes as a surprise - you find the proof copy on her desk one evening. "recipes for my love," the title reads, and inside are all your favorites. each recipe comes with a story, a memory. "the secret ingredient is time," she writes in the introduction, "and someone worth spending it with." it sells out in weeks, then months. "it's like reading a love letter," the reviews say, and you blush every time, even as you beam with pride at how she's shared your love with the world.

🫕 thinking about how your home becomes a sanctuary, especially for jinx and isha. they come at all hours - after fights, during celebrations, on quiet sunday afternoons when they just need to be somewhere warm.

🫕 sevika teaches jinx knife skills while you and isha roll out cookie dough, all of you covered in flour and laughing. the cool aunts, they call you, but you know it's more than that. it's the way sevika always knows when to start making hot chocolate (the real stuff. none of that synthetic crap, she grumbles), the way you keep their favorite snacks in the pantry, the way the kitchen island has become a confessional booth where secrets are whispered and hearts are allowed to be swollen with grief .

🫕 kitchens are for healing, sevika says one night, watching you all from the doorway. jinx is asleep on the couch, isha curled up beside her, and the house smells like the cookies you'd stress-baked together after a particularly rough day. you lean back against her chest, feeling her heartbeat strong and steady. and for family, you add, and feel her smile against your hair.

🫕 thinking of how the years pass like this - measured in meals shared, in recipes perfected, in late-night comforts and early morning kisses that taste of coffee. your love never spoils, never grows stale. it only deepens, like a good red wine, like a soup that's been simmering all day.

🫕 sevika still feeds you from splintering spoons, still kisses your stomach on hard days, still looks at you like you're the most exquisite dish she's ever created. and you still perch on counters to watch her work, still bring her flowers and spices, still catch your breath at the full force of her smile.

🫕 in the end, it's simple: your kitchen is your heart, and your heart is always full.

me 🤝🏾 my eating disorder and subsequent recovery 🤝🏾 wanting to marry someone in the food industry.

#sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika #sevika my love #arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #fluff #light angst #mine ; 🐎.#female!reader #arcane x female reader #fem!reader #sevika x oc

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httpknjoon · 2 months ago

Text

have you ever tried this one? | myg

plot | that time popstar!yn and bassist!yoongi had a very *intense* staring contest throughout the whole concert.

w.c | 1581

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff (?), enemies to lovers

note | it's juno so.... 🥵

main masterlist

DAY 53 of Love Is... On Tour

Another day, another reason to fight over something.

Cute. For someone who looks tiny in their oversized sweatshirt, you sure do hold a lot of power over a lot of people, Yoongi thought. Just a lift of your finger while you were singing could mean something. Maybe you want to change the tempo or you want to improve something. He can see gears working in your head while you sing the lyrics of your songs. It's crazy how your mind and body coordinate well while focusing on different things. Your fingers rhythmically tap on your thigh, following the beats. Yoongi strummed on his guitar while watching you sing in front of the band, waiting for any signal.

"And I heard you're- Wait, wait, wait. Let's pause."

Just three songs left during the rehearsals, you raised your right hand, making the band stop from playing. Instantly when the music stopped, your eyes directly met Yoongi's.

"Can you please quit staring at me," you said, annoyed.

Yoongi looked around to make sure that you were talking to him. But he was met with his bandmates looking back at him, confirming that yes, you were talking to him.

His eyebrows raised, "Me?"

"Yes, you are literally throwing daggers on my way ever since I stood here." you confronted him.

"I am not." he denied. Was he looking at you? Yes. But is he throwing daggers? Definitely not.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. You swore you could feel his intense eyes on you in every movement you make. Every time your eyes land in his direction, you immediately find him looking back at your fingers, your thighs, or just you. Sometimes you would notice a small quirk in his lips while staring at you. But most times, he has this blank space on his face, making you want to shrink in your comfy sweatshirt.

"You do it every rehearsal! It's weird." you insisted.

The people around you— Art, Cal, the other band members, and a few of your dancers— simply looked at each other. It's been weeks of you two working together and bickering over things. Everyone knows you hate each other's guts. At this point, you are just kids with these "fights".

You see Yoongi chuckled, putting a hand on his hip, "I'm just paying attention, waiting for your hand cues. It's something musicians usually do when rehearsing with the band."

Okay, that's reasonable— But still! You felt blood rushing to your cheeks but your jaw clenched. Because of course, the sarcasm in Yoongi's defense didn't go over your head. You were about to refute when Art clapped his hands together, signaling a time-out.

"Okay, please stop with this. We only have a few songs left and everyone deserves to rest before the show." he reminded you and your bassist. "Yoongi, please avoid looking at YN. YN just be clear with your signals. Raise your hand or something. Are we cool with that? YN? Yoongi?"

Yoongi sighed but nodded his head. Before nodding your head, you still caught that smirk that formed on his lips. The rehearsals continued as planned. Yoongi barely looked at you anymore and looked down at his red guitar instead, giving all of his attention to it. You don't know if he's being sarcastic. But you kept on biting your cheeks when you found him in the same position every time you looked at him again. Fuck, he's really not looking, huh?

You continued singing for a few more minutes, sipping water in between. You never raised your hand again for any cues.

"Okay, please enjoy your break. Thank you, everyone." Art said before letting everyone go.

You were walking behind Cal, on the way to your dressing room, when you felt someone following behind you.

"I didn't know you were a diva like that," Yoongi whispered.

His warm breath fanned your ear in that quick sentence, making you ignore the shiver you felt by his warmth and surprise appearance. He didn't even wait for you to look back and reply. Instead, he walked passed you and caught up with his band members outside the arena.

Now, someone's throwing daggers.

Minutes before the show, in the crowded backstage, Yoongi can feel your eyes drilling holes at him while Paul fixes his shirt for him. You were already dressed up and someone is just fixing your in-ear for you. You stood six feet away from each other but managed to have a quiet, petty argument. He stared back at you, raising an eyebrow. You squinted your eyes before rolling it.

I hate you, you mouthed.

He mouthed back, Diva.

Although you find one of the people on stage annoying, you don't let it affect your performance for the night. But you're petty and so is your bassist. At every chance you two get, you look at Yoongi and you always find him staring back at you even while strumming his guitar.

Some fans noticed it and began posting about it online, noting the chemistry between your eyes. Even the crew members felt awkward with how you and Yoongi always caught each other's strong gaze.

"What the fuck is happening between you two?!" a voice in your in-ear asked while you were hurriedly changing your clothes for your next song.

You didn't have time to reply with that one and just continued the show with a new plan in your head.

"Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing. Oh yeah, you just get it..."

After arresting one of your cute audience members and tossing them their fuzzy pink handcuffs, you began singing one of your hit songs. You are now in your sparkling, red bodysuit that goes with a mini skirt at its ends. It used to have a longer skirt but it got shorter after the bit earlier. You also have your matching boots with you that make you taller than ever.

"Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad's genetics..."

Your staring contest with your bassist is still going on. And if you stop to do one of your choreographed dances, your eyes occasionally focus on Yoongi.

"Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs? Oh, I hear you knockin', baby..."

The fans cheered when the screen showed him, who was trying to stop himself from smiling while looking at you.

"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno..."

At the end of the chorus, you still manage to continue your starting battle with Yoongi since you are walking around the stage. The only time you looked away was when another voice spoke,

"YN, if you want to continue your staring competition with Yoongi, can you just stand next to him? It's hard for the camera to catch you when you keep turning your head in his direction." the voice said, obviously giving up on telling you to stop whatever you and Yoongi are doing.

"You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah, ah, ah..."

You followed what you were told and stood next to him as you two looked at each other's eyes. You were pointing your finger at him as if you were singing those words to him.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions?"

A line before the infamous part of the performance, you stood in front of your bassist. Your back is to the audience, who is already losing their mind on what they are witnessing. You kept eye contact with him as you felt excitement fluttering in your chest.

"Have you ever tried this one?"

A smirk forms on your lips before squatting down and bouncing up and down, like you were riding an imaginary dick. The fans are livid, the rest of the band is laughing, and Yoongi is lost for a second, unconsciously biting his lower lip while still exchanging intense eye contact with you. You winked coyly before getting up and turning around to resume.

"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows?..."

Although dumbfounded for what felt like a minute, Yoongi still played his bass guitar perfectly. As soon as the chorus was done, you reached for Yoongi's chin and made him look at you.

"Adore me, hold me, and explore me. Mark your territory. Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one..."

With your angelic voice and pretty face in front of you, Yoongi just lost the game. He studied your eyes, then your nose, down to your lips that's saying those words to him. He is like under control by your angelic appearance. Suddenly, you don't mind him staring intensely and closely at you. Closer than the rehearsals earlier.

"Adore me, hold me, and explore me, I'm so fucking horny. Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one..."

If you hadn't gently pinched his chin during that line, Yoongi would have just lost it and forgotten that you two are in front of 35,000 thousand people.

Just before the last chorus, you let go of him and ran back to the center stage and danced while he played the riff. He watched behind you, and stared for a few more seconds, before shaking his head, enjoying the music the same way you do.

"You make me wanna make you fall in love!"

note | haha petty people

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

#bass guitarist! yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts drabble #bts aus #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #httpknjoon #Spotify

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pixiefelixie · 1 year ago

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Peach to my Mario

pairing — idolbf!leeknow x f!reader (From the Unveiling Love series!)

word count — 2.7k words

warnings — she/her reader, tiny bit of angst, stress, tooth-rotting fluff

summary — Minho always avoids showing affection to you in public which makes his friends and members worry about his relationship, thinking it might not be healthy. However, in private, Minho’s a completely different person. One day, he comes home early and takes the chance to invite you over. During a little gaming sesh, his members accidentally walk in on him being overly sweet with you.

It was just part of Minho's nature to avoid PDA. He never showed affection when you were out with friends, and he wasn't the type of guy to show you off or post you on social media, even on his private account. When you first started dating, you went out to dinner with Minho and some of his members and their partners. It was the first time you were out with him around other people. Whenever you tried to initiate any contact with him, he'd gently push you away and give you a look that said, "Not here," which, at first, bothered you.

This constant habit didn't go unnoticed by his members. They saw how he acted with you around them, which made them worry about your relationship. Some even talked to Minho, suggesting he show more affection, but he always replied with, "I know what I'm doing." This left them wondering, "Are they even a happy couple?" because that's all they knew. They were never shown the real side of Minho in a relationship.

You eventually got used to it over time, as he had a way of making up for it. When you two were alone, he was the sweetest. He showered you with love, and he wasn't afraid to show emotion. It was fascinating to see how different a person he could be depending on the setting, and as his girlfriend, you somewhat liked this duality. When he'd get home from an outing with you, he'd immediately pull you into a hug and smother you with kisses, becoming a completely different person than he was a minute ago.

You didn't complain about the lack of PDA anymore because you were grateful that Minho saw you as someone he could be vulnerable with. He wasn't afraid to share his struggles and ask for your help, and you appreciated the connection you had with him in this way. It was so rare for him to have such a bond with someone, which made it so precious.

One day, Minho arrived at his dorms earlier than usual, and it was a particularly stressful day. They were approaching a comeback, and the choreography needed to be finalized with a tight deadline. A professional choreographer was scheduled to review their dance, and they had to have it perfected by then. The pressure was especially heavy on Minho, as he was responsible for everything, being the main dancer in the group. Comeback season always brought a lot of stress for all of them. The producers had to handle the tracks, and they had to attend numerous meetings discussing potential concerts and promotions.

Usually, during this stressful and overworked period, he would be staying late at the company, leaving little time at home. So, it was rather unusual for him to arrive home early. When Minho reached the door of his dorm, he tossed his bag onto the couch and slumped into a seat. He unscrewed a plastic water bottle and downed it in a few gulps. Minho buried his face in his hands, threw his head back, and released an exasperated sigh.

He took his phone out of the front pocket of his backpack and texted your number.

"y/n, do you have a minute?"

right after he sent it out, it showed as "read," with an icon popping up indicating that you were typing.

"yea, of course. is everything alright?"

"i just wanna see you. and no one's home yet."

It shocked you that he was home already. You hadn't seen him for two weeks, given how busy he had been and how little time he had for himself. So, to you, it was surprising that he had texted you. You responded with a simple "kk" before getting up and preparing to leave. You were wearing gray sweatpants and one of Minho's shirts, but you decided not to bother changing, as it looked presentable enough. After all, it was just Minho.

You grabbed Minho's keys and phone, locking your own door as you left your apartment. Even though you had a car, navigating the busy downtown Seoul intersections often took longer than walking. Luckily, Minho's dorms were only a few blocks away, making it a short five to ten-minute walk. Upon reaching his building, you scanned your keycard at the lobby and opened the door after hearing the click. Minho had given you an extra keycard so you could visit him, although his roommates were unaware of this, as it wasn't something they would necessarily know.

You rode the elevator up to his floor, which was located quite high up, just one floor below the penthouses. Minho's apartment was notably larger compared to the others in the building, as he shared it with three of his group members. You went down the hallway and stopped when you saw his unit number.

You gently knocked on the door, not wanting to startle him. There was silence, so you decided to try the doorknob, and it turned out to be unlocked. You entered, taking your shoes off at the entrance before quietly making your way to the living room. As you entered the room, you found Minho sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the floor.

"Minho" You called out.

He jumped, snapping out of his thoughts and turned his head towards you. "You scared me"

"Did you not hear me come in?" You chuckled.

Minho shook his head, a small smile forming on his face. "I guess I was too lost in my own world."

You walked over and sat beside him, giving him a gentle smile. "Long day?" He nodded and leaned into your touch.

You wrapped your arm around him. "What can I do to help you relax?"

Minho sighed, looking at you with gratitude. "Just being here is enough. I missed you."

You smiled, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "I missed you too, Minho. "

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"Anytime," you replied, snuggling closer to him. "Why are you back so early, hm? Where's everyone else."

"They're still at the company, working on their own stuff now. I needed a break from the choreo, I couldn't think straight anymore," Minho confessed, rubbing his temples.

It was rare for him to take breaks for himself so you were glad he reached out to you in this moment. You continued to comfort him, running your fingers through his hair soothingly.

"You know you don't have to carry all the weight on your own, right?" you reassured him.

Minho nodded, appreciating your support. "I know, it's just... sometimes I forget."

"Well, that's what I'm here for – to remind you," you said with a soft smile.

Minho leaned into your touch, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a deep breath. "I'm lucky to have you," he murmured.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, letting the weight of the day slowly lift off Minho's shoulders. You could sense the exhaustion in him, not just physical but also the mental strain of the responsibilities he carried.

I gave a him a gentle squeeze. "Wanna play something?"

Minho looked at you, exhaustion still lingering in his eyes but a genuine smile playing on his lips. "That sounds good."

You made your way to the Nintendo Switch (Felix's, obviously) and powered up Mario Kart. As the game loaded, you handed Minho a controller, and soon, both of you were engrossed in the competition. The colorful characters on the screen and the playful banter between you and Minho helped to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

As you played, you couldn't help but notice the transformation in Minho. The stress lines on his face seemed to fade, replaced by genuine smiles and occasional laughter. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the private side of Minho that he rarely showed to the outside world.

"You're gonna lose so bad, Y/n, you don't know," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yea sure," you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips.

The races became more heated, with Minho throwing himself into the game, making exaggerated gestures as he maneuvered his virtual car. Every time you pulled ahead, he'd let out a theatrical groan, clutching his heart.

"I can't believe you'd do this to me!" he'd exclaim in horror, slumping dramatically in his seat.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Come on, Minho, it's just a game!"

But for Minho, it was more than just a game. It was a battle, a challenge that he took very seriously. When the races got particularly close, he'd lean in closer to the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. And when you crossed the finish line first, Minho faked his death right on that couch. He'd plopped onto your lap and stick out his tongue.

As you and Minho continued playing, the atmosphere lightened, and the stress from earlier seemed to dissipate. The room echoed with laughter as the two of you engaged in a fierce Mario Kart competition.

However, little did you both know that the other boys had finished their work and were on their way back to the dorm. As two of them approached the door, they exchanged glances, wondering if Minho was still immersed in his work or if he had finally decided to take a break.

As the door creaked open, Minho was in the midst of a loud cheer, having won a close race. Your lips formed a fake pout, teasing Minho for his impressive gaming skills. Before you could utter a word, Minho grabbed your face and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. With a satisfied grin, he plopped back down onto your lap, his eyes shifting to the TV which displayed his victory.

His eyes were fixed on the screen, and he didn't notice the entrance of his fellow members. Seungmin and Felix stood frozen for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene before them.

Minho, still admiring his victory, suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere. His eyes flickered from the screen to your face, and then he followed your gaze to the open doorway. There, standing in various states of shock and amusement, were his friends.

Minho's cheerful expression faltered as he registered their presence. He quickly disentangled himself from your lap, clearing his throat awkwardly and avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," he mumbled, attempting to regain his composure.

Minho's sudden change in behaviour didn't go unnoticed by them. The two exchanged puzzled glances, silently communicating their surprise at witnessing a side of Minho they had never seen before.

Seungmin smirked. "Didn't know playing video games could be so... intimate."

Minho's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he tried to brush off the situation. "No, just taking a break from choreo. Y/n happened to drop by."

You offered a friendly wave to the members, trying to diffuse the tension. "Long time no see."

"Didn't know he had such a soft side for you." Felix looked in your direction.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, Minho, you've been keeping this hidden from us."

Minho avoided making eye contact with anyone. "It's not a big deal. We're just hanging out."

Felix interjected, "Alright, alright, let the man breathe. Maybe he's just trying out a new gaming strategy."

Seungmin smirked, "Yeah, because everyone knows that cuddling enhances your Mario Kart skills."

Minho sighed, realizing he was caught in a situation he couldn't easily escape. The members, still amused, decided to join the gaming session, pulling up chairs and grabbing controllers. The atmosphere lightened up again as everyone got immersed in the races. Amidst the gaming chaos, you felt a subtle shift beside you. Glancing at Minho, you noticed a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. Seizing the opportunity, you casually leaned against him, and to your surprise, Minho didn't pull away. Instead, he subtly wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

Felix, ever observant, caught the moment and exchanged a knowing look with Seungmin. A mischievous grin spread across Felix's face as he nudged Seungmin, who raised an eyebrow in response. It seemed like the members were enjoying this unexpected revelation of Minho's softer side. Minho's hesitancy towards PDA seemed to going away slightly. He didn't shy away when you rested your head on his shoulder, and he even tickled you a little during one of the races.

The night turned into a fun and lighthearted gathering, with laughter filling the air as everyone bonded over Mario Kart. The initial surprise at seeing Minho in a more vulnerable and relaxed state slowly faded, replaced by acceptance and genuine enjoyment of the moment. As the clock ticked away, the group decided to take a break from gaming and sat together in the living room, sharing stories and enjoying the dinner Jeongin had eventually brought. It was during these moments that you could see a different side of Minho showing the side that wasn't afraid to be affectionate in front of his friends.

The members of Stray Kids, who had initially been concerned about Minho's reserved nature in public, began to see the depth of his relationship with you. They witnessed the way he looked at you, the way he smiled, and the subtle gestures of affection that spoke volumes about the connection you shared.

After dinner, as the night wound down, the members bid their goodbyes, as you went over to the door to leave. Minho stood up, indicating that he would walk you home. The others exchanged knowing glances, teasing smiles playing on their lips.

As you and Minho stepped out of the dorm, the cool night air greeted you. The city lights illuminated the streets as you began the short walk to your apartment. The atmosphere was comfortable, a companionable silence settling between you and Minho.

"I appreciate you coming over," Minho said, his tone sincere. "It's been a hectic few weeks, and tonight was exactly what I needed."

"I'm glad I could be here for you," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You don't always have to carry everything on your own, Minho. It's okay to lean on others, especially those who care about you."

He nodded, a grateful smile on his face. "Thank you,"

"Anytime," you replied, giving him a soft smile. "It was nice spending time with everyone."

Minho nodded, his hand finding yours. "I guess they know now," he added with a hint of playfulness.

You chuckled. "Well, it's not a bad thing. They seem to like this side of you."

He smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I can't escape their teasing now. They're gonna tell the other dorm all about it"

You squeezed his hand. "You'll be alright. Besides, it's nice to see you letting your guard down a bit."

Minho leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I guess you have that effect on me."

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to face Minho. "Well, this is me. Thank you for tonight."

Minho smiled, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. "No, thank you. I needed this more than you know."

You both exchanged a loving gaze, the unspoken understanding between you deepening. With a final goodnight, you entered your building, watching as Minho waited until you were safely inside.

As you settled on your couch, you decided to check your social media accounts before getting ready for bed. As you scrolled through your feed, you noticed a notification on Minho's private Instagram account. It surprised you because Minho rarely posted anything on his private account, and he had never posted a picture of the two of you before.

Opening the post, your heart skipped a beat as you saw a candid shot one of his members must've taken from tonight. It perfectly captured the essence of the night – both of you smiling at each other, a shared blanket over your laps, and controllers in hand.

The caption read: "Peach to my Mario"

Feeling a mix of emotions, you couldn't help but smile at the post. It was a small but significant step for Minho to share a piece of your relationship with the world, even if it was just on his private account.

"Photo credits?" One of the comments read, from Seungmin.

As you liked and replied to a few comments, you couldn't shake the feeling that this marked a subtle shift in Minho's approach to PDA. Maybe, just maybe, the night had not only been a release for him but also a realization that sharing moments of vulnerability with you and his friends wasn't something to be afraid of.

#lee know #lee know one shot #lee know skz #skz lee know #lee know fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids comfort #lee know fic #lee know imagines #soft #fluff #lee know fanfiction #lee know fanfic

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hyunjinsjeans · 5 months ago

Text

He knows (Chan ver.)

Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Chan is your husband and he knows you want to start a family, but how does he know? And what happens when he tells you he knows? This. This is what happens.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 1140

AN: this is my first piece of writing for anything K-pop-related on this site, please be kind! No proofreading, sorry!

You are married to this man. He defines himself by his job. He lived for it though, after working so hard to get to where he is he also enjoys it so much. So you can’t complain. But he does have one more thing he wants on his instagram bio. So far he is producer, singer, rapper and dancer. As of a year ago he is also husband. He knows the time is right. He knows you don’t want to pressure him but whenever you’re together he can sense the unspoken words flying around in the air between the two of you.

Oh yes, Chan knows. He knows how to read people, and you are top of the list of his favorite ones. He will read you like a book. He will understand even the things you don’t say, he will know the second you are ready. He will, however, wait for the right moment. Sometime when he knows he will have the energy, the free time and the emotional availability to do it.

He owes you his full attention if you are doing this together.

And once he seizes the opportunity he is going in for the kill. He proposes it in a serious tone. If it asn’t just the two of you, it would seem you were having a “family meeting”. He is straightforward about it.

“We should have a kid, Y/N. I think it’s time, I’m ready and you’re ready.”

And the words get caught in your throat because what the hell? You were incredibly ready. He knew this, you knew this. Your friends probably knew this.

From the way you cooed at any and every child under 5 whenever you spotted one, how little kids gravitated toward you at the park or at the movies and you always had a kind smile to offer them along with the helping hand finding their parents, to the way you seemed to constantly be handed strangers' babies at the grocery store or at airport lines.

It was no news. You always loved kids and after getting married and moving to your own home, you made it a point to have a guest room and an empty room. Chan had noticed. Why leave a room completely empty? “Just in case we need it someday” you had shrugged when he asked. But it was painfully obvious a few months into the move that you visited that room and stared at the empty walls with bright shiny eyes, with a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips in a way so subtle it was almost imperceptible, you always left the room with a sigh and a bowed head as if ashamed to have the plans you had for that room. Chan had witnessed it enough times to have you figured out. It brought a warmth to his heart, seeing how eager you were about the subject and yet you kept quiet because you didn't want to put any pressure on him, thinking he already had a lot to deal with as the leader of a very successful group.

So of course, the second he said those words you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh I was waiting for you to be ready!”

Chan lets out a joyful laugh, his eyes become tiny as his cheeks grow puffy with the glee in his reaction.

“I know!” He exhales, “but you didn’t say anything and I’m tired of it. When you want something -anything, please just tell me!” His expression softened "I'll always have time to listen to you, and there's nothing you can ask of me that I wouldn't give you."

He is leaning on the kitchen table while you’re sitting opposite him. You push yourself back on your chair and look at him with a side smile on your face, the rice cooker making its beeping sound to signal dinner is ready.

“How am I supposed to drop that one on you?!” You laugh as well, it’s clear you are not really arguing “Am I supposed to say “hey Chan, I want a baby” or what?”

“Well… yeah.” He scratches at his neck, “that’s okay, it’s a good way to start talking about it.”

You huff and look away, but ultimately you are pretty happy he brought it up. He knows this as well; there is no hiding your enthusiasm, you're practically buzzing.

“I do want to have a baby, Chan” you lean forward on the table, your elbows on the hard surface while you hide your smile behind your hands.

Chan sighs, stilling his laughter as he pulls the chair back to take a seat and stare at you. He poses his arms and hands the same as yours, mirroring your actions.

“I want that too”, he mumbles, shy but true.

“Can we have that?” You wonder, your eyes falling on his hands, soft yet strong.

Chan has held you many times, and supported you through different times. You know he can be a perfect constant to hold on to, but you wonder if his career can take this. If he can be there for you for this. Because if you are honest, your biggest fear is that he will put too much pressure on himself if he tries to be a leader and a good partner to a pregnant wife at the same time. You have always known him to be the kind of guy to step up without anyone asking him to. You have learned from him to be the same, to grow stronger for Chan to have someone to support him as well...but this time you have to be realistic, how much can you share the weight of things once you are also worried about the safety of a baby? How much stress can you take from him while getting ready to have a kid.

He drops his hands on the table, you have moved your gaze from his eyes to his hands to the table. You are doubtful, you are pulling away from him as you speak.

“We can.” He assures you, reaching out to pull your hands in his. “We can do this.”

Chan brings you back with his words, his tone is honest and bright. His eyes are full of joy and excitement.

You feel the warmth of his skin on your skin and look up with hope, your trust in him is so complete you nod, you don’t even think about it as you reply. You would die for your husband. You would take all the pain, all the responsibility, and hardships for him. And so would he for you. This is why doubting what you two can accomplish together is ridiculous, you shake your head from all those doubts and squeeze his hands between your own.

“Let’s do this.” You whisper.

--------

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redroomreflections · 11 days ago

Text

Her Best Secret

1950s Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and R are having an affair.

Note: I wrote this after watching Mother's Instinct with Anne Hathway and Jessica Chastain. I needed to make it gay. I don't know what this is truly but it's here.

Warnings: Smut and fluff kind off.

Picket fences. Two-and-a-half children. A dog in the yard. A steady job. A house on a quiet street. Nuclear family. Marriage. College. This was what life was about. The checklist of happiness, painted in bright colors and polished to perfection, like the chrome trim on the cars Sam sold so well.

Tonight, it all seemed true. The music drifted out from the open windows of Steve and Natasha’s house, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass and neighbors' laughter on the patio. The neighborhood had turned out to celebrate Sam’s big promotion—another shiny star on the life everyone was striving for. You stood by the punch bowl, watching as Natasha twirled beneath Steve’s hand in the center of the makeshift dance floor. Her laughter was light and infectious, her cheeks flushed in a way that made her even more stunning under the string lights. She looked happy—effortlessly so.

Your gaze lingered a moment too long before you turned away, your hand brushing absently over the fabric of your dress. Sam was recounting the story of his big sale to an eager group of neighbors somewhere nearby. You could hear his voice rise and fall, full of charisma and charm, the same traits that had swept you off your feet all those years ago.

"Mama, come dance with us," Claire demanded as she tugged on your hand. Your daughter was the perfect mix of the two of you, and she never ceased to make your heart swell. You smiled down at her, smoothing the hair out of her face and taking in her toothy grin.

“In a minute,” you promised, swirling the punch in your glass. “Let me finish this.”

“Okay,” Claire shrugged, already distracted. She launched into her version of the jitterbug as “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” spun on the record player. Her tiny feet shuffled wildly, arms flailing with abandon. It wasn’t quite the jitterbug but hers, and she owned it.

You smiled, watching her. The song brought back memories of Sam. You could almost feel the warmth of his hands around your waist, guiding you through the steps, the two of you laughing and stumbling over each other in the middle of your living room. A good memory.

“It’s a great party, right?” came a voice behind you.

You turned to see Sarah Wilson, her warm smile disarming as always. She was one of those rare people who could make anyone feel at home. Your sister-in-law had been a steady presence in your life, offering unsolicited advice and unwavering support.

“Oh, of course,” you nodded, eyes flicking between Claire’s eclectic moves and Natasha and Steve, who were swaying comfortably in the center of the dance floor. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Sarah chuckled, nodding toward the dance floor. “I didn’t think Natasha would ever get Steve out there. That man’s all business. But look at them now.”

You smiled into your glass, forcing a little laugh. “They seem like they’re enjoying themselves.”

“Speaking of enjoying,” Sarah said, her tone shifting as her gaze landed on Claire. “Your little one’s a great dancer. She’s got rhythm for sure.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a touch of pride.

“Have you two thought about giving her another playmate?” Sarah’s voice was casual, but her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The question was unexpected, and you took a step back. It was a fair question. Most couples with kids would have more than one. You had known that since the day Claire was born. But the thought of having another child—with Sam, of all people—made your stomach churn.

Sarah was waiting, and you knew her well enough to know that she would keep pressing until you answered.

"Oh, well,” you began, fumbling for an answer, “I’ve been thinking about returning to work. It’s just not the right time for us.”

Sarah arched an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Work, huh? Well, I’m sure Sam has his own thoughts about that.”

Before you could respond, Sam appeared beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his easy grin softening the tension in your chest.

“Oh, nothing,” Sarah said lightly, though her tone betrayed her nosiness. “We were just talking about Claire’s dancing—and whether she might get a little brother or sister someday.”

Sam glanced at you, his brow lifting in amusement. “Is that so?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you shrugged helplessly.

“She said she’s thinking about returning to work,” Sarah added, her teasing smile turning to him.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, Sarah. Leave her alone. She’s got enough on her plate without you playing matchmaker for the kids. If you'll excuse me, I want to dance with my wife."

Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother. Then, with a quick wink to you, she said, "Okay, okay, I can take a hint. But don't go too far. We're doing the fireworks after dinner and need help setting up all the chairs."

Sam took your hand and pulled you out onto the dancefloor, ignoring his sister, twirling you playfully before pulling you close. His eyes shone, and you wondered how much he had had to drink. It didn’t matter. You needed this right now; you needed to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and a distraction from seeing her with him.

"I didn't know you were thinking about returning to work," he said, his eyes searching yours.

"It's been on my mind, yes," You nodded.

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to," He tilted his head slightly. "You'd be leaving Claire with a babysitter or at daycare. We can afford to take care of her ourselves."

"I know, but..." You trailed off.

He grinned down at you, his frown barely noticeable as he leaned closer. “But what?”

You laughed softly, letting him spin you again, your hesitation hidden behind the dance. “I just… I like the idea of doing something for myself again, you know?”

Sam pulled you close, his hand firm at the small of your back. His grin widened, his tone teasing. “You mean besides raising the most beautiful kid in the neighborhood?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his charm. “Exactly,” you quipped, tapping his chest lightly. He pulled you tighter to him.

"I know it's what you want," He whispered. "But you look so beautiful when you're pregnant."

You rolled your eyes. "You're ridiculous, Sam."

"I'm just being honest," He said, his tone light and playful.

"You're drunk, and I'm tired." You tried to pull away, but he held fast, his hands firm on your hips.

"You know you want to," he teased, his breath hot on your ear. Finally, he sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You muttered, closing your eyes as his lips brushed your temple. When he moved to kiss your lips, you didn't pull away. You loved Sam. You really did. You always had.

And yet...

"Okay, lovebirds,” came Natasha’s voice, cutting through the music with playful ease. “Sam, let me take her away. It’s my turn to dance.” She said it with a teasing grin, the kind that made her so easy to like. Natasha, your closest friend, was a familiar presence, one the neighborhood never found threatening.

Sam chuckled, loosening his hold on your waist. “Fine, but don’t wear her out,” he replied with mock seriousness. "I need her tonight."

You pulled away and offered him a polite smile, careful not to meet his gaze.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sam exchanging a glance with Steve. The two men shrugged, their silent communication as effortless as their friendship. They knew nothing could come between the two of you.

“You alright?” Natasha asked softly, her voice low enough for only you to hear.

“I’m fine,” you replied.

She smiled, her lips curving into that mischievous way of hers, her eyes sparkling like she already knew the truth. “Good. Let’s go find some real fun.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your arm gently but insistently, steering you off the dance floor and down toward the basement. She fumbled for the light control before pulling the string.

“What are we doing down here?” you asked, a small laugh escaping as she guided you to the landing. "I'm going to twist my ankle."

Natasha continued. “Sometimes a girl needs to breathe,” she said lightly, though there was an undercurrent to her words. "And Steve keeps the good beers down here."

"Well, thank God for Steve," you laughed.

"Amen," Natasha nodded as she rumbled through the deep freeze. "Ah, we only have one."

"We can share it," You shrugged. "We have the best stories, and I think we've earned it."

"Cheers," Natasha said as she raised the can and pulled the tab to open it. She wasn't anticipating the rush of foam that exploded from the top, so she stepped back in horror. Droplets landed on the floor and her dress.

"Oh no," You groaned.

"Shit," She muttered, trying to brush the beer off her front.

"Oh, no. Natasha, I'm so sorry. Come here," You reached for the paper towels on the table and tried to wipe off the beer. "I think I made it worse."

"Yeah, me too," Natasha muttered, frowning as she dabbed at the wet stain. "God, I can't believe this. This is the worst."

You sighed, trying not to laugh. "It's not that bad. Just tell people it's a design feature. Or... or pretend it's a bloodstain. Tell people you got a little violent."

Natasha's laughter bubbled up, and she gave you a playful shove. "Don't joke like that! My blood is supposed to stay on the inside, thank you very much. Also, it's clear, and blood is red."

You chuckled, reaching for the can. "Here, give me some of that."

Natasha relented and watched as you sipped from the can. Her eyes never seemed to leave you.

"So...how's Sam?"

"He's...good."

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's it?"

You shrugged. "What do you want me to say? He's...good. Things are good."

"Mmm," she hummed, tilting her head slightly.

"What?" you asked, your voice coming out more defensively than you intended.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing. It was nothing. Just...work. Stuff. Things. Nothing important."

Natasha pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh."

You sighed, trying not to fidget under her stare. "He wants another baby."

Natasha blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I mean, I love Claire, and I don't know if we're ready for another baby. And..." You trailed off.

"And?"

"It's just...hard," you admitted quietly. "He's so attentive when I'm pregnant, and I get to spend a lot of time with him, and then when the baby comes, he gets so busy. It's just...hard. And sometimes, I think maybe it would be better if we didn't have any more kids."

"You don't want Claire to have a sibling?" She probed. "Are you guys being careful?"

"By careful, do you mean not letting him finish inside me?"

"Um, yes?"

"Then yes," you confirmed, nodding. "Do you really want to hear the ways Sam and I are practicing safe sex?"

Natasha laughed, the sound soft and low, a private melody just for you. “No, no, I don’t,” she said, shaking her head slightly. She would rather you not sleep with him at all. She sighed, the corners of her mouth tugging downward, then licked her lips—a slow, deliberate motion that drew your attention, as it always did. That shade of red was your favorite on her, and she knew it.

Her green eyes met yours, steady and probing. “Are you happy?”

The question hit you like a stray gust of wind, sudden and disarming.

“Of course,” you replied, the words tumbling out too fast, too practiced. “Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Natasha raised a single, elegant eyebrow, the expression laced with skepticism. “Because I can tell when you’re lying,” she said plainly, her tone cutting through your defenses like a knife through butter.

Your shoulders slumped slightly as you leaned against the countertop. The calm surface grounded you, though it couldn’t stop the swirl of emotions rising in your chest. “It’s just hard sometimes,” you admitted quietly, almost to yourself.

Her gaze softened, the sharp edges of her wit giving way to something warmer, something more tender. “Yeah, I know,” she murmured.

She set down the beer can she’d been holding, the metallic clink almost imperceptible under the weight of her words. Her fingers drummed on the countertop; the rhythm was uneven, nearly hesitant, as if her thoughts were tangled in the silence between you. The crimson polish on her nails caught the dim light, matching the glow in her eyes as she studied you.

“Sometimes,” she began, her voice barely audible, “I think we forget we’re allowed to want more.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the implication hanging like unspoken truths. You glanced back toward the stairs, where laughter and music blasted above you, but it felt a world away from this moment.

“And what if we can’t have more?” you asked, your voice trembling just enough to betray the depth of the question.

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Then maybe we take what we can get,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving yours. Before you could respond, Natasha's lips were on yours. Soft. Warm. Inviting. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from her body.

A quiet moan escaped her, muffled against your mouth, and you could taste the sweetness of the beer lingering on her tongue. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the familiar scent of her perfume. Your mind raced, and yet your thoughts were perfectly still. Her body was so different. Her touch was so different.

A loud thump, followed by the unmistakable sound of laughter, cut through the air. Then a cry and a scream of "Mama" followed. Natasha pulled away quickly, her face flushed, her breathing uneven. You glanced at the ceiling, the spell between you broken. That was the cry of your child.

"I should probably go and check on her," You said while Natasha spoke.

"We should probably get back," Natasha murmured.

You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. Wiping your mouth, you glanced back at her before heading upstairs.

*****

You could smell the firecrackers before you saw them, the sharp scent of smoke mingling with the sweet smell of hamburgers grilling. Claire sat in your lap, the three-year-old tired and sleepy from all the excitement. You couldn't blame her after the day chasing the other kids around the house.

Claire leaned her head against your chest, her eyes heavy with sleep. You rubbed her back absently, smiling at how her small hand curled around yours.

The sky was dark, but the backyard was lit by the string lights draped over the trees and the fireworks in the sky. You were amazed at how she could sleep through this. Sam sat next to you in the grass, his arms wrapped around your waist and his hands rubbing your side. He felt at home.

Briefly, you could see a flash of the light catching across a couple, and your eyes moved towards them. It was Natasha and Steve. He stood almost a foot taller than her, his arms wrapped around her midsection as she leaned back into his chest. They looked comfortable like they belonged together. How their bodies seemed to mold into each other was the kind of thing romance novels talked about.

They were so beautiful together.

The thought made you uneasy.

Sam leaned over and whispered in your ear, his breath warm on your skin. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you murmured, leaning into him. "Just a bit tired. She's a heavy sleeper."

He chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. His thumb brushed your skin, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"You know, it's our anniversary tomorrow," He said, his tone casual, but the meaning behind his words clear.

"Oh," you said, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

"Yeah, five years," he smiled.

"Wow, I can't believe it's been that long," you admitted.

"Me neither," he grinned, kissing your lips softly. You couldn't see Natasha's eyes on the two of you.

Sam looked up and noticed the fireworks lighting the sky. He nudged Claire and whispered, "Come on, sweetheart. You're going to miss the fireworks."

Claire lifted her head, blinking blearily. "No, Daddy. I'm sleepy," she whined.

"Come on, pumpkin. Let's watch the show," Sam coaxed, his voice gentle and coaxing. Claire groaned softly but let Sam lift her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said with a chuckle, “just for a little while.”

You watched them walk toward the edge of the patio, where the first bursts of fireworks lit up the night sky. Claire’s sleepy eyes reflected the vibrant colors as she yawned against her daddy's chest.

Five years. It was a long time. You'd built a life together. One you were proud of. One you were comfortable with.

Your eyes drifted to the couple again, and your chest tightened. Natasha and Steve looked so natural together. So at ease. And then there was you, feeling like an imposter. You weren’t the girl Sam fell in love with anymore. You weren't the one who wanted all the same things he did. And you couldn't tell him. You couldn't shatter his image of you.

Sam whispered something into Claire's ear, lifting her head to look at you.

"Mama, come watch."

"In a minute, baby," you called, your voice thick with emotion.

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. How could you be so selfish? Sam had given you everything. He had given you Claire. You were blessed, yet you couldn't seem content with what you had.

Natasha echoed in your mind: Sometimes we forget we're allowed to want more.

*************

Tuesdays were sacred. At exactly 12:30, without fail, Natasha would appear at your front door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she walked the three doors down. By the time the clock struck the half-hour, you would already have the kettle whistling on the stove and the good china laid out.

It started as a casual thing—a neighborly gesture during those quiet, lonesome afternoons when the house felt too big and Sam was at work. But over time, it became something more. A ritual. A promise.

This Tuesday was no different. You were finishing the vacuuming when you heard Claire shriek with laughter from the living room. You smiled to yourself, knowing what that meant.

You rounded the corner, the vacuum still humming, and saw Claire spinning in circles as Natasha crouched down to her level, a broad smile on her perfectly painted red lips.

“She’s getting good at this,” Natasha teased, catching Claire mid-spin and lifting her off the ground.

“Too good,” you replied, switching off the vacuum and leaning against the doorway. “She’s going to join the circus at this rate.”

Natasha laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Her gaze traveled to the hallway and the bags of groceries waiting by the front door.

"Let me help," She said, setting Claire back on the floor.

"Thanks," you murmured, grabbing the nearest bag. "I don't know why I let Sam talk me into doing this today."

"Probably the same reason I let Steve convince me to get the new patio furniture," Natasha chuckled, following you into the kitchen.

"He can be persuasive, can't he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he can," She agreed, her tone wistful.

"It's not a bad thing," You said, placing the bags on the counter.

"Tasha, come play," Claire begged.

"In a minute, little one," Natasha promised. Claire nodded and rushed back into the den with her toys.

"How about some tea?" You offered.

"You read my mind," Natasha smiled.

You took the teapot from the cupboard and filled it with water, watching as the steam rose from the spout. Your thoughts drifted back to that night in the basement, and you wondered if Natasha felt the same. There had been many nights like that. Many shared kisses. Shared looks. You think back to that night months again when you'd given her her first orgasm at the hands of a woman.

It was a moment that changed things. It was the moment you knew you were done pretending.

"I'm glad we have this," Natasha murmured.

"Tea?"

"No, silly. Time." She turned to look at you, her green eyes softening. "I'm glad we have this. This friendship."

You couldn't help but smile. "Me, too."

"So," Natasha said, leaning against the counter and folding her arms over her chest, "how are things going with you and Sam?"

You shrugged. "Good."

"That's all you're going to give me?" She prodded, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"There's not much to tell," you admitted.

"You guys had an anniversary a few nights ago," Natasha reminded you.

"Do we discuss the juicy details like that still?"

Natasha hesitated, then shook her head. "No, but I'm asking because I care about you, and I know Sam has been a bit persistent about the baby thing."

You sighed, turning back to the stove. You were silent.

"I'm sorry," Natasha said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, no, it's fine," you assured her. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, it's just me," Natasha reminded you gently, reaching out to touch your arm. "You can tell me anything."

You hesitated, then blurted out, "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "What are we doing? Is this just a...thing?"

Natasha blinked, her expression unreadable. "A thing?"

"Yeah, like, I don't know, an escape or something," you tried to explain. "Like, a distraction."

Natasha shook her head slowly. "No, no, I wouldn't say that."

"Then what would you say?"

"I'd say that I enjoy spending time with you. I'd say that you're a beautiful, smart, funny woman, and I'm lucky to call you a friend."

"But what does that mean?"

Natasha stepped closer, her hand moving from your arm to the small of your back. Her gaze never left yours, her eyes searching for an answer to a question she couldn't quite voice.

"It means that I care about you," she said softly. "And if you ever need a distraction, I'm here."

"What if I don't want a distraction?" You breathed.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't answer. Instead, you pulled her across the kitchen to the laundry room. You left the door open to hear Claire in case she needed you. In an instant, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to hers, kissing her like it was the last time.

She kissed you back, her hands resting on your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. Her tongue parted your lips, and you tasted the sweetness of her breath. Her hands moved lower, sliding over your curves, and you moaned softly against her mouth.

"Tasha," You gasped as her fingers traced the waistband of your jeans, her touch burning hot against your skin.

She broke the kiss, her eyes dark and hooded. "Yes?"

"I want you."

"I'm yours."

Her lips crashed against yours, and her hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, her touch making your skin tingle.

"Tasha, we can't Claire's here." You reminded her between kisses.

"She's playing," Natasha muttered, her fingers finally popping the button. Before either of you could ponder her statement, the front door opened. In a flash, Natasha was in the kitchen, pushing the rest of the groceries into the fridge as you attempted to gather your bearings. She was so fast.

"Hello?" Sam's voice called from the foyer.

"We're in the kitchen," You answered, closing the laundry room door and ensuring it was locked.

Sam walked into the kitchen, his suit jacket draped over his arm and his tie loosened. "Hey," he smiled. "I thought I'd surprise you guys."

"Well, it worked," Natasha laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot my lunch. I'll grab it and head out," Sam said, moving past the two of you. He glanced between you, his gaze lingering on your face.

"I'm going to finish the dishes," You murmured, turning away.

Sam stopped and frowned. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just feeling a little tired."

"You should rest," Sam stepped closer to you. "Have a cup of tea?

"I will."

"Good," Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek. "Love you."

"I love you too," You said, the words coming out automatically. Sam lingered, landing another sweet kiss on your lips.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at you, her expression unreadable. "Sam, before you go, can I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can I borrow a screwdriver? We're working on the deck chairs, and one of the bolts keeps slipping," She explained, her voice surprisingly steady.

"Sure, no problem," Sam said, digging through a drawer. He pulled out a screwdriver and handed it to Natasha. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Natasha smiled. "Oh, and before I forget, I'll have those pictures of Claire for you next week."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "And thanks for keeping them company."

"My pleasure," Natasha grinned.

"Okay, I'm heading back out. See you later, baby," Sam kissed you once more before disappearing into the foyer. The front door opened, then shut, leaving the house strangely empty.

"That was close," Natasha said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "Yeah, it was," you agreed. "But it was worth it."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," you said without hesitation.

"Me neither," She murmured, stepping closer.

You leaned into her, resting your head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. "Tasha?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there. For being my friend. For just being...you."

Natasha hugged you, her arms wrapping around your waist and her chin resting on your head. "Anytime," she said softly, and you knew she meant it.

*****

Drive-In Night was interesting. It's a couple's night, truly. The four of you would get together and watch whatever movie was playing. This time, it was How to Marry A Millionaire. You all piled into Steve’s car, a vintage Chevy that seemed as timeless as its owner. It was a tight fit, but no one complained. The air buzzed with the crowd's excitement as headlights flickered across the makeshift parking lot of the drive-in theater.

Natasha sat into the passenger seat, leaning her elbow out the window, her eyes scanning the packed lot with a subtle smirk. “I’m impressed, Rogers. Didn’t think you’d show up for something so… pink.”

Steve laughed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “What can I say? I’m broadening my horizons.”

From the backseat, you chuckled. “You mean Natasha dragged you here, didn’t she?”

“Guilty,” Steve admitted, glancing sideways at Natasha, who simply shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like Sam and I had a choice.”

Sam, beside you, snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Real gentlemen, right?” He stretched his arm along the back of the seat, pulling you closer. “But hey, don’t think I’m above enjoying a rom-com. I’ve got range.”

Natasha tilted her head back, laughing. “Sure, Wilson. You’ll be crying by the second act.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Sam fired back, grinning.

You rolled your eyes fondly. They constantly bickered like this, but it was good-natured. You could tell they were friends. Real friends.

The movie began, and the warm glow of the screen washed over the car. The plot unfolded with charm, full of meet-cutes, sassy best friends, and conveniently timed rainstorms. It wasn’t bad, but you couldn’t help but notice Sam shifting every so often, clearly restless.

“Alright,” Sam announced midway through a particularly swoony montage. “Steve, snacks?”

Steve glanced at Natasha, who was far too engrossed in the movie to notice him leaving. “Yeah, good idea. You girls want anything?”

You and Natasha exchanged a look. “Popcorn,” you both said in unison.

Sam and Steve left the car, their silhouettes fading into the crowd as they made their way to the concession stand. Moving closer to the front seat, you shifted and settled comfortably against the backrest.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder, a smile playing on her lips.

You smiled back.

The moment passed.

"You're so far away," You whispered.

"I know," she whispered back, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "Come closer," She whispered. You climbed into the front seat, quickly glancing at the long concession line.

"Is this better?" You asked, settling in.

"Much," she said, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"You're cute," She said. What she was doing was risky business. While it was dark, anyone with eyes and the guts to look your way could see.

"So are you," You responded.

"I want to kiss you."

"You do?"

"I do."

"I want to fuck you," She said.

Your heart hammered in your chest, the heat between your thighs growing with each passing second. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You leaned in. Her hand rested on your thigh, rubbing you through your skirt. "Tasha," you whimpered.

"Yes, kitten," she whispered.

"We can't"

"Why not?"

"It's too risky."

"No one's looking."

"What about Sam and Steve?"

"They're at the concession stand. And the movie is loud."

"But what if someone hears?"

"We'll be quiet."

"We've never been quiet," You giggled.

"We'll try," she whispered. She knew she didn't have much time. She needed this to happen and fast. Her hand slipped under your skirt, and she felt the dampness of your panties.

"Jesus, you're soaked."

"I can't help it."

"Neither can I."

She slid her hand down, pushed your panties aside, and plunged her fingers inside you. Your hips bucked, and you bit back a moan.

"So tight," She moaned.

"So good," You whimpered. She was an expert by now. She knew your body well and learned how to make you cum.

She fucked you hard and fast, her fingers hitting all the right spots. She was gentle while somehow being able to get you there so quickly. You couldn't moan or tell her how close you were. You couldn't even thrust into her fingers. You could only sit there and take it. Your face remained natural even as you closed your eyes. The pleasure was too intense, and you wanted to focus on it. You wanted to savor every second.

When you came, you bit down on your lip, drawing blood. Natasha watched you come undone under her hand.

"You are perfect," She whispered, leaning in and kissing your cheek. You were a trembling mess.

"Tasha," You breathed, trying to catch your breath.

"I can't wait to do that again," She said.

"Me too."

She kissed your cheek once more before sitting back.

You were her best secret.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you

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jo-com · 8 months ago

Text

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡° ➛ Recital

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Ballet reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: They show the whole world how proud they are for you by attending your recital, along with them was your cutesy little angel.

Genre: throuple and Wholesome moment with them

Note: This is not proofread and they contain grammatical errors also google translated french and dutch but i hope you enjoy

───── ─ ୧⋆｡🩰✧ ─ ───────

“Maman?” Your two year old daughter babbled, her hands moving up and down and fingers balled up to a fist—creating a grabby hand like gesture.

Motioning for Charles to carry her to which he gladly obliges.

“Yes, mon bébé, we are going to see maman” Charles said in a toddler like voice and then proceeds to twirl her in the air earning a cutesy giggle from their daughter.

“Stop, papa” she laughed, gripping tightly onto charles’ shirt to avoid slipping off his embrace. “Okay, okay, i’ll stop in one condition.”

Charlotte cocked her head to the side curiously; waiting for her dad to continue.

“With a kiss” Charles added, grinning mischievously as he stared at their daughter’s expression. Her once curious gaze turned into happy ones after hearing his “condition.”

“No papa, kisses are only for maman” she shook her head a ‘no’ and rested both her hands on her tiny hips.

She was trying to look intimidating but with her doey face she just looked like a bunny trying to act tough.

With that Charles erupted into a fit of laughter at their daughter’s movements. Making charlotte lean her head to the side and looked at her dad confusingly— thinking what made him laugh like that.

“What are you guys doing? Have you even finished getting ready?”

Charles freezes, hearing a familiar voice that came from the corner of the room to where the door was— and let me tell you; that voice does not sound happy. At all.

“Ah mon amour, yes we’ve finished” he chucked dryly.

“But papa, we haven’t put in my bows” she whispered, well she was trying to at least.

“I heard that” Max said, his brows knitted to a frown and hands rested in his hip. Wow like father like daughter.

Charles widened his eyes and scratched the back of his neck, mumbling a low ‘oh hehe’.

Max rolled his eyes, not in a mean way though more like a ‘i am going to kick your ass later’ kind of way. “We’re going to be late” he muttered and carefully took charlotte out of charles’ arms.

“Come on Mijn liefste (my sweet), let’s get you ready”

“Do you need any help, Mon cœur?.” Charles asked, wanting to ease his lover’s anger. He smiled from ear to ear showing of his dimples and of course max can’t resist that look.

He shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes this time, “sure darling”— Charles’ heart then swelled with love at the nickname.

Without a moment to spear the two of them started to fix Charlotte’s bow.

…

Finally, after what felt like forever they had arrive at the theater to where your recital was happening.

They walked along the crowded floor; looking for their reserved seat, and once they spotted their names they soon sat down and waited patiently for the show to start.

…

“Curtains up in five people,” the assistant director yelled, loud enough for only the people in backstage can hear.

You sighed nervously— shaking off the nerves with a few practice Battement tendu. You do that every performance you do, just to let out some of the pre show jitters. It somehow calms your nerves down.

After five minutes was up, the spoke person started to announce the performance and tiny little information about the recital; along with it was the curtains being pulled up to reveal all the ballet dancers including yourself.

The First song was then played and all of you started dance gracefully to the beat of the sound— who ever watched it, will be amazed on how Synchronized you guys were. As if you all were one person that’s playing tricks on their mind making them think that you’re plenty.

Amidst the crowd, there charlotte was. Her eyes fixated on your dancing figure; she was at awe on how beautiful and elegant you look just by dancing alone.

She mindlessly tugged Max’s tux without breaking her eyes off yours.

“Maman is so pretty papa” she mumbled.

Her heart full of adoration for her mom. She wishes she could be there at stage with you and hug you like crazy.

Max smiled, looking at their daughter as she gazed at you; eyes filled with proudness and love. He then tapped Charles on the shoulder and whispered what charlotte said to him.

Now the three of them were smiling brightly.

…

After the show ended, the three of them made their way backstage to your dressing room.

Charles was holding charlotte in his arm but she was quick to go down as soon, as you guys stepped in-front of your door.

She knocked frantically, waiting for you to open the door, when you did she ran as fast as she can and hugged you tightly down your waist.

“Maman, you looked so amazing back there” she yelled, her hug only getting tighter with excitement.

“Merci mon bébé” you smiled, stroking the roof of her head soothingly.

Both Charles and Max went towards you two and kissed the both sides of your cheeks.

“If you were there, you could see how adorable she looked” charles chuckled, making charlotte pout.

“You’re not supposed to say that papa” she grumbled and broke from your embrace and softly hit Charles’ leg.

Max and you giggled at the two; seeing them ‘fight’ was the cutest thing ever. At that moment you were so happy to have them, if you were to choose to replay one memory it would be this— the laughter from both your husbands and the pouty face of your daughter. Everything was just so perfect.

…

Miss.y/n just posted!

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Balletreview, Maxverstappen and 1,378,025 others

Miss.yn Merci to my number 1 supporters!🩰

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…

Sorry I couldn’t write for a while because of my writes block😭😭 but i js finished this and there are more in my draft so i hope you enjoyed!!

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dazzlerwriting · 2 months ago

Text

a long long time

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

pictures from pinterest!!

word count: 2.8k

summary: childhood best friends, who always felt a bit more about each other, finally see each other after 12 years. will all their wishes come true at the Seresin holiday party?

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers! fluff!! cheesy goodness!! no use of y/n but reader does uses she/her pronouns! pet names: sweets, sweetheart, darlin, tiny dancer. no looks are given besides an outfit!

an: this is heavily inspired by ‘Its been a long long time’ by harry james! definitely recommend listening to it while reading! can you guys tell i love when people dance together as a form of intimacy? thank you to my friends who have no clue who jake is, who proofread this. & thank you guys for all the love on my other two fics! this is incredibly new to me so to see that people like the stories is really amazing. thank you. likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Growing up, Jake Seresin was always by your side. Jake’s mom and your mom were best friends, meaning the two of you were destined to be in each other’s lives. Of course, you two went through the phases of disgust when one of you thought the other had cooties, but they never deterred your friendship. When you would fall off your bike and cry because you scraped your knee, Jake would immediately be by your side. Jake’s PeeWee football games never had a silent crowd, of course not. Little you would be right there next to his parents, screaming the loudest for him. A dance recital, nervous about your performances? Don’t worry, Jake would be right there in the front row next to both of your families, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

High school hit, and Jake became the star football player who girls and guys alike pined after. You on the other hand were a quiet theater kid, dancing still, and leading the school newspaper. Despite running in different social circles, you two were still attached at the hip. The sharp stares you received from girls who wanted Jake would burn into your head, but you never let that affect your friendship. The free time you two had was spent with each other, taking long drives when you needed to clear your head, watching new episodes of TV shows you both enjoyed, and studying together. There has always been a hint of something more between you two, but out of fear of ruining things, you never made a move. Although, there was a time during your senior year when the possibility of being something more didn’t seem as distant. You two had just taken a long drive to a field in the middle of Texas to watch the sunset. It was then that you two shared your first kiss, and then it was over, and neither of you brought it back up. You knew you had feelings for him. That wasn’t even a question. But those feelings would not outweigh your friendship, you’d rather have him in this way, than in no way at all.

When Jake got into the Naval Academy, you were ecstatic for him. He had been dreaming about getting out of here since you were little tots, and now he had his out. You got into a school an hour away for Broadcast Journalism, and he was just as excited for you. When you told him, he picked you up and spun you around, both of you reminiscing on the days when he would play with his model planes and you would pretend to report every little thing that was happening around you two. Graduation day came and went, and soon you were getting ready to send Jake on his way to Maryland.

“Don’t forget me when you become a hot shot pilot mister.” You said to him with tears in your eyes. He looked back at you with something that could only be described as melancholy and kissed your forehead, “I could never forget you tiny dancer. Plus we can still keep up with each other, and I’ll see you over the holidays!”

You two kept up with each other for the first two years of your college time, but communication became scarce. He didn’t come home for the holidays, you couldn’t blame him though. He finally got out of there, he was doing what he always wanted to do. Communication between the two of you completely went away during your junior year. You’ve kept up with him through your parents and his, and to say you were proud was an understatement.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s been 12 years since you last saw Jake Seresin. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about him a lot of the time. After you graduated from UT at Austin, you moved back home and started to work at the local news station as an Anchor. Your free time is spent with friends, going out to bars, or just brunch together. They always hound you about finding a guy, “Come on!! You’re single, hot, and an amazing person!” “You can’t just sit here all night, come meet Tyler, I promise you’ll like him! Please?” You knew they had good intentions, with their bright smiles and kind words. So you tried. You would go out with who they wanted you to, but every time, it felt as though something was missing. You knew what was missing, you just didn’t want to admit it. Seasons change but you don’t think your feelings for those

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The holiday season is always your favorite time of year. From October to January, you feel lighter. Walking around to see decorations everywhere, families laughing together, and hot apple cider to warm the now-cold Texas air. Work is busy, but you can’t complain, you love your job. Recently you covered a story about a baker and her husband who had just celebrated the 30th anniversary of their bakery by having the cutest reindeer cookies and a huge cake for everyone who may want a slice.

Tonight is the annual Seresin family Christmas party, and just like every other year, you hold on to hope that Jake will be there. You know it’s a stretch, but you can’t help but be hopeful.

You bought a new outfit just for tonight, a red cable knit sweater, a black mini-skirt with black transparent tights, and black leather boots that went up to your calves. After adding some touch-ups to your makeup, you decided you were ready to go, grabbed your purse, and headed towards the Seresin’s house. It was about a 5-minute walk from your new place, which is quite convenient, and you spent the entire walk with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about the pilot who stole your heart all those years ago.

Walking into the house you spent so much time at as a child, a sense of warmth feels you. The entire house smells like freshly baked cookies, Christmas lights twinkle along the hallway, and the sounds of laughter and soft Christmas music fills your ears. Mama Seresin sees you and you are immediately engulfed in a hug that could probably fix anybody who is on the receiving side of it. “Oh my goodness look at you!!! You get more beautiful each time I see you.” You felt your face heat up instantly, shying away a bit from her kind words. “Thank you mama Seresin. I’m happy to be here again, happy holidays.” She pulled back and had an incredulous look on her face.

“Thank me?? Sweetheart, you are welcome at this house any day, any time. Make yourself at home, tonight should be a wonderful night.” She winked at you and left you standing there in the entryway.

After making your rounds, you grabbed yourself a drink and sat on the couch watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” with one of Jake’s sisters. She kept looking over at you with a sly smirk on her face so you snapped, “What is going on with y’all tonight? First your mama winks at me, Elizabeth said she was ‘So excited’ for me tonight, and now you can’t stop looking at me like the cat who caught the canary! So what is going on?” With an exasperated look on your face, you fully turn to look at her. Charlotte just slides off the couch and smiles, “We’re just happy to see you and we are hoping you have a great time tonight.” With the cryptic answer said, she walks away leaving you to sit there in your skepticism.

After an hour or so, everyone has made it and dinner is about to be served. At least you thought everyone had made it, that is until you hear a knock on the door. Mama Seresin rushes to open it, and you lean over the arm of the couch to see who it is. You can’t tell if it's the winter air or who you see standing there, but a chill runs down your spine. In all his glory, Jake Seresin is standing there with several suitcases and a bright smile on his face. Taking him in, you notice he’s grown into himself in the last 12 years, His sandy blonde hair isn’t as long, he’s filling in the brown button-up shirt very nicely, and he’s grown at least 3 inches since you last saw him. He’s still got his cowboy boots on and a smile that could light up a room, so not everything has changed. Finally, you look back up to his face, and you lock eyes with the man who has never left your mind.

You stand, mouth agape, and the two of you finally make your way to each other. You meet in the middle of the entryway, and as soon as his arms are around you it’s like everybody and everything fades away. You stay there in the comfort of each other’s arms for a few more seconds and when you finally pull away, the sounds from the rest of the house fade back in. Looking at each other, you feel a warmth creeping up your neck, the chill from earlier has fully disappeared. “Hi,” you said with a shy smile as you fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve. “Hi sweetheart,” he replies with the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. The moment is broken when someone clears their throat behind you, “Dinner is ready.” You turn and see the Seresin women standing there with smirks across all of their faces. Looking back at Jake you realize he’s got a scowl on his face, and you just giggle a bit. At the sound of your giggle, he looks back at you, the scowl being replaced with a shy smile, “We can talk after dinner?” You nod your head and make your way toward the dining room.

Dinner is the most delicious thing, but you would never expect anything less from Mama Seresin. She always cooks things with love, which makes things 10,000 times better. Once you get turned away from helping with dishes, you make your way outside to get some air. It’s a bit chilly, the backyard is decorated with lights strung across the way, the music from inside the house carries softly across the yard although it’s muffled, and stars are shining so bright in the night sky. You see a plane fly across the sky and you huff out a laugh, realizing your dreams of seeing Jake again, came true tonight. At least you know why the family acted so odd tonight. You take a seat in one of the cushy chairs sat up in the backyard, and stare up at the sky.

Surely Jake didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight, Has he changed a lot? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? Was your pining so obvious to everyone that they sat this up? Your mind starts spiraling with thoughts, and a bit of nervous tension sets in as you sit out there. The music gets less muffled for a second, meaning someone has just opened the back door, but it’s quickly snuffed back out. You don’t bother to turn your head, your mind is busy with so many questions. In your peripheral, you see the man on your mind take a seat next to you. He looks up at the sky and you can feel the nervousness roll off of you both as you sit there.

You turn to look at him, right as he turns to look at you, and you both sit there taking each other in for a second. “So-” “It was-” You both start trying to talk simultaneously and once you realize, you both start giggling. You nod your head to tell him he can go first, and with a shy smile he rubs the back of his neck and says, “It was nice to see you again sweetheart, I was really hoping you’d be here.” That warmth from earlier creeps back up your neck, and you smile softly at him. “I was hoping you’d be here too cowboy.” You both just sit there with smiles, and after a few beats of silence you add quietly, “I missed you.” What you could only call longing, flashes in his eyes, before he smiles at you, “I missed you too tiny dancer.”

The two of you fall into easy conversation. He tells you all about the Naval Academy, and how he is the “best of the best,” which you don’t doubt. Once he sets his mind on something, he doesn’t give up. You learn he’s living out in San Diego, but he constantly misses the Texas skyline. You tell him all about your experience at UT at Austin, and how your job at the local news station is going. You both continue just telling each other what you’ve both missed out on.

At some point, the conversation shifts to relationships. You take a deep breath and ask, “So do you have anyone special waiting for you back in California?” He takes a minute to just look at you before responding, “No sweetheart, I don’t. Do you have anyone missing you tonight?” You let out your breath at the word “no,” and chuckle. “The only person missing me tonight is my fish, Mr. Speckle.” He throws back his head and barks out a laugh at that, before looking back at you with a wide smile. It shifts to a bit of an apprehensive smile before he asks, “Is there any reason? You’re a gorgeous girl who is amazing sweetheart, I’m sure guys are lining up for a date with you.”

You knew you could try and lie to him, but he knows you too well. He would immediately figure you out, so you shake your head and respond truthfully. “I’ve tried over the years. But every single time, it didn’t feel right. Something was always missing. It took me a while to realize what that was.”

“And what was that?” His face is a bit more hopeful now, or maybe you’re just going crazy. After a moment of just looking into his eyes, you turn to fidget with your sweater and finally speak. “They weren’t you Jake.” It came out softer than you thought it would. The silence surrounds you like a suffocating room, and panic starts to claw its way up your throat.

You’re about to apologize profusely when Jake finally speaks. “That’s why I don’t have anyone waiting for me sweets. They weren’t you. The gorgeous girl I’ve known since diapers, who has always been so caring. Who put others before herself. The girl who knows me and my family, and still chooses to be around us.” You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to absorb everything that was just said. Softly, you reply, “I will always choose you, Jake. The boy who didn’t let me go to bed upset. The boy who constantly cheered me on in everything I did. The boy who set his sights on something and chased it. ” Your chest feels lighter, while your heart beats at a lightspeed rate.

Looking at Jake, he has a boyish grin on his face, rubbing the back of his neck again. In the blink of an eye, he is in front of you with his hand held out. You look at him like you’re considering your options for a second, just to make him sweat a bit, but ultimately you take his hand with an affectionate smile. He pulls you close and wraps his arms around your waist, your arms going around his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt. The two of you dance to the muffled music coming from inside, under the twinkling lights of the backyard you’ve spent so much time in over the years. You look up at him to find him already staring at you. He’s got a look of love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees the same look in yours.

“So can I take you out tomorrow sweetheart? I should’ve asked you that years ago.” He asks with a smirk across his lips. You mirror his smirk as you respond, “You sure can cowboy. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You both slowly lean in, and your lips meet in a short kiss that makes fireworks go off in your stomach. You both pull away, but that one kiss isn’t enough. The two of you share another short kiss, before breaking out into a long deep kiss. He dips you a bit with this one. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of has come true under the twinkling lights. You’ll have to make sure to send the Seresin women some cookies and flowers for planning this.

From inside the house, the Seresin family is silently cheering. They’ve watched both of you pine after each other for so long, they knew y’all just needed a bit of a push in the right direction.

#jake hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

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ramp-it-up · 14 days ago

Text

Peach, Part I

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

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

———

Late October

Steve Rogers was frustrated.

His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.

Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.

Except that it wasn’t really.

“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”

Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.

More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.

“Behave. Or I will make you…”

Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.

All of the time.

It seemed impossible.

“I love you too, Frumoasă.”

Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.

When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.

“Everything good?”

Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.

“Everything is great.”

Then Bucky frowned.

“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”

The blond raked his hand over his face.

“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”

“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “

Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.

“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”

Bucky gazed out of the window.

“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”

Steve sighed.

“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”

The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.

“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”

Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.

—--

Early November

You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.

You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.

“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”

Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.

“See there! It’s better already!”

You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.

“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”

Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.

“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”

She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.

“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”

Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.

“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”

You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.

“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”

You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.

But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.

—--

“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”

Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.

“Okay, you know what…”

“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”

You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.

“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”

“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”

“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”

“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”

“Go get that nut video.”

Your cousin laughed at you.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”

“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”

Easy for her to say.

—---

The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.

Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.

The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.

On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.

He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.

It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.

“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”

The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.

“Yeah, well. Traffic.”

Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”

“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.”

Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.

“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”

Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.

“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”

Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.

“Sure.”

This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.

“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.

Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.

“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”

“Grant Stevens.”

A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.

“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”

Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.

—-

A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.

Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.

Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips were what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.

Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.

He was about to find out however.

Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.

“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.

Like you.

—--

“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”

"Dat azzz tho."

“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”

You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.

You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.

You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.

—-

When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.

Again, you were oblivious to him.

Steve, on the other hand, was undone.

Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.

As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.

Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.

You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.

Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.

Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.

When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.

You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.

Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.

You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.

—--

You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.

You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.

As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.

As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.

His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.

His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You were objectifying your new co-worker.

That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.

—-

Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.

Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.

“Hi.”

It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and your eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that were holding him captive.

Then that mouth started moving.

“Hello. You the new barback?”

“What?”

Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get nearer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.

The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.

“Are… you… new… here?”

“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”

You extended your hand to him.

“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”

“Peach?”

The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.

“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”

Steve was speechless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”

Steve’s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.

“That’s a stage name, right?”

Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.

Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.

You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.

“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”

—--

“Don’t beg.”

‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.

You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.

He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.

You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.

You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.

“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”

For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.

“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”

“Yeah. Solidarity.”

Grant cleared his throat.

“Great moves up there.”

—---

You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.

He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.

“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”

You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.

“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”

You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.

As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.

—----

Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.

He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.

Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.

He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.

He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.

“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”

Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.

Wait.

Were those spurs?

Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.

The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.

These were grown men and women.

And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.

Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.

The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.

You were brilliant.

You were what made Regine extra ordinary.

—---

You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.

“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”

He shook his head.

“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.

You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.

“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”

“I did pretty good.”

Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars excited him.

“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”

You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.

“Holy Shit!”

You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.

“There’s a stack in here.”

“Whoa! Cool.”

Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.

“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”

Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.

“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”

You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.

Steve thought you were adorable.

“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”

You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.

“‘Night, Grant.”

You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.

Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.

Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.

This one was a peach.

-----

Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!

Part II

#knock you down au #knock you down fic #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x dancer!reader #steve rogers x curvy reader #steve rogers x stripper!reader #mob boss! steve rogers #bucky barnes #mob boss! bucky barnes #chris evans #chris evans imagine

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biancadoes1 · 1 month ago

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Hi, I never do this but after this weekend something clicked with me. I know you and few other people has always said Nic and Luke don’t owe us anything. I truly believe that too, the fact is these two beautiful people let us into their lives a tiny part this year. It was the WT that hooked a lot of people to this ship( I for one). They both put their hearts and souls to making the best season for their fans. I for one will be forever grateful, they will never realise how their incredible connection saved me from of my darkest moments in my life this year. From watching this these two people become Lukola, I have found friends all around the world and it has been amazing. But let’s back to this weekend, people are mad at Nic for giving them all the run around this weekend. Do you know what I say good bloody on her. About time Miss Coughlan told everyone to shut their little small minded mouths up. Let’s start with the big elephant in the room. Would Nic really do all that? Well in my opinion yeah she would. For months Nic and Luke had crazy people explaining their life story instead listening to them who live it.

See we had NY pap gate, we had the pub pap gate, we had people ringing up hotels to see if A was staying with Luke in Rome, we had the phone screen gate, we had the Charlie X concert. Don’t get started on a certain person and her cult. Also a certain bad dancer trolling Nic and the fans for a long time. If I were Nic I would have bite back a long time ago. I don’t blame the girl for one second and hope she plays back at people more. I have always heard why would her friends go to all that trouble. Well would you not help out your good friend if they ask you for help. I would in a heartbeat.. I have done many times. So if everyone keeps saying that Nic is such a good friend. Do you not think her friends would jump at the chance to help her out. Yeah I do, in my opinion. Wherever Nic is I hope she is enjoying herself and doing plenty of Wordle 😏… roll on Friday to see her again. So even if we have lost a few people this weekend, well all I can say goodbye and good luck on your next ship. I am quite happy with the people who are still on the ship. I am going to into 2025 with a glass of champagne in my hand, looking forward to the next exciting chapter to come. 💜💛💜

💛💜

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okaylikeschaewon · 1 year ago

Text

Exchange Part 1: Behind the Stage

10k words, 10k more in part 2, male reader, smut

“What’s your name?”

“What?!”

“I said, what’s your name?” you shouted, trying your best to be heard over the blaring music.

She looked confused for a second before shrugging her shoulders, smiling, not caring about anything - but why should she? This was supposed to be one of the most prestigious parties of the year, she was young and cute and somehow found her way in, she should enjoy it.

The way she moved her body was impeccable - she must have some sort of formal training because no average girl knows how to move like she did. Her perfect body control, matching the music, oddly impressive attention to the little movements that just made her so much more appealing to you. Top it all off with the fact that it just looked like she was having a good time, this girl knew how to have a presence.

“You’re really good at this!”

She just smiled, you weren’t entirely sure if she heard you - not that it mattered.

“Come!” she shouted, pulling you by your hand towards the middle of the dance floor, finding a little area with some more space.

This girl knew no embarrassment, not that she had any reason to be, she was unbelievably confident in herself. Her hands were all over you, even though you were just an average dancer, she guided you, made you look like an expert while she did almost all of the work.

A few people started to take notice of her, giving a bit more space while cheering her on. She clearly loved it, a smirk plastered across her face as she knew her skimpy little outfit was flashing her body to the whole room. She was thin, small, petite, yet her thighs were full enough to make you lust for her, to want her, unable to take your eyes off her.

Then she turned around, and for the first time you got a view, a beautiful view, as half of her ass was hanging out of the tiny garment that could barely be called a pair of shorts. You were a bit taken aback, but she didn’t allow you to fester in nerves; She grabbed your hands and placed them on her hips before she pressed backwards, grinding her cute little ass on your crotch.

The jeering from the crowd could barely be heard over the music, but it could be heard nonetheless. The more they cheered her on, the harder she went. At this point pretty much every eye in the room was on the two of you, or rather it felt that way, as the girl was grinding her little ass against you.

Fueled by the attention, the girl pressing her ass into your body bent over at her waist and turned back, looking at you over her shoulder. That seductive smirk of hers made you realize her attention was all you cared about, all these other people were just bystanders. This was your little moment.

She winked like a professional, as if such a thing existed, before she began to twerk her ass up and down on you. The makeshift audience erupted in shouts, everyone watching as the cute girl bounced her backside against you. Her ass was so soft, especially for such a skinny girl, and the little side to side move she did further emphasized how this girl was not an amateur.

The song eventually came to an end, leaving you face to face with the cute girl again as the crowd around you began to dissipate. You still had your hands on her hips gently swaying side to side, both of you smiling to the fullest.

“Wanna take a break?” she asked, communication finally possible as the music calmed down.

“I’d love to,” you answered as she began to guide you through the room towards the bar.

“You’re pretty good at dancing!” she complimented, flagging down the bartender.

“Me? Are you kidding, you’re the one who looked like a damn pro out there!”

“I have some practice,” she giggled as the bartender walked up.

“It’s a pleasure to serve you,” he said respectfully. “What can I get for you, and of course it’s on the house.”

“Thanks!” she said cheerily before turning to you. “What do you drink?”

“I’m good with whatever you’re having,” you answered, slightly taken aback at how the bartender greeted her.

“Whisky please! Something nice.”

“You got it, I have the perfect bottle in the back for you,” the bartender replied before quickly scurrying away.

“Huh, didn’t chalk you as a whisky girl,” you said, leaning against the bar. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

“What, do you think I’m cool because I drink whisky?” she chuckled, leaning next to you.

“I’d think you’re cool even if you got us some cosmos.”

She smiled brightly at you, her eyes squinted in the most adorable endearing way.

“By the way, what’s your name?” you asked as the bartender returned with the drinks.

The girl picked up the two glasses and handed you one.

“Lisa.”

—

“Oh my God just look at her, she has the whole room gawking at her.”

“They’d be gawking at you, too,” Jennie replied casually, sipping on her vodka cranberry. “These rich execs are all so horny, you could just stand up there and you’d have like six guys on you.”

“I don’t want six guys, I’ll leave that shit to you,” Rosé scoffed, her attention fixated on a booth across the room. “Just one.”

“No need to be so defensive,” Jennie slurred, clearly tipsy, as she wrapped her arm around the bitter girl. “You should go for it, he has a huge cock.”

“You’ve already been with him?” Rosé spat, glaring at Jennie in disgust.

“Please, I’ve sucked more than half the cocks in this room,” Jennie laughed, leaning back again on the couch while stirring her drink with the little plastic straw. “Let’s not forget how many years it's been.”

“Don’t worry, none of us forgot how quickly you became a slut,” Rosé muttered, her eyes once again locked on the man.

“Oh stop being such a bitch about it,” Jennie rolled her eyes, tossing a keycard on the table in front of Rosé. “Go take him to the suite, you’re just as much of a slut as I am at this point.”

“That would be impossible, no one is as slutty as you,” Rosé fired back.

“Oh really?” Jennie raised her eyebrows. “Oh oppa, thank you so much for the song!” Jennie mocked her voice before pretending to gag on a cock. “Oppa I’ve never sucked a cock this big before.”

“That was one time!” Rosé argued.

“Oh oppa thank you for the ride,” Jennie continued, once again making gagging noises. “Thank you for lunch oppa!”

“How did you know-”

“Oh oppa I ruined my new dress, I need to be spanked.”

Rosé snatched the keycard off the table, glaring at Jennie for a moment before the two of them broke down and started laughing. Rosé leaned over and gave her a quick hug before standing up and grabbing her bag.

“I’m going to have to talk to our staff about kissing and telling,” Rosé whined playfully.

“It’s not their fault, I basically forced them to tell me,” Jennie laughed, leaning back into her seat.

“You sure you don’t need it?” Rosé asked, holding up the card.

“Half the execs here would suck my cock if I had one, I’ll just get another one if I need it,” Jennie replied nonchalantly. “Go have your fun, I wasn’t joking about him having a huge cock.”

“Thanks,” Rosé said excitedly, waving goodbye. “I’ll meet you two in our room later tonight!”

“Yeah, if you ever stop getting dicked by him,” Jennie laughed as Rosé rushed off.

It only took probably three minutes before Rosé had snuck off with the man.

“Why’re you so down?” Jennie asked casually. “We’re just fucking around, coming to one of these doesn’t actually make you a slut.”

Jisoo bit her lip, looking around the room, stirring the little plastic straw of her barely-touched drink.

“Hey, come on, it’s basically just a formality for you to be here,” Jennie continued. “You’re allowed to have some fun.”

“I don’t know if this is for me…” Jisoo mumbled. “I might just head back.”

“I told you, I’ll do that stuff for you, you just have to be in the room,” Jennie tried to reassure her while sending one of the waiters a silent message. “Please, stay.”

“Why are you even doing this for me?” Jisoo asked quietly. “You didn’t do it for the others.”

“Because those two are already huge sluts,” Jennie chuckled briefly before abruptly becoming serious. “I’m kidding!”

“So why, what makes me so special?” Jisoo demanded, putting the glass down, about to spill tears.

“I just… it’s not that big of a deal for me, and I want to help you out,” Jennie answered as the waiter approached the table with four shots of tequila. “Also I know they’ll never give you your solo if you don’t make an appearance.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me Jisoo, I do,” Jennie sighed. “Rosie and Lisa were the same, at first they also didn’t believe me, and look how long they waited.”

“You don’t…”

“Jisoo, please, it hurts me knowing you’re the only one left,” Jennie begged, grabbing Jisoo’s hands and staring earnestly into her eyes. “You deserve this, one night and then you’ll get everything you deserve.”

“One night…” Jisoo whispered, a dead look penetrating deep within her pupils.

“It’s really not as bad as it sounds,” Jennie attempted to bargain. “It’s actually a lot of fun, and I’ll be the one actually doing everything. You literally just have to sit there and look pretty, at most you’ll strip down a bit.”

She nodded slowly, finally accepting her fate. Jennie, ecstatic as could be, quickly grabbed two of the shots and held one out to Jisoo. After staring at it, hesitating, she accepted the drink.

“To the final solo!” Jennie cheered, holding the glass up before the two of them downed the drinks simultaneously.

“I still hate tequila,” Jisoo shuddered, slamming the glass down on the table.

“Good thing I got us two each then.”

—

“Holy shit, why is your room so nice,” you marveled at the luxurious suite. “And how many people are staying in here?”

“Four of us,” Lisa mumbled as she made her way over to the minifridge, stumbling slightly. “What do you want… to drink…?”

“Whoa there Lisa,” you quickly ran up behind her, grabbing her by her armpits to hold her up. “I think maybe we slow down on the alcohol, just for a bit.”

The two of you had spent far too long drinking downstairs. You were finding out a lot about her, and the bond the two of you seemed to naturally have felt unreal. Never before has a girl had this type of effect on you, it felt like she might be something special. Despite talking for so long, there was still so much you didn’t know about her.

“Why!” she whined, putting all of her weight on your arms as she craned her neck to look up at you. “I’m not… drunk…”

“Right, not drunk,” you agreed with her as she slowly fell down to the ground, sitting there giggling.

“I’m not drunk!” she giggled while on her knees.

“Yeah, I got that, you’re not drunk.”

“You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” she asked, her voice suddenly becoming unexpectedly dispirited.

“No no, really, I believe you,” you lied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to come on the bed for a bit?”

“No,” she replied softly. “Can we hold hands?”

“Uh, yeah of course,” you said, taking her outstretched hand in yours. It was odd, having her sitting on the floor next to the bed, but it was also somewhat wholesome in a way. “So, Lisa, are you a celebrity or something?”

“Do you really not know?” she asked slowly, as if each word required immense mindpower to get out. “I figured everyone knew.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m part of Blackpink!” she said cheerily, letting go of your hand turning to face you, sitting cross-legged. “Have you heard of us?”

“Oh umm, yeah I think I’ve heard of you guys.”

“Liar,” she laughed, leaning back on her hands.

“No really, that name sounds familiar!” you argued, racking your brain trying to remember.

“If you knew, you’d know.”

The name did sound familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was mentioned by your boss, something about tonight?

“Can I suck your cock?”

Your train of thought immediately crashed; Surely you misheard her. There was no way she actually just said what you think she said.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She got up onto her knees and crawled towards you, reaching for your crotch.

“Whoa,” you quickly grabbed her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I want to suck your cock,” she said casually, trying to pull down your pants. “I’m really good at it, I promise.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you hesitated, trying to hold her back.

“Why?” she snapped, suddenly extremely ferocious. “Do you still think I’m drunk?”

“No!” you lied again, trying to make sense of the situation you got yourself into.

“Am I not pretty enough?” she asked, her anger replaced by sorrow.

“No, that’s definitely not the issue.”

“I’m not drunk,” she pouted, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

“I’m not saying you’re drunk,” you attempted to cheer her up. “I’m just saying-”

“Let me suck your cock or else I’m going to find another man,” she growled, her eyes full of rage, but then just as quickly as she got angry she flipped the switch again and began smiling at you sweetly. “Please!”

This girl was insane, but she was so unbelievably cute that your tipsy self decided fuck it, might as well go with it. How could you refuse her when she was literally on her knees begging, and you were pretty sure she wasn’t making empty threats when she said she’d just find another cock to suck. Why should someone else get the pleasure anyway?

“Fine, if you really want to,” you sighed, as if you were doing her a favor.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, enthusiastically undoing your belt. “I can see how hard you are, stop playing games.”

“Of course I am, you’re fucking gorgeous,” you replied.

She looked up at you with her hands on your waistband. Her smile was so pure and precious, she was adorable, sitting there on her knees. That soft smile she flashed at you, it almost felt like you were falling for her in this moment - or perhaps you were more inebriated than you realized.

“Can you hold my hair?” she asked, snapping you out of the wholesome thoughts as she yanked down your pants.

“Sure- ahhh,” you cried quietly out as her mouth immediately plunged down your cock.

She wasted no time at all, within just seconds she was bobbing her head down your cock. There was no doubt in your mind that this girl had sucked a few cocks in her days, that much was painfully clear based on how she moved, and her experience just made it that much better for you. You quickly bunched her hair up in your fist, making sure you could clearly see her cute face as she thoroughly coated your shaft with her saliva.

“Holy shit Lisa,” you moaned softly. “You don’t mess around.”

No response, just continuous shoving of your cock down her throat. She started going deeper and deeper, you began to feel your tip poking against the tightness of her throat each time she plunged downwards. She was focused, extremely precise yet still sloppy - perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as you thought.

Most girls started slowly, maybe lick around a bit, a few kisses here and there. Lisa, however, was not like most girls. She was hungry, and apparently only your cock could feed that appetite. There was zero apprehension, she eagerly sucked your cock, her pretty little face completely stuffed, and she liked it.

“Does that feel good?” she asked as her lips flew off your cock, replaced by her hand. She stroked your length, spreading the saliva from her throat along your shaft as she shoved her face against your balls, licking them with all the passion in the world.

“Yeah Lisa, it feels good,” you moaned, closing your eyes. “Really fucking good.”

The touch of her hand disappeared from your shaft, as did her tongue from your balls. Then, suddenly, your cock was engulfed in a warm tightness. Your eyes shot open to see Lisa’s lips pressed against your crotch, your cock all the way down her tight little throat. She held her face there, staring up at you the entire time - apparently this girl didn’t know the meaning of gag reflex.

“Mmmmmphmmmph,” she moaned with her mouth stuffed full of your cock, her lips moving up and down your length slowly. She had absolutely no difficulty throating your whole cock, and she even seemed to enjoy it as she repeatedly brought her lips down all the way.

The back of her throat was opening up comfortably for you, offering very little resistance while it still squeezed your cock. You were throbbing. She was just so beautiful, her cute little face partially shielded by her bangs, that grip you had on her hair that made you feel in control - but let there be no mistake, she was in control.

Lisa had you under her spell, using her mouth to satisfy every need your mind and body could possibly have. She began bobbing up and down quickly, this time bringing one fist to the base of your cock to join her mouth’s movements. Her other hand firmly gripped your balls, but very gently rubbed them around. Her hand was so soft, her slender fingers massaging your cock from every angle.

“You’re going to make me cum,” you moaned softly, bringing your other hand up to her hair as well. With two hands grabbing her head, you could feel yourself nearing climax.

She wouldn’t let up. Knowing that you were about to come didn’t dissuade her at all, she continued to suck your cock with her exuberant passion. Lisa moved both of her hands onto your thighs, sitting up a bit more, and began throating your cock as fast as possible.

Her new leverage offered so much more control as she slammed her lips into your body with power, with burning passion. Each time her mouth bobbed down on your cock, you felt yourself get just a bit closer to the point of no return. She began to thrust her mouth hard, using a lot more power with each one, holding your cock down her throat for a moment each time she went down.

Grunting and moaning, you finally hit the wall. Those couple of seconds where you had hit your climax, right before your cock began unloading, those couple of seconds lasted an eternity. Time might have frozen entirely, not that you would have noticed. The warmth of her mouth around your cock felt divine, unreal, out of this world. Reality smacked you in the face just like that, your release began to fill her mouth.

Shot after shot of your cum flew down her throat, and she didn’t even flinch. You knew that you were filling her mouth just by feeling alone, but confirmation arrived swiftly as the white goo began to spill out of the sides of her lips. She didn’t care one bit as she held her mouth glued to your cock, even as your cum overflowed.

With a mouth full of your cum, she throated your cock a final few times, leaving the white mess all over your shaft, before removing you from her mouth. A hefty glob spilled before she could tilt her head back, mouth wide open to show you the white pool of your seed coating her tongue. She closed her mouth, gulped without any hesitation, and then smiled brightly at you.

“What the fuck Lisa,” you moaned, falling onto your back and staring at the roof. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Told you I was good at it,” she bragged before her tongue returned to your body, licking up any remnants of cum off your cock. “Your cum tastes so good.”

“I think I love you,” you moaned as her tongue poked at your tip, greedily trying to coerce some more out of your body, sending shivers up your spine.

“I get that a lot,” she giggled before standing up and laying down on top of you, her face on your chest. “Could a drunk girl really do that?”

“You’re not drunk,” you whispered absentmindedly, still recovering from the blowjob as you squeezed her butt.

“So, how long do you need before you are ready to fuck me?” she asked casually. “It’s only nine, the night is young.”

“It’s nine?” you gasped, quickly returning to your senses.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, her hand rubbing your thigh.

“Lisa, I hate to ruin the mood, but I have to leave,” you informed her remorsefully.

The rubbing ceased abruptly, but she refused to look up at you, letting only one word fill the room; That one word wasn’t one of anger, or frustration, but rather it was filled to the brim with heartbreak.

“Why?”

“They do this thing, a sort of hazing, I don’t really have a choice,” you explained. “It shouldn’t take too long, I can come right back after.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, and you’re leaving?”

“I know and I wish I didn’t have to, but I’d lose my job if I didn’t show up.”

“Am I not worth losing your job?”

“Lisa…”

“Forget it, I know how these things work, it’s not my first time at one of these parties,” she sighed.

“I really want to stay, but I just can’t,” you said with exasperation.

“That’s what they always say,” she said quietly. “I fall for it every time.”

“Fall for what?”

“All you guys are the same, coming here all dressed up pretending you want to get to know me and all that bullshit just to fuck me and leave,” she sniffled, failing to hide her emotions. “This is why I don’t bother getting invested.”

“It’s not like that,” you tried to explain.

“It’s fine, just go,” she snapped, rolling off and turning away from you. “There are a hundred men just like you downstairs who can fuck me instead.”

“Lisa, I promise I’ll come back,” you argued, reaching for her shoulder.

“What kind of hazing is this anyway?” she snapped again, her whole body jerking away at your touch. “What exactly do you have to do?”

“They didn’t give me details,” you answered carefully. “I promise I’ll come back after, if you let me.”

She turned around to face you again, her eyes welling up; She looked so incredibly vulnerable right now, full of emotion, and you felt terrible knowing you caused this. You never wanted to hurt this girl, she was adorable in the best of ways.

“Don’t make empty promises, you’re the first guy I’ve met at one of these who…” she muttered quietly. “As soon as you’re done, alright?”

“As soon as I’m done,” you repeated.

“I’ll be waiting here,” she continued. “I’m not heading back out there, I’m going to wait here. Waiting for you.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” you whispered before hesitating.

You wanted to kiss her, she looked too cute, yet despite her sucking the life out of your cock just a few moments ago, you were being shy. Why did it take so much courage? You had no idea, but you mustered up that conviction and went for it, hoping for the best.

—

The club was just as rowdy now as it was when you were here with Lisa earlier. If anything, it was even more full of energy now as you went deeper into the night. You maneuvered around the edge of the room, noticing far more audacious activity going on in the booths. Not that it shocked you, these booths were reserved for the more prestigious members of the event.

After walking past a dozen or so blowjobs, some more subtle than others, you noticed the balcony your company reserved was full of people. You had access, and part of you wanted to see what was going on, but instead you focused on getting over with your little adventure - you wanted to return to Lisa as soon as possible.

It was as you continued making your way towards your meeting spot that you noticed what was happening on the balcony. There was a girl, she must have been popular because there was a literal crowd watching as a man picked her up. You only got flashes of what was going on through the mass of bodies, but you filled in the blanks as you saw two guys holding her up between them.

“Crazy shit right?”

You turned to see a man wearing half a mask sitting in a booth, watching you.

“Yeah, she must be someone special,” you replied casually, taking a seat in the booth. There were two other guys also at the booth who nodded at you as you sat, but they were very much preoccupied by two skimpily dressed girls. “Where are the masks?”

“She is, but we get to work with someone just as special,” the masked man said while handing you one of your own - a bunny mask. “Apparently earlier she was also there,” he continued while nodding at the balcony. “Guess one of the execs really wanted her for himself.”

“Yeah I don’t think she’s being very exclusive up there,” you commented as the bodies parted for a brief moment, giving you a view of the girl bent over getting spit roasted. “Kinda looks like it was her idea.”

“You’re probably right,” he laughed. “She’s definitely the biggest slut in the group.”

The group of you sat there for a bit, watching the scenes unfold around you. Random girls kept walking up to your booth, knowing that anyone with a booth would have some relevance. The masked guy you were talking to now also had a girl on his lap and another between his legs. You had been refusing every girl who offered to join you - Lisa was the only girl on your mind right now.

“Alright who’s next,” an extremely burly man asked while walking up to the table. “Looks like you’re new,” he added, looking at you.

“I’d go another round,” one of the other guys in the booth piped up.

“Get yourself another promotion and then you can join them up there,” the bodyguard laughed before turning to you. “Come on, I think you’re the last one.”

You stood up and followed him out of the club and down a hallway. There were a few other masked guys in the hallway which you walked past, knowing that they all had some level of power in their respective companies if they were here.

“She doesn’t look as enthusiastic as some of the others,” the bodyguard commented while walking you towards a door. “Did they explain how it works?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, your mind still preoccupied with Lisa.

“It’s just a facial,” he explained. “Touch her as much as she lets you, if you want to fuck her then you have to convince her yourself. Do whatever you want as long as she is fine with it. She is allowed to stop whenever she wants. If she says stop, listen to her.”

“Got it.”

“There’s a camera in there, take a picture of it after you’re done,” he continued, holding the doorknob. “Take as long as you want, go a couple of rounds if she lets you, just make sure you take at least one money shot picture, got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” you answered, Lisa finally slipping from your mind as the bodyguard began to open the door.

Immediately inside there was a little curtain which you walked through, just to be greeted with another one. Behind you, the bodyguard closed the door as you walked through the second curtain into a large, luxurious room. There were bookshelves up to the roof, a large table, a number of big couches, some nice chairs, but the middle of the room was where your attention went.

On a king size bed sat one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen in your life, wearing nothing but a pair of floral purple underwear. She was the type of girl who could have the whole room’s attention by just breathing. It was your job to coat her face in your cum, this would be an absolute dream come true if it weren’t for one little issue - she was crying.

“Excuse me,” you said softly, trying not to startle her.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, quickly turning away from you and furiously wiping her face. “I didn’t know you were ready.”

“Don’t apologize, take a second and then we can talk,” you said while walking over to the table and picking up the camera.

Your jaw dropped as you looked at the picture preview. There were at least nine pictures, unique pictures, of this girl with her face coated. Your heart sank, and you didn’t have it in you to scroll and see how many there were in total.

“Okay, I’m ready,” the girl sniffled, turning back to face you. “I’m really sorry about that, please don’t tell them.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” you tried to calm the frantic girl down. You carefully took a seat on the bed next to her, purposefully not staring at her almost-nude body. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she stammered as she moved closer to you. “Is my hand fine or would you like me to use my mouth?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked nervously, unable to get past the image of what this beautiful girl had been through so far tonight.

“I have to do this!” she replied with a raised voice before immediately apologizing again. “Please, I didn’t mean it.”

“How about we first start with this,” you said while reaching up and grabbing one of the pillows from the top of the bed. You placed it on her lap, returning just a touch of her dignity. “What’s your name?”

She looked at you in pure astonishment, as if you were some kind of alien.

“Jisoo,” she muttered, her eyes still wide open.

“Tell me about yourself, Jisoo.”

“I’m…” she paused, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. “I’m a singer.”

“And how does a singer end up in this kind of… situation?” you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“I… volunteered,” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling in your periphery. You turned to look her directly in the eyes, those eyes which were quickly filling with tears when she suddenly started crying again. “It’s the only way,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“Jisoo, I’m not going to force you to do anything,” you said softly while patting her back. “It’s not too late to stop all of this.”

“I’ve come this far,” she muttered, wiping her eyes carefully with her fingers, trying not to further damage her makeup. “I can’t stop now.”

It was difficult for you, but you also knew how these things worked. If you refused to comply, she would most likely get blamed, revoking whatever rewards she was working towards. The rows of facials on the camera flashed before your eyes as you stared at her, you didn’t have it in you to be the reason she failed tonight.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Just the hand is fine.”

Her jaw dropped in shock - you immediately realized you were probably the first person tonight who refused the blowjob. That at least made you feel a little better, making you the best of the worst for this girl. She got over the surprise after a couple of seconds and wrapped her arms around your body, slowly tugging down your pants.

“You’re the first one,” she confirmed as you lifted yourself just enough for her to remove your pants. “Touch me as much as you want, just promise you’ll warn me before…”

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your hands off her.

Tenderly, she wrapped her fingers around your shaft. She moved slowly, painfully slowly at first, getting used to the details of your cock. With how the two of you were seated, you had a perfect view of Jisoo’s little cleavage, with a backdrop of her thighs.

“Do you like it faster or slower?” she whispered, lifting her face towards you while her hand pumped a bit quicker.

“Faster,” you replied, glancing at your cock to see her hand steadily stroking away.

It’s not that she was bad at it, but you could tell something was missing. She was nervous, apprehensive - almost as if she was scared to touch you. Making her comfortable became your goal, the question was just how?

“Stop me whenever,” you whispered softly into her face before placing your hand on her thigh.

Inch by inch, you moved up her leg, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. Your gaze was deep, looking directly into the retinas of her gorgeous eyes as they sparkled, still slightly dewy from earlier. Your hand eventually made it right up to her purple panties where you paused.

Jisoo’s hand also briefly stopped pumping, but after a couple of blinks, fluttering of her eyes, she resumed her handjob, slower now. You slid your hand up some more, rubbing just above her nether region. Slowly, giving her every opportunity in the world to stop you, you slipped your fingers into her underwear.

She exhaled sharply out of her nose, her hand involuntarily pumping your cock faster, as your fingers made contact with her pussy. You moved your hand a bit lower until you had three fingers pressed against her clit. Your fingers began rubbing in a circular motion, pushing her to release a moan from time to time.

Her eyebrows began to angle upwards, those beautiful features of her face gently contorting in pleasure as you toyed with her. The faster you rubbed her, the faster her own hand moved, in a way giving you control over everything.

Your fingers began to steadily collect her liquids, lessening the friction of her body as you rubbed her pussy even faster. You could feel her breaths hitting your face now, her pretty winces, eyes shut tight. She was really getting into it.

Then you pressed a little bit lower down her body, two fingers rubbing up and down while your middle finger toyed with the idea of entering her pussy. She gasped, eyes shooting open as your finger teased her hole. Those deep breaths of hers turned into sharp grunts as your fingers touched her without regard.

You ran your middle finger over her entrance again before pulling your hand back up, returning to her clit - you had no intention of inserting. She looked relieved, or perhaps she was just overcome with pleasure, it was hard to tell anymore. One thing that was easy to tell, however, was how much wetter her pussy was now.

She was definitely getting close, and her grip on your cock began to falter. She was still trying her best, but it was clear her own pleasure was taking precedence over yours - which you were completely fine with. You rubbed circles around her clit some more, just like you did when you first started touching her, but this time you were far more aggressive.

Making her cum became your drive as she squirmed, panting and grunting. She was as close as she could physically be to her limit, it would just take a little bit more on your end. With her pussy flowing all over your fingers, you decided to keep your movements steady, not switching anything up anymore.

Her hand was barely holding onto your cock at this point, and stroking was a long forgotten act. You could physically feel her orgasm coming. Suddenly, it shot through her body, the initial waves forcing her into a frenzy of writhing as her thighs clamped down on your arm.

“Ahhhh,” she cried, her eyes wide open but not seeing anything.

She began to moan - loudly - as her body thrashed around on the bed. She came all over your fingers, her purple panties completely soiled. Crying out, her body jerked backwards, and she lay there with her back on the bed, slowly trying to control her breathing. You watched her chest heave up and down until eventually her legs relaxed enough to let you slip your hand out from between them.

“You’re the best,” she moaned, voice breathy, as you lay down on your side next to her. Her eyes were leaking, not from despair like earlier, but from pleasure. She took a couple of minutes to just recover until her breathing finally calmed down. “Now, let’s get back to what you’re here for.”

“If you insist,” you said with a smile as she climbed on top of your body.

“Can I use my mouth?” she asked softly.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, out of all the men I’ve…” she said before pausing, the pain in her face showing for a second before she continued. “You’re the first one who I actually want… the first one who deserves it.”

With both of your hands, you held her face and kissed her passionately. At first she was hesitant - perhaps from the shock of your confidence - however, it wasn’t long before she accepted the kiss. Not only accepted it, but returned it. This level of passion should be impossible from such a short time together, yet for some reason Jisoo felt different. For some reason, you felt like you had known her for years, and kissing her just felt right.

“Forget all those other men,” you whispered into her face, holding your mouth right in front of her. “You did what you had to do, tonight doesn’t define you.”

“Then let me do things I shouldn’t do,” she whispered, running her fingers down your chest while sliding down between your legs.

After contemplating it for a second, you agreed, leaning back on the bed and pushing your crotch forward. She smiled bright, her eyes squinted again, it was extremely cute, but cute wouldn’t be an apt description of what was to follow as she moved her face over your lap.

Admittedly, she lacked the skill of Lisa, but Jisoo’s touch was so tender that it made up for her lack of experience; You had to ignore the sharp tinge of guilt you felt, thinking about Lisa, reminding yourself this was something you had to do for your career.

Jisoo wasn’t just trying to get you off; She was making love to your cock with her mouth. It wasn’t a lusty blowjob, it felt like she was your partner. Ridiculous, obviously, as you had just met her, yet for some reason she made you comfortable, just like Lisa did.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, reaching your hand onto her shoulder and massaging it gently while you placed a pillow below your head, making it easier to watch her work. “You deserve the best, Jisoo, you are the best.”

Her inner pride must have ignited because her lips began moving just a bit faster, pressing down just a bit harder, and her mouth became just a bit wetter. She must love the praise, you were probably the first man tonight to actually appreciate her efforts.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you groaned softly. “The prettiest girl in this whole club, maybe in the whole world.”

Perhaps it was part of your imagination, but you could have sworn you saw the corners of her lips curl up in the most subtle smile possible - all that was allowed while you had your shaft in her mouth.

“There’s no face more perfect,” you whispered, pushing the few strands of her hair that fell forward behind her ear again. “The perfect canvas.”

She released your cock with a gasp, breathing heavily, staring seductively up at you.

“Cover my face,” she whispered as she jerked you off, her hand moving twice as fast as before. “Please cum on my face.”

The dichotomy of her pretty face and her filthy words drove you insane. A girl this pretty had no right begging to have her face coated in cum, her face was one for magazines and photoshoots, not one to be used as a target for your orgasm.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned as she once again brought her mouth to your cock. “Just a bit more.”

No rest, no complaints, she put in the effort, and you body appreciated it. Getting sucked off was one thing, getting sucked off by a girl who wanted to was a whole different experience. Jisoo, falling into the latter category, felt phenomenal with her lips hugging your cock warmly.

Watching her orgasm earlier had primed your body, alongside the fact that one of the prettiest girls you have ever seen had your cock in her mouth, and you could feel yourself dangerously close. You had to remind yourself of your goal here as a fleeting thought flashed through your mind: If you finished in her mouth, you’d get another round with her.

Not to Jisoo, though, you simply did not have it in you. She was special, and the way she was sucking your cock made it seem like the feelings were mutual - or you were being delusional because you were about to cum. Either way, you reached down with your hands until she got the hint and grabbed on.

She locked eyes with you, her fingers intertwined with yours, her lips pouted on your cock, and her face bobbing up and down. A few strands of her hair blocked her gorgeous face partially, but she couldn’t look prettier if she tried. Your cock was heating up, about to release into her mouth, when you let go of her hands.

“I’m-” you moaned, luckily that was enough of a heads up for her.

Jisoo gave you a final few hefty pumps, squeezing your cock tightly with her lips, before pulling back. She slid down your body until she fell off the bed and onto her knees. You quickly picked yourself up, standing right in front of her.

Cock in hand, you brushed her hair out of her face and behind her ears, stroking yourself right in front of the unrealistically beautiful girl. She was looking up in anticipation, chin up, eyes ready to shut as soon as the first streak landed.

She did just that. After a violent recoil from the first gush of cum landing on her upper lip, she shut her eyes tight and held her face steady. It didn’t look like she particularly enjoyed it, but she remained fixed in front of your cock, accepting each and every pump of your cum onto her face. She was beautiful before, but having your seed plastered across her nose and lips made her look so much better.

With cum all over her mouth and nose, your final, less forceful, spurts dripped down onto her chin. She moved her face forward slightly, catching it all, not wanting to waste a drop. Once your cock stopped pulsing in your hand, you squeezed from your base, adding the remaining cum to the pool on her mouth.

“Camera,” she mumbled, holding her face up in an attempt to hold all the cum before it spilled.

You quickly rushed over, grabbing the camera and snapping a picture of her. After carefully placing the device aside, you crouched down next to her and put your hand on her back. For a few minutes the two of you simply sat there, taking in the events of what just happened. You met an unrealistically beautiful girl, and now she was sitting next to you with your cum plastered all over her face, dripping down onto her thighs.

“I don’t quite know what to say.”

“If you wanna be like the others, this is when you start begging to have sex with me,” she laughed, the pain in her voice sneaking through again.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through this,” you said, gently rubbing her back. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No,” she answered softly. “Thank you, for being the most tolerable one tonight.”

“Thank you for…” you replied. “Yeah…”

It was a relief that she still had the ability to laugh after the events of the night, especially since her laugh was so endearing. You hoped she would succeed in achieving whatever goal she was pursuing given how diligently she worked tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to deny her now.

“Well, I should probably get going,” you said awkwardly. “There’s actually a girl waiting for me.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No, I met her tonight.”

You received a judgmental glance from Jisoo.

“She’s not that type of girl,” you defended yourself. “I really like her.”

“Then I hope you two have a lovely night,” she said with a chuckle while wiping her face on the bed sheets. “Sorry that you had to do this, maybe don’t tell her about it.”

“You, too,” you replied, leaning in for a hug. “I’m glad we met, even if the circumstances were a bit… weird.”

“Can I ask one thing before you go?”

“Anything.”

“Do you mind taking off the mask?” she said shyly. “I know you’re not supposed to, but-”

“Here,” you silenced her, lifting the half-mask up and smiling. “Now you know I’m a real person.”

“Oh there was no doubt about that,” Jisoo laughed. “Your cum felt very real.”

“I hope we meet again one day, under different circumstances,” you said finally before standing up.

“Me as well.”

After leaving the room, you met the guard from earlier in the hallway as well as two others.

“Just head back to the booth and sit tight while we check on her,” he instructed as two other men walked into the room.

“Sorry, but would it be possible for me to head out?” you asked, once again thinking about Lisa waiting for you.

“Not just yet, might need you for the finale,” he replied. “You definitely don’t want to miss that one, if you get picked you get a hefty reward.”

—

“My God she is such a slut.”

“Come on boys, why is my throat so empty?” Jennie asked the crowd of suited executives around her. “It’s almost like you don’t even want to fuck me.”

A rush of bodies began shuffling around, trying to get closer to her, begging to be picked - begging for a turn with her. Jennie knew there was a never-ending supply of cock for her to take, she just loved seeing how badly they wanted her. It turned her on like nothing else knowing these men would do anything to put their cocks inside her.

“No one? Are we done, then?” she teased as a few of the men stroked themselves in front of her nude body. She leaned back on the beanbag she was seated on, lifting her legs wide for everyone to see. “No one? I kinda want my asshole filled up again, can’t anyone do that for me?”

“Please Miss Jennie!” one of the men shouted, dropping to his knees in front of her with his head down.

Jennie pressed her foot against his forehead, pushing it upwards so that he was looking at her in the eyes.

“Are you going to fuck my little asshole?” she asked while sliding her foot around his mouth.

“Yes, Miss Jennie, if you’ll allow it,” the man begged as the crowd began laughing. Even though they were laughing, most of them were secretly wishing to be in his position right now, jealous that he had the nerve to act.

“But my little asshole is still so full of cum from the last person,” Jennie whined frivolously while turning around onto her hands and knees, looking back at the man over her shoulder while spreading her ass for him. “Can you at least clean it up first?”

The man didn’t hesitate for even a second before shoving his face between Jennie’s cheeks, not caring at all about how filthy the act truly was. The crowd was cheering, a few of the men were moving closer to Jennie in hopes that she would pick a couple more of them. They all knew Jennie was rarely satisfied with just one cock in her - at least that’s what the last hour or so would indicate.

They were right, Jennie beckoned for a few of the men who had their cocks out to move closer. She effortlessly took one in each hand, and a third into her mouth, all while the first man was still eating her ass out. Her face bobbed back and forth aggressively, random drops of cum from earlier falling off various bits of her body.

“Miss Jennie, you’re requested downstairs.”

Jennie released the cock from her mouth and turned to see a trio of bodyguards in front of the crowd.

“What happened?” she asked, still stroking the two cocks in her hands. “What’s so important that you’re ruining my fun?”

“Miss Jisoo is ready for part three, the finale.”

“Part three? I thought she was done already?” Jennie asked with her eyes wide open, her hands releasing the cocks. “What was part two?” she demanded, angrily pushing the man licking her asshole away as she stood up and grabbed her long coat.

“Facial train,” the bodyguard answered, motioning to one of the other guards to collect Jennie’s clothes before following Jennie as she hurried towards Jisoo’s room.

“She did a facial train?” Jennie gasped, speeding up her pace. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“We thought you knew,” the bodyguard said, speeding up as well to keep up.

“No I didn’t fucking know!” Jennie screamed, basically running at this point.

She slammed the door behind her as she pushed past the man guarding the door to enter the room. Jisoo was inside, sharing a bed with a man.

—

“She chose you,” the bodyguard explained as you followed him back to Jisoo’s room. “She didn’t even hesitate, you were the only one she even considered.”

“What do I have to do now?” you asked while following.

“The instructions are written here,” he said while handing you an envelope. “I don’t think she knows yet, so you’ll be the one to tell her.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you said as you approached the door.

“Hey, you’re an insanely lucky man,” the bodyguard said, turning to you. “Ignoring the fact that you’re going to be fast-tracked for a promotion thanks to her picking you, you also get to be with one of the prettiest girls at this entire party. Do you have any idea how long the regulars have been waiting for her to finally come?”

“No, this is actually my first one as well,” you replied.

“First… you seriously are the luckiest son of a bitch in this whole building,” he laughed. “Alright, go treat her well, she obviously took some sort of liking to you.”

Hesitantly, you walked into the room, past the curtains where you found Jisoo sitting on one of the couches wearing a purple bathrobe. In her hand she held a little makeup kit, applying mascara to her bare, just-showered face.

“Hey,” you announced as you approached her.

“Hey,” she replied back, flashing you a very short smile, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I know you said you had a girl waiting, but when they asked me… I didn’t know who else…”

“It’s fine,” you quickly said while rushing to her side as soon as you noticed she was about to break down again. “Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you through this, alright?”

She looked up at you and smiled warmly, her eyes leaking down her cheeks. You reached up with your sleeve and wiped her face before holding up the envelope.

“Do you want to read it together?”

“Read it to me,” she said quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” you said softly while taking a seat next to her and opening the envelope. “Dear Miss Jisoo, if you’ve made it this far that means you have done an amazing job. You’re almost done now, there’s only one final request if you would be so kind to cooperate. You’ve surely already picked your favorite participant from part two by now, and for part three you and your chosen will…”

“Will what?” Jisoo asked as you paused. “What does it say?”

“You and your chosen will also be recording a…” you hesitated again. “Jisoo, remember you can stop this at any time, you do not have to go through with it.”

“Recording a what?” she demanded despite already knowing the answer, tears forming in her eyes again.

“Furthermore, if your chosen is unable to produce a video up to our standard, we will provide a replacement. You have our sincerest assurance that the video will never leak, it will be exclusively for company use,” you quickly finished the letter, skipping the line.

“They’re all going to watch me get…” Jisoo’s voice faltered.

“We don’t have to do this,” you replied, empathy filling every fiber of your being. “I’ll be here for you, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“You’ll also get a huge promotion for doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Forget about what I get, this is about you.”

She looked up at you with a face full of emotion - appreciation, maybe?

“I’ve never…” she whispered, nervousness dripping out of each syllable. “It would be my first time.”

“Jisoo,” you whispered back, taking her hands into yours. “It’s entirely your call, take as much time as you want to think about it.”

“I know we just met,” she said quietly after a moment of contemplation. “But if it had to be with someone…”

She waited, thinking about it some more, and you sat patiently, holding her hands still. They weren’t shaking anymore, she even seemed calm.

“I’ll only do it if you’re one hundred percent sure,” you said firmly. “The only thing that matters is what you want to do.”

Before she could answer, the door shot open and another girl ran through the curtain.

“Jisoo I’m so sorry!” she screamed, running up to the bed and flinging herself into Jisoo’s body. “I had no idea, please please please forgive me.”

Jisoo said nothing, she didn’t even move. No reaction at all to the girl hugging her, not until she let go and a single tear slid down her cheek.

“Jisoo please, say something, I’m sorry!” the girl begged to no avail before turning to you with a sour expression. “Who are you? Did you also join in-”

“Do not attack him,” Jisoo scowled, finally speaking up. “He was here for me when you weren’t.”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t undo what I went through tonight,” Jisoo replied coldly. “This was your idea, I never wanted to do any of this, yet somehow I’m the one who had guy after guy paint my face with their cum.”

“Jisoo…”

“And what were you doing?” Jisoo screamed. “Queen Jennie was too busy getting fucked by the whole club. The Queen of dick doing what she does best, but she still just couldn’t keep her promise.”

“Please,” Jennie pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of Jisoo. “Tell me how I can fix this.”

“You tell me,” Jisoo hissed. “For the finale I’m going to lose my virginity in front of an audience, and it’s going to be recorded. You tell me how you can fix this.”

“Let me talk to them,” Jennie begged. “I’ll convince them to let me make the video instead.”

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat. “Maybe it’s best if the two of you figure this out without me.”

The two girls turned to you in shock, it was like they completely forgot you were also there.

“You can’t leave,” Jennie said dismissively, barely even shooting you a glance.

“I’m sorry,” Jisoo apologized a bit more empathetically. “If you leave, it looks bad on me.”

“Uh,” you hesitated. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Jennie turned away from Jisoo to face you. She looked you up and down with her arms crossed before sighing heavily and tossing off her long coat, exposing her completely nude body underneath.

“Stop pretending you’d pass on this,” Jennie said with an eyeroll.

It suddenly dawned on you, this was the girl from the balcony earlier. The girl getting gangbanged right in front of everyone.

“Why are you just staring,” Jennie snarled before grabbing your hand and placing it between her legs. “Can you fuck this pussy or not.”

“Jennie stop,” Jisoo shouted, her eyes full of a focused rage. “I like him, don’t treat him like one of your fucktoys.”

Jennie let go of your hand and turned sideways to face Jisoo again. The curves of her body right in front of you as she casually stood there in the nude, facing sideways. You won’t lie, in a purely physical way, she was definitely fuckable.

“Fine, then you talk to your boyfriend,” she complained. “Or better yet, you can just fuck him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jisoo retaliated angrily.

“Then stop acting like he’s interested in more than shoving his cock in you,” Jennie snorted. “I bet he also made you use your mouth, just like all the-” Jennie’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the loud crack of your palm slapping against her bare ass echoed throughout the room.

“What the fuck?” she turned to you again, her jaw dropped in utter shock.

“Yeah I’ll make this video with you,” you said while standing up. “Let’s go talk to them about it.”

After taking a couple of steps towards the door, you stopped and turned around to see Jennie still standing there like a statue, stuck in place.

“Coming little slut?” you asked. “Let’s get this over with so you can go back to taking four cocks at once.”

Jisoo tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle her giggle, earning her a sharp glare from Jennie. When she turned back to you, her eyes were full of fire, she was still unable to believe someone would treat her like this. Odd, considering her actions earlier, you thought as you walked back in front of her.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like this?” she hissed into your face.

“I’ll talk to you however I want,” you replied, not taking your eyes off hers for even a moment as you shoved your hand between her legs. “If you’re going to act like a little slut, I’m going to treat you like a little slut.”

“I’m still…” her voice trailed off as an unsolicited moan escaped her lips in response to your two fingers jamming up her pussy.

“Still a little slut?” you mocked her, forcefully groping her tits with your free hand. “You’ve started leaking, does the little slut like being called a little slut?”

“Fuck you,” she said with a crack in her voice that made her cheeks glow pink. She shoved your hand away and stormed off towards her discarded coat as you released a puff of air from your nose. “Shut the fuck up,” she added while stomping towards the door.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered to Jisoo who was smiling at you, tremendously amused by how you were treating Jennie.

---

Part 2

#kpop smut #smut #fanfiction #blackpink #blackpink smut #lisa smut #jisoo smut #jennie smut #rose smut #dubious consent #male reader

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astarioffsimpmain · 4 months ago

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Cozy Up with: Gale

[Autumn photography by: coldoctober]

[Gale photography by: unknown - if it's you, please let me know so that I can tag you!]

Author's Note:

Okay so....... maybe it's become a series that I like to call "Cozy Up". LOL I'll probably do another one with Astarion since the first was pretty short, and I'm hoping to do more bg3 characters as well! Here's our beautiful, wonderful rizzard in some post-game domestic bliss: autumn-themed! Hope you enjoy.

You smiled as your eyes followed the colorful leaves in their path from the trees to the ground, carried on the wind like dancers performing a routine. The weather had turned crisp in Waterdeep, the night air boasting an even colder chill on the balcony of Gale's tower, where the breeze from the sea swept up to rustle the wind chimes that were a gift from your fiancé once you moved in.

A shiver ran through you and you curled further under the massive blanket Gale had on the settee. It was your idea to sit outside. You didn't mind the fact that your ears and nose were numb. This was your first autumn in Waterdeep; your first autumn as a fiancé(e). Autumn was always your favorite season: the sweeping changes in the colors of the landscape, the crackling energy of something new and wonderful in the air, and the eerie glow of the large harvest moons in the evenings. You wanted nothing more than to experience this shift with your soon to be husband, who was currently fixing hot cocoa for the both of you in the kitchen downstairs, and probably supplementing Tara with some warm milk before he returned.

You rubbed your feet together and admired the two pumpkins that sat on the balcony across from you, faces carved in them by you and Gale, glowing brightly with the spell the wizard had used on them. "It's a tradition in Waterdeep!" Gale had exclaimed with excitement while urging you to find a pumpkin you liked from the stall.

You'd heard of the practice, of course - carving a face into a gourd and lighting it to keep the evil away - but in Baldur's Gate, there wasn't a guarantee your warding gourd would be left alone for very long if left outside where they were meant to be, so most people lit candles in their windows and drew faces on their doors with coal instead to ward off the evil. So many firsts for you this year, and so far, you were enjoying them all.

The clank of cups on a tray brought you back to the present and you turned your eyes to the patio door, where Gale had appeared with two steaming mugs and a dazzling smile on his handsome face. "Here we are! My mother's famous recipe." He said, carefully handing you one of the mugs by the rim. You sighed in audible relief as your cold fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic, the effect taking hold immediately. A single sip had a satisfying chill running up and down your spine before your entire body began to warm from the inside out.

"Mmm Gale, it's perfect, thank you." You hummed happily, your mug held close to your face to allow your nose to defrost as well. He chuckled in response and sat down next to you with his own cup, pulling some of the blanket over his legs as he settled in. Your pull to him was immediate, and you were nuzzling into his side the moment he was in reach. He opened his arm to you just as quickly and pulled you closer by your shoulders.

The scent of weathered book pages and amber flitted across your senses, enveloping you in a sense of safety and belonging as you rested your head in your usual place under Gale’s arm. You looked out over Waterdeep over the balcony railing, and the city was littered with tiny flickers of candlelight as people ducked in and out of shops, restaurants, and taverns far below. Motion in your peripheral caught your eye and you smiled to yourself.

Gale had conjured a mage hand to open the volume he was reading on the latest popular recipes for Waterdhavian weddings. He was insistent on making your meal for you on the day you wed, and would hear nothing against it. He was making something new everyday, bringing plates of his new dishes to you. "My love," he would say every time. "Try this one. How is it compared to the last? Should I keep looking? I'll keep looking, I haven't tried this other one yet.." and he would trail back off to the kitchen to start again. At first, you'd tried to dissuade him from trying every dish in the book, but your fiancé was nothing if not hard-headed, and you found yourself going along with it, content enough to try new food every night until the wedding. Each dish was better than the last, and that you certainly didn't mind.

You chuckled quietly and allowed your eyes to fall closed, listening to the rhythmic sound of Gale’s heart beating beneath your ear. The wind was chilly, but your hearts were warm, as long as they beat together.

fin

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale x gn reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale dekarios x gn reader #cozy up #cozy up gale #autumn aesthetic #cozy vibes #scheduled post

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blueberrypancakesworld · 6 months ago

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Snake dance for emperors

Emperor Geta/Caracalla x fem!reader

warning : dysfunctional family, tried comfort (as much as this is possible with these two), kissing, use of dagger, smutish, some touching, written before the movie comes out characters may be different at the end

summary : With the Colosseum, other types of entertainment come to the Empire of Rome. Not only acrobats and actors but also animal tamers and especially the agile snake dancer with cobras slithering along her body caught the attention of the two most powerful men in the world. So what happens when you're in a room with poisonous animals, pressure to perform and two emperors?

info : I just love them can't wait to see how they are in the movie. I'm not fully satisfied, it was supposed to be something else (more smut) but now it is what it is I hope you like it anyway:)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rome, the empire of history past versus present and future. A place of aspiration, arts and philosophers who passed on their knowledge to interested minds.

Violence and entertainment by gladiators in the Coloseum and the home of two young men who could have taken over the world with laurel wreaths on their heads.

The money practically clung to their bodies no matter where they went it was the finest fabrics and colors of dye that surrounded them both, the white face makeup and the dark, mineral-infused coat around their eyes darker protruding, light hair divine as the sun, making the two emperor brothers recognizable everywhere.

With the triumph and amusement in the Colosseum, the rich and influential men also met at parties organized by the elite. Politicians, philosophers, merchants and scalpers as well as military generals could all be found there... but besides the elite there was also the untrhlatung in the form of fire-breathers, exotic animals and songs.

Showmen with magnificent costumes or the snake woman surrounded by flowers while on her light clad body the dark snakes curled along, beautiful but dangerous animals taken from the straw woven baskets on her hand along her arms skillful fingers and soft sounds of her voice with inviting and engaging vibrations of her body.

The small beads and stones on her tiny outfit covered her most necessary parts as the silk clung to her body and the animals moved across it. ,,I wonder what will happen if they all bite her," the elder mumbled to his brother, who shook his head in amusement at the comment, a hum of laughter leaving his lips, and took another sip of wine.

Geta hardly liked the party at first, but the younger knew that it was much more important to be well received not only by the senate but also by the other pillars of the empire.

They might be at the top, but without merchants, influential philosophers or even the slave traders, Rome would lack important things. ,,It would be amusing for a moment...but hardly any different than in the Colosseum," he replied briefly, not giving his advisor a glance but seeing that Caracalla's smile did not fade.

Despite the fact that he was older by a year, he seemed to have little interest in all of this, only the prospect of perhaps a little mischief or amusement had brought him out next to his brother.

So they found themselves sitting here for a few minutes, a little apart from the large tables and round corners in the rooms with the exotic pretty things from displays of dead things and old weapons to her.

A young woman arrived in Rome with one of the many circus wagons that presented themselves in different cities and entertained the people with talent for special normal amusement and no murder and killing.

She had known that the normal shows were as beautiful as they were and she always smiled when children were fascinated watching the animals and she could teach them something, so she knew how serious it was when it came to such parties, ,,The Imperial Brothers, the elite will be there...one mistake and we are next" were the words of her boss who knew that they could use any coins and let her go.

So here she was, dancing around at first, talking about the artifacts, but as soon as the torches announced the night and cast old shadows, she resumed her role as a sanke dancer and took her place.

At first, some stopped to look at her body and clothes until they were fascinated by the snake, paying attention to the connection between her and the animals, sometimes throwing flowers and coins to her for the extra money it was worth to buy new fabric.

Some even talked to her about her interest in the animals, though most of the questions were about ulterior motives for other services she no longer offered, and perhaps she kept the snakes a little too far away from her to keep the men at a distance.

She would only be here for a few more hours until she was picked up, until she saw the gold, until she saw the two wreaths, until she saw the golden hair, until she heard the curtains being drawn and she was alone with the two emperors.

She heard them talking, and in between the full words she saw their gazes, pairs of eyes looking at her as if she were long dead or undressed, or perhaps both. ,,As sorry as I am, my time here is almost at an end my Emperors" she dared to raise her voice interrupting the quiet conversation and words to the animals and relaxed slightly hoping they had drank enough to just leave, she felt her own exhaustion her feet aching from standing so much.

The moon was high in the sky, providing light in the great city alongside the fires of torches and lanterns of oil but her hopes were dashed when she saw the playfully indignant look on Caracalla's face as he tilted his head, ,,But we are still here and not satisfied," he protested, his fingers closing tightly around the goblet in which the wine floated.

Even Geta, who didn't like the party, apparently wanted relief and a reward for having to do this to, only made an almost inviting gesture, ,,I want to see her," he said and she didn't know if he meant her first or her snakes.

Stifling a sigh, she got off her little stage and approached them slowly and carefully. She had always had her snakes under control but now one mistake and they would all hang.

Geta's eyes looked into hers for a moment, not dismissively but rather challengingly, he let his gaze wander over her body for a moment, lingering on her chest, which was recognizable despite the light fabric, before he held out his hand and she offered him a middle part of the snake to stroke.

The three of them knew very well that she could not do anything except follow orders. Geta could take her here and now he could just as well have left her to his brother who could probably still put on an amusing show. But this narrow game between emperors, a powerless victim and deadly nature was much more amusing.

Almost imperceptibly, his lips curled into a smile, ,,Pretty animals, dangerous and deadly like their owner, aren't they brother?" he asked, turning his gaze to Caracalla, who was watching the whole thing with a broad smile, but his fingers were playing with his dagger, the blade moving slowly towards her.

He seemed to be only heartbeats away from carving her skin with the tip, his desire to see the blood as in the arena never seemed satisfied, ,,If the emperors allow it, will you hold her?" she asked quickly when Caracalla could finally cut her and she knelt down in front of the two of them, seeing the brief imperceptible twitching of the fingers that would not only have liked to lie on the snakes, if the knife had gone a little further up her skin, the fabric of her scanty top would have been torn apart.

Fingers that had already caressed his middle, his gasping giggles and the slight moans that came from her dancing movements, the fantasy of the gods and her being.

Sometimes more, sometimes less obvious, but he saw that she saw it. It amused him. Both brothers seemed to be turned on by the power of being able to take whatever they wanted…but they were merciful for the moment.

Before even Geta smiled at the gesture, crediting her for her courage in the face of two men who could mean her end at any time, she gave the first snake to Geta and took his hands in hers, ,,Calmly and slowly it will not bite you as long as you respect its power, my Emperor," she said, feeling his gaze on her as she slid one of the animals onto his arm and he looked at it for a moment.

,,You'll always kneel before us at your next performance," he murmured casually as if it were a thought that had just come to him, kneeling and crawling naked like a whore instead of leaving her the last dignity was the appropriate thing to do in his eyes.

,,And amuse us," Caracalla added and she found the cool point of the dagger sharp under her chin again, the older one forcing her to give him attention like a child who didn't get sweet honey from his mother, disgustingly foolish but dangerous, but Geta made no move to help her. Why, in the end, she was just a dancer, a woman a nobody compared to two emperors.

Slowly guiding the snake that had wrapped itself around her chest onto her hand, she carefully took his free hand in hers, ,,They would smell blood and devotion it would be unwise" she said not warning but rather reminding them that the black cobras were not toys, they were nature, animals that could not and would never be tamed.

The moment like a tension on the battlefield the cobra seemed to wrap itself quickly around Caracalla's neck not tight but the more it tightened despite not being a constrictor it could be dangerous.

The protection of the bond to her only went so far as the snake would obey orders on its own and Caracalla was in danger of becoming another victim. ,,Attention is wrapped around pretty things," she heard Geta say, his own fingers stroking her cheek, leaving her still paused, the cool blade of the dagger still against her neck, the younger emperor moving closer to her.

Once again a difference in power, he could have accepted the death of his brother for her, for her body, for his lust that her lips would probably wrap around his middle.

While it would probably still excite him as his suffocating brother took her cunt, this was just another thought in a moment that had an uncertain end.

Her snake seemingly not bothering him as he caressed her cheek, she smelled the makeup, the wine and the metallic gold and yet she returned the heartfelt kiss as he grabbed her harshly by the neck and pulled her close, she still vaguely heard Caracalla's gasp, which must have reached its amused ecstasy as death robbed her of its air.

She felt the dagger slip only slightly from her neck but that was all she needed to pull away from Geta with a jerk, hearing his annoyed snarl, she let her lips trail over the dagger, seeing the fascination of the two men at what she had done before she put her fingers to the blade.

,,Relax," she murmured before engaging the blond elder in a kiss, hearing the smirk that was stifled, the shake of his head and the laying down of the dagger as the clasp came off his neck after a few moments and she took the cobra back.

The moment between them was the fact of possible death, the lie obviously driven by the challenge, her uncertain determination and the deadly metal.

Taking the snakes back, she felt the burning gaze on her back just as the two emperors seemed to be waiting for a moment, the slight dull closing of the crobe the last bit of composure the two men could muster before they rose from their chairs and she felt their hands on her.

Another night in Rome for the emperors whose night was hardly different from any other, a night she had hoped she would never have to do again....but under the touch of human gods and her fast beating heart, it seemed she would never be able to tame the human snakes and their stifled sounds of pleasure and pain would be heard long into the night through their poison.

She was the first to hear Caracalla's giggle, but when she felt the cool fingers of Getas on her arm, the metal of the rings moving harshly over her skin, he turned her into his arms to engage her in another kiss while his other hand finally came to rest on her breast. He simply tore the fabric off for something else better.

His older brother, however, claimed her other half, his lips, once painted with make-up, had long lost their red and she now felt him press against her, almost obsessively taking her breath before she gasped out, her painful moan drowned in the kiss as Caracallae cut her with the dagger to get the blood.

Caracalla's fangs dug into her skin, his bites hard and sharp as he feasted on every drop of blood, a grotesque contrast to his white make-up. With every thrust, with every lustful sound, with every attempt to resist, Geta seemed to take on her strength, wrapping himself around her, depriving her of all sight, his serpentine body never letting go of her that night. Both had found the perfect prey and would leave nothing of her, for once ensnared, snakes never let go of their prey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #gladiator #joseph quinn #fred hechinger #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla x reader #geta x reader #caracalla x reader #reader is female

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eternalbuckley · 16 days ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WISTERIA VINES. (an aemond targaryen series)

— chapter one: Your Romeo. Your Juliet.

SUMMARY: You and Aemond find out that you got the roles of Romeo and Juliet but didn't know yet about the other one. You only found out that Aemond will be Romeo through a phone call with Helaena. And Aemond got the news about you from his older brother. How do you both react to these news?

word count: 4,415

genre: just some tiny angst i think? | no specified reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, Y/N and they/them pronouns are used a few times, english is not my first language, slightly proofread and edited — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i'm more than excited to finally share the first chapter of this series. i've been working on this whole project for a while now and i really hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy creating it! this will be my last fanfic this year, so i hope you'll have a great start into the new year or had a great start (whenever you're reading this) <3 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed! ♡

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. i don’t give you my permission to use my writing for any ai related things, don’t do it. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

dividers by saradika-graphics

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You nibbled nervously on your nails while you sat on your couch in front of your opened laptop, rocking with your leg as you waited for an e-mail from the production team that produces the ballet show of Romeo and Juliet of the upcoming ballet season. Ever since you’ve first seen a performance of this production, you wanted to be a part of the ballet as well, especially in the role of Juliet. You’ve always dreamed of it and worked hard for your dream.

You’ve already worked with the choreographer before and would love to be able to work with her again. You’ve worked with her on two different productions before; the Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty. You loved working with her and were fascinated by how she was able to put her visions into reality.

You first got into ballet shortly after you turned five and started having ballet classes. It didn’t fill you with joy in your early stage of being a ballet dancer, you sort of disliked it, but you grew to love the art of this dance over the years. One of the main reasons for falling in love with ballet was a performance you saw with your family in a theatre when you were almost seven years old. You were fascinated by the dancers, the costumes and the whole representation of the stage. It was magical for you and since then, you were determined to get better each day, hoping you’d be as good as the dancers you saw on stage. Eventually, you were allowed to use pointe shoes for the first time when you were thirteen years old – causing you to be the happiest person.

Officially, you have been a professional ballet dancer for a few years now. When you were seventeen, you had the opportunity to be able to dance in a bigger role in a Nutcracker production, which changed you into a better person and was a big step for your ballet career. It was one of your favourite times you’ve ever had, thanks to different people who were involved in the whole process.

“Come on…” You whispered to yourself and refreshed your e-mail inbox for the hundredth time today, hoping there would be an e-mail for the production. You wished there would be a positive message – a message which would tell you that you were a part of the production in the next ballet season. You’d be happy enough to be a part of the production in general, but your main aim was to get cast as Juliet. But after all, you would be happy either way.

You stood up with a sigh and walked into your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. While you poured the water into your glass, you got a notification on your phone – an e-mail.

‘Casting Results for Romeo and Juliet’

You widened your eyes and immediately sat down your glass on the counter to sprint to your laptop and refresh your inbox to read the e-mail. Your pulse increased and your palms started sweating as your nerves almost exploded. You deeply breathed in, opened the e-mail and read the first lines.

“Hello Y/N,

we are more than happy to tell you that you have been selected as our Juliet for the Romeo and Juliet ballet of the following season. Congratulations!

The complete casting list will be released in the following days. The date for the first rehearsal will be sent to you with the official casting announcement – please make sure you’re prepared for everything!

Until then, relax as much as you can. We’re sure everything will be more than perfect this season! We’re very excited for it.

See you at the first rehearsal,

your production team :)”

You reread the lines multiple times, you couldn’t entirely believe it yet that your dream has just come true. “OH MY GOD!” You happily screamed out loud, jumping on the spot multiple times – you were more than happy. A few tears slipped out of your eyes while you unlocked your phone to call your best friend – Helaena Targaryen. Your hands shook a bit from feeling overwhelmed by the news.

You met her through ballet classes you took together when you were nine and ten years old, and you became best friends very quickly, grew up together and were inseparable. You were thankful to have her at your side. You were there for each other whenever you needed each other and built each other up whenever the other one wasn’t doing well. Especially when Helaena had a knee injury when she was eighteen and sadly had to give up on ballet. She wasn’t doing well mentally and lost her love for it. For a while, she tried to avoid it at every cost after her injury. Even you. You never blamed her for acting the way she did, you understood her. You would probably act the same way if you had to stop the thing you loved because of an injury.

It wasn’t an easy time for Helaena, but over time, she found other interests, and slowly got happier again when she discovered her interest in fashion and designing. It filled her with joy to create her own clothes and bring her ideas to life – it was Helaena’s passion. Being able to design clothes in the way she wanted brought her self-confidence back and gave her a voice. While you thrived in the world of ballet, she thrived in the world of fashion. You support each other in every step and success you’re able to make. Over the years, she had designed your costumes for different performances you were a part of. Seeing you in her creations whenever you danced on stage made her proud. Both of you moved in together shortly after your nineteenth birthday and had been living together for six years by now.

Your phone rang a few times until Helaena eventually appeared on your display. She wasn’t home because she was currently in Winterfell for a design job.

She smiled at you and leaned against the bed headboard in her hotel room. “Hi babe, what’s–“ Helaena began to speak but immediately sat up and gasped as soon as she saw your happy expression, “Did you get a part?!”

You nodded quickly while you walked over to the couch in your living room and sat down cross-legged. “YES! I will be a next Juliet,” you grinned proudly and excitedly while you put your phone against the plant pot that stood on the coffee table.

She clapped, “Oh my god, yes!! Congratulations, babe, you deserve it so so much,” she matched your excitement but then became a bit more serious for a moment, “Wait… Do you already know who your Romeo will be?”

You shook your head, “Not yet, the e-mail said that the complete casting list will be announced soon. I don’t know when, but I hope soon, and I hope it will be someone who’s…” You noticed her serious expression and how she nervously bit down on her lip, “Wait… What do you know?” You furrowed your eyebrows – you were confused.

“Nothing…” She cleared her throat to hide the nervous tone in her voice, but you knew she was lying because she wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Helaena,” you said warningly, “Tell me what you know?”

She sighed and nodded her head. “Aemond just called me before you did,” she began, and your face faltered for a moment – you knew what this meant, “He will be your Romeo.”

“Oh… Uhh,” you cleared your throat in surprise, “That’s fine. Really. I’m sure it will be fine, I mean… He’s a wonderful dancer, and I adore his passion, but…”

“You’re afraid it will be weird between you? Considering that you’re not together anymore?” She interrupted you without a second thought. Her face showed sympathy as she asked you a question you tried to ignore for yourself.

Your shoulders were slightly slumped, and you nervously bit down on your lower lip. “Yeah,” you nodded slowly and shrugged. “But we’re professionals, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work through it in the next months. I doubt there will be any problems; we ended on good terms. In some way. We agreed to stay friends, remember?” You inhaled and put a few hair strands behind your ears.

“Babe,” she tilted her head, “You two can’t really be in the same room with each other. Every time you stare at each other like two lovesick puppies that obviously still love each other. When was it the last time you actually saw each other?”

You were aware that you and Aemond were extremely professional and wouldn’t let personal feelings ruin any experiences for your careers. But even if you agreed to stay friends and that you wouldn’t let any personal feelings between you, you had to stop dancing with him entirely. The weird tension between you was too heavy after your breakup. You and Aemond used to be dance partners, even before you got into a relationship. You only hoped it would end well.

“I don’t know. It probably has been a few months by now.” With an apprehensive sigh, you leaned against the backrest of your couch and placed a cushion on your lap to play with the fabric. “And besides, the moments you mentioned probably happened shortly after we broke up. I’m sure he and I moved on and can be professional. You know how important our careers are for us.”

Helaena hummed teasingly and nodded her head, “Of course, of course…. I’ll pretend I believe it now.” She chuckled as you rolled your eyes and huffed. If she were here, you’d have thrown the cushion at her. “Whatever! This only means that I’ll finally be able to design another dress for you,” she smiled and clapped excitedly. You chuckled and smiled at her through the screen, her excitement made you happier.

You talked for a few more minutes with her before she had to end the call because she got called by one of her clients. You sighed after the call ended. This was not what you had planned. This was not what you thought would happen. You weren’t exactly sure how to feel about it that you’d be dancing together with Aemond, especially in such a story as Romeo and Juliet. If you were honest, it didn’t bother you that you’d have to dance with him, but you were nervous. More than nervous that something might not work out in the way it should be.

You weren’t lying when you told Helaena that you and Aemond decided to stay friends, but she wasn’t lying either. You barely saw each other or were able to stay in the same room for long without staring at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. There were still feelings between you. Feelings that both of you tried to ignore and deny, even if it was obvious that they were still there. Especially to Helaena – she knew what you and Aemond still felt for each other. She deeply hoped that you would get closer again someday and maybe be honest with yourselves and each other.

You met Aemond and the rest of Helaena’s family when you were having a sleepover at her place for the first time when you were ten – it was like a little celebration of your friendship. During the first years of your friendship with Helaena, you barely talked with Aemond or any of her brothers, you barely knew them, only the things Helaena had told you about back then. The interests were too different, even if Aemond was into ballet and a ballet dancer as well. You couldn’t really find a way to connect with him.

Surprisingly, you had talked with Aegon more than with Aemond, despite the slight age gap. Aegon was like an older brother to you and treated you like a second sister – even if he technically had two already. He was happy to see that Helaena had someone who shared her interests and didn’t judge her for the way she was. You had met the other half of their family only a handful of times so far. Even if everyone tried to be polite with each other as much as they could, you were able to notice the tension between everyone – some had more and some had less tension, but it was there.

But over the years and the older you were, you grew closer to Aemond and became friends. You found interest in each other and realised that both of you had sides inside you that neither of you were aware of. You had been spending more time with him after Helaena had her injury and wasn’t able to dance anymore. Whenever you weren’t with her, you spent your time in the studio with her younger brother. You started to like him more after you got to know each other better. You trusted him, he trusted you. Both of you motivated each other for your dancing and after some time, you tried to dance together, and it was like you were made for each other. Dancing with him always seemed more than easy and the chemistry between you made it even more magical. You supplemented each other, which resulted in both of you being able to dance in a Nutcracker production together when you two were seventeen. It was the start of the best time of your lives.

Both of you were able to turn your hobby into your career and danced together in many productions, even the teams behind every production were mesmerised by the chemistry between you. Many times, you were asked by other dancers if you two were in a relationship – which you had to deny every time. Although, you had a crush on each other, but you never told each other, even if everyone around you seemed to notice the underlying feelings between you.

Especially Helaena noticed it, then and even now, and she loved teasing you about it. Even Daeron and Aegon seemed to notice something after some time. They cracked jokes about it many times before, about how well you’d fit together. Both of them didn’t even notice the glares Aemond gave them or how his and your cheeks heated up. Nevertheless, it took some more time until Aemond got the courage to officially ask you out on a date when you were rehearsing for a production. You didn’t realise in the first place that he was asking you out but once you did, you agreed happily.

You were the one who was able to bring out a happier and more cheerful side of Aemond, one he mostly only shared and barely let out due to different things that had happened in his life. Especially since he was ten years old and got into an incident with his younger nephew and lost his left eye to it. Since then, he has been wearing a prosthetic eye, which brought him his own difficulties from time to time. There had been days when the pain would be unbearable for him, and nothing could help him to ease the pain. Before he had been with you, he wanted to get through this alone and show everyone that he was strong enough, but he slowly let you comfort him and be there for him, the more he trusted you. But even then, there had been days when he pushed you away and wanted to be alone.

In your presence, he was mostly able to forget about his burdens and worries and could feel peaceful because of you. Especially whenever you danced together, he was much calmer and able to forget about his problems during these moments. He may have gotten rude comments about him being a ballet dancer from different people throughout the years, but he paid them no attention. Ballet saved his life in a way only you could understand.

Luckily, your relationship didn’t end because anything negative happened between you. It was rather a decision the two of you had made together almost a year ago, so both of you could focus more on your careers as ballet dancers without any distractions. You had been quite busy with your schedules and barely saw each other that much anymore, given that you and Aemond had to work on different performances and were busy with your training, classes or rehearsals all day. At the time, it was the better decision to part ways and stay friends.

Even if that worked in some way, neither of you wasn’t truly able to move on. Even if you had agreed to stay friends and act normally, it wasn’t easy to see each other afterwards. You kind of grew apart even more and only saw each other rarely. Before and during your relationship, Aemond used to visit you and Helaena a lot, but after your breakup, he rarely stepped into your and Helaena’s apartment. Only if he knew that you weren’t there.

It hurt Helaena to see her younger brother and her best friend growing apart like that, she felt kind of helpless. She didn’t want to get between you, but she understood your decision and tried to be there for each of you as much as she could. Even if it could be difficult for her sometimes – she tried her best, and so did you and Aemond.

After a while of thinking about old memories, you cleared your throat and got up from the couch to distract yourself. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your day thinking about your ex-boyfriend and what you experienced together. You wanted to focus more on being happy that you were finally going to have the opportunity of your life – you were a next Juliet in the ballet world.

You walked into your kitchen and took a sip from the glass you poured yourself before you received the email with the news of the casting. Your phone lit up with a message from Aegon – he congratulated you on getting the part in the production. You smiled and shook your head, Helaena must have texted or called him after her call with her client. You quickly opened the message and replied to him before you started to cook yourself dinner.

Meanwhile, Aemond cut some vegetables for his dinner and was on the phone with Aegon. He just told him that he got the part of Romeo and was more than excited to start the rehearsals – but Aemond didn’t know yet that you were going to be his Juliet. He hoped that the other dancers he’d work with would be as professional as he was.

“How was the first concert, by the way?” Aemond asked his older brother and got a pan out of his kitchen counter – fully unaware that Aegon was texting you.

Aemond furrowed his eyebrows when Aegon remained silent, “Brother?” He placed the pan on the stove and continued to cut the vegetables.

“Hmm? Yeah?” Aegon cleared his throat on the other side of the phone, “Sorry, what did you say?” He changed the position of his body while lying on the couch of his hotel room, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Your first concert… How was it?” Aemond repeated his question with a short sigh and added the vegetables to his pan and turned on the stove. But he didn’t get a reply again, which caused him to snap slightly, “Aegon, are you even listening, or what are you so busy with?” Aemond hated it when his brother wasn’t listening or was only half-listening.

“I’m just–“ Aegon paused and thought about his next words for a moment before he continued, “I’m wondering… How does it feel for you to know that you’ll dance with Y/N again?” He furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

Aemond stopped his movements, and the grip on his knife tightened with Aegon’s question. “I have no idea what you mean?” He hoped that he just misunderstood Aegon, that it was just some mistake, but how could it be a mistake? Aegon used your name, he must mean you, it could only be you. The words echoed in his mind as he gulped with the consideration that Aegon was telling the truth – that he’d have to dance with you again after everything that happened.

Aegon chuckled nervously. ‘Didn’t he already know that he’d have to dance with Y/N?’ He asked himself and cleared his throat. “I uhh…,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he couldn’t save himself anymore, “Helaena called me before you did and told me that Y/N got the part of Juliet. And you’ll be Romeo. So… They’re your Juliet. I thought… You already knew.”

Aemond stared at his cutting board, did he hear his brother correctly? You were going to be Juliet? No, he must have misheard something, right? This newfound information caused him to stay quiet for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information. On one side, he was happy that he got the part of Romeo, but it meant to dance with you. He felt conflicted about it, he knew that dancing with you always felt magical and easy, but he wasn’t sure how it would be after everything that had happened. Even if it has been a year since the end of your relationship, he didn’t know what to expect. He should’ve expected that this could happen, but he didn’t.

“I certainly didn’t know that at all. I only got the news of my part…. They’ll announce the complete list of dancers soon, but I didn’t know about Y/N.”

“Sorry, I–“

Aemond cut him off and shook his head, even if Aegon wouldn’t see it. “Do you know if they know that we will... You know,” he cleared his throat, he felt somewhat tense, “Dance together?”

“I don’t know, perhaps?” Aegon replied, quite unsure of his answer, “If you already have told our sister about it, then I’m quite sure that Y/N knows too by now.”

Aemond hummed and pursed his lips. Should he text you and congratulate you on getting the part for Juliet, or should he wait until you see each other for rehearsal? But what if you didn’t know yet that he would be your Romeo and that you’d find out because of him? It could be strange. After all, he knew what the whole Romeo and Juliet ballet meant to you, so it wouldn’t be weird to congratulate you for getting the role you always wanted, right? But he wasn’t sure if he should reach out to you after all.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll prepare my dinner now. I’m sure that you… Must prepare for your show tonight. Bye,” he quickly ended the call and let out a desperate sigh. This wasn’t how he thought he’d spend his next months.

You haven’t seen each other in months, how would things be between you two? He was excited about the production if he was thinking about his career, but he was nervous about his personal feelings.

Later that evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch of your living room, one of your favourite blankets wrapped around your body while a movie was playing on the TV in the background. You shivered a bit, even if the room was warmed up by the fireplace. But you weren’t sure if you shivered because you were cold or because you were feeling nervous. You stared at the screen of your phone, eyeing the chat with Aemond – you were considering if you should text him or not. After all, you were about to spend your next months together, almost every day until the last performance at least. It wouldn’t hurt to text him quickly, right? But did he even know about you being his Juliet?

Your thumb hovered over the chat with him, your nerves causing your hands to sweat a bit, and your pulse beat strongly in your ears. It was just a simple text; it shouldn’t be anything you should worry about. But your pulse was still beating strongly, your mind flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Little did you know that Aemond was in the same situation as you while he was lying in his bed. His blanket covered half of his body while only the small lamp on his nightstand brought some light into his bedroom. One arm was placed under his head while he held his phone in his other hand. His thumb hovered over your chat as well. He desperately wanted to text you and let you know how happy he was for you that you were going to be Juliet. He was happy for you, but the thought of dancing with you caused his nerves to hit him deep inside. Aemond rarely felt nervous, but if it involved you? Completely different. You made him feel things no one else could, even after your breakup and not having seen each other in a while. The thought of you increased his pulse immediately.

After some more thinking, both of you tossed your phones away, letting out a long and exasperated sigh. Both of you covered your faces with your hands while your shoulders relaxed. This wouldn’t be easy. If you couldn’t even text each other a simple ‘Congrats’, how should things go when you would dance together? How were you supposed to spend your days together in such intimate moments? You’d have to be close – very close with each other and trust the other one. You were sure you could trust each other, but you were afraid of what else might happen.

And that’s when it hit both of you all of a sudden – he immediately sat up, his shoulders tensed while yours did as well as you both realised what it meant to be dancing as Romeo and Juliet.

You’d probably have to kiss each other.

On stage.

In front of so many people who would watch the performances.

It would most probably be a part of the choreography, and neither of you could change it, even if you could – neither of you wanted it to be changed, either. It is such a delicate moment between the characters and displays the feelings between them – it would be foolish to erase that moment. The next months surely would be interesting.

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