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thealternateuniverse · 7 months ago

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How did you handle it?

1st part here

A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭

Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.

Warning/s: Read at your own risk

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Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.

She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.

Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.

"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.

"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.

"Shut up!" She took her phone.

KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.

"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.

"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.

"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.

These two are as mischievous as ever.

Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.

"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.

"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"

She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.

"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.

Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.

"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.

"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."

Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.

"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.

------------

Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.

"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.

"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.

"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.

"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.

Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce

In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.

While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.

Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.

The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.

Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"

KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."

Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."

The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.

KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."

KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.

The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.

"That's what we're talking about."

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Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.

Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.

Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.

In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.

"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.

"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.

"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.

Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.

"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.

"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.

Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.

Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.

-------

"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."

As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.

Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.

Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.

"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.

Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.

"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.

"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"

"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.

"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."

Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.

"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.

Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.

"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.

They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.

Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.

They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.

"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.

Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.

"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.

"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.

"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.

"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.

"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.

"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.

Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kk arnold #nika muhl #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige bueckers x reader

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brucewaynehater101 · 7 months ago

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Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #dc au #damian wayne #kon el #dc prudence #thank you for the ask!!!!#y'all remember to be careful when adding romantic relationships to time travel #timkon is cute but the age difference (even though Tim's body regresses) could get spooky here

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slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Seven-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: EEEEEEE ANGST!!!!! LOVE!!!! CONFESSIONS!!!! PROGRESS!!!!! Also, mentions of childhood trauma, childhood emotional abuse, parental abuse, mentions of death, extremely deep and emotional. Very painful. Also, some adorable Theo in the beginning.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Just as Mattheo was on the verge of popping open the door to the washroom, he halted, pivoting back to face you, locking eyes in an intense moment.

"I'll go out first," he declared, his gaze dancing from your eyes to your lips and back, a fleeting yet charged exchange. "If Nott is still there, I'll distract him. Meet me in the courtyard."

Before you could formulate a response, he swiftly flicked the lock open and swung the door wide, leaving the room with purpose. Internally cursing him in a cascade of languages, you realized the gaping flaw in his plan--it was you who had called out to Theo from inside the washroom, not him...so surely, Mattheo's departure from the bathroom before you would hardly appear inconspicuous to Theo, should he still be lingering outside the fucking door.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

Releasing a prolonged breath laden with anxiety, you pivoted back toward the mirror, meticulously assessing your appearance. Adjusting your mask, you coaxed your hair into place, smoothing down any unruly strands. Just as you were finally beginning to feel the tension ease off of your shoulders, the bathroom door groaned open once more--revealing a tall, brown-haired figure, elegantly clad in a sharp blue suit.

Your heart stuttered, and you spun around, breath catching in your throat. "Theo..."

Theo entered the bathroom, a cheeky smirk adorning his lips as he leisurely assessed you from head to toe, allowing the door to click shut behind him.

"Looks like I've finally figured you out," he declared, his voice a low, honeyed drawl. "Although it seems I'm a tad too late."

Closing the distance, you anxiously tried to apologize. "Theo, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be, Bella," he interrupted, wetting his lips, softly raising a hand to his heart. "Your secret is safe with me."

"My...why? In exchange for what?" Your words hung in the air, lost as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

A low chuckle escaped him, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Why would you think I want something?"

Tension gripped you. "I just-"

"I already told you," he interrupted, his hand ascending toward your face, delicately brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm a gentleman, little bird...you owe me nothing...all I ever wanted was confirmation."

Your brows furrowed, his touch sending subtle tingles over your cheek as his thumb grazed against it. A delicate shiver traced its way down your spine, and the room seemed to close in as his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that held the weight of unspoken revelations.

"Confirmation?" you questioned.

"Mm," he murmured, his eyes briefly scanning your features, and then he slowly withdrew his hand, leaving an almost lingering warmth on your skin. "Confirmation that Riddle's got it bad for you...as bad as I've ever seen it."

Your heartbeat quickened, a mix of confusion and denial clouding your thoughts. "No-"

"Yes," he retorted, a hint of amusement in his eyes at your quick dismissal. "We all could tell there was something going on with you two, little bird...we could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at you...come se tu fossi il sole e lui fosse un bambino che lo vede per la prima volta..."

(As if you were the sun, and he was a child seeing it for the first time...)

"And you...you looked at him just the same..." he added, his voice a low, encapsulated murmur, "since you've come around, it's been obvious, even to us heartless jerks, that he's different...it's clear that whatever this is, whatever you two have been hiding...È il tipo di cosa per cui aspetti per tutta la tua dannata vita..."

(it's the type of thing you wait your whole damn life for.)

Your words caught in your throat, a mixture of shock and disbelief washing over you. Stammering, you struggled to find a coherent response as warmth and bliss swirled in your chest, something deeply suppressed coming to life inside you at his revelation.

You looked up into his deep blue eyes, speechless for a moment before managing to utter, "thank you, Theo...thank you so much..."

"Of course, amore..." he said, his hands casually finding refuge in his pockets. "I understand precisely what he sees in you...I can only envision the fiery clashes of tongues you two must have..."

Smirking, you remarked, "You have no idea."

Theo chuckled, the mischievous glint growing in his eyes. As you made your way to the door, an impulsive idea took hold. Without hesitation, you spun back around, meeting his eyes as you reached for his face, drawing it down towards you, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. With a smirk, you pulled back, leaving him momentarily taken aback.

"Your secret is safe with me too, Theodore..." you murmured, a sly grin playing on your lips. "Wouldn't want anyone to know that the Italian playboy has a heart, now would we?"

"You're absolutely right, Piccolo diavolo..." he quipped with a smirk, his eyes glinting playfully. "Now get out of here before Riddle comes to claim my bloody head."

Suppressing a snorted giggle, you confidently swung the washroom door open and gracefully glided back into the dimly lit hall. Swiftly traversing the corridor, you aimed straight for the courtyard, a subtle cringe registering as the rhythmic patter of rain on cobblestones reached your ears. As you approached the courtyard's entrance, there stood Mattheo, casually leaning against the wall, patiently awaiting your arrival.

Or rather, impatiently. "What took you so long?"

"I, uh, got caught up..." you stammered, wincing inwardly as your throat tightened. It didn't seem like the right moment to mention Theo, who had obviously somehow snuck past him. "I'm sorry."

"What am I ever going to do with you," Mattheo sighed, hint of amusement his voice as he turned toward the forest. "Come on,"

Mattheo guided you through the courtyard, the rhythmic cadence of raindrops creating a melodic backdrop to the night. The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken tension, and the moon and stars, obscured by thick clouds, added an eerie allure to an already anxious situation. Your dress, now entirely drenched, clung to your form, and navigating the wet ground in heels became an adventurous feat on its bloody own.

Frustration mounted as you navigated the slippery pathway in your soaked dress and precarious heels. An unfortunate misstep led to a stumble, and you found yourself cursing both the uneven ground and your choice of footwear.

Mattheo's irritation mirrored your own, evident in the sharp tone of his voice. "Watch where you're going, Raven..." he said, barely sparing you a glance as he continued moving. "Do I need to bloody carry you?"

You rolled your eyes, mumbling a response under your breath as you struggled to keep up with him, aggravated further by the relentless rain and Mattheo's brisk pace. The forest swallowed you both as you entered into it, its dark shadows and dense foliage intensifying the unease in the air.

"Can you please slow down?" You hissed, your voice rising over the sound of the clashing raindrops, hastily stepping over splayed branches and sharp rocks. "Is this all really fucking necessary?"

Mattheo stalled, the black fabric of his suit clinging to his strong frame, outlining the tensed contours of his body. As he paused and turned to look at you, his eyes reflected the profound darkness of the forest, deep pools of intensity that seemed to absorb the ambient light. The raindrops glistened on his chiseled features, and his once meticulously styled curls now lay flattened against his forehead, drenched by the relentless rain.

His intense gaze pierced through the darkness, capturing your soul as you staggered closer to him. The thick canopy of the trees cast shadows, with only the moon's pale glow filtering through the dense forest greenery.

"I'm giving you what you wanted," he declared, the weight of his words echoing in the eerie stillness. The moonlight outlined the contours of his soaked, dark suit, emphasizing the true irrationality of the moment, and you snuffed a scoff. "We're almost there-"

"This isn't what I wanted, Mattheo...I just wanted you to talk to me!" you snapped, frustration boiling over and echoing in the quiet forest. Your words hung in the damp air, mingling with the sound of raindrops and the distant rustle of leaves. "I'm sick of all the fucking theatrics...Gods, I'm soaked, I'm freezing, my dress is ruined, and we could get attacked by an endless array of creatures at any bloody moment....yet, you don't fucking care...you won't even slow down for me..."

Mattheo blinked, his emotions entirely indecipherable, his stern expression momentarily softening as he studied your figure. Seemingly dismissing your words, his eyes then shifted to the darkness behind him.

"I have a time frame...we need to move," he urged, but a scowl marred your face.

"Mattheo..." you pleaded, desperation laced in your voice, grabbing his arm and making him spin back around to fave you. "For Godric's sake! Please!"

Mattheo's eyes bore into you, the irritation etched on his features creating a tension that echoed through the darkened forest.

"What, Raven? What the hell do you honestly want from me?" His voice was a hiss, teeth bared, face contorted in a snarl. "You want me to tell you all my dirty little secrets, is that it? You want to know the dark corners of my past? What if I lay it all bare, and you decide I'm not the man you thought I was, huh? What then?"

You swallowed, dispelling the lump of anxiety lodged in your throat. Glimpsing the hardened features of the man before you, you mustered the courage to reach up and pull his mask off, before doing the same to yours, tossing them onto the forest floor.

"You're worried I'm going to leave," your thumb grazed his cheek as you questioned, "...is that what you're worried about, Mattheo?"

His gaze underwent a subtle transformation, softening amid a tempest of conflicting emotions. An audible swallow punctuated the charged atmosphere, the rain forming a delicate veil between you, its mist blending with the subdued downpour beneath the thick canopy of trees. Without a word, he nodded, his silent admission making your blood buzz with electricity.

"I'm not going anywhere," your whisper hung in the damp air, the fragility of your voice carrying a delicate plea. "I prom-"

He scowled, stalling your words as he shoved your hand away and attempted to step back, but you were quicker, seizing his arm and halting his retreat.

"Listen to me, Riddle...Gods, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I couldn't, even if I wanted to..." the intensity of your gaze bore into him, the misty rain creating an ethereal backdrop to the raw exchange between you.

"Yes, you could," he muttered, his voice torn. "And you will want to."

"I know your heart is at war with your head, Mattheo...but I'm here...I'm right fucking here...there's no leaving, there's no forgetting you..." you released a shaky breath, observing the subtle shift in his gaze toward your lips, his breathing gradually slowing, and you pulled him closer. "It’d be easier if you asked me to tear my heart out of my chest with my own fucking hands, then it would be to even make an attempt at forgetting you…"

"You're insane," he muttered, smirk teasing the corners of his lips, a mixture of disbelief and vulnerability in his eyes. "No wonder I can't get enough of you..."

You huffed, involuntarily blushing in response. Theo's words echoed in your mind, a persistent refrain like a neon sign blinking in the darkness. Type of thing you wait your whole fucking life for, he'd said.

As his sentiment lingered, the words dancing around you like a ghost, you felt a warmth enveloping your body despite the shivers running down your spine. The chill in the air became irrelevant, overpowered by the undeniable heat radiating from within. Gazing into those enchanting brown eyes, the ones you've let yourself drown in over and over and over again for months now, you grappled with the realization that what you felt for this boy transcended the superficial.

You didn't want him, you needed him. You didn't like him, you fucking loved him. And that meant for better, or for worse.

And as you stood there, struggling to contain the overwhelming emotion, you could hardly resist the urge to confess. Until, he raised his hand, gently pulling you closer, holding you tight against his chest. It felt like a silent prayer, an unspoken gesture for which no words could suffice.

"My childhood was similar to yours, Raven," he admitted, his words laced with a mix of reluctance and vulnerability. "Rich asshole parents, never around...dad was too busy fucking his assistant, and mom was too preoccupied spending his money to care...they pawned me and my brother off to my grandparents for most of our childhood."

Mattheo's grip tightened around you, his embrace offering both solace and a sense of protection as he paused for a moment, letting his words linger in the night air. You tensed, mentally bracing yourself.

"Which would have been fine, but my grandparents had their own issues," he continued, his voice carrying the weight of years gone by. "They split up when we were five...my brother went with my grandma while I stayed with grandpa...everyone blamed him, everyone fucking hated him, cut him out. My dad treated him like a piece of filth, as though he'd singlehandedly murdered his best friend or some shit...I was the only one he had left..."

As his words unfolded, you could feel the resonance of his pain, the narrative of abandonment and familial strife painting a somber picture in the midst of the rain-soaked forest--and at that, you could relate.

"I was all he had, and I was a fucking asshole...I treated him like shit because I felt like shit," he almost growled, his voice carrying the burden of remorse, tone becoming more strained with each syllable. "My brother was given everything--adored, loved, and cherished while I wasn't even looked at, fucking thought about. Wasn't my grandpas fault, but I took it out on him...I told him I fucking hated him, that he ruined my life. I just did whatever I wanted and he let me, because what else was he going to do?...this went on for years, until we got into a huge fight one night, and he called my dad...I left the house before he got there...just stormed out without another word..."

Mattheo's grip tightened further, his chin digging into the top of your head as he continued, the pain in his voice echoing louder than ever. "The next call I got was from my dad...telling me grandpa's at the hospital," he admitted, a heavy weight in his words, your heart beating in your throat, his echoing in your ears. "He went to chase after me and some fucking goons jumped him, in the middle of the street, while I was too busy being a fucking selfish, pathetic little bitch..."

The rawness of his story unfolded in the damp air, adding layers of complexity to the connection between you, the rain serving as a silent witness to the cathartic release of his past. Your chest rung with pain, lids fluttering shut as your lungs reached for air, gripped by the depth of the agony in his tone. Mattheo's voice trembled as he continued, the raw pain seeping into the damp air.

"It was my fault...all of it, my fucking fault...and my dad made sure to hammer that into me...every single fucking day since," he spat the words through gritted teeth, hastily letting go of you, shifting his hands to your shoulders as he met your eyes. "I reached the hospital just before he took his last breath...and you know what he fucking said to me?"

You gasped, taken aback by the overwhelming surge of emotions within him. "N-no,"

"He told me to forgive him, " he seethed, his teeth barred, tears threatening to spill from his intense gaze. "He told me to fucking forgive my dad, that insufferable prick who never spared him a fucking minute, never spared me a minute...that heartless bastard...how the fuck could he tell me to forgive someone like that? How the fuck could those be his last fucking words?"

Your breath hitched, a sharp intake of air as his words etched themselves into the recesses of your mind. The pain and raw emotion swirled around you effortlessly, an inescapable tide. “Rebelling was my coping mechanism, yet it was fleeting. Nothing I did was enough, always slipping through my fingers like fucking sand…”

His grip on your arms tightened, fingers digging in with a brutal force that threatened to splinter bones, jolting you within the clutches of his anguish.

"…I just-fuck--tell me where to put the fucking anger," he growled, the desperation in his voice palpable, echoing the tumultuous storm within him. "Fucking tell me, Raven...fuck...where the fuck-"

"Hey--breathe, just breathe," you whispered, meeting his gaze with understanding, bringing your hands up to his face, pulling him close. "It wasn't your fault...you were just a boy...a boy who needed his family...needed someone to tell him he was loved...they turned you into a fucking weapon and then told you to find peace..."

"And you were right..." he sniffed, his hands shaking as he held you; his eyes actively searching yours as if seeking solace. "...I let it all consume me...possess me," he murmured, voice heavy with regret. "I became the weapon they wanted, the one they made me out to be, because anger was better than wallowing...better than grief...better than guilt..."

Your hands trembled against his damp skin, the collective heat from your bodies hot enough to ignite the whole forest into pure fucking flame. You glimpsed his lips, and he wet them, little rivers of rain running down his skin, your hearts pounding in rhythm.

"At least rage would lift me up...make me stand..." he whispered, blinking the liquid away from his eyes, and whether it was rain or tears, you weren’t entirely sure. "Make me walk..."

"I understand..." you chewed your cheek, breath shallow as you nodded. "I completely understand."

"I've done shitty things...more than I could even begin to tell you about...all because I couldn't deal with my own bullshit, but, now...it just feels different...I feel different..." he confessed in a hushed tone, the weight of his words palpable. "Where I once craved vengeance, I now crave rest."

"Yeah?" You blinked, searching his face, thumbs softly brushing over his cheeks. "Why is that?"

"Because of you," he said, glimpsing your lips, his eyes clouded with emotion. "You gave me peace in a lifetime of war."

Your breath froze, time suspended as if under a spell, the world around you caught in a momentary stillness. Your grip on his face tightened, as though afraid he might slip away, the rain dancing around both of you in a silent cascade. And as the two of you stood there, his face, held in your hands, revealed a complexity of emotion that entirely mirrored your own--a beautiful mess, a captivating ruin.

As raindrops continued to create a soft percussion around you, you found yourself lost in the depths of his brown eyes, unsure if you were even inhaling anymore. But one thing you did know, was that this was the boy you loved, an intricate blend of imperfections, a chaotic disaster just like yourself.

In this instance, he embodied everything you've ever yearned for without even realizing it--a mix of nobility and ruthlessness, courage entwined with vulnerability, a paradoxical blend of strength and weakness. He is the type of man that you'd choose to stand beside in a war, never wishing to stand against. He's been unapologetically badass, yet somehow still possesses a heart that resonated with honesty. He was the embodiment of your dreams, realized in the midst of pure, complete chaos, and you wouldn't want to change a goddamn thing.

And just as you were parting your lips, just as you wanted to let the sacred words fall from your tongue, Mattheo's head snapped up--and then you heard it too, the breaking of branches shattered the moment, an ominous sound of something moving in the distance.

Without hesitation, Mattheo seized your wrist, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling you into motion with an intense purpose. "Come on."

Deeper into the forest you followed, the urgency palpable in each step. After a brief but purposeful journey, he slowed, guiding you behind a tree with a subtle urgency, the surroundings now cloaked in a heightened sense of alertness. As you pressed against the rough bark, the sounds of animals moving reached your ears, an eerie symphony veering closer.

In the veiled darkness, Mattheo's firm grip on your wrist subsided as he released you, his movements fluid despite the rivers of rain streaming down his face and body. Unfazed, he reached for his gun with practiced ease, the metallic click of it being cocked and the safety being flicked off resonating in the air.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you met his eyes, searching for answers. Mattheo, seemingly calm amidst the night's intrigue, noted your perplexity.

With a steady gaze, he said, "This is a thestrals' nest."

Your features contorted even further, not understanding what was happening--caught between the concealment of the tree, the mysterious sounds of the night, and the sudden revelation. Raindrops trickled down your face, mirroring the cascade of questions flooding your mind.

As Mattheo peeked out from behind the tree, you stammered, "A thestrals' nest? But...wh-what do you need that for?" Your heart thundered, fear gripping you. "...you're not hurting them, are you?"

"No," Mattheo's head whipped back at you, raising a hand to his face and pushing his sopping hair off his forehead. "I'm protecting them."

You paused. "You're-"

"Merlin's sake you ask a lot of questions, don't you?" He teased, an amused glint in his eyes despite the undercurrent of annoyance in his tone. "It's a long story, but basically I've spent a lot of fucking time in this forest...pretty much every night since first year I'd come out here...and one night, I just started studying them, their sounds, behaviours...just watching what they do."

A pause lingered, pregnant with anticipation. Mattheo cast another furtive glance beyond the sheltering tree, his gaze slicing through the darkness like a laser. When he pivoted to meet your eyes, the intensity of his gaze held a silent invitation into his life.

"But then my fascination extended beyond just watching them. I took out some textbooks, literally the only books I've ever taken out of the library, other than that book on stars, were about them...I just wanted to know everything," he said, cautiously examining your stunned face. "And by doing that I found out that they're vulnerable to certain predators, but especially Acromantulas...so as the years went on, and I noticed their population dwindling, I knew exactly the reason why, and I knew I had to do something about it."

"I tried spells, natural deterrents, enchanting the trees...didn't work. I even planted a bunch of magical herbs and plants around their nest, ones that emit scents that are repulsive to Acromantulas, but they're not strong enough, I guess." Another brief pause, another glance out behind the tree. "I had to get creative...I went to Snape...told him about my idea, and he was on board. He gave me permission to enchant the gun, and actually helped me devise a spell called Stellaverti specifically for this purpose. It's not meant to harm the spiders; it's designed to deter them effectively without causing any lasting damage."

He took a deep breath, his voice steady. "When I cast the spell on the bullets, they transform into magical projectiles. Upon impact, they create a blinding light and emit a loud, echoing noise. It's disorienting and frightening, encouraging them to retreat. The effects are temporary, wearing off after a few minutes, but the spell allows me to safeguard them while still keeping them and others free from harm."

Your jaw hung agape, every fiber of your being seemingly pulled skyward. Speech escaped you, a silent symphony of astonishment conducted within. Vibrations of disbelief and internal tremors accompanied each uttered revelation, leaving you in a state of wordless chaos. When words finally left your lips, you didn't even know what the hell you were saying.

"You created a fucking spell?" Your voice, louder than intended, verged on a near scream. The question, a burst of astonishment, reverberated through the forest. "Why not wield your wand directly?"

"Using my wand directly poses a risk, Raven. If I were to miss, the spell might deflect, hit something else, causing unintended consequences..." he said, his expressions completely serious. "With the modified handgun, I can maintain a safer distance while ensuring precision and accuracy. It's about minimizing risks and maximizing the effectiveness of the deterrent."

He paused for a moment before adding, "Plus, having a dedicated tool specifically enchanted for this purpose allows me to act fast...I only do this for a couple weeks during the Acromantula breeding cycle, when they're more aggressive...they usually stay fucked off for the rest of the year."

As Mattheo's explanation hung in the air, you stood there, utterly speechless, your mind trying to grasp the depth of what he just revealed. The man who others perceived as indifferent to everything had been quietly dedicating himself to safeguarding these enchanting, misunderstood creatures all this fucking time. A profound sense of beauty unfolded in the revelation, leaving you stunned by the contrast between perception and reality.

Despite the rain seeping into every crevice, a newfound warmth enveloped you. In this mystical realm, your shock transformed into a profound appreciation for Mattheo's silent commitment to protect the fragile balance of the forest. It was a revelation that transcended the weather, the night, and everything else, leaving you with an indescribable certainty that you always fucking knew--beneath the surface, there was more to this man than met the eye. Despite all he's been through, there was still good in him.

"Stay put, and be quiet…” Mattheo instructed in a hushed tone, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that demanded obedience. “Please.”

When you nodded, he moved, darting out from behind the tree, shifting toward a closer one with swift purpose. Peering out from your hidden vantage point, the thestrals' nest unveiled itself--a spectral scene of maternal serenity juxtaposed against the dark mystery of the forest. Yet, the tranquility was shattered by the impending arrival of Acromantulas, their looming forms casting a foreboding shadow over the ethereal tableau.

Your focus shifted to Mattheo, becoming a silent witness to a ballet of controlled power and graceful precision. Like a predator in fluid motion, he maneuvered through the trees, a master of stealth. His every step seemed to echo with purpose, aligning effortlessly with the approaching threat while remaining veiled behind the foliage.

In the orchestrated dance between protector and adversary, Mattheo's movements radiated a controlled power, a testament to years of dedication. As he raised the enchanted gun, a cascade of spells erupted with an otherworldly grace, each shot hitting its mark with eerie precision. With each resounding pop from Mattheo's weapon, the Acromantulas recoiled, swiftly retreating into the rainy silence. The echoes of their hurried departure lingered in the air, blending with the sound of branches snapping in the distance as the forest reclaimed its calm.

Mattheo, having deftly wielded the weapon, then lowered it with deliberate ease once he had scared the last of them off. He tucked it back into his pants before moving toward the thestrals, his movements now mirroring a far more soothing rhythm. Gently petting them, he reassured the creatures that the threat had passed, murmuring words of safety and comfort amidst the delicate patter of raindrops.

Stammering through the aftermath, you approached him, your mind in complete disarray, grappling with the revelation that shattered all of your preconceived notions. Everything you thought you knew about this man had been upended, leaving you standing on the precipice of understanding, yet feeling like you were teetering on the edge of an unknown abyss.

Words eluded you, lost in the echoes of enchanted gunfire and the fading retreat of Acromantulas. Your gaze lingered on Mattheo, who now stood amidst the thestrals, his demeanor shifting from vigilant protector to a gentle guardian, and it was in this moment of perplexity, a newfound attraction stirred within you, a magnetic pull fueled by the complexity that unveiled itself beneath Mattheo's exterior. The dichotomy of strength and tenderness, protector and nurturer, had never been more alluring, and you'd never been more fucking attracted to him in your life.

As you closed the distance, his gaze met yours, the intensity in his irises now softened to a warmth akin to melted chocolate. Rivulets of rain cascaded down his face, weaving through the contours of features that seemed to shed the need for concealment. It was as though, in this rain-soaked sanctuary, he’d finally found the freedom to reveal his true self.

In the weighty silence, he blinked, a subtle tension clinging to him. "I've said a lot tonight, and I understand if it's too much for you-"

But you cut through the air, your words breaking free in an unguarded moment, shaking your head as you stepped closer, kinking your neck back to fully catch his eyes.

"I am so fucking in love with you."

——————————-

Find chapter 28->

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singukieee · 5 months ago

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—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 4) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ editor's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Stay by OT7oramI

Y/N and her hybrid best friend, Jin, have known each other since Jin was eight years old and came to live with Y/N and her family. Throughout the years, Y/N and Jin have grown closer but there is one major secret between them. When an injured hybrid comes into Cherry Blossom Sanctuary where they both work, the secret is revealed. What will become of the friendship between Y/N and Jin when others are added to it?

Storms of Fate by SumiSG7

A darkly forbidden Auction in the veils of night catering to the morbid appetites of the wealthy in a world of legalized slave hybrids. Results in A melody of storm uniting the fates of a powerful Heiress with 7 mysteriously seductive & deadly hybrids The dark spiralling descent into the fever of passion & longing entwining their hungers while being targeted by an unknown enemy. What will be the result of the lethal games to Anya & the hybrids caught in a velvety prison of their own cravings for each other. But slowly, the realization trickled in… All was not normal as it should be, the love they forged, was a test of devotion that was still withstanding the time since before time began…

🗯️ too freaking good... but also really dark and sometimes sweet. I don't think I've ever read an ff as well-written as this one. plot's insane too. (this is actually a whole universe with side stories that you would be told to read along the way to understand the lore, so good it's crazy that it's free)

Sweet as Honey by sugakookie98

In a time where omegas are increasingly rare, others constantly question your resistance to find a mate. No one seemed to understand that you were content to stay in your comfort zone, focusing solely on your job. However, a series of unexpected events set your quiet world into motion, making you question your outlook on life and on mating bonds.

🗯️ another Idk what to say but it's really good

The Butterfly Effect by themonsterteddy

Easily attached hybrids get adopted into a family. Lei, the protagonist, is the quietest member of the family. Follow them to explore the lovely bond developing between them.

🗯️ a super warm read <3

The Butterseries by @minniepetals

Their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich, and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would’ve known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?

The Byeoljali series by LittleShyGirl

❶ Finding A Place

As an isolated, lonely omega raised by humans, you have little understanding of how other wolves live. When you take a promotion to become a member of the BTS staff, your world collides with the Bangtan Pack and you realise you have a lot to learn.

❷ Making A Home

Now that she's found where she belongs, follow Y/N as she learns how to truly be a part of the Bangtan Pack.

The Companion by MoonChild791

After being fired, the job of a lifetime lands in your lap. You up root your life and moved to Seoul, only to find out you'll be working with your favorite group, BTS. Slowly, you start to develop feelings for them. But that's crazy, right? You can't have feelings for all seven of them, it would never work out.....would it?

The Contract by namjuicyy

Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

The Last Lycans by RoxNotRocks

Sometimes, a fateful encounter takes the form of a bullet through the head… After years of living as a wolf, alone in the wild, Yu has no memory of her past and no idea what her true nature is. As she attempts to begin anew and discovers that her fate doesn't have to be a lonely one, her lost secret comes back to haunt her. When your past comes back with a vengeance, should you flee, or fight?

The Line Between Love and War by @purpleyoonn

Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

The Little Fox by @purpleyoonn

“The idea of being free was a foreign concept. Being free meant having choices, having opportunities. Being a hybrid meant never being free.” Just as you escaped the Little Fox, a bidding house, you find yourself at war with your thoughts, not wanting to go to another shelter. You didn’t expect yourself to find a home anywhere, especially not with the men who found you, and their pack.

The Pictures That Talk by @imnotlauriane

In a world where everyone has a special ability, mine is giving life to pictures. It allows me to see what happened behind the camera, reliving the moment when it was taken, as the subject. It's something I really cherish, but it can also come with great pain, so it's to be used carefully. I look at my finger, rings of fate black and cold. And I wonder, will I ever meet my soulmates?

The Seven by chewymilkyoda

When a young 17 year old girl and her friend went to an empty mansion that is reported as 'haunted', she never knew that her life would changed when she accidentally woke up 7 dangerous vampires that has been asleep for centuries. And boy is she in for a long-ass ride of fantasy shit that she never even knew about.

The Seven Princes by wassap_its_hunter

Being known as Nyx, you never had an easy life. With the expectations of being the world's best-renowned assassin and hunter, protector of your people, and a babysitter of five children, you can't really expect to have time in your hands to relax, the world being run by werewolves, witches, vampires, mermaids and more. But now, another role has been added. After hearing the princes of the biggest empire in the world, the Asian Kingdom, say the word "mate", you're scared for what is about to come. But then again you're Nyx, one of the very few humans that survived and became known, you could take a challenge like that.

🗯️ mc is so cool and the boys are whipped. my favourite.

The Seven Red Flags of HAKON University by tinyeyecat / emi ree

Born in the hell hole of Space Port 69, Rue’s a human Omega desperate to leave the alien whore house she calls home. Defying all odds, she masquerades as an Alpha and obtains a scholarship to the Ivy League of all space institutions. HAKON University is an all-male school that trains the cream of the crop—future leaders of the galaxies. Rue's just here to graduate, pretend to have a dick and then flee into the workforce, that is until the legendary Bangtan pack sets their eyes on her. They’re the future emperors—aliens with godlike abilities that make them rulers of their species. But with excessive power comes the price of testosterone-fuelled insanity that cannot be soothed. An esper will always need his guide. They’ve been searching for a final member to quell their raging soul-an eighth to complete their pack. Millions have tried for a taste of the peak, but none have succeeded, and thousands die from their power unable to withstand the bond. Bangtan doesn’t chase their prey, they don’t have to, but this time the seven Alphas want Rue.

🗯️ it's emi ree so it's gonna be insane!

The Siren's Song by PurpleQueenie

Modern day Seoul and myths don't go along hand in hand as easily as one might think. When for centuries (Y/N) has been bound to the Ocean, serving her duty as a siren- waiting for the day when it'll finally end, who knew stumbling across seven different souls would've been the reasons she needed to start living again, feeling again- even if it meant losing herself in the process.

🗯️ this might be my ultimate fave among queenie's stories. it's just soo good. mc who became the best version of herself after meeting the boys who support her despite the villain's constant torture. also, mc is just so full of life despite the ... it's amazing, go read it!

Through Her Eyes series by Gigi_Luv_4u

❶ Through Her Eyes

In the world of soulmates, perhaps Daun is the only one who does not expect for any soulmate to come. She doesn't have the soul marks that everyone supposed to have. Not one ink on her skin, no time marks on her wrists, no glowing red strings... but why does one day, seven gorgeous men claims to be her soulmate? And these seven are none other than the greatest boy band in the world?

❷ Through Her Eyes: Eternal

Multiples puffing out to the open has been on the news, but not as often as Daun with her seven. Now, more than ever, people have made their lives more than just a curious entertainment. Snippets of their married lives have become great treasures of inspirations that the entire world would simultaneously coo. No one can't blame them with how adorable they have cultivated their marriage to an inspiring one. Not to mention with the new additional members that surely adds more life to their already dynamic universe. Or… How does a family of Multiples go through their lives?

To Be, Or Not To Be Your Omega by Anonymous

Which would be harder? To be an Omega in an Alpha's world, or to have to play Omega to a pack of Alpha's that's known across the WHOLE world? As if disguising your gender truth isn't hard enough, how many omegas can say they have seven alphas that want to claim them? That went to the trouble of drafting up an overly generous contract just to have you as their omega? Oh, why did they have to find out your truth? Maybe it won't be so bad to be theirs, even if it's only by contract? After all, they're all so handsome, and smell so good, and— Is it wrong to have your inner omega cooing at the idea that this could become more than just your Omega status being taken advantage of like it's been all over the world?

To Be, or Not To Be Your Omega REBOOT by Anonymous

What would you do if you suddenly found yourself playing Omega to not just one, but seven world-renowned Alphas? Your struggle to conceal your true gender pales in comparison to this new challenge. These Alphas want to claim you. They've gone so far as to draft an outrageously generous contract just to have you as their Omega. But as your scent betrays your truth, you're left wondering: why did they have to find out? As you contemplate your fate, you can't help but think – maybe being theirs wouldn't be so bad, even if it's just by contract? After all, they're devastatingly handsome, their scents intoxicating, and... wait, is your inner Omega actually cooing at the idea? You've spent your life seeing Omegas taken advantage of across the world. Could this be different? Could this become more than just another power play? In this story, you'll navigate a world of primal instincts, hidden truths, and unexpected desires. Are you ready to step into the shoes of an Omega on the brink of a life-changing decisions?

Trouvaille by @spookyserenades

Until The Last Star Falls by Lov3Mochi / @minniepetals

In a world where hybrids are both the hottest commodity and largely exploited, a recent shortage of hybrids nationwide due to the wealthy adopting for sport hunting dominates the news headlines. More than ever, stray hybrids are whisked off the streets and taken into shelters to meet the demand. Mistreated, neglected, forgotten – in a notoriously disreputable hybrid shelter in a pocket of downtown Boston, seven “aggressive” hybrids await their inevitable fate of being sold for sport.

After years of trying to distance herself from her mystical past and upbringing, Y/N finds herself quitting her emotionally-draining job and is forced to face past mistakes. While accompanying her friends looking to adopt a child hybrid into their newly-formed family, Y/N inadvertently finds herself face-to-face with seven hybrids doomed to die. In a spur of the moment epiphany, Y/N decides to change the course of fate for the better; though bringing seven aggressive hybrids into her life and the darkening spiritual energy of her old home is trickier to navigate than she originally thought.

🗯️ I really appreciate the length of every chapter. like, so much details put into each and every chapter, and each chapter it just gets better and better.

It was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you’d go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

🗯️ so freaking good! a painful journey of love, full of longing and sacrifice.

You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga

You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

사람 (People) by thearmyprof

You are preparing to move across the Pacific Ocean and start a new chapter in your life, when a chance meeting with a man in a coffee shop has you questioning the timing of everything in the universe. When you hit it off on your first date, little do you know that the man you’ve already fallen head over heels for is, in fact, a member of BTS.

🗯️ this story doesn't include any insane themes, but so enjoyable and heartwarming. the characters also feel human, well-written.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | NAVI

#san recs #hybrid bts #bts poly #bts x reader #fics recs #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic

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yooglefics · 6 months ago

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Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader ) Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried. Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again.

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name.

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip.

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you.

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included.

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?”

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat.

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You don't answer.

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’s fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He asks you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?”

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?”

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him.

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times.

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?”

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day.

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy.

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in.

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers.

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please”

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want.

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.”

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…”

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again.

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.”

“You want some help with that?”

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly.

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.”

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth.

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the feeling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm.

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat.

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea.

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your fingers grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.”

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then.

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, biting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.”

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[ afterhours(y/n): Thank you for the birthday wishes! I indeed got a nice present, don't you think? [ picture ] ]

[ SugaD: Unbelievable 😻 Can we do something for my birthday too? ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

#( writing. )#( reveal )#( reveal: celebrating )#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x f!reader #yooglefics

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missmonsters2 · 1 year ago

Text

Mirror, Mirror | Six: Epilogue

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART FIVE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never really thought about Wanda other than the fact that she's your best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. It just wasn't in the realm of possibilites, so you never let yourself develop feelings. At least until someone points out that you have a very specific type when it comes to dating, so maybe it is all subconscious? Reader's POV

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: Mini Series is completed! Thank you so much for tagging along with me <3 Explicit version available in a week.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~3.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You rarely think about sentences that could change your life.

There are too many instances that could change your life; therefore, it would be moot to think about.

You have a terminal illness.

You've won 69 million dollars.

Someone you love has horrifically died—no, there were no remains.

It's all too overwhelming to think about; therefore, you don't. Yet, somehow, if you ever did think about life-changing sentences, you didn't think it could ever be, "Hey, have you noticed how you seem to exclusively date girls who look like Wanda?"

And it was like the ground crumbled underneath you. It was such a sickening realization—not that Wanda was in any way sickening—it was the fact that you might just be subconsciously a pervert.

The more you thought about the words, the more horrifying it became. Every one-night stand, every situationship, every girlfriend—god, they all looked like Wanda.

You're too scared to think about it deeper in fear of what it would reveal subconsciously every time you kissed or fucked a girl. Were you thinking of Wanda? God, you just couldn't think about it.

This was all Bucky's fault. You wished you had never gone out onto that balcony that night.

3 months prior to that night at the bar with Wanda & Steve

The cool air felt better, and the breeze settled on the back of your neck. There was definitely too much wine going around, and you only managed to escape as Tony brought out the hard liquor.

The crowd dispersed after several shots you didn't partake in. You stared into the distance, thinking idly how Tony had way too much money. Old money was ridiculous. Why does someone need a garden fountain as big as a pool?

Movement caught the corner of your eye, and you saw Wanda and Vision walking through the dimly lit garden. You smiled fondly at your best friend as she laughed at whatever charming thing Vision had managed to say.

Vision was...just okay, in your opinion. You thought he was too nonchalant about Wanda, and that was why they were so on and off rather than consistently being together. Wanda deserved someone who loved her fiercely, and you couldn't imagine Vision always putting Wanda first.

You watched with slight melancholy when Wanda linked her arms through his as they sat on the ledge of the garden fountain. You wished you had also brought someone along for this party.

"Hey, thought I saw you sneak out here."

You turned around and saw Bucky holding a glass of beer. You smirked at him with mirth. "You know what I must do when Tony starts bringing out the grey goose."

Bucky shuddered, clearly having been roped into a few shots. He came and stood next to you, catching the scene you were staring at. "Guess they're back on then?"

You shrugged. "Guess so. We'll see how long it lasts. I'm betting 3 months."

"Be realistic. It'll be 2 and a half months," Bucky snorted.

"Ye of little faith," you teased and then sighed. "I wish I also brought someone along. I should've brought that girl I met at my photoshoot."

"The brunette with green eyes?" Bucky asked, and you nod. "You know what I've noticed?"

"Hm?" you hummed in response to Bucky's casual tone.

"You seem to have a very specific type when it comes to dating," Bucky mused. "They're always brunette—save those two girls from university—and they always have green eyes."

You furrow your brows in serious thought. "I suppose so."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, his tone still casual. "They always remind me of Wanda, especially from the back. I always have to make sure I'm careful not to mix up your date with Wanda."

Bucky ended it with a chuckle, stating he was getting cold before he left without another world, leaving you alone outside.

The connect dots snapped into place almost instantly, horrifying you as you continued to stare at Wanda from above.

Oh, fuck.

Maybe it was a good thing you didn't bring anyone tonight. You're not sure how you'd be able to take someone home into your bed with the daunting realization you go after girls who look like your best friend...because you actually want your best friend.

The three months since that discovery had nearly driven you to insanity. Since you refused to talk to anyone about it, most of your thought process was, " Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no."

But in the end, you resolved that it couldn't happen. Wanda would never reciprocate your feelings in a million years, especially since she had Vision. Wanda occasionally even talked about the possibility of marrying him down the road.

It wasn't happening. It was never going to happen.

Wanda was more important to you than anyone in the whole entire world. You would never allow anything to risk the friendship—even your feelings.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You felt like a sick sexual deviant.

Despite your resolve to bury your feelings and continue on as normal, it was getting increasingly weird to continue to see girls who looked like Wanda. Yet, you couldn't stop. It wasn't doing it for you otherwise.

But now, every time you kissed a girl, all you could see was Wanda in her. Sex was beginning to become a guilty pleasure for all the wrong reasons.

When you met Raye, it felt like another sinful thing to lust after, knowing how much she physically reminded you of Wanda. But you could see a big personality difference in the short time you spent chatting with Raye.

Wanda was the type you spoiled, indulging in her strange, wacky ideas. She could be very emotional, swinging from one side of the spectrum to another. She had such a big heart, willing to love, but also held grudges and was wicked if crossed. Wanda was a brat in all the loving ways you could mean.

Raye could be best described as emotionally consistent. On the surface, she portrayed a wicked sense of humor and was fun to be around, but she was much more guarded than Wanda. She was very independent, not liking anything that might even intrude on her freedom. Raye kept her true feelings close to herself and seemed to be teasing you to come find out.

It was different. You didn't mind, maybe liking it even (purely in the sense it was the opposite of Wanda, and you couldn't afford to keep lusting after your best friend in all possible ways).

Even so, your mind was distracted on the first date.

"Have you ever done a boudoir photoshoot?" Raye asks, her tone low and seductive.

"Can't say that I have," you smile, trying to remind yourself to be present during the date. It's been long since you've properly wined and dined someone, and Wanda kept entering your thoughts.

"Well, there's a first for everything and you might even have a willing model," Raye bit her bottom lip suggestively, her index finger stroking the back of your hand.

And while the southern twang does stir something in you, and you feel your stomach tingling, you're very aware that it's because Raye physically reminds you of Wanda. So, your mind traitorously imagines Wanda biting her lip and saying seductive things to you.

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

You whip your head around, swearing you heard Wanda. When there was no sign of her, you furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to Raye.

Was this a sign of insanity?

You resolve right then and there to focus on the lovely brunette before you and enjoy the date. It was easy enough if you relaxed and earnestly asked Raye questions about herself.

It was easy enough to hold Raye's hand and swing it back and forth if you just thought about how warm they were.

It was enough to giggle when Raye leaned in closer to whisper something silly or naughty in your ear if you just thought about how her breath felt on the shell of your ear.

Suddenly, the car next to you went off, the alarm beeping loudly enough to make you and Raye jump in surprise. You turned around and noticed the couple behind you were gone. You thought they looked slightly familiar, but it was too difficult to determine when they were so far away in the dark under passing streetlights.

Ultimately, you walk Raye up her steps, unsure what you want your next move to be. Everything feels strange since the revelation. You feel guilty for your lust, but specifically what causes it.

But when Raye pulled you in for a hot, searing kiss, you decided to just go with the flow...which also ended up being nothing as she got a call from her sister while clothes were discarded.

The call was only bordering on 40 seconds, but you decided your momentum was lost, and you needed that momentum to have sex with someone else while you tried (unsuccessfully) to not think about Wanda.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Fuck. Darcy.

Those were the only words that could come to your mind after Wanda texted her vague answer about whether or not she was returning home tonight.

You sighed as you scrolled through the videos and photos, trying to get a headstart on putting together the video for Tony and Pepper. As you began opening up files, many were corrupted by the inability to open or glitchy images.

With another sigh, your chair scraped against the floor as you shifted back, pulling out your phone and shooting a quick text to the videographer asking if you could meet up tomorrow to get the SD card for the originals. You got a prompt reply with a thumbs-up emoji with a time and place.

You thought you might've just heard something shuffle in your room, but you forget about it when it's quiet again.

In the end, you spent another 45 minutes scrolling through some other photos that weren't corrupted, catching Wanda in the background and staring with a lingering thought about how absolutely pretty she was.

A part of you was in disbelief that Wanda was interested in women. You had so many questions that still lingered, but you didn't want to push Wanda or make it seem like you were interrogating her, and she needed to prove it.

Still, you wondered what exactly made Wanda come to terms with the fact that she liked women.

Specifically, why couldn't you be the reason she was interested in women? You shoved those forbidden feelings down, beating them back into its box to put away.

It didn't matter.

It shouldn't matter.

You're with Raye, and Wanda may be with Darcy. Or some other girl, or maybe even with a guy again.

It's just not going to be you.

And that's okay, you tell yourself. You can love someone without having to pursue anything. You just want to be there for Wanda.

Of course, all of this changed the moment you watched a slanted confession video from an unaware Wanda while your roommate was out for lunch with a client.

Shock is the only thing that registers upon the video finishing. Were you hallucinating again? Was this like the first date with Raye where you kept thinking you could hear or see glimpses of Wanda?

But you played the video over and over, blinking every time it was finished.

Then a burst of strange laughter bubbled from your mouth, and then horror dawned on you that, 'oh, fuck. She actually feels the same way.'

It was unclear whether or not Wanda was trying to let her feelings be known or if she was also facing the same issue as you, where she was suppressing them. Either way, Wanda would unlikely be brave enough to say anything soon.

You spent the week humming and hawing about what pursuing a relationship with your best friend would mean. What would the consequences be if things didn't work out? What would the consequences be if you declined to pursue anything more despite if Wanda confessed? What would the consequences be to watch Wanda move on and love someone else?

Your stomach dropped.

You needed to break up with Raye.

Your stomach dropped.

You wait 3 more days before confronting Wanda since she's clearly a chicken.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You knew you had feelings for me for at least 3 months?" Wanda screeches. "And you said nothing?!"

"Okay, relax, you banshee," you wince at the sound. "How is that the only thing you hung onto out of everything I just told you?"

"But...but!" Wanda narrows her eyes on you. "It was getting serious with Raye!"

"Serious?" you raise your brow at Wanda. "What gave you the idea it was getting serious? We were dating but I saw her maybe a few days out of a month with how much she flies out for work."

"So, it wasn't getting serious at all?" Wanda frowns.

"Well," you purse your lips. "Maybe for Raye. She was considering transferring to another department so she wouldn't have to fly out anymore."

Wanda's mouth hangs open, her face pale with the worst thoughts of what might've been if they never confessed their feelings.

"Which," you cut in like you're able to read her mind, "obviously, I told her to not do as I wanted to end things with her."

"How did she take it?" Wanda asks curiously.

You look uncomfortable as you shift in bed, but Wanda waits patiently. "I think she just emotionally shut down. There were no tears, no screaming, or any accusations about why I was ending things. She just looked impassive as she accepted it and asked me to leave."

"Oh," Wanda bit her bottom lip. She feels bad in a way, but not bad enough to regret making you hers. "I'm sorry, bug."

You sigh as you reach over and pull Wanda close, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. The blanket shifts down, exposing Wanda's neck and collarbone where you had unabashedly marked up.

"Now, are you done with the questions, or can we resume where we left off?" You ask mischievously, pressing languid kisses against the side of her neck.

Wanda closes her eyes with a soft hum, pressing her body closer to yours until you shift and move over Wanda.

"I notice that you didn't mention anything about Darcy."

"Mention what exactly?" You say between kisses, stroking Wanda's hip. "That I was insanely jealous and wished her ill? Although, now that I know it was a fake date and neither of you had interest in each other, she seems nice."

Wanda laughs. "Even after she hacked your laptop?"

"With your help, might I remind you," you pull up and pointedly look at her. "But if she never corrupted those wedding files, I would've never got the original SD card and found out about your feelings."

"Very true," Wanda muses as she throws her head around your neck and pulls you close. She pecks your lips charmingly. "We should get her a nice bottle of wine."

"What about Steve and Bucky."

Wanda scoffs. "They're meddling little school girls who are probably kicking their feet and giggling."

You can't help but laugh before you dive in for another kiss, eager but slow. Oh, man. You were going to love Wanda for the rest of your life.

After a moment, Wanda sighs. "Okay, fine. We can give our McDonald's coupons to Steve and Bucky."

You laugh again. "Alright, brat."

"Okay, stinky."

"Chicken."

"Stupid."

"Witch."

"Here we go again with that," Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. "I'll have you know that if I were a witch, I'd be the most powerful and best witch ever."

"I bet you would," you agree very readily. "Instead of cursing people to death, you'd be saving their lives...or causing mass chaos. Huh, I guess that's not so different from now."

Wanda scoffs indignantly before she starts tickling you. You laugh, trying to jerk away, but Wanda is persistent in keeping you in place.

"Mercy!" You laugh as you roll to the side.

"Take that back! I do not cause chaos!"

"I take it back! You're clearly an A-List superhero!"

Wanda continues to tickle you anyway. "Say you love me!"

"I love you!"

Only then does Wanda stop, grinning wickedly as she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and you're breathing heavily.

You want to call her a menace, but you're afraid that will only result in another tickle fight.

Wanda smiles warmly.

"I love you, too."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"See, I told you Wanda would be the one to confess!" Steve smirks.

"That's because you're a little cheater who went and nudged Wanda along," Bucky rolls his eyes with a smile.

"Oh, yeah, like you're the perfect picture of fair," Steve narrows his eyes. "Don't think I don't know that you went to Bug first. I had to step in and nudge Wanda to make the odds even."

"Was it really Wanda who confessed when it was Bug who technically discovered her secret."

Steve seems to think about it before he slumps into the sofa, "I feel like that's a gray area." Then, Steve frowns. "Ugh, but then that means neither of us wins the bet."

"We can just call it even," Bucky shrugs, laying his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Oh, no," Steve shakes his head. "I won't let you wriggle out of our bet. We will watch all the Lord of the Rings movies if you lose."

Bucky groans loudly. "But there's so many and they're so long."

"You really think I want to watch the Star Wars movies?" Steve rolls his eyes.

"They're a classic!" Bucky argues.

"So is Lord of the Rings."

Bucky huffs but concedes. "Fine," he wrinkles his nose. "Should we bet on something else?"

"No, I like the thrill of two people getting together, even if it takes time. Besides, we have the time since we have to finish a whole bunch of shows," Steve says.

"Hm, which ones of our friends are due to get together?" Bucky muses.

"We could try Nat and Maria," Steve suggests.

"No, too hard since Maria doesn't live here," Bucky shakes his head and then offers, "Yelena and Kate?"

"I think they're actually already together," Steve furrows his brows. "But if they're not, I'm too scared of Yelena to get involved in her affairs."

"I think that's all our friends who are technically single with a viable date option," Bucky sighs.

Silence falls between them before Steve suggests, "Want to bet when Tony and Pepper will announce they're pregnant?"

They stare at each other for a moment before they yell out their guess at the same time.

"6 months!"

The silliness of it all leaves Steve and Bucky giggling.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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queenshelby · 2 months ago

Text

Daughter Dearest (Part Six)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

As the day progressed, some more wild weather had settled in, but that did not prevent Cillian from going out and picking up a delivery for you, namely some photographs you had developed externally from your recent travels.

Usually, you liked to do these things yourself, in a studio of your own, at least when utilising analog films, but this was not an option right now. Cillian arrived home earlier than expected, his face still damp from the rain. The wind had picked up outside and the shutters beat against the brickwork of the house as he entered.

"Y/N," he called out, but you didn't answer. You had headphones on and was buried in one of your books.

He set the package down on the kitchen table and walked over to you, gently touching your shoulder. You looked up at him in surprise.

"I got your pictures," he said, pointing towards the table.

Your eyes lit up as you realized what he was referring to.

You pulled off your headphones and placed them next to you.

"Thank you so much for picking them up. You didn't have to," you exclaimed, beaming up at him, genuinely grateful.

"No problem," he replied with a soft smile.

You jumped up from the couch, making your way over to the kitchen table. You noticed that the package was slightly damp from the rain.

Carefully, you unwrapped the package, revealing an envelope full of developed photographs while Cillian stood behind you expectadly.

"Would you like to see them?" you asked, glancing back at him.

Cillian's gaze shifted between you and the envelope in your hands. He was curious, but he also didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

"Sure," he said finally, nodding his head. "I mean, unless they are too personal for you to share," he added quickly, remembering that you might not want him to see them.

You smiled at him, understanding what he meant. "I would love for you to see them," you told him, seeing how they weren't just random snaps. These photographs were part of your art and everything you photographed, especially during your last trip to Kenya, had a meaning. They showed a snapshot of life there, its beauty, its harshness, and everything in between.

You opened the envelope, carefully taking out each photograph, placing them on the counter. The room was silent, the sound of the shutters beating against the brickwork still echoing. It made the whole scenario more magical, making you feel as if you were back in Africa, immersed in all its vastness and incredible beauty.

You picked up the first photograph, a black and white image of a woman carrying a baby on her back. Her face was etched with lines that showed the passing of time, but her eyes held a spark of life and strength.

Cillian leaned over your shoulder to get a better look.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, taking in the woman's stoic expression and the way she was cradling her child with such tenderness.

You smiled, glad that he could appreciate the photo's beauty.

"Yes, I took that picture when I visited a Maasai village," you said, feeling a sense of pride bubbling up inside you.

"Their way of life is so different from ours, but there's so much beauty in their simplicity."

Cillian nodded in agreement, completely captivated by the raw emotion conveyed in the photograph. He pointed to the next picture, which showed a group of children playing in a dirt field with a makeshift soccer ball. "These kids look so happy," he observed, admiration in his voice.

"They were! I spent an entire afternoon with them," you replied, feeling a fondness for those kids coming back.

"They don't have much, but they truly know how to enjoy the simple pleasures. It's quite inspiring."

Your voice trailed off as you went through more pictures, showing mostly people and their raw emotions. Each face told a story, and this was obvious to Cillian who watched you, mesmerized by your passion for photography. It was clear to him that this wasn't just a hobby for you, but a calling. He couldn't help but be impressed by your ability to capture moments, feelings, and the spirit of the places and people you've encountered.

You turned around to look at Cillian, noticing how he seemed lost in thought. " What's on your mind?" you asked him gently, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.

Cillian started and looked at you, his gaze softening as he saw the concern etched on your face. "Nothing, I am just...," he stammered, unable to put his feelings into words just yet.

"Just what?" you pressed, sensing that something was bothering him.

He licked his lips nervously, indecision etched on his face. "I think that you have a true gift Y/N. These photographs are incredible," Cillian finally managed to say, his voice tinged with admiration.

You smiled, warmth spreading through you at the compliment, grateful for his acceptance and encouragement.

As the day went on, you, Cillian and you spent some more time together after, due to the bad weather, he had postponed his plan to catch up with his mate Dermont. You noticed the easy way Cillian interacted with you and the way he listened intently as you spoke about your photography, understanding and appreciating the way it moved you. He even shared some of his stories from his early filming days, for a bit of nostalgia.

Yet, despite this familiarity, there still lingered a sense of unspoken tension between the two of you. A pull that neither of you could explain or understand. It was an awkward dance of avoidance and stolen glances every so often.

The day after though, the weather cleared and Cillian went to see his best friend, meeting up with him for pint of Guiness downtown while you stayed at home.

You were still under house arrest and were only permitted to leave the property for an hour each day, during which you had to remain within a five-kilometer radius of where you lived. This was to permit you to exercise and attend to important matters, like shopping for essentials.

These restrictions were frustrating, and the monitor had caused a rash to appear on your ankle, but you tried to stay positive. At least you weren't in jail.

While Cillian was out, you took the opportunity to call Nadine, asking her to come over but, unfortunately for you, she declined. She had an interview for a new job that day and really couldn't miss it.

As you spoke to Nadine, who appeared somewhat reserved over the phone and when you asked her about what was wrong, she revealed to you that she had heard rumors concerning your arrest.

"I ran into Kevin at the hostel bar last night and I think it may have been Lucy who got the drugs into your bag," Nadine explained.

You frowned, feeling a surge of anger well up inside you. "But why would she do something like that?" you asked, incredulously.

Nadine sighed. "Well, apparently she was pretty pissed about you and Kevin having hooked up," Nadine explained, not condoning your mutual's friend's actions but clearly trying to explain the circumstances.

You scowled, frustration building up inside you at Lucy's pettiness. "But I haven't hooked up with Kevin at all," you hissed, your voice barely controlled. "In fact, most guys repulse me and that most certainly includes him," you added with a shiver of disgust.

Nadine remained silent for a minute, as if contemplating her next words carefully. "I know you didn't, but Lucy is pretty impulsive," she finally said, sympathetic. "Not that it makes it right though," she quickly added.

"But what am I supposed to do now?" you asked, frustrated. "I almost went to fucking jail because of her," you went on to say.

Nadine sighed heavily. "Look, Y/N, I don't know, but I should really go now. I have that interview in half an hour," Nadine said, her voice gentle and concerned.

"I know, I am sorry," you said, feeling a pang of regret. "I shouldn't be ranting," you went on to say.

"No, don't be silly. I'm always here for you, that's what friends are for," Nadine replied warmly. "But promise me that you won't do anything stupid," she added , feeling a sense of responsibility towards you.

You sighed heavily. "I won't," you answered, although this was far from the truth seeing how, as soon as Nadine hung up, you checked out Lucy's social media to see where she was at.

According to Instagram, she was still in town and you knew that you had to confront her. You wanted to get your name cleared and you wanted to tell her exactly what you thought of her. You were angry and you wanted her to know that you weren't someone to be messed with.

Thus, you quickly threw on a jacket, grabbed your sister's car keys, and headed out the door. The cold wind hit your face as you stepped outside, but you barely noticed. You were too focused on the task at hand.

As you drove towards the hostel, which was about nine kilometers away, your heart raced with anger. You couldn't believe that she had done something like this to you. You had never done anything to her, yet she had still decided to frame you.

The audacity of it all infuriated you, but you pushed past your rage and focused on the task at hand.

The hostel was crowded with young travelers, but you spotted her easily. She was sitting in the courtyard, sipping on an iced coffee and chatting with a tall blonde girl.

You approached her, feeling a surge of anger building up inside you. "Lucy," you said, your voice cool and controlled.

She looked at you, surprise flashing across her face. "Y/N?

What are you doing here?" she said, looking around nervously.

You ignored her question and cut to the chase. "Why did you plant drugs in my bag?" you demanded, anger tingeing your voice.

Lucy's eyes widened, and she looked at you in shock. "What? No, I didn't," she stammered, trying to deny it.

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on your face. "Don't lie to me, Lucy. I know it was you," you told her sternly , your voice firm and unyielding.

She fidgeted, looking guilty as charged. "Fine. I did it. But I didn't mean for it to go this far," she whispered, finally admitting her wrongdoing.

"What do you mean you didn't mean for it to go this far?" You asked incredulously, not understanding why she would do something like this in the first place.

"I was drunk, and I heard about you hooking up with Kevin earlier that night. It made me jealous, and in the heat of the moment, wanted you to get in trouble," Lucy confessed, tears streaming down her face.

You stared at her, shocked and angry. "You must be joking! How could you do something so stupid? I could have ended up in jail just because of your drunken fit of jealousy!" you shouted, your voice incredulous.

"I am so sorry Y/N. I even went to see you the morning after, just before you left, but you had already gone. I wanted to warn you and make it all right. I promise," Lucy said, sniffling and rubbing her eyes just as, suddenly, you watched as a police car pulled up into the hostel parking lot, and it was then when you looked down at your ankle, seeing a red light flashing on it.

"Oh fuck," you hissed, realisation dawning on you and, before you had time to act, Lucy got up and ran off while the officers were approaching you.

You stood there, frozen on the spot, with your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe what was happening.

"Miss Y/N Y/LN?" one of the officers called out, approaching you cautiously.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your shaking hands as the figure in uniform stepped closer.

"You are in breach of your house arrest, Miss," the officer stated calmly, but with an underlying tone of authority.

You nodded dumbly, looking down at the monitor on your ankle. The red light blinked menacingly, betraying your location to the people who held your freedom in their hands.

"I'm sorry, I can explain," you stammered, attempting to reason with the officers in front of you. "I know who did what I got in trouble for and I came here to confront her," you said, quickly reaching for the device on your ankle, scratching your skin beneath.

"Well, ma'am, we will have to take you down to the station and you can call your next of kin and your solicitor when we get there," the second officer said, his tone stern but not unkind.

He and the first officer took hold of your arms, guiding you gently but firmly towards the patrol car parked outside the hostel.

As they led you away, you couldn't help but feel a wave of embarrassment sweep over you. What had you gotten yourself into? It was like a bad dream from which you couldn't wake up and, if they actually called your mother while she was on vacation, you knew you would never hear the end of it.

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 2 months ago

Text

Interruption | Part 04

-> Pairing: mafia husband!Kim Hongjoong x mafia wife!Reader

-> Sypnosis: Things go to hell for Y/N.

-> Warnings: mafia au. Italics are flashbacks. the other korea is mentioned. talks of being a spy. alludes to someone being told to kill themselves. guns. someone gets shot (but spoiler: they don't die).

-> Word Count: 1,490

-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the taglist form.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | Tag List Form

As they make their way to the restaurant, Y/N flips through the folder that Wooyoung had given her earlier. “Ha-Na’s mother isn’t blameless in all of this,” she remarks, her eyes scanning the pages before she passes them to Hongjoong. Several sheets are filled with old photographs and documents related to the woman and her daughter. The folder starts to feel like a ticking time bomb, each page a revealing something that could unravel the carefully constructed facade Ha-Na’s and her mother, Ahn Soo-Ah have created for themselves. “She was troubled well before she got involved with Mun and my father.”

She pauses when she sees the face of the man who had tormented her mother after her father abandoned them. His cold, calculating gaze seems to pierce through her, rekindling the rage she felt the last time she encountered him. Her fists tighten as she realizes that this woman not only played a part in her father leaving but also in the hell that ensued afterwards.

“Ha-Na and her mother have no clue who they’re up against,” she mutters, mostly to herself, but Hongjoong nods in agreement. He’s seen firsthand the consequences of someone pushing his wife too far and feels no sympathy for anyone who might provoke her.

“We need to be more careful this time,” Hongjoong advises her. “This isn’t just about someone trying to take over our empire. It’s much more personal than that,” he says taking the folder from her.

Y/N pulls out her phone and calls Yunho. The man picks up immediately. "We're on our way," he informs her.

"I need to know if you found anything about my father?" she asks.

"I was just about to send you his details and address," he replies. “You should also know Ha-Na's mother is with him.”

"Forward it to some of our men and have them bring them to Mun's restaurant," she instructs. "Make sure to warn them that if they try anything, they'll be dead the moment they step through those doors."

With that she ends the call as they pull up outside the restaurant.

“Sorry, my mother couldn’t make it. She was murdered not long after our father left her, but you already know that,” Y/N glances at her father and doesn’t find an ounce of remorse but she can see the fear in them. “Now sit,” she orders all of them. San forces her father to sit down as Soo-Ah quickly sits in the chair next to him, feigning being terrified.

“You too, Ha-Na,” she says waving her gun at her before pointing it at her mother. “I don’t want to kill her before you hear what I have to say.”

Wooyoung comes closer, snatching the gun from Ha-Na, glaring at her and forces her into the chair next to her mother. With the gun pointed at her mother, Ha-Na abides and doesn’t make a fuss. Now that Soo-Ah was brought into it, Ha-Na calmed and the situation became more controllable. It was all the proof she needed to know that the woman who had broken her family is her half-sister's weakness.

“Do you know why your mother stayed with Mun and our dear father had to wait all those years to be with her?” she questions Ha-Na, leaning in closer to her. “I’m sure you do since you’re all in this together,” she says waiting for Ha-Na to reply. The younger woman shakes her head but her quick glance towards her mother tells Y/N that she’s lying. “That’s what I thought. You two are close right?” she asks looking between the two women. They both nod. “That must be nice,” she mutters and steps back from them while Yeosang hands her the folder she’d been going through earlier. She opens it and drops it, its contents spilling on to the table, showing photos of a younger version of Soo-Ah, with a man dressed in military gear. Some of the photos she has a large belly, and some of them have her with a baby.

Y/N observes as Soo-Ah's fake look of fright, turns into one of anger showing where Ha-Na gets her terrible acting skills from.

“You didn’t think I would find out that you were enlisted as a spy?” She taunts. “Or that Ahn Soo-Ah is not your real name? Ri Mi-Rae.”

Upon hearing her real name, Soo-Ah's face darkens. If looks could kill, Y/N would be six feet under. The atmosphere shifts, the air thick with unspoken threats. Hongjoong steps closer to Y/N, sensing the tension. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but his eyes remain fixed on Soo-Ah.

Soo-Ah hisses, her voice low and dangerous, "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"I know exactly what I'm dealing with, Ri Mi-Rae,” Y/N straightens, her resolve hardening. “You’re nothing but a con-woman who leaves destruction everywhere she goes. I’m truly surprised the North hasn’t caught up with you, yet. Maybe I should send you back myself.”

“She would rather kill herself, than go back there,” Ha-Na retorts, while their father continues to sit there scared for their lives.

“Should we test that?” Y/N says, taking a gun and handing it towards Mi-Rae only when everyone of her mens guns were pointed at her. “Try anything and they’ll end you quicker than you can blink. Now go on, prove your daughter right,” she urges, her tone a mix of challenge and provocation.

Mi-Rae's eyes flickered to the gun, then back to Y/N. With her head held high, she silently refuses to take the gun. "You think you can intimidate me?" Mi-Rae finally spoke, her voice steady. "You have no idea what I’ve survived, what I’ve done to stay alive. You, little girl, don’t scare me. I’ve faced worse than you."

Y/N's grip on the gun tightens, her resolve unyielding. "This isn't about fear. It's about choices you’ve made and how you’ve involved me in them,” she says her voice rising. Aiming the gun at Ha-Na while keeping her eyes locked on Mi-Rae, she pulls the trigger, ending Ha-Na’s life in an instant. "That was for my mother."

Mi-Rae looks at her a mix of shock and fury in her eyes. Ha-Na's body crumples to the ground, lifeless, letting Mi-Rae and her father, Ha-Joon know that she is no longer playing around.

Ha-Joon, filled with fear and confusion as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him, finally finds his voice. "You're a monster."

"Is that so? And who do you think turned me into this, father?" Y/N retorts, allowing her emotions to spill over towards the man who had abandoned her all those years ago. Just hearing his voice brought back memories long forgotten about and she was transported back to being that little girl, lost and alone.

Seizing the moment of distraction, Mi-Rae quickly grabs a gun and fires shots as she dashes out towards the back.

"Get her!" Y/N yells at her men as they duck for cover. Four of them make chase after Mi-Rae as she looks around to make sure no one was hit.

That's when her eyes land on her husband, bleeding from his chest and gasping for air. Her heart sinks into her stomach as she hurries to his side, and covers his wound with her hands trying to stop the bleeding as she yells at the others to help. Tears began to sting her eyes as she felt the warmth of his blood seep through her fingers.

"Stay with me," she begs, her voice shaking as panic grips her throat. She has never felt this terrified in her entire life.

"Y/N," Hongjoong's voice emerged weak and raspy as he lifted a hand to gently caress her cheek. "You need to get out of here. This isn’t safe for you." His eyes, usually so full of life, were clouded with pain, and Y/N could see the flicker of fear in them, not for himself, but for her.

"I won’t leave you," she cries, her heart racing as she presses harder against the wound, trying to will the blood to stop flowing.

"Y/N, listen to me," he gasped, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He winced, his hand slipping from her cheek to grip her wrist, his fingers trembling just as badly as hers. "I love you, Y/N. No matter what happens, remember that." His eyes locked onto hers, he calls for Wooyoung, “Get her out of here.”

Before anything more could be said, San pushes his way in, replacing Y/N’s hands with his own as Wooyoung pulls her up and rushes her out of the building before she has time to process what’s happening.

As she sits in the car with Wooyoung at the wheel, a chilling numbness envelopes the Mafia Queen’s body. Her voice, icy and determined, sends shivers down Wooyoung's spine as she declares, "I’m going to kill all of them. Her and everyone she cares about is dead."

@do-you-remember-summer-127 - @staytiny2000 - @rainydayteacups - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse -

@alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson -

@yeonjunnie – @hollxe1 - @laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 -

@everythingboutkpop - @oddracha - @http-gyu - @skittyneos - @pinkpunkdynamite -

@keshivibes - @katsukis1wife - @jjoongstar - @arki-sha - @forever-atiny -

@lixisoul99

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lostcherise · 1 month ago

Text

Green Is the Color

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!reader

summary: Jesse - a friend, a roommate, a fool who's hopelessly in love with you. He did his best keeping his feelings on check, but it all unraveled after one night you brought a guy home. (this is based on a request by @madzzz0797 my lovely mutual)

warnings/tags: roommates!au, pining, jealousy, allusions to masturbation, light angst (if you squint, i really need to improve on that), jealous jesse, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v,

word count: 8,237 (i'm sorry?? don't know what happened there)

Lady, lady love me, 'cause I love to lay here lazy.

Soft and distant singing was your alarm for the day, definitely a gentler sound than the angry robotic beeping of your digital alarm clock. A sleepy smile crept its way on your lips, your eyes still shut, and you snuggled deeper into the pillow with a content sigh. You rustled about a few more seconds beneath the covers, before you bravely opened your eyes and welcomed the warm glow of a sunny Sunday morning.

We got everything we need right here and everything we need it's enough. Just so easy when the whole world fits inside of your arms.

The singing grew louder as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen, accompanied by some occasional clanking of utensils. Walking on your tiptoes, you tried your best to be as stealthy as possible, it was a rare occasion to get to listen to Jesse sing. Your smile grew, and you bit your bottom lip fighting the urge to laugh at him. Although he was off key at times, you somewhat enjoyed his singing voice; just as buttery smooth as always.

Like waking up too early, maybe we could sleep in. Make you banana pancakes, pretend like it's the weekend now.

With his back still turned to you, he kept on singing, only interrupting himself for a celebratory 'yeah bitch' after successfully flipping a pancake into the air, to which you failed to contain your laugh, so much for stealth.

"Shit," Jesse whipped his head back to look at you. So much for a greeting. "Good morning." he smiled, face a tomato red and quickly redirected his attention back on the stove and he really hoped you hadn't noticed the rosy hue adorning his cheeks.

"Good morning," you smiled back at him. "How come you're cooking breakfast?" you peered over his shoulder, the pancake batter bubbling to life before Jesse flipped it to reveal the golden brown bottom.

"It's my turn to make us breakfast for the weekend, remember?" Jesse noted the obvious, with a teasing raise of a brow.

Realization hit you, sleep ridden eyes widening softly. "You're right." you bumped his shoulder with yours.

You smiled at the little tradition you two had created a year ago, a year after living together as roommates. Each weekend you guys took turns to cook breakfast for one another. It had all started after you had seen Jesse cook for the first time, what you later realized was his favorite choice of breakfast food - huevos rancheros. Initially, it had come as a shock to you, he really gave off the impression that he hardly knew how to boil an egg, which you also had admitted to him. And that's when he took it upon himself, as a personal challenge to prove himself and made it a house rule that you alternate cooking breakfast for each other on the weekends.

"Banana pancakes on the menu today, m'lady." Jesse informed you in a fake posh accent.

"God, you know your way around a lady's heart." you sighed, with a resting palm on your chest, and placed a quick peck on Jesse's cheek. Before he could even register what had just happened, you were already setting the fully stacked plate onto the small white worn down kitchen table, right next to the small kitchen stand that housed various appliances you had no room for in your guys' small kitchen .

When you weren't looking, with your back turned to him while you set up the coffee maker, Jesse moved to graze the spot your lips had left their fiery mark on. His cheek still burned beneath his touch, even after one minute had passed- as if the blood coursing through his veins had suddenly transformed into molten lava burning him on the inside out. See, ever since you and Jesse had moved in together, he found himself in a rather sticky predicament.

He was in love with you. And you didn't know. And mostly likely did not share the sentiment. And that's why he kept his mouth shut about it, and opted to suffer in silence.

Even now to this day, two years after his big revelation, he was scared. Scared of how much he loved you, scared of how one day he'd wake up and decide that he would come clean, two years was a long time to keep to himself after all, and risk losing his most meaningful friendship yet. It had been two years since that one night Jesse had come to surprise you at the end of a very tiring day of work and evening classes. He remembered how your brows were furrowed, while you hugged an oversized hoodie you had confiscated from Jesse's clean laundry two weeks prior, closer to you. Your head was hung low, and you were paying no mind to your surroundings, so much so that Jesse had to honk to get your attention.

And the moment your mood shifted when you had noticed him, was the first time his heart swelled up in his chest. How a wide grin stretched on your face, and how you had jogged excitedly over to his beloved Monte Carlo. The second time was just minutes after you had gotten in and and he had suggested you drop by your favorite ice cream parlor for a much needed pick me up. Jesse took much pride in being able to read you so well and know what you need in an instant, and that's how he had come to the conclusion that night that we was falling for you at light speed.

Deep down he knew that no good was bound to come out of this situation he had created for himself, but to his defense that wasn't entirely his fault; you had your part to play in this too. With the way your eyes twinkled when the sun shone just right during the golden hours of the day, the way they crinkled at the corners every time you laughed at a sorry attempt of a joke he would make, the way your nose would scrunch in distaste whenever you didn't like something, the way your plush lips pursed whenever you were deep in thought, the way your smell lingered on for just a few fleeting seconds whenever you would leave his side. You smelled like a mix of pears, oranges and jasmine, which in turn reminded him of being bundled up on the couch on a cozy autumn afternoon. And Jesse would be a liar to say that he didn't often dream of spending most of his days like that with you.

A series of expletives left Jesse's mouth, which in turn had your attention. You whipped your head back, just in time to see a black disk being discarded into the bin. "Mmm, crispy." you mused, scrunching your face in mock delight with a shimy of your shoulders.

"Shut up." Jesse flipped you off, but the smile dancing on his lips showed no annoyance.

With a playful eyeroll, you set two steaming cups of cheap drip coffe on the table. Jesse soon followed, a sugar jar on one hand and a bottle of maple syrup on the other. You stacked a couple of of pancakes onto your plate and proceeded to drizzle a bit of maple syrup on top, all the while Jesse threw in his fifth spoonful of sugar in his coffee. "I'm still surprised you have teeth." you quipped.

"These bad boys?" Jesse bared his surprisingly straight pearly whites at you. "Nah, they've been through worse." he shrugged and proceeded to take a sip of his coffee flavored syrup with a hum. And he was right; he'd been four years sober and you couldn't be more proud of him. Although he hardly believed so himself, Jesse had really managed to turn his life around. Getting kicked out of his aunt's house at just 19 was the start of a long journey towards recovery for him. At first the path was lonely with a lot of setbacks. His first struggle: passing his SATs and getting accepted to college. That was when you had come into the picture and that was when the steep uphill towards the top was less bleak with you on his side.

"That's why you should appreciate them more." you countered, left cheek all puffed and rounded, filled with sweet pillowy goodness that you washed down with bitter coffee, the contrasting flavors on your taste receptors sending happy signals to the neurons in your brain. Another bite, another appreciative hum that resembled a moan a little too much. With a quirk of a brow, you shot Jesse a quizzical look that fell unnoticed as he was too busy shoveling food in his mouth while fidgeting on his seat.

What you did not know was that at that moment, Jesse was fighting his own personal hell; trying to get those sinful sounds of yours out of his head. You really had no business moaning over some banana pancakes, he wasn't even that great of a cook; you had to be exaggerating on purpose. If that was the case, then you had definitely gotten what you wanted.

Oblivious, you continued eating, almost quietly. Almost. After every two bites or so, you'd sneakily slip a quiet moan that would have Jesse twitching in his pants. "You know what I think?" you asked, swallowing the last bite of your pancakes. "Ditch business," you pointed a fork at him, before grabbing another pancake from the now smaller stack. "Go to culinary school." To which you earned a disbelieving snort from him.

"You know what I think?" it was Jesse's turn to ask you that. He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with something more as they studied your face and in those seconds you took the chance to drink him in too. The five o'clock shadow that accentuated his chiseled cheeks and jawline, his eyes; the bluest oceans you often found yourself helplessly drowning in, the way the corners of his lips quirked into a smirk. "You pretend you like my cooking so you can get in my pants." he teased, his tone lower than usual.

"What would you do then?" you asked, surprising even yourself with your fowrward question. Part of you wouldn't mind if Jesse would brush it off entirely, pretend nothing was ever said, yet curiosity was eating at you from the inside. What would he do? What did you want him to do? It so seemed that Jesse was more dumbfounded at your brazeness, as he was a sputtering mess, wide eyes avoiding yours entirely, seemingly more focused on finishing his breakfast. Surprisingly so, another small part of you grew disappointed as seconds ticked by and Jesse remained silent, downing the last sip of his now lukewarm coffee.

"Gonna hit the, uh," he paused to clear his throat, voice thick and strained. "Hit the shower..." Jesse jutted his jaw on one side, the tip of his tongue rolling beneath his cheek and without saying much else, getting up in a hurry. Your gaze trailed his retreating form, until he disappeared into the hallway, and inside the bathroom.

A few seconds pass, before you decide to go back to your room, that was conveniently next to the bathroom. The sound of the shower running resonated through your room in a low, steady hum. You crawled into bed and closed your eyes as you laid there, relaxing.

Until you heard it.

At first you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, but no, you heard it again. A little louder this time. With your eyes transfixed on the ceiling, your mouth fell open as you let out a silent gasp. There it was again, it was almost being drowned out by the water running, but being right next to the bathroom it was hard to miss the sounds of Jesse moaning. Heat rushed to your cheeks, it felt so wrong, as if you were intruding in on his personal time. You could leave, hang around in the living room, until he finished, literally. Or, you could lay there and listen to Jesse struggle to keep his voice down, his sinful whimpers growing a tad louder as he brought himself closer to the edge.

"Jesus." your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at high speed. A familiar burning traveled all the way from your chest and nestled in your abdomen, your body pumping with a feeling you couldn't exactly put your finger on. Out of their own accord your thighs squeezed and squeezed until you could get a semblance of euphoria, but it was not enough. Jesse's muffled moans grew in frequency and a few curse words slipping in here and there, and you could hear the urgency in his voice.

"Oh....fuck." it was long and drawn out, and it was like music to your ears. Silence fell from the other side of the wall other than the water hitting the shower tiles, which also stopped after a minute or two. Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear the blood pumping in your ears, because what the fuck had just happened? You had just eavesdropped on your roommate masturbating and you enjoyed it. With a swift swipe of your tongue over your dry lips, you let out a sigh and turned your head to glare at the top drawer of your nightstand.

With a scrunch of your brows, you squeezed your eyes shut for a second, and reached inside for your old trusty pink vibrator. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, an alien sound leaving your lips as you sucked air in, and stared at the small yet wondrous toy in your hand. It sort of felt wrong that you were so turned on by your roommate jacking off, but you were so dead set on chasing your own high at that moment that you gave no second thoughts, and the toy buzzed to life.

The next weeks were pretty much spent trying not to think about that one Sunday morning, so much so that you sought temporary solutions in going out on dates, but to no avail. You couldn't quite put a finger on what it was, maybe like the fact that you looked for Jesse in all the guys you had gone out this, 'but Jesse...' always lingering in your mind as an afterthought to every little thing. You didn't know what it was exactly about that morning, but it had awakened suppressed emotions you hadn't even realized you had, or had chosen to ignore them. Only one guy, Andrew, was deemed worthy and made the cut, and that was only because he had earned the least amount of 'but Jesse's out of the previous ones, so he had earned himself a third date.

That is how you had ended up stumbling in inside your dark apartment, your tangled bodies hitting your entryway stand in a frenzied state of kissing and groping.

"Shh," you mumbled in between kisses, but that only seemed to spur Andrew on, and he let out a throaty moan the moment your fingers tugged at his golden brown hair, that very much resembled Jesse's. "Be quiet, you're gonna wake my roommate up." you broke the kiss with a whisper and blindly dragged him towards your room.

Meanwhile, he tried to attatch his lips wherever he could, whether it were along your arms, the side of your neck to which you moaned, only because your mind was wandering off to a certain someone. "I can. Question is," he paused, his lips overing just above your ear, his hot breath fanning over your skin. "Can you?" Easy there tiger, was how you truly wanted to respond, yet you masked it with a moan. He was sweet talking you the entire time but his words fell unnoticed as they mindlessly slipped from one ear and out the other. Clothes were being discarded in a frenzy and soon enough you found yourself tangled in between the sheets with the almost stranger.

The nightstand lamp cast a soft glow on his features, your eyes scanning his face, searching for a sense of familiarity. You found it in his eyes, the same hue as Jesse's yet they weren't the same at all. Andrew leaned down to bury himself in your neck, and your eyelids fluttered shut and pictured the only pair of blues you were longing for, while Andrew worked his way on your body, set on getting you there. The room was filled with noises of you, moans mixing in with the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin, that only grew faster by the minute. There it was, that familiar burning growing within, ready to envelop you like a wildfire. With furrowed brows, you tried to consentrate on it, trying your damn hardest not to let it slip away. Above you, Adrew groaned hotly, his rhythm growing sloppier by the second, and his hips stuttered as he stilled inside you and spilled into the condom.

And just like that, the fire dwindled.

Jesse dragged his feet across the hardwood floor, sluggishly making his way to the kitchen, dragging a hand across his bed ridden eyes and face. Despite having splashed his face with cold water, he couldn't get rid of the sleepiness, maybe a cup of coffee would do the trick. As he neared the kitchen, he heard rustling and your muffled voice, probably talking on the phone, he assumed. He neared the kitchen entrance with a smile, ready to greet you and his entire mood shifted.

Where Jesse normally sat on the kitchen table, when he would share his meals with you, was another man. Jesse's heart plummeted and it felt as it was being cut to pieces with a blunt butterknife, slow and painful. Maybe he was overreacting, but the way that stranger had moved the chair to be closer to you, the way his body was shifted close to yours, and the fucking way he was playing with your hands while you talked; it drove him over the edge. His chest heaved and he clutched the hem of his oversized graphic tee, trying to keep the little green monster growing inside him at bay.

You giggled at something the guy said to you and Jesse's chest constricted, only he got to make you laugh like that. At that moment, your gaze lifted up and connected with Jesse's, surprise painted on your features for just a couple of seconds, but you hid it with a smile. "Jesse, good morning. I made extra coffee for you." you pointed at the coffee maker.

"Mhm, morning," he mumbled under his breath. "Thanks." he tried a little louder, his voice coming out broken from the lack of use and all the pent up emotion that tightened around his throat.

"Andrew, this is my roommate I was telling you about." you turned your attention to the guy next to you. "Jesse, this is Andrew."

"Hi." Andrew greeted Jesse after a beat of silence. "You know," he chuckled dryly. "I thought your roommate would be a girl, to be honest." his laugh dying out as both you and Jesse remained silent, you only giving a polite smile in response and Jesse glared at how he was still holding your hand. He didn't even know this guy, if it was serious, surely he would know you were seeing somebody, so why was holding your hand as if you two were dating?

"Why, you'd feel less threatened?" Jesse grumbled coarsely. In turn, Andrew's smile fell in an instant, his lips pursing in an o shape as he tried to process Jesse's comment. Just as shocked at Jesse's sudden aggressiveness, you momentarily pushed your head back and frowned in surprise, your eyes holding a silent conversation with his, to which Jesse merely shrugged in response. Quietly, he grabbed his favorite mug - it was a Billy the Puppet mug you had gifted him on his birthday about a year ago - poured himself some coffee and left the kitchen without a word.

Once in the livng room, the TV came to life, Jesse flipping the channels mindlessly until he settled on some Seinfeld reruns. Ten minutes into the episode, he heard your voices approaching, yet he didn't turn his head to look as you bid Andrew farewell. Although, from the corner of his eye he was able to catch a glimpse of Andrew leaning down on your level and pecking you on the lips just as he was leaving. Jesse's top lip curled, the jealousy eating him up on the inside; that should've been him. And that chance was lost on him because he was a fucking coward, he had made his bed and now he had to lie in it. It's just that he hadn't expected it would hurt him so much and he was being unreasonably selfish for wishing things wouldn't work out between you two.

The TV screen went black, which earned you an angry scowl from Jesse. "Yo, I was watching that!" his tone raised.

"What was that?" you asked in the same tone, chucking the TV remote at his chest. Jesse's frown deepened, whispering a silent ow, while he rubbed the sore spot of impact.

"What was what?" Jesse asked indignantly, emphasizing his t's.

"Back then," you stated obviously. "In the kitchen?" you pointed at that direction, trying to get your point accross.

Jesse let out a sarcastic snort. "Just stated the obvious." he replied more calmly this time, his eyes locked in on yours.

"Well," your chest puffed out as you took in a deep breath, the motion catching Jesse's gaze, making his mind briefly wander off to somewhere else. "It was rude." To which Jesse merely scoffed at as a response.

Silence fell over both of you, the tension grew and a frown resurfaced on Jesse's features again. "Look, I-" he paused to clear his throat, also recollecting his thoughts in the meantime. "I'm sorry. I'll be nicer next time." If there will be one, Jesse wanted to add but he would be treading on thin ice after that.

"You seem to like him." he pointed out, taking in a few seconds to study your face, yet he couldn't really put a finger on the emotion painted on it, it almost gave off a vibe of uncertainty. "How long you two been goin' out?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Not long." you shrugged, tucking a strand behind your ear, then rubbing the base of your neck. That is your tell when you're nervous, Jesse noted silently to himself. "Third date was last night."

Ah. Jesse's brows rose momentarily, the corners of his lips turning down and h,e let out a soft hum. He was aware of what happened on the third date, however, he wasn't expecting for him to have slept over. Maybe it was growing more serious faster than he thought. The monster inside him grew, its angry green vines tightening around his heart, causing his brain to paint pictures of you and him tangled in between the sheets, touching you in places Jesse could only do so in a wet dream.

"Well, I hope it goes well." he lied through his teeth, topping it off with a smile, in hopes of sounding more sincere.

It had, much to Jesse's disappointed, but he tried to keep that to himself, save for the sneering looks he'd throw Andrew's way the times he'd show up at your guys' apartment. All the while, Jesse tried to keep his distance the following weeks, because to himself that was the best course of action, which was turning out to be a terrible idea. Because he wasn't a regular friend, and stepping down to that status seemed to be hurting him more than not being able to be your boyfriend. In the midst of it all, he was also hurting you, it was painted on your face every day. Mainly the reason why he'd be cooped up in his room on his free time, to avoid seeing the hurt look on your face.

Jesse was no stranger when it came to addiction, you were his vice. The most addictive drug he had ever been on; his highest highs, his lowest lows, and he was going through major withdrawal symptoms. Avoiding you like that was doing serious damage to his psyche. He was trying his damnest to detach himself from you. However, the harder he tried, the more he felt the urge to crawl into your bed, curl up against you, hold you tight until his body would mold into yours and the two of you would finally become one in the most literal sense.

Saturday morning had rolled, and Jesse having woken up first, made himself a cup of coffee. He had dragged his chair right next to the open kitchen window, blowing smoke from his cigarette outside - you hated it when he smoked it up inside the house, especially in the kitchen. After one long drag, he took a sip of coffee. Cigarettes and coffee, breakfast of champions, he thought and chuckled dryly to himself.

"Jesse, we've talked about this before." your voice sounded defeated.

"Cigarette's outside the house." he argued.

"Barely." you scoffed with a shake of your head, moving to open the hood fan to get rid of any lingering smells. No reply came from him, but him putting out his cigarette when he was barely finished with it, was enough of an answer for you.

After a quick inspection around the kitchen, you realized the sink was empty, no dirty dishes cluttering the basin, all counters and kitchen table empty, too. "No breakfast today?" you mused, unable to hide the sadness in your voice.

Jesse replied indifferently with a grunt. "Nah, fridge was empty."

Exasperated, you let out a huff through flared nostrils. "What's up with you?"

That question made Jesse stir in his seat. "Dunno what you mean." he replied with a curt jerk of his shoulders.

You move to stand near him, leaning forward to catch his avoidant gaze. "Jesse, we barely talk? And even when we do it feels as if it's done out of necessity. Also, you never," your tone increased and you followed with a pause, just for the added dramatics. "Ever, forget our weekend breakfasts." Jesse's silence fell heavy between the two of you, a disappointed scowl gracing your face. That's what upset Jesse even more, he'd rather have you be annoyed, angry at him, than disappointed. Anything. Anything but disappointed, because he feared that's when he would start losing you.

Torn at the turn of events, Jesse was beginning to second guess his method and it seemed he was left with the only option he had left. That, of course, was to come clean, which was much easier in theory.

"Don't you have like a date to go to?" Jesse asked, dismissing your previous comments entirely. His lips were formed in a tight line, he was unsure of why he was asking that, knowing the answer would hurt him.

"Actually... we broke up two days ago."

"Yeah? Why?" Jesse kept his head hung low, however he lifted his gaze to study you. There was a large hole at the hem of your shirt, it had once belonged to him and even used to be one of his favorites, up until one time it got snagged in the dryer. It had become your go to sleep attire from then on. Your finger kept tracing circles around the edges of the hole nervously.

"Don't know, I broke up with him. It felt as if something was missing."

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm good." your voice brightened a bit, the usual perk in your tone almost there. "He was more bummed than me, though." you grimaced and shrugged it off.

Jesse simply nodded in response, this time really lifting his head to properly look at you and he swore you looked as if there was something else lingering at the tip of your tongue, but you kept your lips sealed. Instead, you asked, "Wanna grab waffles?"

The drive back home was silent, the only sound in the car cabin was the occasional slurping of your lemon flavored slushy. Although, you had somewhat tried to maintain your weekend tradition, your shared breakfast seemed more forced than having a date with a guy your mom had set you up with. Without having realized you had just arrived home, Jesse had just pulled the handbrake up, the croaking of the lever breaking you out of your trance. On the way up the stairs, Jesse kept his pace up a few steps ahead of you, the soles of his Nikes screeching as they rubbed against the stairs. The flesh of your bottom lip was trapped beneath your teeth, the corners of your mouth also forming a harsh frown. A dull pain shot through you when you dug your teeth in deeper, while you tried to bury your frustration building up within. You were losing your best friend and worst part of it all was you didn't know why.

First thing Jesse did once he set foot in, was chuck his black beanie on the hallway stand, most of his sandy brown hair was sticking out in various places in a disheveled mess, while the ones closer to his face stuck on his skin, a shade darker and wet with sweat.

"Jesse."

"Jesse." you repeated sternly, not accepting his low grumble of a response.

"What?"

You bit your lip again, the frustration brewing in your stomach making you nauseous. "You tell me."

"There's nothing to tell." Jesse feigned confusion, again. He kicked off he shoes and trudged to the living room, plopping himself on the sofa, the old piece of furniture groaning beneath his weight. You followed in, only seconds after, each step growing more powerful as frustration turned into anger.

"Don't play dumb with me. Tell me what's going on." you demanded as you stopped to stand in front of him, between the couch and coffee table.

Jesse's forehead wrinkled in exasperation, his icy blues bore into you. Though, just for two seconds and they fell back on his lap.

"You've been avoiding me, and don't you dare," you pointed a finger at him just as his head snapped up, his mouth moving to say something, "Don't," you paused again, closing your eyes and exhaling, "Don't you dare deny it."

Jesse sat there stunned and accepted your outburst in silence, because he wasn't dumb to not know it was well deserved. Your eyes left his form and darted up to the ceiling, feeling the corners tickling with fresh, warm tears that threatened to spill. "I feel... I feel like I'm losing you. I'm losing us." you cried into the ceiling. "I'm losing us and it hurts."

"Yeah, well loving you hurts me more." Jesse snapped, jumping up to his feet. "Every day hurts because I'll always be your best friend, your-your r-roommate," he spat those words out as if they were poison. "It fucking hurts how you try and find happiness in other guys, yet it never works out. I-I could make it work out, but you won't give me a chance." he was yelling at this point, his neck red and strained while his voice ripped through.

Dumbstruck you stand there with your mouth agape, your mind in a state of delirium upon hearing Jesse's confession. Your stomach was doing somersaults and if you felt nauseous before, then now you definitely felt like throwing up. It seemed as if it was your body's natural response at that point.

"I want to be happy for you, I do. Call me selfish all you want, but I can't stand you looking happy in somebody else's arms - like that bitch, Andrew." Jesse spat his name.

"I wasn't." you whisper, and upon Jesse's silence you continue, "I wasn't happy with him, I mean. That's why I broke up with him; because in every thing he did, I kept searching for you in him and it was never going to work out." you confess, waiting for Jesse's response. His eyes darted left and right as he was trying to process your own confession.

He sized you up, lingering for a little longer on your lips. "So what does this mean?" he asked lowly, voice tired and hoarse.

"Just fucking kiss me, dumbass."

In light speed, his lips came crashing down on yours; teeth clashing and all. It was by no means what you would usually describe as a perfect kiss, though it was full of raw and pent up emotion, so much so that you were flying on cloud nine. With every move of his lips against yours, he unleashed the sea of emotions into you; that way he wasn't drowning anymore, that way he could finally stay afloat with you by his side.

"I love you too." you whisper softly against his lips, before pulling him in for another kiss, more gentle this time. You use your body to push his back down on the couch, landing with a loud thump. Automatically, your legs are on either side of his hips, your core nestled against his thigh when you opened up your legs to shift yourself to sit closer to him on his lap. Your hands held on his cheeks while you moved to kiss every inch of his face, your thumbs caressing loving shapes on his skin. Settling with a ghost of a kiss on the corner of his lips, you move to nuzzle your nose against his, your foreheads touching.

"I want you, so bad." his hot breath fanned against your face, it tickled your lips and you closed the gap between you to satisfy the itch. Slowly, but surely, you felt yourself melting into him with each passing second, with each swipe of his curious tongue against yours. Jesse's kisses were like a drug, and now that you had finally had your first taste, you were already hooked. His cheeks burned hot beneath your palms, also loving the contrast of the soft skin on his cheekbones, with the roughness of his four day stubble. Reluctantly, you moved your hands away from his face, resting them on his shoulders, massaging them and moving to do the same on his chest and then back up.

Meanwhile, Jesse's hands were on your lower back, too hesitant to move down to squeeze the slopes of your ass. "I want you to touch me."

Jesse groaned, his hands immediately taking heed of your command. While his hands were preoccupied, he moved down to attack your neck with a trail of blazing kisses, stopping once he had found that sweet spot that had you writhing on his lap, where it turned into biting and sucking on supple skin, selfishly branding your skin purple. All the while, your hands slowly crept down his abdomen and up his shirt, memorizing how every inch of him felt. Thinking that it would be easier to do so without a shirt on, your hands found their way on his hoodie, peeling it off his shoulders. Jesse abandoned his post on your neck for a few seconds, so he could pull his t-shirt off his head, his upper body completely bare; he was all lean muscle.

"Take off yours too." he mumbled, his hungry mouth attatched to your neck once more.

"Mhm, no." you giggled as he playfully bit you.

"Not fair, mine's off." Jesse complained. His deep, gravelly voice rumbled against your skin, causing electrifying bursts of pleasure to vibrate thoughout your entire body. His hands were off your ass, already hitching your sweater up, his nimble fingers moving up to trace the outline of your unclad breasts. "Shit, no bra?" he bit his lip and broke into a wolfish grin, making heat rise all the way up to the tips of your ears.

Your hands abandoned their resting place on his chest and moved above your head. Jesse lowered his head, but his big blue eyes stared up at you his pupils blown out from all the love and deep want he held for you. Ever so tantalizingly slow, he pulled your sweater up inch by inch, placing hot open mouth kisses on each inch of skin slowly revealed. Once the garment was fully off your head and on the living room floor somewhere, he buried his face in the valley of your breasts, his nose rubbing against the mounts of flesh, as he took a hardened nipple in his mouth.

Not once did his eyes leave yours, his powerful gaze along with his gentle assault on your nub had you moaning and clenching around nothing. His lips curled around your nipple sucking it even further into his mouth, all the while his tongue curled around it. The pent up need and desire was accumulating in your chest and it felt like a nuclear reactor about to go off. Jesse moved to pull back from your breast, only after softly biting and grazing his teeth on your soft flesh, causing you to take in broken breaths.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" he said and rested his chin on your chest. His eyes were wide open, literally and figuratively, so open he was allowing you to look in to all those feelings he had tried to keep hidden; for the first time in years he had the chance to be really open with you without any fear whatsoever. At a loss for words, you simply pulled him in for a searing kiss, fingers coming up to tangle at the roots at the back of his head, his own mimicking your actions. Too lost in the moment, you started grinding down on him, feeling him harden through his baggy sweats.

"Let me help you with that, hm?" you whispered hotly in his ear, biting on his earlobe and tugging harshly, earning a shocked moan from him. You pulled back just in time to see his face flushing a beet red and you smiled smugly. You took your own sweet time as you slid off his lap, not wasting any second to leave his chest and abs unattended, making sure his skin was marked. Teasingly, you halted for a moment, your lips hovering over his clothed length for a couple of seconds before you made contact with him, mouthing his cock over the cotton fabric of his sweats. His thighs had now replaced his shoulders as your resting place, and you made sure you massaged him as your curious hands worked through their ascent towards his waistline. Immediately, your fingers hooked around the elastic bands of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down with a swift movement; Jesse slightly moving his hips upwards to assist you.

His hardened cock sprang free and you took a moment to drink in the sight of him, all spread out on the couch, flushed and naked. Your thighs rubbed together, the heat in your core increasing just by looking at him. Wanting to savor this moment, you started slowly kissing your way up his inner thighs, until the tip of your nose bumped against his balls. Teasingly, you took one in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. A strained curse was heard above you and you lifted your eyes to see that Jesse's were shut, his face contorted in pleasure. Your hand was wrapped around his shaft, idly moving up and down in a circular motion, coming all the way to his tip to collect the bead of precum, and rubbing it all along his length as you stroked your way back down. Your mouth found its way on his other ball, repeating the same rolling action with your tongue, before moving to put both in your mouth.

With a lewd sound, you pulled away, a string of drool connecting his balls and your mouth. Collecting more spit, you spat on his tip and slathered his girth with it. You took a moment to examine the sight in front of you, moving to lock gazes with Jesse, both of you looking at each other with lust blown eyes. Biting your lip, you teased your way to his tip, beginning to suckle on it gently. After a few seconds of only paying attention to his head, Jesse was growing impatient, trying to thrust himself further into your mouth, "Fuck, you're killing me." he let out a high pitched whimper.

Almost sorry for teasing him, you bob your head up and down, easing him on gently against your tongue, allowing your jaw to get used to his size as you took him deeper, inch by inch. Finally, with a low hum your nose bumped against his pelvis the moment you took him all in. You'd never been so full. Pulling away for a much needed breath of air, you returned to the task ahead of you, with much more vigor, suppressing your gags as you rhythmically bobbed your head up and down his shaft; making sure to hollow out your cheeks for extra suction.

Jesse was a whimpering mess and his sounds took you back to that day you had overheard him pleasuring himself, the memories of that day fueling the fire burning within you. Your own moans vibrated against his cock, making his whimpering moans grow in volume. The wet patch on your underwear just reminded you of how much you also longed for his touch, but you kept on gowing until you felt your jaw numbing, only then did you pull away.

Your lips urgently met his in a frantic, yet passionate kiss. "I want to feel your lips on mine." you whispered lowly.

For a second, that left Jesse confused, given how he was just kissing you, until realization finally clicked and he immediately sprang to action. Your positions were now reversed, helping Jesse unbutton your jeans as his trembling hands struggled. "I'm sorry, I'm a little nervous." he apologized, seemingly embarrassed.

"Me too." you reassured, unzipping your pants and letting them peel your jeans off of you; the pair of pants meeting its fate on the floor along with all the other discarded items of clothing. You were left in just some old pink cotton hipster briefs; your choice of underwear clearly showing that you hadn't been expecting this turn of events. Though, to Jesse you still looked hot, hell, he'd think the same if you even wore a sack of potatoes. He gulped loudly, his eyes transfixed on the large wet spot in the middle of your undies; God, you were soaked.

Unlike you, he skipped the teasing entirely, diving straight into work, ripping your panties off of you and delving into your pussy. He was eating you like a man starved, nose buried up all up in your pussy, constricting his airflow, but he didn't care, he was ready to suffocate. Just then, he made it his life's mission; to die nose deep in your needy pussy, the thought bringing him utter bliss. With just one taste of you, he was already drunk on your taste.

He hummed against your center, his tongue moving in circles around your swollen clit in a steady motion that was bringing you closer and closer to seeing stars. Breaking away for a much needed breath of air, he angled your hips forward closer to the edge, throwing your legs up wide and open. He kneeled a bit further, taking a mental picture of the sight in front of him. "I'll never get tired of seeing this." he moaned, angling himself lower to proceed on pleasuring you. His tongue lapped up all your juices and slid in and out of you; your soft muscles tightening around him. You glanced down on him, noticing how his right arm was moving up and down stroking himself while he ate you out. His voice vibrated against you in a low moan, and you felt your thighs quake as you were nearing to the edge.

"Please, I need you." you begged, tugging at his hair in a motion for him to stop. Funnily, Jesse seemed to be more disappointed than you, not being able to get you off at least once before he was inside you, but if you were so willing to forgo that part, then he didn't mind; anything to keep you happy.

Soon enough, Jesse found himself sitting on the couch once more with you straddling his lap. Your hand moved in between you, grabbing on the base of his dick, angling his tip right at your entrance. Given how wet you were, you sank down on him with ease, and you sat unmoving for a few seconds relishing in the way he filled you up just right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Jesse's hands found their way on the flesh of your ass, squeezing you lightly and moving to grind your hips against his in a motion for you to start moving. With no further need for instructions, your hips began rocking up and down in a familiar motion on his length.

Jesse's right arm snaked around your waist, holding you down and pulling you in, flush against his chest, while his other hand moved to cup the side of your face to bring you in for a kiss. It was the gentlest kiss you'd exchanged thus far, his lips slow and deliberate against yours. You moaned against his lips, your clit occasioanlly rubbing against his pelvis, each time you gound your hips as you came down on his cock, causing your walls to tighten around him as you were a few steps away from nearing your release. Jesse was too, given how he couldn't contain his moans and whimpers, accompanied by a series of praise for you.

"You ride me so well, baby." Baby, such an ordinary word, yet it had you reeling with a flurry of emotions. You didn't mind though, in fact you should get used to that now.

Your ass slapped against his thighs rhythmically, the set pace quickening with each descent.

"Oh, God baby, I'm so close." you whined and pressed your forehead against his. You stopped going up and down and started to grind your hips against his, seeking the much needed friction on your clit to bring you over the edge.

"Let it out for me, let it all out." Jesse whispered before he pulled you in for yet another kiss. Angry red scratches marked his chest and you dug them even deeper once your hips stalled their movement. Your orgasm ripped though you in a hot white flash and your thighs trembled with pleasure.

Not given even a second to recollect yourself, Jesse gripped your hips so hard they would be bruised tomorrow. Angling you a bit higher, his hips began pounding into you in a fervent pace. Your hands steadied themselves around his neck, your fingers locked in around the roots of his hair. They were a bit sweaty, but so were yours and you truly didn't mind. All you cared about at that moment was to get to see him come. His breath came out in broken gasps, mingled in with some moans here and there and beads of sweat collected on the corners of his brows. Overstimulated from your previous orgasm, you felt your walls tighten around him once more, a telltale sign of the fire igniting within you once more.

One of his hands left your hip and moved up to brush away loose stands that were sticking to your sweaty forehead, his touch featherlight and sweet, in contrast to the way he was fucking into you like a madman. "I'm gonna come." he groaned.

So lost in bliss, all you could do was nod. His pelvic bone was hitting against your clit, just the right way for you to clench around him and come undone once more. You came so hard your breath was knocked over and you felt like passing out. Jesse hissed, your cunt still pulsed around him and it sent him over the edge with a groan. His already tight grip tightened even more the moment he spilled into you, coating your walls white with his cum. After a few seconds, his moans died out and his head slumped back on the couch and looked up to the ceiling. "Shit that was..."

"That was amazing." you both spoke at the same time and broke into a smile.

You were still on him, he was still in you and if it weren't for his cum dripping out as his cock softened you would've stayed like that a little longer. However, afraid to make a mess, Jesse got up to grab a clean washcloth you wipe you both clean. Once you were both all wiped up, you laid down on the couch in a tangled mess of naked limbs.

Both of you remained quiet, there was no need to say anything for the moment was perfect as it was; you on his chest, hearing the steady drum of his heart, him drawing soothing patterns on your back. Seconds after, though it was Jesse who broke the silence as a thought occured to him.

"Whose room are we gonna sleep now?"

tags: @madzzz0797 @nika-sophie05

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman smut #jesse pinkman angst #jesse pinkman fluff #breaking bad #smut

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sameschmidtdiffname · 8 months ago

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MIKE SMUT SMTH ABT HIS THIGHS AND HE S ALSO SUBBY PLSSSSS

DAAAAAAAAAARLIIIIIIIIIIING!

GUESS WHO JUST BROKE THEIR TWO WEEK BREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK!

Pretty

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Men are so pretty. And they can be so stupid. And who doesn't like stupid, pretty toys?

Tags: No specified sex for Reader, Reader is referred to with a male title at one point for sexual purposes (which one I won't say, but it's not daddy! I will say that), otherwise no gendered pronouns used for Reader, sub! Mike, dom! Reader, dynamic switch, accidental kink reveal, thigh admiration (this was not as focused on thighs as I intended, honestly. I'm sorry lmao), Mike gets used like a BITCH, and I mean a BITCH. Bro gets DOGGED, bro gets USED, bro may be PREGNANT after this (he ain't, no mpreg, I'm just being funny), humping, biting, french kissing, marking, choking, just have fun with this. It's a treat for all!

Notes: I'M STILL ON A BREAK! BUT, you guys have been so sweet and so nice. So, a drabble, because I love you all and you deserve it <3

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I've always admired hands.

Strong hands, working hands. One of the first things I look for in men is if their hands look like they're capable of long lasting, almost back breaking labor.

The second thing I look for is shoulders. Preferably broad, capable of holding the third thing I look for. Which would be

Thighs.

I don't even have a particular taste for what those look like. The desire doesn't lie within the looks, although I could certainly spend a fair amount of my time stealing glances towards a fine, large pair. Straining against the material of their pants, spread out over a chair, doubling in size once someone sits. No, the desire lies in how sensitive they seem to be. Just a ghostly touch of your hands or lips upon the soft skin can usually send someone reeling. Can make someone sing such a soft, quiet note so raw and genuine before you've even drawn near to the area they want you the most.

I should've touched him sooner like this.

Mike Schmidt doesn't pretend to be a macho man. He's not insecure of his masculinity, he raises his little sister, goes to work, comes to bed. He doesn't have time to worry about being a man's man.

I can attest, however. Once in the bedroom, he has absolutely no issue with expressing his masculinity.

In any way, shape or form.

"Touch me," he moans breathily, bucking his fully clothed hips towards me in a desperate, needing manner.

I never said masculinity involves domination.

It'd just started with us cuddling on the couch. Abby out at a friend's, us snuggled under a warm blanket at home on the couch. The comforter to his bed, to be specific. Everything else was too small or too cold for us, so we just dragged it out. The old TV in front of us displaying a rerun of a movie we were only halfway paying attention to, both of us beginning to drift in and out of sleep. Mike had wrapped me under his arm, placing a soft kiss on my forehead every now and then when he decided it'd been too long since he last had. I was pressed against his side, one hand on his thigh, absentmindedly rubbing circles.

Here's the fun thing about guys. Half the time they are so touch starved, it takes nothing to get them going. And that's fun.

I didn't realize why Mike was beginning to shift in his seat some. Why his heartbeat against my ear had picked up, why his breathing was getting somewhat shaky. Tell tale signs of something, but honestly I figured it was the movie. It wasn't until he pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead, then trailed down to my cheek, my jaw, and began nipping at my neck that it began to dawn on me.

"What's got you in a mood?" I chuckled, my fingers digging I just a little more to his warm, covered flesh.

"Nothing," he said breathily in my ear, his tongue beginning to trace my jawline. "Just thought you looked pretty."

I call his bluff when I dig into a tense muscle, a loud, pathetic moan escaping him that he tries to quickly stiffle in my neck. Moaning and biting at me, his hand beginning to search my chest to graze his fingers against my sensitive nipples, easy to play with under the smooth material of Mike's stolen, cotton shirt.

"Ah," I say, continuing to rub as he pants eagerly against me. "I see."

Mike's trying to maneuver us so that he can position himself on top of me, and regularly I would agree, but I'm not quite done with my new toy just yet.

"Let me up," I say into his ear, trying to pull away. Mike simply moans into my skin, biting harder as his fingers finally wrap around my already stiff nipple, tugging at it, making me moan in harmony to him. "Mike," I say, trying to ground us both.

Mike doesn't care, his other hand searching for my thighs, knowing how much I like for mine to be played with before he spends hours between my legs, gasping, choking, and grinning ear to ear with pride after swallowing whatever amount of cum I'd given him. His teeth sink into my neck again, this time not just playful. Digging in and making me cry out in slight pain, yet pleasure coursing through me as my eyes roll back into my head.

"So pretty," Mike moans against me, his voice soft and high. His lashes flutter butterfly kisses against my forming bruises while his lips trail to my collarbone, his stiff cock brushing against my hand as he shifts.

This is what settles the idea in my mind.

My hand snaps up, pulling harshly at Mike's dark, almost black curls, tugging until his head had snapped all the way backwards, exposing the tan skin of his throat to me. Eagerly, I lick a long, wide stripe up his throat, from bottom to top until I can clearly feel the prickly stubble of his facial hair on my tongue. His adams apple bobs under the wet muscle as he moans openly, a moan that only increases in volume and pitch once I bite roughly into the side of his neck, not allowing him a chance to escape as I keep my tight grip on his curls.

"Fu-ck," he drawls, his voice breaking as he begins to allow me to guide him to my desires, laying him on his back against the worn down couch, his hips subconsciously rolling towards me in anxiety for my touch.

"So pretty," I breathe in his ear, a soft whimper escaping him as his blush deepens, accenting the subtle freckles that decorate his skin like the stars decorate the night sky. I've tried to kiss each one, knowing the task was futile, but was well rewarded by the puddle of mush he'd dissolved into as my lips had trailed against his tan skin. Mike tries to turn his face away from me to hide the blush, unsure of how else to handle the compliment.

God, I love men. They're idiots.

I grab his jaw, forcing his mouth open and adoring the pathetic whine that escapes him as I shove my tongue into his mouth, his eyes half open, watching me as he gives in to the kiss, his hands tugging at my shirt as he humps against nothing, pent up and stupid underneath of me.

They're so cute, right?

When I pull away, a long string of spit still connects us, his eyes obediently trained on me as I pin him down against the couch by his throat, anticipating my next move. I move myself to tower over him, his mouth still open as he pants, and I spit into his mouth. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't complain. Hell, by the glint in his eyes, you'd think he'd thank me. Though he doesn't.

It's fine. He will soon enough.

I lower myself along his body, my hands once more finding his thick thighs and squeezing them, admiring the firmness underneath of his shorts.

"Have I told you I love your thighs?" I ask, my breath fanning against his covered erection. Mike simply moans.

"I do. Watch them all the time. Don't even realize I'm doing it, honestly," I say. I lean down, placing a feather light kiss on his hip. He whines. "They're so pretty. Just like the rest of you."

His hips buck towards me, his cock obviously twitching underneath the material.

"Touch me," he moans, his face pink and halfway covered with his hand. I reach up and grab his hand away, smacking swiftly at his thigh.

"Be good," I snap, earning me a sharp gasp as he writhes underneath of me, mumbling some sort of agreement.

"Good," I praise softly. "Good. See, that wasn't so hard."

My lips start at his knee, kissing there and beginning to work their way up as he clasps his hands above his head, teeth gritted in an attempt to stay quiet.

"You can moan," I tell him, my other hand slipping underneath the pant legs of his shorts. "I like the pretty sounds you make."

Pretty. I didn't know that was his trick word. The word that could force him into a pathetic, begging mess that can't even keep eye contact. Oh, he's beautiful. Bite marks blooming against his skin, such a deep blush, tossled curls. His soft abdomen shutters with each unsteady breath, slightly exposed, his happy trail dark against his skin and leading to the place that shows how he wants me. His tongue darting out to lick his lips so often they'll be chapped by the end of the night from overstimulation. That's his tell that he's close.

"What, pretty boy gonna cum in his pants?" I ask, my hand trailing along his hot skin and digging my nails in to make him sing. His back arches slightly, eyes trained on the ceiling as his mouth opens in an almost silent gasp.

"No," he clearly lies, his hips subtly moving of their own accord.

"You look like such a pretty mess!" I chuckle against his skin, pressing a soft kiss on his lower thigh. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

He doesn't respond to this, clearly lost in his thoughts.

"Michael," I say, voice slightly firm. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

Mike rolls his eyes, huffing and not obeying. Aw. Cute.

My hands grip underneath of his knees, quickly shoving them to meet his shoulders, eyes wide as he gasps at the maneuver he's done to me so many times I can't even count. Shoved into a mating press, I grind my hips against him, pounding against him quickly and harshly, relishing the broken sounds he makes as I hump him hard enough his head is bouncing against the arm of the couch, his eyes fluttering shut as they roll into the back of his head.

"It's a simple request," I hiss against his skin, rewarded with a loud moan. "I didn't ask for your fuckin' attitude."

The glint in his eyes when they open unintentionally shows he's fine with this response, happy to take more and more until he really does cum with hardly any stimulation to his cock. His mouth is open, tongue peaking out from behind his bottom teeth, his breathing on the cusp of hyperventilating as he submits to my touch.

"Is it so hard?" I ask, keeping even time with my abusive pace. "To just listen to me?"

"No, sir," Mike moans happily.

Oh?

"What was that?" I ask, leaning closer as I shove his knees harder against his shoulders. His eyes snap open, dead ahead on the ceiling as his mind clearly tries to process what to say next.

"Nothing," he says quickly.

"Bullshit," I snap, adjusting my grip so one arm pins his knees so that my hand can snake down between us and smack at his ass in scolding. "Repeat yourself."

"I don't know what I said," he says quickly, avoiding eye contact.

I smack again, this time hard enough he cries out.

"Say it," I seethe, increasing my tempo and pounding harder against him until he looks like he may cry, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth open as he pants like a whore underneath of me.

"Sir," he finally admits, shame burning bright in his cheeks. "I called you sir."

I toss his legs onto my shoulders, my hand now finding his throat as I hump him into the bed, rewarding his honestly.

"I see," I drawl, not relenting my pace nor strength. "Someone's into getting used."

This seems to roll him over the edge, his face bright and relaxing as his eyes flutter shut, only for me to bite at his bottom lip, causing them to open again.

"Watch me," I command, biting harshly into his lip. "I wanna see how pretty you look when you cum like a good toy."

His eyes widen slightly, his mouth slack as he obeys. The moment I release his lip his tongue darts out to wet it, lingering over the soft bite marks.

"It's alright, you can do it," I say softly, choking him slightly harder. "Let me watch, then I'll let you fuck me however you want."

His eyes are pleading, begging for more.

"You want something? Use your words," I tell him, slamming particularly hard this time, hard enough his head slams into the couch concerningly. But he doesn't mind, does he?

"Kiss me," he breathes, so light, the request sounds innocent and sweet compared to the way I'm abusing him on his own couch. I comply, pressing my lips against his in a soft, sweet kiss that he whines into, his lips parting and tongue slipping against my lips in a sloppy, pleading, silent request. And how can I say no?

I part my lips for him, enjoying the way he arches into the kiss, moaning as our tongues slide together in a messy, graceless fight for control. My lips trap the tip of his tongue, sucking on it and tugging it upwards harshly as he cries out, his hips beating against mine as his lashes flutter shut once more, but this time I don't scold him. I simply grind against him as hard and as fast as my tiring body will allow, guiding him through his overwhelming orgasm, the sounds of his crystal clear moans cutting through the air, perfectly complimenting his red face, glistening eyes and shaking body.

"That's it," I coo in his ear. "That's a good toy. Just let me fuck you."

He's stupid and lost to the world, his cock twitching pathetically as thick ropes of cum decorate the inside of his shorts, making the material stick to his skin, overstimulating him as I begin to lessen my pace, beginning to give him grace he no longer has words to ask for.

"So pretty," I whisper as I try to kiss each tiny freckle on his beet red nose, his breath hot against my throat as he tries to regain his focus. "So pretty, and mine."

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Mike slurs stupidly underneath of me, his legs still trembling on my shoulders.

I giggle, smiling as I lean down to place another kiss, sweet this time, against Mike's swollen, glossy lips.

"I dunno," I say, shrugging. Mike whimpers as I pull away.

"Guess I just thought you were pretty."

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I'm 100% gonna be late for work because of this, but worth it

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

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anotherghoul666 · 2 years ago

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i JUST started listening to sleep token and went to the tag only to find you there, please tell me more about this band?? collective?? i need more

You got it buddy! One order of a full Sleep Token beginner primer, coming up!

Sleep Token are a rock? metal? genre blending collective based out of England, tho nobody's 100% sure of where the members are from because they are also a masked and anonymous project. Their style of music varies greatly from album to album and song to song. From soft ballads, to electronic music, to indie, to progressive / prog metal, to post-rock / post-metal, and now with their newest singles, a definite shift into heavier sounds with roots in djent and -core genre elements like breakdowns and scream vocals, let's just say they are very diverse and there are not many bands that sound the same out there. Their blending is pretty unique, and imo will prove to be genre-defining in the coming years. They are signed to Spinefarm records and they're touring as we speak in Europe.

They formed in 2016 and self-released their first EP called One that same year. Their second EP aptly called Two was released in 2017 on Basick. They currently have two full length albums out on Spinefarm, 2019's Sundowning and 2021's This Place Will Become Your Tomb, which are the crux of the material you wanna look into. I always advise that you listen to the whole albums front to back because artists plan these tracklists deliberately, so we owe it to them to consume their output the way they intended us to, but! I also realize nowadays nobody does that because of Spotify and streaming, unfortunately, so: for Sundowning, I'd recommend Sugar as a first track because it touches on both the soft and harsh sides of the album beautifully; and for TPWBYT I'd say start with Alkaline (bonus points for a delicious video to get you into their visual side too). On January 6th and 7th 2023, they released two new songs to showcase their new sound, Chokehold and The Summoning. These two singles seem to be the optimal path currently to get into the band. There are rumors of a new album called Take Me Back To Eden to be released this year, there's a tracklist floating around online though we don't know if its legit, and there are also rumors for new singles coming out, at the time of writing this, tomorrow and in two days, on the 19th and 20th of January 2023. There's also a recording of an acoustic show called From The Room Below floating online, with new takes on their previous songs and a few choice covers like Billie Eilish's When The Party's Over, surprising crossovers that are emotional experiences.

Now, visually and in theme, you'll notice the band has a storyline of sorts. The lore of Sleep Token is this: the band was formed after an ancient deity called Sleep (a reductive name that doesn't encompass the deity's nature at all, but its true name cannot be spoken in any human tongue) revealed itself to the singer, Vessel, in his sleep. Sleep appears to be a powerful force worshiped in ancient civilizations, that gave them the blessing of dreams and the curse of nightmares. Since this apparition, Vessel's life purpose has been to worship and make offerings to Sleep via music. The members of the band are all called vessels, we can infer vessels for Sleep. The singer is Vessel I, but the fandom's moved to just calling him Vessel. The other members are just called by their numbers. II is on drums, III is on bass, IV is on guitar. They're all vessels. They wear masks to hide their identities, with what seems to be full body black paint and some variety of stage costumes including hooded coats and capes and now apparently full pauldrons and void wizard staves.

You'll come across some specific lingo when encountering Sleep Token content or in the fandom. These terms mostly come from their official social media so they use them themselves, it's not fan made. "Worship" is the tagline, kinda like "Nema" is with Ghost. You'll see fans telling each other that all the time. To Worship is to take part in enjoying the band in any way you can: listening to the music, watching videos, streaming their stuff, spreading the word, going to shows, buying merch, etc. Sleep Token's shows are called Rituals, like Ghost's. Pictures and videos are referred to as Sacred Moments, or Sacred Moments in Time. The bands they tour with are called Brethren. Sleep Token's songs are called Offerings. Because they are written as a means to Worship the Sleep deity. Offerings can also be in the form of instrument playthroughs, videos, etc. What the band produces. When you listened to new material or acquire merch, you also Consume. A note on their anonymity to finish: while there are rumors about who the band members are, nothing's confirmed and the band's explicit wish is to maintain this anonymity, so it fundamental to respect those wishes and not try to dig. They value art for art, they let the music speak for itself, and they explicitely wish for their music to be detached from who they are as people. Let's leave the magic in place both for them and for us!

Welcome to the fold! Worship!

#sleep token

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kingofbodyrolls · 10 months ago

Text

Sprout | knj | four (fin)

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

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

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader

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

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: explicit

Word count: 8.2K

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

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

Author’s note(1): time for smut!!!! 😝

Taglist: @svnbangtansworld

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I taste you?”

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on. They're cute.”

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

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

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

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

“Ahhh–”

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

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

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

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

Then he pulls off, “You like that?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“N-Namjoon…”

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

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

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

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

“You taste so sweet.”

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

“Dammit, Namjoon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With this tent in your pants?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please let me suck your dick.”

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

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

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

“Good girl. Then suck it.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

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

“Ah, fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re doing so good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. I’m so close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it when I grope your ass?”

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

“Yes, Joon.”

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

“Fuck! You’re so big, ugh!”

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

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

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

“Fuck, yeah. Please fuck me Joon.”

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

“Ahhh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit— I'm close!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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smoooothoperator · 3 months ago

Text

What Was I Made For?

19: Melodrama

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: Melanie.

a/n: Welcome back!!!! Don't get used to have chapter too frecuently because next week I'll start the opera season... Anyway!! Hope you like the chapter

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Melanie Cooper.

It all started when I installed Raya more than a year ago.

I wasn't doing it consciously, it happened one night I was at a party. I was bored and making a profile was faster than I thought , and soon I started swiping to the left and right, getting matches and ignoring them immediately.

I didn't notice that everyone I gave a like looked like Dafne. Brunette and blue eyes. I was in denial, not wanting to accept that I actually still had feelings for her. That night, I was too drunk, watching how Dafne came with her boyfriend to the FIA gala of 2023.

Melanie wasn't the first, but she was definitely the last.

I talked for the first time with Melanie in the summer of 2024. I needed someone to spend my summer break with, to keep my mind busy and forget about cars and Dafne. I needed to keep myself busy between the legs of someone else.

Looking back, I realize how immature it was, trying to fill the whole with someone else, anyone else.

When I first met Melanie in the summer of 2024, she seemed like the perfect distraction. We started spending more time together, especially when I learned she also lived in Monaco. But what began as a casual fling quickly turned into something that consumed my daily life.

I bought her things whenever she asked me, ignoring that voice in the back of my head warning me about what I was doing.

I saw her taking pictures of me. Posting pictures with me. Recording videos near me. And I always ignored it.

I only wanted her to forget Dafne.

Until everything exploded in my face.

The moment Melanie and Dafne met, I couldn't handle things anymore. In that moment, I opened my eyes and saw how reality was going.

I started noticing the extravagant gifts Melanie would request. My family’s disapproval grew louder with every visit, their cold stares and whispered remarks impossible to ignore. And then there were the little things, like how Melanie, somehow, began wearing the same perfume Dafne used or how she tried to mimic Dafne’s laugh. It was unsettling, to say the least.

I started to see the truth. I accepted my feelings.

But then, that day happened. And everything went down.

Instead of ending things with her, I brought her to a race. Instead of asking her to stay in the hotel while I went to dinner with my family and Dafne's, I let her come. Instead of going to my room where Melanie was, I went to Dafne's.

I had heard rumors about Melanie seeing other men, but I pushed them aside, pretending not to care. I was too caught up in my own denial to face the truth. But the morning I saw her with a random guy in the bed of my room, it made my blood boil.

But what made me hate her was when I saw her placing my phone on the table and watching how she used it. She found out my passcode. She looked at my phone. She wrote a text pretending to be me.

That moment, when I saw the text messages, I knew that I made a big mistake that night of 2023.

f1_gossip

liked by 19.261

f1_gossip Oh, oh! Do you guys remember her? She was Charles Leclerc’s “girlfriend” during summer break and the first races after the break. The first time she was seen with him was on Monza.

Melanie Cooper, 25 years old, is a British influencer of TikTok. She recently posted an announcement revealing that Charles and her broke up during the winter break because she discovered that he cheated on her with Dafne. But the most shocking thing she confessed is that she is pregnant, and with his baby!

But… Is it true? The last time she was seen with Charles was exactly the first time she was in the paddock, in Monza. And after that, she disappeared, and Charles stopped following her on Instagram. Charles wasn't seen with another girl.

And on the other side, Dafne dated the actor Sebastian Stan for some months before she ended things in December.

What do you guys think about this? We read you!

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fewawifan Charles on his playboy era was the worst thing that could ever happen… Who knows how many girls he knocked up

dafneismymom I hope Dafne is okay, she doesn't deserve this…

melanieclothes they are made for each other. Two cheaters. dafneismymom melanieclothes no one asked your opinion. You follow a gold digger melanieclothes and you don't?

sharlperceval I went to the Monza GP and Melanie only wanted his money… I saw her grabbing his phone countless times, probably buying herself things.

Everything around me started to disappear.

It felt like my life was collapsing, piece by piece, as if every hard-won victory was crumbling before my eyes.

The moment Melanie walked in, with her hand holding her belly, I felt the first card falling. Then, when she said that the baby was mine, I felt another two. But the moment Dafne looked at me, with panic and confusion in her eyes, I felt the whole castle falling.

The world went silent. All I could see was Dafne, limp in my arms, and Melanie’s menacing figure over us.

“What the hell do you want?” I frowned, holding Dafne close to my chest, kneeling on the ground and looking up at Melanie.

“What do I want?” she laughed. “You know what's funny, Charles? Your so-called girlfriend humiliated me, she talked shit about me!”

“So what, does that give you any right to come here and lie? To hurt my family?” I frowned. “How do you even know where we were?”

She laughed, her hand never left her belly. Our friends and family were quiet. Dafne's sisters were kneeling next to her, holding her hand and trying to wake her up. But Melanie… That smile and gaze was giving me shivers.

“You are not as subtle as you think you are” she laughed. “Your location was on my phone, and let's not talk about all those times you talked shit about her family and how you used to spend summer in this place…”

“Don't” I groaned. “Stop fucking lying. She's lying!”

I looked around, swallowing thickly. How my mother looks at me, how her parents look at me. Disappointed.

“Are you even pregnant?” Erica frowned.

“What? Of course I am!” she exclaimed with a high pitched voice, holding her belly tight.

I looked at her, swallowing thickly. I slept with her, maybe too many times that I would like to admit. But it was always with protection.

“Is it even mine?” I frowned. “You were the one who cheated on me, Melanie”

“Me?!” she gasped, looking at my friends and then at me again. “How dare you?! I was loyal to you! I loved you!”

“Don't make me laugh” I frowned. “You were the one that used me, that spent my money. You stole my phone to write a text for me! An important text!”

“I did you a favor!” she exclaimed, ironically.

“You ruined me!” I screamed, not noticing Dafne waking up, moving in my arms. “Because of you I was demanded. Because of you, my own team lost respect towards me. Because of you, I lost myself”

She clenched her fists, looking at me.

“You were never meant to be anything more,” I said, my voice breaking. “I used you to escape my own misery, to forget Dafne. But you turned that into something twisted, something that only drained me.”

“Charles…”

I flinched when I heard Dafne's weak voice, and the only thing I could do was hold her tighter, not wanting her to get hurt, not wanting Melanie to touch her.

“I want a parental test” I frowned, looking at Melanie. “Because I highly doubt that the baby you are carrying is mine. Probably is from one of the many guys you slept with while you were stealing my money”

“It's yours” Melanie groaned. “It's yours! It's your baby!”

“Leave. Now” I whispered, my voice trembling as I cradled Dafne closer. I finally met Melanie’s gaze, cold and unyielding. “You’re not welcome here, not near my family.”

I saw Violet and Kika walking towards her, making sure she got away and back to her car. Meanwhile, the rest of our friends stayed there in silence.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, tucking away the hair from Dafne's face. “I'm sorry. This… This is not fair”

“Is it true?” Her voice was barely audible, a fragile thread of hope or despair.

“It’s not mine,” I whispered, desperate to convince her, to hold onto the life we had planned. “Please, Dafne, you have to believe me.

She didn't say anything, only looked around and tried to get up with her sister's help, completely ignoring me and avoiding my eyes.

“Thank you all for coming” she said, smiling weakly to our friends and family. “I… I think I need to rest. Eh… Yeah. It was so lovely having you here”

I saw her walk away, in silence, with her hand on her belly. I tried to follow her, to hold her hand and see if she was alright, but my feet felt like they were glued to the ground.

“I…” I swallowed thickly, looking at my mother and brothers, at Pierre.

“I know you, Charles” Pierre sighed. “I…”

“Please, you have to believe me” I whisper, begging. “That kid is not mine. Melanie, she…”

“It's fake” Violet said, walking towards Lando and hugging him. “I'm pretty sure it's a fake belly. She was holding it all the time, like not wanting it to fall or whatever. And when she got in her car it moved higher”

“You believe me?” I mumble, feeling a lump on my throat.

“I do” Kika nodded. “I saw that too. I started suspecting it when she never pulled her hand away from her belly. And if she was pregnant, she should be at least a month more than Dafne. And it doesn't look that big”

“Then you should pressure her with the parental test” my brother Lorenzo sighed. “I don't know what happened between you, but she still wants more from you. Pressure her, and then set a lawsuit”

I swallowed thickly and nodded, looking at the house. Dafne's room has the light on, she's probably there, getting ready for bed.

“I think it's our cue to leave” her mother smiled weakly, walking towards me and hugging me. “I'm so happy for you two, really. And I'm sure you'll find a way to fix this”

“Yeah…” I sighed. “Thank you”

I watched how my family and hers walked away, probably going to stay the night in Dafne's parents house.

“This is not how I wanted to end the day” I sighed, smiling weakly at Lando and Pierre.

“It's not your fault, mate” Lando sighed

“It partially is” I sighed. “I was the one who brought her into my life. If I knew she was this crazy, I would definitely have ignored her…”

“But you can't change the past” Violet sighed. “Just… Fix it. You have a chance of fixing and ending things with her”

“Yeah…” I sighed, looking at the window of Dafne's bedroom. “Oh, eh… Your rooms are ready. There are two free rooms in the first floor and another in the second one”

“Thank you” they all smiled.

When Dafne and I planned this day, we wanted our friends to stay the night, to spend the next day together before the season started. But now with this new drama, I highly doubt that tomorrow will be a happy day.

“I’ll clean up,” I muttered, staring blankly at the scattered remnants of what was supposed to be a perfect day.

But Lando’s hand on my shoulder pulled me back.

“Hey, no” Oscar smiled. “We will. You can go talk with Dafne and make sure she's alright”

“What? No” I frowned.

“It wasn't a suggestion” Lando laughed. “Go with her, okay?”

I smiled weakly and nodded, hugging them and just giving them indications for where they can put the things in the kitchen.

Her door was locked. And she never did that.

“Dafne… Can we talk, please?” I sighed, resting my forehead against the wood of the door.

“No”

“Come on… Let me just explain? She left, I promise”

I heard her groan and get out of her bed, walking towards the door and unlocking it. She had her mascara running down her cheeks and her eyes red, and it made my heart clench.

“Oh, love…” I exhaled slowly, stepping closer to her and wrapping my arms around her.

“Is it yours?” she mumbled. “You…”

“It’s not” I whisper. “I swear, Dafne. I… I always used protection with her. The last time I slept with her was before the Monza race. That was months ago. There’s no way the baby is mine.”

She took a deep breath and hugged me back, making me sigh relieved and hug her tighter.

“I need to know” she whispered. “Why? Why were you with her?”

I sighed and walked inside her room, closing the door with my foot. I sat in bed with her on my lap and I could only look up at her while my hands rubbed her belly with soft circles.

“Is it true what she said? That you dated girls that looked like me?” she whispered.

“Ah… Yeah” I sighed, resting my head on her chest and closing my eyes. “Yeah… It was a way of… I don't know. A way of making my stupid self think that you were with me. That we never hated each other”

She didn't say anything, just placed a hand on my neck and rubbed it softly. I could feel our son kicking on my hand, making me rub her belly more.

“Melanie was just a summer fling,” I whispered. “She was a distraction, someone I thought I could keep at a distance. But I underestimated her. I let her into my life, and she took advantage of that, making things even more complicated between us.”

“Why?” she whispered, playing with my hair.

I took a deep breath and looked up at her, watching how she was biting her lip.

“The next morning after we slept together…” I sighed, rubbing her belly. “I found out that she stole my phone. She was with another guy in my room and spent my money on room service. Then, when I went back home, I found her there. She reserved a private jet, pretending to be me, and went to my home”

“What?” she gasped softly.

“She… She probably talked with the receptionist and asked for a key, saying that she wanted to give me a surprise” I said, rolling my eyes. “The thing is… When you asked Fred that you wanted me to make a public apology, she texted Fred that I wouldn't do it. She, again, pretended to be me, Dafne”

I saw her taking a deep breath and somehow her features relaxed. I saw her face relaxing, understanding everything.

“If I knew that you wanted me to apologize in public I would have done that” I whispered, holding her hands and kissing them. “God, I would have gone to your apartment and begged you to forgive me, kneeling in front of you if it was necessary while every media recorded me. But… It was too late. When I went back to Maranello after that, everyone stopped talking to me. And you did everything to not find me there. So I just accepted it, I accepted my fate”

“Oh, Charles…” she mumbled, cupping my cheek with her hand. “I… I never knew…”

“And I never wanted you to know” I whispered, watching how little tears started to roll down her cheek. “Please don't cry”

“No, it's…” she sighed, whipping away her tears. “It's too much. The hormones, this new drama, our day ruined…”

“Hey, it's not ruined” I smiled weakly. “Our friends are here. We can still plan something to end it better, okay?”

She sighed and nodded, pressing a kiss on my forehead that made my heart melt. She hugged me, resting her head on my shoulder and sighing.

“First I think I need you to give me a foot massage” she whispered, making me chuckle while I rubbed her back. “The shoes I used today really hurt me…”

“Everything for you, my love” I whisper, kissing her cheek.

She chuckled softly, sitting on the bed and placing her feet on my lap. I looked at her with a soft smile while I rubbed her feet, just how we saw in a video not long ago.

I would do anything to keep her happy. Anything.

“Charlie” she whispered, shaking her feet and making me get out of my trance. “Let's make a statement”

“What?” I frowned.

“Y-yeah… About what happened today” she smiled weakly, moving slowly to hold my hands. “I… When I came to my room I looked at my phone. And I think the reason why Melanie did this was to have her minute of fame. She was in every magazine, every gossip page… Media is even talking shit about you. I think you have to talk about this. We have to talk about this, tell the truth”

I sighed and nodded, wrapping my arm around her. I rubbed her arm softly, kissing the top of her head.

“I feel that the start of the season will be full of questions about this…” I sighed. “About you and the pregnancy, about us together, and now about this whole new drama with Melanie”

“But we can do it, Charles” she whispered, cupping my cheek and making me look at her. “We can do this together. I… God, we wasted so much time acting like idiots, hating each other”

“Yeah” I sighed.

“But now we have things to take care of” she smiled, rubbing my cheekbone with her thumb and pressing a soft kiss on my lips. “We have a son now”

“I will need you by my side, Dafne…” I sighed. “I feel it's too much, actually”

Dafne sighed and nodded, gently pulling me to lay on the bed next to her. She moved to get comfortable, resting her head on my shoulder while I wrapped my arm around her. She rubbed my chest with her hand, making me take a deep breath while I tried to relax.

“Step by step” she whispered. “What do you want to do first?”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of everything that had happened.

“That God damned parental test” I groaned, frustrated by the situation we were forced into.

“Okay, then…” she sighed. “We can call a lawyer. Because if she refuses to take the test, we can pressure her. Then, you can demand her for defamation and… Other things if you want to”

“I don't have proof for that” I sighed. “Yes, she used my money to buy herself things, and pretended to be me… But I don't have proof for that”

“We'll find a way” she sighed, cuddling me.

“Yeah” I sighed.

“And then after the test…” she sighed, looking at me.

“I want to find a house” I said. “For us. I want a place I can call home, where Dorian can grow up. Somewhere we can make our family grow”

“You want more kids?” she whispered, and somehow her hand on my chest stopped moving. “You…”

“Dafne” I smile weakly, holding her hand. “I… God, you are the one. You were always the one. And I want to marry you someday. I… I wish our kid had my surname, just like you. I wish you were my wife”

She sat on the bed and it made my heart stop for a moment. She's not smiling, not even looking at me.

“Step by step” she mumbled. “Just… Step by step”

“Y-yeah”

I looked at her getting up from the bed slowly, and even though I find that cute because the struggles of the pregnancy are already showing, I couldn't help but feel like an idiot.

Telling her that I want her to have my surname, that I want her to be my wife. How could I say something like that?

“Let's go downstairs” she sighed. “I want to cuddle that little puppy”

“Sure” I smiled, getting up and holding her hand. “Just… Forget about the last thing I said, please”

She offered me a weak smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resolve. She stepped closer, her breath shaky as she kissed me softly, a gesture that felt like a fragile truce.

“Step by step” she repeated. “Talk to me about that once Dorian is in our arms, okay?”

“W-what? Are you… Are you sure?” I frowned, confused.

“I am” she nodded, pecking my lips. “It's our fate. Since we were little, you and I were destined to be together”

Watching her walk away, my heart swelled with a mix of love and gratitude. No matter the obstacles, I knew I’d do anything for her. She’s always been the one.

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