#i /am/ on a time limit and I am finally able to write and write fast and I do not know what tomorrows condition might be....
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pickle overworks
I’m tired of this grandpa
Isaac Rhoades x Pickle
Pickle is overworked and honestly so am I but I love yall and will write what you guys asked for
lately, he couldn’t help but notice the signs of strain. The late nights, the bleary eyes, the quiet sighs when they thought no one was watching. It was becoming clear that Pickle was pushing themselves too hard, even though they wouldn’t admit it.
Isaac watched from the doorway as they sat at the kitchen table, laptop open and papers scattered around them. It was well past midnight, and Pickle was hunched over, fingers typing furiously, a deep crease forming between their brows. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, casting shadows under their eyes that made Isaac’s chest tighten.
He knew that look too well—the focused, almost frantic energy of someone who didn’t know how to stop, even when their body was begging for a break. It was a trap he had fallen into countless times himself, which made it even harder to stand by and watch.
Isaac cleared his throat, stepping into the room. “You’re still working?”
Pickle barely looked up, waving him off. “Just a little longer. I’m almost done.”
“That’s what you said three hours ago,” Isaac said, his tone calm but firm as he approached the table. He rested a hand on the back of their chair, his thumb brushing lightly against their shoulder. “Pickle, you’ve been at this for days. You need to take a break.”
“I’m fine,” they muttered, their eyes still glued to the screen. “I just need to finish this one thing, and then I’ll stop. Promise.”
Isaac frowned, his grip on their shoulder tightening slightly. He could hear the exhaustion in their voice, see it in the way their hands trembled just the slightest bit as they typed. But they were stubborn—just as stubborn as he could be when it came to overworking.
He crouched down beside them, gently turning their chair so they were forced to face him. Pickle’s tired eyes met his, and Isaac could see the cracks in their resolve—the weariness, the tension, the frustration at their own limitations.
“Look at me,” Isaac said softly, his voice steady and unyielding. “You’re overworking yourself. You’re running on fumes, and it’s not sustainable. You need to rest.”
Pickle’s lips pressed into a thin line, their gaze dropping to their lap. “I can’t stop now, Isaac. There’s too much to do. If I don’t finish this—”
Isaac shook his head, cutting them off. “You won’t be able to finish anything if you burn yourself out. You know that.”
There was a long pause, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Pickle’s hands clenched into fists, their knuckles white. Isaac could see the battle they were waging with themselves—the fear of letting go, of not being enough, of falling behind. It was a familiar fight, one he knew all too well.
He softened his tone, reaching out to take one of their hands in his. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, Pickle. It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to step back.”
For a moment, they didn’t respond, their eyes darting between Isaac and the pile of work on the table. Finally, with a shaky exhale, Pickle closed the laptop and let their shoulders sag, as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with them.
“I don’t know how to stop,” they admitted quietly, their voice barely above a whisper.
Isaac squeezed their hand, his thumb brushing gently over their knuckles. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said softly. “Come here.”
He pulled them into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around them in a way that made it impossible for them to keep resisting. Pickle melted into him, their head resting against his chest as they let out a shaky breath. Isaac’s hand moved to the back of their neck, his fingers threading through their hair in a soothing rhythm.
“You’re allowed to take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice a steady presence against the storm of their thoughts. “You don’t have to be everything, all the time.”
Pickle closed their eyes, their body finally relaxing in his arms as they allowed themselves a moment of vulnerability. It wasn’t easy for them to admit when they were struggling, but with Isaac, they knew they didn’t have to pretend to be strong all the time.
Isaac held them close, his cheek resting against the top of their head. He didn’t push them to talk or to explain. He simply stayed with them, offering the kind of quiet, unwavering support that they had always given to him.
“I’ll help you,” Isaac murmured after a while. “But right now, you need to sleep. Everything else can wait.”
Pickle nodded against his chest, the fight draining out of them as they finally let themselves lean into him. Isaac stood, guiding them gently toward the bedroom. He pulled back the covers, watching as Pickle crawled in, their exhaustion now visible in every movement.
Once they were settled, Isaac sat beside them on the edge of the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from their face. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”
Pickle’s eyes fluttered shut, their breathing slowing as the weight of the day finally began to fade. Isaac stayed by their side, his hand resting lightly on their shoulder, keeping them grounded as they drifted off to sleep.
As he watched them relax, Isaac couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. He would make sure they took the time to rest, to heal. Because they didn’t have to do it all alone—not when he was there to help carry the load.
And tonight, at least, he would make sure they found peace in that
#sakuverse#zsakuva#peppymintdreamsproduction#isaac rhoades x reader#zsakuva isaac#isaac#isaac rhoades#isaac x reader#pot calling the kettle black#anon ask#ask the mint and you shall receive#ask and you shall receive my dream child#send asks
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>>watches Gael Monfils' match & his scores during Roland Garros >>wow he might win a few more matches, he's in great shape >>he has to walk over from the next match due to exhaustion/injury after one particularly impressive move (and a very long, 5-set duel) >>(has too much stuff going on, tunes out from tennis, wimbledon is a blur, june-july would be a blur as well, had it not been for the emails and tickets) >>sees the headlines, oh, Monfils wins matches in Toronto, cool, maybe he still has more to follow up with >>the next match (apparently, for semifinals) is lost as well Conclusion [a]: I need to stop following RG for updates, otherwise Monfils has no chance of winning any other big tournament* *except it's correlation (and premonitions), not causation, because: a) I just tune in at the wrong moments, and I'm not that in touch with general scores to hear about his losses (they only put his wins in the astonished titles: "wow, he still knows how to win!") b) it's doubtful that he has any intentions of losing (at all, or esp. when I start to follow his successes again) c) after all, he came back after a long break caused by injuries (I think), and has been playing for years (decades?); who wouldn't get tired after all that (and, frankly, get older -- one thing is just physiology, the other is the young blood's coming of age... the teenagers who grew up watching his matches, and maybe idolized him, are now his opponents).
Conclusion [b]: Whatever, enjoy the game. Or the headlines. Or writing about them.
#an overly longish procrastination-related essay about GM#tournaments tournaments etc.#and in the end Djokovic wins anyway#(or is in the finals at least)#ah yes the useless trivia#i used to be better at this#(definitely not playing tennis. i am and will be shit at tennis. i would have to try first... but i would be shit at it anyway)#ew. hand-eye coordination. ew.#things you heard about but never had (played)#trivia is fun though#as long as it's useless#... though i have already tried things that i'd appreciated in others and never considered being able to. so maybe time is the limit#time and patience (aka long-time effort and obstinacy)#title of my sextape. nah. that got old#'i'll write a book about it'
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.
“You didn’t bring your own?�� He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan.
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”
You wanted to take his finger and break it.
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.”
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!”
“No! Fuck– Get off me!”
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.
“Is that all, Sergeant?”
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.”
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
#suzsblinddatewritingchallenge#targaryenvampireslayer#suz's writing challenge#writing challenge#filthy impetuous souls#jen writes#prompted#enemies to lovers#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#curvy!reader#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#sebastian stan characters#protective!bucky barnes#sniper!reader#winter soldier#the winter soldier x you#the winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes imagines
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hidden.
Feyd x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone tho)
you and Feyd have this thing and it can never be more.
warnings: Feyd bc let’s be real, smut, a little degradation, breeding kink
note: I love feyd, don’t know if I did him justice at all BUT the need to write him just won’t leave me be. I have a few others in the works so let’s see how it goes. Also no proofread, it’s late and I’m horny so yea.
No description of ethnicity but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.
if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.
x
x
You know you shouldn’t be doing this but you just can’t help yourself. In all honesty how could you be expected to control yourself and behave like a lady of a great house when HE exists, when he was fucking you completely stupid against this cold wall in a darken slightly hidden hallway in the fortress.
You were extremely thankful this meeting of the great houses was taking place on Giedi Prime because not a living soul on this planet would dare speak of seeing the sight that the two of you made. Completely lost in each other, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked into you with a desperate need, his muscular ass on display, your face full of pleasure as he bite love marks into your chest where your breast were fully exposed - because he knows there’s less chance of anyone seeing and he only even thinks of that for you and your honor - His plump lips pulling a nipple into his soft wet mouth to suck making you cry out.
Even your handmaids could be sent away and wait where they wouldn’t be spotted without you because he could do so on his own home planet though he probably could manage it on any planet he was that feared. You were lucky enough to sway your father to let you bring the only two you knew you could trust.
You could hardly keep your thoughts together when a particularly hard slow thrust made you scream out. You knew you were caught letting your mind wonder.
He tsked against your ear, his blacken teeth nipping the lobe before his tongue flicked it.
“Am I boring you my lady?” His deep raspy voice questioned in the deathly quiet hallway.
“No my love, know s-sometimes can’t help it” You answered breathlessly as you pulled your head back, your hand cradling his cheek as your eyes finally found each others.
Sometimes you got too caught in your thoughts and worries about being found, something he didn’t like. He was the kind of man that didn’t like anything to take your attention away from him and with the limited time your both able to find to be together he demanded you were fully present with him at all times and if not he’d have to bring that pretty little mind of yours back to the situation at hand.
He smirked, it was then you realized he had pulled out. The empty feeling sitting in.
“Then let me help you”
Before you could respond his thick long cock was pushing past your sensitive lips and burying its self deep within you to the hilt. You choked on your own scream as his pelvis pulled back and snapped forward with another hard thrust. You felt every veiny inch of him within your slick tight walls.
“Oh fuck” you moaned eyes rolling back as he continued his short brutal thrusts “oh Feyd, please”.
“Please what?” His deep voice mocked.
“Please, please wanna cum” you mumbled hardly getting the words out as your head fell backwards into the wall.
“Would you let me fuck you like this in front of all of them? In front of him?” He mocked some more, the “him” carrying the hatred you knew he had for the man he viewed as weak that your father had promised you to.
“Oh god yes! ‘M all yours!” You yelled desperately, pinned to the wall like decor, a fine piece of art as he drove his cock into you at that tortuous pace. It was hard, slow and deep.
His large rough callous hands which were somehow still soft held your bare ass under your dress to keep you in place as he fucked you. His fingers tips gripped you so tight you were sure there would be bruising.
“Let him see how wet I make you? How my pretty girl screams for me? Begging for my cock?” He rasped as his eyes bore into yours, your faces were so close at this point your sure you both were just breathing in eachothers breaths.
Your tight walls clenched even harder on his throbbing cock causing him to falter slightly, his hips needing a split second to get back into rhythm.
“Fuck!” He roared in that unique tone of his, “Look at you getting wet like a whore” he spat at you, though there was no malice.
“Getting fucking wet when I talk about fucking you in front of him, is that what you want? Want him and the whole known universe to know that you belong to me? That you belong to na-Baron Feyd Rutha Harkonnen? Know how well you take my cock?” He gritted, the look of pure possessiveness in his blue eyes as his nostrils flared, his full bottom lip being pulled between his teeth.
You couldn’t help the tears that sprung, and your nails that dug into his back no doubt breaking skin, you heard the hiss pass through his lips at the pleasure of it but he was just fucking you so good, splitting you wide open on his cock and saying the most nastiness things a lady of a great house should never hear. He was speaking to you a way no one would ever dare and it was driving crazy you like he knows it always does.
“Y-yes! Wan’ them all to know!” You moaned as your shaky breath washed over his full lips. You closed the small space and took his mouth upon yours, his opening immediately to take dominance over your tongue. The kiss was just as messy and sloppy as the fucking currently happening in a hallway anyone could walk down. Yet you couldn’t care less because of the pure ecstasy he was making you feel and because you knew Feyd would kill anyone stupid enough to walk this way, let along gaze upon you in this state.
The rest of the world may have not knew but those here did and they knew better than to ever speak on it.
Here they all know you belong to Feyd and that made your heart soar because you’d give anything for all to know.
“Fuck pretty girl” he groaned against your wet mouth, “You’re dripping down my balls, my fucking thighs are wet with you”.
His words just made you moan louder.
“Go head, cum for me, let go my pretty little pet” he rasped.
The scream that tore through you should make you embarrassed how much you sounded like a common whore but nothing in you could muster a care in the world. Feyd was worth everything. Worth getting caught, worth the embarrassment on your family, worth whatever came with being found out.
Your body shook as the force of your orgasm pushed Feyd’s cock out, momentarily catching him off guard before the loss of your heat and your desperate whine at the action caused him to snap back in action and drive his cock back in til he was brushing your cervix.
Your body continued to shake as your pussy claimed his cock in a vice grip and your eyes rolled back, your mouth hanging open with some slight drool down the corner. Everything about the moment sent a chill down Feyd’s spine as his balls drew tight and his cock swelled, the release of his cum shooting into your warmth and drenching your walls with his thick seed.
How Feyd wished more then anything you both could allowed it to take, the thought of you claimed in that way, round with his child caused Feyd release to prolong. A groan ripping through his chest, as his cock continued to spurt his cum into your warm haven. Desperate to see you round, full of him.
“Fuck!”
Your hands guided his head as you brought him in for an embrace. Your faces pressed together.
The both of you stayed that way for awhile. Deep breathing slowly coming to a normal pace as the mixture from both your releases cooled on each of your thighs.
He slowly pulled out his soften cock as you verbally mourned the loss.
Feyd helped you fix yourself before slipping his cock back into his pants and pulling them back over his hips. He hadn’t pull them down far to begin with with the rush you both were in. Just enough to get his impressive cock out.
“Did you mean it?” He asked catching you off guard with the softness and vulnerability of his deep raspy tone.
You searched his handsome face looking for an answer before it hit you. You fought back the tears that threaten to fall. The sadness that washed over you you wished wasn’t the reality.
“Of course, more than anything but we both know it would never happen Feyd. I am already betrothed” you remind him. “My father will not reconsider, not while house Fenring has offered so much and he still carry’s hatred for the Baron”.
Feyd didn’t seem surprised at your statement, it was the truth you both knew. He just seemed to be contemplating and that worried you. You didn’t want him to do anything that would get himself into trouble.
x
It was two long days later when you got to see Feyd again, this time in the arena. You don’t understand how it all happened because it had happened so quickly.
You were sitting up in the guest seats watching with a few the other young lady’s of great houses, gossiping about Feyds skill and brutality with the rest of your respective families when Feyd had just finished his slaughter. He stood there proud after taking off his shield and finishing in an even more entertaining way when all realized some of the slaves weren’t drugged.
He raised a single fist as the roar from the area slowly came to a stop. A servant rushed to him handing over something. You sat watching with all wondering what was happening since this wasn’t customary for the end of the fight.
“What is the na-Baron up to?” One of the lords from the other houses asked as everyone watched.
Your heart raced as you watched through your glasses as he brought a mic up to his mouth. He smirked before announcing his challenge to the young lord of house Fenring for your hand in marriage.
You could swear he looked directly up at you high in the sky above him smirking before he cut his palm, made a fist and pounded his chest in a salute of ultimate respect. The stunned crowed of Giedi Prime following their beloved na-Baron. The sound was deafening. Your breathing stopped as you heard all the gasps around you. The young lady’s grasping at you asking a million questions as your father and Lord Fenring jumped to their feet yelling their rage at the disrespect of the young na-Baron. For they understood things were different here and just like the na-Baron was currently explaining on Giedi Prime his challenge must be accepted by the young lord himself and he would not be able to choose a fighter instead where the laws of marriage was considered. It was fight to the death or be shamed and seen as weak. Which on Giedi Prime was seen as the worst fate. To refuse meant House Harkkonen would refuse to acknowledge House Fenring because of their weakness. All deals and trade voided.
You couldn’t slow your breathing as you leaned on the railing watching him watching you. You could hear the commotion around you and the young lord Fenring fighting with his father over his acceptance before making his way out the room. Hope bloomed in your chest, you knew your father could not refuse a display like this. Such an open declaration of love, of ownership. You were his and he would fight to the death to make it so in all ways.
It wasn’t long before you seen doors on the stadium floor beginning to open. And Feyd’s smirk turned into a monstrous smile full of blackened teeth. You were his and it was time all knew. Giedi Prime would finally have their na-Baroness.
x
x
#feyd#feyd rautha#feyd x reader#feyd x you#Feyd x yn#feyd rautha x you#Feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x yn#feyd smut#feyd rautha harkonnen#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler smut#dune fanfiction#dune 2#Ughwrites#Ughfeyd
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Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse comes out later today so I wanted to write a post reflecting on my journey and experience working on this movie. So many people have supported me through this and I am so thankful to each and every one of you!
Text version of this post under the cut:
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse comes out tonight. It feels really weird to be typing that out right now. I worked on the movie as a visdev artist for the last 2.5 years, from 2020 to 2023. Long post incoming.
There are a lot of reasons why I'd consider this film to be one of the most ambitious animated films to ever be made. As artists, we were asked to push ourselves far beyond our comfort zones and do things that had never been done before in animation.
Every time we reached a point where most people would say "this must possibly be as creative and weird as it gets," our entire team of artists and animators would smash right through the ceiling. The driving direction for the visuals of the film was to push the limits of every single frame; to challenge audience expectations and make something truly original.
The best thing about this film was that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie. The hardest thing about this film was also that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie.
There were times while working on this where the imposter syndrome hit me hard. This was my first big movie, and what a hell of a first movie to get thrust into.
I came in only a few years out of school with absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing. I constantly feared that someone had made a mistake in bringing me onto this film, and I was going to let everyone down. There was a solid chunk of those 2.5 years where I wasn't sure if animation was the right path for me.
If there's anything I could tell my past self it would be this: there are so many people who love you and believe in you. There will be a time when you get to stand on the other side of it, look back on everything and see how far you came.
I'm still working on self-acceptance every day (it will be a lifelong struggle, I'm sure), but I'm glad I didn't give up on myself. I'm proud of myself and my contributions to this film, and I'm certain that this movie will continue to change and shape the animation landscape just as the first one did. That's truly a special feeling to have been a part of. I am so incredibly grateful to every single person who helped me along this journey.
Here come the thanks:
To the ENTIRE visdev & art crew- it's been an honor getting to work alongside each and every one of you. My jaw is literally still on the floor from seeing your incredible talent day after day.
I want to thank Tiffany and Felicia especially for being there for me through tough times- I admire and respect you both so much as artists, and even better than that, my life is greatly enriched for being able to call you my friends.
Thank you Patrick and Dean for taking chances on me, teaching me so much about art and what I'm capable of, and encouraging me along the way. To Aymeric, your art is one of the reasons I initially became interested in animation and you have been one of the kindest & most empathetic mentors I could ever have asked for.
I want to thank my wonderful parents for believing in me always and raising me into the person I am today: everything I do in life is to make you proud. To my brother Andrew who is perpetually awake at 3 AM when I need someone to talk to- thank you for always picking up the phone and making me laugh.
And finally to my partner Luke for making me grilled cheeses on all of the difficult days, for never getting sick of me even when all I would ever talk about was work, and for patiently and steadfastly loving me throughout this entire thing. I don't think I could've done it without you.
Starting tomorrow I will begin posting and sharing some of the art I made for this movie; I'm looking forward to sharing some of my personal favorites with you. I hope each and every one of you enjoys Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse when it hits theaters later today!
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Breaking up with you
Masterlist
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: y/n is already having a bad day, what happens when she overhears Natasha and Clint’s conversation?
Warnings: angst but fluff at the end (don’t worry I am incapable of writing a sad ending 😭), swearing, breaking up, mentions of upcoming period, crying
Y/n’s pov
I wake up feeling clingy today. I don’t even know why it’s just one of those days.
I whine when I realize there is sun seeping in through the windows and onto my face so I flip around to find Natasha but she isn’t there.
I pout and reach for her until I find the end of the bed but no natty
“Natty?”
I mumble still with my morning sleepy voice.
No answer
Of course. She’s probably training. But she usually waits for me to wake up or at least leaves a note
I never did check if she left a note. So I look at both of our bedside tables. Nothing. I check my phone. Nothing. I get up to go to the bathroom. Not even a sticky note on the mirror.
Tragic
Maybe she got called on a last minute mission. No. She’d have someone tell me if she couldn’t tell me herself.
So why isn’t she here? I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend and eat takis.
Ohhhh. I get it now. I’m gonna start my period soon. I always crave takis when I’m about to be on my period. Which is probably also why I’m feeling so clingy.
So I check the time and shrug thinking what’s the worst that can happen if I eat a bag of takis for breakfast?
I grab one of the throw blankets as I pass the living room to the kitchen and walk into the pantry.
I look at my section and find the line of takis that says ‘OFF LIMITS I’LL BITE YOU!’ On its label. And I grab a bag happily knowing that nobody has tried taking them.
Except for Peter. Poor kid. I was actively on my period and he didn’t know since he was new. Ended up with his aunt laughing next to me when he was showing her the bite marks on his arm. She told him that he should have read the label.
I agree. Always listen when someone says they’ll bite you. They probably mean it.
Anyways. I go to the living room and plop down and then I say
“Friday?”
“Yes miss y/l/n?”
“Where is everyone?”
It’s a bit muffled since I’m stuffing my face with takis but Friday is able to understand.
“They are all in a meeting right now”
I furrow my eyebrows and say
“Without me?”
“It seems to be that way yes”
I frown and get up going to the meeting room.
##################
Natasha’s pov
We are having a meeting without y/n and suddenly Friday speaks up
“Miss y/l/n is on her way to the meeting room now. I would advise you hurry.”
We all scramble to change the scenery to make it look like a normal meeting about an upcoming mission.
Y/n walks in and says
“What’s going on guys?”
Wanda invades my brain and says
“Ignore her. Do not say a thing. I’ll handle it”
I nod once. I don’t really need to ignore her, but it fuels the fire I guess.
Wanda speaks up finally
“Oh we’re just having a meeting about our next mission. We decided to let you sleep in since your skill set isn’t required for this one.”
She shrugs her shoulders and says
“Okay. Hi nat”
She smiles and waves before leaving and I don’t say a thing.
Once she’s gone and Friday says that she is not coming back we let our breaths out and tony says
“That was a close one”
##################
Y/n’s pov
I sit back down and start to overthink.
I usually am able to keep my thoughts at bay but today is just not my day. So I get lost in my head.
Why did nat not say anything? She always says something. Always makes an effort to get up and show me some affection. Maybe it’s an off day for her too. Sometimes she doesn’t like to be affectionate and maybe that’s why.
I break myself out of my head when some of the avengers come tumbling into the room.
Nat is not one of them so I say
“Where’d nat go?”
A bunch of them shrug but Wanda says
“I think she might have gone upstairs.”
I nod my head and say in a slightly more hushed tone just to Wanda
“Did she seem off?”
Wanda shakes her head and says
“No? Why?”
I say
“Oh”
And shrug my shoulders and pick myself up
“No reason. Just wondering. Thanks!”
So I head upstairs and find Natasha in our room. She’s sitting on the bed and reading a book.
“Hey baby! You didn’t leave a note telling me where you were”
I fake pout at her and she doesn’t do anything just mumbles a quick apology.
I try to get a conversation going.
“No it’s okay baby. I just got a little lonely for a sec.”
She ignores me but I can’t catch a signal so I keep trying.
“What are we doing today?”
She just ignores me again and I sigh and say
“I guess that book is real good. I’ll leave you to it. I think I left my takis in the living room anyways. So I’ll be down there probably on my phone if you need me. I love you”
She doesn’t even say I love you back to me.
Alright. Im a bit hurt by that one. But nevertheless I do what I said I would.
I finished my bag of takis a while ago and I’m falling asleep on this couch. It’s definitely not as comfortable as nats arms but she probably needs space. Maybe the meeting made her have a few flashbacks or something.
Whatever it is I’ll give her enough space to process it.
My thoughts are cut off when the sweet escape of sleep overtakes me.
…
I wake up about an hour later and find that someone had put a blanket over me while I was out. Thanks.
I get up and go to our room hoping nat is ready to talk now. But she’s not there when I get there so I go in search of her.
After a while I find her in Clint’s room but I don’t go in. They’re talking and for some reason I get the urge to eavesdrop. So I do.
“Well you have to say something. You can’t just be leading her on. It’ll hurt her worse.”
“I don’t know Clint”
“Nat. I think you should just tell her”
Wait. Are they talking about me?
“How am I even supposed to go about that? I mean. It’s gonna be so awkward! Not to mention it’ll break the poor girl’s heart”
“Well sometimes you have to do things that aren’t comfortable for you.”
“Okay so I have to go and tell this girl who is head over heels for me that I’m not?! I mean. It’s so obvious right?”
“It is pretty obvious that you don’t like her”
“Yeah well she’s clearly not catching any signs. She’s really naive and besides, I’m literally-”
Fuck this shit.
I walk back to our room to get away from it all.
I can’t even handle this right now. My own girlfriend isn’t in love with me anymore. Of course.
Just when I think she’s in it with me forever. She doesn’t even like me.
And I’m so stupid to not notice that she was feeling this way. I’m probably holding her back.
This is bullshit. Why today? Why me?
I sulk in my room for a while and then I realize that I should surprise her and break up with her first. It’ll make it easier anyways.
I huff and decide to finally get dressed. I probably shouldn’t break up with her in my stitch pajamas.
So I change into some decent clothes and make sure I look presentable. Then I once again go in search of my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
This time I find her in the living room. I stand tall and say
“Natasha”
She ignores me. Fucking bitch. At least get the balls to break up with me. I’m having to do it for you.
“Natalia”
I use her name and she looks at me. Her face is still but I know she’s listening.
“May I have a word with you? Alone”
I emphasize the alone part and she nods her head softly. We walk in silence to our room and I close the door behind me.
We stare at each other for a second when she breaks the silence
“You wanted to tell me something? Is everything alright?”
I cross my arms and say
“No everything is not alright. I just want to say a few things and then I’ll be on my way.”
She nods her head and quirks a brow. I know she notices my standoffish behavior.
“I’m breaking up with you”
I tell it to her blunt. And her face goes through so many emotions before she’s able to say
“What?!”
I look at her and say
“You heard me”
She shakes her head to break out of her thoughts and she says
“Yes I heard you but you can’t be serious right?”
I narrow my eyes at her and give her a nasty look and say
“What? Didn’t see it coming?”
She shakes her head and says
“Wha- wh- why?”
I roll my eyes and say
“You act like you didn’t want this in the first place. There’s a few things you should know. Im not naive. I’m not oblivious. And I’m not your girlfriend. Don’t worry. I made it easy for you now you don’t have to break my heart.”
She tears up and before she can make her case I walk out. I don’t want to hear it.
And I’m about to break down. So I quickly walk to Wanda’s room and storm in.
She stands up quickly and vision, who was sitting on the bed with her watching sitcoms, makes a speedy exit upon seeing my state.
“What’s wrong?”
I sniffle and try to hold back my tears and I say
“I broke up with Natasha”
“WHAT?!”
I start completely sobbing by now. Wanda picks me up and carries me into her bed and she comforts me until I can speak in full sentences again.
“Okay what happened? I thought she was your endgame”
I nod and say
“She was. Until I heard her talking to Clint earlier”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“What did you hear?”
I tell her about the conversation I overheard and she squints analyzing my retelling.
“Is it okay if I call Clint in here? It sounds like you didn’t get the full story and I want to hear another side to it”
I shrug my shoulders and nod my head so Wanda texts him. After a few minutes he comes in with an angry face and a wet patch on his shoulder.
Great. Natasha’s already gotten to him.
“Why would you do that y/n?!”
Wanda cuts him off and says
“Hold on Clint. Before we get to that we need to hear something from you okay? So calm down”
Wanda explains to him what I’ve told and he sighs. Then he starts chuckling softly and then full on laughing and I frown and say
“What’s so funny!?”
He shakes his head and says
“Y/n. Natasha wasn’t talking to me about you. She was talking to me about Reese. The new intern. She’s been all over Natasha recently and cannot pick up any signs. If you had stayed a second later you would have heard Natasha say ‘and besides. I’m literally in love with y/n’ and none of this would have happened.”
I look down a little embarrassed.
“I guess sometimes I get a little bit angry. I didn’t even think.”
He nods his head and pats my shoulder and says
“I think you should go and fix this.”
I nod my head and go to his room where Natasha is.
I knock softly and say
“Nat?”
She jumps up and wipes her tears trying to seem strong and says
“Oh. What’s up. Did you need me to get my things?”
I shake my head and say
“I’m so sorry baby. I was eaves dropping on your conversation with Clint earlier and I missed some parts and thought you were talking about me! So I got angry and sad and then I was like ‘well if she’s thinking about doing it to me I’m gonna do it first’ because I was protecting myself from the inevitability of a heart break. I love you so much and I just was scared. I didn’t even think to ask you about it first and I’m sorry I was just being sensitive today and I had no idea! I am so sorry and I compl-”
Natasha cuts off my ramble with a kiss and I obviously kiss back.
We somehow end up half way making out until Clint says
“Hey! Not in my room you fucking horndogs!”
We pull away and giggle and Natasha grabs my hand and pulls me to our room and I say
“I’m sorry”
She shakes her head and says
“Y/n when you said that to me it made my heart split in two. I love you entirely too much to make the mistake of letting you go. I’m sure I would have come after you if it weren’t for my initial shock. I guess I just thought we were so endgame that the thoughts of a breakup would have never crossed my mind.”
I smile and say
“I’m sorry.”
Then all of a sudden I get nervous and play with my hands and look at the ground and she says
“What’s on your mind sweetheart?”
I bite my lip and say
“Since I um. Since I broke up with you like thirty minutes ago will you- um- will you be my girlfriend again?”
She laughs and says
“Yes of course baby”
I smile and say
“Sorry. It felt informal to not ask.”
She cups my face in her hands and says
“Next time let’s talk about it before we go breaking up with each other yes?”
I nod my head and say
“Sorry. I think I’m starting my period soon so I’m kind of having some fog brain.”
She nods her head in understanding and I say
“Now that we’re okay, can I have cuddles?”
She smiles and says
“Yes dorogoy. Of course we can.”
I smile and then say in a teasing tone
“This is actually your fault”
She scoffs as I cuddle next to her and plays along
“How is this my fault?!”
“You didn’t leave a note for me this morning.”
She rolls her eyes and says
“I am sorry baby. I was rushed out of bed and it slipped my mind. I guess it’s because I usually don’t have meetings without you so I forgot”
I nod my head and say
“You forgort”
I giggle a bit and she says
“You and your fricken vocal stims.”
I smile and say
“I think I’m pretty cool”
She smiles and says
“The coolest. Now let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace”
I smile and pull her super close to me. Then push her away as a joke and half way yell
“Leave room for Jesus!”
She rolls her eyes and says
“Come here.”
I get closer and say
“I love you”
She smiles and says
“I love you too”
##################
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346
A/N: sometimes I’ll use the most random things to separate my section 😭
#natasha romanoff#marvel#avengers#fanfic#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#fanfiction#black widow#mcu
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Friendcation (m) | myg | wedding special
Yoongi has done everything in his power to make your wedding truly special, what he couldn’t plan for was the rain. But fret not, a bit of rain will not make your day less special when it’s surrounded by friends and family. And your wedding night? Well, being pushed down into the sheets by Yoongi is easily one of your favorite things.
→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: the whole gang + family 🥰 → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, wedding!au, mechanic!Yoongi. → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 12.2k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Yoongi is so sweet 😭 You’ll see what I mean when you read, but he’s also a horny man that just wants to make the wedding day and night the best for his love 😭 Also, there’s still the usual sexual jokes and banter than friendcation is known for— there’s a few inside jokes, but you really don’t have to have read the whole series to understand them! → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, sexy lingerie, oral (male receiving), deep throating, multiple orgasms, sexual banter, pregnancy kink, spanking, pussy rubbing, nipple play and sucking, clit play, creampie, cockwarming, slow and hard sex, first a bit rough and dirty but then it turns slow and more passionate 🥹 → Author’s note: Remember when I did the winter special and I said that I would probably write more? Well, here I am with a new edition to Friendcation! This special is actually set before the ‘winter special’ 🤭 I do have two more specials planned for this lovely couple 🥳 I know that this is a special to a completed and established series, but I still do think that it kinda works as a one-shot still. So if you find this, not having read Friendcation before, I think you’d still be able to enjoy this, and if you end up liking it, you can always start reading the series (it’s filled with a lot of crack and sexual tension 🤭). And please don’t let the very sweet and romantic beginning fool you—this is very much still friendcation and the story will get filthy towards the end 👿 The taglist is technically closed, and I just went with the old original one— but if you want to be added to the taglist for the two other specials I’m gonna do, just let me know. And If you for some reason don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know that too! → Author’s note, pt2: So… remember how I said I would post this on the 20th? SURPRISE! I’m in my feels because of the ot7 photo— so here’s an early gift for you all 💜 Also, I did not really proofread this, simple because I’m too much of a happy mess to do so, so I’m sorry for any mistakes and whatnot. → Read on AO3? [link] ✨
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This moment, bathed in magic, will weave itself into the very fabric of your memory, an indelible mark that time dare not erase until your very essence transcends this forsaken world.
But until that fateful day arrives, every precious moment enveloped in your boyfriend’s presence is a treasure to be savored—a sweet prelude to the boundless joy awaiting you when he finally becomes your husband!
At times, the surreal reality of marrying Yoongi, your once-friend-turned-best-friend-turned-soulmate, eludes comprehension, prompting you to pinch yourself just to affirm that this enchanting journey from friendship to love is indeed your reality.
A simple getaway—a friendcation with your best friends, and the simmering tension between you and Yoongi exploded like a tightly wound spring finally released, echoing the burst of a bubblegum bubble reaching its limit before bursting in a cascade of flavor and delight.
That’s precisely why you now find yourself immersed in the tranquil embrace of Seoul’s outskirts, enveloped by a forest alive with verdant splendor—a tapestry of towering trees crowned with emerald foliage, interwoven with lush grasses and bushes displaying an array of vibrant green hues, painting a picture of nature’s untouched magnificence.
Under Yoongi’s careful hands, string lights dance like fireflies, weaving around the sturdy trunks and graceful branches of the trees, forming a celestial canopy above. Amidst this enchanting glow, he has created a makeshift altar, a sanctuary for your love to bloom amidst the verdant embrace of nature.
Every detail meticulously arranged by Yoongi leaves you in awe, a tender reminder of his deep devotion—a gesture that fills you with a bittersweet mix of wonder and gratitude, as you realize anew the depth of his commitment to making your wedding day a cherished memory.
As the string lights cast their gentle glow, the forest transforms into a captivating fairytale image, each illuminated leaf and dancing shadow conspiring to steal your breath away. In this magical moment, Yoongi’s tender side shines through, igniting a newfound appreciation that fills your heart with a fluttering joy you never knew existed.
“Do you like it?” Yoongi’s voice, soft as a whisper, accompanies the gentle caress of his calloused fingers tracing circles on your skin. In that tender moment, as his touch soothes the frantic beat of your heart, you’re overcome by a puzzling mixture of nerves and anticipation—after all, it’s Yoongi, you don’t understand why you’d be nervous.
As he gestures towards the enchanting scene he’s meticulously crafted—the trees adorned with twinkling fairy lights, the stools arranged before the makeshift altar, even Holly parked to the side, adorned with ribbons and lights—Yoongi’s efforts overwhelm you with a wave of affection for the man who’s not just your partner but your future husband. Each thoughtful detail he’s woven into this momentous occasion stirs your heart, amplifying the love that binds you together.
With a tender smile gracing your lips, you lean in closer to Yoongi, your eyes reflecting the warmth of the fairy lights surrounding you. “I love it,” you muse softly, your voice a gentle melody in the tranquil forest. As you draw him nearer, your touch carrying the weight of affection, you add, “But I never knew this side of you—so soft, so tender. It’s like seeing you in a whole new light.”
He chuckles, that deep, resonant sound that melts your insides and sends your heart soaring, like a bird set free in the vast, open sky.
“You know I want our wedding to be perfect, or at least as close as we can get. Perfection might be an illusion, something that doesn’t truly exist, but damn, you’re the closest thing to it, babe. Anything for you.”
Your cheeks flush with warmth as you divert your gaze to the damp grass beneath your feet. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice tinged with emotion. “I love it.”
Yoongi’s gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering with admiration. He gently runs a warm hand over your flushed cheeks. “I love your dress,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “Everything about you is stunning. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
You’re adorned in a simple yet elegant dress, the delicate lace you adore gracefully hugging your figure. To complete the look, a flower crown, woven from nature’s most exquisite leaves and blossoms, rests upon your head, making you feel like a woodland fairy in a fairytale.
You chuckle, warmth blossoming in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Yoon,” you reply, your voice soft and filled with affection. “You look incredibly handsome in your suit. I love you, and I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Speaking of marriage— you did tell our parents what time the wedding is, right?” you ask, your voice tinged with nervousness. You glance up at the sky, the sun hanging low, a golden reminder that the ceremony is imminent. Anxiety bubbles within you as you realize none of your friends or family have arrived yet.
“Did you give them the right location? What if they can’t find us out here in the forest?” you ask, your voice rising with mounting anxiety. The nervousness gets the best of you, your heart pounding with worry as the reality of the secluded setting sinks in.
“Relax, babe. They’ll be here soon. The officiator will arrive, and everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. As always, his calm presence grounds you, steadying your racing heart with just a single touch, or even the reassuring depth of his gaze.
Instantly, his words soothe you, the nervousness ebbing away with each syllable. You smile back at him, then glance down at your gown. It’s a simple, white dress—though you had wished for a different color, given how many traditions you’re already breaking. This fact has upset both your parents, who have scolded you countless times for not having a traditional wedding. But you and Yoongi are determined to follow your own path, and this forest wedding is exactly what you want—a heartfelt ceremony in the very place where your love story began.
As the distant hum of engines grows louder, you turn to see your parents’ and Yoongi’s parents’ cars winding their way up the uneven forest road. A rush of excitement courses through you as the vehicles come to a stop, and one by one, your beloved family members step out into the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, their faces radiant with anticipation and love.
Your mother rushes over, enveloping you in a tight, loving hug that fills you with warmth and reassurance. Moments later, your father joins in, his embrace just as comforting. Then, Yoongi’s parents step forward, wrapping you in their arms, their affectionate gestures bridging the gap between families. In a seamless exchange, your parents switch, their hugs crossing boundaries and symbolizing the unity and love that binds you all together.
“Is it too late to have a traditional wedding?” Yoongi’s mother asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she bats her lashes, her voice carrying a playful tease that dances on the air like a feather.
“Eomma! We’ve discussed this before. We don’t want a traditional wedding,” Yoongi groans, his frustration palpable as he defends your choices once again. You can practically feel the weight of his exasperation, as if he’s on the verge of pulling out his hair in sheer frustration.
“Yes, yes. I know,” she says softly, her smile tinged with wistfulness as she gently nudges Yoongi’s shoulders. Despite her words, her eyes shimmer with fond memories and unspoken hopes, casting a warm glow that belies her timid demeanor.
“Shouldn’t you just be happy that I’m getting married at all?” Yoongi frowns, a hint of playful defiance in his expression, but his lips curve into a crooked smile that reveals the warmth of his affection, his gums peeking through like hidden treasures.
“Yes, you keep surprising me. Next, you’ll give me grandchildren, yes?” she asks, her voice laced with playful anticipation, her arms enveloping Yoongi in a tender embrace. With a loving smile, she presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Eomma, no,” Yoongi groans in mock disgust, though a playful twinkle dances in his eyes at the attention his mother showers upon him. You catch the subtle excitement in his voice, a reflection of the shared dreams you both harbor for the future. And as you exchange knowing glances, anticipation tingles in the air, as you are looking forward to all the nasty and dirty stuff you and Yoongi will be doing under the moonlight tonight.
You might just make a baby, who knows?
As you stand beside Yoongi and his mother, your attention is abruptly drawn away by the distant hum of engines. You turn to see multiple cars pulling up, their tires crunching on the grass as they park beside your parents’ vehicle. With each arrival, the air fills with a sense of excitement and anticipation, signaling the imminent gathering of loved ones to celebrate your special day.
You scan the arriving guests, and your eyes light up with delight as you spot your friends and Yoongi’s heavily pregnant sister. Despite her advanced pregnancy, she radiates a vibrant glow, her anticipation palpable in the gentle curve of her belly. You can't help but feel a surge of excitement and warmth, knowing that she’s on the brink of welcoming new life into the world.
Your gaze sweeps over the arriving cars, and your attention is snagged by one unfamiliar vehicle, its sleek silhouette contrasting with the rustic charm of the forest surroundings. A spark of excitement ignites within you as you realize that this could be the arrival of the officiator, the final piece in the puzzle of your wedding ceremony.
Your friends spill out of their cars, their laughter and excited chatter filling the air as they rush towards you and Yoongi. In a whirlwind of embraces and enthusiastic greetings, they envelop you both in a cascade of warmth and affection, their love palpable in every heartfelt hug and joyful smile.
Jimin strides in solo tonight, a vision of confidence in his sleek suit. Namjoon arrives with his date—the one he couldn’t stop texting since your vacation months ago. She exudes grace and warmth, fitting seamlessly into the group. Seokjin’s arm is wrapped protectively around his girlfriend, her gentle smile glowing despite the weight of her pregnancy. Meanwhile, Jungkook and Taehyung arrive without dates, their playful banter and laughter hinting at the unbreakable bond between them, yet leaving you curious about their romantic adventures, or lack thereof.
Surrounded by the warmth of your friends and family, your heart swells with happiness, as if it might burst from the overwhelming tide of love washing over you. Amidst the joyful chatter and laughter, your gaze falls upon Yoongi, his eyes alight with a radiant smile that seems to stretch from ear to ear, his conversation with his sister and brother-in-law a testament to the deep bonds of family and the anticipation of this special day.
As the sun begins its descent, casting a golden glow across the forest, the air seems to hum with anticipation, the vibrant hues of the surroundings intensifying under the magical embrace of the golden hour. The fairy string lights, once subtle, now twinkle like stars amidst the verdant canopy, weaving an enchanting tapestry of light and shadow that dances with the gentle breeze, infusing the atmosphere with an ethereal charm.
The officiator locks eyes with Yoongi and gives him a subtle nod, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. Your heart flutters with excitement, mingled with a hint of nervousness, as you realize that the moment you’ve been waiting for is finally here. Giddy anticipation bubbles within you, causing your palms to grow clammy with nervous energy. You fumble with the delicate lace of your dress, trying to dry your sweaty hands, your fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves.
Your friends and family settle into the chairs meticulously arranged by Yoongi, their laughter and chatter filling the air with warmth and anticipation. The chairs are nestled on the lush grass, forming a cozy circle in front of two majestic trees adorned with twinkling string lights that cast a soft, enchanting glow. As your loved ones take their seats amidst the magical ambiance, you feel a sense of unity and excitement building, like the anticipation before the opening act of a grand performance.
With a sense of solemnity, the officiator leads the way towards the towering trees, their branches adorned with twinkling lights that illuminate the gathering dusk. You and Yoongi follow closely behind, your fingers intertwined in a reassuring grip, each step echoing with the weight of anticipation and the promise of forever.
As the warm summer air envelops you, carrying the hum of insects and the symphony of nature’s song, you can’t help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you. This is your element, being embraced by the gentle caress of nature’s embrace, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the forest. With each breath, you and Yoongi are united in your love for the great outdoors, and in this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of your wedding venue, you feel more connected than ever before.
The officiator begins to address you, your loved ones, and the assembled guests, his words weave a tapestry of emotions and imagery. He speaks of the intricate journey from friendship to love, likening it to the delicate bloom of a red tulip, its vibrant petals unfurling in a display of magnificent colors. His voice resonates with tales of enduring love, reminiscent of the fairytales of old, and despite your initial skepticism, you find yourself drawn into the beauty of his words. While your own love story with Yoongi may not fit the traditional fairytale mold, there’s a raw and genuine beauty in the imperfect, real-life moments you’ve shared together.
As the officiator speaks, your gaze naturally drifts to Yoongi, his hands clasped lightly in yours. You hold him with a tenderness that belies your fears, as if he’s fragile and delicate, but deep down, you know he’s as sturdy as the roots of the trees surrounding you, built to weather any storm. It’s evident in the strength of his embrace, the gentle yet firm touch of his fingers interlocked with yours, offering silent reassurance and unwavering support.
When your eyes meet his, you’re captivated by the intense love shining in his dark chocolate brown eyes, a depth of emotion you’ve never seen before. His smile radiates warmth, softening the lines of his face and illuminating his features with a tender glow. Dressed in a sharp suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, he exudes an effortless elegance that takes your breath away, his presence commanding attention and admiration.
As the officiator begins the ceremony, the world around you fades into a soft, low buzz, like the distant hum of bees in a summer garden. Despite the faint background noise, Yoongi’s voice cuts through clearly as he recites his vows, each word carrying the weight of his love, lifting you higher than the clouds. His words wrap around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the depth of his devotion. When it’s your turn to speak, you watch the impact of your vows on Yoongi, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, his trembling lip betraying the depth of his emotion. In that moment, the love he holds for you shines brighter than any star, illuminating his handsome face with an ethereal glow.
Yoongi says ‘I do’, and a surge of exhilaration floods through you, lifting your spirits as if you could soar high into the clouds. This moment, the culmination of your deepest desires and fondest dreams, fills you with a profound sense of joy and fulfillment. For so long, you harbored secret feelings for him, uncertain if your love would ever be reciprocated. But now, as you stand on the brink of forever, you’re overwhelmed by the realization that he loves you just as fiercely. In his ‘I do’ you find the reassurance that your hearts are perfectly aligned, destined to journey through life together as one.
Yoongi’s touch is tender as he clasps your hands in his, his eyes shimmering with an unspoken vow of love and devotion. With gentle precision, he slides a golden band adorned with small, glistening crystals onto your ring finger, each delicate touch imbued with the weight of a promise that spans eternity. As the cool metal meets your skin, a rush of warmth floods through you, a tangible reminder of the enduring bond you share and the beginning of a new chapter in your love story.
A smile spreads across your face, one of those ‘I’m stupidly in love’ grins that lights up your entire being. You’re acutely aware that your expression must look utterly comical to anyone watching, but in this moment, you couldn’t care less. All that matters is the overwhelming rush of joy and adoration that fills your heart, painting your world in vibrant hues of love and happiness.
As the officiator’s gaze falls upon you, a sense of gravity settles over the scene, and you realize it’s your turn to say I do. Locking eyes with Yoongi, you feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere, as if the very air around you becomes charged with anticipation. The once bright skies darken, heavy clouds obscuring the sun, and the forest is cloaked in the earthy scent of moss. Yet, you’re unfazed by the changing nature around you, your focus solely on the man before you. With unwavering determination, you speak the final words, ‘I do,’ and as if in response to your declaration, the heavens open, showering the world with rain—a fitting testament to the intensity of your love and the power of your union.
The rain pours down in torrents, soaking you to the bone, your once-flowing dress now clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Oblivious to the chaos around you, the cacophony of your friends and family’s screams as they scramble for cover, you lock eyes with Yoongi. His long black hair is plastered to his face by the relentless downpour, and yet, there’s an undeniable joy in his laughter that mirrors your own. With a shared glance, you burst into fits of laughter, the absurdity of the situation only strengthening the bond between you. As you slide the ring onto his finger, your laughter mingles with the rhythmic patter of raindrops, a symphony of love and laughter. In that moment, as the officiator pronounces you married and grants you permission to kiss, you share a tender embrace, sealing your vows amidst the exhilarating chaos of the downpour.
And kiss you do. With an urgency born of love and longing, Yoongi leans in, his soft lips meeting yours in a tender yet passionate embrace. Despite the rain drenching you both, you can’t help but chuckle into the kiss, the warmth of his touch melting away any discomfort. As he pulls you closer, his arms enveloping your drenched form, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, binding you together in an intoxicating dance of desire. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the beat of your hearts echoing in perfect harmony. In the background, amidst the cheers and applause of your friends and family.
The kiss feels like a spell woven between you, a moment of pure magic and transcendence. It takes you back to the day when Yoongi proposed, a memory etched in your heart like a cherished melody. You recall the day vividly: Yoongi toiling away in his garage, hands stained with motor oil, yet his eyes ablaze with a passion that mirrored the fire in your own heart. It was one of those late nights, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil, as you shared takeout amidst the hum of machinery. Unbeknownst to you, he beckoned you over to the car he was working on, his intentions shrouded in mystery until the moment he kissed you—deep and fervent, igniting a flame of desire within you that threatened to consume you both. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might rip your clothes off and take you atop the very car he was fixing, the thrill of anticipation quickening your pulse. Instead, he pulled back, his eyes shimmering with unspoken love, as he uttered those life-changing words. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was quintessentially Yoongi—unexpected, sincere, and overflowing with the depth of his affection. And in that moment, as you uttered the easiest ‘yes’ of your life, you knew that your love story was destined for greatness, forged in the quiet moments of intimacy and the simple beauty of everyday life.
The rain continues to pour down, drenching you both to the bone, yet Yoongi’s kiss remains unbroken, as if time itself has stretched out to accommodate this perfect moment. Each passing second feels like an eternity, your senses heightened by the coolness of the rain and the warmth of his lips. You can feel a deep, growing desire unfurl within you, igniting a fire that burns brighter with every tender caress.
“Hey hyung! You shouldn’t stick your tongue down her throat like that, it’s gross!” Jungkook’s playful shout pierces through your passionate moment, jolting you back to reality. You reluctantly open your eyes, laughter bubbling up despite the interruption, only to lock eyes with your mother. Her expression speaks volumes, a single displeased look delivering a silent scolding that makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment. The contrast between the fiery intimacy of Yoongi’s kiss and the sudden, humorous reality check from your friends and family fills you with a mix of emotions—embarrassment, amusement, and a deep, abiding love for the man holding you close.
Yoongi pulls away gently, his hands steadying you as he straightens you up. A chuckle escapes your lips, quickly blossoming into full laughter as you realize the intensity of your kiss might have been a bit too much for your audience. The amused glances and knowing smiles from your friends and family only add to the humor of the moment, making you feel both exhilarated and slightly sheepish. The love and joy of the occasion, however, remain undiminished, as you and Yoongi share a private smile, basking in the sheer delight of your unrestrained affection.
Despite the rain, your friends and family rush towards you, their faces alight with joy and excitement as they shower you and Yoongi with heartfelt congratulations. Your parents, though expressing their initial desire for a traditional wedding, admit with warm smiles that this ceremony was uniquely beautiful and special. The mingling continues for a while, laughter and chatter filling the air, but soon, the persistent downpour compels both your parents and Yoongi’s to consider heading home.
You embrace your parents tightly, feeling the warmth of their love despite the rain. They are the first to depart, leaving behind words of encouragement and happiness. Next, you bid farewell to Yoongi’s parents. His mother, ever the tease, turns back with a mischievous smirk. “Have a lovely night. I expect grandchildren!” she calls out, her voice carrying a playful lilt. You laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, as her cheeky remark adds a final touch of joy to this unforgettable day.
And with that, they depart, their figures slowly disappearing into the misty depths of the forest. You and Yoongi are left behind, choking on your laughter, the echoes of their playful words lingering in the air. The sound of your mirth blends with the soft patter of rain and the rustling leaves, creating a symphony of joy that perfectly encapsulates the magical moment. As you watch them fade from view, a sense of serene happiness washes over you, knowing this enchanting night is just the beginning of your beautiful journey together.
Yoongi’s sister and her husband approach next, their smiles warm despite the rain. You exchange heartfelt hugs, feeling the comforting swell of family support. “Thank you so much for coming,” you say sincerely, your voice thick with emotion. They nod, their eyes shining with shared happiness, before bidding their farewells and disappearing into the misty evening.
The officiator steps forward, his eyes twinkling with genuine pleasure. “This was an absolute joy for me to officiate,” he says warmly, shaking your hand with a firm, friendly grip. “I rarely get the chance to oversee non traditional weddings, so this was truly special for me as well.” His words carry a heartfelt sincerity that touches you deeply. With a final nod and a parting smile, he bids you farewell, leaving you with a sense of profound gratitude for the unique and beautiful ceremony he helped create.
With only your friends remaining, they close in around you, a joyful swarm of affection and excitement. Their laughter and exuberant chatter fill the air, wrapping you in a warm, comforting cocoon of love and support. You feel their genuine happiness radiating towards you, each hug and congratulatory word a testament to the deep bonds you share. The moment is electric, their energy infectious, making you feel incredibly blessed to have such wonderful friends by your side on this unforgettable day.
“Did you bring your camera?” Yoongi asks Taehyung, his voice filled with hopeful anticipation. Taehyung nods enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Of course! It’s in my car,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“But do you really want pictures in this rain?” Taehyung asks, his brows furrowed in uncertainty, his concern evident in his tone. The rain continues to pour, casting a shimmering veil over the forest clearing. Despite his hesitation, there’s a glimmer of determination in Taehyung’s eyes. “My camera is weather-sealed,” he reassures, his voice tinged with resolve. “And I can always enlist Jungkook or Jimin to hold an umbrella over it, just to be safe.”
His willingness to brave the elements for the sake of capturing your special day fills you with gratitude and admiration.
“Yeah, just some shots over by that tree over there,” Yoongi muses, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a tender gesture that sends a shiver of delight down your spine. The gentle touch of his kiss elicits a soft giggle from you, the sound echoing amidst the gentle patter of raindrops. In that fleeting moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the forest, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and contentment enveloping you, binding you ever closer to the man whose presence fills your heart with joy.
“Okay,” Taehyung says with a nonchalant shrug, his excitement palpable despite his casual demeanor. The fact that Yoongi had asked him beforehand fills him with a sense of pride, evident in the way he confidently reaches for his camera. You watch as Taehyung, fueled by anticipation, turns to Jungkook, a mischievous glint in his eye as he enlists his friend’s help. With a shared grin, Jungkook readily agrees, stepping forward to be Taehyung’s trusty assistant for this impromptu photoshoot. Together, they gather the necessary equipment—a camera and an umbrella—and set off towards the designated tree, their laughter mingling with the soft patter of rain.
You don’t want to capture too many photos, just a select few to encapsulate the ethereal beauty of this rain-soaked day. Hand in hand with Yoongi, you approach the towering tree, its branches adorned with twinkling string lights that cast a soft glow against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Taehyung guides you further away from the tree, his camera poised to capture the perfect shot. With expert precision, he explains the importance of separating you from the background to achieve a stunning bokeh effect in the photos. Following his instructions, you step a few meters away, the string lights creating a halo of warmth and intimacy around you both. As twilight descends, a magical transformation takes place. The gentle hum of nature fills the air, accompanied by the soft patter of raindrops and the distant chirping of crickets. Suddenly, tiny pinpricks of light begin to dance around you, their soft glow illuminating the darkness like miniature stars. You gasp in awe as you realize that the air is alive with fireflies, their luminous presence adding an enchanting touch to the already magical atmosphere. It’s a scene straight out of a fairytale, a fleeting moment of pure, unadulterated magic that you know will be etched in your memory forever.
Taehyung presses his finger on the camera’s shutter, immortalizing the tender moments unfolding before him. First, he captures you and Yoongi standing side by side, your expressions innocent and serene. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, Yoongi leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The scene shifts as Yoongi gently turns you to face him, the world around you fading into a blur. With a sudden, passionate intensity, he captures your lips with his in a fiery kiss, the heat of it igniting every nerve in your body. Taehyung’s camera clicks rapidly, capturing each electric moment as Yoongi’s embrace tightens, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, just the shared breath and the undeniable love that burns brighter than the fairy lights around you.
Yoongi’s fingers glide to the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips leave yours, tracing a fiery path down to your throat where he kisses and sucks, leaving a deep purple mark on your skin. A groan of delight escapes your lips, your senses consumed by his touch. The world around you fades into oblivion as Yoongi’s lips travel back up to your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing against your skin. He whispers sweet nothings, painting vivid images of all the things he wants to do with you tonight, each word stoking the fire of lust and making your pulse race with desire.
Jungkook clears his throat, breaking the spell of Yoongi’s intoxicating kiss. As you reluctantly pull away, your gaze lands on Jungkook, whose cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, reminiscent of that day he accidentally walked in on you and Yoongi in the garage. The memory flashes vividly in your mind—the startled look on Jungkook’s face, the awkward shuffle of his feet, and the embarrassed apology that followed.
“I’ll only take photos of you kissing,” Taehyung huffs, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he lowers his camera. “If you want more raunchy photos, you should hire a professional.” He places the camera carefully to the side, while Jungkook, his cheeks still faintly red, lifts the umbrella higher to shield Taehyung and the equipment from the rain.
You and Yoongi both nod, a shared understanding passing between you. It’s so easy to get lost in each other’s embrace, to forget the world spinning around you. You offer a quick apology to Taehyung and Jungkook, but the sincerity is wrapped in the light-heartedness of the moment. Despite the raindrops falling around you, you all burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the patter of rain.
“But you are a professional photographer now, Tae,” you giggle, pulling Yoongi away from the tree. The rain continues to fall softly around you, creating a magical ambiance as you make your way over to the rest of your friends, who are still waiting for you with bright smiles and open arms. Yoongi squeezes your hand, and you feel a rush of warmth and happiness, knowing that this moment, surrounded by loved ones, is exactly how you imagined your special day.
“Yeah, but I don’t do that kind of photography. But I do know a guy who does amazing boudoir shoots,” he smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your eyes light up at the mention, the wheels in your brain churning with ideas. You turn towards Yoongi, your husband, a playful grin spreading across your face as you imagine the possibilities.
“Would you prefer photos of me in my wedding dress or in my wedding lingerie?” you ask, your voice a soft, teasing whisper. You notice how his pupils dilate, his breath hitching slightly, which brings a lovely, satisfied smirk to your lips. The anticipation in his eyes makes your heart race.
Jungkook scoffs and rolls his eyes, quickening his pace to escape the conversation, his discomfort evident as he strides ahead, trying to distance himself from your playful banter.
“Wedding lingerie?” His voice comes out raspy, almost strangled, as if the very thought has taken his breath away.
“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you, your heart beating faster with every step closer to your friends. You squeeze his hand in yours, feeling the warmth of his touch anchoring you in the moment, while the smiles of your friends awaiting you ahead fill you with a sense of joy and anticipation.
“Are you wearing it right now?” he asks, his gaze trailing over your body with a hunger that makes your skin tingle. It’s as if he could see through the layers of your wedding dress, his eyes sparking with curiosity and desire.
You chuckle, feeling a playful surge of excitement as you bounce in front of him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a coy smile, you purse your lips and quip, “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” Your words are laced with anticipation, leaving him intrigued and eager for what’s to come.
Taehyung’s chuckle ripples through the air behind you, rich with amusement, while Jungkook emits a soft sound of discomfort, his unease palpable in the subtle shift of his stance.
“You can give me that photographer's contact info later, right Tae?”
You hear Yoongi’s voice behind you, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of excitement. It makes you chuckle softly, surprised yet pleased by his interest in the idea. You hadn’t been sure if he would entertain the thought of such intimate photos of you. But as his words sink in, a warmth spreads through you, and you’re filled with a newfound eagerness. You’ve always been curious about boudoir photography, and the idea of exploring it with him fills you with anticipation.
You finally catch up with the rest of your friends, who immediately turn their attention to you and Yoongi, their faces lighting up with big, joyous smiles. The warmth and love radiating from them wrap around you like a comforting blanket, and you can feel the excitement and happiness in the air as they welcome you with open arms and congratulatory cheers.
“This wedding is a celebration of love in its purest form,” Namjoon begins, his gaze sweeping over the enchanting forest setting. The fairy lights twinkle in the dusk, casting a magical glow over the scene. You can see the admiration in his eyes, knowing he envisions a similar backdrop for his own wedding someday. With his deep love for nature, this setting, with its lush greenery and serene ambiance, is indeed the perfect venue.
“Thank you for inviting us,” he adds, a big smile spreading across his lips as he pulls his girlfriend into his embrace and plants a tender kiss on her forehead. Watching them, you can’t help but think how incredibly adorable they look together, their affection radiating a warmth that adds to the magic of the evening.
“Of course. We’re just so thrilled to have everyone here to celebrate this special day with us. You’re welcome to stay if you want—sleep under the stars like we did on vacation,” you quip, a big smile lighting up your face. Your eyes glisten with the fond memories of those three magical months, filled with laughter and unforgettable adventures with your friends.
Jungkook is the first to look away, clearing his throat but remaining silent. Jimin, however, turns to you with a playful smirk plastered on his face. “We didn’t bring any tents with us, sorry,” he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Seokjin chimes in with a knowing smile, “We need to sleep at home, closer to the hospital, you know, just in case we go into labor. Can’t risk it out here.” His hand gently rests on his partner’s belly, and you can see the mix of excitement and nervousness in his eyes.
His girlfriend shoots him a stern look, “I’m the one going into labor. Me. I’ll be doing all the pushing and stuff while you just sit and observe.” She scoffs slightly, her irritation clear as she places her fisted hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and determination.
“What? Do you think I’ll just sit and watch you give birth? No, no. I’ll hold your hand, your thigh, whatever you need, love,” Seokjin breathes, rushing over to reassure his pregnant girlfriend. The moment his hands rest on her stomach, you see her shoulders relax and a hint of a smile touches her lips. His touch seems to melt away her irritation, and the love between them is palpable, a beautiful testament to their bond.
You smile, savoring the moments when you observe your friends with their partners. It reminds you of how grand and sweet love can be, or how it can bring laughter with its quirks. Your heart swells with affection as you watch Seokjin and his girlfriend banter playfully. Their lighthearted exchange makes you chuckle, resonating deeply and reminding you of the delightful dynamic you share with Yoongi.
“We have some spare tents in Holly that you can use,” Yoongi quickly interjects, pulling you closer with a firm yet gentle grip on your hips. His touch sends a warm shiver through you, grounding you in the moment and making you feel cherished. You lean into his embrace, smiling as you think about how considerate he always is.
Taehyung swiftly stows his camera away in his car, sheltering it from the relentless downpour, before rejoining the group. He inserts himself into the conversation with a playful yet teasing tone. “Look, we just don’t want to hear you have sex again, thank you very much,” he quips, his expression a mix of amusement and mock exasperation.
You shoot a wide-eyed glance at the guys, their cheeks flushing with vivid hues of embarrassment, vividly recalling the escapades from your vacation days. Your own ears burn crimson with the memories flooding back, a mixture of nostalgia and amusement swirling within you.
“Yes, it’s probably for the best, yeah,” your words tumble out in a nervous chuckle, accompanied by a nod of agreement. The memory of past escapades tinges your cheeks with a hint of embarrassment. Deep down, you're relieved by their decision, grateful to avoid any repeat performances in front of your friends. Their words resonate, striking a chord of truth, and you find yourself conceding to their wisdom.
Jimin sidles up to you, enveloping you in a warm embrace, while your fingers remain intertwined with Yoongi’s.
“It’s your wedding night. You should get to enjoy it unrestricted, you know what I mean?”
His voice is a hushed whisper against your ear, igniting a blush that creeps across your cheeks. Oh, you understand his meaning all too well. After all, he was the one who lent a hand in selecting your wedding lingerie. In that moment, you’re struck by a surge of gratitude for your loyal confidant — your ultimate ride or die. Next to Yoongi, of course; he holds a special place in your heart.
Jimin extricates himself from the embrace, and you catch the familiar glint of disapproval in Yoongi’s gaze. It’s a look he often wears, a silent protest against the closeness he perceives between you and Jimin. But there’s no cause for concern; Yoongi needn’t fear. Your affection for Jimin is pure and platonic, a bond woven with the threads of years of friendship and trust. Yet, you can’t help but wonder if Yoongi sees something you don’t, something lurking beneath the surface of your friendship.
Jimin then sidles over to Yoongi, enveloping him in a snug embrace, his lips moving in a hushed murmur that escapes your ears. Whatever secret message Jimin imparts seems to evoke a predictable response from Yoongi—a roll of the eyes accompanied by Jimin’s infectious laughter, a silent exchange that speaks volumes of their friendship.
“Time to head back,” Jimin announces, gently guiding your friends towards their awaiting cars. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to enjoy their first night as a married couple in peace.” His laughter ripples through the air, a contagious melody that makes you chuckle.
As they make their way to their cars, each of your friends pauses to envelop you in warm hugs and heartfelt congratulations, their genuine affection palpable in the air. With bittersweet smiles, you wave them off, watching their cars disappear into the distance.
You pivot toward Yoongi, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Now that we’ve got the whole forest to ourselves,” you say, a playful lilt in your voice, “what’s your pleasure?”
Yoongi’s smirk widens as he raises a suggestive eyebrow, raindrops still clinging to his skin and clothes. “What do you think I want to do?” he teases, his voice low and inviting.
“Get in the van, babe,” he adds, his tone hinting at a world of thrilling possibilities.
Excitement and arousal surge through your body like an electric charge as you stride towards Holly, your hand eagerly grasping the handle as you step inside, ready for whatever adventures await with Yoongi by your side.
Yoongi follows you eagerly, the click of the door shutting behind him echoing the finality of the moment. With a soft sigh, you sink into the cozy embrace of the makeshift bed, the anticipation of the night ahead palpable in the air.
You lay down on the bed, smirking up at Yoongi as you lick your lips, trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in his mind. You wonder how he wants to take you, what he plans to do tonight. One thing is certain—you know exactly what you want to do to him.
Yoongi hovers over the bed, looking down at you with dark pools of lust in his eyes. Your gaze drops, catching sight of the bulge in his pants, and a soft, seductive chuckle escapes your lips.
“You’re already getting hard,” you breathe, your voice feather-light. The thought of having him in your hand, or even taking him deep into your mouth, sends a shiver of anticipation through you.
He grunts, “What did you expect? Now strip so I can see that lingerie, babe.” His voice is rough with desire, sending a thrill down your spine.
You laugh wholeheartedly, the sound echoing in the intimate space, because that is so Yoongi. You know the thought of your lingerie has probably been driving him wild since you hinted at wearing it.
With a teasing smile, you rise from the bed and stand tall before him, well, not taller, but still. Holding his gaze, you let your hands travel to your back, finding the zipper and pulling it down slowly. The sound fills the van, and you see Yoongi’s brow twitching, his anticipation evident. He's probably doing all he can to resist the urge to ravish you right then and there.
You let your wedding dress cascade off your frame, sliding down your hips and pooling around your feet. Yoongi’s expression is priceless; his adoration for you is unmistakable, his lust palpable in the way his lips curl into a smile and his eyes unabashedly roam over your body. You bask in his gaze, loving every second of it. Your hands find their way to your breasts, groping and pressing them together. “Do you like it?” you ask, mirroring his earlier question, batting your eyelashes at him with a feigned innocence that you both know is far from the truth.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just stands there, taking you in. His eyes roam over your white lingerie set, lingering on the lacy bra that’s sheer enough to reveal the darker hue of your nipples. Delicate strings extend from the cups, winding over your shoulders and around your waist, accentuating every curve. You’re wearing a white lace g-string to match, barely covering anything, and to complete the look, a suspender belt holds up a pair of white lacy stockings. His silence speaks volumes, the heat in his gaze making you feel more desired than ever.
You chuckle softly, the sound filling the silence as he remains speechless, mesmerized by the sight of you. The power you feel in this moment is intoxicating, knowing you have him utterly captivated. Your eyes sweep over him, taking in every detail, and you lick your lips slowly, savoring the anticipation. Your mind races with wicked ideas of how you can tease him further, heightening the delicious tension between you.
“There’s a wet patch on your pants, Yoon,” you purr, closing the distance between you. Leaning in, you whisper into his ear, your breath hot and tantalizing. Your right hand glides down to his crotch, cupping his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat and firmness beneath your touch.
“Speechless?” you tease, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. His response is a low, guttural grunt, and you smile, knowing you have him right where you want him. With a subtle increase in pressure, your hand caresses his cock through his pants, relishing in the power you hold over him.
“Gonna suck your dick, Yoon,” you whisper seductively, your voice dripping with desire. “Gonna make you come down my throat. You can make me choke on your cock. Then you can fill up my pussy, maybe get me pregnant, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Each word is laced with a potent mix of passion and anticipation, igniting a fiery hunger between you both.
You feel a surge of empowerment, like a femme fatale in control of her prey—savoring every moment of rendering him speechless. Damn, you enjoy it way too much. It makes you soak your panties. The anticipation ignites a wildfire of desire within you, causing your senses to heighten. You can practically feel the electric tension crackling in the air as you drop down to your knees, a siren of seduction ready to unleash your desires upon him.
With a swift and practiced motion, your hands move with purpose, deftly unzipping his dress pants and pulling them down, along with his underwear, revealing the object of your desire in all its glory.
His dick springs free, a tantalizing sight that never fails to ignite desire within you. You revel in its presence, appreciating its length and girth, knowing how perfectly it fits you and the pleasure it promises. In this moment, with his dick before you, you feel a surge of ownership and longing, your heart racing with a potent blend of love and lust, knowing that it’s now exclusively yours to enjoy.
You take hold of him, your fingers wrapping around his dick, and you give him a slow, deliberate stroke, feeling him pulse in response to your touch. Then, with a teasing smile dancing on your lips, you lower your head and flick your tongue across the sensitive tip, savoring the way he shudders with raw desire at your touch.
Your gaze meets his, a facade of innocence masking the minx within, especially when it comes to him. You lock eyes, finding his already lost in ecstasy, as you trail your tongue along his cock, savoring the way his breath catches and he bites down on his lower lip, unable to contain his desire.
“I want to hear you, Yoon. And I want you to fuck my mouth. I’ll let you know if it’s too rough, okay?” You don't wait for a response; his stunned silence tells you all you need to know.
You take him fully in your mouth in one smooth motion, your hand gripping the base of his shaft firmly.
You take him deep, your mouth accommodating his full length as you breathe rhythmically through your nose, ready to embark on your task. Working your mouth back and forth along his shaft, you elicit low, primal sounds from him. His fingers thread through your hair, anchoring you as you establish a steady, deliberate rhythm.
You ensure to maintain eye contact with him, locking gazes as you work your magic. His intense stare reflects his captivation with you, every movement you make drawing him deeper into the moment. Swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, you create a vacuum, engulfing him in a whirlwind of sensation. He tightens his grip on your hair, emitting a primal hiss of pleasure, lost in the ecstasy you provide.
You take him deeper, pushing past the boundaries of your comfort to savor every inch of him. As he brushes against the back of your throat, you battle your gag reflex, determined to accommodate him fully. Finally, your nose nestles into his soft curls, and the heady scent of him envelops you. A primal moan escapes your lips, unleashing a torrent of arousal that courses through your veins, igniting every nerve ending in a frenzy of desire.
You maintain a steady rhythm, your lips and tongue caressing him with a practiced finesse. Yet, as your jaw begins to protest and your throat yearns for respite, you glance up at him, silently begging him to take control. Your eyes implore him, a silent plea for release, while a gentle tap on his thigh conveys your need for a change in pace.
“Damn,” he finally speaks, his voice hoarse with desire. Running a hand through his tousled black locks, he gazes at you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You look so perfect like this,” he continues, his fingers tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek. “With my cock in your mouth. Let me take over, babe.”
Relief washes over you as you relinquish control, allowing yourself a moment to simply savor the feeling of his dick between your lips, the weight of him against your tongue. It’s a welcome reprieve, a chance to lose yourself in the pure physicality of the moment.
With a firm grip on your hair, he sets a rhythm, each thrust pushing deeper into your eager mouth. Your jaw slackens, welcoming him eagerly as he moves with a primal urgency that ignites a fire within you. The intensity of his movements sends shivers down your spine— rough and fast.
Panting, he murmurs, “You in that lingerie set are really doing something to me,” his words punctuated by the force of his thrusts, each one harder and more desperate than the last.
Your eyes begin to water, but the overwhelming pleasure makes you love every second of it.
His breath comes in ragged pants as he locks eyes with you. “That suspender belt on your waist… you must be trying to kill me, because, fuck,” he groans. Sweat begins to form at his hairline, and the sight of his damp white shirt clinging to his skin makes him look utterly sinful.
“I want to fuck you wearing that so bad, babe,” he groans, his voice heavy with desire. You feel him twitch in your mouth and respond by suctioning your cheeks tighter around him, humming softly to intensify his pleasure.
It makes him shudder, and you can tell he’s close. Just a bit more, and you’ll have him spilling down your throat, you’re sure of it.
“Shit, I’m gonna come. I can’t hold back with you looking at me like that,” he groans, your name falling from his lips as he spills inside your mouth. Your hands grip his hips tighter, feeling him pulse as he thrusts a few more times, making sure you take every drop.
It tastes salty, just as always, but you savor it like a fine wine. When he finally pulls out, you make sure to show him your tongue, every drop swallowed, a wicked smile playing on your lips.
“Such a good girl,” he praises, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, your panties already soaked, the wetness likely trailing down your thighs.
“Yoongi, I love you,” you gasp, breathless, your hand brushing away the tears that had escaped while he fucked your mouth.
“I love you too,” he murmurs tenderly, his hand cradling your jaw before his fingers trace lightly over your lips. “Come on. Get up and get back on the bed.”
You nod, a shiver running down your spine as you comply. Rising from your position on the floor, you crawl over to the bed and settle yourself down, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.
Yoongi steps out of his pants with fluid grace, tossing his shoes aside before shedding his blazer and pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his naked form. You’re captivated by him, every inch of his body resonating with an irresistible allure. His skin, its familiar pale hue, speaks of hours spent indoors tinkering with cars, sculpting his lean physique with just a hint of muscle, a testament to his dedication and hard work.
As Yoongi draws near, he takes your feet in his hands, removing your heels with a gentle tug and allowing them to drop to the floor.
“What do you want, babe? I’ll give you everything,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with tender affection, awaiting your heart's deepest longing.
“I want to have your babies. Like we talked about. I want that future with you,” you confess, your voice trembling with anticipation, your body arching towards him, showing him just how wet you are, a silent invitation for him to claim you completely.
“Oh, babe. You know I want that too. It will be a moment before I’m ready to go again,” he murmurs, his hand moving to your leg, his touch sending shivers down your spine as his fingertips trace patterns of intimacy on your skin, making goosebumps appear.
“Just touch me. I want your hands all over my body, please, Yoon,” you plead, your eyes locking with his, your voice a soft melody of longing, your lip quivering as you await his touch.
He traces the map of your skin with a feather-light touch, igniting a trail of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. As his fingers dance closer to the apex of your pussy, you hold your breath, yearning for his touch, but he tantalizingly skirts past, teasingly exploring every inch of your being before finally reaching your breasts.
“Your boobs are so perky,” he murmurs, his touch tracing the delicate contours of your bra, coaxing your nipples to a tantalizing peak.
“No, they’re not,” you pout, feeling your pussy tighten and your body quiver in response to his touch.
“Don’t speak ill of your body. You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a soft murmur against your skin as he gropes your breasts, his thumb tracing tantalizing circles around your nipples. Your heart races, torn between the desire for him to take you now and the intoxicating thrill of the teasing.
“And now you’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in darkness and possessiveness, thick with lust, sending shivers down your spine.
You chuckle softly, a playful glint in your eyes. “I was yours long before we said ‘I do.’ Marriage didn’t change that, you know?”
He chuckles softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine, yet his eyes hold yours, intense and full of promise. “Oh, I know,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over your skin. “But now I have a piece of paper that says you’re mine and mine alone.”
You ask with a playful giggle, shifting closer into his touch. “Yoongi, are you possessive?” It’s more a statement than a question; you already know the answer. He’s likely the most possessive guy you’ve ever met, but it’s a quality you adore, one that ignites a wild, untamed energy within you.
“You know I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” he murmurs, locking his gaze with yours. The intensity in his eyes makes you wonder if he’s truly afraid of losing you, even though he shouldn’t be. You’ve loved him for so many years, most of them spent in denial, but they still count. His possessiveness only reassures you of the depth of his feelings, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“You know I’d never leave you, right?” you whisper, your voice filled with unwavering devotion and the weight of all the years you’ve shared, your eyes searching his for the reassurance you know you don’t need but crave to give.
“Hmmm, yes I know. You love me and my big cock too much,” he laughs, glancing down as his dick twitches back to life.
“God, you’re so full of yourself,” you roll your eyes, only to moan as he pinches your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “But I guess it’s okay when you can back it up.”
“And yes, I love you,” you purr, your voice dripping with desire. “Now show me why I can’t get enough of that big cock of yours. I’m so wet already, Yoongi. Touch me,” you plead, spreading your legs even wider, a desperate invitation for his touch.
He licks his lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Then get on your hands and knees and lift that gorgeous ass for me, love.”
You shudder, anticipation coursing through you as you turn around and lift your hips, presenting yourself just the way he likes.
His hands glide over the curve of your ass, sending shivers through your body. His fingers find the straps of your suspenders, tugging them taut before releasing them to snap back against your skin. The sharp slap makes you hiss in pleasure, each stinging contact like a playful spank that only fuels your arousal, leaving you wetter by the second.
He does it again, and this time, a needy moan escapes your lips, the sound of it echoing through the van and blending with the rhythmic patter of rain outside.
You feel his hard cock press against your ass, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. The thought of him entering you, filling you completely, drives you wild with desire. You crave it, crave him, more than anything.
He seizes the suspenders once more, pulling them taut, their snap against your skin echoing in the confined space of the van, a sharp punctuation to the electric tension between you.
Fuck. You’re probably dripping on the sheets now.
With precision, he adjusts his position behind you, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he shifts your panties to the side, his fingers tracing the curves of your ass before the tantalizing sensation of his dick against your folds sends shivers down your spine.
“Down,” he purrs, his voice low and commanding, as he presses your back and head into the sheets with the firmness of his strong hand, igniting a primal thrill that courses through your veins.
You comply, sinking into the plush sheets, your anticipation mounting as you feel his cock teasing against your slick folds, yet he doesn’t yield to the sweet surrender of penetration.
With each powerful thrust, his hands firm on your hips, you feel the friction igniting a wildfire of need between you, his desire branding your skin with each passionate press.
“Fuck. You look so pretty in this. So sexy,” every movement sends ripples of pleasure through you, his words adding fuel to the fire of arousal burning within. His praise ignites a fierce longing, amplifying the intensity of every thrust against your folds, like he was fucking into you.
Desire courses through you like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought in its wake. The sensation of his fervent thrusts against your skin is intoxicating, yet beneath the surface, a primal yearning gnaws at your core, demanding to be sated with the ultimate union of your bodies.
Surging waves of pleasure crash over you, catching you off guard as your senses reel from the approaching climax. His name escapes your lips in ragged breaths, a fervent prayer whispered into the fabric of the sheets as ecstasy dances on the precipice of release.
As his tip brushes against your sensitive nub, a wave of ecstasy washes over you, eliciting a throaty moan of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, the intensity of sensation sending shivers down your spine. Every nerve ending ignites with desire, leaving you breathless and craving more. Fuck. Why does it feel this good? The question lingers in your mind, lost amidst the whirlwind of bliss.
“Do you think you can come like this?” His voice is a sultry whisper, laden with anticipation, as he plunges deeper onto your pussy. With each forceful thrust against your throbbing clit and slick folds, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy.
You clamp down on your lip, fighting back the wave of pleasure that threatens to engulf you completely.
Through a choked sob, you manage to gasp out a breathless affirmation, your voice trembling with anticipation and need. “Yes,” you confess, your admission punctuated by the primal rhythm of his thrusts, each one pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy.
Every nerve in your body hums with a delicious tension, coiled tight like a spring ready to burst. With each electrifying touch, each tantalizing thrust, you teeter on the edge of oblivion, your senses ablaze with the promise of release. You’re on the brink, trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, and you know it won’t take much more for him to send you spiraling into blissful chaos.
“I’m already close,” you gasp, your voice a breathless plea, heavy with need and desire.
That admission ignites a fire within Yoongi, prompting him to alter his rhythm, trading speed for slow deliberate, powerful thrusts.
Fuck! His cock now pounds against your clit with even more intensity, sending waves of exquisite sensation coursing through you. It’s almost unbearable. It feels fucking delicious and you can’t take it anymore.
The moment is so intense, and you cry out his name as pleasure washes over you, without his skilled fingers or tongue touching you. It’s mind-blowing.
“Good girl,” his words of praise rain down on you like a soothing melody, even as he continues his slower thrusts, allowing you to savor the waves of your orgasm that leave you trembling with desire.
“Fuck, Yoongi. That was amazing, I—,”
You’re cut off as Yoongi slowly eases his length into your entrance, the sensation of stretch mingling with pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. It’s intoxicatingly good, so utterly delicious, causing your fingers to clench around the sheets in a desperate grip.
“Fuck!” you pant, each inch he pushes in sending tremors of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending with a feverish intensity of lust.
“Shit, you’re always so tight. And taking me so well,” he praises you, his voice husky with desire as your body responds, your inner muscles clenching around him in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy, eliciting a deep, primal moan from him.
When he’s finally fully in, you feel a rush of relief flood through you, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His hands roam your ass with a possessive hunger, seeking out the suspenders once more. As he pulls on them, the satisfying slap against your skin sends a jolt of delight through you, causing you to instinctively clench around him, eager for more.
“You really like that huh?” he chuckles, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and desire, “I do too. Seeing you like this, feeling you react to me—it’s intoxicating.”
“Yes! Just fuck me, Yoongi. I need you, I want you. Fill me up. Fuck me good and make me yours,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire, each word punctuated by the heat of the moment.
“What my wife wants, she’ll get. You can count on that, love. I’ll fuck you good, don’t worry,” he reassures you with a firm pat on your back before plunging into you with renewed intensity, his movements becoming faster and harder with each thrust.
You moan uncontrollably, the sound escaping you in a crescendo of pleasure, unabashedly indulging in the obscenity of your own desire as he drives you to the brink with his relentless and skillful thrusts.
As he strikes that tender spot deep within you, a surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering you utterly powerless to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, each thrust opening you up to a realm of bliss.
“Shit, I’m happy that I’ve already come, otherwise I’d be done for already,” he gasps, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives himself deeper into you, each thrust a symphony of raw desire and primal need.
Your relief mirrors his own, knowing that this time together will stretch out deliciously, allowing you to savor every moment of his passion. The anticipation builds within you, a craving to witness every expression, every twitch of pleasure on his face.
“Yoongi, please, I wanna see your face while you fuck me,” you plead, yearning to lock eyes with him as he thrusts into you. You strain to turn your head, craving the connection, the intimacy of sharing this moment with him, body and soul.
He pauses, withdrawing his cock from you momentarily, his breaths heavy with anticipation. “Then flip over, love,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise, “Lie on your back, so I can see your face too as I make you mine.”
You comply, following his command eagerly, turning over and settling onto your back, legs parted invitingly. As he approaches, his dick in hand, slick with your essence, your anticipation heightens, every nerve alight with the promise of his touch.
“You look so gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as he guides his cock back into your pussy, each inch a testament to the intensity of your connection. A soft moan escapes your lips, his name a melody of pleasure on your tongue, as you revel in the ecstasy of his touch.
In this intimate position, you relish the opportunity to witness his unraveling, to see every expression of pleasure etched across his face as he reaches the pinnacle of ecstasy. When he finally succumbs to the waves of climax, it’s a sight that steals your breath away, one of the best in this world.
As he fills you up to the brim, a surge of affection floods through you, reflected in the warmth of your smile. With deliberate patience, he establishes a rhythm that's both tender and intense, each deliberate movement igniting a firestorm of sensation within you. The tantalizing dance of his hips against yours is almost torturous in its exquisite pleasure.
“You’re so handsome, Yoon,” you praise him, your voice a breathless whisper. “The way you’re making love to me right now… Fuck, it’s so good, I love it.”
You feel him twitch inside you, a subtle sign that he might not last as long as he thinks he will. A smirk dances across your lips, silently daring him to prove you wrong.
He descends to kiss you, the connection between your lips deep and passionate, matching the rhythm of his slow thrusts. The intimacy of the moment envelops you, igniting a fiery passion within. As he trails down to your neck, his kisses turn into playful nibbles, then a light bite, accompanied by a low, guttural groan of pleasure.
As his movements become more erratic, you sense his dick twitching more, prompting you to inquire, “Are you getting close again, Yoon?”
His voice, husky and filled with desire, caresses your ear as he murmurs your name, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes smoldering with lust. “Not yet,” he breathes, his words sending a shiver down your spine.
His eyes rove over your body as his hands follow suit, moving to your breasts. He tugs at the lace, pulling the cups and bra up to expose your bare skin, wanting to see you fully, unobstructed by the fabric.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing over your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of pleasure cascading through you.
With a teasing pinch of your nipples, he makes you hiss his name in pleasure, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips as he rolls his hips into you.
He moves down again, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making you arch your back in delight. He swirls his tongue around the bud before sucking hard, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
The knot in your stomach tightens, the sensation building rapidly. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge, almost ready to be pulled under, but not quite there yet.
“Fuck, Yoon. I’m so close,” you pant, your hands tangling in his black hair. You tug, making him release your nipple with a groan.
“What do you need?” he asks, his voice dripping with desire and affection.
“Touch my clit,” you pant, desperate and so fucking close, craving his touch to push you over the edge and come around his cock.
Before he sits back up, he leans in to kiss you deeply, then his hand finds your clit, teasing it lightly before tugging at the swollen nub. As his dick hits your soft spot, the pleasure intensifies, and you know you’re on the brink of coming, seeing stars with every thrust.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into your pussy. His fingers work your clit with vigor, perfectly synchronized with his thrusts. The light pressure on your clit is just right, deep enough to make you shudder, your toes curling in pure delight.
“Yoon!” you warn him, feeling your body tighten in response to his touch. Then, like a coiled spring released, you cream his cock, his fingers still swirling slow circles on your clit.
You pant for air, your body thrashing on the bed, but Yoongi, skilled and attentive, steadies you somewhat with his other hand.
“So pretty. You’re leaking,” Yoongi murmurs, his gaze fixed on the point where your bodies are joined. You sense his appreciation for the sight, the way his eyes trace the path of his cock disappearing into you. Damn, you love seeing it too, and his fascination with your joined bodies sends a thrill through you. You can only imagine the mesmerizing image below, your cum dripping out of you while he continues to fuck into you.
Your pussy pulsates around his dick, a rhythm of its own, coaxing a deep, primal sound from his lips as he spills his seed inside your warm, welcoming depths, filling you up with each pulse of his release.
“Shit, sorry,” he pants, his grip on your left leg tightening slightly as he adjusts his position, his breath hot against your skin.
You shake your head, a grin spreading across your lips. “Don’t apologize for not warning me, Yoon. I don’t care. You can come where and whenever you want.” Your words are laced with desire, your voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver down his spine.
You pull him down into your chest, enveloping him in the warmth of your embrace, his head resting against the softness of your breasts, while you feel a mixture of yours and his liquid seep out of you.
Yoongi breathes hard, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his exertion, his ear pressed against your chest, soaking in the comforting cadence of your heartbeat.
“Damn. It hit harder the second time. Caught me off guard,” he chuckles against your chest, his voice husky and tinged with fatigue, a testament to the intensity of your shared passion.
“Don’t worry,” you murmur, your hands soothingly tracing patterns on his back, eliciting a shiver from him that resonates within you as you feel him twitch slightly inside your pussy.
You don’t want him to pull away from you yet, so you hold him close, relishing in the intoxicating blend of his musky and sweaty scent enveloping you.
“Thank you, Yoongi. For marrying me, for loving me,” you start, your voice heavy with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes, each word carrying the weight of years of pining, love from afar and all the moments you’ve shared with him.
He adjusts himself, his gaze locking with yours, “I should be the one thanking you. For loving me, for marrying me. For putting up with all my shit over the years.” His words carry a mix of gratitude and sincerity, a testament to the depth of his appreciation for your unwavering support and enduring love.
You chuckle softly, your eyes shimmering with affection. “Thank you for making today magical. With the twinkling lights and all the little surprises you had in store. You truly are the sweetest.” Your words are tender, carrying a warmth that reflects the depth of your appreciation for his thoughtfulness and effort.
With a soft smile, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.
As he draws back, his gaze sparkles with boundless affection, warming your heart and coaxing a smile from your lips in response.
“Where will our adventure take us for our honeymoon?” you inquire, drawing him close for another tender kiss, eager to embark on this new journey together.
“I’ve already booked it. You’ll wait and see, it’s a surprise” he declares with a grin, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. You’re left wondering if it’s a tropical paradise with sandy beaches or a lush, verdant haven tucked away in nature’s embrace.
Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow @jeonsbabygirlsworld
Did you like it??? Are you excited for where they’re going on their honeymoon? 🥹
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#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#yoongi smut#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi smut#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#myg x you#myg x reader#myg fic#myg smut#bts fic#bts fan fic#bts fanfiction#bts fanfction#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts smut fic#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fic#bangtan x you#bangtan x reader#bangtan fluff
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dress - VETTEL
pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)
summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise
authors note: i have had this idea on my mind for SO LONG so im very pleased to finally be writing it. essentially in this, yn is taylor and seb is joe but no one has ever seen him nor know his name, if that makes sense? honestly i have no clue how this will turn out but i needed to write it
authors note 2: this is set in the midnights era however i switched the songs a bit so ‘dress’ is on midnights instead of ‘sweet nothing’ and vice versa!! also ‘dress’ is going to be a single. i also apologize for how all over the place this is, especially the tweets
authors note 3: just pretend whatever says taylor swift says your name and the photos with her hands have a wedding ring!! i also got so confused when trying to screenshot the twitter stuff so the timeline ones are backwards
authors note 4??: haha didnt realise there was a 30 pic limit... pt 2 here :)
masterlist
ynupdates
liked by user3, user18 and 10,628 others
yn on her story today, possibly posting song lyrics! thoughts?
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user3: NEW ERA INCOMING
user18: OH I AM SO READY FOR THIS
user13: NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC
user66: is this hinting at her reputation era?
user13: i was just thinking this, more specifically the time just before reputation
user72: MUSIC ABOUT LOVER?? OH I AM SO HERE FOR IT
user55: if it is about lover and the time before reputation this will BREAK ME like,, HE SAW THE BEST IN HER EVEN IN HER WORST TIMES😭😭
yourusername
liked by gracieabrams, ynupdates, olliebearman and 7,277,739 others
everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…
this album has been such a rewarding piece to create and im so glad that soon enough you will all be able to listen and enjoy it with me! one thing i love in particular about this album is the song ‘dress’
dress was originally a piece i started to write when making reputation however i felt it was right to keep it to myself, to keep it between my partner and i for a little while longer. however recently our lives have been changing for the better, and while that lid of privacy will still be on, i want to share more with you guys
you have all been on this journey with me and you have treated my partner and i with the upmost respect and for that i thank you. for me dress is a letter, its statement, its a declaration of my love for him and im very grateful to be able to give this to you all
this song is one im very proud of, i really enjoyed writing this the first time, and getting to revist and polish it up felt very special to do.
dress out now on all platforms🖤
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sebupdates
liked by user34, user5, user88 and 23,683 others
seb in suzuka with the grid at his turn 2 bee (insect) hotels,, we've missed seeing him at the track :(
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user3: of course the grid come together for him :’)
user5: im not crying!! just hay fever!!
user5: oh i have missed him SO MUCH
user7: NO BECAUSE YOU DONT GET IT HES BACK
user88: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VIDEO OF HIM HUGGING CHARLES😭😭
user34: the way he was like a teacher throughout the whole thing😭
user18: does anyone know if hes staying the whole weekend or is it like monaco??
sebupdates: we believe hes staying the whole weekend but unsure if hes with a team or not!
user18: ok thank you :)
user77: the way the first thing lewis asked him was if his wife was okay, oh what if i cry😭😭
user66: im kind of new here, have the grid met sebs wife?
user77: i know they all at least know about her and know who she is, i dont think everyone has met her but i know lewis has met her quite a bit!!
part 2!
#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#f1 social media au#social media au#formula 1 insta au#formula 1 social media au#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel#★ famous seb#f1 insta au
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Surprise…?
Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: luke gets hurt during a game
notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩
request: can you do a post on luke Hughes getting badly injured the game at umich and both older brothers are there and get worried over him and major fluff
i strayed away a bit from the michigan aspect because i don’t feel comfy writing about college hockey players, so i changed it up a bit. i hope you still enjoy!! 🫶🏼
[3.3k]
~
There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.
As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.
“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.
Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.
“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.
“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”
You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.
In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.
“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.
“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.
Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.
“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.
“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.
The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.
You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.
You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet. You wondered if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.
Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.
Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.
The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.
“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.
“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.
“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.
“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”
Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.
Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.
As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.
With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.
What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.
You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.
Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.
You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.
Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.
“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.
“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”
The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.
You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.
“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”
All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.
“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.
You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.
“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.
You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.
You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.
“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.
You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.
“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.
“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.
“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.
“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out,” you shudder at the memory. “It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked,” his tone apologetic. “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two or three games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.
“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.
“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.
Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.
“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.
Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.
“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”
“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.
“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.
“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.
“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.
“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.
Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.
“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”
“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.
Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.
“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.
“You did this?” You look over at Luke, nearly eye level with him, even though he’s laying on the table beside you.
“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.
“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.
“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.
“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.
“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.
“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.
“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.
“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.
“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.
“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”
“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.
“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.
#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes oneshot#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes#hughes brothers#lh43#new jersey devils#hockey#nhl blurb#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl oneshot
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How to get your life together : a guide
1) Make a list of goals you want to achieve, if you don’t you’re going to forget about them. It could be yearly goals, it could be monthly goals or both (even better). Just write them down and put them somewhere you can see them every day. Also don’t forget about the smart rule :
Specific (simple, sensible, significant).
Measurable (meaningful, motivating).
Achievable (agreed, attainable).
Relevant (reasonable, realistic and resourced, results-based).
Time bound (time-based, time limited, time/cost limited, timely, time-sensitive).
2) Choose habits that will lead your towards your goals. You want to be at the top of your class ? Start by actually completing your homework, assignments and by paying attention in class. You want strong and healthy hair ? Stop using heat every day and start a hair care routine. Yes, it is that simple trust me.
3) Start adding those habits to your daily life and be realistic. For example, if you want to achieve your dream body start exercising and eating healthy. You want to keep those achievable and enjoyable : if you used to never step away from your couch for too long, you are not going to exercise 5 times a week right away. Start small, start with maybe twice a week and then add more when you feel ready.
4) Stop making excuses. You cannot reach your goals if you find excuses to stay home and do nothing such as « I will start on Monday » or « I am a bit tired today so I’ll just rest ». Don’t, if you really are motivated you will start right now and won’t skip your workout. The less you do, the less you wanna do.
5) Remind yourself why you wanna reach those goals and motivate yourself. You cannot solely rely on motivation, you have to create it yourself. Make vision boards of you dream life and ask yourself why you want to get out of your actual situation. If you already feel miserable and lazy in your every day life it won’t hurt to at least try, right ?
6) Enjoy the steps. That one is the most important. If you feel like completing a workout is torture, you will last a week or two tops. If doing your skin care or a daily walk feels boring, you will stop doing it. Try making those interesting by watching a movie or listening a podcast at the same time, find a workout you’re actually able to enjoy.
7) Finally : enjoy your results. If you’ve kept up the work for months, even weeks you will see them. People will start praising you about your hair, your skin… You will be able to see those changes yourself when you look at your body or at your grades. You will also be more confident because when you decide to put in the work and get results, you will be so proud of yourself I can assure you that.
#dream girl#that girl#becoming that girl#it girl#self care#2023 goals#self improvement#self development#glow up#motivation#visionboard#moodboard#goalsetting
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BARELYYYYY write another daddy Leon fic, AND MY LIFE WILL BE YOURSSS
867-5309.
Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)
A/N: this fic is shitty and short, sorry ^_^ i literally have no drive or desire to write anymore, idk what's going on with me. probably some type of brain worm! but i thought i should at least try to get something written :3 (ily whoever knows what song the title is referencing)
Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), phone sex, age gap (21 and 50-ish), mutual masturbation, no actual sex, idk dude i'm not sure what i was going for with this
Wordcount: 719
!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!
"Little note wasn't lying," Leon said into his phone, sitting in his car near the back of the bar's mostly empty parking lot. "What's this about a good time, doll?"
It was too late for him to be out like this. Too late for him to be this far from sober. Too late for him to be calling some random number that was stuck to the urinal partition. And, of course, it was much too late for him to be this horny.
"Depends," a voice, your voice, spoke on the line. "What kinda night is it, mister?"
Thank god he was drunk, or else he would've heard right through your overly sensual, fake tone. Thank god you were stupid, or else you would've known it was him right from the sleazy nicknames he used.
"Tonight?"
Dirty fucking man. His hands were practically already in his pants. Roughly palming at himself over his tented jeans to the sound of some mystery broad's voice.
"It's a real good night, babydoll. I think you could make it better though." He pulled his zipper down, cock pulsating desperately.
You giggled on the other line, absolutely drowning in the sudden flush of attention. That's why you slipped the damn sticky note with your burner's number into the men's room all those nights ago, hoping some horned up man old enough to be your dad would ring your line and validate you. Little did you know, that man would truly be your dad.
"Sounds like you could use it. I don't mind 'chatting' for a bit," you said, hand finding its way all over your body. "Tell me, y'touching yourself already?"
"To a voice like yours? Of course I am."
Leon freed himself from the confines of his pants, eyes shifting anxiously as he looked around the sparse parking lot. He was a grown man, he'd jerked off to hotlines and voices on the phone all the time. In public, though? New territory completely.
He squeezed his shaft, feeling it pulse in his hand. Thing had a heartbeat of its own at that point as it practically begging to catch some friction and relief.
"Glad you called," you said, sliding your panties off while you spoke. You tossed them in the corner of your room mindlessly. "I've been waiting for someone to find that little note."
Leon opened his mouth to respond when he heard a soft moan escape your mouth. That was enough for him to start. He wanted to take it slow, to enjoy himself, but who was he kidding? He was a needy fucker and he wanted to cum ASAP.
"What'cha doing right now?" he was finally able to ask, swallowing thickly as he pumped his length. "Using those cute fingers, doll?"
You hummed through an over exaggerated moan, dramatizing and putting on a show for your 'mystery man.'
"Sure am," you said, finger curled, reaching your g-spot the best you could with the limited length it had. "But it's not as good as the real thing."
He could practically hear the pout in your voice, and it drove him crazy. You sounded like a bratty little baby, just his type.
"Awh, aren't you a poor thing? Bet some older cock would do you good, huh?"
He heard the squelch of your cunt through the phone speaker. It picked up the sound of your palm hitting your clit, and the little gasps of air you let out each time you slammed your fingers in.
"Guess so." You bit your bottom lip, holding back an excited squeal at his words. "You offering?"
Leon chuckled dryly, watching the tip of his cock weep with pre as he stroked himself. "Oh, someone's eager. Sure," he said, amused smirk on his face as he started to near his climax, hand still working furiously over his cock. "I'm offering. I could use a cute thing like you, anyway. It'll be much better than just hearing ya through the phone."
"We'll see about that," you teased, phone clicking off of the line just as he started to cum.
(XXX)-867-5309: *sent location*
(XXX)-867-5309: pull up ;)
Wait, that address? That was his house...
"Fuck."
Leon's head fell back on the car seat headrest, brain going a mile a minute. Hand still covered in stray spurts of cum.
"Fuck!"
#dead dove fic#tw: incest#cw incest#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy smut#dad x daughter#resident evil x reader#resident evil#smutfic#smut#x reader#fanfic#leon s kennedy x reader#gross kink#fucked up fic
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Sleepover with Drunk Nanami
Nanami crashes on your couch after a drunken meeting on a rare night out.
Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY. fem! Reader, Soft Nanami, drunk Nanami, slow burn (sorta? Does nine hours count?), discussions of consent, Gojo is in it also lol.
Word count: 13.9k, Ngl this one kind of got away from me 🤭🫣. Don’t have sex with drunk people! let the tension build until that consent is sober and enthusiastic.
This was inspired by the song Get Up by Ciara, and my being very horny. I haven’t written fanfic in almost ten years, so here’s what I have for you. This was so fun to write, I really hope y’all enjoy it. I am so obsessed with this man its actually insane.
Clubs were not his preferred way to “cut loose”. He hated the claustrophobic proximity, the overpriced drinks, the flagrants displays of affection, most of all the inability to hold a conversation. Resounding bass and artificial light blaring against his skull was sure to culminate in tomorrow’s headache. Nanami couldn't be bothered to entertain the idea of joining his coworkers to dance and drink as they so often invited him. He much preferred to keep his own company, drinking at home, indulging in the occasional (and strictly, personally regulated) cigarette, and reading in the bath. Although the last two weeks he found himself working around the clock. It seemed that as soon as he crossed his own home’s threshold he was back to work in some capacity or other. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to turn his brain off completely in between shifts. He hated working, period, let alone working outside of his normal hours, but the work needed to be done, and as the days trudged forward, his work life balance compounded into a singularity designed specifically to siphon any free time he could find.
But that had ended this afternoon, completing a mission’s adjoining paperwork and being released for a three day leave in between assignments. Returning to his small office, he begins to retrieve his coat and pack his bag to depart and return home to finally relax. Already feeling his shoulders unknot themselves, Nanami allowed a blissful sigh to leave his lips. No sooner had he begun to draw in the following breath than had the rapping of angular knuckles against his door frame rung in his ears. Raising his eyes, Kento sees long time (reluctant) friend and daily annoyance, Satoru Gojo, strolling casually inside and plopping across the desk from him.
“So what time should I pick you up?” Although Kento could not see his eyes behind the famous black blindfold hiding them, the blase demeanor and entitlement dripping from his question was apparent.
Already feeling the vein in his head begin to pulse, Nanami sighed out, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come out with us tonight. You’re off the ne t few days. I’m sure even you can recover from one night out in that time. Everyone is goin, Suguru, Shoko, yours truly…even Ijichi said he would come,” Gojo allows his smile to lure in the other man, “So you have to come.”
A familiar feeling rose the skin on the back of his neck as Kento heard his familiar train of thought, Absolutely not. I’m exhausted. I have to decline. Don’t wait up for me, but before the reluctance to break his own routine won over, his shoulders softened, “Okay.”
Gojo snapped to attention, his planned seduction now moot in the face of Nanami’s quick acceptance. He hadn't said yes to going out in two months, and the last time he had joined the group, he left less than an hour in claiming a headache and calling a cab.
“For real?” Gojo couldn't help himself, he was waiting for this to be a joke.
“Yes, 9:00 you’ll pick me up. We’ll go out. I could use the break. Thank you for the invitation.”
Gojo was beside himself, feeling his lips stretch from ear to ear, he rose to his feet and began to head to the door. He had to limit the time for Nanami to come to his senses, fearing this may all be some bought of madness from the usually grumpy man.
“See you then, wear something I like.”
Idiot always had to have the last word. Nanami lowered himself into his desk chair, taken aback by his own enthusiasm, a small smile creeping across his lips. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he couldn't say he was upset by it, it had been a long time since he had tried to meet his friends like this. He wasn't social by nature, and he was grateful to have people who understood that, allowing him his space but still continuing to include him in their extroverted fun. As much as Gojo’s refusal to allow him peace took its toll, Nanami was pleased to have someone so insistent on pushing his social limits. Although he would never tell him that.
These are the circumstances that lead Nanami to drinking as much as he had, to loosening his tie eventually to the point of hanging on either shoulder, to laying his jacket along the barstool of the hightop table he and his friends occupied. Dancing, actually dancing inside of the group of people gyrating together on the club’s designated dance floor. Eyes closed, hair sticking to his forehead, Kento felt the weight of fall away and the warm embrace of intoxication take over.
Gojo laughed over his dark sunglasses, nudging Geto’s elbow with his own before tipping his head to their large, very uncharacteristically drunk friend. They watched in shared admiration, laughing to each other, remembering fondly the stiff demeanor their friend had always carried. Since they’d known him they had seen him get drunk countless times, but drunk enough to dance? Only a handful. Drunk enough to have undone his top three buttons and reveal a growing flush down his neck and shoulders, maybe twice.
“He really needed this,” Geto praised Gojo lightly, it was him who always insisted on inviting out Nanami once again, despite the likely improbability of it happening.
Gojo smiled warmly before laughing again, this time to himself, he didn't want to reveal how easy it really was. How little he had had to push to get him out, he let the praise wash over him as he admired the usually stuffy man’s catharsis. Shoko returned then from the bar, two shots for herself and one for Ijichi who followed closely behind her, already starting to stumble himself.
That’s when Nanami saw you. Finally opening his eyes, pupils adjusting to the dim light, you appeared to him like a vision. And a vision you were, long legs wrapped in a skirt, a top lightly grazing the hemline at your waist, arms full and strong, hair styled specifically showcasing care and effort as well as routine. Engaged in conversation with a friend of yours, both laughing and allowing the atmosphere to relax you, Kento didn't realize his body had stopped dancing as he now stood dumbly in the center of the dancefloor. With soft pushes and thoughtless instinctual movement, he moved to the outskirts of the dancefloor, although still within sight of you. His breath caught in his chest, his hands ran cold, becoming clammy quickly as he watched you share a shot with your friend, head tipping back and revealing the full column of your neck to him. He felt his face flush further than the alcohol could.
Soon enough his back found the table that Shoko currently occupied, digging in her discarded coat’s pocket for her lighter, cigarette hanging loosely between her lips. Cooly placing her hand atop a few rattled glasses knocked around by his collision, she inquired as to Nanami’s dreamy state, “something got your attention?” her laugh broke through his haze just as she followed his eyeline to you.
“She’s pretty, you know her?” she was finally able to fish her lighter from the correct pocket.
Nanmi shook his head, still not able to tear his gaze away,” do you?”
“Never seen her before.” She observed the dumbstruck look in Nanami’s eyes weighing whether her input was more prescient than her desire for a smoke break, “You should try to talk to her. Who knows when we’ll get you out again. Make the most of it.”
With that she headed back towards the smoker’s patio, leaving Nanami with her words bouncing between his ears. When was the last time he had flirted with someone? When was the last time he had been on an actual date? When was the last time he had gotten to take someone home? When was the last time he had shared a bed with someone? When was the last time someone else had made him cum, not just himself between disgruntled days and nights working too much with little output? He had a break, he had come out, hadn't he? As he had gotten ready tonight he chastised his own mind for indulging in fantasies of meeting someone, But he didn't think he would find someone so ... .magnetic.
He wasn't even sure how long it had been since Shoko had gone outside, Kento snapped back to himself when he saw you set your drink down- nearly finished- and head into the throng of dancing bodies. His body moves before he can consciously decide how best to approach you; feet escorting him to the dance floor, hips following the beat and loosening the rest of him. His hands moved upward around his shoulders imitating a boxer’s stance, the alcohol clearly influencing his dancing style. Pressing forward he found himself just to your left. It was as though you had your own kinespheric bubble surrounding you, people danced near you but not on you. He felt invited in by this space, as though you had saved it just for him. He watched your body move, circling your hips and allowing your neck to follow the melody freely, your arms raising above your head as your eyes fluttered between completely closed and mostly closed. Your lips were parted beautifully, lip gloss catching the light so beautifully.
Maybe it was just chapstick, or it was lipstick, he had no idea, but just seeing the glint along your bottom lip made his mouth water for your kiss.
Would you use your tongue right away, or would he need to draw it out of you with his? Would you want him to guide you, or did you want to lead him yourself? He found his heart quickening at ever new possibility. When you finally allowed your eyes to open, they found him almost instantly. Locking eyes with you finally, Kento thought his skin was going to burst. Heart quickened, hand clammy, breath quick he searched for any reciprocation in your own eyes.
So when your eyes crinkle, following the line of your smile, so clearly directed right at him and only him, Kento can't resist but bring his hands to the sides of your hips.
The blonde man had been watching you since you got here. You noticed, Sophie noticed. As soon as you left the bar and staked your claim on an open hightop bordering the crowded but lively dance floor, she had jutted her chin toward him on the other side of the floor.
“Got one already.” she said impressed with your efficiency.
You turned to briefly meet his gaze, in just a second his gaze was so intense you could tell his eyes were honey brown and they were trained on you and only you, “oh come on. I’m sure he’s just checking everyone out.” you dismissed, still feeling the hot eyes on the back of your neck.
“He’s still looking at you,” Sophie marveled, “still looking…still…wow I don't think hes even trying to hide it.”
You knew. You could feel it, your heart raced. You had just barely looked at him but you had seen enough to see how attractive he was. A tall, broad frame, well cultivated outfit, neat, well styled hair, confidence and stability oozing from every pore. So clearly unabashedly interested. God, he was your type. Before you knew it most of your drink was drained, the nerves of being observed having made you suddenly parched. The liquid confidence settling in your system motivated you to pull Sophie to dance. You two found an open bubble in the sea of bodies and allowed yourself to release your lingering thoughts of the watcher.
That is, until you open your eyes once more, finding a pair of honey brown eyes begging for yours. It was him. He was less than two feet from you, he had sought you out. You couldn't help yourself, his interest and obvious enthusiasm brought a curl to your lips. Your smile locking him into a stare, you didn't flinch when you felt large, strong hands on your hips. It felt right, looking into his eyes the idea of not feeling him touch you felt preposterous. Your hips still followed the music, his soon joining their routine. His hands, once brazen, now stayed still and solid against your hips, moving with you, but never straying from their position. Emboldened by his sudden demure approach,wanting to reciprocate with just as much interested you turned, facing your back to him and pressing the curve of your ass against his hips, you thought you hear a soft groan exit his mouth. Once you had turned away from him, a bit of tension is relieved. You feel braver not looking him directly in the eye anymore. You grip onto one of his hands and trail it up your body, leaving the other gripping your hip harder and harder. Soon your back was fully against his chest, the music carried your pelvis, joined against his, everything else fell away as you guided his right hand across your body, side, hips, stomach and ass. His body felt so solid against yours, it was so solid against yours. He was an imposing figure, six foot or more, strong and cultivated build demonstrating both his personal strength and his own discipline. How you could have not noticed him here before was beyond you.
Nanami was hypnotized. From the moment you had looked him in the eye, he was hooked. Now that your body was flush against his, ass grinding into the front of his slacks, he couldn't think about anything else. He breathed hot against your ear as your fingers curled around his, sliding his fingers up from your hip to your stomach. It was so intimate, your leading his hand along your body, showing him exactly where you wanted his touch. You had your head cocked to the left, opening the side of your neck to him and moving your hair just under his nose, the smell of your shampoo was thrilling, he longed to run his fingers through your hair, to ruin your styling and pull. He wondered if you would let him brush it for you, wash it for you. He could learn exactly how you liked your routine, learn to style, learn to braid, anything to keep this smell close to him.
Behind his eyelids he wondered about your body, how your breasts would look, how your skin would flush through excitement or exertion, how wet you would get, how you would taste. He wondered, too, about your kiss, again thinking about how much tongue you would use, and if you would want to be in charge or him. A soft moan escaped his lips as he thought of your tongue sliding against his, directly against the shell of your ear. As if cued you spun around again, your leg slotted between his, allowing you both to move as one, grinding unashamed as your arms wrapped around his neck.
“You can touch me yourself you know,” You could barely hear the music but Nanami knew exactly what you had said, “Or do you just like being told what to do.”
Your flirting sent a shock directly down his body, feeling his cock swell against the inside of his slacks, he slid his hands up the curves and folds of your back, your skin was so soft, he saw your lips part as he touched you. You were so reactive, he couldn't hear the caught breaths of the soft moans over the club’s speakers, but he watched as your eyes fluttered and your knees pulled tighter around him. One hand traveled down to the side of your leg, brushing down the side of your hip and ass to grip your thigh. The front strands of his hair had loosened and now hung freely in his face, a dark blush settled across his freckled nose and cheeks, one of your hands moved down his shoulder and onto his chest, he wished he had been more reckless and undone a few more buttons for you, he longed to have your fingers on his skin. But for now they held the collar of his shirt in their grasp, he longed for your eyes again, and as if you had read his find they met his own. He prayed you couldn't feel the way the eye contact had made his dick twitch, the blush deepening at the shame of being so crass in his attraction to you. Pulling him somehow even closer, he could feel your breath on his neck, he was panting a bit from the exertion of dance and the intense sexual tension. The song was beginning to end, and the DJ was already beginning to blend it with the introduction of the next song.
Seizing his opportunity, Nanami finally spoke his first words to you, “Can I buy you a drink?”
You nodded, smiling at him, he wanted to make you smile again and again, the warmth of your gazing making the stuffy club feel icy by comparison.
“Thank you!”, you moved a hand down his arm to join your hands together. Guiding him over to the bar. Your hand in his felt electric, you both could feel it. His large, work roughened palm against your own. They had fit together so naturally.
As you made your way over to the bar the music became less and less overwhelming, the pressing of bodies became less insistent. You turned your head to find Sophie, chatting to a few friends she had planned to run into, she caught your eye before giving you a knowing look and a thumbs up. You smiled and winked at her before turning back to the man behind you. You caught him at the end of turning his head from what looked to be a group of his own friends. All of whom were looking at the pair of you. One, particularly tall man with dark glasses was giving an encouraging thumbs up mirroring Sophie’s. You caught yourself wondering if your friends would get along, if he would get along with your friends, if you would get along with his. You didn't even know this man's name, you had barely spoken to him, and here you were ready to merge friend groups and make brunch plans. What the hell was going on tonight?
Finally reaching the bar right as two seats opened up, you both sat, giving your exhausted legs much needed refuge. The air between you two suddenly became thick, without the immediacy of movement you found yourself suddenly worried about how to engage him again in the heat you had just had.
“What do you like to drink?”, he started right as you offered a question of your own,
“So what’s your name..”
You both laughed for a second, the acknowledgement of shared nerves taking a little pressure off. His smile was reserved, seemingly unpracticed. But his eyes betrayed his warmth, you could see.
“Kento Nanami,” He answered your question first, fighting the urge to hold out his hand for a chaste and professional handshake. He lifted his eyebrows to signify it being your turn to answer, you told him your name, and his smile returned again, “That's a beautiful name.” he repeated it back to you, ensuring his pronunciation was correct, when in actuality he could have rolled your name in his mouth a thousand times and never tired of the taste.
“I’d love a gin and tonic,” You offered, answering his question, “Or whatever you’re drinking.”
Drinking, he was drinking. Suddenly he was aware of how much he had been drinking. Skin hot and red, probably sweating all over you, stinking of booze. He felt the embarrassment move throughout his body as he replayed his invitation to buy you a drink. Were you just being nice to him? Wanting to find a polite way to get away from him and return to your friend? He had been so casual, so unhindered.
God, he was an idiot
“Sorry to take you away from your friends, I understand if you want to go back.”He wanted to offer you an out, feeling himself try to straighten up and will the drunkenness out of him before he embarrassed you or himself further. But to his surprise, you cocked your head to the side, eyes narrowing to assess his change in demeanor. You could see right through him.
“Don’t get shy on me now, the nights just starting,” you offered a new, slyer smile, “isn’t it?”
He nodded slowly, the bartender finally rounded the bar top to take your orders. Nanami ordered your drink as well as one of his own, you added on the desire for some ice water. Once the drinks were down set, you offered him a little cheers, tapping your glass against his before sipping. The drink was cool and refreshing, the perfect remedy for the heat rising in your neck and face.
He was so handsome, from his carved cheekbones speckled with freckles, you wondered if they were anywhere further down his collar. His bottom lip was full and plump, parted slightly as he tasted his drink, with his face profile to yours you could see a small pink circle on the side of his nose.
“Do you wear glasses?”, you asked.
Nanami’s brows twitched slightly together, “I do.”
“You have those little impressions on your nose. From the bridge of your glasses.” You answer, without him having asked how you could tell, “I bet you look handsome with your glasses on.”
Nanami cursed himself for leaving his glasses in his coat pocket across the bar. He’ll never make that mistake again. Bringing the chilled glass to his lips, attempting to cover his smile. He feels so seen by you, the way your eyes move over every inch of him, he doesn’t know if he’s ever been observed so closely. It’s exhilarating, it’s terrifying. You’re terrifying. You’re exhilarating. You’re still looking at him. You’re looking at him expectantly. You asked him another question and he missed it. He scrambles through the last few seconds searching for what you may have said to him, and how he possibly could have missed it.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if those were your friends over there.” You pointed over his shoulder.
Nanami turned quickly, oh god too quickly, his head spinning a bit as his equilibrium struggled to catch up. Gojo was waving at him, gesturing broadly in unintelligible charades. Nanami felt his frustration flare up at both having been distracted from you and also having to once again decipher another one of Satoru’s riddles. At the meeting of their eye line, Gojo began to move over to where the pair of you were seated, Geto and Shoko sharing the weight of a stumbling Ijichi. The head vein began pulsing again, he ought to name it after Gojo the way he sets it off. Panic set throughout his body, he didn’t want you to meet his friends— or maybe he didn’t want them to meet you. Not yet. He didn’t want to risk ruining what hadn’t yet really started. Suddenly feeling very territorial of you, he turned back, once again sending his head swimming.
“Yes. Those are my coworkers. I’m not—“
“Nanamiiiiin. We gotta take Ijichi home, he’s already thrown up twice. It’s gross.” Gojo was already halfway through his sentence before reaching the bar.
You assessed the new crowd of faces. Odd faces, all so well built and specific. Between the tall man in the darkest sunglasses you had ever seen in an already dark bar, the lithe woman with purple eyeshadow and the most perfect beauty mark, and the embodiment of tall dark and handsome— you wondered what exactly Nanami did for a living. Was there some kind of work force that employed only the hottest people you had ever seen. It took you a second to notice the younger, far drunker man with his arm slung around the black haired man with the gauges. The white haired man was still talking to Nanami, maybe arguing, but they spoke too softly for you to hear specifics. Both were cut off
“So do you want a ride home or are you good here?” Gauges asked eyes moving between you and Nanami coolly, before readjusting his hold of the nearly asleep fourth man.
The woman tapped on her phone, seemingly uninvested in what was happening, now barely holding onto their friend.
The white haired man cut in before Nanami could answer, “you hit those drinks pretty hard, Nanami. We don’t want you getting taken advantage of.” His face turned toward you and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt them.
Wow, like really felt them, he was sizing you up, it was clear. It was confusing, his inflection was teasing-almost joking, but his energy was severe.
Nanami was seething, mortified by the intrusion and Gojo’s crass assertion, “I can get myself home.”
It would have sounded more convincing if the slurring of his voice hadn’t married the words myself and home into a mess. You noticed, realizing for the first time that you were much more sober than him. His friends noticed too.
Nanami cleared his throat before speaking again, “I’m a grown man, I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojo. I’m enjoying my evening. Please take Ijichi home.”
Gojo didn’t seem convinced, turning his face back to you and finally sliding the sunglasses down his nose to reveal the bluest pair of eyes you had ever seen. They nearly glowed in the dim club. This gesture caused the others of the group to stiffen up. The woman finally putting her phone down, Gauges eyeing him carefully, even Nanami drew in a tense breath.
“We quite like our friend Nanami, we wouldn’t want him getting hurt.” He spoke directly to you, between his height and your seated position he leaned over you slightly, “are you someone we can trust our friend with?”
Nanami was about to cut in but before he could you met those azure eyes with yours, “I quite like your friend too.,” you copied his inflection, “ I understand why you’d be wary of some stranger taking him home. Since you have your hands full, I’ll watch him for the night. If he decides he needs a ride home, why don’t I call you directly?”
Nanami felt his jaw drop, looking between you and Gojo carefully. He caught Geto’s eye, seeing him smile lightly. No one talked to Gojo like this. Shoko chuckled softly, impressed with your lack of fear in the face of their “strongest” friend. There was no way for you to know the risk you were taking, but it was thrilling nonetheless.
“That is, if he would like to join me back to mine?” You continued, looking away from Gojo and back to Nanami.
“I’d like that very much.” Nanami answered quickly, in any other situation he would be embarrassed at how eager he sounded, especially in front of his friends. But you wanted to take him home, you wanted to keep talking to him, he could see where you lived, maybe you would let him kiss you, or touch you again.
“Give me your phone.”
The request snapped Nanami from his fantasy. Gojo held his hand out expectantly. To his surprise you handed over your cell phone. Gojo typed quickly, “This is my phone number and where Nanami lives. If I don’t answer, stick him in a cab to this address. Okay?”
“Okay. It’s nice to meet you, Gojo.” You attempted to ease the tension created, “I promise you’ve left him in good hands and I’ll return him to you in one piece.” You smiled warmly at him, cutting through the attempts at intimidation, even offering a small wink to Nanami over his friend’s shoulder.
You didn’t back down, you understood why anyone would be concerned about leaving their drunk friend with a stranger. It was a testament to how much he cared, he seemed completely sober himself. Playing DD, you assumed, was not a role he took lightly. You respected his protectiveness, you had done nearly the same on many occasions. If this is what Nanami’s friends were like, you would definitely fit in. You glanced down at where Gojo had written in the notes app of your phone. A string of numbers— his cell, and an address, Nanami’s, and below that another line, just for you.
Be nice to him, he’s more sensitive than he looks :)
Yeah, you would get along with this one. You smiled up at him and Nanami both before the dark haired man slung the full weight of the now completely passed out bespectacled man on his back in an attempt at a piggy back, and smiled to you warmly,
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Kento. Have a nice night.” Before turning and leading the group toward the exit. Gojo handed off Nanami’s jacket before pushing his glasses up his nose and turning around to follow.
With no more company, the two of you were once again alone. Nanami struggled to collect his thoughts before you soothed him, “Your friends are nice. They seem to really care about you. How long have you all worked together?”
“We all went to high school together.”
“And you’re still friends? That impressive, I barely keep up with friends from that long ago.”
“We’re, sort of, stuck with each other.” Nanami started, caught in the trap of having to figure out some way to explain his job without, actually, explaining his job. Thankfully, you cut that conversational thread and moved forward.
“I hope I wasn't too forward. You don't have to come back to mine. I felt like we were just getting to talking and I didn’t want to cut it short yet. But please don’t feel obligated.” You wanted to assure him that he could proceed however he wanted to. Despite how hopelessly attracted to this man you were, you recognized your responsibility as the more sober party to remain respectful.
“No I want to!” He blurted, not thinking about his volume, quickly standing.
You laughed, “I didn’t mean now! If you want to stay and have another drink, or dance more, that's good too.”
His resolve was starting to crack, it had been nearly an hour since he first saw you enter the club. He wanted desperately to be alone with you, suddenly the club was too hot and too crowded and too loud. Everything was overwhelming, and the only thing he wanted to overwhelm him was you.
Still standing he stepped in toward you a sudden surge of confidence lowering his voice and causing his head to dip down to meet you at eye level, “I would, very much like to join you back at your place.”
His voice was dripping with want, the eroticism behind his words lidding his eyes and sending chills down the side of your neck. You let out a small shaky breath before standing up, chest nearly colliding with his, sending him back up to his full height.
“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. Stay here.”
You nearly ran to find Sophie and your mutual friends at a table of their own. Leaving Nanami to settle his tab and wait patiently at the bar for your return. Your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear the music. When you finally found her, you pulled her close to speak directly into her ear.
“I’m taking blondie back to mine. You all good here?”
She gave you a taunting oooh before smiling, “you really do work fast. Next time lets see if you can last two full hours before taking someone home.”
You rolled your eyes before giving her a tight hug and grabbing your jacket, “love you, text me when you get home.”
Waving to your other friends you turned on your heels and saw Nanami still standing at the bar patiently at the bar patiently. He hadn't pulled out his phone to pass the time, he simply waited, just as you had told him. God, if he could follow benign instructions like this so well, you can only imagine how well he would do with something more salacious. You had to relax, you knew nothing would happen tonight. He would come over and crash, and that was enough for now.
Nanami counted to six in his head over and over, trying to measure his breaths as though if he increased his oxygen intake he wouldn't be drunk anymore. The sides of his vision were fuzzy and dreamlike, ears hot, tongue a bit dry, all his physical indicators of intoxication were present. He paid his tab, the only things on it were your and his brief shared drink. Realizing that since Gojo( maybe Geto?) had purchased the earlier rounds, he actually had no way of knowing how much he had had tonight. What had he gotten himself into? His attempts to sober up proved inefficient because just as quickly as you had left, you were standing in front of him once more wearing your jacket and sliding your purse over your shoulder. You still looked so beautiful,
“Ready?”
He nodded, “Ready.”
And now he sat in the back of a cab, behind the driver, you on the other side. Had he remembered to open the door for you? Had you two waited outside for the cab to pull up long? A window had been cracked allowing fresh, night air to brush past his face. Your thumb ran over the back of his hand. You were holding his hand. He looked down to confirm that your fingers were interlocked with his resting on the middle seat between the two of you. They looked good like that, his long fingers laced with yours. How long had you been holding hands? Eyes wandering he saw the skin of your thigh where your skirt had ridden up, he wanted to feel your leg against his, the space between you in the backseat suddenly feeling cavernous.
“You’re so far away.” he mutters, not really intending to say so out loud.
Without saying anything you giggled and scooted closer to him, moving your joined hands into your lap and your leg right against his. You tipped your head up to look at him, he wanted desperately to kiss you. Just as he began to lean into your lips you stopped him with your fingers.
“Not yet.” was all you offered him as conciliation.
He nodded, lips still restrained by your fingertips. The faint smell of the lime you had squeezed into your drink still lingering. Even just having his lips on your fingertips sent his body into a frenzy. But he was a patient man. Drunk or not, he knew how to wait for what he wanted. Still, he allowed himself to indulge a little, he kissed your finger tips before pulling back with a sigh, nodding silently.
The rest of the drive was quick, or at least it felt quick. You lived in an apartment building and when the cab pulled up outside, you handed over a few bills before sliding out of the door closest to you. Nanami began to move toward his before it opened suddenly. You had opened his door for him and were now offering your hand to help him out. He stared up at you entranced, he felt romanced by you. It dawned on him that he had truly let himself be “picked up”. Taking your hand he exited the car and tried to think if he had ever had this happen before. Women approached him sure, men too, but whenever he allowed himself to spend the night with someone they had always come back to his place. It allowed him a sense of control, and thus comfort in a vulnerable situation. Vulnerability did not come naturally to him, not now anyway. He wasn't prudish or uncomfortable with casual sex, but he liked to remain the organizer of them. Much like everything in his life he liked it to remain under his control. But tonight, you had steered him right to your door and he was so willing, it dawned on him only once that maybe he could have gotten himself in a dangerous situation. He barely knew anything about you, he knew your name, and now where you lived, but the rest of you was a mystery to him. And yet here he was, following you down the hallway to your apartment door truly not caring what could be on the other side as long as it meant more time with you.
You hesitated at the front door, holding your keys in one hand, aimed at the lock.
“I want you to know I’ll call your friend whenever you like. If you decide you want to leave, you just say so and It won't be a problem. You won't hurt my feelings and it doesn’t have to be awkward.” It felt redundant at his point, but you couldn't shake the discomfort of having taken him home in this state. He had nodded off briefly in the cab, holding your hand tightly, before coming too and staring at you with wide eyes. You nearly backed off then and redirected the driver to the address his friend-- neigh, Bodyguard-- had written down. But then he had wanted you to come closer, and tried to kiss you. You knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but still he sought you out.
Gnawing the inside of your lip you looked up at him nervously, waiting for his response. Nanami looked down at you, his already drooping eyes still warm toward you, “I really like you. I think you’re beautiful. I bet you're a great decorator, can I please see what you’ve done to your apartment?”
His response made you laugh again. He Hadn't really answered you, but it was clear what he wanted. You weren't sure if he was intending to be funny, but nonetheless, the anxiety you had just felt slipped away once again and you turned the lock, leading him inside. You liked your apartment, it wasn't the nicest place available. But it was a two bedroom you could afford by yourself, with a good sized kitchen and small personal patio. Frankly, you were lucky to have even found it. You were a good decorator, and you were proud of the job you had done with the interior. A large, well managed and organized bookshelf along one wall with a recliner and side table, art along the walls you had collected since first moving away from home. A medium sized brown couch that was perfect for movie nights with Sophie or an afternoon nap. You had made a home here, and you were thankful for the chance to show it off.
“Wow…” Nanami’s voice sounded nice inside of your home.
“You like it?” you began to shed your jacket, hanging it on a tree rack by the door and clicking on a few lights. You offered to take his coat.
“It’s beautiful, so warm.” Nanami began to slip his jacket down his shoulder, suddenly realizing he didn't actually remember putting it on, “you did all of this yourself?”
You barely heard his question, distracted by the way his shirt stretched over the muscles of his back, “Uh.. yeah. I moved in about three years ago. So it's been a process but I’m pretty proud of how it turned out.”
You turned to hang his coat next to yours, even they looked cute together. He removed his shoes carefully, still stumbling a bit before he took a few steps into your apartment’s main room.
“Why don’t you take a seat.” you gestured to the couch
He sat gracelessly, cushion sinking more under him than he expected. His couch at home was pretty stiff, yours was soft and pliant under his weight. He steadied himself again, feeling embarrassed suddenly.
“I dont usually drink like this, I drink.. Just not so….like this?” He attempted to save some face in the wake of his stumble.
You stood by the edge of the couch before moving into the kitchen area.
“Are you hungry? I could make us something before bed.” You offered, more needing an escape from the building sexual tension than feeling any actual hunger.
“Oh I couldn’t put you out like that…” He started, feeling his limbs get heavy with comfort as the softness of your couch lulled him to lay down. It wouldn't hurt to just lay down a little, right?
“It's no trouble, really! We may feel better in the morning if we eat something now.” you called from behind him. Your voice seemed further away somehow as he pressed his cheek against the soft suede beneath him.
The couch smelled so good, like incense and home cooked food. He wondered if you had a pet he hadn't yet seen, or if you wanted one. Were you a dog person? Or did you prefer cats? Maybe you were one of those people into reptiles, he could learn to love one if you wanted him to. In this state he would do anything you asked him. Which was precisely why he wasn't getting the one thing he wanted from you, he buried his frustrated expression further into the couch. A small groan exiting his lips. Your hand brushed the back of his neck, rousing him back to attention.
“Kento, honey? You still with me?” your voice was so sweet saying his name, he wanted to hear it again. Once he looked up at you he saw you had a glass of water in your hand offering it to him, “Are you good to sleep in these clothes or should I look for something for you to wear?”
He was still in his dress clothes, not his work dress clothes, but not exactly lounge wear. His button up was stiff and pants had been well tailored, hell, he was still wearing his belt, “thank you.” he accepted the water, and by proxy your offer.
He was left alone in your living room. Slurping down the cool water he tried once against to regain his composure. Had he fallen asleep again just now? You seemed to have abandoned the idea of eating so he must have drifted off. This job really had run him ragged.
“They still may not be the right size, but they’ll work for the night I think.” You returned from the side room, presumably your bedroom, with a pair of black sweatpants, “They used to be my brother’s, but they've got some paint stains from when I redid the bathroom. Sorry I don't really have anything else.”
He accepted them graciously, setting the water down on a coaster before standing, “Thank you, this is all very nice of you. Letting me stay the night like this, I'm really not usually like this…”he started to repeat himself.
“It's really no trouble, it's been a long time since I let a man as handsome as you sleep on my couch.”
The couch. So he wouldn't be joining you in bed tonight. Part of him had hoped that even though he wouldn't be sleeping with you tonight, he could at least sleep in your bed, “The couch, huh?” His half awake state allowed the thought to slip out half formed.
“Mhm, the couch. You two seem to have really hit it off. I'm certain the drool puddle wasn't there when I left.” You pointed to a small wet spot on the cushion where his face had been.
Once again the embarrassment of his current state shot through his body like electricity, so he had fallen asleep again. He hung his head cringing at himself, “Oh jesus…I cant believe this.. I’m--”
You cut him off, “You really don't need to be sorry. I like having you here. And tomorrow morning maybe we can have coffee and talk some more. I hope you don't think I was just inviting you over to fuck you.”
His breath caught, “No, I- well.. I thought you--”
“I, of course, want to fuck you. And I don't really see any point in hiding it anymore now that you’re here. But it’s just not going to happen tonight. And I don't think I'll get a wink of sleep next to you when all I can think about is that. Does that make sense?”You were tired, you didn't want to be coy and demure anymore. You wanted to be frank and upfront about how you felt and what you wanted. Nanami nodded understandingly, although still a little surprised at your confession. You continued, “So, you’ll sleep here. I’ll sleep in my bed. I usually wake up at 8, the door to my bedroom is unlocked. If you need anything during the night, please don't hesitate to wake me up. The bathroom is the door behind you, you can change in there.”
Nanami was awestruck by your instructional tone, it sent his mind in a thousand directions; thinking of you telling him house work that needed to be done on the weekend, to you telling him exactly how to please you. He wanted you so badly, pants growing tighter, breath getting heavier. You stepped forward, nearly right up against his chest.
“I hope you're not too disappointed that I won't take advantage of you tonight.” Your voice soft.
“I respect your self control.” His eyes were locked on your lips, so plump and soft looking.
“I’m going to bed,”You leaned in closer, so close he could smell your perfume again, still as hypnotic as it was in the club, “Goodnight, Kento.”
You pressed your lips against his cheek. His body shuddered as your lips lingered there before you pulled away back on flat feet. Trying desperately to regulate his racing heart, Nanmi looked at you desperately.
“Goodnight.”
You turned back to the side room hitting a wall switch to extinguish the kitchen light before closing your bedroom door and leaving him in your dimly lit living room. He could still feel your lips burning on his cheek, he stood for a few seconds not wanting any other sensations that could potentially dull this one. Finally, he shed his pants, folding them haphazardly and setting them on your recliner. He sweatpants you had given him fit okay, the drawstring was broken so they hung pretty loose around his hips, showing just the elastic of his briefs. He undid the rest of his shirt buttons and folded it to stack atop his pants. He hoped you wouldn't mind, but he never slept with a shirt on. Honestly, he didn't usually sleep with pants on either, he already ran hot but sleeping was an entirely different story. Sleeping fully clothed almost always culminated in him waking up in a pool of sweat as though he had just broken a fever. Laying on his back on the couch he pulled a throw blanket over him, mind racing with thoughts of tomorrow.
In your room you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You had returned to your room like every night, put on an old t shirt and shorts as you always did, washed your face and brushed your hair as though it was any old night, turned on your white noise and gotten into bed as if there wasn't the most attractive and charming man you had ever met settling in to sleep on your couch at this very moment. The nights events played and replayed in your mind on a loop, the intensity of his gaze across the floor, the way he had materialized right in front of you, the feeling of his body pressed up behind yours, his hands on your back back, his hand in yours, him asking to kiss you in the cab, him snoring softly on your couch, the way he had looked at you as he said goodnight. You had never felt so pulled toward another person before. It was far from a perfect night, on a perfect night you’d be fucking each other blind until the sun came up at this very moment. On a perfect night you wouldn't have even been in that club, you would already be his, spending romantic evenings reading and cooking. You wondered if he liked to read, what his favorite meals were, if he wanted pets, if he would want to move in here or if he’d ask you to move in with him. You recognized the street name of his address, he lived in a far nicer part of the city than you did. You wondered what his place looked like, if he had decorated it personally or if he had help. God, you haven't even asked if he had a girlfriend. You checked for a ring while you were dancing, but you got so caught up that the idea of a girlfriend hadn’t even crossed your mind. You rolled onto your side trying to relieve some anxiety, he didn't have a girlfriend. You met his friends, they were intense, sure. And sure, one of them had lightly threatened you, but it didn't seem like the threat was rooted in a fear of infidelity. It seemed like the threat came purely from a safety standpoint.
Were you being irresponsible? Was it smart of you to have brought him here so easily? You rarely brought hook ups here, almost always opting to follow them home and politely excuse yourself in the morning. You found yourself bending so many of your usual rules for him, giving your information to his friends, leaving the club so quickly, bringing him to your apartment. Nanami was so big and looked so strong, it probably wouldn't take a lot for him to overpower you. You had practically offered yourself to him on a silver plate. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to be afraid of him. You couldn't say that you knew him well enough to know he was safe, but you just…trusted him. And you felt that he trusted you too.
Your lips still tingled from kissing him. It was just a goodnight kiss, a simple gesture intended to convey continued interest but the end of the conversation around sex. You could call it chaste, even. And yet here you were, lips feeling electrified from a mere two second kiss on the cheek. Whatever product he uses in his hair smelled incredible, like honey or tobacco or sandalwood. Something organic and masculine. The soft sound of surprise he had let out when you touched the back of his sleeping neck resounded in your ears. His voice was so pretty, your mind attempted to conjure what he could sound like when he climaxed. If he would let out a low, husky groan, or if he would whine and beg you for more. You felt your pussy dampen at what your imagination offered you. Thoughts of him were consuming you, seconds moving by glacially as you begged for sleep to take over and bring the beautiful, sober light of day through your bedroom window. When it finally did your dreams were abstract but they were blue and honey and blonde.
Nanami could already feel his head pulsing before he opened his eyes. Oh God. When he finally did manage to pry his eyes open, he found himself not looking at his bedroom wall. He wasn't in his bedroom at all. He wasn't in his bed. Where the fuck was he? He sat up slowly, head pounding and back aching. He took in his new surroundings: he was on a couch, there were his clothes folded on the chair, he remembered taking them off, he looked to the coffee table and saw a glass of water mostly untouched with two small painkillers next to it. It must have been left there by you. YOU! This was your apartment, he had slept on your couch in your apartment! Memories of the previous night came screaming back against his aching head. The club, the shots, meeting you, dancing, you taking him home, you taking care of him-- oh god he was so drunk. Had he really fallen asleep twice? He was mortified. He didn't know if he could face seeing you. He remembered Gojo’s threats and his cheeks burned both in embarrassment and rage, where does he get off acting like some kind of guardian over him. Then again, if he was that drunk then maybe he needed it…maybe just not that one. He stood up on shaky, sore legs, even these pants weren't his. He needed to leave before he embarrassed you or himself any further. This was a mistake, he can't believe he let himself get so carried away, you must have thought he was some drunken fool who cant take care of himself. Maybe he was a drunken fool who couldnt take care of himself.
He unfolded his pants and wracked his brain for whether you had told him which door was your bathroom so he could change back into his own clothes. Just as he was trying to remember which door you had said led to the bathroom, you emerged from the side room yawning.
“Good morning!” You stretched a bit as you walked into the kitchen, “I hope you weren't planning on running off before I got out here. I set the coffee to make enough for two and if you don't drink part of it, I'll be buzzing for the rest of the day.”
The lilt of your laugh brought it all back. He knew exactly how he let himself get carried away. You were magnificent, even more beautiful in the morning light, hair undone, legs exposed under your sleep shorts, what appeared to be a well loved sweatshirt hanging off your shoulders. You took his breath away, he couldn't believe you were actually real. Not some dream his drunken state had conjured to torment him.
You were so grateful to have your back turned on him, it was stupid of you to assume he would have slept in that button up, and you hadn't given him a shirt to wear, despite having an extensive collection of oversized t-shirts that would certainly have covered him. But seeing him shirtless in your living room just for the duration of your walk from bedroom to coffee maker was enough to nearly make you falter right then and there. He was so, fucking, built. How does one even get a body like that, did he live at the gym? He hadn't really explained what it was he did for work, was he a trainer? You weren't really a big gym person, but you could be convinced to start going if it meant watching him huff and puff and sweat.
“Good morning. I don't know where to begin…”, His voice was the same as the previous night, low and smooth, but this morning it was more reserved, more even and controlled, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out last night. I really can't believe my own behavior. I’m truly sorry.”
You turned to face him, you were expecting some kind of hangover induced remorse, but he sounded genuinely apologetic, as though he had imposed himself upon you rather than having been invited as a guest.
He continued, “I know it doesn't mean much, but I don’t go out very often. I had had a rough few weeks at work and my friends wanted to help me loosen up a bit. Apparently I did a little too good of a job with that part. I'm so sorry to have put you out, I hope your night wasn’t ruined by having to take care of me. I'm grateful to you, I'm just so…”
“How do you take it?” you cut him off before allowing him to apologize to you once again, turning back around to the two cups of coffee you had poured.
“Excuse me?”
“Your coffee,” you opened the fridge to see if you even had any milk to offer him.
“I--”
“I have sugar, or honey if you prefer, and then I don't have any cream but i do have oat milk. I usually take mine with one sugar. How do you take yours?”
Nanami was beside himself, mid flagellation, completely shut down and now once again having to ask something of you, “One sugar is perfect.”
You dropped about a teaspoon of sugar into each mug, giving them both a quick stir before setting the spoon in the sink and walking over to the couch to meet him. Getting close you saw that his freckles did extend down onto his shoulders. Small scatterings of cinnamon dusted on fair, even skin. You handed him one mug, your favorite mug actually, it was dark blue and hand thrown. You had bought it at an art fair when you first moved to town, you’d tell him that story eventually.
“I don’t want you to apologize to me. I’m glad I met you last night. And I’m glad you stayed over. And I'm especially glad you're still here now.” You took a seat on your usual spot on the couch, to the right of him. He was still standing, body facing the kitchen but face watching you intently, now holding his mug but not drinking. You patted the spot next to you on the couch. He sat down, silence fell between the two of you as you sipped your coffee again. He followed suit, the steaming drink already starting to soothe his hangover. He couldn't help the soft moan the escaped him, drinking down the relief of caffeine.
“Taste okay?” you checked in.
“Its perfect. Thank you.” he felt himself loosen up, his brain choosing to be kinder and remind himself of the parts of last night that had gone well. Making you laugh, making you smile, dancing with you, the smell of your hair, your lips on his cheek. You were sat facing him, back against the arm of the couch, legs curled in front of you, he sat up right with his feet planted on the ground, allowing his poster to relax a bit and lean against the back of your couch.
You took his relaxation as an opportunity to take him in. So this was what he was like in the morning: shyer, a bit stiffer, still so fucking handsome. His brown eyes were still a bit droopy with sleep (and likely a bit of light sensitivity), a light impression of the hem of your couch cushion had imprinted itself on his cheek, his hairstyle had fallen and his blonde strands now hung loosely in front of his face. And he still hasn't put a shirt on. His torso was like something in a museum. Strong, broad shoulders sat atop full, muscle built pectorals. The hair there was light and looked soft, it became darker and coarser leading down his toned stomach. You longed to run your tongue over every inch of him, but chose instead to sip your coffee and gawk somewhat openly. Finally the silence became too much and you spoke up again,
“When do I need to have you back to your bodyguard?” you teased sliding your knee to bump against his.
“My-- oh, Gojo, don’t worry about him. He’s likely forgotten all about it.” Nanami tried to cover up the hopefulness in his voice. “Do you have anywhere you need to be today?”
It was a Friday, it was plausible you would have to go into a job today, but he didn't know what you did for work so it was equally plausible that you, like him, were off. To his delight you shook your head, smiling coyly over the rim of your coffee cup, leaning back against the throw pillows he had arranged to rest his head last night. Feeling more confident now that he had shaken off the initial mortification, Nanami scooted closer to you on the couch, setting his mug down on your coffee table. He moved one hand to gently take your mug and place it on the coffee table beside his. He then put his hands at the top of your knees and pulled you closer to him, so you were nearly sitting in his lap.
“So I have a question.” He kept his hands on your legs as he spoke.
“Mm?” you were too stunned to form any actual words.
“Last night, you said something to me. Something about wanting to wait until this morning to fuck me,” he shocked himself at his boldness, “how do you feel about that now?”
Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly all encompassing as his hands touched your skin, this was the most you had touched since the dance floor. His fingertips felt like they were burning you, but the way a hot bath burns your skin just before it becomes relaxing.
This was it, you met his eyes, flicking down briefly to his lips, then back up,“I am still, very interested. What about you.”
Nanami moved one hand over your shoulder, to the back of your neck, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your lips and he spoke, “I can't believe you made me wait all night.”
He pushed his lips to yours, finally feeling the kiss you both had waited so desperately for. His lips were so soft, the coffee you prepared lingering on both of you. His hand on your neck rose to tangle in your hair and yours reached out to find his neck, his shoulder, his hair-- fucking ANYTHING. He leaned over you slightly, catching a momentary moan and sliding his tongue between your lips, he found himself moaning, feeling your tongue slide against his. Your hands were on his back now, feeling the muscles flex and retract at every turn of his head or readjustment of his hands. The hand not on your head how found your waist, sliding up and down your form savoring every roll and bump and divot his fingers could find. Finally, fucking finally he could touch you, his lips slotted against yours over and over, allowing your tongues adjust and readjust, it was messy and desperate and so passionate, Nanami kissed you like he would never kiss you or anyone else every again. Like a man who knew he could die tomorrow and never again know the warmth of a kiss this intense. You pulled away briefly for air and before his hungry lips could pull you back down you started to remove your top. He met your hands half way and finished the motion for you, you hadn't put a bra on since waking up, opting instead for the thick sweatshirt instead. Your chest was now as exposed as his was. As desperate as he was to have your lips on his again, he took a moment to admire you. Your breasts were full, and round enough to fit perfectly in his grip, nipples hardened already in your exhilaration, still so reactive for him. He wondered if you were wet already, and if so- how wet were you. He couldn't wait to find out. He was staring, lost in his thoughts of how best to appreciate everything you were giving him. So much care, so much trust, your beautiful body. He wanted to know how best to show you what it meant to him.
You squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. Since you shed your top he was staring at you. You didn't mind it at first, but it was starting to make you self conscious. You weren't insecure about your body, but the intensity of his gaze, how you could nearly hear his mind racing, made you desperate to know what he thought. Finally he broke his gaze away from your chest, raising up one hand to hold your right breast firmly, he looked deep into your eyes moving to kiss you again, softer and more intimately but still just as passionate as before.
“So beautiful…” he said in between kisses, “Even better than I imagined. You’re so beautiful.”
You moaned against his lips as he massaged your chest. He redirected his kisses down the side of your neck, across your collarbone and right to the breast held in his hand. He kissed around the nipple before finally taking it into his mouth. A haughty moan was pulled from you as he sucked hard, eyes flicking up to watch you arch under his mouth. He moved to the otherside, and your hand took refuge in the short hair at the back of his neck. The cropped undercut left little to grip, so your nails dug lightly into his scalp. He moaned around your nipple, eyes rolling back slightly, and hips jutting into the couch involuntarily.
You marvel at his reaction, letting out a small chuckle before moving your nails across his hair again, “You like that?”
He nods wordlessly, mouth still full of you. He knew he was kissing hard enough to bruise, he didn't care. The taste of your skin, the feeling of your body under his, of your fingers in your hair had him feeling drunker than last night. He couldn't get enough of you, he was truly insatiable. He began to move to return to the first side of your chest when you pulled him back up to your mouth, kissing him hard.
“‘Need you.” you pleaded against him
“Need you too, so fucking bad.” He agreed, leaning back upright, and bringing you with him.
You pulled off and stood up quickly, your boobs bouncing as you moved, he would have been embarrassed of the sizable tent growing in the borrowed sweatpants, if he had had any remaining brain power to think about anything other than fucking you. But he didn’t. He stood up and followed you into your bedroom. You had a queen bed, a small wardrobe, a vanity table that appeared to double as a work desk and maybe moonlighted as a craft station. He couldn’t wait to find out what clothes went in what drawers, maybe eventually you would let him keep some of his work clothes here so he could spend the night on weekdays. You turned to face him before reaching the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down once again to kiss you. His hands fell to your exposed waist, the skin so soft and supple, they teased along the topline of your shorts, lingering to be told the next move. Without him having to ask, you nodded against his lips, and his hands dipped underneath the waist band, finding not underwear but only skin. His hands gripped into the meat of your ass, pulling moans from both of you. Your own hands had slipped down his stomach and began to remove the second hand pants from him as well. Finding the tangled up positioning complicated, you both pulled away briefly to remove the last of your clothing before you led him in climbing on the bed. He followed suit, ogling openly at how your body curved and folded and stretched with every motion. You were nearly serpentine the way your hips shifted climbing onto your bed. His cock was so hard between his legs, pre cum dripping onto your comforter as he followed your crawl. As you turned onto your back, he was right behind you, moving himself between your legs to meet your lips once more. A hand started on the back of one of your thighs, causing you to shiver deliciously.
“You're so sensitive.” He praised, sliding a finger feather light from your ass to the back of your knee.
You mewled unabashedly, proving his point. Finger trailing back down, his hands now gripped both of your thighs, he was on his knees before you, parting your legs further to finally, FINALLY look right at your glistening wet pussy. He nearly fainted at the sight. Lower lips parted to reveal the most beautiful, most delicious looking pussy he had ever seen. He couldn't stop himself, he leaned right down and planted a kiss directly onto it. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation, the taste, the smell, the feel of your pussy lips against his mouth, soft pubic hair brushing his nose and he gave a long lick from bottom to top.
“Thank you,” he was so grateful to you. For last night, for taking care of him, for being here this morning, for being here at all, he couldn't believe he had found you like this, and he planned to make the most of his chance.
Never in your life had you been thanked by someone eating your pussy. But here was Kento Nanami devouring you like he hadn't eaten in weeks and whimpering gratitudes into your wetness. You hadn't had time to even realize his intentions before he pushed his tongue between your lips, and once he had your brain had short circuited, causing you to assume the initial “thank you” had been all in your head. It wasn't until it was a mantra he clung to while increasing his ferocity that you realized he really was thanking you. Your hands flew to his hair again, this time pushing back the longer strands in the front that had gathered in his face. You pulled hard when he first sucked your clit into his mouth, the moan he let out sent vibrations up your body and added to the pleasure he was already giving you. Your legs were over his shoulders, your hands in his hair, his mouth was taking you apart one lap at a time, one of his hands found your breasts again, there was so much sensation it was like he knew precisely how to make you unravel before him.
Nanami didn't even realize he was rutting his hips into your mattress, his body desperately seeking friction to his painfully hard cock. He didnt think he had been this hard in years, he couldnt think at-fucking-all. The only thing on his mind was how good you tasted, how pretty you sounded above him, he wanted to hear you say his name, he wanted to make you say his name. He brought his free hand up and slid two of his fingers up and down your folds, getting them thoroughly wet before stopping them just in front of your already clenching hole.
“Do you want these?” his voice is even lower than before, mouth pornographically drenched in you.
You nodded helplessly, just looking at him between your legs threatening to make you cum. He gave a rough squeeze to the breast he held, “No.” he corrected, “ask me.”
You knew what game he wanted to play now, you knew he could tell how much wetter you had just gotten at his darker tone and rougher grip, the tiny showcase of his strength already sending your mind reeling to know how rough he could really get with you. But not right now, now you needed him, any of him, inside of you more than you needed air. So you’ll play along.
“Please, oh fuck please Kento, please put your fingers inside me, i need it. I need it so bad, please.”
More than pleased with your efforts, he slides his fingers into you, they go in so easily, youre so fucking wet. He resumes his meal, already itching to taste you again, now using his fingers to draw even more wetness out of you and onto his tongue. He curls his fingers slightly upward and your moans raise in pitch. He’s hit it, if he keeps this up you’ll cum in no time. You're panting, your moaning, you’re nearly screaming and Kento continues to thrust his long fingers into you, hitting your g spot with inhuman accuracy. You can feel it, you’re nearly there.
“K-Kento i’m..oh fuck i..I’m cumming of fuck I--”, a half scream-half moan rips through your lungs robbing you of the end of your sentence as he pulls your orgasm out of you. You're shaking, you’re pulling his hair, you’re repeating his name over and over until it's completely garbled in your mouth. He takes everything you give him, holding your hips down firmly so you stay connected to his mouth, not letting up with his fingers until he's satisfied you’re through the totality of your first climax. He continues lazy licks as you come down from your high, slowly easing out his fingers and sucking those clean as well.
From your spot on your back you look down at him still panting and dazed from cumming harder than you thought possible with another person. You and your trusty vibrator had made some good memories, but you never expected someone could make you cum like that on the first try. He knew it too, he could see it on your face as he savored the remnants of your cum on his fingers. You moved your hands to his shoulders, weakly pulling, urging him to come up to you. He followed your lead and moved his body over you. You could finally see how fucking hard he was. And how fucking big he was. Just by looking you had to assume he was seven or eight inches long, and he was thick, thicker towards the head than at the base, two pretty veins wrapped around him, the tip was so pink it was nearly red, sticky with precum and still weeping. It curved upward, wanting to rest against his lower abdomen, and the darker blond hair there that grew at the base of him. He clearly kept it groomed, it not being too long or unkempt, but you were grateful it was there. The monstrous thing would probably only look more intimidating without it.
He could see that you were doing the same mental calculations he had seen in every partner he had ever had, and he tucked away the immature arrogant pride and chose to instead kiss the side of your mouth, along your jaw, and up to the shell of your ear,
“It’ll fit, you're already so wet for me, and if it doesn't fit all in one go, that's okay. We can work our way up to it. Trust me.” He kissed your neck soothingly, and that was all you needed. You could already feel yourself dampening again, you wanted so desperately to please him, had just made you cum so hard, you had to at least try to settle the score. Finding his lips once again, you pulled him into another desperate kiss, this time trailing your hand down and wrapping your hand around his cock. Using his already collected precum to coat his shaft, you moved your hand up and down a few times, trying to find the right rhythm before his hand gripped your wrist sternly, forcing you to look him in the eye,
“I nearly came already just from eating your pussy, if you touch me like that I’ll cum right now and I have to be inside of you at least once before then.” he moves your hand away from him and above your head. You keep it there, although direction is ungiven, and he seems pleased by this. He moves to his knees between your legs, Wrapping your legs around his waist, he grips his desperate cock and slides it against your pussy, collecting as much arousal as he can. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows how big he is, he knows if he bottoms out without enough prep it won’t feel good for you the way it would for him, he wants you to feel good. He wants you to make that sound again. That pretty scream of his name and pure pleasure. You watch him as he becomes laser focused on the point where you'll be connected in mere moments, you feel honored, in a way to see him like this. He’s being so attentive, so thoughtful and he's making you feel so good. Your hand reaches up and touches the side of his face, and he leans into your palm, nuzzling into it.
“I trust you, Kento. Please, baby, fill me up, I need you so bad, please fuck me.”
He presses a kiss to the heel of your hand, the light breaks in your voice making cock twitch in his own hand, he can’t wait any longer, he begins easing himself inside. He tries, he really tries to go as slow as he can, but hes so fucked out and desperate he cant control his movements as well as he usually would. Feeling him push inside of you, you’ve never been so full in your life, he stretches you so nicely, a slight burn but the combination of foreplay and your first orgasm soothe any pain or anxiety you may have had. His eyes are closed, his brows are furrowed, lips parted and still wet. He looks so beautiful like this. You think he's finally gotten all the way in as he stops his movements, you couldn't be more wrong, his hands lift your hips up slightly, more aligned with his pelvis and he slides back out an inch, before pushing the rest of his length inside of you. You feel him against your cervix, you feel him along every inch inside of you.
Looking down at you, he finally opens his eyes, you look so beautiful filled with him. Mouth dropped open, a warm flush settling over your chest and neck, one hand gripping his arm tightly, the other buried in the blanket beneath you. He wants to keep you like this forever, he attempts to push even deeper, seeing how far you can really take him. Gasping your back arches away from his grasp, but he pulls you back to him.
“Just like this, take it all. Look at you, such a good girl for me. Taking every inch.” His praise coaxes you to relax again. He's so deep inside of you, it feels amazing, “You think I can move now, baby?”
You nod desperately. He starts a slow thrust, opening you up little by little. He's hitting every spot inside of you, you don't know how but you can already feel another orgasm building from just the first few thrusts.
“How do you expect me to fuck you properly, when she wont let me go.” he teases above you, sliding his fingers in a V shape along your innermost fold, right where you’ve gripped around him so tightly.
“‘Mm sorry.” you gasp out barely registering the conversation.
“Oh fuck,” he sputters, finally able to pull completely out before diving back in.
Youre finally warmed up enough for him to fuck completely. He pulls on your legs to place over his shoulder as he deepens his thrusts. Your moans are syncing with his, his movements are starting to become jerky again, trying to control himself as much as possible, Kento brings a thumb to circle your clit making you see stars behind your eyelids, when you open your eyes the only thing you can see his him, gripping onto you leg firmly, staring intently at how well you’re taking him, watching himself move in and out of you. He feels you start to grow tighter around him before you can even start to whimper out,
“Fuck, fuck, kento I---aughhh.” you came around him with no warning,the feeling of you pussy spasming and tightening around him is nearly enough for him to lose his own. He releases a deep moan.
“Where can I cum, please baby, fuck where do you want me to cum, i’m so fucking close.” he can feel the sweat dripping down his face, he’s so dangerously close to blowing it inside of you. He wants to so badly, but he needs to hear you want him to.
“Inside, please, inside me, i need you to fill me up, please fuck.”
Music to his fucking ears, he carried on with his thrusts as you continue begging him to cum inside of you. Your wicked tongue is so dangerous, anything you asked of him in this moment he would do, as long as it meant he could stay like this forever. His thrusts grow shorter, faster, more frantic, he’s truly rutting against you, so deseperate for release the only word on his lips is a repetition of “fuck” and your name. It sounds so good coming from him, like he was born to say it. Finally, he lets out a long strangled cry, coming from low in his belly. You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as his release covers your inner walls. He thrusts a few more times, emptying himself completely before stilling his movements, still locked inside of you.
Heavy pants fill the room, cutting through the thickened air. Nanami collapses over you, resting his head on your chest, the sound of your heart quickening underneath him cutting a smile into his face. You brush the front of his hair off his head once more, cycling your fingers through the sweat-dampened strands. Contented, satisfied sighs escaped both of you, neither of you spoke, neither of you wanted to, not wanting anything to break up this bliss of this moment.
Morning light dripped through your window curtains, golden rays illuminating his features, the freckles on his cheeks, the soft wrinkles by his eyes, a small scar cut into the arch of one eyebrow. He really was beautiful, you wondered how many people had gotten to see him like this. A man of his stature, his strength, completely unguarded. One of his large hands found yours, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your fingers, so sweet, so intimate. You really could fall in love with him. Finally, he looked up to face you, eyes catching the light and turning gold, he winced lightly, still feeling the sensitivity of his hangover. You flattened your palm in the path of the sun’s beam, offering his tender eyes solace in the shade. The gesture is short lived as he moves up to press his lips against yours again, his still buried cock shifting and igniting your inner nerves once again. Feeling you begin to tremble, Nanami wills himself to pull out and move onto his back next to you, one large arm wrapping around you, desperate to not be parted from you for even a second. You rest your forehead against the side of his neck snuggling up to his side. His smell fills your nose, the lingering cologne that you first smelled on the club’s crowded floor, mixed with something so uniquely and naturally him. You felt his lips press onto your forehead, arms pulling you tighter to his side.
Kento was the first to break the silence, “would you want to have dinner with me tonight?”
Your lips curve warmly already imagining how handsome he’ll look like in a nice restaurant, candlelight flicking over his face, maybe he’ll even wear his glasses.
“I’d love that.”
Author’s notes:
Okay thank you guys! I hope you enjoyed!I know I did, I know I said it earlie but I haven’t written in forever so I would love to hear some feedback! Don’t be scared, I know I can take it!
it’s up on Ao3 too.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk oneshot#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami kento#jjk x reader#jjk x you#fem reader#pwp fics#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#jujutsu geto#geto suguru#shoko ieiri#jjk shoko#jjk gojo#satosugu#but like in the background#geto is alive because I said so#ijichi kiyotaka#smut#nanami smut#kento nanami
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cullens coming in on the reader crying
The Cullens walking in on you crying
Sorry that this took so long, I literally got in a car crash. I guess that's what I get for deciding to write fanfic.
For right now, my requests are closed as I am currently trying to catch up :'(
Anyway here's your story! Thank you for being patient and I hope you like it!
Edward:
Unless he was away from home, you wouldn't have even been able to think sad thoughts before he was right behind you
But assuming he was away and didn't notice your turmoil until he was close to the home, he is instantly by your side
When he goes up to your room and sees you curled up on your shared bed, he is instantly worried
Frantically scanning your mind for every possible thing that could have made you as upset as you are right now
If it was a person, his first thought is violence
If someone said something to you, he is instantly flying out of the house and hunting them down
He gets so blinded by rage that he doesn't even stop to think that you might just want comfort at that moment
So unless you can call out to him before he can leave, you're gonna have to wait until he comes back
But after he comes back, or if this was never about a person in the first place, he is instantly holding you
Rubbing your arms, petting your hair, whispering words to you
After you've calmed down he's asking you what you need
Your favorite food? Your favorite movie? You want to go out somewhere? You name it, he'll do it
Won't leave your side the rest of the night
Alice:
I get the sense that she's a bit clingy
So just the fact that you were able to be alone long enough to cry without her noticing is a one in a million chance
Unlike Edward she does not resort to violence, however
In a flash she is by your side, petting your hair, drying your tears, and asking you what's wrong
No matter what the issue is, she will stay by your side
She already has your favorite takeout on the way, your favorite movie on the TV, your favorite drink in a cup beside you, and your favorite pajamas neatly folded waiting for you to change
She will spend the whole night talking to you softly, braiding/messing with your hair (or just running her fingers through it if it's not long enough), and telling jokes she knows you'll laugh at
Doesn't leave your side
She doesn't even make you get up early to spend forever choosing the perfect outfit for you the next day
If it was a person who was making you sad, she goes out of her way to walk you to classes where she knows you'll see them
If they try anything in the future she is not afraid to stand up for you
Jasper:
He senses your mood change from a mile away
Like literally
He is out on a hunt with Emmett and he feels your mood change and he can feel the tears falling from your eyes
Jaguar or whatever the hell he had be damned he is running home
Wastes no time in going to your side
Asks what's wrong and then calmly listens
He brushes away the tears from your eyes and holds you in his arms as you let it all out
He'll make little snarky comments if this was about someone being mean
Is your 'yes' man
"I just want him to die!" "I completely agree, darlin'"
Again he is your personal servant for the night
Food, movie, drive around town going at least 100 mph
You name it, it's done
He's also not one to get violent, though
He knows his own limits
He is still very sensitive to blood
Is not willing to put their whole livelihoods at risk just to put some douche in their place
Rosalie:
As soon as she heard the first sob, she was up the stairs and in your room
Instantly cradling you, holding your head, giving you kisses on the cheeks, doing anything to calm you down
Once you finally muster up the words to say what happened, she is shushing you
After you explain, I mean
She doesn't want you just mumbling on and on
Because now she's in 'fix it' mode
Is running you a nice, warm bath with candles and bath bombs and everything
She cooks you something warm and nice
Puts on your favorite show or movie and lays next to you until you fall asleep
But if someone did this to you...
As soon as you're asleep she is up and out of the house
She might enlist the help of Emmett or Edward
Their tires are slashed, all of their shampoo is Nair, all of their clothes have been shrunk in the wash, etc.
She wouldn't tell you what she did
That's her little secret ;)
Emmett:
He gets a little scared at first
He doesn't really know how to deal with crying and really big emotions
I mean the biggest emotions he's ever felt were hunger and fear
Either way as soon as he hears you crying he is done with whatever else he was doing and is by your side
He sort of just.. sits there
He's rubbing your back and trying to be supportive and a listening ear
He will let all of your tears soak his shirt he does not care
Once you calm down enough you're gonna have to be the one to ask him to do things
Don't be scared to ask, he will do anything you want
He will ask you if you want him to go beat up the person who made you sad (if that's what happened)
But that's only half a joke
If you say no and laugh he'll laugh too
But once you're asleep....
He is out the door
That person is legitimately missing the next day
Police cannot find their body
Or any sign of them at all
Esme:
Ultimate comforter
She walked into the house after going grocery shopping for prop food for the house when she sees you
I feel like she would try to give you your space first
She would go up to you and ask if you're okay, but if you don't immediately say something she would quietly leave
When she was going through her own human heartbreaks all she wanted was to be alone
But she is on high alert
If you so much as whisper her name from all the way across the house she is there in an instant
Food, blankets, a board game, and maybe some wine if you're feelin it
She will help you make a blanket fort in the living room
(She also told everyone else to go away)
Listens intently and quietly while you explain everything that happened and why you're crying
If it's because of a self esteem issue she could start crying herself if she could
She thinks you are the most perfect person in the world
However if someone else did this to you I feel like she would have all of the tea
"What did you say their name was again? I recognize that last name, their mom was a hoe"
Carlisle:
He's really quiet about it
He doesn't want to intrude
So when he comes home and goes into his office to see you curled up on his chair crying he just leaves again
He slips a note to come into his room whenever you feel like it
When you get in there he has the bed all set up with pillows and blankets
The TV is on playing one of those YouTube videos of a crackling fireplace
Warm food is sitting on a tray for you
And he is sitting in the middle reading a book as he waited for you
He is there with open arms and open ears
He's really good at reading people
If you just want someone to talk at and complain to, he will happily sit there silently
If you want explanations, someone to bounce ideas off of, or an active listening partner he can do that too
I'm sorry but if you spoke bad about yourself he'd hit you with some bullshit
"Well actually *insert thing here* was very fashionable and considered very attractive in *insert random era here*"
And if it was someone else who said something to you it would also be insufferable
"The way you're describing this person sounds like they might have *insert mental illness here*"
Your best bet is to just tell him to stop talking
Vampire! Bella:
This girl knows sadness
I mean she was like a stationary rock for three months when Edward left her
She knows it sucked being alone too
So when she hears you crying she is right by your side
She also might have grabbed some tissues on her way
And oh she might have also grabbed the bowl of candy that Esme uses as decoration
And wow that's crazy she picked up your favorite sweatshirt of hers how weird
She is the ultimate yes man
If someone said something to you she chimes in about how she hates them too
If you're crying due to a self esteem issue she shoots that down immediately
If you're crying because of a movie she starts talking about how if she was human that movie would have made her cry too
The queen of yappersville
She could talk you to sleep
And tbh she probably does
The next day, if it was someone at school who made you cry, she gets all up in their face
Like I'm talking middle of the school hallway like "so I heard you had some things to say to my partner here yesterday, why don't you say them to me now?"
People are a little scared of her now
But at least no one messes with you anymore :)
#alice cullen#alice cullen x reader#bella swan#bella swan x reader#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#edward cullen#edward cullen x reader#esme cullen#esme cullen x reader#jasper cullen x reader#jasper hale x reader#jasper cullen#jasper hale#rosalie hale#rosalie hale x reader#rosalie cullen x reader#rosalie cullen#emmett cullen#emmett cullen x reader
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A Dame in Shining Armour. ☆
WORD COUNT: 1672
AUTHORS NOTE: I ran out of writinf juice while writing this.. sorry guys I'll make sure to add extra effort in the next chapter !! It's 2pm and I haven't eaten yet today.. 😭 (i have severe writers block)
⋆˙⟡ — Prologue Chapter
The last thing you remembered was being ambushed by treasure hoarders, and then everything else went blank. You would suddenly wake up in the middle of the night beside a camp-fire. Beside you was Kinich, the person you were instructed to assassinate and kill. You then suddenly came to the realization of having no idea whatsoever where you were.
“Shit- Where am I?!” You said, sitting up and looking around your surroundings.
When you sat up, you could see Kinich treating an injury on your leg. The smell of fresh blood was in the air, and it was coming from your face. You could feel the warmth of some blood dripping down your face. You quickly wiped off the blood on your face, before turning to look at Kinich again.
“You certainly woke up sooner than I expected.” Kinich said, looking at you. His tone of voice was quite monochrome, with a subtle hint of surprise.
You were so confused, you had just been ambushed, and next thing you knew you were being treated and taken care of by the person who you were meant to kill. You were super confused, why was Kinich treating your injured leg? Why were you sitting there? Why did Kinich save you? There were so many questions you wanted to ask but you needed to take a breather for a bit.
After a painfully awkward silence, you would finally talk. “Why am I here?.. And why did you save me?” you asked, your voice soft.
“I was following you in the forest out of suspicion of you being a treasure hoarder, but then real treasure hoarders ambushed you, and I was oh so coincidentally out there to save you.” He answers, his voice still cold and uncaring.
You nod at this, guess you were 2 steps behind the entire time.. at least you were able to conceal your identity as an assassin right?
“Oh shit, thanks I guess. I probably would’ve died if you weren’t there.” you said.
“No problem.” He replies, his voice still cold and monotone. It kind of irritated you how cold his voice was, but you didn’t let it bother you.
Eventually, everything goes silent as the two of you rest up for the night. You stayed in the small tent he set up and slept under a tree outside. Your movement was still quite limited and he was forced to carry you to the tent. As the night went on, a creeping silence was in the air as the two of you slept.
The next day, you would wake up in the tent. You would look around you and see food that had been prepared by Kinich right beside you, it appeared the food was for you since last night it wasn't there. There was a bit of meat, an apple and some water. You would drink the water, before crawling out of the tent. Outside, Kinich was preparing to leave the forest.
He turned to you. “Oh, you’re awake. I assume you can go out on your own now?” He questioned.
You checked your injury once again, before attempting to stand up. You winced and grunted in pain, it seems you weren’t quite ready yet. You would then sigh, before answering his question.
“Well, that’s a no..” You said, awkwardly.
Kinich would sigh, before helping you to stand up and balance yourself. You still limped a bit, but you were able to at the very least walk. Kinich then turned and grabbed something inside the tent before returning and looking at you.
“Follow me, leaving you alone here would be risky. It’d be better if you went with me.” He said, before turning away from you and then walking the opposite direction.
You just nodded and followed him, you had no idea where you were gonna go. You didn’t trust him that much, but you really didn’t have much of a choice right now. As the both of you walked, you stayed silent. The awkward tension in the air was painful and you hated it. You wanted to try to engage in conversation, so you decided to try to talk to him.
“So uh.. I never got your name.” You say, pretending to not know who he was.
“Kinich.” He answered, before asking “You?”
“Y/N.” You replied, you could hear him mutter something but it wasn’t clear to you what he said, you decided not to press him about it to avoid any suspicion.
The two of you then continued to walk, you were extremely confused on how to make the atmosphere be less. . awkward? Futile? Whatever.. You then noticed up-ahead a small resting area for traders, as well as a market. Kinich then turned to look at you.
“Stay by me, don’t go wandering off like a little child.” He advised.
It annoyed you how he treated you like a little child, you would mumble things under your breath about how you were ‘Perfectly capable of taking care of yourself’ despite being injured. Kinich probably heard all of this because he scoffed loudly, despite not saying anything.
The two of you then entered the market, and Kinich approached one of the sellers, he held up a small tooth towards the seller. “I did it, now pay up.” He said coldly. You looked at the tooth, and concluded it was probably a saurian tooth from the shape. You felt disgust at the sight of the vile tooth, it looked horrendous.
“Perfect.” The seller said, before handing in some mora to Kinich. “Maybe I’ll commission you again boy, you’ve satisfied me well.” He grinned, before turning away and putting the tooth in a little stash.
Kinich silently nodded before walking away as he dragged you. You looked at him confused, “Do you hunt saurians?” You asked cautiously.
He then nods. “For the right price, I will. But that was just a fake tooth, and I only hunt agressive saurians. The saurian he told me to hunt was good-natured.”
You stared at him in dismay, before shaking your head. “Should’ve expected it, you seem like the type of person to hunt saurians.. I think.” You said, shrugging.
The two of you then quickly left the market to avoid the commissioner, in fear of any suspicion. As you walked in the forest, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome Kinich looked on the side. . not that you liked him or anything! Emotional attachments could ruin this whole mission of yours to kill him, which was not very favorable.
As you walked, Kinich would suddenly pause before turning to you and yelling “Look out.” In a panic, you would move slightly to the left, avoiding a dagger that was flying towards you. Behind you, were a few treasure hoarders and the person who had commissioned Kinich to go and kill the saurian he mentioned earlier. Fortunately, Kinich had a feeling someone was following them.
“So, the tooth you gave me was a fake huh?” The commissioner said, irritation in his voice. “I’ll give you a choice, bring me the real deal, or I’ll fucking kill you.” He warned, he didn’t seem to be joking as well. You assumed that he overheard the conversation you had which Kinich earlier.
Kinich then scoffed. “Try and kill me, I dare you.” He said, already bringing out his weapon and pushing you aside. The 2 sides then began fighting, as you sat helplessly in the corner of it all. You wanted to help but you were unfortunately injured. Suddenly, one of the grunts had accidentally dropped their bow, which came to you. You crawled towards it, and then quickly grabbed the bow before shooting arrows towards the grunts.
[ This is way better than standing around! ]
You said in your head, as you shot arrows towards them. You then used a tree nearby to stand up in-order to use the bow more effectively. Suddenly, Kinich was about to be attacked from behind, but you quickly pushed him away on instinct as you yelled out his name.
“Kinich!” You said, helping him avoid the attack.
Thankfully neither of you were injured fatally from the attack, and Kinich quickly nodded looking at you, possibly thanking you. He then continued to fight the grunts and the commissioner. In the end, Kinich successfully managed to defeat all the grunts, including the commissioner. The commissioner would fall to the ground, muttering a few words.
“You- will.. fall…” He said, his dying words filled with shame and failure.
Kinich sighed, before helping you stand up. “You good?” He asked, ensuring your safety first before anything else.
“I think I’m good, aside from some minor bruises..” You replied, grunting a bit. Overall, aside from the previous injuries, you were fine.
The two of you then cleaned up the area a bit, before returning back to the camp. When arriving, you quickly sat down beside the campfire, exhausted from the day you had. Fortunately, Kinich had already prepared dinner in the morning, and it still tasted delicious. You both enjoyed the meal together in silence, the air filled with the sound of the warm flames from the campfire.
While eating, you then began to talk with Kinich. You learned that he was looking for a stable place to live and work at, but he hadn’t found a town or city that was good yet. A lot of the places in Natlan were unfortunately unsafe to live in.
You then looked at Kinich. “Hey uh.. Kinich, could I ask you something?” You asked, your voice subtly nervous.
“Go ahead.” He replied, as he ate an apple in his hand.
You took a deep breath, before then asking “Could I uh.. Come with you on your little adventure? Maybe be a.. travel buddy?” She said, grinning awkwardly.
Kinich was tongue tied at this, and was stunned for a few seconds, but he eventually replied. “Hm, sure. Why not I guess?..” He said.
You then instinctively hugged him out of joy “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” You then realized what you were doing and immediately pulled away. “A-Ah, force of habit.. my bad. . ” You said. You blushed subtly, but it wasn't noticeable.
Kinich was just at a loss for words, but then replied. “Oh, I- .. It’s fine. I don’t mind.” He said, a subtle blush on this face appeared.
End.
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the winner takes it all.
in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.
a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )
warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?
pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader
“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”
Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown.
“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.
“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”
Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).
“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction.
But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.
It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.
It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.
Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—
And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.
Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”
The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.
Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.
“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.
Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.
Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something?
Had Sebastian misread everything?
The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—
“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling.
“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.
It was obvious where you were.
“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”
Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.
The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.
I win.
Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.
It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.
The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.
Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.
“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”
Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”
Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”
“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”
Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”
“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”
Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague.
Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”
“—She’s been poisoned!”
Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.
“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”
Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it.
Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”
Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”
Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”
For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.
A moment passes.
“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”
Anne grins; “exactly.”
“What?” Sebastian cries.
“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”
The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.
“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”
Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”
Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.
-
Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.
Where were you?
Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.
You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.
“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.
He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.
“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!
Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”
“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”
“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”
Stunned, you let her words register.
Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.
“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.
“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”
Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”
The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”
But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.
“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”
Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”
“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”
“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.
I win.
“Now, Mr. Prewett.”
Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.
The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”
Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”
“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”
His words bring comfort, even if a little.
“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”
Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”
Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.
Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.
“I’m sorry.”
Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”
You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”
Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.”
Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.
He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”
You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”
“Jealous.”
He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.
“Incredibly jealous.”
You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”
He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.
Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”
You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy x reader#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian x reader#ominis gaunt#anne sallow
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Oscar piastri x reader
a/n: Started this a couple weeks ago. not my best work, but I have a bit of a writing block for the f1 driver, so i am trying.
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Oscar was walking through the paddock, listening to Lando rambling about random things. He stopped listening halfway through, when the Brit started to explain something about golf and Oscar couldn't care less.
He wanted to go to the motorhome, knowing you were there waiting for him. It was your first time back after having your son and he just wanted to show you around the paddock again.
You and Oscar had been high school sweethearts, starting dating at the age of 14. Now almost ten years later you were married and had your first child. Oliver wasn't completely planned but you two wouldn't have had it any other way. The little fella didn't attend the race, as he is still quite young, he is spending time with his grandmother in Australia. Nicole never turned down on seeing her grandson.
You had lots of criticism about marrying so young and having a child, that you didn't want to attend while you were pregnant. But now you had the baby and recovered from it, that you decided to support him in Austria for the grand prix.
Oscar spotted you talking to some people and walked up to you. He greeted you and placed a kiss on your head. Lando looked confused when he looked back, to see if he was still listening, and saw that the Aussie wasn't there anymore.
"Sorry that you had to waite,"
You took his hand in yours and smiled, "Don't worry, honey. They have been keeping me entertained." you say as you look at the Mclaren staff.
"Good, can i get you anything. You must be thirsty. Have you drink enough?" Oscar rambled as he grabbed a bottle of water from the table and gave it to you. You just laughed as you took it out of his hand. "I have, but thank you."
"If it isn't Mrs Piastri." you look up by the sound of an excited brit.
"Lando, hello." he hugs you and Oscar has to keep himself from pulling him away.
Lando smiled, oblivious to your husband's dagger look on the back of his neck. "How are you. Everything with you and Oliver?"
"I am good. Ollie is great too, i hope he doesn't tire his grandmother out too much this weekend."
"Didn't he want to attend the race. I am sure he would love to see uncle Lando win."
Oscar looked at the Britt with confusion. "He is quite young to attend mate."
You snicker and add, "And he much more wants to see his father win."
Lando pretended to be hurt before he got called away by his trainer. Oscar took this as a sign to finally kiss you and walked you outside.
"Everything is fine. You are not uncomfortable or anything?"
You wrapped your arm around his biceps and kissed his cheek. "I am a great Oscar. Nothing to worry about."
After some time, Oscar was called away to get ready for the race and you were seated in the Mclaren garage. You didn't want to walk around the paddock alone, the fear of a reporter walking up to you. You never really contacted with the other wags, as you had spent most of this season at home in Australia and last year was Oscars rookie season, so he didn't really know the drives good enough to introduce you to their girlfriends.
Lando didn't have a girlfriend so you weren't able to talk with her. So you sat alone as the whole garage was getting ready for the race. Oscar would start in p7 after track limits. Quite unfair, but the rules.
After qualy. You and Oscar spent the night eating some austrian food and watched a movie. You missed your son, but it was nice for once to have some time with only your husband.
#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#austria gp 2024#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1#f1#austrian gp 2024
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