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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago

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Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's thigh, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw stars as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

Tag list: @starksbabie @skyline4446 @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @nailbatanddungeon @munsonology @shadyhologrambanana

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #older!eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #older!eddie munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson fluff #mechanic!eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fan fiction

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james-bucky-barnackle · 7 months ago

Text

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you.

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.”

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

Check my other stuff out too? | M A S T E R L I S T

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #marvel #sebastian stan fanfic #actress!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

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justgiulia · 26 days ago

Note

HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE

get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind

Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.

Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"

It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday

🎊

You didn't tell them about your birthday?!

characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Azul Ashengrotto, Grimm.

author's note: let's just pretend I didn't just post a request from almost 2 years ago 😭 I'm deeply sorry. also, I apologize for not uploading anything this month but I'm working on something big 🙏

warnings: none

Ace Trappola

For his Immediate Reaction, he is offended in the most dramatic way possible. He gasps like you’ve committed the ultimate betrayal.

Once he processes that you skipped celebrating because of an overblot situation, Ace feels a bit guilty. He won’t outright admit it, but his teasing becomes a little softer as a result.

He insists on throwing you an over-the-top, borderline ridiculous party.

“I’m talking about party hats for everyone and cake so big Grimm can’t finish it—well, maybe.”

His idea of a celebration is half a joke, but you know he’s secretly serious about making it memorable and deep down, he’s touched by how considerate you were and wants to make sure you never feel overlooked again.

Deuce Spade

Deuce is visibly upset, almost like he’s the one who forgot your birthday, feeling terrible for not realizing sooner.

“But Prefect, birthdays are important! You deserve to be celebrated!”

He gets way too worked up about making it up to you, like it’s a mission, he might also wonder if he’s a bad friend for not noticing your birthday had passed. He’ll pay more attention to your subtle hints in the future (even if you weren’t giving any).

"I won’t let this happen again. Next time, we’ll do something amazing. I swear.”

You swear his sincerity makes you feel just as guilty for not telling him.

Azul Ashengrotto

Acts unbothered on the surface but lowkey blames himself for not catching on sooner, especially since he prides himself on knowing useful details about everyone (and blackmailing them).

Azul will subtly try to make it up to you in his own way. Maybe he gives you a small but meaningful gift with a nonchalant...

“Consider this a late birthday present.”

He might tease you about this later saying something like...

“Oh, Prefect, you wouldn’t hide something as important as a birthday from us again, would you? It’s not wise to keep secrets from your allies.”

But the teasing is his way of showing he cares.

Grimm

“You didn’t even tell me, your best pal?! Unbelievable!”

He paces around the room dramatically, occasionally glaring at you with exaggerated betrayal.

As much as he tries to play it off as annoyance, it’s clear he’s genuinely hurt that you didn’t trust him with such important information.

“I live here! I’m supposed to know these things!”

His solution to everything is cake.

“Alright, let’s bake a cake right now. Wait, no—you bake the cake, and I’ll taste-test it!”

Grimm will insist on celebrating your birthday retroactively, even if it’s something small. He’ll demand a party and act like it’s all for you, but deep down, he just wants to feel like he’s making things right.

Overall, they argue over how to properly celebrate your next birthday. Ace wants chaos, Deuce wants heartfelt, Grimm just wants food, and Azul suggests something elegant but practical.

Despite their differences, they all agree on one thing: they’re not letting you keep secrets like this again. You can expect everyone to be hyperaware of your birthday next year—and they’ll make sure it’s unforgettable.

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ctrlhope · 2 months ago

Text

Chasing Tornados (m)

synopsis: Ever since you were young, you found solstice in the clouds. Found haven in their winding winds, their chilling storms. Monsters of the air meant to destroy became your love— your safety. You know everything about the skies, yet you only want to know more about him. Wish for him to love you just as much as you do him. Your best friend. Your scorpion. Your impossible. Your Yoongi. -> part of the rest, relax, reserve series

m.yoongi x f.reader

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : wc: 21.0k+

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : genre: hybrid au, storm chasers au, soulmate au, friends/coworkers to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : content: scorpion hybrid!yoongi x human!reader, storm chaser!yoongi+reader, angst, semi-public sex (bathroom), fingering, p in v, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, bratty!reader a lil, rough sex, thigh riding, sex under the influence (alcohol), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, one mention of a breeding kink, yoongi has a tail, mates, misunderstandings, fights, jealousy, non-linear storytelling, reader and yoongi are both kinda stupid idk, but also v cute, angst but a happy ending <33

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : notes: heyyyyy it’s ur girl, back with another mc let’s play video!! kidding lol, sorry this took so long to write, life has been really hectic. trust me on this fic lol. but i rlly fell in love with these two nd I hope you do too <33 and i hope u enjoy my attempts at comedy! remember!! my requests are always open nd you can always feel free to send asks to characters <33

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

Wind wraps in your hair, blowing it– making it form into some beastly, monstrous thing around your head. Tangling your face, your eyes falling askew as it finds itself messing around your very being. The howls of gusts form in your ears, sounding of ghosts that would haunt any normal person.

But you, no. Not you. You live for this. Live for the rain that beats into your skin. Live for the cracks of thunder roaring above your head. Find serenity in the dark clouds that hang overhead, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In the knowledge that it's coming. That it’s coming soon.

The world acts as something greater- something more than yourself. A collective that has not a care for you or the people in it. A system acting for its own desires. A storm that takes and takes and takes until there's nothing left to give.

You love it. Love every second of it.

Even if you should be scared, even if you should be terrified– look for cover just like everyone else. To hide and cower away from the winding beast that destroys homes, takes down power lines. That kills. You can’t. Not when you feel this– this calling deep in your bones. This calling to know more. This calling to conquer a monster.

To chase the impossible.

You have always lived for that very thing. Have constructed your entire life around finding answers for beasts that are beyond reason, to construct something real from what can only be construed as fake. To look the storm in the eye, to live within it rather than to be consumed.

And that is exactly why you stand where you find yourself now. Tornado Alley. A storm brewing just in front of you. Warm air meeting cold, finding breath, coming to life.

Maybe you should be scared. Maybe you should let panic set you alight and carry you far, far away from the death spirals. Maybe you should do a lot of things, yet you can't. You can only stare in wonder as rain hits your flesh. As the wind tries to take your clothes, battering them in the breeze. As electricity cracks above your head, light debris flying past your form to entertain the forming tornadoes fury.

Bang, Bang, Bang.

Now that sound isn't from the storm, it can’t be. Sounds too much like metal, like a fist hitting it. Oh right, the car.

“(Y/n) get your ass in here, now!” His voice is loud, forced to so you could hear him above the storm. He would never yell otherwise. Never raise his voice a single decibel against you.

Your body turns to face him, a smile breaking across your cheeks without a second thought. Eyes turning to crescents, rain dripping down your cheeks.

Right, Yoongi.

The impossible.

You don’t know when it happened. It shouldn’t have happened. But you knew it did. Felt the shift in your soul whenever you looked at him, felt your blood pumping just a fraction faster whenever he was close. Felt yourself yearn to smell his signature Yoongi scent whenever you sat in his car, whenever he drove you around on one of your little escapades.

Maybe it was a year ago. Maybe less. Maybe more. You could never be sure– emotions never were your strong suit. But he knew that, and he didn’t care. Never pressured or pried, always just let the two of you be. Act in co-existence in a way you doubt two people could.

Your partner in crime, your solace among the disarray perpetuating every second of your job– your life. The only person you knew crazy enough to chase the storms with you. To risk their life driving you into the eye. Your right hand man. Your friend.

None of it should have happened. But it did anyway. Isn’t that always the way life goes? The same way the storms control the skies, he found himself controlling your heart with no will of his own. No knowledge of the underlying flutter that found its way into your guts the second he looked at you, nor any knowledge of the way your eyes fell into adoration when they fell on him.

Why did you have to fall in love with the storm?

You weren’t sure– never cared to look deeper into the fact. Never cared to think about why you couldn’t fathom a future without him. Never dared to dip into why the scrawny kid from your college has suddenly become a man before you. Never even thought to challenge the pre-disposed ideologies that held your friendship by its core.

No. You would never do anything as stupid as that.

Yes, you were a creature of impulse. Never the type to take into account the consequences your actions disclosed. But you like to chase the impossible. You would never think to actually attempt to change it. Especially when you could lose everything in the process. Lose him.

In more ways than one.

Plus, you know where he stands. Know he could never see you as anything more than a friend– a little sister. The hair ruffles, the slight glares he gives when men talk to you in the bars, the way he puts up with your ‘overly affectionate’ cuddles– as much as you wish the simple actions meant more, you knew they simply didn’t.

A big brother. Unfortunately for you, he knows that’s the role he plays in your life too well.

But he’s not your big brother. He's a man, you’re a woman. It’s not like you ever asked to get caught up in the stringers that tangled you together. Not like you ever asked for this crush to form.

“For fucks sake! (Y/n)!” His voice is louder now, a harsh yell pulling you from the thoughts that sunk you under the waves. His body forcing itself through the wind to get to you, arm raising to shield his face. “We have to fucking go!!”

He would admonish you later for getting too caught up in your own thoughts again– something you knew all too well. But when the storm was raging around you, it was almost easier to think. To get lost in the recesses of your brain until you drew the conclusion you had been looking for all along.

His hand grips your wrist now, dragging you back to the safety of your company truck all while scolding you harshly with words he never actually meant. Just his salt-coated concern peaking through the surface. And well, his concern about getting swallowed up by the storm. Yeah, most people worry about that kind of stuff. At least that’s what you suppose.

“Are you that fucking stupid?” He shouts roughly at you, forcing you to get in the passenger seat. His touch is gentle even if his words are strong. He always has been strong. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

He slams the door closed before you can say anything back– frustrated but not mad. Never mad at you. And for that you can’t help the giddy feeling on your lips. Your eyes watching him as he quickly walks to his side of the car, tail curled close to his back almost as if to protect himself.

Right, his tail. You forget about it a lot of the time– but at the same, you are so very fond of it. Smile whenever it moves in response to his emotions, giggle whenever he forgets about it himself, tripping over the thing.

You often forget Yoongi isn’t a full human. But it’s never played much of a role in your life, in your friendship. So you don’t really see the point to care. Choose to ignore the scorpion blood that runs through his veins and view him as any other person walking the face of the earth. It’s never bothered you.

Most people around you call you a fool anyway, it’s not much to add another reason to it.

“Ah~ Don’t worry, King Yoongi. I don’t plan on getting myself killed anytime soon.” You let out a gentle giggle as he finds his way into the car, pressing on the gas almost immediately and driving as fast as he can away.

His body is so rigid, so stressed. Yet you can’t be further from it. Your legs propped haphazardly on the dashboard, your body sinking deeper into the seat. You trust him. He always gets you out. Something about his special senses, probably. Maybe.

Actually, you don’t know. You should ask him about it later– how he can see in such horrid conditions.

“You will if I just leave you there.” He rolls his eyes, glancing over to you for only a second before managing back to the road, “Don’t think I won’t.”

“You won’t though.” He only scoffs, but you can see the smile at the corner of his mouth. It warms you almost as much as the sound of the rain– or maybe it's hail now, pelting the roof of the car.

“I could and I will.”

“But you won’t.”

“Just put your fucking seat belt on.” He grumbles, his voice getting a fraction louder as he turns the wheel harshly, a last second manoeuvre. A stick flying through the air past your window. A narrow avoidance.

The car bumps harshly as it drives, the roads narrow and in disarray. Swerving to avoid debris that litters the ground and jumping as it dips into potholes. It feels like a race. Makes you feel alive even as you click the belt into place– as he moves his tail across your frame to act as a second one.

You should be scared. Should be terrified of getting caught in the storm. But you trust Yoongi. You know he’ll always protect you.

“Did the other teams drop their equipment on time?” You ask, reaching below your seat and grabbing the computer. He sends you a pointed glance.

“According to the sensors we were the last ones.”

“Well we always are~” You mumble back, a little sing-song in your voice while your head tilts towards your chin. Eyes scanning the array of measurements that pop up on the screen– reading them, taking in their meaning.

It is your job, anyway.

“Who’s fault is that?” His words don’t perfectly cross your ears, never do when you're trying to focus. An input of too much information at once and a computer might explode! Aka your brain, aka he’s known for years you have selective hearing when trying to understand complicated things.

“Mhmm…” You quietly mumble out, fingers moving quickly to type as he finally drags the car out of the storm. Slows down to a more human speed as you type out a few observations, input pieces of code to make your readings more sensible.

You completely miss the small smile he sends your way, the tilt of his head trying to check. “Anything interesting?”

“Mmm… Nothing we haven’t seen before. Got a couple of cool 3D models of the storm your screen, though…” You tilt the laptop in his direction, showing him the model of the storm. Exactly how big it was, how fast it was moving. “Just an E2, but still pretty.”

“Yeah, had to’ve been to almost let it eat you.”

You roll your eyes, shutting the laptop as he pulls over to the side of the road, “Of course, I’d let anything as pretty as that take me out.”

He scoffs, “Anything, really?”

“Yeah, you know that guy on Attack on Titan that's like ‘oh i’d let a pretty female titan eat’-- Wait a second it is not my fault!” You suddenly announce, his words before finally registering in your mind, “You’re always tinkering with the the the bits!! That’s why it takes so long!”

You grump, crossing your arms. A fond smile finding its way to his lips.

“Yeah, cause the ‘bits’ are the real issue, aren’t they? Not you playing out music videos in your head while a tornado is hurrdaling at us?”

“Okay! That was one time! And totally not my fault!” You huff, not in any real annoyance, just simply banter. Yoongi always seemed to like your over-dramatic reactions anyway. “You said we could play Hurrcane!! By my girl Bridget Mendler! You know what that song does to me!”

He can only laugh in response, the gums of his mouth showing as he tilts his head back. Long black hair falling lower against his shoulders. Tail falling lax for the first time in forever. Crests shown in his eyes.

You like giving Yoongi your reactions if it means he can smile like this.

When he looks in your direction for a breef second, you can’t help but puff out your cheeks and stick out your tounge in pestilence. The action only causing him to shake his head, eyes returning to the road a little brighter than before.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. How could I possibly forget.” A thousand words are said behind his tone that you could never pick up on. Never notice. “You get so excited, like a kid. It’s funny.”

Your head jerks to look at him, a pointed glare in your eye, “She makes me feel things you can’t even hope to understand, Min.”

He rolls his own, “Uh huh. I’m sure.”

College. Senior Year. The perfect hell it bestows on all of its captors.

The combined effort of senior thesis’s, grad school searches, advanced level course work, and the unyielding need for money after graduation, as it turns out, is the best possible combination for stress any one person can find! How wonderful. Especially for you, with a stupid gpa you need to upkeep to keep your stupid scholarships, so you can get your stupid degree and get your stupid job–

Well, okay. Now you’re just spiralling.

Annoyed and tired has never been a good combination for everyday dreamers. Especially those that have been working their entire lives for a single goal. To chase their every last dying hope since they were a child. To become the very person they could only wish to be in their youth.

But in all fairness, your ass has been handed to you on a silver platter after your last exam grade was horribly, terribly slid to you face down against the table. A quiet note of “see me after class” listed on the top without reverie. Your thoughts a sudden cyclone vortexing you inward and onward, wishing you could tell the sweet summer child of your adolescence that you had failed her. That you were never going to be able to live inside a tornado as she had wished.

Oh. The monster that you were.

That was, at least, until you did meet with your professor. And, apparently, he wasn’t going to drop you from the class and (somehow) get you removed from the college like you had thought! Even better, he saw how hard you worked– how much you truly care. Deciding to lend a hand rather than pull it back. Giving you a building and a time to meet with a tutor he specifically picked out.

Someone he would apparently trust his life to. Your life– okay, academic career, to as well.

That’s how you found yourself now. Walking through a library that had to be older than your great grandparents– the scent of mildew filling your nose as you moved farther and farther into the recesses of the building.

Why, exactly, you had to meet in the deepest, darkest corner of the library at an absurd hour of the day confuses you even now. Annoys you a little, quite frankly. Leaving your dorm past 8pm feels like a nightmare.

But you trust your professor, you trust that he wouldn’t steer you wrong. Well, hope is probably a better term. One that more accurately portrays your inner conflicts as you make your way to the back conference table nestled deep within walls of encyclopaedias. Dust entrapping the air you sit in– age and memories baked in the walls.

At worst, that’s all you shall make. Memories. Call the whole thing a bust and look online for some tutors or go to a used bookstore and buy a few more outdated textbooks. At best, you’ll pass the class and become one of the best meteorologists the world has seen. No pressure on Mr. Mystery Tutor or anything. Obviously.

None at all.

Your fingers find themselves tapping against the table as you think; seat already taken, items already spread out as you wait. Just your ring finger over and over in a repeated motion– the beat of wind speeds picking up on a desert plane. The bubbling of magma under the surface of the earth. The–

“(Y/n)?” A husk of a voice breaks your almost monotonous silence, your tapping suddenly ceased as a chill travels down your spine. A chill from the tone of someone's voice alone– can you believe that?

Somewhere, once, when you were little, you heard that a chill runs down your spine whenever a serial killer passes by. But this isn't that. No, this is something entirely different. More familiar. More recognizant.

Your eyes shoot pitifully fast up at him, almost tilting your head as you take in the features. Black hair– maybe brown, baggy hoodie, slouched shoulders. One hand supporting the shrap of his bag that hangs over his shoulder.

No, you don’t know him. Maybe a future you does– one where a timeline passes over this exact spot. Where you’re friends already, maybe something more. Something safe. Though, that isn’t a very scientific explanation. One colleagues and professors may make fun of you for. You disregard the notion, only nodding your head to confirm.

He only mirrors the motion in return, seemingly not one for conversation himself. Finding himself pulling out the chair across from yours, setting himself inside of it. Wasting no time in pulling out his own belongings.

Laptop, textbook, notebook.

“The professor said you were having trouble with qualitative analysis of…” His voice trails off, and you can’t help but wonder how someone's voice can almost sound like a well-loved record. A tune that can’t quite find its sink– almost too rigid to hope itself melodic.

You listen to the same voice as it sings out the songs of your lessons. As he goes over the failed exam beat by beat. Explaining the first few questions in such simple terms anyone could understand them. Not in a way that felt condescending, no. Again, it just felt so warm that you couldn’t do anything but listen to him quietly. Absorbing everything without a single interruption.

Well, until question 7 at least. That is when you feel two synapses connecting in your brain reminding you of an ultra-important task that absolutely cannot be forgotten. A handshake. Your small hand cutting him off, reaching across the table without a second thought.

He stares at the pervasive hand as if it is something he’s never seen before. Never been offered in the first place. Something offensive to hurt rather than anything else.

Interesting.

“My dad always said you have to shake hands when you’re meeting someone. Or else it’s bad luck down the road. So…” You explain away simply, like it should be obvious to every person on the Earth. It should, honestly. But you’ve been told you have issues with thinking that way– that things obvious to you should be obvious to everyone else. That everyone else lives within the same bubble you’ve found yourself residing in your whole life.

You know it isn't true– that the bubble you’ve created is something you simply live in alone. Periphery finding itself resident to everyone else. But that’s awfully lonely, isn't it? You choose to think the former.

His shoulders slowly unfurl, defences slowly lowering as he meets your hand in the middle. Rough palm meeting yours, shaking slowly up and down before both sides pull away. A magnet short of attraction of two bodies as you pull away.

“Good.” You nod, pulling your knees up to hover off of the ground. Resting them against the edge of the table instead. “I don’t like bad luck either.”

There's a beat of silence, one that you don’t mind.

“Do you not like black cats then either?” His tone has an edge of pessimism to it. His defences considering a raise.

You, on the other hand, feel immediate offence. How dare he! “What?! Are you crazy! Or course I like them.”

You miss the crook of his lip into a light smirk, defences gone once more, “Well, normally they’re seen as bad luck…”

“That’s just a stereotype!” You instantly defend. Your body leaning over, moving your face closer to his.

He holds his arms up in defence, pencil still wedged between his fingers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. My bad completely.” He lets out a quiet chuckle at the end, you only puff out your cheeks.

“Entirely.” You huff quietly, almost sounding like a petulant child, “I would never judge something just off of how they’re born.” At that, he almost perks an ear.

“Really?” He asks, his eyebrows slowly raising, “Not even hybrids?”

Ah, hybrids. A common discussion other people find themselves having, one that you never really found the purpose of. Arguments on their rights, the ethics of keeping them as pets, on if they should even be classified as intelligent life. You hated all of them. Didn’t understand for a second why people kept themselves concerned with class divisions or keeping others subservient at all.

As far as you care, they’re the same as humans. Think like humans, act like humans. Another creature just as deserving the right to live and exist as all others. You don’t concern yourself with the difference in their existence– seeing them, treating them the same as you would any other person.

You can’t stand that others find different opinions than yourself. Cutting them off entirely for treating another living, breathing creature with the capacity to think for itself as less. Reminding you desperately that you live on the periphery.

“No, why should I care.” You scrunch your nose up at the notion you’d think otherwise. He takes the action differently. “They’re the same as everyone else.”

You surmise your ideologies simply, though you’re never sure if your words construe correctly. His results are inconclusive as well, letting out a quiet grunt. Dropping the subject. Keeping his words from revealing what is true.

“What else is bad luck then?”

You don’t notice the quick subject change, “Walking under ladders, whistling in the woods, doing your laundry on a sunday. …I can’t imagine saying Bloody Mary in a mirror 3 times is much help either.”

He pauses for a second, his eyes just looking at you. They’re sharp things– knives against a grinder maybe. Could even be too sharp to be human, if you cared to look a little closer. Cared to notice the differences between you and him.

But you don’t, nor will you probably ever. Just allow him to shake his head simply, let him return to your test questions without a single other thought leaking into that brain of yours. Only this time, you feel comfortable enough to ask a few more questions. Let him delve more deeply into the work without the threat of your mind wandering off to useless things. Allow the clock to tick later, later, later into the night– moving from your exam, to the most recent concept your class has been working on. Carefully treading the water, staying afloat as you finally begin to understand.

You hate to admit it, you really do for the sake of your pride alone, but he really is a good teacher. He doesn’t seem upset when you ask questions– no matter how stupid you are. He stays calm whenever you start to get frustrated, carefully talking you through it instead of getting upset himself. He seems so peaceful you almost want to hate him for it.

Almost, because between the gentle instructions and messy handwriting as the hours tick late into the night, jokes begin to crack freely between both of your tongues. Gentle jabs that mean nothing, topics construing into obscurity flowing into something more entertaining to discuss.

Though– he did seem to have pause when you told him you don't trust fish. Something about them thinking they’re better than you– of which he agreed. Not that they’re better than you, of course not. But that yeah… they do seem to have that kind of look in their eyes.

He feels the same way about birds, you learned. Interesting.

It isn’t until midnight that he calls it, a time you didn’t even think was plausible. You thought it was 9:30, 10 at the latest! There’s no way midnight could have come so soon! Just the idea of it sounded fake. But then you checked the clock in the library, then your phone, and now you don’t know what to think.

Time has never flown so simply with another person.

“I told you I wasn’t lying.” He has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you’ve decided means he’s feeling cocky and amused.

“You could… you could have changed all of them when I wasn’t looking! To trick me?”

“Yeah.. mhmm.. And what would that do.. For either of us..?”

“. . . I haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Right.” He smiles, a real smile that shows off his gums. You can’t help but reflect a smaller one back at him.

Once again he moves first, standing after he’s collected all his belongings. Tossing his bag over his shoulder while you hurry to catch up. Sliding your laptop inside before making sure your pens know their correct homes in the case–

What was that?

It was something so subtle anyone could have missed it. A mouse scurrying between cases, a piece of trash floating by. Something brown moving quickly in the corner of your eye. Something you neglected to notice. How could you not notice something so obvious?

When you look up at him– finally take the man you’ve spent the night with in his entirety, you see it. You missed it while he was sitting down, obviously trying to keep the thing from view, but now there was no hiding it. It was impossible to hide the thick brown tail that hung behind him in such a relaxed posture you wonder if he forgot about it, too.

You couldn’t help the instant fascination as you took the form of it in. The pretty segments it appeared to be broken into– 5 if you counted them correctly, all stacked neatly upon one another. All leading to a stinger resting at the end, gently curled inward rather than held in defence.

The gentleness of the man himself contrasted so nicely with the firmness of the tail.

So pretty.

It was only then that he must’ve realised his mistake. Must’ve noticed your silence, followed your eye line to see exactly where it was laying. Realised that he let his guard down too quickly– understood too quickly that you didn’t already know about his… condition. His state of existence.

The professor must’ve not told you. Probably thought it was a negligible factor even though it never is. Maybe when he came in you missed it, you didn’t actually look up at him until he sat down anyway. Until his tail was already tucked deep under the chair for protection.

Without realising it, his tail raises. Curing behind his back, the tip looking even sharper than it normally does. Meanwhile his body tenses up entirely. Defence utterly encasing his form.

Fuck, and then your eyebrows are raising– and next you’re gonna start screaming and he’ll have to run so he doesn’t get taken in by hybrid services and–

“Can I touch it?” Your voice brings him back to reality, back from the ‘end-of times’ it found itself careening towards. Now he’s just, he’s just confused. Did you just ask him if you could touch it? Why aren’t you acting like he’s suddenly the scum of the earth? That’s how hybrids are treated anyway.

Even if you said otherwise earlier, that doesn’t mean much to someone who's never experienced otherwise.

“. . . oh… or maybe that’s rude. Forget it. Sorry.” You rush out instead, taking his appearance softly. Honestly, you don’t know much about what could be considered ‘rude’ to hybrids… you don’t have much experience with them at all, actually.

“You’re not…” He fumbles with himself, his tail remaining raised like a predator. He forces himself taller, forces himself to appear more together. More ready to ‘strike’-- figuratively. He clears his throat, “What, you have something you want to say?”

You cock your head back sharply, rising to your feet, “No, why would I?” You feel just as confused as him. Maybe asking to touch a hybrid’s parts is more taboo than you thought…

“Look I didn't mean any offence it was just pretty and–”

“Just fucking run off and report me if you’re going to–”

Both sentences are said at the same time from each party, the response mirroring exactly as well. Both faces twist into that of almost confusion and offence, upset that the other would dare say something like that for entirely different reasons.

“What are you talking about?” Your question comes from annoyance, almost anger that he would think you would do something as nasty as reporting him when he was just trying to live his life.

His comes from the simple word pretty. Why would you think his appendage was anything of the sort? The one thing his entire life that’s set him back– the very blood in his veins betraying him. The reason he can’t be accepted by normal people. The reason he has to take stupid night classes at this university with any professor that is actually willing to accept him. To accept his under the table payments.

The very reason he’ll never get a real job– just hope to be adopted by someone who will let him do what he wants. Just hope that the authorities don’t find him, or that his own landlord won’t turn him in before he can do that.

And you think it’s pretty? No fucking sane person would.

“Why would you think I’d report you?” Your tone is hurt, the pang in his heart hurting just as much. He hates that he feels it, and he hates that he wants to comfort you more than anything else. Stupid fucking scorpion genes.

“What else would you do?” He scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Literally nothing. I would do nothing.” You glare at him slightly, “I don’t care that you’re a hybrid, why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” His tone is accusatory, but he doesn’t quite know what else to make it.

“Okay, let’s go down the list, yeah?” The spite in your tone lets the both of you know this night is taking a sour turn, “You can think, you can feel, oh right, you’re your own fucking person.”

You roll your eyes, “I know words don’t mean much, probably, but I view literally every creature as equal.” He still stands firm, your words and his life experiences battling in his mind. You sigh, this isn’t going anywhere. “Listen, I know it probably doesn’t mean much, and like, we both just met so I know it doesn’t hold much value. But I’m really sorry for whatever you’ve gone through in your life. It couldn’t have been easy. But I really, truly don’t care about whatever laws are in place. As far as I’m concerned, you’re equal to me.”

Your tone had gone soft, more gentle. Trying to dispel the hostility that hung fragrant in the air. But it looks like he can’t move. Doesn’t really know how after all of that. You probably wouldn’t either– though you’re not sure, you’ve never been good at putting yourself in other people's shoes. You just hope he believes you… that’s all you can do.

“I’ll head out first. You have my number, text me if you want to meet again.” You start towards the door, the ball left in the other man’s court. You wish you could’ve at least got his name first but.. He never introduced himself. Hmm, maybe you did the handshake too late, that’s why the bad luck kicked in.

“You think it’s pretty?” You almost don’t hear his words, too far away.

You turn your body back to face him, a gentle smile crocheted onto your lips, “Of course I do. Exquisite.”

The two of you stand in silence for a minute longer, trying to navigate the confusing energy moving between both of your forms. It’s only when you turn back around again to leave that he finally speaks. The simple word of his name.

“Yoongi.”

“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Yoongi.” You say softly, tilting your head to look at him once again, “I really do hope we can be friends.”

But that was years ago. Friends came and went; now you want so much more. More than you could ever quite articulate. You know it now as you sit with him, an after-chase ritual in whatever cheap roadside bar you can find. Never finding yourselves regulars, always on the move– save for the presence of each other.

“I don’t think luck is real, you know.” Yoongi drawls into your ear, the scent of alcohol heavy on his tongue. His body leaning against yours in the crowded bar, hair dancing against the side of your neck all while his tail finds itself curled around your back. A simple motion that could only be described as protective, possessive.

“What?!” You dramatically slap your hand against your mouth, an action you picked up from him. Alcohol inhibiting both of your minds only slightly, letting words flow a little easier than they otherwise might. Letting touch feel a little more commonplace.

An afterwork tradition, if you will.

“You’re insane!” You announce, slapping his shoulder playfully, “You’re gonna make bad luck get us Yoongi!! Take it back!”

Your voice is almost a whine, and he wants to fold because of it.

“You say that like you aren’t a stem major!” He laughs, his eyes shining like crescent moons you want to live on. Wait, does that even make sense?

“That doesn’t matter! We're like– the least scienc-y!! Our whole job is practically based on luck! Oh my god!” Now you’re stopping your foot a little, and his tail finds itself pulling you closer.

“Yeah, but you have no idea how many ladder’s I’ve walked under and you still say I have the best luck.” He giggles– fucking giggles!! Can you believe the audacity of this man?!

“Yoongi!! How dare you!! Do you know how many E5s’ you’ve cost us?! Probably like.. Like 20!”

“Mm, maybe yours just keeps it up for the both of us. Huh?” You humph, you fucking humph, and maybe– just maybe, Yoongi feels himself going a little insane. Forgetting himself– what you are meant to be to him.

“That’s the only plausible explanation… obviously…”

He hums, “Obviously.”

There’s a brief moment, a flicker in the air of something indescribable. Something that makes your skin feel a quiet, humble flame strumming under the surface. That makes you feel as if there's electricity pulsing through the space left between your noses. That makes you feel almost invincible as your eyes meet his warm brown tones.

You’ve come to love earthy hues since meeting Yoongi. He’s full of them, after all.

But, the flame of the match is blown out far too quick for you to truly comprehend what that moment was. Why it felt the way it did. Instead, your left sputtering with the absence of Yoongi, the slow withdrawal of his form.

“I’ll go get us more drinks.” His gravelly voice mutters just loud enough to hear over the music. You can only nod along, already missing the security of the tail curled around your back.

At least he isn’t so shy about it’s presence anymore. At least not like he was back then– trying to hide it, trying to make the rest of the world forget about it. You never understood why, no, how could you when you love it so much? Find it just another integral part of Yoongi for you to love.

You can even smile now, thinking back to how cute he got the first time he let you touch it. How he turned red to his ears, the chill that travelled down his spine. The flick of it as it chased after your hand when you retreated. It was too fucking cute back then… mm. Maybe that’s when you first started to grow a crush on the man.

Or maybe it was always how struck he was when you complimented him. Pushed it aside like it meant nothing, yet he always seemed a little out of it for the rest of your time spent together. You suppose Yoongi has always been reticent to your gaze; but then again, he was always aloof when it came to his feelings as it was. Nothing to dwell on, honestly.

You’ve never tried to hide your feelings– have never wanted to, really. You don’t think you even know how. But you’re not going to force them on him either. If he wants to act, the door has always been open. And it will remain open to him, probably forever.

“How’d the chase go this time?” A voice carries you from your head, your feet returning to the solid ground. Jisung, a fellow chaser finds himself in the seat next to yours– the seat Yoongi used to fill. A friend in the industry, you could say. Though, you take to thinking he probably wants more.

“Mmm… ‘bout as good as any other this late into the season…” You hum, taking a sip from your half-full glass, “Never as good around this time of year.”

Your sigh makes a gentle smile grow onto his plush lips, “Really? I thought you fell in love with every storm.” He lets out a quiet snort, swirling his own cup. His eyes seem to remain focused on you, though.

“Of course I do. Everyone is perfect and special!” You declare a smile stretching back, “However, like every caring mother, I do have favourites.”

“I don’t think– that’s not–” He laughs, “Aren’t parents not supposed to have favourites?”

“You really believe that Lie, Sung? Bold of you.”

“Well, do you have favourite pets?”

“Of course not!! How dare– okay, yeah. It’s the goldfish. His name is Guppie and he is my pride and joy. Named after my first love in elementary school~ imagine I let out a dreamy sigh here.”

His laugh makes your own come out as well, “Your first love was a… fish?”

“What, no?”

“They were named Guppie? … Like a fish…”

“Nickname, of course.” You giggle, girlish and cute.

“Do you give nicknames to everyone then?” He moves his face closer in wonder, excitement, “What’s mine? You have to tell me.”

You hum, tapping your chin in contemplation, “I don’t know ‘Sung, nicknames are reserved for extra special people in my life…”

“Ah!” He clutches his chest, looking down before popping his head up. Puppy dog eyes, “I’m not extra special? You wound me (Y/n)! You really do! And I really thought we had something, I can’t believe this.”

You laugh loudly at the dramatic act– emotions on the sleeve are so much more fun to display. You know he probably means none of it, but it’s still adorable. You can’t help but lean in closer, slapping his chest gently.

“Shh! Shh! You’re too loud! Too loud! You’re extra special!” The conversation is easy, just as it always is with Jisung. Though it isn’t the same– you can’t help but notice that fact. It feels easy, smooth… though like there is a wall in the way of true connection. Like there is a way you are meant to act. Just like there always is.

Always is with everyone but Yoongi.

It’s strange. But something you’ve grown attached to. Fond of.

He clears his throat behind you– think of the devil and he shall appear. Or however the saying goes. You’ve never been good with them, anyway. Your strengths and your faults, the simple facts have become all too aware of over time. Not that you mind them, of course. You just accept them as a fact of ‘you’. Just like your bubble, just like your impossible.

“Oh, hey!” Jisung is bright as always, giving a gentle wave to the man behind you.

“Poongie!” You smile, your inebriated mind already attempting to wrap itself around his torso. It’s not your fault you already missed him!

Jisung erupts in a fit of giggles, “Poongie?! That’s his?!”

“Yep! Mixture of Pookie and Yoongi. He loves it.” He certainly does, but he would never admit it. Actually, he feels kind of odd right now. More… stiff than he was before he left. Like something… darker? Is radiating off of him. Though, it’s not actually dark. Just kind of… displeased. You can't seem to find the right word.

“I can tell.” Jisung rolls his eyes, “He looks thrilled.”

That only seems to further upset the man, his tail slowly curling around itself on instinct. Moving to find purchase on your waist. To pull you closer. To claim you. Sober thoughts slipping into a drunk mind, his actions freer than he normally allows them to be.

Jealousy. That’s all he feels. Jealous that you just called someone who’s been openly hitting on you the entire season ‘extra special’. How fucking childish of him. He knows that even now, but he doesn’t want to stop. Everything that normally does feels as though they’ve gone into hibernation at this very moment.

He just wants you.

The next thing the Scorpion knows, he’s setting the drinks on the counter while you gaff away. Lifting you by your hips, sliding his form underneath yours with a grunt. Placing you on his lap and finally, making sure you’re secure to him with a hug of his tail around your midsection.

He almost feels proud at your little squeal of surprise. At the blush on your cheeks. That’s right. He’s the only special one to you. This other man– other predator should know it.

He knows he’ll regret this display in the morning. That he’ll feel utterly embarrassed by the whole thing. But right now Min Yoongi feels on top of the world.

“Yoongi! What are you doing!” You hiccup out in surprise, trying to turn to face him. But he holds you still, holds you secure. Holds you safe just like he always makes sure you are. Gives you a response only by the shrug of his shoulders, his chin finding purchase in the crook of your neck.

“W-well.. Fine then!” You huff, puffing out your cheeks just a little, “I’ll stay, but… just for a little! I’ll stay here for a little…” You grow a little quiet near the end, a little nervous. But you couldn’t feel more warm than in this moment. So heavenly.

Jisung only laughs, what else is he meant to do anyway? A small, petulant part of Yoongi was hoping he’d run for the hills– he would with such aggressive scent marking. But then again, the other man is a human, probably doesn’t know anything about such a thing.

The other part of Yoongi almost wants him to watch. Wants the other man to watch you drown in your own blush, watch as you learn more and more into the firm chest behind you. Feel the connection you two have that–

Oh, you’re laughing again too, what a pretty sound. The conversation picking up once again– Jisung is a conversationalist isn’t he. Yoongi almost wishes he was the same. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. It makes people do drastic things. It makes Yoongi want to do even more drastic things.

If only he was human.

If he was human he'd do so much more. Would have already done so much more. But now, in his current state of being, he couldn’t handle it. He wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection. He knows it. Knows it in the way mother’s comfort their children after one look at his tail, and knows it in the way you look at storms.

Yoongi isn’t a tornado. You would never look at him the same way you look at them. With such love and light in your eyes.

But god he wants you to, he wants you to more than anything. He wants to be an option. He wants to be the center of your universe just like those dumb fuck storms are. He wants to be the wind that plays with your hair, the rain that kisses your skin. He wants to be the very thing that envelopes your entire consciousness just like those storms do.

And maybe, just maybe if he presses himself close enough to you he can. He can pretend with the poison in his blood that you like him. He can be yours, even if it's only for a night.

He would always be yours. You never his’.

And as the night ticks on, venom bubbling up every second that ticks, he feels himself becoming looser. Feels you melting into his grip as pretty drinks and florals fill your mind. Feels your scent starting to overpower his nose as his mind blurs with thoughts of you. Almost feels the tangle of souls joining in the way he’s always wished them to.

“Yoonie..” You hum, fingers coming up loosely to move through his hair in a way they only do when the two of you are alone, “He went to get a drink, can let me go now…seats open.”

He almost feels annoyed at your words, and you can’t help but let the disappointment of them bubble, too. You don’t want him to let you go. In fact, you’d be happy staying like this forever. But you know Yoongi, you know he doesn’t like to be so… affectionate in public. He’s one to show his love quietly, something else you’ve come to find endearing over the years you’ve spent by his side.

Only, you don’t feel relieved movements like you expected to, no. While his arms go lax, his tail almost pulls tighter. The two sides of him fighting, arguing over what to do next. And next, next you feel something so warm. So soft against your neck that you don’t know what to do.

Lips. His lips are against your neck. A gentle press to the side of the column robbing you of your ability to breath, ability to think. Normal affectionate pecks are common, sure, when the two of you have spent too long reaserching and analysing the your brains are working a little slower than they normally do, they might even be seen as common. But this kiss, this kiss was slow. It was languid. It was so much more. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Have to?” His words are quiet, gruff. Lips moving against your neck as he talks. Spoken to you alone in the world, emboldened by the alluring mix of jealousy and alcohol.

You shake your head, much emboldened by the same. He never has to let you go.

“Good.” You feel your heart in your ears, ready to explode as he moves his arm back around you, back to your hip to hold you steady, “Mine.”

Neither of you ever expected that single, life altering word to ever leave his lips.

“Y-Yours?” You can’t help yourself, you need to make sure you heard him right. Needed to make sure this whole thing wasn’t a dream. That his lips, slowly kissing along the ridge of your shoulder are real and not a figment of your imagination.

Though he doesn’t say it again, doesn’t will himself to. Instead the sound you hear is something low, one you’ve never heard him use against you. A gentle growl lodged in the back of his throat, confirming it. Confirming everything for your head and your heart to hear.

“Yours…” You try again, tilting your head to the side, giving him more room. He hums in assurance, in want.

You think you could die happy.

The impossible. The impossible is claiming you for himself. Is holding the heart of the love struck college student, the nervous new-hire, the assured scientist all in the palm of his hand. Is confirming your affections. Confirming the fire brewing deep in your belly. The coals that have been slowly and tenderly cared for over time.

Yoongi and the storms– they’re both your impossible, your fate finding reality.

“Y-Yoongi I—” He tilts your chin, cutting you off mid sentence. Passion alight beneath the subtle glow of amber that robs you of your words. Lets you know exactly what you need to. Makes the fire burst into flames as his fingers gently dig into your hip, makes your entire body heat as he rubs in gentle circles.

“I don’t like him.” He grunts, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Keeps you from me.”

“No one can keep me from you.” The reply is instant, your lips barely missing his. “You’re for me.”

God, and at that moment you know that the prettiest noise in the world is Yoongi’s quiet groan. The way his eyes close, the way he practically pulls you down into his lap sends you into overdrive. The way he slowly rolls his own up is enough to send you into a puddle of your former being.

The rest of the world is gone, entirely melted away from reality. Now, now it’s just you and Yoongi. Cornered away from the rest of the bar, out of sight. Out of mind. Just his hands slowly moving your hips to be seated on just one of his thighs, his tail making sure you’re secure. Just your scent driving him crazy.

He can tell how wet you already are. He can tell how much you want him, just as he wants you.

The contact is rough, a little maddening. His jeans pressing up against yours, the thin cotton of your panties not doing much to stop the harsh heat. But you don’t want it to stop. You want him to do whatever he wants.

“You’re wet.” He isn't shy to admit it. Isn’t shy to admit the smell invading his nose. Isn’t shy to let you know exactly what it’s doing to him with the rock of your hips. Letting you feel something hard pressed right against your back.

“Shut up…” You instantly complain, whining as you lean your back against his chest, further into his touch. He cracks a soft smile at your words, rocking you back and forth so slowly, so carefully. Letting you feel every flex of the muscle, every rough movement of the jean against your clit. Savouring every second now that the threat of the other man has dissipated. Taking his time in case all of this is a dream and he will have to give you up tomorrow.

“Why? Not cute when I say it?” He chuckles, jumping his leg slightly off the ground, sending a wave through your body. A shock of pleasure to the system that has a gentle moan tumbling from your lips. That has your hips sending a gentle buck back. That has your brain feeling as though it might become mush.

Yoongi is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it.

“Hey guys I…” Yoongi’s eyes find Jisung before your own do. Before the flushed expression on your face can quell and certainly before you can find a coherent thought. And suddenly the lazy foreplay in the corner of the bar is gone. Suddenly Yoongi is no more than an animal once again.

“O-Oh! Jisung! S-sorry let me just–” You try, but there isn’t any use. No, Yoongi is pissed you even said his name. Pissed you tried to move away from him. Why would you try to move away from him? A predator with his m– prey being stolen right out from under him. A predator that has everything to gain and everything to lose.

Yoongi isn’t thinking anymore as he stands, just barely keeping you upright as he pulls you away. Grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom, locks the door once you’re both inside.

Sanity is no longer present. Only the jealousy he feels inside. Only annoyance at the other man for trying to take you away from him. You said he was yours, that he was made for you. And the other predator dared try to take you? Take you from him when you were about to share something so sweet?

Yoongi knows he isn’t thinking right. Knows he might regret it in the morning– but he also knows if he doesn’t do something now he’ll regret it even more. For once, for once in his life he wants to be selfish. For once in his life he wants to forget he can’t ever have you because he’s a hybrid. For once he just wants you.

You’d let him have you. Over and over again. For the rest of your lives.

“Yoongi what are you–” He cuts you off with his lips against your own for he doesn’t know the answer. He’s letting himself just exist for once. Exist in the way he wants to without care. And all he wants right now is to kiss you.

You couldn’t want anything more. Have been waiting your entire life to feel the press of his lips against your own. Kiss him back without a second thought– without reprieve. Let your mouth slip open easily for him, let everything get as messy as he wants.

The time for gentle foreplay is over. No, now is the time to consume.

Without a second thought he lifts you by your hips, your hands falling into place against his shoulder. Letting him lead, letting him take control as he fits his body against yours with such perfect harmony. Nobody would doubt you’re two pieces of the same puzzle, ready to fit together for the rest of eternity.

He groans when he feels your hips press against his, as he feels your heat seep through layers of clothing. Cusses when he finally pulls back, sees the saliva collected at the corner of your lips. The hazy look in your eye that tells him you need him just as much as he needs you. That you want him so terribly you can’t help but fall against him for love, for safety.

It’s just the alcohol.

Yoongi practically growls at his own thoughts, his tail rising in defence, in defiance against his own brain. Forcing the thoughts away, forcing everything away other than your body in the room. Other than your desire in the room.

When his mind is no longer clouded he can come to terms with all of this, come to terms with his feelings and shove them so far back down they’ll never see the light of day– but now, right now he needs this. Needs it more than anything.

“Want you.” He grunts, his knees falling onto the dirty bathroom floor. His hands splay against your thighs, feeling them. Worshipping the skin as if it is an altar. As if you’re his religion. “Can I?”

He doesn’t have to ask, he doesn’t need to. He would never have to ask you. Every single time you’d fall for the storm that is Min Yoongi. Over and over again. As if it’s as easy as breathing, as easy as thinking.

The answer is even easier now– as your heart beats in your ears, as arousal pools in your gut. As his blunt fingernails dig themselves ever so slightly into your flesh, begging for entry. Begging for you to just give in. His cheeks a flush, his hair already a wreck. His chest rising and falling and thinking just for you.

He looks like a god.

“W-want you.” Your stutter makes you feel meak, but his groan of approval makes you feel strong. Makes you feel like your bubble has been popped, like the world finally has meaning past tornados and cataclysms.

He takes your approval without any grace. Without a second to even think before he’s pulling your pants down with such hunger, such carnal need. His throat releases a groan of desire as your scent hits him at full force, as you give yourself to him.

He can’t help himself as he presses his face against your panties, his nose right against your clit as he inhales. Takes in all of you for himself. Lets himself be greedy.

“Y-Yoongi!” You squeak in surprise, the noise tapering into a whine. How could he do something so embarrassing! What is wrong with–

You can’t even finish the thought before his fingers pull your panties to the side, his eyes focused directly on your wet, needy cunt. “Smell good.”

If you weren’t entirely red before, you certainly are now. There is no way you couldn’t be. Not with the hunger in his eyes. The fire in your belly.

His tongue darts out, licking your pussy directly without a second thought. Parting your lips, collecting your arousal on his tongue. Tasting you, basking in everything you. Listening to the pretty little moan that comes from your parted lips. Falling apart without a second thought.

And suddenly he’s hungry. Hungrier than he’s ever been in his entire life. Hungry in a way that he’s sure can only be satiated by you. By making you his.

“Fuck, (Y/n)...” He almost sounds more affected than you are, like he could cum from your taste alone. But he can’t, he won’t let himself. He wants, needs to be inside of you more than everything. Needs to fuck you, consume every part of you like he so selfishly craves.

“Gotta get you ready…” He’s talking to himself more than to you as he stands again, trying to keep himself from succumbing to the scorpion screaming at him to just claim you as his. He can only be selfish for tonight. This night. “You gonna be quiet for me? Can’t get caught.”

“Please…” Your voice is practically a whimper, practically begging him to just do something, anything. And who is he to deny you of such simple pleasures? Especially when you whine just for him, moan just for him. Jut your hips out ever so slightly to present yourself just to him.

His thumb finds your clit almost instantly as you call out to him. Rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves with quick, fast precision while another digit presses against your leaking hole. Preparing you, getting you ready for the intrusion.

Your voice is a siren’s song, and Yoongi then knows why pirates used to get lost at sea. Used to become entrapped by the mermaids that sang for them. He feels himself going crazy now, as your head tilts back. As your cunt flutters around nothing, begging him to slide his finger inside just as you both desperately crave.

A buck of your hips is all he needs to fuck the digit inside, trusting it in and out slowly. Making sure it goes as deep as it can before curling and slowly retracting. Increasing pace with the volume of your sounds, with the circle of your clit. Combining sensation, driving you further and further into the clouds with every movement.

It is then you know that his hands are a deadly poison, one you know you will fall apart to. Especially with the gentle sounds of his grunts, with the push of a second finger into your hole. With his heated gaze focused on nothing but how well you’re taking him, how you’re stretching so prettily around his fingers.

You place your hand over your mouth, try to keep your moans to a minimum. Try to suppress every little sound that threatens to spill past your lips. Yet you can’t help it, how could you when he knows exactly where to curl his fingers? When they press right against that little bundle of nerves inside. When they rub against you so perfectly.

“Y-Yoongi!” You accidentally shout, your hips bucking in surprise. The band growing tighter and tighter in your lower abdomen. Your eyes clouding with pleasure as your head feels lighter and lighter.

He only smirks, gentle and sinful. “Found it.”

He thrusts his fingers back in the exact same way, their pace hurried. Concise. Locating that exact same spot over and over again, curling his fingers up just right. Timing the strokes perfectly with a roll of your clit. You feel like you could scream, you’re going to scream.

“Y-You’re so mean!” You whimper, the hand on your clit moving to hold your thighs down. To resist your messy bucking. Resist your adorable begging for more. This other thumb moving to press against your clit instead.

Then you see it, see the pretty brown thing that had you so enamoured to begin with. Remember just how sensitive it was when you touched it first, and just how mean he’s being to you now.

With all the clarity you have left in your little brain you reach for his tail, hold it in your tiny hands. Whimper at how big it is, how strong it feels. How much it protects you. And without a second thought, you wrap your lips around the tip of it and moan. Using it as a gag, using it to stop your cries.

Yoongi suddenly tenses below you, his entire frame shifting as your mouth sucks on the tip. Your eyes closed in concentration, little tears bubbling up in the corners as you whine around him. Fully focused on your pleasure, the feeling of his fingers inside of you– so close to falling apart.

He thinks he could cum at that second. He’s sure of it.

A choked groan leaves his own lips as his fingers resume their pace, his senses going into overdrive. No longer thinking, no longer able to do anything but act. But take and take and give and give until there's nothing left.

And god he wants to burn this picture into his brain. Wants to cement it into the rest of his thoughts, his very being. His movements are messier, faster as he fucks his fingers into your cunt. Doesn’t care about the noise as his tail moves on its own, slowly thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your g-spot battered, you clit burning with pleasure.

Sounds that resemble words fall deaf on your tongue as the band finally breaks, as the world around you spins. As you find euphoria from Yoongi’s fingers. The eye of the storm befalling your very being as electricity moves down your spine as the winds subside.

You’re left panting in front of him, your walls tightening as he slowly coaxes you through it. Helps you feel every ounce of pleasure that you deserve. Kisses your shoulder gently, softly, watching you come down from your high.

You can only whine at the affection, the fog lifting for a brief second as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You feel so empty– too empty. You still want him. You still want so much more.

You try to say his name, try to vocalise but it only sends vibrations down his tail. A groan leaving his lips, heat still heavy in his eyes. You realise his tail is still moving, still slowly moving in and out of your mouth. You know he isn’t finished.

You know you never want him to be.

You raise your leg up, kicking, trying to push his pants down. Begging them to just drop a little lower. To get his cock out so he can fuck you properly. So he can make you feel so much more full of everything him.

He lets out a chuckle of a scoff, his bangs falling in front of his eyes as he shakes his head, “Needy.” He grunts, yet he feels the exact same way. Removing his tail from your mouth, finally letting you speak. Ignoring the way his heart hammers at the sight of your puffy, glossed lips.

“Shut up.” Is the only reply you can muster, hands quickly moving to try and shove his pants down. To try and get him inside of you. He just smiles, the predatory glint never leaving his eyes. The dig of his nails never leaving your thigh.

Finally, with your messy attempts you urge them down, force the annoying material down his thighs, his boxers moving right along with it. And fuck, you can’t help but gawk. Can’t help but whine because shit, you’ve never seen a cock so pretty! What the hell! That isn’t fair! None of this is fair and he hates you!

“You hate me.” You whimper, letting him take the lead once again. Following as he slowly leans you back, manoeuvres your hips in exactly the way he wants. Presents your puffy, fluttering cunt just for him. Messy and aching, desperate for more.

“Maybe.” He smiles, teasing you. He’s teasing you! Can you believe that! You certainly can’t, a whine and a gentle smack to his chest telling him everything he needs to hear. Yet you’re forgetting about it all too quickly as you feel the head of something hard gently press against your lips.

In your hazed stupor, you completely missed the action. The way he gripped his cock in his hands, the languid strokes he’s made up and down the length. The way he flicked his thumb over the head just before he decided to so sinfully trace it along your slit. Teasing himself, tracing around your hole with the head. You think he might kill you.

He thinks much of the same.

“I’m on birth control.” You messily squeak out of the blue, eyes trained between your bodies where he’s so close. So very close to fucking himself inside. Into being exactly where you want him. Snapping that final line you two could never come back from.

His eyes dart up to your face, something dark in the iris. Something neither of you address as he finally lets go of his last bit of reserve. As his lips slam into yours, consuming your very being.

His hand finds your leg, pulling it up, resting it against his hip to draw you closer. In one single thrust drawing all the air out of your lungs, removing all thoughts from your head as he thrusts his entire length inside. Filling you, stretching you in the most perfect way. In a way you never imagined another person could do.

Your cries are drowned by his lips, his own curses lost in the same. The stretch, the burn is subtle, yet you could never want anything less. Anything more than the euphoric feeling of Yoongi feeling your ever being.

“Shit…” He finally lets himself breathe, let himself have a moment to feel you. Feel your plush walls wrapped around his length, feel you fluttering around him so perfectly. You’re going to make him insane.

He pants softly, trying to wait– trying to hold himself back from fucking you so hard you can’t walk. So hard he’ll have to carry you out of this shitty bar. So that everyone will know what the two of you did. Just who you belong to.

You give an experimental wiggle of your hips, a signal to move. A signal to stop holding back. The only signal that he needs.

“Yoongi!” The cry is loud, but he can’t seem to care anymore. The pace he takes is anything but slow. It's fast, hard. Rushed. Like he can’t wait a single second longer. Can’t waist a fucking millisecond doing anything else other than laying claim to your soul.

His hips snap against your own, his cock practically hitting your cervix with every thrust. His cock pressed against that same bundle inside every time he draws back, every time he fills you again and again. It’s messy– messy and so wet. So perfect.

“Fuck, fuck.” He mutters to himself, damp hair falling into his eyes, “Have to be quick, gonna fuck you hard, okay?”

He drawls, scratchy. Rough. Pressing his hips fully against yours, fully feeling your slick heat. The lewd noises bouncing against the walls, filling the space. Sending a symphony into your strumming ears. Into your already worn out frame.

You nod in agreement quickly, almost dumbly as you try to fall into a rhythm. Try to meet his movements the best you can. It feels pointless, all of it does. Trying to do anything feels so pointless when he’s fucking you so relentlessly. Like he’s waited his entire life for this moment and he’d rather die than waste another second.

Fucking you like it means something. Like you mean everything.

“Shit, (Y/n). So fucking wet.” He groans, his head rolling back, no longer able to look at the mess between your legs, “So needy.”

You whine, shaking your head. Trying to gain a semblance of reality when it feels like it has been shattered in the most beautiful way.

“Sh-Shut up!” You whine, your walls clenching around his cock, “A-Am! Am not!”

Your denial sends a wave of something through Yoongi. Something that makes him growl, that makes his sight darken just a bit more.

“You’re not?” He scoffs, his eyes finding your own, reading you like an open book, “Little fucking liar.”

His pace changes, taking shape into a different beast entirely. Something new. His thrusts turn from messy, hurried to sharp and precise– the pace never changing. Every single thrust knocking the wind from your lungs, changing the very shape of your DNA to scream for him and only him.

“Y-Yoongi what the fuck?!” You whine, your head knocking back, hitting the glass behind you. Even more of your brain cells scrambling, trying to stay in reality. Trying not to float off in the great beyond where Yoongi wants you to stay.

“Hmm?” He grunts, his eyes focused back downwards. Right to where your slick coats him, to where a pretty white ring has formed around the base. He won’t last long. Even if he wants to keep fucking you forever, he knows he’s done for. “Thought you weren’t needy.”

You whine, unable to stop the band from pulling tight in your gut once again. Unable to stop the pleasure from coursing through your veins. Already a wreck– your body warm with sweat and your hole fluttering uselessly around him. Trying to draw him back in over and over.

Never get him to leave.

His voice is suddenly in your ear, far closer than you remember him being. Far closer than you can manage him being. Fuck, and now his thumb is pressing against your clit again. You don’t know what you can do, what to do.

“You can cum if you just admit it, human.” You’re going insane. “Tell me how fucking needy you are for me. C’mon, do it. I know you can.”

It’s over for you. You had no clue Yoongi could ever be like this, no clue just how much you’d want it. How much you’d love it. Even as tears bubble in the corners of your eyes from the pleasure, even as your hips buck up weakly to meet his thrusts. As his cock makes you feel like you’re about to enter the pearly gates.

You know you love it.

“Y-Yoongi!” You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders with so much strength you think they might bruise. Hell, you’re sure he’s bruised your hips. There isn’t much difference. “I-I!”

“Mhmm..” He hums, sounding entirely unaffected on the surface, yet it’s clear he’s falling apart just as much as you. Clear in the way his hips stutter so slightly, losing their pace. Clear in the way he holds you tighter and tighter. The way his tail curls possessively around your leg. “You can do it. Say it, human.”

“I-I’m needy!” You whine, forgetting your volume, “I-I need you, Yoongi!”

Just like that, he’s tumbling off the edge. Your words acting as an anchor, as the very thing he’s wanted to hear for years. His hips stuttering inside of you, filling your cunt with his cum without a second thought.

“Cum, pretty thing.” His voice is guttural. A command as your legs lock around him. His thumb never giving your clit reprise. while he doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb. Your own release finding you the second you feel his cock twitch inside of you, the moment you feel his cum leak inside.

Winds swirl at your very being. Lifting you higher and higher into the clouds as your walls clench around him. Milking him for everything, for all he’s worth. Making sure every drop lands inside, making sure you stay nice and full of him while your head wanders into the clouds. While every bit of your being feels fireworks.

Your legs don’t even let go as the two of you slowly begin to calm down. As your heart rates try to return to normal and air returns to your lungs. As Yoongi’s length slowly begins to soften inside of your cute, worn little cunt.

You don’t want to let go. You never want to let go.

His grip slowly softens on your hip. Thumb working to rub slow, gentle circles in their place. His lips finding the column of your throat once more– gentle, nipping kisses find home over the marks he left while sitting at the bar. Not any real bonding marks like his scorpion may have wanted, but pretty red things that claim your skin in a human way.

Your fingers find his strands, knotting themselves in them. Keeping his head where it belongs. You’ve never felt more loved, more wanted in this moment.

You never want it to end.

“Needy…” He smiles to himself, shaking his head softly. His hair tickles your ear. “Can’t believe you actually said it.”

“Y-you!” You try, realising how severely you’re still out of breath. You hate how quickly he’s bounced back. “You made me! You ass!”

He only smiles, shaking his head. Still in complete and utter disbelief that this is real, “I wanted to hear it. You were cute.”

Your legs finally relax when you whine. They easily fall on either side of him, kicking slightly in petulance as he pulls away from your cunt. Removing himself from you, smiling as his cum starts to collect at your opening.

This still all has to be a dream for him, it has to be.

“You hate me!” You repeat again, warmth coming to your cheeks once more as his hands find your cunt. One thump pulling your lip open, letting him see just how much of a mess he’s made you. Letting him watch as his cum drips from your core.

“Maybe.” He can’t help the fond glow in his eyes as he kisses your cheek. A thought coming to the forefront of his brain that he forces back. Another thought he could never let surface, not even now as you’re stuffed with his cum.

His scorpion still preens all the same, though. Filled with thoughts of kids. Thoughts Yoongi, the human, not the scorpion, would never say aloud. Drunk, tipsy, or sober.

He reaches for the dispenser, grabbing a few paper towels before turning on the sink and running them under. Not the best tool, but it will do.

“Well, I don’t hate you…” You’re blushing as you say the words, almost embarrassed without real reason to be. What you just did, it was so much more than ‘I don’t hate you.’ At least, it wasn’t to you. You hope it wasn’t for him either.

You help him with his pants, reaching your hands down and pulling them up slowly for him, “I don’t hate you either.” He rolls his eyes, gently cleaning the space between your legs.

“Awkward if you did.” You huff, lifting your hips as he moves your underwear back in place. Stay hovering as he slides your jeans back up as well.

He leaves a gentle press against your temple, offering you a hand as you hop off the counter. Hips and legs already entirely too sore, a whine shedding your throat as you let him know the pain. All while he only laughs, patting your butt as he helps you walk.

The picture of domesticity.

Neither of you address the elephant in the room, both for entirely different reasons. For radically different realities. The morning would be better anyway, you surmise. With fluid thoughts and no liquor in your system.

You assume Yoongi feels the same way as you both walk home. Gentle shoulders and banter thrown around as casually as ever. The only solid thing the both of you know: you can never go back to that bar again.

God, your fucking head hurts. Maybe?? Maybe everything hurts? When the hell did the sun get so loud?! Since when did light feel like fucking screaming, man?! This isn’t fair! Nothing is fair and the world hates you! Exclusively you, and no one but you!

No, that’s not true. That’s completely illogical, actually. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. Especially when your head is buzzing and your stomach is already growling for some kind of food.

Oh god, food would be so good right now. Warm steamy pancakes, eggs, some kind of potato with a dash of Yoongi to eat it with like you do every morning.

Suddenly, the other side of the bed feels entirely too cold. Freezing. A void empty where the warmth you felt last night should reside.

He fell asleep there, you're sure of it. You remember the feeling of his arms around you, the soft snores that left his lips after you both stumbled into bed. Barely getting undressed before falling into your bed. You remember everything about last night. So much so that you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks at the memory. The thought of everything done in that dingy bathroom, all the words spoken, the care professed.

Even if you were tipsy, you would never forget it. You would never regret it. Were waiting to wake up in his arms to make everything official– a long overdue conversation that would finally set in motion your lives together.

So where the hell is he?

A pout forms on your lips as you stretch, your body too tight for the morning and even more so for your search. The soreness in your hips, the bruises he left from his grip a brutal reminder of his absence as you sit up, your eyes squinting as you scope the scene.

You don’t think you like what you see– it’s a weird feeling, honestly. His bag is gone, his shoes are gone, his clothes are gone. For the first time in all the years you’ve known him, he feels utterly gone. Not a speck of him in your room, not a single sign he was even on this trip with you.

Does he regret…

The frown pulls deeper as you reach for your phone. You definitely don’t like this feeling. Like he wasn’t even there to begin with after everything that just happened.

“Ah, stop it.” You say to yourself, one of your hands coming up to gently pat your cheek. You hate where your brain is going so quickly. Maybe you’re just a sop that needed more aftercare than he knew about– yeah, that's probably it. He probably just wanted to go back to his own room and shower before you had to work today. See, that makes much more sense, doesn’t it? You nod your head, almost in agreement with your thoughts. Set on your decision, on the most-likely-possible solution.

[9:27am] To: Poongie

> Goodmorning :> I hope you slept well

> Did you wanna go get breakfast at the diner? I think I’m dying and only hashbrowns can fix me unfortunately

You wish you could say you weren’t affected– wish you could say you weren’t sitting there, waiting for a response. Heart beating out of your chest like a schoolgirl in love. It’s silly, isn’t it? What emotions can make you feel inside and out. How they can seem to affect every part of your being without even trying.

You suppose storms are the same way. Suppose all natural forces are– the sun, the moon, the stars. They all have their own cosmic power that distils someone at their very core. Leaving them waiting, abating in agony over a simple text back from the man you like.

You toss your phone to the side, choosing to get ready instead of imagining anymore fantasies. You live in reality, a woman of science. There’s no sense in trying to explain everything you feel, only accepting that you feel it.

Mmm. As you get dressed, you wonder how long you’ll be able to go on like that for.

[10:02] From: Poongie

> gm

> i already ate

Oh. You don’t like that. In fact, you hate it so much you want to start making a powerpoint presentation on how to text just for him. But, you give him the benefit of the doubt once more. Yoongi has never been a good texter, anyway. You’re lucky if you can get more than a two word reply from him. He prefers phone calls.

[10:03] To: Poongie

> So u hate me okay

> Come sit with me tho, I don’t want to look like a loser

> Meet me down there in 5 ;P

You give a soft smile as he reacts to your final text with a thumbs up. It doesn’t leave you feeling the best, but he’s not avoiding you entirely. And he never has been a morning person. Plus, he’s probably hungover too and doesn’t wanna look at his phone screen. You two are fine and last night was amazing. And soon you could make everything official.

Your smile grows. Yeah. Yeah, that all makes perfect sense.

You know what doesn’t? A lot of things, actually. Too many to count, but you try anyway.

One.

Yoongi walking in 10 minutes late acting like nothing happened. Like you didn’t happen. Just sliding into the seat across from yours, the thick plastic of the booth squeaking while he does so. His hands stuffed in his pants, nothing but a nod in your direction to acknowledge your existence. His face utterly blank, entirely neutral.

Never once has Yoongi greeted you with less than a gummy smile. A ruffle of your hair. A jab at your tired appearance. But you ignore it– ignore the sense of unease, of dread already building inside. He must really have a bad hangover, poor guy.

“Goodmorning!” You chirp brightly, a smile of a thousand suns cast in only his direction. Your usual greeting, of course. Maybe just a little extra chipper to balance him out. To try and prepare yourself, maybe to get a little excited for the conversation to come. Pull him out of any awkward tension he may be feeling.

“Goodmorning.” He simply replies back, his eyes following the waitress as she places a cup of coffee, extra sweet, in front of him. His usual order. Something you’d never forget. Something he knows you’d never forget, but the way he stares into the warm liquid says otherwise.

His eyes never stray from the cup, like he's thinking. Like he wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how. Like he isn’t sure whether to ignore it or bring it to light.

You know that look well, and you don’t want to ignore it.

Two.

He calls the waitress back and orders another coffee. Black.

He hates his coffee black. You know this. Everyone does. He hasn’t had the stuff since before he met you. You opened him to the world of how delicious sweet drinks can be. So why the hell is he planning on pretending to like something he doesn’t? It makes no sense to you– your expression shows it all. Eyebrows quirking together, lips pushing outwards slightly.

“Wow, the great Min Yoongi is changing up his order?” A creature of habit never does, you would know yourself, “Hangover that bad?”

You try to lighten the mood, raise the cloud that hangs above the booth. Or maybe it’s a cloud only you feel, you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway, does it?

“Mmm, you could say that.” He grunts, his chin tucking ever so slightly to his chest. His tail curling closer. Almost defensive. Almost.

“God yeah,” The conversation feels stunted, and you hate that even more. “My head has been throbbing since I woke up. I don’t know if I drank too much or not enough.” The banter isn’t flowing as easily, and he curls in on himself even more. Almost like the mere mention of last night rings alarm bells in his mind.

Oh! Okay, yeah. Maybe he’s just nervous about everything that happened, you know? Maybe he’s worried that you don’t remember, or that you’re having different feelings about it. Maybe his brain is playing the same tricks on him that trickled into your consciousness that morning!

Yeah, okay. That makes so much more sense now that you think about it. You have to stop beating around the bush, just come out and say everything you think. Everything you feel and you can talk about it. You’ll just bring it up– he obviously isn’t going to, but then you’ll be in a relationship by the time your pancakes come out! Perfect!

Yet as you look up at him, find his face utterly void of anything, your confidence wanes.

Three.

He’s refusing to look at you. Another thing he never does. You’re always the one to avoid eye contact, never him. You’re always the one to stare out the window, not him. He normally looks at you. Normally basks in you.

You feel your mouth drying, all words becoming lost on your tongue the longer you stare at his disposition. You don’t break it as the silence becomes awkward, as he doesn’t try to do anything to fix it. Simply sips at his coffee. His disgusting coffee.

Drinks it until it empties. Until the pancakes now in front of you remain nearly untouched and cold. Until the world stops spinning and time freezes. As the comet hits and the world ends. As society descends into chaos yet you can’t do anything but look at him.

Okay, maybe you’re exaggerating. But that’s exactly how it feels for some strange reason. How it feels to be unable to reach him.

It isn’t until he grabs his coat, sliding $30 across the table that you finally gain the courage to speak. Finally blurt out the words sitting on the tip of your tongue for the last 20 minutes.

“We should talk about last night.” You didn’t expect to say anything honestly, shocked at the air leaving your lungs.

And finally, finally he looks at you. The diner is still frozen, yes, but now he’s looking at you and for some reason that’s all that matters.

A deep drag of air fills his lungs as he sags his shoulders, rigid disposition weakening in attempt to show signs of aloof. His tail gives everything away. Sharp and pointed. Unnerved.

“What is there to talk about?”

Oh.

“What?” You feel blood leave your face, “Everything. There’s everything to talk about.”

He sighs, his eyes almost rolling at your words. Everything he does is ten times louder. Ten times greater than any storm, any power in the entire universe.

Four.

“Listen, (Y/n). Last night was a mistake, okay?”

Oh.

Is it possible for the Earth to stop rotating around the sun? For the moon to find home in another planet? Is it possible for the rings of Saturn to disband, to crack and shatter, leaving the planet feeling hollow? No more than a gaseous ball floating around an unyielding core forcing it to stay together?

It has to be. Because if it’s possible for Yoongi to say those very words, say the very words that are able to rip your soul from your body, you think anything is.

You feel something in you crack. Something so fragile and innocent that you want to protect it with your everything. Run far and hide. Nurse it alone until it stops kicking and screaming for its unending pain to yield. For it to have rest in a world that only seems to take and take and take.

“What?” You don’t even care that your voice cracks.

He sighs again, his gaze dropping to the table. “I just don’t think there’s anything to talk about, okay?”

“There’s a lot to talk about.” Your eyebrows crinkle, your mouth moving into a frustrated frown. Red isn’t a colour you feel often, but your walls are up. Your bubble now a sphere frozen in time– a place with room for no one but you. Your body curled around that innocent glow. Protecting it. Keeping it warm. “For one, calling it a mistake.”

He’s rigid again too, maybe red glowing around his form as well. But you can’t seem to care. Not right now. Maybe not ever. Not able to sense the danger. The tail pointed in your direction. Venom dripping from his lips.

“Wasn’t it? We’re friends (Y/n). One stupid night shouldn’t change that shit.” It changes fucking everything. Especially with your pining. Especially with your heart on your sleeve. With your affections for him always oh-so-fucking obvious.

“Like hell it–” He cuts you off.

“We’re done with this conversation. Just forget last night ever happened.” He stands, not planning on waiting around anymore. Not waiting for you anymore. “Just act like it never did. Nothing has to change. We’re not talking about this anymore.”

With that he leaves without letting you speak. Without letting you talk. Shutting you down entirely in a way he never has before. In a way he promised he would never do to you. And for the first time since you discovered your crush on him, you feel something negative simmering for Min Yoongi.

Q/Hybrids_Humans

U/YGS_Min • posted 5y ago

Can Hybrids and Humans actually fall in love? -> Advice

> Hi. I’m new to this page so I might get things wrong with this post. Sorry in advance if I do.

> I am a Hybrid and I recently met a girl who I think is my mate. I get all the classic mate feelings someone does when I’m around her. When we first met, a few days ago in the library, I automatically felt a pull towards her. Like I needed to be close to her. Everything in my body, my hybrid side especially, was begging for me to make her my mate right away. She even complimented my tail. Does she even know what that means? What it did to me?

> After that, she gave me her number (I’m helping her with a few things) (we're both ‘in’ college) and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Whenever I open my phone my brain automatically fries and moves to open her contact so I can text or call her. It actually feels a little crazy.

> She said she wants to be friends and I don’t know what my brain is going to do if we actually get closer.

>The issue is that she's human, though. So I already know she doesn’t feel the same way about me. She doesn’t feel the bond or the pull to get closer. And she already knows I’m a hybrid so there’s no way to avoid it.

> I’m also not the most friendly Hybrid, I guess. People don’t like my species. My mom doesn’t even like the way I was born. And I’m lucky enough to get away from where I was before and am living my own life now. Trying to do good things with it. Maybe be human with it, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway.

> Point is, I’ve looked online and while I know legally it is possible to be mates with a human, I haven’t found anything about Human’s with more odd species. And I really just want to know if this could be possible, or if I should give up before things even start. She’s the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. Her mannerisms kill me– I love them. She’s so cute. And she acted like I was just like everyone else.

> I don’t know. I want her to be my mate. But I just want to know other peoples experiences. I know she’d never be able to love me in the way I automatically do her, but if I told her she was my mate would she feel forced into it? Would she feel like I actually care? Could she ever actually care? Should I do anything about it or just pretend that it was never there in the first place?

> I never thought my mate might be human. I never thought I'd find my mate. Any advice would be appreciated. Thanks.

6 am.

Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s slept. He’s not sure he’s ever slept with the exhaustion weighing on his bones. His consciousness. His very being. In fact, all he’s had is his thoughts as the hours have ticked by, unrelenting. Unwavering. As the sun starts to shine through the curtains and the reality of everything that transpired rushes to the surface. Past the alcohol. Past your adorable soft snores.

He had you. He fucked you. For one night, you belonged to him.

The first thing he felt after he held you in bed was peace. Complete and utter satisfaction with life, with you. Everything itching at him, pulling him towards you was, for once, content. He no longer felt the burning in his heart or the pulling at his skin to get you closer. The fuzziness in his brain whenever you smiled. All of it was gone. There was nothing but happiness in his being.

Nothing but the ideas of his dream being true. Of getting to hold you like this every night. Getting you to smile for him, only him. Getting to belong to you in ways humans could never understand.

In ways you could never understand.

Something else starts creeping into his consciousness, then. Something starting in the pit of his stomach, rising until it feels like he's choking. Until not even the scent of your shampoo can calm the race of his heart. Not even the pull of his tail drawing you closer to his body– his hybrid side trying to calm him down in ways it only knows how.

How could Yoongi let himself live in such a sick dream?

You’re a human. He’s a hybrid. You would never actually love him.

Your words were drunk– of course they were. Influenced by the alcohol and the idea of a warm body next to your own. Maybe you didn’t even realise it was him, maybe it could have been anyone and you would have been satisfied.

It’s such an ugly thing, the words he thinks. The ideas that form behind his skull, twisting and turning. Forming an amalgamation of tangles and death defying drops to nothingness. Of the reality of things, his reality that is. One where he’s worthless. One where you are the sun and he is nothing but an asteroid following the orbit of someone else.

Hybrids are never meant to be with humans.

He knows that for a fact. Has read all the history books, looked at all the articles, scoured for any sign that the two of you could be together in a society that hates him only to be left with mockery. Left with anonymous strangers telling him that scorpions are meant to kill. Meant to destroy. How could a human ever care about him when his entire life he’s been told it’s the worst parts of himself? How could you care about him?

Well, he knows that isn’t all true. He knows you care in some ways. But they aren’t mate ways and–

Fuck. Fuck Yoongi, he knows he’s not supposed to think of those things. He’s never allowed to think of you and that word together. He forbade himself of it. Promised himself it couldn’t be true. That he would never admit it to you or anyone else.

You are not his mate.

But you are.

But–

He wishes he could get his head to shut the fuck up for a fucking second so he could think. Think about anything other than those two words together, even if he knew them to be true from the moment he met you in the library. When he agreed to be your tutor. When he fell in love the moment you looked his way.

And even then he thought that maybe, just maybe if you didn’t know he was a hybrid he would have a chance. That if he could keep it hidden for long enough, if you saw him as a human and not a terrifying creature bred only to kill, that you could fall for him. That he could be your mate– boyfriend. That he could be your boyfriend.

But then you saw it. Saw the fucking thing he wishes he never had, wishes he could live without. The very thing he has been hated for his entire life. His genetic abnormality, originally bred to be used for attack, used by the government to kill. The very piece of his being he rejects time and time again to try and just feel a little more normal, a little more human. And you… you said you liked it.

And no, you didn’t have any clue what those words meant at the time. Of course you didn’t. Didn’t know what they implied– didn’t know the true meaning they held. The acceptance of courtship behind their very tone.

A nice tail to a human? Nothing. A nice tail to a scorpion? The very thing used by the hybrid to attract mates? To show their viability and strength as a partner? Everything.

In that moment, you were everything.

But you didn’t know the meaning behind those words. You didn’t love him the way he so implicitly did you. And while you accepted him as a friend, you would never accept him as more. He would never let you.

That night was the night he promised himself you weren’t his mate. Promised himself he had no mate.

Last night was the first time he ever broke it.

Last night he could have killed you.

You had his tail in your mouth. His tail. The tail that carries his venom. The venom bred into his cells meant to kill others. If he let any of it out by accident… if he…

Fuck.

The heaviness that realisation brings is what finally makes him get out of bed. Finally set in motion reality. Stop himself from living in whatever dream he was playing with. Stop playing house with a girl that would never be his. That would probably think the entirety of last night was a mistake.

Who gives a shit what you thought. He could’ve killed you. He could’ve killed his fucking mate.

Societally, he could’ve never had you. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if you had to face the same things he did on the daily. What others thought of you. What they would say about you if they saw you two together. What would happen with your kids. How much hate and fear you would receive by being with him.

He could sacrifice his own life for you a thousand times, but he would never let you do the same for him.

And last night. Last night his venom could’ve been your end.

He doesn’t need to think anymore. He knows what he’s going to do. Even if it hurts him. Even if the grenade is set to go off and destroy his very being, it’s worth it to keep you safe. To keep you content. To keep you away from him.

Best case, you don’t remember last night or don’t bring it up. Worst…

Yoongi knows the ship he’s boarding is bound to sink– that he’s destined to drown. But if it means your happiness, he’d do anything.

The car feels cold. The heat is blasting, but it still feels frozen. Decrepit. All fireplace memories hazing into ice as you ride next to him.

Him.

Fucking him.

Fucking Min Yoongi. The fucking asshole that tore your heart out and stomped on it. The fucking asshole that didn’t even have the decency to talk to you. To explain why the fuck he was being so cold. The fucking asshole that made you feel loved. Like you weren’t alone in the entire universe, only to make you realise you were trapped in a metal box– steaming. Bubbling.

Maybe you aren’t cold. No, you definitely aren’t. You’re steaming. Burning up– ready to explode at the slightest thing. Still a burning blaze because he didn’t fucking let you talk. Just shut you down without a second thought. Without fucking anything.

Not that he owes you anything– he doesn’t owe you a relationship. He doesn’t owe you love, of course not. You’re not dumb enough to think that. But you do know he owes you an explanation. A chance to speak. Years of friendship tell you that much.

Promises tell you that much.

And you can’t fucking stand broken promises. Can’t stand acting like strangers after years of friendship. After all the time spent together. After all of the memories formed, all the bonds created. You don’t deserve to be treated like nothing.

Hell, he probably wouldn’t have even come with you today if you hadn’t texted him. Probably assumed you’d rather go alone or with one of the other people on the crew. Probably– shut up, you decide in that moment to stop making excuses for him. To stop giving him the benefit of the doubt when he treated you as no less than a one-night-stand. A fuck that meant nothing.

Were fucking years of friendship just for that? Just so he could fuck you? This fucking–

You scoff to yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. Shaking your head. An outloud reaction to the continued spiral that started this morning, that will continue to brew until it inevitably boils over. Until the pot filled with too much water gets too hot and just boils over.

You never have been able to keep your opinions in. Open book pages laid out for the world to see. Another reason you’ve always been alone– should have stayed alone in your bubble.

“What?” Oh, he wants to talk to you now?

Your eyes shoot over to his figure from the corner of your eye. You can’t believe that yesterday you were smiling at him. You hate that today a piece of you still frets at the trapping of his fingers against the wheel. At his apparent aloof demeanour is automatically disillusioned by the simple movement indicating his nerves.

He always does that when he knows a big storm is coming– when he’s worried about safety, your safety. When he's concerned about whatever events are going to follow. A tick tick tick, fingers tapping delicately one after the other. Not a harsh grab against the wheel, not an unease of temperament. Yoongi, even when nervous or agitated, has always been gentle.

Well, every time except for this morning.

You roll your eyes.

As much as you hate how self destructive you become in times like these, you hate the bubbling feeling even more. Hate the strong emotion that floods your veins, the same one that makes you feel oh-so weak. The same one that makes you need to be strong. Need to be more.

Maybe you wish you could be more like Yoongi– be entirely unaffected by the strong feelings that permeate your being. Maybe you wish you could act as ‘chill’ as him. To separate how you feel from who you are. To be calm even if you want to be brash.

But you can’t. Not when it's about him. Never when it’s about him. Almost like a piece of you continues and will always pull you towards Min Yoongi.

You turn away from him, back to the laptop resting in your lap. “The PAR says a tornado is forming north-east. Head North so we can drop the doppler in the right position.”

“Mm.” He grunts. Doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t do anything.

You don’t know what you expect him to do anyway. You didn’t give him anything to work with. Yet it doesn’t seem thinking logically is on the table, and you can’t help but get more mad, more frustrated by the second.

“Are we really not going to talk about this?” You’re quiet, almost vulnerable when you ask the question. So quiet he might not even hear. Hanging on the precipice, two winds twisting against each other in equal strength.

Never have you felt this way about another person before. Dejection and anger weigh equally on the soul. You don’t quite know how to handle it. Don’t know how to combat what you’re feeling inside, just knowing the kettle is set to boil.

He doesn’t answer your question.

It was probably a bad idea to text him. Probably equally bad for him to answer and take you. An even worse idea to let the words slip out of your mouth without holding them back.

“Asshole.” The wind starts to pick up speed around the car, sucking you in. Pulling you deeping into the void. It’ll be no time at all before the tornado hits.

“What?” His head jerks backwards, chin tucking ever so slightly to his chest. His tail coiled firmly behind him, acting like it isn’t even there. Trying to pretend he isn't there, maybe.

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” You can’t help the rumble that forms in your heart, the twisted words that spew from your mouth. The subtle ache from every insult you fling.

Almost like you’re attached to him. Like you’re attempting to sever a chain never meant to come undone.

“What the fuck?” Why he’s acting so scandalised, flinching at every word, leaves you almost confused. Almost. Because he has no reason to be confused, at least not in your eyes. Not in the storm's eyes either.

The rumble of thunder hammers outside, deeper into the freeze. Deeper into ash.

“I thought we were going to move past this, (Y/n). We need to be adults here.” He sighs that stupid fucking sigh that you hate. The same one he used in the diner. The same one he used to brush off your feelings. Your chance to speak.

Maybe later you would reflect on how selfish you’re being. Maybe later you would realise how childish you actually are acting. But right now all you can see is red. Right now all you can feel is a part of yourself trying to rip away.

Maybe later you would find out Yoongi is feeling the exact same thing.

But right now, right now all you see is red. All you hear is the beating of hail against the car roof, the image that it is your own heartbeat set in your own mind. Right now all you know is the soul crushing weight of the only man you ever loved pulling away.

Your soulmate– if such things were real, breaking the bond.

“Are you serious? I’m the one that needs to be the adult here? Me?” You scoff, indignant. “You’re the one playing pretend, acting like nothing happened!”

“I told you that we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“You said it was a mistake.” Your eyes are set firm in a glare pointed at him and no one but him. Petty and Spite are your new best friends. Congratulations! “Just tell me if you fucking regret it Yoongi, just tell me.”

“(Y/n).”

“Was it a drunk accident? Did you think I was someone else? Please! I rather you say fucking something than nothing at all! Please just let me be selfish for once! I’m begging for something! Anything!”

…

“We have a job to do. Focus on it rather than us.” You hate that he paused before he spoke, that it gave you some sort of hope. You hate even more that his tone has not once changed– settling from incredulous to neutral. Almost like he exists as nothing but a robot reciting lines. You hate it. You hate it. You hate it.

He makes you feel like a child throwing a tantrum. He makes it feel like your feelings mean nothing. Like everything you trusted him with was all for naught. Are you not expressing yourself well enough? Are you a complete idiot? What the fuck are you doing wrong?! What's wrong?!

“You’re serious?” The logical side of you says he’s right, your job is more important than anything else. But the piece of you falling apart, pulling away and leaving an empty hole inside feels otherwise. You’re convinced you’ve never felt any emotion other than frustration and annoyance.

The car rolls to a stop as a clearing hits– hail ceasing, wind slowing even if it's just a fraction. A calm before the storm. Where you’re meant to ‘dO yOuR jOb’-- fucking asshole. Does he really think you don’t know that? Does he really think that little of you?

“Fucking joke.” You can’t help the dry laugh that exits your lungs as you step out of the car. Your peace, the time you love to spend most in the world set askew, your feelings anything but. You love your time in the storms, but the tornado brewing inside casts a much larger shadow than the one overhead.

Your hands fumble as they move the DOW out of the trunk– an action you’ve done time and time again feeling entirely foreign. Your body clumsy as it carries it to the front, your mouth spewing annoyed half thoughts all the way.

“What?” Yoongi’s window is rolled down, his head leaning out of the front as he asks.

Your eyes circle your skull again, “Fucking joke!” You call, trying to set up the radar. Your body only half in the moment. Half in the clouds.

“This whole thing is one big joke!” You shout, foot kicking the dirt beneath your feet. The storm beginning to dissipate, a swell of rain forming behind your eyelids instead.

“(Y/n) are you serious?!” You hate that his own frustration feels like a punch to the gut.

“I have been this whole time!” You shout, brain finally working to kick the last pieces of the radar in place. In good time too, the wind is picking up again. The tornado will be coming soon.

“Are you?! Are we seriously not going to talk about this?!” Your voice doesn’t feel like your own. It feels foreign, like something deeper inside is speaking for you– like it’s taking control. “Am I seriously just a cheap fuck to you?! Was I really a mistake, Yoongi?! Please, please just tell me.”

“(Y/n), don’t do this to me…” Don’t do this to him? Don’t do this to him?! Does he realise what he’s doing to you? Does he even fucking care? You told him you want him! That nothing could keep you from him– and he doesn’t even have the decency to reject you properly.

Maybe you're the bad guy– the villain for forcing this. For the path of destruction it might cause. But you truly can’t stand this. And maybe, just for once, the consequences mean as little to you as getting swallowed by the storms you’ve always cared for.

Yoongi is your impossible, remember? “But it’s always been about you! Don’t you get that, Yoongi?! It’s always! Always been about you from the second I met you!” You yell, not holding back your shouts. Letting them echo with the thunder coursing through the skies, coursing through your veins. “I’m not asking you to love me! I’m not asking for any of that shit! I just want a rejection!”

What? What the hell are you saying? Why are you asking him to do that? Why are you asking him to do the one thing he can’t do?

He loves you. He loves you so much it keeps him up at night. That it infests his days like a parasite. You’re not asking him to love you? Are you crazy? Do you not see how he looks at you? Do you not see that you’re the person that’s hung all the stars in the night sky?

He can’t reject you. He can’t. His brain won’t let him form the words– his lips never to curl in the right shape to let them out. He can’t reject you because he doesn’t want to– because it would practically kill him to.

He loves you. You’re his mate.

Why couldn’t you just make this easy? Why couldn’t you reject him? Why did you have to look so broken this morning? Why did you like him back? What does it mean? What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to keep fighting when he knows he could have you for himself, for real?

How is he supposed to protect you from him when it feels like he’s ripping a part of himself out when he tries to? He doesn’t want to hurt you. He never wanted to hurt you. He just wants to keep you safe. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you understand that? Why can’t he just have you?

‘No one can keep me from you. You’re for me.’

Your words from last night ring in his ears. Existing as the only thing he can hear, the only thing that matters. Maybe it is. Maybe he’s wrong, maybe–

A sharp beeping suddenly penetrates his ears, a sound resonating from your laptop. A map laid out of the tornado's path.

It's formed– its body barrelling straight for you.

Yoongi looks scared, nervous. His tail uncurling from behind him. Reaching out the window, reaching out to you. “(Y/n)! Get in the car!”

“Shut up!” You’re not listening to him, not listening to a word he says, “I’m not even worth a rejection?! Our friendship means nothing, huh?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” His breathing is accelerating, his heart rate going crazy. He needs to get to you. He needs to protect you. To get in the car and drive as fast and as far as he can so nothing bad happens. “Get in the car!”

“Why does it even matter if I do or not?!” You yell over the sounds of rushed winds, ignoring debris that begin to fly past. Ignoring everything but the man in front of you, just like you’ve done time and time again. “If I get in, you’re just going to pretend nothing happened! You’re going to– you’re going to–”

Tears begin to clog your vision, your words welling up in your throat. Scratching the inside, making you feel like you can’t breathe. Can’t think. Where you want to be strong, you are weak. And where you want to be weak, you feel strong. It’s a strange sort of feeling.

“I can’t just fucking pretend like nothing happened last night, Yoongi!” A sense of peace washes over you, a complete contrast to the storm surrounding, enveloping the world. Acting as a monster, not caring about your feelings, swallowing everything whole. You finally feel at peace, oddly enough.

“I can’t– I can’t just act like everything’s fine! I’ve always been so fucking shit at that, you know that!” You throw your arms up in defeat, standing right in the path of the storm. Almost ready to watch the tornado come into view, to become the storm yourself. “But it feels like– it feels like you’re killing a part of me! Like you’re, you’re pulling out a piece of my very being and I don’t know why! It doesn’t feel real! And I don’t know if I can live without it!”

What? It feels like– it feels like that for you?

Yoongi steps out of the car, his tail curling almost too pleased at his human side’s actions. If it was anyone else, they would think you’re crazy. They would think you’re just being manipulative without a care in the world– but to Yoongi, to hybrids, he knows exactly what you're talking about. He knows the exact same thing. Has felt it every day of his life since he decided he couldn’t have you.

The mate bond. The soulmate tie that will always lead two halves of a conjoined soul together over and over again.

You feel it. Humans aren’t meant to feel it but you do. You feel the same pull, the same bone crushing heartbreak upon rejection from your mate. The same– the same everything Yoongi feels.

He’s the one that's been hurting you like this, the one hurting himself by acting the same. In his bid for protection, he did the opposite. What kind of fucking mate is he? Why didn’t he just listen to the bond? Why didn’t he just let himself follow his heart?

Everything he’s dealt with in his past no longer carries any point. The comments under his stupid post to that stupid forum mean nothing. The words of his “family” are jack shit. The societal implications of him being less than human mean even less– you never saw him as less. His mate cares. His mate sees him.

This is what having a mate feels like? Yoongi thought he would never know. Never understand. But the warmth that feels him now, the subtle yearning he’s suppressed rises to the surface. His feet carrying him automatically, urging him to find you. To take care of you. To keep his mate safe.

“We have to go!” He rushes, his legs moving quickly to try and meet your form. To try and find you.

“No! No!” You shout, your foot stomping into the Earth. In any other scenario, he’d be shaking his head. Laugh at your antics. But right now, all he cares about is getting you to safety, and working on both of your communication skills. “I need you to tell me I’m a mistake! I need you to say I meant nothing!”

There you stand, arms open. Wind rushing past you, eyes closed yet looking straight ahead. You could never mean nothing, you mean everything. It’s his own stupid fault he ever let you think otherwise.

“I just said what I needed to say!” He shouts, his body finally meeting yours in the open field. His hands land on your shoulders, trying to ground you. Hair blowing around him, sticks flying past but never hitting the two of you. Almost like this needed to happen, like fate was set in stone for this very moment.

Your eyes slowly open, and Yoongi thinks the world freezes around him. Misty watersheds sit in your tearline, your eyebrows forming together in confusion with his words. Your lungs raising and falling quickly, chest panting with effort held back. Emotions yet to be unraveled.

If you feel the bond now, how long have you felt it? How confused you must’ve been. Yoongi feels awful.

“Wh-what?” Your voice cracks, cheeks warm and irises searching for an answer. What is he doing? Why is he saying this now? Why does some part of you feel whole again?

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t quite know how to articulate his words. But his body does. His body does what it’s been begging to do since he met you in that library. That he’s been holding back from every day of his stupid, (Y/n)-lacking life.

He leans in, his lips pressing against yours roughly. Trying to tell you all the words he never said, trying to put everything, all of him into one measly kiss. One that means something. One that tells the story of the two of you.

You, you can’t do anything but listen. Your eyes closing, your body returned whole. The piece of you pulling away settling back into your heart like stone. Warmth flooding your veins, home filling your very being. Making you feel safe, making you feel cared for.

And when he finally pulls away, you hear the words you’ve always longed to know, “I love you and I’m sorry.”

Yoongi feels free upon their utterance. A ball chain holding him back breaking– reality setting the world into motion once again. The earth that needs to keep spinning, that needs to keep the two of you afloat.

You should feel mad, but you can’t feel anything but peace. But feel like your soulmate has returned home from a voyage you would never understand.

Before anything else can be said, Yoongi snaps his head to the left. His eyes going wide as the winds begins to form in front of him. Looking as if they’re not moving. As if nothing is moving. “Fuck, fuck.”

He grabs your hand, pulling you back to the car as it starts to take focus in front of your mind, too. Fuzzy feeling fading, eyes going wide as you scramble from his door into your seat. He follows in quickly after you, not even thinking to buckle before taking off. Driving as if his life depends on it– your life depends on it, too.

Sticks flying past the windshield, hitting against the body. Thunderous roars of the world being consumed outside. A tail pressing against your frame, holding you steady. Keeping you in place.

It’s only when you come to safety that all the words needing to be said finally spill out from both of your mouths. When everything is set ‘right’ again instead of feeling oh-so-wrong. It’s only then that he explains everything. That he explains his logic, that he explains how hybrids have soulmates. Don’t forget the scolding he gave– the promises made to each other that the other would never do something so stupid again.

He knows you meant them.

He’ll never forget the way you smiled at him then. When the heaviness left the air and the freedom surrounding the car became almost overbearing. He wishes he could tattoo the places you playfully slapped into his arm. Where you scolded him for keeping this from you. When you told him you would never have a second thought about rejecting him.

When you told him you could never think of a life where he isn’t your mate.

“...Or boyfriend. Or partner. Whatever you wanna call it.”

You’ll never forget his gummy smile in that moment, when he has a possessive hand on your thigh.

“I don’t care. I just want to be yours.”

Wind wraps at your hair, blowing it– making it form into some beastly, monstrous thing around your head. Tangling your face, your eyes falling askew as it finds itself a messing around your very being. The howls of gusts form in his ears, sounding of ghosts that would haunt any normal person.

And Yoongi? He can’t help but think you look like an angel enthralled in the storm. One that came to earth. One that was meant to find him. One that was created just for him.

He can’t help but bask in you– bask in his mate as you live in your freedom, your happiness. Gets to be one of the lucky few finding sanctuary in your world. In your bubble made just for you.

He smiles to himself as he watches. Shakes his head like a stupid boy in stupid love that couldn’t be happier. He’s so happy.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, opening a familiar app that he once looked to for advice all those years ago. Going to the same post he read the replies to over and over again– convincing himself that his impossible couldn’t be reality. He shakes his head as he reads them now, almost feeling foolish for believing him in the first place. Why should he have asked on a human forum anyway? It’s like he was asking to be let down.

As he scrolls, his thumb comes to a stop above a comment he’s never seen before— a recent one. Posted just a few months ago.

RMB_Joon

> Hey! This post is being talked about a lot on another forum specifically for hybrids! :-) I left the link for you as I think it would be a lot more helpful getting perspectives over there! :-) PM me if you ever want to talk.

Yoongi feels a curl of interest grow in his gut. Other hybrids? Interest in his post? He almost wants to know more. Almost wants to follow the inkling leading him to delve deeper into the world of others.

“Yoongi!!” You shout, waving his attention over to where you stand. And suddenly, he doesn’t care about anything else anymore. How could he when he has the whole world in front of him?

He chuckles to himself, marking his post as ‘resolved’ before tucking the device into his pocket. His legs catching into a jog, joining you at your side. Exactly where he should be. Where he’s meant to be.

⋆𐙚 WAHH THERE IT IS!!! I hope you all enjoyed <\\33 pls let me know any of your thoughts!! this is officially the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I put a lot of myself into this piece so I hope u all love it and it isn’t too skdhsksks yk?? MWAH ily © all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

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parkerluvsu · 4 months ago

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can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!

MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)

sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.

the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.

the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".

art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.

art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)

the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.

an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".

that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.

me: sure, come over anytime

art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.

as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.

you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.

a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).

you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.

art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.

art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.

#parkerluvsu #parker.talks #challengers x reader #art donaldson #challengers 2024 #challengers #art donaldson x reader #challengers smut #art donaldson smut

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astrobydalia · 4 months ago

Text

September Observations

This post has a TW I do not allow the repost on any others platform

Something I forgot to mention in this post about 8th house synastry!! I've noticed for some reason this overlay tends to manifest more positively when the house person already has 8th house placements in their natal chart (not a guarantee tho). I feel like its because this makes the house person be more naturally in their power and the planet person no longer feels like they can have control over the house person. In these cases instead of envy the planet person feels admiration and "positive" obsession over the house person like "Im obsessed with you, queen!🥰😍🤩" kinda vibe

If Libra Moons didn’t have the ability to detach fast they could easily pass as water moons 100%. They are such hopeless romantics and love having someone to love be that friends or partners. And yes they can be codependent but only to an extent imo. I’ve seen Libra Moons actually detach surprisingly fast specially if they feel like you don’t match their energy

Im sorry but Libra Suns are not people you can count on imo. They have this very elitist/opportunistic mindset when it comes to people. They treat people based on some kind of unspoken social hierarchy they have in their minds like how successful or intelligent or interesting you appear to be for example. They'll be loyal for as long as they see benefit from associating themselves with you, otherwise they'll be distant, elusive and flighty af. Socially they appear to be super chill but they aren’t like at all, they’re very passive-aggressive and extremely judgmental of others

If you have Venusian MC/10th house (Libra or Taurus MC/10th or Venus in the 10th house), I've noticed people care what you think of them and really feel the need to make a good impression on you, specially the sex you're attracted to romantically. This placement makes people feel like your love and affection is a privilege to have, that’s why a lot of trophy wives have venusian 10th house/MC

Jupiterians (Pisces/Sagittarius but specially Sagittarius placements) are just the best people to be around tbh. Even when they have other toxic placements/energies in their charts, I’ve noticed they are ultimately all about the ✨vibes✨. They detach from negativity quite fast and avoid getting too deep into drama and controversy cause really all they want is to chill and have fun. The “no worries, bro” kinda people. The negative side of this tho is they tend to turn a blind eye when they get called out on their own issues and/or have a tendency to be dismissive when it’s time to take things seriously

^^^You’d say Venusians relate to this peaceful description too but tbh I didn’t include them cause Venusians tend to have a lot of repressed shit and are secretly all about drama (but watching it go down from afar tho)

I’ve noticed water mercury tend to be more diplomatic and charming with their words, the way they speak about things tends to be more soothing yet nebulous/confusing/cryptic. However earth mercuries are more direct and critical which makes them more prone to openly talking shit LMAO

There's a lot of posts victimizing and romanticizing Lilith in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC but I've seen this placement a lot in bullies and genuinely fraudulent people?? I've seen Lilith energy is commonly prominent in the charts of criminals too. Like idk why people act like the hate Lilith gets is ALWAYS unjustified 💀 They can truly be really dark and shady individuals that’s literally what Lilith signifies (this does not apply to everyone of courseeeeee)

Furthermore, I'm sorry to say this but prominent Lilith natives have a habit of living too much in the victim mindset and constantly make everyone else the problem as a way to justify their shitty behaviors

What I’ve noticed with Lilith natives who are not sketchy people (so just normal decent individuals) is that they have huge self-destructive and self-derogatory tendencies. They tend to become very cynical of the world, lose hope in their own value and humiliate themselves behaving in ways that are rebellious to them but make other people think the native has no self-respect

Libra/7th house Lilith tend to assume the worst in others. Envy placement. They struggle finding genuine and healthy relationships

I've noticed MC ruler in the 12th house is common in the charts of sex workers since 12th house is related to bed pleasures, secret affairs, etc

The sign that actually behaves like a child irl is Gemini. That’s why I've noticed Gemini placements always want to be the 'cool and fun parent' just like Phil Dunphy

TW: mentions of c**** abuse and s******.

I've noticed Cancer energy (Leo too but mostly cancer) is very common in the charts of p*dos, gr**mers and s*xual predators. No placement will determine someone being this way!!!

Chiron in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC/Harshly aspecting chart ruler is common in the charts of people who have or have tried to commit s******

End of TW

An underrated god complex indicator is Sun-Mercury conjunction. I can't stress enough how much these people's ego revolve around their intellect. Their entire personality to them is being the smartest person in the room

When it comes to pride and ego (Sun) fixed and mutable suns are the most likely to have a superiority complex

Mutable Suns take the most pride on their own knowledge and judgment, deeply believe they know better or have most if not all the answers. They have a tendency to often dismiss, correct or contradict others

Fixed Suns take pride in their own ‘essence’ if that make sense. They LOVE the idea of being special and irreplaceable. Feeling like there’s something intrinsically unique about them

Cardinal Suns are okay tbh. They can have other negatives but when it comes to ego theirs is usually pretty balanced I noticed. They usually take pride in their ability to level-up and improve themselves which often makes them rather competitive or in extreme cases have this heavily predatory mindset when it comes to what they want

This will not be accurate for everyone of course but when it comes to future children if you have Water/Earth moon you are most likely to have girls whereas if you have Air/Fire moon you're more most likely to have boys

Air Venus people are the most open-minded when it comes to taste in general. I've noticed they're the type to enjoy almost every music and movie genre, they can appreciate different aesthetics.... They're also the most likely to date outside their race I've seen cause they can really find beauty in all sort of features as long as it looks overall good/attractive to them. It's not that they don't have preferences, but they're type be open to being impressed and mentally stimulated

EARTH and Fire Venus people are the most selective when it comes to their taste. They know exactly what they want and like. In the case of earth Venus this can be to the point of strong reluctance to try new things. Fire Venus appear open minded cause they have this attitude of trying everything once but the usually have a very hard-set type of things they will actually commit to

Water Venus people aren't that open about their tastes. They hide or repress them cause they really tend to be into obscure or hidden stuff. If you ask them what they like, they'll give you an evasive and generic answer, specially if it's in the context of small talk

I've noticed Capricorn and Scorpio Moons have an innate understanding of the uglier sides of human nature which is what makes them pretty cynical (scorpio) and pessimistic (cap). They are hyper-aware of how most people can be bought and corrupted. This makes them AMAZING business people tho.

Aries ASC natives embody the active, wild and spontaneous stereotype more than the other aries placements. They come across as pretty chill at first but there's actually very little they won't dare to do, they love adventures

I've noticed Venusians can do really good in anything related to sales or business counseling, because they are good at estimating and promoting the value of things

I know we relate Neptune to otherworldly and glamorous vibe but all the people that I've met who made me go "wow, girl, you don't feel real" were people who had air signs in their big 3. They’re not real people, they’re concepts, I swear that’s the vibe they give me💀💀

Also, air signs in the big 3 is an underrated fame/success indicator imo. Nowadays networking is everything in order to succeed and these natives naturally attract popularity and connections SO easily. They effortlessly use their charm and likeness to gain opportunities

I once saw an observation that said Gemini risings give off dumb blonde energy and Im here to confirm it’s true, specially when Mercury is also in an air sign. This happens cause they're up in their minds all the time but this makes them appear VERY disconnected from their environment so they really just be looking like this 24/7 😀😃😄😁😆🙂 and that's why they come across as empty-headed. They also often have this manic pixie dream girl energy which results in people not taking them seriously. This is enhanced when you see that they have a tendency to get talkative about superficial or random topics but their more intelligent or deep thoughts they keep to themselves for some reason.

Taurus Moons actually are actually very very very strategic??? Other earth moons look messy af beside them. They're so grounded that they know exactly what they want, how they wanna get it and they are so sure of themselves they have no issue taking their sweet ass time with it. Every single step they take is so intentional and "organized" if that makes sense, but they pull it off as natural and spontaneous??

Also this is an obvious thing to say but Taurus Moons are so emotionally stable. They work extremely well under pressure, will literally be the calm person admist a chaos or extreme situation. I've seen Cap/Virgo moons getting triggered many times but Taurus moons???? I've known some of them for years and I've never seen them triggered EVER no matter happened which as a water moon that's fucking insane to me 😭💀💀 Like sure depending on their personality they can be more or less expressive of their feelings but its always on their own terms, they don't let other people or situations just get reactions out of them if that makes sense

I've noticed Mercury in the 4th house creates a divided and scattered family. Just like Mercury in the 10th house indicates traveling for work, Mercury in the 4th indicates traveling because of your family. The people I've seen with this placement have all of their family members scattered around the world living completely different lives

Sun-Neptune harsh aspects are very impressionable people and very easily influenced

Also, a lot of people point out Sun-Pluto aspects have like a hidden dark/toxic side to their personality but I've seen it's actually Sun-Neptune that match this description

Libra placements can potentially be very disciplined and do well in demanding and/or serious occupations like corporate, military or athletes since Saturn is exalted in Libra.

Venus in the 1st house can tend to only value the superficially good things in them (lovable, likabale, beautiful, etc) and are more concerned with the image they present rather than building a real personality deep down. This make them ignore or downplay their flaws thus not reacting well to criticism and/or when someone does not like them.

All the men that I’ve met who were actually providers and had this involved father and husband vibes always had VIRGO, taurus and cancer placements

Men with capricorn placements aren’t providers, they’re just controlling af😭😭 They will also be emotionally distant and manipulative af too if they do not have other energies in the chart to balance it out

Honestly water suns (sun in a water house natives too) fascinate me. They just go around life casually hiding who they really are like they don’t have the most intricate personality deep down. All of them have mysterious and intriguing vibes it's not just scorpio!!!

5th house placements (including vertex) will stay behaving like teenagers regardless of their age. The song "forever young" by alphaville really describes them

Neptune in the 1st house/asc are prone to attracting lots and lots of creepy individuals because they have this aura where people project all sorts of delulu and twisted shit on them. Mentally and/or emotionally unwell people feel very attached to these natives unfortunately

Leo MC/10th house really does indicate a career where you're some kind of performer. That’s why many celebrities (specially ACTORS and singers) are Scorpio risings. This can also apply to careers like politics, public speaker, standup comedian, etc. All of these involve some level of fame ofc

Cancer MC/10th house indicates being some kind of creator (cancer=birthing something new, bringing something to life). This a lot of times relate to some art form of course but it can be other things for example a friend of mine has this placement and she works in science and she told me she works in a lab with substances and materials she created herself (idk how it works but you get the idea)

Pisces Suns have a major in gaslighting from the university of never taking responsibility. This can be the case for any unevolved pisces placement but I’ve noticed the lying to your face and twisting reality is much more blatant in Pisces Suns for some reason. They make arguments in such a way that you can tell something of what they’re saying is off but you can’t exactly prove them wrong either so 🤷🏽‍♀️💀

Mercurial placements (Gemini/Virgo) and Venus in the 3rd house may really love wearing rings or lots of bracelets, big watches, etc. Accessories that bring attention to the hands essentially

Libra placentas may or may not want to be "liked" but Libra Moon is a placement I've seen is genuinely liked by everyone. They have this calming and loving energy to them. Celebrities with this placement are generally unproblematic (Anne Hathaway, Emma Stone) or if they are problematic they can easily recover from backlash (Ariana Grande, Leo DiCaprio)

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations #astro community

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whimsiwitchy · 5 months ago

Text

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part three)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men.

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: idk yall, this kinda ate ngl. I��m so proud of this and I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! <3 also I’m sorry to all the Pedro girlies…I had to.

part three: uninvited

The past few days seemed to drag on slower than you wished they had. The rest of your time in London was spent doing various interviews centered around your upcoming album release and Ashley dragged you around to every possible tourist attraction around. It was all rather mundane- every interview was the same and every attraction too crowded for your liking. You were being a grump but you were tired and anxious. All the hype around your sophomore album delighted you, truly it did, but the doubts always took up more space in your mind than you cared to admit. With this album, you took a lot of inspiration from the pop girlies of the early 2000s, Britney being the biggest influence. You allowed yourself to explore your sexuality and true self. The songs were erotic in the best way and in just a few weeks, everyone would have access to that side of you. The image you’d been portraying wasn’t that of a ‘soft good girl’ per say but you hadn’t been this open and honest before. It was terrifying.

You landed at LAX around two in the morning, giving you a few hours of sleep before your 11am meeting. This was one of those times you didn’t mind using the perks of your fame. You had a car waiting to pick Ashley and yourself up to take you straight home, allowing both of you to get some sleep as the driver fought through the airport traffic. The moment you reached your small house, you threw your luggage across the living room and dropped face down into the couch, falling back into a deep sleep with Ashley right next to you. When your alarms go off at nine am, you’re banging your head into the couch cushions, the seven hours of sleep feeling like a blink. You roll slightly allowing yourself to fall the short distance from the couch onto the floor. “Ow…” You mumble, rubbing the back of your head. Dragging yourself up, you sluggishly made your way to the bathroom to take a quick shower. It was something you should have done last night. Just thinking about all the germs sitting on your body right now made a quick chill of disgust roll down your spine. You heavily disliked sleeping in your ‘outside clothes’ but the tiredness beat the cleanliness last night.

Sweat pants and a hoodie weren’t exactly meeting appropriate but it wasn’t anything serious, just a little gathering to figure out some last minute details for the album listening party being thrown for your friends and family. You didn’t want it to be a huge deal but your label saw it as a marketing opportunity. If it were up to you, it would be a simple get together at your house but they insisted on it being at some club that would have paparazzi waiting to take pictures. You aren’t even sure why you're needed at the meeting because your input wasn’t even being considered, you just sat and gave the ‘stamp of approval’. Ashley was still knocked out when you walked to your kitchen to grab a small breakfast- a protein yogurt and some apple slices. You’d much prefer french toast but your trainer has been onto you about your diet with a tour coming up. You needed to be in good shape to dance and sing at the same time, it was ridiculous how hard it was.

“Hey Ash, imma head out, i’ll be back soon.” You shake her shoulder lighty. She opens her eyes to some degree and mutters, what sounded like, an ‘okay’. You sighed as you started the engine to your 2000 green Toyota Corolla. It had been making a funny noise before your trip overseas that you had forgotten all about it. A lot of your newer, richer, friends have made fun of your car but you couldn’t find reason to part with it. It still ran and got you where you needed to be. You loved your fugly little car. The car ride was surprisingly short, traffic light. Pulling into the office parking lot, you sent a quick text to Stacy.

You: please tell me you’re here already 😭

Stacypoo <33: I am. 4th floor, take a right. I’ll wait in the hall for you.

You sent a thumbs up and made your way to the front doors. The elevator ride was quick, luckily you were the only one in there, saving you from making any awkward small talk with some random person. You were too tired to keep up your friendly demeanor. Stacy was standing outside of an office door when you first saw her. Giving quick hellos, she motioned you into the room.

“How long do you think they’ll have us sitting here this time?” You ask jokingly. You’ve made yourself as comfortable as possible in the cheap plastic chair with a thin cushion on the seat. With your elbows propped up on the table, your head sat heavy with both hands holding up your cheeks.

She lets out a snort before responding. “Who knows. I swear these people make us wait on purpose as some kind of power move.”

Stacy had left London a day before you had. The moment your last interview was over, she was jumping on the first flight back home. She looked well rested and put together. You envied her ability to bounce back into routine so quickly. The two of you filled the small room with back and forth conversation about the day in London she had missed. Three people from your management/ label came tumbling in fifteen minutes later. As you suspected, you were doing a whole lot of nothing.

“The team we hired are allowed to go into the club at noon to start decorating and the party will start at 10pm.” One of the people spoke, you think his name is Mark, but you aren’t completely sure.

“Will y/n need to be there at a certain time or is 10 fine?” Stacy asks.

“She can show up at ten but she won’t be in the main room until 10:30 so she can give a speech and introduce the album.” Stacy gives a nod and types that into her laptop. You didn’t like the idea of giving a speech.

“Okay, let's go over the guest list one more time and then we can wrap this up.” Mark, you think, says. You’re paying closer attention now, they hand you a list and you skim it. There's a lot of names of people who you consider more of an acquaintance than a friend but you can’t really uninvite them.

“Um, can I actually add two more people to this list?” You ask and Mark nods. Stacy is giving you a questioning look.

“Can you add Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman? I um.. I met them the other day and they said they were fans. It would be cool to have them there.” You smile and from the corner of your eye, you can see Stacy pursing her lips, trying to hold back a laugh. One of the other people in the room, not Mark, adds their names to the guest list. Stacy and Mark talk for a few more minutes before the meeting is coming to a close. Once Stacy and yourself are enclosed in the elevator, she’s looking over at you with a lopsided grin, shaking her head slowly.

“What?” You give her a small chuckle, feeling extra giddy.

“You're unbelievable. Why even extend the invite to Mr. Reynolds when all you want is to see Huge Jackman.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at the play on Hugh’s name.

“So not true. They like my music, why not invite them to hear the album before anyone else?” You deny her accusations.

“Whatever you say y/n.” She drags out the ‘ever’ a little too long to emphasize just how much she doesn’t believe a word you say. The elevator is opening and the walk to the parking lot is silent. Stacy bids you goodbye and says that she would be in touch soon before she’s walking away.

“Wait! Stacy!” You call out to her and she’s turning back to you. “I need you to track down Hugh’s number, I want to personally invite him.” You smirk and she’s just shaking her head in a joking manner.

“Byeee Stacypoooo!”

—

When you got home, Ashley was awake and watching tv on your couch. You sat with her and talked about everything you had learned at the meeting. She was more excited for the event than you were, it was her type of scene. You knew you'd end up having fun once you were there but you were nervous. You might have left out the fact that you had invited Ryan and Hugh as last minute guests- it was something she could find out the day of if they showed up. She left not too long after, leaving you to pick up your home a little bit. You cleaned it pretty thoroughly before leaving the country but you felt a little overwhelmed by the unpacked luggage that sat in the middle of your living room floor. You packed too much clothing for the short trip, a lot of what was in the suitcase never even got worn. You decided to throw it all in the washer anyway. Dirtys clothes touching clean clothes makes them all dirty in your mind. In the middle of moving your laundry into the washing machine, your phone quacked signaling that Stacy had messaged you. She earned her own notification sound after the endless mixed texts and calls over the first few months of her working for you. It was a terrible habit you had, not answering your phone, but you usually paid attention to it when you were expecting contact. You pressed start on the machine and sauntered over to the kitchen counter your phone sat on.

Stacypoo <33: the deed is done…have fun loser

There was a second text that contained a number to which you assumed was Hugh’s. You smiled brightly as you texted Stacy a quick ‘thank you, love you’ text with a million heart emojis. You wasted no time, immediately creating contact for the man you were so eager to see again.

You: hey hugh, it’s y/n! my label is throwing a listening party for my album that’s coming out soon and I thought it would be really cool if you were there. no pressure to come if you don’t want to but it’s on september 14th at Disco Lights at 10pm. 😊💕

You hit send, put your phone back on the counter, and ran across your house, needing to be as far away from the device as possible. Keeping yourself busy was probably your best option right now, so that’s what you did. You continued where you left off by putting your suitcases back into the storage closet in your hallway. Living alone made you realize how neat of a person you were. Back home it felt like you were constantly cleaning but you didn’t have to do as much in your own home. It was a simple three bedroom with one and a half bathrooms. Two of the three rooms weren’t used that frequently- one being a guest bed and the other being an at home studio/ office. The most you had to do was an occasional dust and sweep. You ran out of things to do too quickly. It had maybe been an hour since you sent the text and you were too nervous to even take a peek at your phone yet. You walked over to the counter comically slow and stared down at the phone screen, too afraid to look at the notifications. There were only three outcomes to this situation- one he doesn’t respond, two he can’t come, or three he agrees to come. You were hoping it was the latter option. The worst outcome was him ignoring you, you hated being ignored. It would also overall be the awkwardest outcome because his team will more than likely extend the invite to him as well. Maybe it would have been easier that way but you really wanted an excuse to get his number and talk to him.

It felt like eternity had passed before you finally grabbed your phone, but in reality it was probably only a minute, you’ve never had the best self restraint. You unlocked it, opening the home screen, not even bothering to look at the pile of notifications, instead opting to go straight into the message app.

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Hey y/n. I’d be delighted to come. 😁

You let out a loud screech after reading the message. If you were laying down, you’d be kicking your feet in the air and twirling your hair. You knew he was old but the way he texted did something to you. It was weird but the simplicity in his words was such a turn on. Everything about him turned you on, he was sex on legs, and he was coming to your party. You checked the time he sent the message to see that he responded only ten minutes after you had sent yours. You felt bad for leaving him hanging for so long.

You: YAY!! I’ll see you there 😘

The added kiss was bold and flirty, you’d hope he would see it as such. You wanted to continue texting him but didn’t want to bother him, so you left it up for him to decide to text you back or not. Just as you were about to swipe out of the app, three little dots popped up at the bottom of the screen.

Hugh Jackman 🥰: What should I wear? I haven’t been to a club in awhile.

You: wear whatever you want. I'm sure you’d look good in anything ;)

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Thank you sweetheart. I genuinely do need help though. I’m too old to pick out club clothes. 😂

You: hmmm.. if it would help I could send you a picture of my outfit? maybe it will inspire you

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Yeah we can try that.

Ashley begged you to go shopping with her the moment you told her about the event and you both have had outfits picked out for a few weeks. When you got home that day, you put on the outfit, snapping a quick mirror picture to send to your hair and makeup artist so she could start brainstorming. You opted to send the same picture to Hugh.

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Oh! That’s nice.

You laughed at that. The picture of you wasn’t the best quality but you still looked hot. You were wearing a silver mini skirt that was lined with large sequins, ones that reminded you of a purse you had when you were younger. The top was a silver latex halter top that made your cleavage look devine. To top the look off, you wore a pair of shiny silver heels that could almost be classified as stilettos, but you wanted to be able to move around comfortably. You could have easily pulled the outfit out of your closet and snapped a picture of it but you wanted to tease him.

You: thank you! did that help at all? 😊

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Yeah, it did... Thank you sweetheart.

You: no problem!

He didn’t respond right away this time and being the menace you are, you were hoping it was because you made him flustered.

—

The two and half weeks leading up to the listening party seemed to drag on now that you were more excited for it. Now that Hugh was coming, you were also extra nervous. While you got your hair and makeup done, all you could think about was how everyone was about to hear about your sex fantasies for almost an hour straight. You were counting on the beat of the music and the fact that this was everyone's first listening to distract them from processing the lyrics right away. You hadn’t heard much from Hugh and you were scared that you might have offended him with the picture you had sent. You decided to send a text two days ago asking if he was still planning on coming, to which he replied positively.

Butterflies danced around your tummy as you posed for a few pictures before you went out to join the party. You could hear it in full swing, a playlist that you had curated playing in the background. Breathing in and out slowly, someone handed you a microphone and you were being ushered to a small stage that sat in the back of the club. The music got turned down and the lights centered towards you, a wave of quiet flooded the room.

“Hi everyone! I’m beyond thankful for everyone here tonight. This album has been so much fun to make and I feel like it really represents me as an artist. It pays tribute to the amazing women of the late 90s and early 2000s who changed the pop game and who inspired me to make music. I really hope y’all like it! Without further ado, here is ‘Secret Sounds’!” The gathering of your friends, family, and acquaintances cheer as the first song starts to play. You rush over to the side to hand the mic back to the crew member and you begin to make your rounds. You stop here and there, speaking to people you hardly know, thanking them for being here. The club was packed, making it hard to move around without stopping to talk every step you took. There were only a few people you really wanted to see right now. A smile is glued to your face, soaking in all the love in the room, with it only being partially forced. You can see Ashley across the crowd and you start making your way towards her. You don’t make it far before there's a hand on your shoulder stopping you.

“Hey baby.” A familiar voice comes from behind you causing your smile to drop as you turn around.

“Pedro…what are you doing here?” You ask with a mix of shock and irritation in your voice.

“You invited me, remember?” He’s smiling as if he hadn’t broken up with you in the cruelest way almost two months ago.

“I thought you’d be smart enough to take the breakup and me ignoring you as being uninvited.” You roll your eyes.

“Don’t be like that baby.” He’s smiling down at you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. He reaches down to grab your waist but you step back before he can.

“Don’t touch me!” You say louder than anticipated but no one’s paying attention to you over the loud music. “You broke up with me, remember?” You’re thoroughly pissed off.

“I know, baby and I regret it everyday. I want you back y/n. I need you back…” He’s reaching for you again, you step back again.

“I said don’t touch me..” You don’t yell this time. You need to get away from him. This was supposed to be your night and he’s ruining it. You go to turn around but you’re stopped by a very hard object.

“Is everything okay over here?” A gruff voice asks and you feel two hands grab either side of your arms. “Are you okay?” You look up to see Hugh looking down at you, concern in his eyes.

“Hugh..” Your voice is weak and breathless.

“Oh don’t tell me you already moved on?” Pedro lets out, anger lining his words. “What is he, your boyfriend? I wasn’t old enough for you y/n? You had to run and fuck my friend?” His voice grows louder and louder but miraculously no one seems to notice the commotion.

“He’s not my boyfriend…” You mumble, too embarrassed by the situation.

“What’s it to you? Huh? Why don’t you mind your business and leave.” Hugh’s voice matches Pedro’s energy effortlessly. He lets go of your arms and instead points an angry finger at Pedro.

“You know what, I don't need this and I don’t need you.” Pedro says looking into your eyes with a malicious stare. “Good luck with her, she’s nothing but a good fuck and trouble.” He’s walking away before either of you could answer. You felt Hugh go to move towards the directions Pedro went but you stop him by putting your hand on his chest.

“Don’t…” You whisper and you weren’t sure if he could hear you over the music. Tears were starting to pool at the bottom of your eyes, threatening to escape.

“Are you okay y/n?” Hugh asks and that’s all it takes before you let out a soft sob. He puts his hand under your chin and is lifting your head. “Let's get you out of here, is that okay?” All you can do is nod. You grab his hand and walk towards the hallway that leads to the room you got ready in. You open the door and make your way to the couch that sits along the wall. Hugh follows behind, closing the door and takes a seat close to you but not too close. He doesn’t say anything, what could he say?

“I’m sorry.” You let out, tears still falling. You pull your knees up, trying to hide the tears from Hugh, even if he already knew they were there.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.” He cautiously places a hand on your back and rubs it in soft circles, soothing you. You untuck your head for a moment.

“You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” You frown at him.

“What he did is not your fault. Okay?” You can’t find the energy to answer him right away, not sure if you truly believe his words, but you nod anyway.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” Sadness fills your voice.

“What? Why not?” He asks confusingly.

“Everyone is going to think what Pedro thought, that you’re my boyfriend. We shouldn’t be seen together. It won’t be good for you.”

“Hey, don’t think like that sweetheart. Whatever we are is our business, nobody else's. I want to be seen with you, I'm here to support you. I don’t care what people have to say. I’m not him.” His hand stopped moving around your back, eyes filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

I’m not him

You don’t respond but you do feel better about the whole situation. You can hear the fourth song of your album playing and you get hit with another rush of sadness.

“I should probably go back out there, people will start to wonder where I am.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Let's get you cleaned up. Stay right here.” Hugh stands up and grabs a tissue, wetting it slightly by pouring a few drops of water from a water bottle onto it. He walks over and bends down, sitting on his knees right in front of you. Even at this angle, his head is still resting above yours. Hugh grabs your chin lightly and begins to dab the tissue, wiping your tears away. You can feel the heat from the air leaving his nose hitting your face. It’s comforting in a way.

“There we go, good as new.” He says with a big smile. Your faces are inches away from each other and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him in.

“Thank you Hugh. For everything.” You return his smile, eyes locked onto his. You took a moment to appreciate his appearance. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a gray, almost silver button up, as if he tried to match with you.

“Don’t mention it sweetheart” He stands up and offers his hand to you. “Now let’s get the star of the show back out there, yea?”

You grab his hand and smile. “Do I look okay?” You ask, afraid that your disheveled state might have ruined your hair or outfit somehow. You pull him towards a mirror to check your full appearance, a firm grip still on his hand. It engulfed yours beautifully.

“You look gorgeous.” You can tell he means it by the look in his eyes and the small smile that sits on his face. You see a flicker of something in his eyes, you don't fully catch it, but before you can think it over, he’s leaning down to leave a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“Let’s go.” He says pulling you out of the room and back into the sea of people, never letting go of your hand.

Thank you for reading!!

part four

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#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fandom #hugh jackman x popstar!reader #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman smut #popstar!reader #female reader

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sincerelyneo · 10 months ago

Note

omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

#nct smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct scenarios #park jisung scenarios #nct imagines

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greensagephase · 8 months ago

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A Strong Man

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: Chilling with Miguel on the couch but it leads to something else. Miguel recalls last night's activities. Word Count: 743 Warnings: lap grinding; oral sex, female receiving; p in v; unprotected sex (wrap it before - you know the drill): daddy kink (reader calls Miguel "papi"); breeding kink (maybe? does this qualify? idk); size/strength difference kink; reader speaks and understands Spanish; I think that's it Masterlist MINORS PLS DO NOT READ

Imagine hanging out with Miguel on the couch, you’re on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. It's all innocent, just you two cuddling and being cute. You keep showering his face with kisses, unable to stop yourself. He just has such a kissable face!

You keep kissing his face, calling him cute and handsome in between kisses with your sweet voice. Miguel accepts them, his hands lowering to your rear to give a gentle squeeze as you shower him with kisses and compliments. His cheeks are red thanks to your compliments, leaving him flustered. His brain is all fuzzy and overwhelmed with your sweet compliments and attention, your lips so soft against his skin. And of course, your little movements do nothing to help the ache that’s been growing between his thighs since you climbed on his lap.

"And you’re so strong," you say, kissing his neck gently before sucking on his skin, causing his breath to hitch loudly.

"How strong?" he asks in a whisper, his hands gripping your ass tighter.

"So strong, baby,” you murmur against his neck, moving against his lap. You know what you’re doing. “Remember how you had me last night?"

Miguel's pupils dilate as memories of last night flood his mind, how he had you pinned under his weight on your shared bed. You kept squirming, whining and whimpering from being overstimulated while he ate you out. Your sweet whimpers and moans had only fueled his need to keep making you his, making it impossible to stop giving you pleasure by lapping at your sweet little pussy like a starved man, and then fucking you with his big cock, stretching that tight little hole to his size while you cried out his name. You always get so needy, so desperate for him that you beg to be fucked harder - to be filled with his hot cum. And of course, Miguel obliged like he does each time. He fucked your tight sweet pussy until you came around him, your back arching and breasts on display for him. Even during your high, you, his sweet needy girl, begged him to fill your womb with his seed.

“¿Que quieres, preciosa [What do you want, precious]?” he asked as he continued to slide his length along your walls. He was so, so close, but he still wanted to tease you, to hear you say what you wanted.

“A ti, papi [you, daddy],” you said, whimpering. “I need you - I need - fuck!”

“¿Que preciosa? Dilo. ¿Que necesitas? [What precious? Say it. What do you need?],” Miguel grunted out. He was so close.

“Tu [Your]- ah- fuck, papi [Daddy]- your cum - please! Need you - to cum inside me!” you said, desperately bucking your hips against him to help him reach his release, unable to touch him because your hands were pinned above your head.

“You need my cum, eh, princesa [princess]? Papi te dará lo que quieras [Daddy will give you what you want].”

So he did.

Miguel shot his thick, hot load inside you, still pumping his cock into your greedy pussy to push his seed as deep as possible.

Miguel shudders at the memory now, his cock throbbing with need to be inside you again, buried deep in your tight little pussy, and filling it with his cum once more.

"It felt so good, to be pinned down by you - such a strong man," you whisper in his ear, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. "The way you had my wrists pinned above my head... With no way to escape."

Miguel lets out a low growl, pulling you closer and gripping your ass tightly with his large hands, before he leans closer to whisper into your ear. "No way to escape me at all," he whispers before biting your earlobe, cock hard and twitching. He’s sure by now there has to be a damp spot on his briefs from all your damn grinding.

Of course, you feel the way his cock twitches against your heat, your panties beneath your nightgown growing even more damp. "I wouldn't want to escape anyway, papi [daddy]," you say whimpering, grinding your hips against his large bulge, making him groan and grind back, pushing his hips into you to make you feel how hard you've made him.

"Mm, I know you wouldn't my sweet, needy girl," he whispers before he flips you onto your back in the blink of an eye, pinning your hands above your head and nestling himself between your legs to repeat last night’s activities.

A/N: Thank you for reading! <33

Alondra ❤️

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #romance #miguel o'hara x you #atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut

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astrow0rldx · 4 months ago

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pac tarot : their sexual fantasies 🧸 18+

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

current partner/crush, future spouse or next partner (your choice for who your reading for); very straightforward; piles count left to right.

pile one

ooooh okay sexies. the intensity is very turned on by you. they think your very flattering, sexy, arousing. a good sex partner, good fuck and they want YOU bad. (not in a bad way for everyone just sexually). they want to just snatch you up, pull you to the edge of the bed and stick it in you. snatch off your clothes. they don’t want to wait till the destination, we can do it in the car. they want to explore your body and is eager to get into it. fingering, drilling you (going rough/fast), backshots. they want you to be kissing on them, sucking on them, riding them!! and really play the role as their girlfriend who is like their sexual partner with intimacy into it, chemistry and love into it.

i could see mild possesiveness and territorialness. don’t want anyone interfering, joining. they put you on a high pedestal sexually foreal, i can’t guarantee your their favorite it’s different for everyone but .. yk. their dark masculinity rises in them when it comes to their sexual fantasies about you. not really immature but heavily lustful. you turn them on, you make them excited, they fantasize about nasty sex with you. cumming to you, cumming on you. bending you over, drilling you and smacking your ass. and just real nasty nasty sex. i can see on the couch to. i can see them wanting to do 2 things at a time while y’all are fucking. so if it’s missionary, rubbing your clit at the same time, fucking you and grabbing another area at the same time, 69. they want you both to give each other mutual pleasure where it’s balanced in some way and as they explore and be nasty nasty you be a good lover.

if you guys work together, not together, or not to present in each other life’s they want to add you to their schedule. “i been working all day….come home blow your back out, whatever brent faiyaz said. intimate intimate sex. with the music on, to whoever playlist. chilling, for smokers smoking after sex and nice sensual aftercare. maybe lights if one of you guys have them. rubbing on your back, hugging you kissing on you and deep missionary. be what you need. if you guys haven’t had sex they might be definitely fantasizing and plotting on how to make this happen, where, how it will be.

pile two

his role 7of swords, yours 5 of swords. omg TW⚠️ idk what cnc stands for but i think it goes with the grape kink, lol not a sexual vocabularist. anyways yea that’s their sexual fantasy, is them sneaking, doing something not right, taking it from you and your like a victim in this situation. like they might think they own you, and your theirs. control issues. might want to literally kidnap you. for some of the people who your reading about is in another relationship that their cheating on them with, etc for you. or their just dark asf and sexually fantasize about cheating on you and getting away with it while your always there. like i said control issues. they want you to be enslaved to them. they like your boobs, hair. and during sex they want to do a little bit of everything.

they fantasize about if you guys have awkwardness, or fears between you to but it’s like y’all know y’all just have a crush on each other. or maybe if you guys were to be alone and you were nervous, then the emotional side comes out and they fantasize about them giving you love, care, nurture. showering you with love, praise making you feel comfortable and secure.

they see you as a item, valuable item. that they would be lucky to have and settle down with. they fantasize about knowing what to do with you and very smart on what actions, moves, positions, etc with you. i can see them wanting to work to get you in their bed, foreplay, connecting and bonding before, teasing. they fantasize about making up, moving past stuff by fucking you and being a smart, present in the moment, logical not stuck in their heart. (and clever) so if you guys had a rough patch, they fantasize about moving on from that with sex.

pile three

what did you do🥺 they’re so sad. or they just fantasize about sad, emotional, deep vulnerability sex. they want to play the role as someone heart who’s broke, and their intensity of their sexual fantasies is so emo and down. did you fall out of love, did someone cheat. or are you that seducer that’s making them feel guilty for cheating. whatever this sad core is they sexually fantasize about it. read my seduction type earlier post and go to the coquette who is a female manipulator. they may want you to feel unfulfilled in the effort you did and the investment you spent (for some people). also they want to work you out and make you do a lot. definitely fantasize about you working that jaw till nut. they are going to work you like a pro where you don’t even want to go with anyone else or outside.

if something happened outside of sex where you hurt them, they want justice in the bed. “let’s settle this cat fight in the ring… in bed” or however that tiktok audio goes. they might idolize you, your life and wellbeing. your essence. not to unhealthy, just in awe, but heartbroken. could have voyeuristic tendencies (wanting to watch you, naked, have sex etc) for some people, if this person got dark psychological issues. sexually they may want to keep you stuck and confused, tease you psychologically. maybe play hard to get. even could want to get reactions out of you. they definitely want the sex to be investing a lot in, doing a lot. a whole workout, sweat session.

pile four

💕💞💘💗💓 chemistry, fireworks, stars sparkling. they want the lights, the right time, the scenery, the kisses. movie scene genre romance. they want you both to make love and deeply intimately vulnerably connect while you guys have sex. your having sex to express feelings, to bond and connect, to love. they are probably nervous, have anxiety, or overthinking.

not going to lie, whether it’s in bed or just psychologically they might want to push your boundaries, get through you. tame, control, manipulate you. play and fuck with you. something sneaky is going on in their sexual fantasies whether you have to sneak or their sneaking, plotting. they might want to love bomb you. even though their sexual fantasies of the roles they want you to play is so romantic, loving & bonding their sexual fantasies could be a hit it and quit it scenario. they might feel honestly guilty about it which is why they show the extra love lol (for some people).

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justin-chapmanswers · 3 months ago

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you set twitter on fire with pronouns howd you do that

Uhhhhh yeah so. I've been glancing here and there to all of that. For context, people noticed a pronoun adjustment on my Twitter page, yadda yadda, and started making posts about it. Then those posts started getting heat for a variety of reasons. Some that seemed to some to be using misgendering for humor (via meme), some that are pushing against parasociality, some that generally think that spectacle with this stuff should be avoided since I didn't even make a post about it or anything. Etc.

And uh. Ya'know. I vibe with a lotta that.

But tbh while I'm not really one to enjoy spotlight, idk, I don't mind people just generally bringing that stuff up and noting it. If it makes people feel good to see someone they can relate to, sure why not. The only thing that actively concerns me is seeing people argue or attack as a result of me. Let's just keep things chill if we cannn. I feel like everyone that's posted on the subject is all on the same side. None of us are here pushing for the limitation or elimination of lgbtqia people and experiences. That's the kind of thing always worth pushing back against. But I just hope to see everyone in this community vibing and letting joy flow.

When we were working on S3E9 and the writing team was trying to break down the initial story conceit where Goo would initially be a little weirded-out and confused after Bot revealed themself to a non-Bow robot, I was the one who pitched "hey how about we flip the story around to exemplify something a little more specific that also shines a more positive light on Bot and Goo's relationship? How about trying an angle where Goo is characteristically hyper-positive about what they've learned about Bot, but the conflict comes from the intensity and spectacle Goo comes at it with? Then Bot may be uncomfortable, but understands it comes from a good place?" -- I was excited to see that it was the direction the episode ended up going in, both because it felt appropriately lighter, and it felt personal. Making changes in how you present and want to be perceived can be so difficult, and that comes with such a deep well of complicated feelings. But all this to say, yeah I sometimes feel overwhelmed being perceived in online spaces, but even with that in mind, I'd still rather see silliness and celebration than conflict. But that's just meeeee.

Be good to yourselves, be good to each other. I am not mad at anyone. Best wishes. :)

EDIT: Do appreciate all people out there posting for the purpose of defending me. I don't wanna downplay the fact that y'all care, it means a lot. Just figure best to not fan any more flames. All's okay.

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v6quewrlds · 9 days ago

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HOMIESEXUAL II, BURROW & IOSIVAS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow/andrei iosivas x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀6.8k.

summary⠀⁎⠀just as you begin to settle into a slow ease with andrei, joe's late night texts sends you spiraling. paralyzed by the memories of what could have been, you find yourself back to square one.

author's note⠀⁎⠀read part i here. already planning a third part <3 first part focused mostly on andrei, this part focuses mostly on joe. don't ask me what the timeline is or how long anyone's been together, idk man. warnings⠀⁎⠀some usage of y/n, vicious cycles part ii, reader is going through it, literally just angst, sam lowkey meddling.

You leaned against your kitchen counter. Pale marble pressed a deep line into your skin as you took slow, shallow sips of your steaming cup of coffee. You drank it black with just a spoonful of sugar, a silent protest to the bitter taste of the morning after receiving Joe's text. The sun painted the room in a warm glow, but it did little to ease the chill that had settled in your chest.

The subtle creaking of your floor gave away heavy footsteps, interrupting your thoughts. You turned in the direction of the sound to find Andrei emerging from your bedroom, a hopeful smile on his face. "Good morning," he greeted you, stretching out his arms in a yawn.

"Hey," you managed to reply, your voice a bit hoarse from the previous night. He crossed the room and wrapped you in a gentle embrace. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers you weren't ready to give.

"Good," you lied, your mind racing with the weight of your decision. "Really good."

You could feel his heart beating in his chest as he processed your words, and you could hear the deep inhalation as he tried to modulate his reaction. Andrei pulled back, his hands lingering on your arms as he searched for the right response. "So, we're okay?" His voice was a soft whisper, hopeful.

You nodded. "We're okay," you assured him, your voice steady despite the tumult in your thoughts.

"That's all I needed to hear." Andrei's smile grew, crinkling the corner of his eyes. "I really like you. I know we're taking it slow, but I want you to know that." A large hand came down to cup the side of your face, thumb soothing circles into your brown skin before he leaned down to kiss you. It was gentle, slow, and filled with promise.

You returned the kiss, feeling a pang of guilt. You knew you had to tell him about Joe's message, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. Not yet. Instead, you chose to bask in the warmth of his affection, if only for a little longer. "I'm all yours, Andrei," you said, your voice earnest.

As you broke apart, Andrei's eyes searched yours for reassurance. "I'm gonna head out, hit my apartment before practice," he said, reluctance in his tone. "But, I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Soon."

He leaned in once more, softly whispering a question of, "Promise?", against your lips, all deep and soft and sweet. "Promise," you laughed against his lips, the sound light and airy, the promise feeling heavier than it should have.

Once Andrei left, the apartment felt too quiet. The echo of his footsteps down the hall seemed to amplify the silence that followed. You knew you had to get to work, but your legs felt like lead. With a deep sigh, you placed your half-empty coffee mug in the sink and headed to the shower. The hot water washed away the lingering scent of Andrei, but not the weight of Joe's words in your thoughts.

You could practically hear his voice saying those sweet words.

Are you free tomorrow?

You were, in fact, free.

We should do something.

God, you craved to be near him.

Miss seeing you.

You hated that you didn't hate him. Hated that you could feel his words' warmth through your phone's cold screen.

As you stepped into the shower, the hot spray did nothing to wash away the feeling of his embrace from your mind. You knew you had to tell Andrei, but you were scared of losing him and scared of losing your self respect in the process.

The office was bustling when you arrived. By the time Jess met your eye, you had already read and reread the text message fifty times over. The weight of Joe's words hung over you like a dark cloud as you attempted to read into every word choice. You made your way to Jess's desk, where your friend was buried in paperwork, and dropped your bag with a loud thud.

"Tell me everything," Jess demanded, her eyes immediately recognizing the distress in your posture. The two of you retreated to a more secluded area of the office, where the hum of the photocopier and the occasional ring of a phone couldn't penetrate your hushed conversation.

You recounted your tumultuous evening, the text from Joe, and the spiraling that followed. Jess listened intently, her eyes focused on your expression and intermittent sighs.

When you were done, Jess took a deep breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, babe. But, you don't talk about Andrei half as much as you talk about Joe."

The truth of Jess's words stung like a slap. You had been so focused on Joe that you had neglected the good thing you had with Andrei. "I know," you mumbled, dropping your eyes to the floor. "I'm just... every time I think I can move on, it's like he senses it and fucks with my head."

"Babe, you have to start taking some responsibility for your part in this too," Jess said firmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You can't blame Joe for everything, as fucked up as he is. You have to figure out what you truly want and stick to it. Joe can't get through to you if you just… shut the door."

You nodded, knowing your friend was right. You had been playing a dangerous game of push and pull with both men, not truly committing to either. "I know," you sighed. "But it's hard to ignore him when he's been part of my life for so long. It feels incomplete."

Jess anxiously bit her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of understanding and frustration. "I'm sorry, babe. I know it's complicated, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy for you."

You sighed, biting your bottom lip. "I know," you echoed. "You're so lucky you locked down Sam."

Jess rolled her eyes playfully. "You know it wasn't always roses."

"Yeah, but you guys make it look easy now," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "All lovey-dovey and happy."

"It's not easy, but it's worth it," Jess said, her voice filled with conviction. "You just have to figure out what's worth fighting for and who you're willing to fight for it with."

You nodded, following Jess as the two of you headed back into the office to settle into a full day of meetings and paperwork. Despite your friend's advice, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were drowning in a sea of indecision. Every time you thought you had made up your mind, a new wave of doubt crashed over you.

Joe had a headache. It was the kind that lingered, the kind that felt like it was trying to tell him something. He'd had it for days, ever since he pressed send on that late-night text to you. Your read receipts were still on, so he knew you had seen it, but you hadn't responded - something he was aware was entirely intentional on your part. He knew he had crossed a line, knew that he had no right to expect anything from you after everything. Yet, he couldn't help but hope you might answer in whatever way you saw fit. He wanted you to tell him off, to block him, to do anything but ignore him.

The weight room was unusually quiet for a Thursday night. The echo of weights clanking against the floor was the only sound that pierced the thick air of competition and sweat. He was in his element, his muscles flexing with each rep, the grunts of effort escaping his lips as he pushed through an impromptu workout.

His mind was racing, replaying every interaction with you since he had stepped into the league. Flashes of moments and bites of sound played in his mind like a movie reel, the sweetness of your laughter, the magnetism of your figure, mixing with the harshness of your silence. He had to do something, had to find a way to explain why he had always been so afraid of what the two of you could have been.

He heard the clinking of Sam's workout bag before he saw the defensive end enter the gym. Sam's eyes met his, not a single hint of surprise in his expression. They had known each other for too long, had seen each other at their highest and lowest points. Sam knew he would be here. "Need a spot?" Sam offered, his voice carrying over the gym's ambient noise.

Joe removed his headphones, the music's thumping bass cutting off abruptly. He nodded, welcoming the distraction. "Yeah, thanks, man," he said, gesturing to the barbell on the rack.

As Sam helped him lift the weight, Joe couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that his friend knew something was up. Sam always had a knack for reading him, and Joe's restlessness was as clear as day. "So, how's it going with... you know?" Sam asked, his voice low enough not to carry.

Joe let out a heavy breath, setting the barbell back onto the rack and swapping places with Sam. "It's complicated," he said, not meeting Sam's eyes. "She's not answering my texts."

"Maybe she's just busy," Sam said, not bothering to hide his skepticism. He knew full well the kind of hold Joe had on you. "Or maybe she's finally putting her foot down. Gained a backbone or something?"

Joe chuckled, the sound hollow. "Maybe," he allowed, though he doubted it. "I don't know what I'm doing, dude. I just keep fucking things up with her."

Sam paused his reps, eyeing Joe with a mix of frustration and pity. "You know what you're doing, Joe. Always have."

Joe rolled his shoulders, ignoring the accusation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam set the barbell back, siting up with a groan. "It means," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "that you keep playing games with her because you think you don't deserve what you really want."

Joe's eyes narrowed, but Sam continued, unphased. "You're afraid of being with her, of committing to her. You think you're not good enough for her, so you keep her at arm's length so she doesn't find out. It's annoying, really. You both deserve better."

Joe felt the sting of truth in Sam's words. He rolled his neck, the tension building. "It's not like that," he protested, though even he could hear the doubt in his voice. "I'm just... I don't know what I want."

"Well, you're going to have to figure it out," Sam said, his voice firm. "Because if you keep playing this game, you're going to lose her for good. And I can't say I'd blame her if she chose Andrei. He's sweet to her, treats her right."

Joe's jaw tightened at the mention of Andrei's name. He knew he didn't have the right to feel possessive, but the thought of losing you to his teammate, someone who could be around you all the time, was like a knife in the gut. He had always thought of Andrei as a friend, but now, the line felt blurred. "I know," he said through gritted teeth. "But it's not that simple."

"I don't know, it might be, bro," Sam said, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "Sometimes, things are exactly as simple as they seem. You love her, she loves you, but you're too scared to tell her that because you're afraid of the expectations that come with it."

Joe couldn't argue with that. He had spent so long building a wall around himself that the thought of letting someone in, really in, was terrifying. But as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew that the wall had been built for one person, and one person only.

"Look, I know it's not my place," Sam started again, his voice softer. "But she's like a little sister to me. I hate seeing her agonize over you. If you're not capable of giving her what she deserves, then maybe you should step aside."

Joe's hands curled into fists at the thought. "Fuck," he muttered, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. He knew his friend was right. He had been selfish, playing with your emotions because he was too afraid to step up to your expectations. But could he really let you go? He didn't know if he had the strength to do that.

"Just think about it," Sam murmured, turning to leave the weight room. His words hung in the air, thick and heavy as the silence settled once again. Joe knew Sam was right, but thinking wasn't the problem. It was the doing that had always been his issue.

You hummed to yourself as you put away the last of your folded laundry, setting aside a few stray pieces of clothing you recognized as belonging to Andrei and a jacket you borrowed from Jess.

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand brought you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen, caught off-guard by a memory notification from your Photos app. It was a video of you and Joe, probably taken during one of your many easygoing nights before it all became so serious.

The two of you were laughing, the camera wobbling as Joe tried to get a good angle of your face while you attempted to explain some ridiculous late-night food combination. You watched it once, twice, the familiar warmth of nostalgia washing over you.

"What the hell is that?" He laughed, blue eyes twinkling as you continued to giggle hysterically. Your words kept getting caught in your throat as you tried to explain the combination of bacon and peanut butter on toast.

You closed the odd sandwich together, holding a corner out for him to try. "It's good, I promise," you said through your laughter. Joe eyed you skeptically before setting the camera down against the toaster, the video shifting to show the two of you standing in his kitchen.

An oversized sage green long-sleeve belonging to him hung off your smaller frame, the hem of the shirt brushing against your thighs as you stepped closer to him, trying to convince him to take a bite. He was dressed in sweats and a ridiculous tie-dye t-shirt, the colors of his outfit clashing horribly against each other.

He leaned in, the smell of mint on his breath as he took the bite. His eyebrows furrowed as he chewed, and you couldn't help but laugh harder, the sound echoing through the phone. The memory washed over you, a warm wave of nostalgia that you hadn't felt in a long time. But it was the way he looked at you after he swallowed, with a hint of wonder in his eyes, that made your heart clench as you watched.

"Good?" you asked, watching him expectantly.

Joe grumbled with a reluctant smile, wiping the crumbs from the bread on his lip. He leaned in for another bite, the two of you sharing a laugh as you held the sandwich away from him like a prize. His hands grabbed at your waist, playfully trying to take a bite without your permission before resorting to kissing you instead.

"Delicious," he murmured as he pulled away from your lips, his wandering hands making it clear he wasn't just talking about the sandwich. You only hummed in response, tearing the remainder of the sandwich in half as he reached to shut off the camera.

The video ended there, but the memory didn't. It played on in your mind, the way his hands felt, the way his mouth moved against yours, and you realized you had been holding your breath. You set the phone aside, your heart racing as you sat on the edge of your bed, the coolness of the comforter a stark contrast to the heat that seemed to envelop you.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel everything you had been pushing down for weeks. The longing, the regret, the anger. It all gripped at your heart, pulling you back to a time when you didn't have to think about the consequences of your actions. Back when you lived, breathed, and loved Joe without apprehension. But you knew you couldn't live in the past. With a deep breath, you stood up, tucking the stray strands of hair behind your ear and walking into the bathroom to splash your face with water.

The coolness helped to center you, but the reflection staring back was one of uncertainty. You had promised yourself you would take things slow with Andrei, that you would give him a chance. But as much as you tried to convince yourself that you had moved on, Joe remained a constant in your thoughts, a shadow haunting your happiness.

You beelined for your phone, your brain screaming at you to get up and delete the video, to erase every trace of Joe from your mind. But your thumb hovered over the screen, unable to follow through. Instead, you decided to just block his number, hoping - in vain - that would be the end of it. The video remained, but at least you wouldn't be so tempted to respond to any more of his messages.

Andrei loved the build-up to game days. The adrenaline was palpable, the tension in the air was electric, and the camaraderie among the team was something he cherished. Everyone was hyped up, settling into their seats on the team plane, ready to take on the Cowboys tomorrow. The conversation around him was a mix of trash talk and strategy, bonds being strengthened with every laugh and shared glance.

You had sent him off to Dallas with a good luck message, a photo of yourself in a #80 jersey attached to the sweet message.

The seatbelt sign flickered off, and the team started to move around the cabin, the noise level rising as the players talked and stretched their legs. Andrei felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Sam sitting in the empty aisle seat next to him. "Hey, Drei," Sam said, reaching a hand out to dap him up. "Seat taken?"

Andrei grasped his hand with a shake of his head. "Nah, man, have a seat."

Sam nodded and took the empty seat. "Look, I know I don't have the right to say anything, but I had to talk to you about something. Get it off my conscience." His expression grew serious as he leaned in closer to Andrei. "How are things with Y/N?"

Andrei's smile faltered a bit. "Good," he said, unsure of where this conversation was heading. "We're taking things slow, but it's all good."

Sam leaned in, his expression earnest. "Look, Joe's my boy, and I don't want to get in the middle of your business, but I care about her too. Just be careful, Drei. Let things happen naturally, you know?"

Andrei nodded, not quite sure what Sam was trying to tell him but appreciative of his concern. "Yeah, man, we are. Things are good. Why?"

Sam took a deep breath, his gaze darting around the cabin before settling back on Andrei. "It's just, Joe's been... I don't know. Different. He talked to me about her the other day, and it was like he realized for the first time that she's actually with someone else. And they're stubborn, you know?" He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I just don't want you to get hurt, man. He's got a history with her, and I know it's not fair, but sometimes, history has a way of repeating itself. I'm sure she's trying her best to let you in, but she could really break your heart, dude."

Andrei nodded, his thoughts racing. He had felt the same tension from Joe lately, the way he had been looking at him, the awkward pauses in conversation despite the front he was putting up of being a good sport. Andrei knew he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to lose you, but he also didn't want to be the rebound or the guy who messed around with his friend's girl.

Andrei sighed, eyes darting over to Joe who was playing a round of chess with BJ. "Be honest with me, dude. If she had to, ultimatum or whatever, who do you think she'd choose?"

Sam's gaze followed Andrei's. "If it's down to it, she'll always choose Joe," he admitted, his voice low. "It's just the way it is. I'm not saying it's right or fair to you, but that's the reality. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she's still holding on to what could have been with him. And Joe... he's realizing he might actually lose her for good and it's not sitting well with him."

Andrei nodded slowly, taking in Sam's words. He knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated the honesty. "I gotta ask you something, 'cause it's been bothering me," he began. "Why didn't anyone say anything when I first started seeing her? A bunch of guys on the team knew about Joe and her, but no one warned me. It's kinda fucked up, you know?"

Sam's expression tightened, and he leaned back in his seat. "It's... complicated, Drei," he said, his voice a mix of regret and loyalty. "We all thought it was a good idea at first, keep our mouths shut, let things play out. We didn't want to start any drama, especially with you finding your rhythm in the offensive. Maybe we should've said something, I guess. I just don't know if it would've made a difference."

Andrei nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew Sam was right; you and Joe had a history that ran deep. It wasn't fair to any of you, but here you were. "Thanks for being straight with me, Sam," he said, his voice tight. "I'll think about it."

The rest of the flight passed in a blur, the conversation with Sam playing on repeat in Andrei's mind. He knew he had to talk to you about it, but the right words escaped him. How could he express his fears without pushing you away or making you feel guilty?

The team arrived in Dallas, and the day of the game approached fast. The energy in the hotel was intense, players going through their pregame rituals, eyes glued to game tape, and coaches barking out last-minute instructions. Andrei found refuge in the routine of it all, pushing his conversation with Sam to the back of his mind as he focused on the task at hand.

The offensive played an explosive game, coming out with a win against the Cowboys. On the flight back to Cincinnati, Andrei found himself isolated from the rest of his exhausted, but jubilated teammates. By the time they touched down, Andrei was texting you with an excuse, telling you he'd see you tomorrow, that his mind was exhausted and he just needed to crash at his own place tonight.

On the other side of the phone, you were frowning as you read the text out loud to Jess. The two of you were in a familiar position on game nights when Sam was away, sauced wings forgotten on the coffee table as you dissected every text message and emoji. "What do you think that means?" you asked, biting your lip.

Jess took a swig of her beer, shaking her head. "Maybe he's finally realized you'll never get off Joe's dick." Her tone was blunt, unable to hide her laugh when you sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, I know it's harsh, but you've got to cut that shit out. You either go for Joe or you stick with Andrei. You can't keep playing this game, especially if Joe's gonna keep popping up like a fucking jack-in-the-box every time you get cozy with another guy." Jess was tipsy, clearly. Her words always held a little more bite when she had alcohol flowing through her system.

You sighed, setting your phone down. "The thing is, I finally brought myself to block Joe. But now Andrei's acting weird, and I don't know if it's because of Joe or because he's just tired from the trip."

Jess leaned in, her voice softer. "He said he was too tired to be present with you. Maybe just believe him?"

You nodded, feeling a little foolish. "Why can't my relationships ever be normal?" you said with a groan, flopping back on the couch, and taking a sip of your beer.

Jess reached over to grab your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I love you, so much, babe. But you gotta start making your own decisions, stop letting these men dictate your happiness," she said, her gaze full of sisterly love. "You're a badass, and it's about time you start acting like it."

The front door rustled as Sam turned the key, letting himself in. Jess stood up to greet him, pressing a few sloppy kisses to his lips, congratulating him on the win as she began to babble in his arms.

"It was a beer kinda night, huh?" Sam asked, holding Jess' waist in one arm as they shuffled over to the couch where you sat nursing the rest of your lukewarm beer.

"Your beer kinda sucks, Hubbard," you muttered, scowling when he reached over to pluck the beer from your hand in response.

Sam chuckled, placing it aside. "You know I don't stock that shit," he said, pecking Jess' cheek as he sank into the couch next to Jess. "What's with the face?"

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "Boys," you muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stood to head off to the kitchen. "I shouldn't have asked. Not surprised."

He returned with a protein bar in hand, taking his seat and shifting an affectionate Jess into his lap with a smile and a kiss to her forehead. "I spoke to Andrei yesterday. I don't know what kind of magic hold you have over these guys, but it has to be studied." Sam's words cut through the air, his gaze steady on you.

You paused, "You talked to Andrei?"

Sam nodded. "I had to. He had some questions and I felt kinda shitty that no one warned him about you and Joe." He took a bite of his protein bar, eyeing you as he chewed.

"Sam," Jess gasped, a hint of a scold in her tone. "Andrei just sent her a weird, cryptic text."

Sam's gaze softened, looking at you with concern. "What's up with that?"

"I don't know what's going on. Maybe it's just the stress of the season or the travel, but it feels like something's off." You picked at your fingernails, your gaze on the TV that was playing the game's highlights.

Sam looked at you with a furrowed brow. "That's weird. He seemed fine when we left Dallas."

Jess leaned forward, placing her hand on Sam's knee. "Well, maybe he's just tired. You all are."

Sam nodded, swiping a hand over his face. "Yeah, could be. But I'll keep an eye on him."

Whatever had come over Andrei that night didn't seem to stick around for long. By Monday night, he was asking you to come over after work. You agreed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. When you arrived, Andrei greeted you with a warm smile, his arms open wide. You fell into your usual routine, ordering takeout before Andrei's hand slipped under your shirt, then shifted you into his lap, teasing you about your inability to pay attention to the movie you picked out.

"Just focus, baby," Andrei murmured in your ear, his voice filled with amusement as you squirmed against his lap.

You licked your lips, releasing a strangled moan as your hand moved down to cover Andrei's dipping into your leggings. You could feel the heat rising in your face, the tension in the room thickening with every touch. You bit back a surprised moan when he flipped you onto your back, the couch cushions molding to the curve of your spine as he hovered over you, a fiery determination in his eyes.

Andrei's kisses grew more urgent, his hands exploring your body with a gentle insistence that made your toes curl. You could feel yourself getting lost in him again, the warmth of his touch pushing your worries to the furthest corners of your mind.

His familiar heartbeat soothed your own as you pressed your cheek to his chest. "I missed you yesterday," you spoke up with bated breath.

"I missed you too," Andrei responded, stroking your cheek gently.

The two of you lay there, basking in the afterglow, your breaths gradually evening out. The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

You allowed yourself to be swept up in the final touches of wedding planning with Jess as the season came to a close. Each step was a welcome distraction from the question marks of your love life. The bachelorette party came and went, followed by the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.

The dinner was supposed to be a swirl of laughter and goodwill, but when you and Joe found yourselves staring at the only two empty seats, side by side, the air grew thick with uneasy hesitation. You felt the heat from his leg when he reluctantly sat to your right, his broad frame taking up more than his share of the formerly empty space.

His eyes would flicker over to yours as you spoke, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, but he remained mostly silent. It was strange, the way he could make you feel so at ease and so frazzled all at once. As the evening progressed, Joe remained polite and friendly, but there was a distance between you that was palpable.

And it killed you.

The wedding day was a blur of formalwear and champagne toasts. As maid of honor, you were busy ensuring everything went off without a hitch. The ceremony was beautiful, and as Jess and Sam shared their first dance, you couldn't help but shed a few tears.

By the time the groomsmen began to loosen their ties, the reception was in full swing. The open bar was doing its job, and the dance floor was crowded with swaying bodies, the air thick with the scent of cologne and alcohol. Sam was in the middle of a dance circle, Jess clinging to his arm as she threw her head back in an elated laugh.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to find Joe standing there, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey," he greeted. His cheeks were flushed, a hint of whiskey on his breath. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just taking a break. My feet are killing me."

Joe chuckled, his eyes sweeping over you. "You made a great speech by the way. I thought it was really sweet."

Your heart skipped a beat. You had tried to ignore the way Joe looked at you that night, the way his eyes held yours just a second longer than anyone else's, the way he made you feel like you were the only other person in the room.

You forced a smile. "Thanks, yours too."

"I know this is probably the worst time to do this, but can we talk?" Joe's voice was low, barely audible over the thumping music.

Your pulse quickened. You had hoped to avoid this conversation, at least until Jess and Sam were out of sight. But here he was, looking at you with those pretty blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you, and you folded. "Sure," you said, your voice a whisper.

You stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air a relieving departure from the stuffy reception hall. The music was a distant hum, muffled by the glass walls. You leaned against the railing, your heart racing as Joe stepped closer, mirroring your stance.

"Look, I know we've had our issues," he began, his voice earnest. "But I've never stopped caring about you. So, I figured I should actually apologize for being such a dick."

Your throat tightened. "You don't have to, Joe." Your eyes were downcast, hoping to avoid showing him just how uncertain you were.

Joe's expression grew serious. "No, I do. I messed up. And I know you're with Andrei now, and I respect that. I just needed to tell you I'm sorry for how I handled things." He paused, searching for the right words. "It's my fault we're not together. I was too scared to be the man you deserve."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "What are you saying, Joe?"

Joe took a deep breath, looking out at the twinkling city lights. "I'm saying that I love you. And I don't want to see you settle for less than what you deserve." He turned to face you, his gaze intense, hoping you'd met him just a quarter of the way. "I know Andrei's a good guy, and he makes you happy in ways that I never did. So, hold on to him. Give him a chance. You deserve it."

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of doubt or hidden intent.

Then you scoffed, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Joe's brows shot up.

Your eyes searched his, the weight of his words heavy on your chest. "You're telling me you love me now? After all the shit you've put me through?"

Joe took a step closer, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "I know, and I'm not asking for anything in return. I just want you to be happy, even if that means it's with someone else."

"You're a fucking coward, Joe," you spat, pushing his hand away. "You can't just say 'I love you' now and expect me to be okay with that. I am trying to move on and you pull this shit with me? Fuck you."

Joe's eyes widened in surprise at your outburst. "Y/N, I'm just trying to be honest with you. I didn't mean to mess up your night."

"Well, you did!" you exclaimed, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet balcony. "I can't believe you'd do this here, of all places."

Joe's face fell. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I didn't want to ruin Jess and Sam's day, but I had to tell you how I feel in person. I didn't know when I'd see you again."

Your hands flew to your head, fighting back tears of frustration. "This isn't fair," you murmured, your voice cracking. "You can't just do this to me, Joe. Not now."

Joe reached for you again, but you stepped back, holding up a hand to stop him. "No, don't. I can't trust myself around you."

"Y/N," he pleaded, but you were already turning away, facing the skyline again as you gathered your words without the threat of his baby blues breaching your thought process.

"I'm so angry with myself," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I thought I was getting over you, Joe. I really did. But here I am, still feeling like this."

Joe stepped closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder but not quite touching you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I wish I could fix everything."

You ignored him, your mind racing as the emotions of the past few months crashed over you like an all-consuming wave. "I'm so in love with you, it makes me angry. Why can't you just be what I need?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Joe said softly, his own voice cracking. "I wish I could be that for you."

The music from inside the reception grew louder as someone opened the balcony door. The cold air doing little to settle the heat building between you two. You could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as you exhaled slowly.

"If you know, why couldn't you just do it? Why are you always out of reach?" you demanded, your eyes swimming with tears. "I fucking love you, Joe. And it's killing me that I can't have you."

Joe's gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening. "I don't know," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "If I had a chance, I'd fix it. But, you deserve to be happy with Andrei. He's good for you."

"But what if I can't be happy with Andrei?" The question slipped from your lips before you could catch it. You saw the pain in Joe's eyes, and it mirrored your own. "What if all I want is you?"

Joe took a step back, his face a mask of torment. "Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"It's so fucked up," you laughed incredulously. "Andrei's right in front of me, begging to be loved and all I can think about is missing you, asshole."

Joe's gaze met yours, and you saw the true sadness in his eyes. "It's not your fault," he said. "We had our moments. We had a good thing going."

Your breath hitched. "Yeah, we did."

For a moment, the world outside of you stopped spinning. The laughter, the music, the distant chatter of your friends – it all faded away. You stared at each other, the truth of your feelings hanging in the air like mist.

"I miss you," Joe admitted, genuine pain reflecting in his eyes.

Your chest ached. "I miss you too. So much it hurts."

He stepped closer, his hand brushing your cheek. You felt his warmth seep into your skin in that familiar way that always managed to leave you defenseless. "Then why are we doing this to ourselves?"

Your eyes searched his, a mix of anger, love, and despair swirling in their depths. "Because you won't let me go, Joey," you murmured. "Because every time I start to move on, you pull me back in. You can't do that anymore, sweetheart. It's not fair."

Joe leaned in closer, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your bottom lashes. "I know," he whispered, his breath warm on your skin. "I'm sorry."

Your chest tightened as you leaned into his touch, craving the comfort he seemed to still bring you. "Why can't we just be together?" you asked, the desperation in your voice clear.

"I don't know, baby," Joe said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we can't keep doing this to each other."

You felt the tears falling down your cheeks as you nodded. "But it's so hard."

Joe leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "I know it is, baby. I know. But it's Jess and Sam's night, we can't do this right now. Gotta get back inside, focus on them."

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. "I know," you whispered.

Joe's hand lingered on your cheek before he pulled away. You felt the chill of the breeze replace his warmth. He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours one last time before he turned and walked back towards the party. You watched him go, your heart feeling heavier than it had in a long time.

Hot tears clouded your vision as Joe disappeared back into the reception, leaving you alone on the balcony. The cold night air did little to cool the fire of emotions burning within you. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to calm down. With a heavy heart, you turned and went back inside, finding a bathroom to collect yourself. You wiped your eyes, touched up your makeup, and took a deep breath before returning to the ballroom.

As you stepped back into the bustling room, the music and laughter hit you like a wall. You spotted Joe across the dance floor, stopped by some Ohio State teammates before he could make it to the bathroom, and felt a pang of guilt. His nose was noticeably red, eyes puffy from crying, even from your spot several feet away from him. You knew that look all too well. You had seen it before, reflected back at you in the mirror.

You found Jess and Sam, who were dancing together, their happiness so palpable it almost made your heart ache. You couldn't ruin this for them. You couldn't let Joe ruin this night for you. Not again. You approached them, a laugh erupting from your chest as Sam sloppily spun Jess around before dipping her for a kiss that received cheers from your friends.

"You two look amazing," you yelled over the music, your voice tight but contained.

"I'm so glad you're here, babe," Jess exclaimed, clearly more inebriated than you previously thought. Sam grinned at you, his eyes glinting with the same love and happiness that filled Jess's voice.

You forced a smile, your thoughts still swirling around Joe's confession. "Me too," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice from betraying your emotions.

When you finally stumbled into your hotel room a few hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, fully dressed, the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you. The room was spinning, not just from the alcohol but from the tumult of emotions you had kept bottled up all night. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the wedding reception that still rang in your ears.

Your phone remained still on the bedside table, taunting you with the silence from both Andrei and Joe. You contemplated for a moment, biting your lip nervously before exhaling a "Fuck it," and reaching out for it. Your thumbs worked quickly, swiping through your phone to find Joe's contact, unblocking him before you could change your mind. Then you dumped it back onto the table, exhaling softly as you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep.

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