#if you find any I missed please let me know!!

[ja3yun]

Please Be Real | P.JS

ex!jongseong x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut(mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, begging, hurt w comfort, petnames (baby, princess), mentions of intoxication, alcohol, heavy conversation around wanting children, badly written, reupload, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: you never thought you would hear the name park jongseong again until you get a call from one of his friends begging for your help a/n: hi! this is a reupload!! so if you think you've read it, that's because you have <3 i didn't edit this one and i think you will be able to tell since my writing is a little sloppy compared to now but i love this fic a lot. i was actually planning a new one today (sub jake) but i fear that one isn't finished yet! so please enjoy. as always, comments, feedback and reblogs are all welcome! love u <33

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your six-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart.��

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward carefully, “Jjongie?” you say calmly, trying to pull him out of his dispaired state and avoid startling him. “It’s me, baby, look at me,” 

Jongseong's body tenses at your voice and he slowly lifts his head, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the stinging discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own hurt, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using the pad of your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

Jongseong leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin. He desperately nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation of your touch, the very thing he has been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks with a raised brow, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you, pathetic and distressed.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves difficult as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount if he’s this bad..

“Like…two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces as he says it, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend. It was hard to watch him, pound spirit after spirit, and be helpless in telling him to stop. He’s not exaggerating either, he must have spent at least £600 in there. Each round was a triple, accompanied by a few shots to wash the Jack and Coke down.

"Oh, baby," you sigh softly, returning your attention to Jongseong. You press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. In some way, the scent of his shampoo also gives you some ease within the chaos. His response to your affection is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace. There’s a crushing wave of empathy that you feel wash over you right at this moment. It hurts, seeing him like this and hearing of his struggles - ex or not - you care about him, and you also understand his pain.

You need to get him home. He’s a fucking mess and the longer he stays like this, the more it’s going to wear all four of you out. So, with a gentle hand, you pull him back and lift his jaw up to look at you. It was probably the worst decision you could have ever made. He looks…broken.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, squeezing his chin as almost a gentle pinch, to prove you’re not letting him go. This instantly relaxes Jongseong, though, his hands still grip onto you for dear life. His friends go to help you, break him away and buckle him in the backseat, but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, heavy concern etched on his face. "No way. He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the apartment without us.”

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up. "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute and brooking no argument.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod, still teetering on the edge of arguing with you. But, they know better and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose. You’ve been in this state before too, so you can recognise the blackout glaze that he’s trying to fight away as he keeps his eyes on you. He’s so scared you’ll just vanish into thin air. “I’m right here. Go to sleep.”

Surprisingly, he listens to your reassurance, closing his eyes and drifting off, allowing you to slide into the driver's seat. You turn the keys as the engine begins humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house fills you with a nervous energy that tightens in your chest. This wasn’t just his flat—it used to be your shared home. For two and a half years, this place held countless, irreplaceable memories, moments you thought you’d cherish forever.

You were the one who left, finding a new place closer to work and convincing yourself it was the practical choice. But deep down, you knew the real reason: you couldn’t bear the constant reminders of him that lingered in every room, every piece of furniture, every shadow of your life together.

Looking back now, it feels selfish. You left him here, surrounded by the remnants of your relationship, without considering how he might feel. While you escaped to a fresh start, he was left to live among the echoes of what you once had.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny, but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. 

The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times when life seemed so simple and easy. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You shake the thoughts away and guide Jongseong toward the bedroom. Each step feels heavy, as you’re encompassed with memories that surround you. He’s been living in a time capsule, and while you’re struggling to look at it all now, you wonder how he has managed to endure it for all these months.

His arm is slung over your shoulder as his weight presses down on you, however, it’s the feeling of his nose brushing against your hair that nearly stops you in your tracks. He breathes in deeply, and for a brief moment, it feels like he’s trying to ground himself in the familiarity of you.

You help Jongseong onto the bed, propping him up carefully. “I’m going to grab you some clean boxers, okay?” you say softly. He doesn’t respond, lost in his own haze, so you move toward the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

You’re no better, though. You think of the hoodie you tucked into your suitcase before you left, the one you’ve worn so many times on nights when the loneliness felt unbearable. Its scent is fading too, just like this shirt, but you still cling to it, just as he clings to this. Both of you, in your own quiet ways, are holding onto the fragments of a love neither of you has been able to let go of.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hello Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he 

mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, baby," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you from behind, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he wanted to open his eyes, he couldn’t - they were sealed shut, held together by something stubborn. Had he been crying last night? Wait, what did happen last night?

Fragments of the evening begin to resurface as he sifts through the haze: Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the chaotic vibe of the bar, and the questionable decision to ride the mechanical bull. After that? A blank.

As he struggles to piece it all together, you watch him futilely attempt to pry his eyes open. Deciding to help, you gently swipe your thumb across his lids, clearing away the dried remnants of tears and sleep. His body tenses at your touch, his expression clouded with confusion.

Was he hallucinating? The sensation felt so real - too real. Or maybe the girl he brought home last night had a touch uncannily like yours. God, he hoped it was the first one.

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements - this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay-”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry and interrupt him, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is truly laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So, with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you say, even if you are a day late.

[vettelsvee]

SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader

SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“What if you taught me some Spanish?”

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”

You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.

“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”

Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.

“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”

“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.

“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”

What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.

Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.

And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.

While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.

“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”

You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.

“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.

“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”

“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”

“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”

Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.

“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.

“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”

The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.

As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:

“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”

You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.

From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.

Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.

During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.

You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.

“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.

“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.

“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”

“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”

You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.

“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”

“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”

You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.

“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”

“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.

However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.

“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”

You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.

“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.

“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.

“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”

You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.

“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”

Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.

“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”

“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”

Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:

“So… are you two dating or not?”

“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.

Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.

That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.

Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.

I’m not a little girl anymore.

“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.

“Understood…”

“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”

Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.

“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”

With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.

“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”

[kitsuneplushie]

locked onto you⭑.ᐟ

what happens when your outfit is just a tad bit revealing?・suggestive content below! everything is mostly implied, sorry i'm too nervous to write actual smut. minors please don’t interact!!

˙ . ꒷ 🤍. 𖦹˙— a/n: sorry if this is a bit ooc, i haven’t written anything in so long that the original concept of this (it was supposed to be like revealing halloween costume) long passed AND this paragraph has been rewritten thrice. i struggled with these so bad if i’m honest bc i wrote half of it while being half asleep and my notes were sOOO BAD. i hope you enjoy nonetheless!! i love you all mwah

any pov but mentions of reader in a dress・not proofread

⌗ rafayel ⭑.ᐟ

“did my bodyguard get flushed down the drain or something? what’s taking you so long?” rafayel whined, shaking the doorknob impatiently. you brushed him off, regretfully staring at the mirror. the model in the ad wasn’t this exposed… right? you sighed, running your hands down your outfit, in hopes that you could make it just cover a bit more of you. “hellooo?” he continued to pout.

“okay okay.. stop your whining! i’m coming out.” you replied defeated. there was nothing more you could do. you had to face him, you were nearly running out of time. you slowly slipped out of the bathroom, meeting rafayel’s gaze. you both stayed silent, staring at each other. his ears and parts of his face shifted into a bright red hue. "weren’t you just in a hurry to go? why are you just standing here?" you teased, crossing your arms.

"well, maybe can just skip-"

"you're seriously not suggesting we cancel last minute, right?" you interrupted. “especially since this exhibition is for you specifically. you can’t just cancel! it’d look bad on both of our parts.” you continued lecturing him. you ushered him along.

on the way to the party, you noticed how handsy he was with you. especially when the driver tried to make conversation with you. rafayel pouted, leaning against you. his fingers brushed against your thighs at the very moment you arrived at the venue. you gave him a glance as you got out. he wasn’t this open with pda usually. there was something… off.

thomas catches you two up on the exhibition. as he does, rafayel is absolutely not listening. his attention is on a strand of your hair. he gently toys with it. you smile and nod in response to thomas, ushering rafayel along. “hey. earth to rafayel? c’mon you need to focus on. potential clients can approach at any moment!” you whispered to him. he deeply sighed before pouting at you. you opened your mouth to lecture him more but before you got a world out… people started approaching.

one person became two. two people became five. and so on. “mhm. oh! actually, i have to meet with my manager for a moment. excuse me. miss bodyguard? will you escort me?” rafayel quickly smiled. you squinted your eyes at him for a moment before accepting. wasn’t like you had a choice. rafayel led the way, taking you to an empty part of the venue. it was separated from rafayel’s exhibit. he sat down on a bench, letting out a soft sigh. you stood in front of him, crossing your arms.

“rafayel, what are we-“

he pulled you closer to him. he leaned his head against your stomach, looking up at you. you felt your face start to flush. “i just want a moment alone with you. you’re too distracting in that dress.” you’re head started to buzzed from the compliment. not to mention how close he was. you felt his hands rest on your lower back as he continued to lean against you.

“we really should get going..” you uttered, placing a hand on his arm. you know you should push him away, but you couldn’t find the strength in you. he whined.

“please?” he asked. “it’s hard to focus. help me…” he pouted. he leaned back on the bench, inviting you to sit on his lap. you ran your hand through your hair as you looked down at him. as much as you should’ve just said no. you gave in, sitting on his lap.

“you’re lucky you’re so alluring, idiot.” you whispered, kissing his neck. “now be a good boy and stay quiet.”

⌗ sylus ⭑.ᐟ

“didn’t take you for being someone who likes to be fashionably late.” sylus said from outside the door. “i think we want to get there when there’s still a party going on kitten.”

you rolled your eyes at his remark. ‘why would they throw a party at such late notice. especially with a dress code.’ you silently cry to yourself. you’ve been dressed for a bit actually. it’s just… this dress is way more revealing than you could of thought. is this just normal for the N109 zone? you let out a deep breath. this was your only choice.

“easy for you to say! you really expect me to show up like this?” you whined, swinging the door open. you look up to see sylus. his gaze was completely on you, his eyes looked you up and down.

“hm.” he replied moving closer, inspecting your outfit. he stayed silent still, walking around you. goosebumps spilled throughout your body as you felt his gaze fixated on you. "on second thought. stay here a moment." he finally stated, walking back out of the room. you let out a deep breath, as you walked back towards his bed. you patiently waiting for him to return. you expected him to be gone only a few minutes. but he sure was taking his time. right after he teased you about it. you roll your eyes and head out to find him.

you walked downstairs, seeing him talking with luke and kieran. they both peered their head over sylus. to glance over at you. they both slightly tilted their heads before focusing on sylus. "i take it that you two understand?" he asked. they both nod and quickly head off. "you as well mephisto." the crow cawed in response, stretching out it's wings. it flew in the direction of the pair, quickly catching up.

"now who's fashionably late? didn't you want to leave while there's still a party?" you teased, walking down towards him. sylus chuckled, turning around to meet you. "i thought you were going to get me a different dress."

"don't worry about it kitten."

"you really think i should go out like this? i... don't know. i think i'd draw too much attention and-"

"you're really stressed about this, huh?" he asked, tracing the strap with his finger. before you could reply, he started walking up the stairs. he looked at you, and tilted his head upstairs. you sighed and followed him. you didn't know what he had planned but was there even an other option. as soon as you reached his room again, his hands returned on you. "you look gorgeous in the dress though. i don't know how i'd feel having anyone else see you like this." he rested his face in the crook of your neck, facing you towards a mirror. his lips soft brushed against your neck.

"sylus... i can't." you mustered, dodging your reflection. "this information is very crucial. i can't afford to miss getting it."

"i know, i know." he softly replied. he brushed a stray hair from your face. his other hand softly grabbing on your hips. "i sent luke and kieran in our place, along side mephisto." he placed another kiss on your upper neck.

"sy..." you uttered, pulling away slightly. you gave him an concerned look. "we should've-"

"do you trust me?" he asked, leaning closer towards you. your breathing hitched, as you bit your lip. you slowly nod. your eyes locked with his. "i can assure you they'll get all the information you need and more." sylus pauses for a moment, tracing his hand down your jaw. "will you allow me to be selfish, just this once? it's hard to resist when you look this stunning." he tilts your head, showcasing your neck to his lips. he effortlessly leads you back to the bed, gently sitting you down. his kisses gently trail down. your eyes flutter, catching a glimpse of his hand greedily wrapping around your thigh. "lay back, i'll make it all up to you kitten."

⌗ zayne⭑.ᐟ

your doorbell chimes as you fidget with your hair, trying to make sure you look your best. "i'll be right there!" you called out. you looked over at the mirror once more, double checking yourself and your outfit. you sigh and quickly grab your things. you couldn't tell if you were underdressed or overdressed. however you didn't want to keep zayne waiting. you open the door, giving zayne a soft smile as he glances over you. "i hope i'm adequately dressed.." you nervously let out, stepping out of your apartment.

"you look beautiful, no need to worry." zayne reassured, ushering you to the elevator. "besides. it's just a little holiday dinner party that akso throws." his words comforted you, until you actually arrived to the party.

"i thought you said this was a small party? why would we need a venue of this size?" you uttered, as the two of you were ushered in. you were assigned to sit along with other employees in the cardiology department.

"we wouldn't be able to have room for all the departments if it was any smaller. and they have a live band during dinner." he uttered. a chill ran down your body as you felt him lean towards you. he placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. he stopped once he found a group of some of his fellow collegues. he introduced you to a few of them who weren't familiar to you. before talking about various topics. you mostly listened, but contibuted here and there.

“ah! doctor zayne! can i steal you for a moment, i need a bit assistance with setting up the other tables for the dining room.” a waiter asked, halting in front of us. zayne gracefully accepted, leaving you with his fellow colleagues. you left them be in their own conversations while you people watched. you sipped on the champagne they were handing out, just being in your own world.

“do my eyes deceive me? is that you miss? it’s an honor to finally meet you!” you turned around, seeing a complete stranger in front of you. you looked behind you to see if you were mistaken but he was talking to you. he smiles as he approaches you closer.

“and you are?”

“i’m sorry, i forgot that this is our first time meeting. excuse my poor manners.” he chuckled. he introduced himself and his position at the hospital. “you’re quite the talk of the town. you’ve saved plenty of our patients. we can’t thank you enough.”

“oh. it’s nothing. just my job.” you smile politely. you felt your nerves rise. you didn’t anticipate this type of interaction. he continued to praise you and get closer. his hand reached for your arm as he invited you for a drink.

“she already has plans for tonight.” a voice sternly spoke from behind you. zayne pulled you closer to him, leaving the man’s hand still in the air. “excuse us.” he glared, walking pass the man. you just looked at him with wide eyes.

“wait… zayne? the party? why are we heading to the car?” you asked, turning your head back. he showed no sigh of stopping, dead set on his objective.

“we made an appearance. that’s satisfactory enough.” he uttered. “it wasn’t mandatory anyway. we were just being polite.” zayne’s attitude usually wasn’t this stormy. it was hard to read him, but it was clear that something was pestering him. you stayed silent until you reached the car.

“hey, did something happen when-“

“no. i just didn’t like the way he was looking at you. i should’ve stayed with you.” zayne interrupted, looking at you. again, your eyes widened. he was never like this. “ah… i apologize. i don’t know what came over me.” you turn your body so you could face him.

“were you jealous?” you softly smirked, leaning towards him. you cupped his face. “it was pretty attractive…” zayne raised his eyebrow. he placed his hand on your seat, causing you to lean back into your seat. he was practically towering over you now.

“was it now? did you enjoy it?” he smiled, sliding his hand down to your thigh. “because i have no intention of sharing you, sweetheart.” you breath deepened as you felt him lean against you. he quickly pulled the leaver of your seat, pushing it all the way down. he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, purposely missing. you whined, grabbing on his tie. “should i make sure every man knows you’re already mine?” he asked, whispering into your ear. you continuously nodded as his hand slowly made way to your hips.

⌗ xavier⭑.ᐟ

you glanced over at the mirror. you nervously tried adjusting your outfit. was this too much for an casual job party? you really couldn’t tell. you did yet another glance in the mirror before your doorbell rang. you let out a breath before heading to your front door. you opened it to see xavier. “oh! look who’s finally back!” you smiled, opening the door enough to let him in. he slowly walked inside, taking in your appearance.

“are you heading somewhere?” he asked, ignoring your statement. he leaned against the arm of your couch, with his full attention on you. your heart raced as you ran your finger along the edge of your dress.

“unicorns wanted to throw a small office party.” you replied, walking a bit closer. your face started feeling warm. you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or being flustered by xavier. “it’s a bit much, huh? the outfit? you know maybe i should change into something else.”

before you could step a single step, xavier pulled you into his arms. “you’re thinking too hard. you look lovely.” he replied, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. his arms rested around your waist. you stayed silent for a moment, indulging in the moment.

“xavier, i need to finish getting ready.” you softly say, slowly pushing his arms off. he readjusted his arms, resuming his grip.

“stay with me, for a moment. you have time right? i missed you.”

you let out a hum, as your thumb swept across his arm. you could spare a moment, surely. “fine, just a moment. but can we sit at least? standing here isn’t-“

with that xavier basically swung the two of you onto the couch. he cuddled against you, once again nuzzling into your neck. “was that really necessary?” you giggle, placing your phone onto the coffee table. xavier mumbled in response, placing a kiss on your neck. your body melted with a simple kiss. you slightly move away from xavier, now turning to face him. you cup his face with your hand, brushing your thumb along his cheek. he followed it up with a kiss, pulling you in. you deepened the kiss, feeling his hand grip your thigh. his hand trailed up to your hip.

“mm.. xavier.” you uttered, pulling away. “i got too ahead of myself. i really need to get ready now.” as you were about to get up, your phone rang. you swung your hand over, quickly grabbing it. “hello?”

“did you forget about your best friend tara?” a voice says over the line. “you’re still coming right? you weren’t answering my messages so i thought to call and check up.”

xavier slightly pouted, seeing your attention diverge from him. he pulled you closer, slowly placing kisses down your neck to your collarbone. you mouth at him to stop, your mind buzzing at the feel. he looked at you deviously, moving his hand to your lower back. now pressing himself against you. you let out a gasp, gripping your phone.

“are you okay?”

“oh. tara. i… i’m fine. i just.” you pause, trying to compose yourself. xaiver softly nips at your neck, really testing your ability to be quiet. “i just feel a bit u-under the weather. i’m sorry.”

“oh no! please get some rest! i hope you feel better soon! i’ll send some soup on your way.”

“ah… yes. i’ll see you.” you quickly replied, hanging up. you attempt to place your phone back on the table but completely miss. it didn’t matter, you mind was occupied on something completely different. “you’re such a little devil, you know that?” you gasp, raising your leg over his hip. he doesn’t even respond but goes in for another kiss, while holding onto the bottom of your thigh.

[kabuki-writes]

Aeternitas Nunc Est

chapter: 7 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: Your wedding night with Emperor Geta.

warning(s): heavy smut warning | partially non consent | Geta being Geta | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: Yes, i kinda back after it took me nearly an eternity before i was able to present this smut-heavy chapter. I am not super-experienced with writing smut, but i tried my best and hope you'll like it! :) Also big thanks to all the sweet beans, who sent me well-wishes over the last weeks!

word count: 2.8

You watched the lights of Rome in the dark veil of the night, which had layed itself upon the hills of the eternal city. The royal palace sat upon one of those sacred hills, watching over the gigantic capital of the growing Empire, just like the Greek believed that the Olymp watched over their lands. This palace here was not only the residence of the Emperors Geta and Caracalla anymore, it was your home now too. You'll never get back to your families home, to your parents. With this marriage now, you were no longer in the hands of your father, but became the property of Geta. He was able to do with you as he pleased, which included an order to kill you or your family in an instant. A sword that was over your head from the day that your father betrayed the Emperors - and somehow you needed to find a way for yourself in this dangerous situation now. No privilege would save you now, your mind and your wits were your only weapons left.

Empress. It still felt surreal that this was the way you were called now. The title felt heavy on your shoulders just as the golden tiara crown of Empress Poppea on your head, while you listened to the footsteps of your husband behind you, echoing on the clean marble floor of his personal chambers as he approached you. Just as it was tradition, he'd taken you away from the celebration at one point, so that you to were able to seal this bond off with the mandatory wedding night.

Geta's hand reached out to you, taking one of the strains of your hair between his fingers, while his eyes lingered on your form, your curves hugged by the fabric of your beautiful wedding dress. Even though the thought of simply ripping your gown off your body and taking you right here right now, was an urge in his mind, he knew quite well that he had to treat you different like he did with his concubines. He needed you to surrender yourself to him, so that he could shake off the feeling of desperation he had, when he thought of you. Geta wanted you as a whole, not just your body, but your mind as well - an Empress that served him and loved him like no one else did.

„You can hate me as much as you want now. It doesn't matter", he whispered, standing close to you so that you were able to feel his hot breath against your skin. "I could kill you and your family, everything is in my hands, depending on how you play your part." Your eyes went silently to him, but you were not backing off in any way. "Then why don't you do it right now, my Emperor? Kill me and we're done with it. This wedding celebration becomes nothing more than dust and ashes then."

It were those words in this very moment, when Geta understood that he wasn't able to get you through fear. It surprised him, his irritation clearly written on his face. No one ever dared to speak with him like this, no one ever defied him in any way and yet you did - without hesitation. And while it would usually anger him, somehow in your case, he found it intruiging. Yet it also reminded him about the fact that he didn't just married you because he was able to bind General Acacius to his and his brother's rule.

His hand reached out and he traced the details of your jawline, before he placed his thumb and index finger at your chin, the tall young man basically towering you as he stood right in front of your form.

"That would be too easy, don't you think? I just presented Rome its new Empress. But let me remind you of the fact that you're nothing without me now. When my brother and i fall, so do you, which is why your father should follow our hand instead of chasing a dream that is long forgotten."

His thumb slowly ran over your lips, touching them softly as if he couldn't wait to simply kiss them. You stood still, eyes locked with him, as if you waited for him to make the first move. Maybe he thought you were a sheep, something to easily pray on like all the other women he usually got with one snap of his fingers, but despite your situation, there was still pride in you - hope even. "My father serves no one but Rome", you answered, but suddenly Geta tightened the grip on your chin. "Then you should hope that his definition of Rome is right this time. But let us stop talking about him, shall we? This is our wedding night and we both waited enough."

With those words his hands went to the brooches that held your dress together. Even though your body tensed, you knew you couldn't do anything about him being the first man to lay hands on you as he was now your husband. His dark eyes lingered on you like a wolf ready to consume his prey, especially once your dress fell from your shoulders to the ground, revealing the beautiful curves of your body.

"From the very first day i saw you, i was sure that you were the incarnation of Venus...", he mumbled, while his pale fingers traced your collarbones, the curves of your now exposed breasts, down to your hip. He took his time with it, as if he was looking at a marble statue in front of him. "Perfection."

His words rang in your ears and although it was an honor to hear those words from the mouth of an Emperor, it felt different. Otherwise, you instantly thought about the fact that his attention, his desire for you could be something useful. And you should at least try to keep him pleased if you didn't want him to think back to your father's betrayal. So out of a sudden, your hands went up to cup his cheeks, while your eyes met his. For a second he even froze in place, surprised by your sudden action. From the day you knew that a marriage with Geta was inevitable, you had to befriend the thought of induldging into something you couldn't change in any way. It was better to adapt in order to survive, better do play your part in order to gain peace - and through this, you might find a way to change the course of history?

Maybe this idea in your mind fired your bravery as you swallowed your pride and placed your lips on his. It was almost a provocation, rather than a romantic form of showing your devotion. "I might not change so quickly into the woman you expect from me", you whispered against them, his lips curving up into a wide smirk, amused by your tone shift. "Why should i want this? I enjoy our little game way too much..."

His hands suddenly grabbed your neck at the sides as he hold you in place, forcing you into another kiss, a more intense one this time. He quickly broke your hesitation with a straight entry of his tongue into your mouth, invading it like a conquerer and pushing you into a dance. You couldn't step back, you couldn't turn your head away, his fingers, the cold metal of his rings, drilled themselves into the skin on your throat and neck, imprison you in this position. It felt like an eternity until he released his lips from yours, before he brought them to your ear. "If i'd wish to fuck a submissive servant, i simply fuck one of my concubines, or a slave. You however,...", he whispered with a devilish grin on his face, which sent shivers down your spine. "It brings me much more joy, when you fight me... although i know you'll come to the point of loving me soon enough. And i will wait for it".

He didn't waste any time as he grabbed your arms and pushed you down on the the four poster bed, which was prepared for you two. A sea of pillows and blankets under the sky of heavy velvet drapes. Geta pinned you down onto the mattress as he placed kisses all over your neck, marking you as his own by leaving dark bruises on your skin. His words weren't a lie, because every time you tried to push him away with the way your body moved, he only took it as a motivation to continue in an even more craving and demanding way. There was no reason for you to keep this up for long, as it was not changing anything. Slowly his one hand creeped between your legs before he touched your sancturary, which was never been owned by any man before. With a grin, he coated his fingers with the wetness on your entrance, as he felt how your body shivered under his touch. "So you are not devoted to me yet? Then why are you wet like the ocean down there?", Geta whispered teasingly into your ear, while he pushed two fingers into you, causing you to gasp.

In fact, Geta was no brute. He could come off as a cruel man, but he knew that you were untouched, so he took his time to enjoy your body, while also preparing you for what's to come. In a way, he didn't want to hurt you, even though it was hard for him to hold back. His lips found their way from your neck to your breasts, while he stimulated your clitoris slowly with his fingers. There was no doubt that Geta was experienced, no surprisingly given the horde of concubines he called his own. But none of those women ever gave him the same satisfaction as you did in this moment. The feeling of your soft, skin under his lips was electrifying for him, while he went down to place kisses on your chest and lick over one of your nipples before he teasingly bit it with his teeth.

You couldn't clench your teeth together forever, while you tried so desperately to resist. There was still a form of resistance in you, as you didn't want to surrender your body so easily to the touch of a man that had threatened your family and force you into marriage. But it got harder, when the first sounds of pleasure escaped your lips, which incited Geta to keep going. The way your nipples grew hard under the touch of his tongue and the sucking of his lips was a divine example for him how you would soon tear down your wall freely. Out of a sudden, he reached for your wrist and forced your hand to the hem of his robes. "Go on, take them off", his demanding whisper catched your ear and you couldn't explain why your body simply followed his orders. Maybe a twisted 'excitement' guided your hands as you shoved his toga off his shoulders, following his belt and his tunica, the heavy brocade fabrics falling down to the white marble grounds, before you were able to see his body for the very first time.

Geta was the embodiment of the dissolute Emperor, whose main role from his early childhood was to become the most powerful man in all of Rome. The days his father had forced him onto the battlefield where long over, he hated the mere thought of dirt, hard work and the smell of a camp of legionaries. His body was pale as if he'd never seen the sunlight, a reminder how priviledged the Emperor's truly were in difference to the rest of Rome. Even though he wasn't seen as a strong man, who could fight against a gladiator, his slender body was still decorated by light and defined muscles. All those parties, the drinking and whoring aside, Geta did care for his body out of the fear to end up ill like his damned father, who died pathetically in his bed. But the most present part for you now was Geta's hardened erection, ready to have his moment, pre-cum already glistening in the dim light of the oil lamps that surrounded you. Your heart pounded against your chest, almost as if it would rip out of your skin at any given moment - like a prey in front of a predator and yet you stared into his eyes in defiance.

Oh how he was turned on by this beautiful defiance in your eyes, the thinking that you will never surrender yourself to a God. It motivated him to turn those tables, to make you scream his name as he would fuck you to elysium. And with that in his mind, he grabbed your wrists and pinned you down, bringing his body between your legs as he spreaded them. His hips blocking your possibility to push your legs together again. His face went down to your face, as he forced a hungry and predatory kiss onto your lips, your tongue fighting against his, before your suddenly bit his lip during the battle of dominance. Geta's head shot back, his dark eyes staring at you before a laugh escaped his lips again. "I have a pretty bold wife, so hesitant!"

"Call me your wife, but i will never love you!", you quickly hissed back, showing him the hate that had built up in your stomach with every second passing, but he didn't care at all. His grin spoke more than a thousand words. Without a warning, he slowly pushed himself into you. He could've simply thrust in you, not caring for your pain in any way which was hard to avoid when a woman lost her virginity. But it was softer than he inicially intended to be. You wanted to curse him, but all you were able to get out of your mouth, when you felt how the stinging pain got replaced with a different feeling, something more carnal, was a moan through your clenched teeth. Geta didn't need to hold himself back, the dark moan that came from his lips only mirrowed the pleasure he felt, when a tight cunt held his hardened cock. "I don't need your love, it'll come sooner or later. What i want now is your body, surrendered to me... and trust me, you will stop fighting me". With those words, the young Emperor began to thrust into you, starting with slow movements, while his one hand was still holding his position beside your head, the other was holding your wrists above your head to avoid any form of resistance.

Not that you could resist anyways, there was never a way out from the day your wedding got announced. Seeing his lust shimmering in his dark eyes, which were focused on your face, watching how you tried so desperately to not show him any form of pleasure, it felt like a torture. Geta knew what he did, he knew how to treat your body to get his desired reaction. And once he felt your resistance cracking down under the deep thrusts, while your bodies were starting to move in unison, he loosened the grip around your wrists. "I might've made a mistake... you're not so bold as you think you are", he groaned, before your eyes shut open and you grabbed his shoulders. Not bold enough... His voice haunted your head. You didn't surrender, maybe it was time to set new rules. With a devilish grin, he wrapped his arm around your hip and switched the positions with one movement. You found yourself on his lap, but one of your hand already found its way in his short gingerblonde hair, which you grabbed and pulled, before your hip moved against his. In this position, you were the one to look down on him, while he was able to easily hit your deepest core with his dick. "Now you got claws?", he whispered, but you didn't fall for his provocation and continued to ride him with a newly fired self-esteem, that even surprised him. But it wasn't as if he was able to think more about it in this very moment, when his fingers pressed into the skin of your ass, while he hold you down, the moment he shot his load in you. The semen that may carry an heir into your womb, a legacy Geta wished for himself - and not for his brother. A lineage that started from him and him alone. It was a good timing as your body 'surrendered' as well, your moan filling this room with your shared high, the only true implementation of a marriage.

Now you were truly his wife. Married to an Emperor. An Empress.

____________________________

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[lostintransist]

Makarov's Chasm

I searched high and low (read for literal days) to find the post about Johnny meeting a girl that matches and exceeds his freak. If any of you know where to find that post please come to the front I would like to give credit to the OP for sparking this particular brain worm.

CW: Johnny post bullet to the brain, sexual content, masturbation, matching freaks, dodgy neighbor dynamics. If I miss anything major please LMK so I can update.

Johnny knew he would either get slapped or finally get her to snap. The woman he stalked admired from afar who lived in his building would humor him for a conversation about every third time they ran into each other. She laughed at a few of his jokes but otherwise held a small smile firm as they talked. He had seen a spark of interest at his muscles often enough to know that he wasn’t barking up the wrong tree.

She interested him. He wondered at the different sides of her he had seen. When Johnny ran into his neighbor once outside of the building she had prim and proper and buttoned up in a suit. Two weeks later she had a new tattoo peaking above the collar of her cropped T-shirt as she swung her legs from the counter in the basement laundry, scrolling away on her phone. She needed to be more cautious about her safety. Johnny would watch for her.

Leaving gifts for her became his favorite pastime: new perfumes he thought would compliment her scent, a gift card for a food delivery service, removing her garbage any time it sat in the hall as he passed on the way to one of his many therapies. The first time he snagged the bag on the way out he heard her squawks of confusion and alarm as he continued down the stairs. They settled over him like a hand running through his hair. The thought settled over him that if she commanded him he would heel like a well-trained work dog.

He knew he had been different…before. Less volatile, but maybe not less pushy. The him he remembered before Makarav tried to give him a third eye no longer existed. The team came by when they could, Simon more than the others. Always commented on him growing out his mohawk. They didn’t discuss the scar that trailed into nothing above his eyebrow. Johnny thought it might be guilt that drove his friend to his doorstep. Johnny dealt with the perceived changes in him by ignoring them in favor of chasing the only clarity he could find.

That brings him back to her, his nameless neighbor. She didn’t reciprocate any time he offered up his name, holding tight to that smile that gave nothing away. He watched her now from the entrance to the communal laundry, wondering if he could crawl inside what he would find inside her bones.

She wore a crop tee, no bra (thank god because when she stretched just so he could see a hint of skin that curved) a long skirt today, black with an assortment of swirling polka dots? Could those be polka dots if they didn’t sit in a uniform line? Johnny stared, eyes narrowing as he pondered on this question.

“If you’re going to stare at my ass John the least you could do is pay for the pleasure,” she stated dryly to the room.

Pulling out the exact change for the machine Johnny set the stack neatly on the machine.

“And how much for the pleasure of your company?”

She rolled her eyes at him as she deposited the coins into the machine.

“Doubt you make that much on your pension. Next question.”

He had never told her about his pension, or that he didn’t work. The flip in his mind switched.

Invade. Stepping close, to close for their status as neighbors.

Intimidate.

“Aye bonnie,” he lets the predator that never ceased pacing in his head peer out through his eyes. “You been diggin’ about me?”

That spark of interest had returned to her eyes, the hint of fear lurking behind stoked the pleasure center of his brain. Johnny thought of the monarchy as his body fought every lick of good sense not blown out of his skull to not get hard right now. Curving around her he settles his ear near her mouth, the slightest catch in her breath as he spoke next.

“Not nice to look in a man’s closet for skeletons,” he chastises.

“Scary times, John. Woman is liable to get murdered any time she opens a door.” Her words are suffused with breathlessness. “Needed to make sure you weren’t trying to remove me from the census or anything.”

The baby hairs on her neck rose as Johnny huffed out a small laugh.

“More in the habit of practicing to add to it,” he crooned.

“Not from what I could find Sargent MacTavish.”

The deep breath she takes brushes against him as he straightens. The only things left from his time serving that fit were his boots and his soldier’s face. He wore both now.

“Seems you found more than a skeleton when rifling through my closet,” his eyes drag from her narrowing eyes, the tips of her breasts peaking up to say hello, the skirt against her stomach and back up. “Be honest with me lass…”

She glances up and down him, as much as she can with only a breath between them.

“Couldn’t find much honestly, found your medical discharge though. And yes, you have a chance.” Then without stepping back, she slides both hands into her skirt, the fabric stretchy enough to allow for the invasion without revealing the secrets below. When her hands reappear she sets one on the washer for balance and pulls something off her ankle with the other.

Incinerate.

“How about this, MacTavish,” her tongue makes an appearance before she continues, “You let me watch you get off to these with my name on your tongue and maybe if you do a good enough job I’ll step on you if you ask please.”

Fucking hell.

Glancing to her hand Johnny knew there would be no saving himself from trudging up the stairs with a hard-on. Panties, likely still warm from her core, dangled off one finger. Nothing fancy, orange and cotton by the look.

The small beep of the machine and the rushing sound of water took him by surprise. His eyes hadn’t left the panties.

“You’ve got thirty-two minutes solider,” she tips her head to one side, the cat that ate the canary smirk broad across her lips. “You game?”

Snatching the orange offering he smashes it to his nose.

“Only if you give your name,” Johnny sucked in a breath through his nose. His erection pressed painfully against the zipper of his pants at the intoxicating scent of her musk.

“Niah.”

She didn’t say more, eyes boring into Johnny’s as the black of her pupil lipped at the color of her irises. Things moved quickly then. They were up the stairs, heavy breaths the only communication between them. Entering his apartment Johnny decided that the couch would be the best place to settle. The space between the TV and the couch left room for a chair from the kitchen and would let him stretch any way he might need.

Niah didn’t wait for an invitation to set a chair across from the couch. She sat primly, one leg resting over the other, fingers interlaced over her knee as the dangling foot bounced. Loosening his belt Johnny let his pants fall to his thighs and sat. Her panties came to his face clenched in his left hand.

Her foot stopped bouncing as she watched his hand curl around his shaft with a hiss. When he could focus his eyes Johnny had them on her. Niah’s chest expanded and retracted as her gaze focused on him. Giving an experimental downward stroke with his hand, he saw her breath stutter. He kept the panties on his nose, removing them for a breath or two to allow him to smell her sweet scent fresh to flood his nose anew.

“Tell me about yourself Niah, got any interesting facts?” Johnny set a smooth and slow pace, hand moving up and down.

Niah doesn’t respond. He stopped and started counting in his head. One. Two. Thr—

“Why did you stop?” Her voice is rough with want, bumping over his flesh and raising hair across his body.

“Asked you a question,” he stroked his hand down, “Do you need me to repeat it?”

She narrowed her eyes, gaze snapping between his head and his head.

“Yes.” She ground the word like a piece of ice between molars.

“Interesting fact about you,” Johnny picks his pace back up, waiting for the answer.

Her eyes have dialed back in on his moving hand, tongue making an appearance as she swallows.

“I have nipple piercings.”

Johnny’s back arched off the couch as his hand tightened down on his shaft at the base.

A stuttered gasp slid into his ear from across the room.

“Would pay a lot of money to see those,” he panted. His hand held a bit tighter as he stroked himself.

“I’m an atheist, but swear I saw God when the first one got pierced. Now though? If the wind brushes me wrong I wet my panties,” Niah slides a hand beneath her crop top, fingers tenting her shirt.

Groaning into her panties his eyes drifted shut. The mental image of nipple piercings, of tugging them between his lips, of fiddling with them in passing ratcheted up his arousal.

“Talk to me Niah,” he moaned her name, unable to keep the pleasure from spilling out and over his tongue.

“About what John?”

“Johnny. Call me Johnny.”

His name, the gift from his teammate, the man who pulled him back to life, fell from her lips. He must have reacted in a way she enjoyed because with her scent lilting over his face, panties still pressed tight to his own, and her sweet voice in his ear repeating his name, Johnny couldn’t prevent himself from tripping over the edge into his orgasm.

Clarity that brought him closer to who he had been before rolled through him on the waves of his orgasm. He hadn’t found a bridge between the now and then, this was as close as he could get. A waving distance to the man he had been, the chasm of Makarov’s bullet between them.

His spend landed in spurts on his shirt, spreading across the fabric covering his stomach. Drifting closer to reality Johnny let his hand fall from his face and his grip on his shaft loosen. Sucking in air like he surfaced from the depths Johnny settled his eyes on Niah.

Both hands worked themselves under her shirt now, knees sliding past the other as she searched for friction. Her head, thrown back in pleasure, let him gaze upon the stretch of her neck. Carefully rolling the bottom of his shirt to hold his semon Johnny removed his shirt. Setting it aside he worked his pants back up leaving the belt undone.

When Johnny knelt before Niah, mind aching for more, he held an ankle in each hand, thumbs sweeping over her soft skin.

“What do you ask for a taste?” Yearning for an answer.

Niah pulled herself forward by the nipple piercings until her nose brushed his.

“Beg.”

Sergeant MacTavish would have balked. Broken Johnny learned the language of groveling at his neighbor’s knee.

@lialucis I finally finished it.

[blushsturns]

bf!chris x plus size!reader

title: bubble bath

pairing: bf!chris x plus size! reader

w/c: 2230

description: you have a long and tiring day so chris decides to run a bubble bath for the both of you.

your body was aching. literally aching. you were on your feet all day at work and it was much busier than usual. annoying, rude customers, your staff members who make you do all the work, your boss who is incredibly ungrateful and selfish and never shows up. everything always falls on your shoulders and you’re tired. so fucking tired.

the second you get home from work, you drop your purse on the nearest countertop and walk over to your bedroom, slumping yourself over onto the bed next to your boyfriend chris as he laid there watching tiktoks. he immediately pulled his phone away and set it on the nightstand as he noticed you were home and you didn’t look happy at all.

“baby? what’s wrong?” he immediately slid over to you, his hand finding your back and rubbing it in smooth, slow circles against the fabric of your shirt.

you felt awful. your body ached from head to toe. you turned your head over to look at him as you laid on your stomach, a slight pout on your face. “work is killin’ me, babe. i can’t do it anymore. i’m so tired.” even your voice was tired as you strained to even get those simple words out.

chris didn’t like seeing you so upset. he never wanted you hurt, even if that meant having a bad day at work. he was an amazing boyfriend and you were so lucky to have him. you both moved in together 6 months ago and since then, your relationship has been so much more balanced and easy going.

it broke his heart to see you like this. he continued to run his hand up and down your back as he sat next to you on the bed, a frown on his face. “oh my love, m’so sorry. you kick ass everyday and they don’t deserve you.”

he always knew what to do and say to make you feel better. your face softened as you hear his words, looking over at him with tired eyes. it's not that you were sleepy tired, you were just simply exhausted from life lately. your self esteem has also not been doing the best lately. all your life you had to deal with being the ‘plus size girl’ and having to figure out how to be comfortable in your own skin. luckily, chris was an amazing, supportive boyfriend who loved you despite any flaws you claimed to have and made you feel beautiful inside and out. he cherished your body like it was made just for him.

“missed you.” was all you could manage to speak out, your eyes never leaving his.

“missed you too, princess. you know what you do deserve? a nice ass bubble bath. you can sit, relax, and unwind. i can start it for you. what do you say?”

his words excited you, your frown immediately disappearing and turning into a small smile. chris was so good to you and even when you felt like you didn’t deserve it, he reminded you and showed you that you did. you nodded your head, slowly moving your body so that you could sit right next to him on the bed, your hand immediately finding his. “please? but only under one condition.”

he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. his eyebrow raised up in curiosity as he stared at you when you asked him the question. “what is it?”

your cheeks turned a dark shade of pink before you started to speak again. “can you join me in the bath? please. need a massage too.” you don’t know why you got nervous and flustered when you mentioned things like this. a bubble bath together was an intimate experience, but you didn’t have to have sex. you both have had sex before, even if it took you some time to fully feel comfortable with him seeing your body underneath your clothes.

chris worshiped your body and always knew what to do and say to make you feel good and special. like you were the most beautiful girl in the world. he loved every curve, every dimple, every stretch mark. you were his and he was so grateful.

“of course i can, baby. let me get it going for you, okay?” he gave your hand one more squeeze before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “you never even have to ask. of course i’d join you and give my girl the most amazing massage of her life.”

your cheeks continued to flush as he spoke, nodding your head as he got up from the bed. “thank you, baby. you’re so good to me.”

he got up off the bed with a grin on his face. before he entered the bathroom that was in your shared bedroom, he flashed you a playful wink which made your stomach twinge with butterflies. you began to pull your clothes off your aching body piece by piece until you were naked. you looked over at the full size mirror once you were fully nude, taking in a deep breath as you scan over your own body. chris loved your body, he fucking worshiped it. you still had to learn to love your body, but with the help of chris and how good he was to you, you were slowly getting there day by day. you grabbed the hair tie from your wrist and threw your hair up into a messy bun. you took one more good look at yourself, scanning over your curvy figure, your perfect breasts, you’re stomach that chris loved to kiss so much. you were coming to terms with the fact that maybe you didn’t mind being a plus size woman. maybe it was just part of who you were.

“babe! all ready!” chris shouted from the bathroom. you immediately pulled away from the mirror to join him. once you stepped inside, your eyes widened in surprise. the light was turned off, but a couple candles were lit and placed by the bathtub that gave just the right amount of light. the bathtub was filled with bubbles. chris stood there, fully naked with a wide grin on his face once he noticed your presence and you taking it all in. “surprise! all for you, baby.”

you suddenly felt like you were on the brink of tears. no one has ever done anything like this for you before. you always dreamt of having a love like this, but didn’t truly know what love was like until you met him and he changed your life for the better. “chris..” you blinked back a couple tears as you started speaking, although you weren’t sure what to say. it was safe to say chris had made you speechless. “all of this? for me?”

he let out a soft chuckle and immediately grabbed your naked body to pull you close to him. your bare chests now pressed up against each other’s. he shook his head at your words, placing his index and middle finger underneath your chin to lift your head up so your eyes can lock together. love and adoration filled his gaze, his other hand resting onto your bare lower back. “for us, but mainly for you. i’ll get in first.” he flashed you a huge grin, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and stepping into the water.

he got himself settled into the bathtub, his back leaning against the tile wall as he looked up at you and motioned for you to come join him. you flashed him a small smile before immediately joining him into the bathtub. the bubbles surrounding your skin and the water was delicately warm and comfortable. you instantly let out a satisfied sigh, your body fitting in between chris’ legs. your back rest against his chest as you leaned your head back to look up at him with an adoring smile on her face.

“thank you so much, baby. i defintely needed this. and you.”

chris grinned widely, nodding his head at your words. he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, both of your lips lingering against one another’s for a moment as he whispered, “anything for my girl. now, let me give you a nice massage, hm?”

you instantly nodded your head, your body comfortably sitting in front of him. your hair was still tucked up on top of your head in the messy bun.

once his hands were on your skin you immediately shudder against his touch. his hands felt amazing. you definitely needed this. your eyes fluttered closed, your head tilting forwards as you your body relaxes to his touch. “thank you baby.” you say softly as you let out a content sigh.

he continues to massage your back before moving his hand down lower to your tailbone, pressing firmly into your tight skin with his thumbs which causes a soft wail to leave your lips at the feeling. you didn’t realize how much you needed this until chris brought up the idea. he kneaded your skin with his hands, your head tilted onto your shoulder as he continued his movements. “mm, anything for you, baby.” he pressed a couple kisses to the back of your shoulder, a shudder running down your spine at the feeling of his lips against your skin.

the warm water made you relax, but it was chris’ touch that made it all so much better. you were incredibly lucky to have such an amazing boyfriend like him who always looked out for you and knew how to treat you and make you feel special.

you stretched out a bit more so that your back was now pressing against his chest as you adjusted your body so you can lay against him. he moved his hand from your back to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze, his fingers dancing along your skin. his hands ran up and down your hips, a soft whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of his skin against your curves. “so fuckin’ curvy, ma. just the way i like it.” he breathed out, his hands squeezing your hips a bit harder, causing another whimper to leave your lips.

he made you feel absolutely beautiful in every way and you felt even more special when his hardened cock pressed up against you as you laid against him. “chris..” you whined out, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “really?” you looked back at him with an amused expression on your face. you loved knowing he got turned on so easily by you. just from touching you, kissing you, or simply looking at you, he was a goner.

he let out a soft chuckle, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to run his hands up and down your soapy skin, his hand moving over to your tummy. you felt the most insecure about your stomach; how it always looks bloated and hangs out of your pants, especially when you sat and you had the faintest lines of stretch marks that covered your tummy and hips. he kissed every single inch of you every time he saw you naked, reminding you how beautiful and sexy you were. it always made you so flustered, no matter how often he did it.

“can’t help it, baby. you’re so pretty.” he pressed a couple more kisses to your shoulder, his hand caressing your stomach in smooth, slow circles.

you sighed contently against him as he spread his legs further so you can continue to lay comfortably in between his legs. your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink from his words and from feeling his hardness against you. it always surprised you and made you feel so special when he’d get so easily hard because of you.

“i love you.” you whispered to him as you rested your head onto his chest, looking up at him with a gentle smile on your face.

“and i love you.” he whispered back, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them.

you both spent a decent amount of time in the bath before you were starting to get chilly and told chris you wanted to lay down and cuddle with him to relax and maybe watch some movies before you went to bed for the night.

when you got out of the bath, you grabbed a towel and walked over to the bedroom. chris cleaned up the bathroom and blew out the candles before walking back into your bedroom.

chris saw you getting changed into your pajamas, your shorts already on your body and when you were about to put on your shirt, chris wrapped his arms around you from behind and grabbed the shorts from your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your shoulder. his hands rested on your stomach, his hardened cock was pressing up against your ass which caused you to let out a soft gasp.

“who said you were allowed to put on clothes, hm? no sense in puttin' them on when they’re comin' right off anyway.”

taglist:

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @sturniololuv08 @xclusivedesires

a/n: thank you for reading! i’m not sure how i feel about this one, but i’ve been writing it for a couple days and just wanted to finish it so i can post it. if you have any ideas for me that you want me to write about, or just wanna talk, you can send me a message!

click here to be added to the taglist

-nessa ღ

[slut4christopherr]

— WE ARE OVER —

C.S

warnings: crying, swearing, breakup, arguing, yelling, cheating

if i missed any, lmk!!

summary: everything seemed perfect, until that one night you and chris break up after 2 years due to him cheating, read to find out more

a/n: writing this from experience/what happened to me with my ex, i have gotten away from him & i have a new bf now of 1 and a half years!! have an amazing time reading, any requests are taken!!

not proofread!!

chris talking = orange

matt talking = blue

nick talking = purple

you talking = white

me and chris were lay in bed, watching tiktoks, his arm lazily draped around my shoulder, im wearing his fresh love hoodie which hadn’t been released yet.

i felt happy, my head nuzzling into his shoulder as his thumb scrolls to another video, making us laugh as it was matt as a child

suddenly.

his phone buzzes, i look up at the notification, seeing a message pop up

sophia🩷

i had so much fun last night, literally can’t walk lol!! x

my heart stopped, fell to my stomach and rotted in that moment

my ears rang, a high pitched sound, my stomach felt sick

chris instantly looks at me, throwing his phone against the mattress

“babe, let me explain-“

i refuse to make eye contact with him and stand up

chris reaches to grab my wrist to pull me back down but i pull my arm away from him

“don’t fucking touch me christopher.”

his face drops, we usually only call eachother nicknames like

“baby, babe, love, ma”

but him being called his full name made his heart drop even lower than it was

i walk out of the room, seeing nick and matt and nick sat on the couch in the living room, watching a movie

chris walks out after me, leaning against the wall

nick and matt look up at me, then chris, then back to me

“hey, you okay?”

i just stand there, skin pale, tears swelling up my eyes

“babe-“

i turn to look at him

“shut the FUCK UP!”

my voice echoed off the walls, the tears streaming down my cheeks as i look away from chris and sit on the arm of the couch, feeling physically sick

matt looks at chris

“what the fuck did you do bro”

chris stammers

“i-i- babe, please, please hear me out.”

matt repeats himself, his voice louder than before

“what the fuck did you do chris?!”

i refuse to make eye contact with chris, looking at the floor

i say with a low voice, barely above a whisper

“explain yourself.”

chris sighs

“look, it was a mistake, we were drunk, i only want you baby-“

chris tries to grab my hand but i push him away

“oh so ‘drunk’ is your excuse?! newsflash!! that’s the oldest trick in the book chris! you wanted to fuck her, just because i didn’t want to because i had been working all fucking-“

my words get cut off as more emotions hit me, tears staining my cheeks & neck

matt and nicks faces drop, realising what had happened

“dude, that’s fucked”

chris rolls his eyes

“will you shut the fuck up matt?!”

matt throws back at him

“no i won’t ’shut the fuck up’ because you know she loves you, with EVERYTHING!!”

his voice raises higher and higher

“and you go and fuck another bitch like she was nothing to you??! i’m fucking disappointed”

i look at chris

“we are fucking over chris. OVER!”

chris’ face has guilt and regret written all over it

“baby, you don’t mean tha-“

i cut him off

“oh yeah i do”

matt grabs my shoulder in a comforting way

chris holds back tears

“so you wanna fucking break up? i’m sorry you didn’t touch me when i was horny as fuck, my dick was sore!!!”

i scoff

“you could of jerked off chris?! not go fuck a whole other girl?! what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

matt chimes in

“Chris ive heard you jacking it a few times, what’s the problem with yesterday?”

i cut matt off

“also, thought you were drunk? or was you feeling like that much of a fucking whore?!”

chris stares at me

“look, it’s not like your any better?! your never here your always working at that shitty job?! what do you expect me to do! you come home, sleep, i wake up, your at work?!”

anger bubbles up inside of me, is he fucking kidding?!

“to put food on the fucking table chris?! without me working you’d be on your ass!”

chris grabs his shoes, phone and car keys

“just don’t talk to me.”

that was the last straw

“oh so your the one leaving now? proving you don’t give a fuck!!”

chris slips his shoe on and sighs

“your the only person i truly care about y/n”

his voice was low and shaky

i didn’t even realise he’d said that because of how quiet he’d said it

“if your gonna walk out of my life, i’d rather you do it, right fucking now, and go fuck sophia whilst your at it”

chris’ emotions pour over him, tears streaming down his face

“have an amazing life y/n, i hope you find the right guy for you one day, clearly, i’m not him”

he walks out of the door, slamming it behind him

no more late night tiktoks

no more fresh love hoodies

no more sweet kisses

no more bubble baths with him

no more chris

a/n: this was litreally made in 10 mins i’m so sorry it’s so bad but i hate reliving that day 😭 but sophia if ur seeing this n you know who tf u are, his dick wasn’t enough pleasure anyway, my bf now has an amazing cock, anyways , enough trauma dumping, hope you guys enjoyed!!

with lots of love & fat boobs — mia!!❄️

taglist: @mattscoquette @mattsmedusa @mattsstarlet @mattslipgloss @mattsmyhomie @chr1sslvtt @christmastreecake @chrisprettybaby @chrissturniolodailysluts @chrisweetheart @chris-hallelujah @sturnshood @sturniololuv08 @sturniolosweets-deactivated2025 @sturniolospumpkin @mattsbendystraws

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 2!

another week, another fic rec list, and another request to help us find this fic! please have a look and see if you recognise it <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a life for a life | icewhisper | 7.7k | T

The first time Ravi met Evan Buckley, he never got his name. He only knew him as the man who pulled him onto a firetruck during a tsunami before he jumped back into the water after his son. Five years later, in a collapsed building, it’s Buck who needs saving and Ravi gets a chance to return the favor. i love love love the idea of buck and ravi crossing paths during the tsunami, and this characterisation of ravi is brilliant!! oh how i miss the people's princess..

forever goodbye | withoutthetiger/@rewritetheending | 1.3k | GA

Everything has been blurry for a while, and Eddie begins to wonder whether he’ll ever see clearly again. It’s the tears, of course, ones he refuses to let fall, mostly because he thinks he deserves to carry the weight of them instead of giving himself any relief from the pain. He’d brought the tears with him to the front door when he’d mumbled one final goodbye to Ana, then blinked them away just long enough to watch Christopher set himself up with a puzzle at the coffee table. Now he’s back in the kitchen, barely able to focus on the mess around him even though it’s impossible to ignore. love is stored in (cleaning up the) kitchen <3 the pining is so good!!

he's thinkin' about me | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 4.6k | T

In which Buck wakes up with the ability/curse to hear everyone's thoughts around him. Which might be ok, if it weren't for Eddie suddenly calling him baby, but only when he doesn't speak. oh i LOVE a good mind reading fic and this hit the spot perfectly <3 petty bitch eddie my most beloved

i let my fingers do the walking | lizzybizzyzzz/@lizzybizzyzzz | 7.3k | E

Buck is good at jerking off. It’s a self-proclamation, obviously. There is no right or wrong way to get off. Buck just thinks, if there were to be a Masturbation Olympics one day, he would end up with the gold medal gleaming over his chest by the end of the tournament. this is hot and fluffy and funny and just the ultimate fic, really. so good!!

if you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 1.8k | T

Now they’ve arrived at house number five, and Eddie finally snaps. “What is your problem?” He turns to Buck suddenly, interrupting Mariana mid-answer. She gapes at them, startled into silence, but neither of them are looking at her, so she takes a second to compose herself while watching Buck’s eyes go wide and his body twist towards Eddie. “What?” “You’re being difficult.” “No I’m not,” Buck argues immediately. outsider pov!! thinking about the poor poor real estate agent who has to deal with buckandeddie brings me joy and this fic is exactly why <3 such a good time! for me, that is. maybe not for mariana.

i'll meet you by the river, see how time it flows | fruitsdoesnotknow/@fruitsdontknow | 8.3k | T

Shoulders tense, Bobby sighs. “Alright, there’s no easy way to say this,” Bobby begins, and Buck immediately leans forward, face concerned as his hand shoots up. “No, Buck, I’m not dying or retiring,” Bobby reassures him, and Buck slowly lowers his hand. “We’ve been nominated by the Fire Chief to help support with a request from a documentary crew. All we know so far is they’re looking into how a regular fire station operates on a day-to-day basis, and they’ll be following us for a few weeks.” Bobby claps his hands together. “Questions?” Six hands all at once go up. “Let me rephrase, questions related to your duties as a firefighter?” Five hands go down. “Yes, Ravi?” “Does this mean we should get a station dog?” blanket rec for an author whose work i've been loving this week!! this was one of my favourites and an immediate bookmark. it made me laugh out loud several times and has the most delightful firefam dynamics <3 cannot recommend enough!

i've been starving myself, carving (skin until my bones are showing) | prettyboybuckley/@prettyboybuckley | 12.1k | M

Eddie is fine. He's absolutely, totally fine.  And if sometimes he doesn't eat, why would that be a problem? He's got a kid to feed and not enough money, and there is no way he's going to grovel to his parents so they'll help him. He doesn't need help, not theirs at least.  definitely heed the tags but this fic is brilliantly written and has such wonderful eddie characterisation <3

it comes and goes in waves | tabbytabbytabby/@tabbytabbytabby | 1.6k | T

Buck never had a problem with the dark. Then the tsunami happened, and somewhere along the way, the dark started to be something Buck feared. And with the dark, came the nightmares. the emotional hurt/comfort is so so good here!! angsty and gentle and soft and just <3

kept on swimming | EiraLloyd/@unlifeira | 12.1k | M

He just needs someone to know that he tried. He needs someone to acknowledge that—that he did everything he could, and—and he tried. He might’ve failed, but he tried. He tried, he tried, he tried, he tried— Eddie swallows and asks, “How many times?” Buck stares. He lived through it once; that’s normal. He lived through it twice; maybe a déjà-vu or a hallucination of some kind or even a premonition. But three times— It has to be a time loop. Surely. mind the tags but holy shit this is so so good. beautifully written, angsty but with a hopeful ending, i absolutely devoured it <3

lay your hands on me | vampirebuckley/@vampirebuckleyy | 2.7k | E

“There, perfectly relaxed, happy? Now will you drop it?” “Nope, I don’t believe you,” Buck says, slapping his hands on his knees and picking himself up off the couch. “C’mon, up,” Buck waves a hand at Eddie, reaching to grab his hand. Eddie lets his hand be tugged, but plants himself further in the couch. “What are you doing, Buck? I thought you wanted to watch this,” Eddie groans, looking up at Buck and the much too pleased look on his face. “I, am going to give you a massage,” Buck says through a grin, yanking Eddie off the couch despite his protests. so so good!! massage leading to sex is one of my favourite pipelines and i love how this depicts buck and eddie!!

new sensations | lamardeuse/@lamardeuse | 4.3k | E

“All I know is you're getting me worked up and you're going to leave me hanging – again,” Eddie growled, nipping at Buck's earlobe and soothing it with a tongue Buck had learned was extremely talented, and okay, he thought, maybe he could – no, no, he couldn't. hot and cute and so perfectly buddie <3 this was a reread and it gets better every time!

your body is my temple, let me lay at your altar | Kwills91/@kwills91 | 4.7k | E

Eddie is no stranger to feeling self-conscious. When he was a teenager, his body had grown at weird rates. Three months of having feet too big for his body had made him clumsy, people passing comments about clown shoes. Six months of his arms and legs being just a touch too long, staring at himself in the mirror feeling like a marionette puppet. That phase where his hair grew out instead of down and his nerdy younger sister had snorted and told him looked like a hobbit–it didn’t help that there had been some crossover between that and the big feet phase. It’s been so long, Eddie had forgotten what it felt like–the shame that comes with looking in the mirror and wishing a different reflection were staring back. He’s happy, is the thing. He’s happy, so he’s not supposed to be feeling like this. loved reading this so very much <3 body worship buddie hits so hard in the best way possible, and this is a perfect example of that!

[aleniaaa]

"Plan B" Rafe Cameron x JohnB's!sister!reader SMUT

summary: Maya Routledge finds herself stuck with Rafe Cameron in Barbados.

warnings: age gap (18-21), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), guns, violence

a/n: hey y'all bit longer than my usual fanfics; please repost if you like it :** kisses on y'all's foreheads

words: 3,9k

After being transported from the so-called "Poguelandia" to Barbados, I decided to make a run for it. I had to get away from the Pogues. Even though I was a Pogue by blood, I never truly felt like I belonged with them. My dad didn’t care much for me or my brother. He was always obsessed with finding treasure, chasing after some fairytale fantasy. When I saw those same legends starting to get into my big brother’s head, I realized how much he had changed. His obsession, along with his girlfriend Sarah, made me think that maybe they had both lost it.

Escaping from them wasn’t too difficult, not with the chaos and noise of the city. I found myself walking through a market, trying to steal some fruit—honestly, it was the only skill I’d ever learned from my dad. But out of nowhere, someone grabbed me from behind. I felt a hand clamp over my mouth, silencing any attempt to scream. I was helpless, and no one came to help. The more I struggled, the more I felt myself slipping away. Soon, everything went black, and I drifted off into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I was no longer in the market. I was in a strange, well-furnished room. But what struck me first were my clothes—I was now wearing a beautiful red silk dress. Panic surged through me. What was going on? Anxiety gripped me, and I froze in fear, unable to move. My mind raced, but all I could think was, "This isn’t how I’m going to die." After a moment of sheer shock, I forced myself to stand and rushed to the door. I yanked on the handle with all my strength, shouting, "HELP! PLEASE LET ME OUT!" But there was no response.

I went to the window, desperate for any hint of what was going on. All I saw were fields stretching for miles, nothing but endless grass in every direction. I collapsed onto the bed, trying to think of how I could escape this place. As if on cue, the door opened. A man, armed and speaking in a foreign tongue, gestured for me to follow him. I had no choice but to obey, my legs trembling beneath me.

He led me to a large living room where I was confronted by a man who looked like he belonged in charge. "Hello, Miss Routledge," he said, his voice smooth and controlled. "I apologize for the inconvenience of your trip here, but the circumstances left me no choice. Please, sit." He gestured toward a chair in front of him, and as I hesitated, he introduced himself. "I am Mr. Singh."

I glared at him. "What do you want from me? Let me go!" My voice trembled, but I couldn’t hold back the anger.

"You see, Miss Routledge," he began, his Caribbean accent thick and authoritative, "you have something that belongs to me. And I would greatly appreciate it if you returned it to me."

I shook my head, confused. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have anything."

He smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Now, Miss Routledge, I know you’re lying. And do you know what I despise the most? Lies." His tone grew colder.

"I’m not lying! I don’t know what you’re talking about!" I protested, my heart pounding in my chest.

"The diary," he said, his voice sharp. "I know you have it—or at least, you’ve had it. Where is it?"

It clicked. He was talking about that treasure-related diary John B had been obsessing over. I wasn’t interested in any of that. "Look, if it’s about that nonexistent treasure, I don’t have it, and I don’t want it. You should talk to my brother, not me. He’s the one obsessed with it," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Very well," Singh said with a cold smile. "Take her away."

Before I could react, two guards grabbed my arms, dragging me aggressively toward the door. I kicked and screamed, trying to break free, but it was no use. As they pulled me away, I heard Singh's voice behind me, calm and sinister. "Even if you don’t have what I’m looking for, maybe you’ll still serve as bait."

The door slammed shut, and my heart sank. I had no idea what was coming next.

I was lying on the bed, trying to process everything, when I heard the door creak open. To my surprise, the last person I expected to see walked in: Rafe fucking Cameron, dressed in a sharp suit. He froze when he saw me.

"What are you doing here, May? Are you trying to ruin my deal?" he snapped. I blinked, momentarily thrown off guard. Rafe was the only one who ever called me "May"—everyone else always called me Maya. For some reason, he liked to shorten it. There was something in his tone—anger, annoyance—something that made me uneasy.

"What the hell are you talking about? I’m literally kidnapped here!" I shot back, my confusion rising. "How the hell did you even get here?"

He looked at me like I was the crazy one. "What do you mean you’re kidnapped? I’m here to close the sale of the cross." His voice was calm, but I could tell he wasn’t lying. My suspicion that he was behind this situation faded a bit.

"Yeah, some pilot found us on a deserted island, and it turns out he’s mixed up in all this. He wants some diary my brother has and is trying to use me as bait," I explained quickly.

Rafe sighed, rubbing his face. "Jesus Christ, you Pogues always try to get your hands on things that don’t belong to you."

I felt my anger rise. "Hey, I’m not like them, okay? I didn’t ask for this, and I don’t give a damn about any treasure! So don’t talk to me like that."

He took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. "Alright, listen. I’ll talk to this guy and try to make a deal. You stay here, and be good. Afterward, I’ll figure out a way to get us out of here. Sound good?" He pointed at my face, making sure I was listening.

I nodded, and he left. Rafe was gone for about 25 minutes, meeting with the man. When he returned, I could see the worry in his eyes.

"And?" I asked, eager for answers.

"Ugh, we’re in deep shit," Rafe muttered. "He thinks I’m after the treasure, too, and offered me some shady deal for the cross."

"What about getting us out of here?" I pressed.

"Yeah, Plan B," he said, looking serious. "They won’t let us go. We’ll have to break out or something. Listen carefully. There’s one guard outside the door. You need to get his attention, and I’ll hide. Once he comes in, I’ll grab his gun and take him out, alright?"

I nodded, feeling the tension building. Minutes later, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Help!"

The guard didn’t waste any time. When I went silent, the door opened, and he stepped inside, gun pointed toward me. "Hey, what’s going on here?" he called out, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

That’s when Rafe sprang into action. He lunged at the guard, landed a punch to his face, grabbed the gun, and then slammed his elbow into the guard’s stomach for good measure. The guy went down hard, unconscious before he could even react.

"Okay, follow me." Rafe led the way, taking out a guard on the way out. I placed my hand on his back, trying my best to stay calm despite the fear bubbling inside me.

"I’ve got a boat at the port that can take us to OBX," Rafe said, glancing back at me. "I can drop you off anywhere you need." His offer was a surprising shift from the usual cold, distant Rafe I knew. It was a kind gesture, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of something warmer.

We climbed into a truck loaded with hay, both of us relieved to have escaped. Rafe leaned back against the wall of the vehicle, a small smile creeping onto his face as he glanced at me.

"You know, May, I never took you for a Pogue. You're better than them," he said casually.

"Thanks," I replied, unsure of how to react. The truth was, Rafe had always been my secret crush, the one no one knew about. But because he was a Kook and I was a pouge, I never let myself think of anything more.

Hearing him say that, though, made me feel almost equal to him for a moment. It was nice, in a way, to know he saw me differently.

When we arrived at the port and boarded his yacht, Rafe was busy preparing it for the journey ahead. I watched him for a moment, and after a while, he noticed my gaze.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Like what?" I replied, a little taken aback.

"Doesn't matter," he said with a chuckle.

As the yacht sailed, the quiet between us stretched until Rafe broke it with some small talk. "So, how's school? You're a senior, right?"

"Yeah, it's alright," I answered. Rafe was 21, and I was almost 18, so he was already done with school.

"You want something to drink? It's gonna take us about two days to get to OBX," he offered.

"Sure, what do you have?" I asked.

"Whiskey, wine, beer, or water," he said, glancing at me.

"Beer would be great, thanks," I replied.

He handed me a cold beer, and as the sun started to set, we spent the evening talking. After a few beers, I started feeling the effects, my head spinning just a little. Rafe seemed to be handling it better, even though he had been drinking too.

"You know, I had a pretty big crush on you back in the day," I said, laughing lightly.

"Really?" he asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah, I used to look for you around school," I admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

A moment of silence passed, and then Rafe turned toward me, his expression softening. "I didn't know that," he said quietly. He leaned in a little, and for a second, the world seemed to slow. He looked into my eyes and kissed me. Lightly grabbing my face, deepening the kiss.

I reached my hand to unbuckle his belt. My underwear was soaking and I was ready to take him. Before that I had slept with my now-ex-boyfriend but he didn't make me feel so horny as Rafe in that moment. I don't know if the alcohol made me this confident but I sat on top of him, straddling his crotch. I felt his arousal on my ass. I continued kissing him and his hands were exploring every inch of my body.

Slightly squeezing my boobs, pinching my nipples through the dress, stroking my back. I unbuttoned his cotton shirt and started placing small pecks on his refined abs. "Wait" he suddenly stopped me "I didn't bring condoms" he looked at me with concern.

"Fuck it, I don't care." I said quickly. I was too aroused to stop now. His hand slid under my dress and found my panties. One of his fingers slid inside me and I let out a small moan. With his fingers pumping inside me I took his pants off massaging him through black pair of boxers. When he felt I was close to orgasm Rafe withdrew his hand and pulled me in for a kiss. Meanwhile I took out his cock and palmed it. He was moaning. "Shit, May" I lined his dick with my entrance and slowly lowered myself on it.

I grabbed his torso to steady myself and when I adjusted to his large size I started rocking my hips back and forth. "Ohh Rafe You feel so good." I was breathing heavy and my vision started to blur from pleasure. "You make me feel so good Rafe. If I knew your dick was so good I'd make a move sooner." I felt his finger circle my clit.

I picked up the pace and started moving my hips faster. "Fuck May I'm so close right now." He painted and I felt his dick twitch inside my coochie. I squeezed him and cummed, leaving a white ring around him.

Soon after he also came and I felt his warm release. I rode out the last bits of his orgasm and got off him, laying next to him trying to steady my breath and heartbeat.

"Damn John B would freak out if he knew I fucked his little sister." he smiled with his eyes closed. I playfully smacked his chest laughing with him.

[fxndxm-axg]

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

MODERN AU Arthur Morgan NSFW Headcanon’s

(GN!POV, mostly)

I thought I’d do Low!Honor next, but I got inspired and did MAU because oh my god would he be the perfect lover in this godforsaken hellscape that is dating and sex nowadays. I also renamed this post to NSFW instead of “sex” so if can reach more aspects of the sexual experience outside of just oral/anal/penetrative sex, etc. Also isn't it crazy just how realistic this photo I took of Arthur is holy shit-

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Doesn’t watch porn often nor as the hankering to. But in those really lonely moments, especially after a long, stressful day at work (definitely some blue-collar job), he knows masturbating is a decent source to help relieve some of his stress. His preference of porn is relatively simple, opting for soft core genres, not enjoying the roughness imposed upon especially women in the videos. His favorites genres include POV cowgirl-position videos for immersion, amateur lesbian as he appreciates the softness many of the women have towards one another, and mutual masturbation. He does feel ashamed after watching porn, though, wondering how he’d stoop so low to his own desire to do something so “silly.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Does not and will not send nudes unless in a long term, committed relationship. The first time his lover asked for some, he was staunch in his disapproval for them, as he can’t find any enjoyment in looking at his own body for long, ramping up his insecurities. But after so long, he came around to the idea to please them, needing his lover to send them first in order to get hard- which he does relatively quickly. They’re usually faceless, sometimes not even shirtless, but god does he grunt and stroke himself hard and good in those video swaps. Phone sex is definitely on the table though- if he’s worked up enough anyways, those filthy words just flow out of him. Arthur’s more than fine imagining his lover across the line doing exactly what he tells them. (“Yeah, bet you miss me so much. Miss this cock buryin’ deep in your hole… Louder, baby, let me hear you touch yourself. You sound so pretty moanin’ for me.~”)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Definitely didn’t care for using toys on his lovers in his youth. His ego only allowed himself to be the one to get them off. But as he grew older, and became more informed and sometimes even lectured by lovers, he became more open to them. But now, he revels in how easily they can help his lover get off, using them both for and against them. As a simple service top, adhering to their wants, he’ll use the toy against or in their sex (“Bet that feels good, huh?,” “You want it stronger, darlin’?,” “Is it too much, heh, ‘cuz you’re squirmin’…~”). Also uses the sex toys while taking a dominant lead, chuckling and teasing at how worked up they his lover gets while being edged and/or overstimulated by him, finding drunk from of it (“C’mon, ‘ya can hold on a bit longer, don’t cum yet, sweetheart~,” “I’m not lettin’ ‘ya up ‘til you’re screamin’…”).

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Often shoots down their partner’s refusals to sex on account of them not being shaved. Snorts, and waves off their words, pulling them close by the waist as he says, “Darlin’, I’m a grown man. A lil’ hair ain’t gonna bother me.” He truly will take his lover in any state, if he’s so horny enough.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Will always use a condom. The fear of pregnancy and STDs permeates his mind before and sometimes in the middle of any sexual encounter. If he has any sort of fear that he came in a female, especially if the condom breaks, Arthur has no qualms in buying them a Plan B, pregnancy tests, and checking up with them through the scare. (It’s always negative.)

I hope y’all enjoyed these! I can go on and on about the shit I’ve done in MAU roleplays with this man, but I’d rather not embarrass myself too much. Yes pegging him was so so fun though omg

[vettelsvee]

THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up

WORD COUNT: 2007

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.

As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.

His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.

Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.

It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.

That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.

He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.

“No… No, it wasn’t today…” 

Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.

He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.

Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.

Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.

That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.

“Y/N...” he said softly.

You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”

“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”

Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.  

“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”  

“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”  

Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.  

“You know this has been really hard for me…”  

“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”  

“Y/N, I know…”  

That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.  

“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”  

“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”  

“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.  

“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”  

Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.  

“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”  

Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.  

“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”  

“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.  

“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”  

You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.  

“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”  

“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.  

“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”  

“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.

“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”

“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”

No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.

Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.

“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”

[concretejunglefm]

i need to share w someone who will understand.

making sub!noah touch himself for you, and not just that—edging. being in the same room as that? 😮‍💨 long inked fingers teasing his

you could also have him send you proof when he’s on tour :3

- @somebodyels3

KELS WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? also thank you because now i can't unthink this.

Pairing: sub!Noah Sebastian x dom f!reader.

CW: smut including masturbation, anal fingering (m receiving), mention of toy use, dirty talk, edging and orgasm denial.

Names: Good boy, Sweet boy, Puppy, Miss (reader), brief mommy mention from reader.

NSFW under the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

SWEET BOY: Please, Miss. I can't hold out any longer. Just let me stroke it, please?

A wicked grin spread across your features as you read over the text. The entire day had been spent sending Noah the most raunchy texts and voice notes you could while he was away on tour, purposely working him up, aware that he couldn't touch himself without your say or it resulting in a punishment. Of course, he could always touch himself and lie about that to you, but you had him trained enough to be the best good boy for you. You knew that his guilt of doing something like that wouldn't last too long and he'd break and confess, if only to embrace a punishment or seek one because you knew that he always wanted to be the best for you. Even in his bratty moods, he did.

YOU: Soon. You're such an eager puppy.

At the notification flashing up in response, you let out a giggle when it's a voice message of him groaning, audibly frustrated.

Pressing down on the microphone button, you tsk into the phone before your lips curl into a wider smirk with your words. "You want to be a good boy for me, don't you? You're so brave and strong trying to hold back for me. So tell me, sweet boy. Tell me how you're thinking about me late at night when you’re all alone—touching yourself to the thought of me."

Barely seconds pass before Noah responds with another voice note. "Mmm, yes, Miss. I...I want to be a good boy for you. Fuck. I think about you all the time. I can't stop wanting to touch myself when I think of you."

You respond with a single text.

YOU: Then show me.

Instead of waiting for him to respond, you FaceTime him, seeing his flustered face fill up your screen as he answers. "Are you going to touch yourself for me like a good boy?" You tilt your head and catch the way his voice chokes in his throat with the simple word of 'yes'.

"Good boy. Set me up so I can see you." You instruct him, and he follows, propping the phone up on the nearby nightstand, facing it towards the bed to capture everything.

You know that he only has the hotel room to himself for a short period of time. Whoever he was sharing with has probably gone for long enough, or he would've made some suggestion for you to call back and continue your game another time.

Although right now you can see it in the glazed-over look in his eye, he was completely yours and in the submissive headspace you love to push him into.

You softly coo praises at him, calling him all of the sweetest things while he undresses himself for you and when you finally catch sight of his hard cock in his grasp, you let out a gasp of your own.

"Oh my... have I done that to you?" Even though the camera you can see the way it twitches and pulses in his grasp, the tip is red and already leaking precum. He looks about ready to burst, and now you wish you were there to enjoy him properly.

"Take your hand away." You instruct him, and you catch the whine which causes you to click your tongue with a warning. You may be miles apart, but that won't prevent you from finding a suitable punishment to carry out on him. "I don't want you touching there. Not yet. You know where I want you to touch yourself, don't you, sweet boy?"

"h...here, Miss?" You watch the way his thighs spread wider as he leans back against the pillows stacked behind for him to lean against, and his hands begin to inch up along his thighs, his fingers teasingly exploring the space between them, stroking the space along his taint which you love to taunt him with using any number of toys when you're together.

"Yes... that's my good boy. You know just how mommy loves to touch you." Your own breath is picking up now, feeling the dull ache between your thighs growing, but you're too focused on watching to seek your own relief, not when you'll be able to use this to replay on later.

"Have you got—oh, you are a good puppy." You don't even need to remind him about the lube, seeing him use one hand to flick open the lid and squirt some, squeezing hard enough it causes a slight mess as it covers both his hole and fingers.

"Just gentle now. Nice and slow for me." You urge him on, hearing the way his sounds are becoming more choked with the slow teasing of his finger against his hole.

"Miss, please." You love listening to him beg like this when you're not there, like your own personal slutty puppy who's seeking your approval for him to touch and fuck himself. "I need you to touch me. I need you so desperately." You can hear it in his tone and it makes you shift, rubbing your thighs together. God, how you wish you were with him.

"Do you have your toy with you?"

"I do! I do!" He's so eager and ready, holding his toy up proudly, the small plug you bought for him as an experiment which became something of a beloved choice for him to use, especially when all he wanted was to be filled by you. "Can I please use it, Miss? Please? I need to feel you in me."

How can you deny him when he's like this? Begging and spreading himself for you. You watch how he works his fingers slowly inside, never pushing too deep without your instruction and you continue to give it to him, allowing for him to take the toy and watching with your own bated breath as his greedy hole swallows it. "You're such a greedy little puppy." You let out with your breath, listening to the sweet whines and moans he makes, pleading for more, needing more as his other hand ghosts along his cock before pulling away with every tongue lashing you give him about it.

"Is my puppy nice and full now?"

"Y-y…yes, Miss." He's struggling and he's so on edge that you're sure he will end up cumming over himself without any further assistance, a thought which is arguably hot, though right now you can't help but love the idea of making him suffer a little longer by denying him of what he really wants; an orgasm.

"Good boy. Now you're going to sleep like this, nice and full, and you're not allowed to cum tonight. I want you to call me back in the morning and show me how hard your cock is and what a mess you've made during the night because you're so needy." There's a sickly, saccharine tone in your voice as you taunt him, aware that he's already struggling, and you'll be surprised if he even makes it to morning before attempting to call you or failing altogether and giving you the guilt look he always has when he struggles to hold out. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss. I understand." You see the pout forming across his face, and you wish that you could come and kiss it away for him. Even if he is your submissive in this moment, you hate to see him in such a pouty state; it's one of the few things he can do which really pulls on your heartstrings, even in these moments.

"That's Mommy’s good boy." You say as you blow him a kiss before hanging up. 

When she hangs up, Noah's left whimpering, his hole squeezing tight around the plug while his cock twitches, left untouched and aching with the need to cum. From across the room, the voice of his fellow bandmate draws his attention as he smugly says. "You heard her. No cumming for you tonight." 

[justwinginglife]

Tomorrow

Guyssssss- I haven't written smut in a HOT minute, so sorry if it's sub par, I am warming back up lmao. But I just find it so funny that the thing that gets me back into writing smut is the new Caleb trailer. Anyway, yes this is NSFW, 18+, yada yada. Please don't send hate, I know as much about Caleb's character as you do, and probably less because I'm not as attentive as some of yall, but I am just as feral after the new trailer so I HAD to write a fic. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was-”

Familiar eyes gazed back at you, halting your train of thought in its ever spiraling tracks. Even in your dreams (and your nightmares, which had lately begun to outnumber the dreams), his eyes weren’t as vibrant as they were now, and you’d started to hate that you couldn’t even remember that one detail about him properly when you’d just laid him to rest not three months ago. You never thought you’d see those shimmering eyes of his ever again, but now there they were, bright as day, and your voice had chosen this moment to sink back down your throat and bury itself deep in your stomach. 

He looked away, only giving you a quick nod to convey his hasty acceptance of your apology, before he turned to leave. 

“You’re… you’re…” Your words stumbled through your lips like a baby learning how to walk for the first time and you cursed yourself internally for your sudden ineptitude. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about what you might say to him if you’d ever been given a chance to see him again, if it ever happened that there was some god out there to take pity on you and see fit to return his life to him, or if ever there came a time when you obtained the ability to travel back to the past and undo your previous mistakes, protect him like you should’ve, but now that he was actually standing here before you, seemingly alive and well, leaving you possibly blameless (when you’d done nothing but fault yourself these past few agonizing months), you found that any possible words you could summon fell short of anything you actually wanted to convey. 

You settled for a simple, “You’re… alive?”

At your words, his shoulders tensed and his eyes - the eyes you’d always loved so much, the eyes you’d grown to miss so much- suddenly began to dart back and forth, as though scanning his surroundings. You recognized that behavior. You’d been taught to assess for threats in the very same way. 

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you wanted to touch him. To reassure him. You reached a hand out but hesitated a moment before your fingers graced his sleeve. When you made the decision to rescind your touch, a flicker of pain flashed in his eyes but it quickly disappeared as though you’d merely imagined it. 

You cleared your throat, drawing his attention (and anxiety) once more. You knew you shouldn’t be talking to him, not like this, not in the middle of the street, but you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to again. Whoever was threatening him would have to wait. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I once knew. He used to always climb up my balcony and sneak in without warning to play tricks on me. I miss him doing that. Sometimes I leave the door unlocked in case he ever wants to again.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “But it appears I was mistaken, so I’ll let you go about your day. Excuse me.” And with that, you continued on your way home, hoping and praying that he’d gotten your hint. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caleb hesitated at the door.

He shouldn’t be here. What the hell was he doing here? He’d stayed away all these months, endured all the emptiness and all the loneliness all on his own, suffering in silence to keep you safe, only to throw it all away again just because you’d asked, just because you’d missed him. He’d known you would miss him; it shouldn’t have changed anything. Shouldn’t have changed his goal, shouldn’t have affected his plans. But he hadn’t expected to run into you on the street like that, in a neighborhood so far from your own, at the most random hour of the day, and he hadn’t expected the way his heart would throb in his chest at the sight of you, at the sound of you. He hadn’t expected the way your words would move him. The way your words would remind him what you meant to him. How much you meant to him. How much you always meant to him. 

He knew he was being selfish, climbing up your balcony like this, when it could very well put the both of you in danger again, just because he wanted to see you, but was it so selfish to want to dry your tears? Was it so selfish to want to hold you in his arms, to stop your shaking? To remind you that he still loved you? To ask you not to forget him? 

So he turned the door handle. You had left it unlocked like you said. He wanted to laugh and he wanted to scream. How could you be so careless? Didn’t you know what kinds of people there were lurking in the shadows? He’d have to reprimand you properly before he took his leave. 

When he entered your room, shutting the door quietly behind him, there was no one in the bed. His brows furrowed. You’d left the door unlocked, so where were you? 

Arms surrounded him from behind and his heart thundered in his chest. If he hadn’t caught a whiff of your perfume, he might’ve assumed you were an assailant and slammed your head through a wall. God, you were so careless. Didn’t you know he could’ve hurt you when you snuck up on him like that?

“Idio-” He turned to hiss at you, but stopped when he saw your tear stained eyes and quivering smile. 

“You came.” You whispered. Your arms around him trembled but your grasp was firm, as though he might disappear at any moment if you let him slip away. It broke his heart. What had he done to you?

“I did. I’m here. I’m here.” He repeated, wrapping his arms around you protectively as he rested his head atop yours. He held you until the shaking subsided. “I’m… I’m sorry.” The words were strained, and he knew they’d never make up for anything, and they’d never change what diverging paths they’d have to return to after tonight was over, but he felt the need to offer his apology to you anyway, useless as it was. 

“It’s… it’s okay. I don’t know… I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you have your reasons. You wouldn’t do something like this to hurt me. I just… I missed you. More than you could possibly know.”

His heart shattered into pieces at your words. “I… I know. Because I missed you too. So much.”

You smiled at that and he felt undeserving of such a smile, not when he was the reason it’d disappeared in the first place. 

“Stay with me tonight.” You said firmly, your voice finally finding its strength.

He shook his head apologetically. “I can only stay for an hour or two. I shouldn’t even be here at all; it’s dangerous to stay the whole night.”

“But I won’t be able to see you again, right? After this, it’s all over? So stay with me for the night. Just one night. Give me something to hold onto for the rest of my days.”

He winced. When you put it like that, it was hard to refuse. Didn’t he owe you this? Didn’t you deserve this much? He’d be gone before you woke up; the least he could do was hold you tight and fight off your nightmares as you slept. So he begrudgingly agreed, telling himself it was for your sake that he laid beside you, not wanting to admit that he also just wanted one more chance to pretend that you were his. To pretend that he’d be waking up to find you singing some song in the shower or flipping pancakes in the kitchen in the morning. To pretend that you and him could go on like this forever, that you could simply belong to each other for an eternity. 

So he climbed into bed beside you. He climbed into bed and conveniently ignored the fact that, knowing you as well as he did, you should’ve asked him by now what was going on. Knowing you, you should’ve demanded that he stay. Knowing you, you should’ve insisted you could fight whoever was against them together. And he should’ve told you that you were being naive and that wasn’t how the world worked. He should’ve had to claim he was doing this to protect you. But you asked no questions and he gave no answers. So maybe he was being naive too, when he simply held you and figured that holding you was all there would be to it. 

And then you turned over and kissed him. 

And his heart stopped.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You could feel his tension.

You could almost drown in it- it was so thick.

But you kissed him again and again, until it began to melt away, as you murmured, “If all we have is tonight, I’m going to make the most of it.”

He was hesitant at first, and you figured he would be. You’d always had this unspoken connection with him, but neither of you had ever admitted to it and you were sure he chalked your relationship up as nothing more than adoptive siblings or childhood friends. But time was running out and you needed him with every fiber of your being. And you needed him to know that. 

You threaded your fingers through his hair as you pressed all your passion into his lips. Eventually, his hands began to find your waist, pulling you closer, as he deepened the kiss. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth, tangling with yours in a messy dance. When you let out a moan, he couldn’t help but groan, knocking his hips against yours in a desperate attempt to satisfy himself. You returned the friction, dry humping the bulge that had begun to grow in his pants. 

And suddenly, he was kissing you harshly now, not caring who heard you, not caring who could be lurking in the shadows. If he died tonight, he’d die happy. If he hurt you, he’d apologize later. 

His hands fisted in your hair as he tugged your head back so he could devour the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail of bruises in his wake. When he practically tore your nightgown off, hungrily sucking and biting at your breasts, pinching your peaked nipples in between his fingers, just like he’d always dreamed of doing, and you suddenly whined his name, he nearly lost it. 

His whole life, he’d always seen you as someone to protect, someone to safeguard, someone to watch over, even if he knew you could take care of yourself. But right now, with you arching at his touch, with you whimpering at every press of his lips, at every drag of his tongue, he couldn’t help but want to utterly ruin you. He wanted to make a mess of your hair, to make a mess of your pussy, to make a mess of your life. He wanted to make you need him, to make you obsessed with him, to make you entirely devoted and dependent on him and only him. 

He wanted to fuck you so hard that you were bedridden for the rest of your life. He wanted to fuck you so deep that you felt his dick in your throat when he drilled it into your pussy. He wanted to fill you up so entirely that his cum was still spilling out of your used up cunt months after he’d left you. If he got you pregnant, at least you were sure to remember him. 

He was completely lost in his addiction to you, mind swimming with salacious thoughts, when you suddenly cried out in pain, jolting him from his deranged state. He quickly let go of you, breathing heavily as he attempted to regain some control over his current, sorry state. He was about to apologize when you let out a frustrated huff.

“Why’d you stop?” You demanded.

He blinked. 

You could tell he didn’t understand. You dragged his hand to your soaked panties. “I didn’t want you to stop.” 

He sucked in a sharp breath in attempts to steady himself, but he couldn’t help the feeling that had begun to surge through his entire body. He wanted you. And he wanted you NOW. And if you weren’t going to stop him, he wasn’t going to stop until you were on the verge of losing consciousness and he was shooting blanks into your fucked out cunt. 

“You just woke up the devil, baby. Now you’re going to have to take everything I give you like a good, little girl.”

Wasting no time at all, he yanked down your panties, tossing them god knows where. You’d have no need for them tonight. You only had time to gasp, before he began jamming his fingers inside your dripping pussy. 

On more than one occasion (more than even ten or a hundred), he’d imagined how he’d take you for the first time. He’d be patient, gently coax you open with a finger, then two, maybe three. He’d lovingly dote on your clit, teasing it with his tongue, before trailing down to lap up your juices. Maybe his tongue would work your pussy open even wider for him before he finally, slowly, inserted himself inside you. He’d only go as fast as you wanted. He’d be as gentle as you needed. He’d tell you that you were doing so good, tell you that he loved you so much, tell you how perfect you were. 

But he’d already fucked that up tonight when he started with three fingers and pumped them so roughly, so hastily, into your cunt that if you hadn’t already been soaked, it might’ve hurt. And then he got impatient and decided you were spread wide enough for his cock and yanked his pants down his legs. Before you knew it, he was flipping you over, pinning your wrists harshly against your back, before he slammed his dick so deep inside you that you felt it in your stomach. 

“Caleb!” You groaned into the pillow, biting down on it. 

“Shiiit,” He hissed. “Shit, shit, shit.” With every cuss, he thrust into you harder and harder. “That’s right, baby. Say my fucking name. Remember who makes you feel this good. Not fucking Zayne, that’s for sure.”

Maybe you were feeling particularly masochistic tonight, but when you heard his words, noting the hint of insecurity he’d probably been hiding your entire life, you couldn’t help but feel devious. Letting out an exaggerated moan, you replied, “Ughhhhh, I bet Zayne would split open my pussy so nicely though… I bet he could last for hours.”

Suddenly the bed snapped as the weight of his evol drove you barreling into the floor. “Hours, huh? I’m going to make you mine all goddamn night and you won’t even remember your own name by the time I’m finished with you, let alone anyone else’s.”

He made good on his word.

It was a good thing you weren’t particularly attached to your furniture, because he nearly destroyed the entire bedroom, fucking you against every square inch of it. It wasn’t until you both literally had no cum left to release that he finally let you rest in his arms. The two of you quickly fell into a deep slumber beside each other, your bodies exhausted from the brutality of the night. 

When he woke up in the morning, both of his hands had been cuffed to the bed frame. He frowned, tugging at them as he called his evol to aid him, but it was no use. You’d put evol blocking cuffs on both his hands. When he searched what he could see of the room for you and didn’t find you, he called out your name, frustrated. When you didn’t answer, he called again. “Baby!” 

You popped your head into the room, grinning. “Mm, so I’m baby now? I like the sound of that.”

He was about to chide you when he saw a plate full of pancakes in your hands. Pancakes. He’d woken up to you making pancakes. Just like he dreamed of. His heart was practically bursting. 

“Open!” You smiled as you fed him a forkful. 

He groaned at how deliciously sweet they were. When he leaned forward for another bite, his cuffs yanked him back, reminding him of the situation he found himself in. He huffed. “Care to tell me why I’m handcuffed?”

You smiled again, your smile as sweet as the syrup on his tongue. “Oh, that’s an easy question to answer. Because you’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on, and when you do leave, you’re taking me with.” 

He scoffed. So that was why you hadn’t asked him any questions last night. You had already planned this. “Taking you with? Do you know how dangerous it is out there?”

You waved your gun in his face. “Hunter. Remember? I can handle myself.”

He rolled his eyes. And there it was. He knew you were like that. He knew you’d take on the world for him. This was the part where he said you were naive, that things didn’t always work out the way you wanted them to, that you’d be better if he stayed away from you. But as he watched you munch on your freshly made pancakes without a care in the world, snuggling up to him like it was just another Tuesday, he couldn’t bring himself to rebuke you. 

He only loved you more for it. 

Here you were, feeding him breakfast, sitting in his lap and telling him everything would be okay. So maybe it was his turn to be a little naive. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, after all the secrecy and the lies and the hiding, maybe you were the only person in the world he could trust. And maybe he trusted you to make it okay. Maybe you would be safer without him, maybe you would have a good life without him, but maybe it’d never be a great life without him either. Maybe he didn’t want you to have a life without him. Maybe he didn’t want to have a life without you. 

Maybe tomorrow he’d make you pancakes.

Maybe tomorrow he’d make you babies. 

Maybe tomorrow could start today.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter @tbaluver

[d0rianw1lde]

Omg.. please… Eddie’s first. Right at Wayne’s.. hurt me some more 🫣🫠😭🔪

>:))

That first night? When Wayne’d gotten a ring from the police station, his brother on the other end begging him for just a bit of cash? Bailing his brother out was the last thing on Wayne’s mind- he’d dropped the phone rand left it dangling by the cord in the mad-dash to Al’s trailer. Door unlocked, lights off, freezing in the dead of winter, Wayne was worried his 8 year-old nephew had taken it upon himself to go find help.

But Wayne was able to find him. Shivering in his sleep in Al’s bedroom. Wayne was confused when he’d went to pull back what he thought was a blanket from Eddie’s curled up frame, and instantly shattered when he realized that it was no blanket at all. No, the soft, floral fabric draped over the young boy belonged to one of his mother’s favorite dresses. (‘Still smells like ‘er.’. Eddie would explain some time after the event, his voice still stitched with his mama’s southern twang.).

It’d been days since Al had gone to jail- lord knows what this poor kid had been eating, how he’d been getting by. He’s just happy he was able to swoop his poor nephew up before any more harm could be done.

Wayne had stopped at Benny’s on the way back- watched Eddie scarf down a burger and fries, all big brown eyes and freckles, nervously glancing around as if he were expecting the world to collapse beneath him. Wayne tries to talk to him, but it’s as if Eddie’s out of words. He can’t speak- he just stares, his eyes twinkling wildly against the lights of the diner, mouth filled with food, and fingers still trembling. But Wayne doesn’t push it- he speaks, lets Eddie listen, smiles when he can get a nod or two out of the boy.

And when they get home, Wayne is quick to give up his bed. And Eddie stares, nodding before he slips quietly into the bedroom. A silent goodnight- one that leaves Wayne nervous. It’s only amplified when he hears quiet sniffling from the bedroom, and immediately hops up from the pull-out couch to peek into the bedroom. He doesn’t see much- just a bundle of blankets smushed all the way at the corner of the bed, moving slightly thanks to Eddie’s sniffling form underneath.

“What’s wrong kiddo?”

There’s no answer. Wayne sits on the bed beside the bundle, and wrings his hands nervously.

“…Your pops letcha watch cartoons after bedtime?”

To this, Eddie peeks out from his little blanket hideout. He nods, and Wayne chuckles.

“‘Course he does, he ain’t around much to tell you what to do…Y’ever have a hot cocoa when you watch em?”

Eddie wipes his eyes, and his lip trembles. He shakes his head, and Wayne nods toward the door.

“C’mon. Go sit by the television and put somethin’ you wanna watch on, and I’ll make you something warm.”

Eddie nods, slipping out of Wayne’s comforter to pad off into the living room, where he crawls onto the floor to mess with Wayne’s television dial. Wayne watches him, peeking up from heating up his cocoa to watch as Eddie fidgets with the dial, finally landing on something that catches his eye. He’s so surprised at how quiet Eddie is- he’d never seen a kid so polite. And when he approaches Eddie with a cup of cocoa topped with an inordinate amount of whipped cream, he lets out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding when Eddie cracks a smile, showing off his little gapped grin and a missing tooth. He taps the mug given to him, and grins.

“Garfield.”

Wayne grins, giving Eddie a low chuckle as he nods. “Y’like that cat? I like ‘im too. He’s funny, ain’t he. I’ve still got the paper with his comic, y’know, if y’wanna read the funnies.”

Eddie nods, and takes a sip of his cocoa carefully, grinning when whipped cream dots his nose and lip.

And it’s a step in the right direction. It soothes Wayne’s fear of making Eddie feel uncomfortable- it warms Eddie up to him. And it warms Wayne’s heart when Eddie, belly full and eyes half-lidded, ends up leaning into Wayne’s shoulder and falling asleep there. Warm. Content.

[femininefables]

⛓️🖤ℑ’𝔩𝔩 𝔎𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔚𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤🖤⛓️

Sevika x fem! Y/n: broken marriage angst

part 1

a/n : in reality, I can never see Sevika treating her S/O like this, but I’m a sucker for angst so here this is anyways.

contains: swearing, alcohol abuse, minor pushing and shoving, smoking, maybe manipulation? Idk. If you’re uncomfortable with any of this, please stay away for your own comfort! ❤️

w/c : 2.1k

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The rain comes down hard against the shaking windows of your apartment in Zaun. You’re sitting up, waiting on the return of your wife, Sevika. She was meant to be home a while ago, but you try not to worry. Despite that, the anxiety that something’s wrong this time lingers in your mind.

She’s usually late to come home since she’s now Silco’s right hand, and is a lot busier than she used to be. You can’t say you entirely agree with Silco and Sevika, but this job seems to mean a lot to her, so you let any opinions you have go.

The clock strikes again… it’s been an hour, and no Sevika. You know that something’s up for sure, but what can you do? There’s no way you’d last long alone in Zaun past midnight… You try to stay up longer, but you feel sleep pulling your eyelids shut and attempting to quiet your worried mind…

Defeated, you sleepily make your way to the bed you share with Sevika, crawling onto it before collapsing where she’d usually sleep. You can’t help but smell her on the pillows, the blankets, and the sheets. You decide you’ll head straight to Silco’s base the very next morning to find her… if she isn’t back by then…

The faint sunlight filters its way through your halfway drawn blinds. Reaching out, you search for the familiar warmth of your wife, but she still isn’t there. Sitting up immediately, you pull on some clothes, grab a pocket knife, and leave to search for her on your own.

When you finally reach Silco’s place, most of his guards and goons move out of your way. Sevika has always made it clear that you’re with her, and the consequences of your mistreatment won’t be pretty, whether she’s your coworker or not. “Sev? Are you here?” You call out nervously. There’s still no sign of her. You slowly make your way to Silco’s door, cracking it open before pushing it out of the way. Sevika is completely knocked out on the couch.

Your hand goes to your mouth in shock as your eyes wander towards the bandaged bloody stump where her arm used to be. You feel light headed. You might puke, but you steel yourself, and instead focus on her face. “Sev! Are you okay? What happened?!” You say. You don’t shake her, since you think that might hurt her. You press your ear to her chest and breath a sigh of relief when you not only hear her heart pumping, but feel the slow rise and fall of her chest that you missed the night before.

“She’ll live…” A sickeningly familiar voice says from behind you. Whirling around, startled by the intrusion, you see that it’s only Silco. He doesn’t look so good himself either… Not that he ever did to you anyways. “What happened!?” You demand, trying to hide the obvious tremor in your voice. “A plan.. I can’t tell you everything, but Vander’s girl was causing some trouble, and there was…an explosion..”

He walks around the room till he reaches his desk, sitting down in the large chair. “Your..partner, Sevika…She defended me.. probably saved my life. In exchange for well…I think you can tell.” You’re aware of what has been going on the past couple of days. The explosion in piltover, the enforcers running around looking for the suspects, but you have no idea how this is related at all. All you want is for Sevika to wake up and tell you everything’s okay like normal.

“Uggh….shit..” Wish granted. Sevika’s eyes flutter open and she looks around. It’s clear she’s not really there, but you can’t help rushing back to her side. “Sev it’s me! A-are you okay? How do you feel!?” She looks at you strangely, before muttering a curse and going back to sleep. Kind of anti-climactic.

“We had a doctor stop by. She’s on a lot of medication right now, but she should be okay, given I’m giving her two months off..” She just lost her arm.. Only two months!? You think to yourself. However; “Okay..” is how you respond. All you can do is stare down at your wife, who merely furrows her eyebrows in her sleep.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:-

It’s been some time since the accident. Sevika is back home, and has been for about a week now. Recently, she’s been less affectionate, but you’ve brushed it off as stress, or her getting used to her new disability.

Despite this, you’re trying to be the most supportive wife you can possibly be. One afternoon, you spot her struggling to eat with a spoon. Her left hand was her dominant one after all… You go over to help her, lifting the spoon to her lips and smiling. “Hey. It’s alright I can help you.” She glares at you. “I don’t need your help… I’m not a kid.” You sigh, trying to be patient with her. “I know…but just let me help you right now.” Sevika has never been good at accepting help. She always wants to do things on her own. It’s a quality you find equally endearing, and annoying at times.

“I know that-well, things are going to be different for you from now on. This is all going to take some getting used to, but please, let me help you for now.” You plead with her. Her eyes soften momentarily, before looking away from you with a grunt. She begrudgingly takes the spoon in her mouth, allowing you to help her eat.

Despite some moments of tenderness, things are still pretty rough. She’s drinking a lot more than usual, and completely brushing you off when you try to talk to her about it. One night, you wake up to the loud sound of the TV in the living room. Sevika isn’t next to you.

You get up and head out the bedroom door, finding her drinking what looks like her third beer, and watching some crap on the TV. “What’s with that look, baby~?” She asks with a drunken slur. “You’re drinking again…You’ve already had a lot today.” You say, walking over and sitting down next to her. You hold her remaining hand with your own. “Ah fuck…Just get off my back…” She groans, rolling her eyes at you. “Sev, I just-all this drinking can’t be good for you. I know loosing your arm is rough, but this isn’t the solution! Just please come to bed with me.” You beg her. For a moment her eyebrows raise, before she scowls at you. She roughly shoves you off of her. “I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion on how i’m dealing with my own shit. Not yours.” She spat. Sevika swears all the time. She has the mouth of a sailor, but this time it feels different. Like the feeling you had when waiting for her to come home that night. A sinking feeling in your stomach telling you something is wrong. Fighting back tears, you stand up and return to bed.

It’s after one a.m. Sevika still hasn’t come to bed. The TV is off now. Is she asleep? You grip your wedding ring tightly. As you twist it around your finger, you assure yourself that this will all brush over. She just needs time…she’ll come around…she still loves me…it’ll be okay…

You jolt awake at the sound of heavy footsteps and the bed bouncing as Sevika plops down. You feel her calloused hand snake around your waist, and pull your back flush against her chest. Her chin comes to rest on the top of your head, and she finally speaks. “Hey…I’m sorry…” She sounds remorseful. Drunk for sure. Sevika is usually good at holding her alcohol. Must have drank a lot tonight…

“I shouldn’t be mean to you… I love you… you know that right?” She presses a kiss to the top of your head. The first one in a while. It stings a bit that it’s not when she’s sober. “Yeah… I know.” You mutter. Sevika mumbles on “ I’m sorry baby. I don’t deserve someone as pretty and sweet as you. I don’t know why you wanted to be with an old lady like me…” She squeezes you tighter. Sevika is only thirty three, but she calls herself old all the time. The usual ramblings of a drunk Sevika. You fall asleep that night in her arms. Till you’re not. The morning leaves you alone in the bed. After getting up, you notice Sevika isn’t home. You wait all afternoon until she finally comes through the door. “Oh, hey babe.” She says. “ Sev, where were you so early?” You ask, noticing the red cape draped over where her left arm was. “ Silco’s place. He called me over and, well… I’m getting a prosthetic.” She doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“That’s great!” You rush to her side, urging her to sit down. She’s still a bit tense. “Is something wrong?” You ask. She’s averting your gaze. “Look I just…you…fuck. Never mind.” She stands up and lights a cigarillo. Something she never used to do around you.

Sevika’s new arm will definitely take some getting used to. You’re not too sure about the shimmer aspect of it, but she seems pleased with it. “I’ll be back to work with this soon.” She says one night while you’re cooking dinner. “Aww…I’ll miss having you at home, Sev.” You say it like it’s a joke, but you really will miss her. “Yeah? I don’t know why. I’ve been a total bitch recently.” She remarks. “I still will. These past weeks have been hard, so I understand.” She frowns, leaning her elbows on the counter. “You’re just gonna let me get away with that? Wonder what else you’d put up with…”

And so, Sevika is back to work. You barely see her. Leaving early in the morning, and coming back either late into the night, or the early hours of the morning. You’re not sure if all of it is work though… Sometimes, she’ll come back with loads of cash. Sevika has always been a gambler, but it may be getting out of hand now.

Other times, she’ll come home scuffed up from another one of Silco’s “errands.” She won’t let you tend to her like she used to. You were hoping your relationship would go back to how it was now that things are mostly back to normal, but you only seem to be getting more distant. It’s been one week. One whole week since you’ve seen your wife. She told you this mission would be a long one, and “don’t expect to see me around soon.” Before just leaving. You miss the goodbye hugs and soft kisses, and the sweet nothings she’d leave you with.

One night the door slams open, waking you with a little yelp. “Just me.” You hear her yell from the doorway. Getting up, you rush to greet Sevika with a big hug. She stiffens, but merely rubs your head in response. “I missed you…” You mumble into her shirt, which smells of smoke, and blood. “Isn’t that cute?” She chuckles, something you haven’t heard in the longest time.

Everything is strange now. Moments like these feel off. She’s kind to you, sweet and loving, before suddenly becoming cold and distant again. Is this good? Is it bad? No marriage is going to be perfect everyday, but these ups and downs are confusing you. Nevertheless, you savor the rare moment of tenderness.

That morning, you wake up with a smile on your face. Today is Sevika’s day off. Your mind is brimming with ideas of what you could do today. Maybe you can go to the market together, or do some baking, or possibly something else you’ve been missing from her… Shaking the lewd delusion from your head, you get up to go find Sevika. To your surprise, she’s putting on her shoes and adjusting her red poncho over her new arm. “Where are you going?” You ask meekly. Your voice betraying the slightly sad mood you’ve found yourself in. “Out.” Is all she says. She doesn’t even look over her shoulder at you. Deciding not to let this moment go to waste, you tackle her in a tight hug, feeling her warm body against yours, along with the ice cold metal of her arm.

“Get the hell off’a me!” Her voice raises slightly, pushing you away, and knocking you off of her. “I- I’ll be back soon.” She looks regretful for just a moment, before leaving without another word.

For a moment you can’t even move. Just standing there looking shocked as ever. She’s never been so secretive. So aggressive or impulsive. You feel tears sliding down your cheeks before you can even try and stop them. But there’s also a ball of anger and pain in your stomach. You can’t say anything except for a little gasp.

You desperately touch the wedding ring around your finger like it’s a lifeline. “From the fanciest place I could find.” Is what she told you that day. Her eyes trained on yours like you were the only thing in her world. You certainly were not now.

A/n : Hello! Thanks so much for reading part one. I plan to keep this as a series, and any form of critique or suggestions are welcome!

-Elena

[pauline-sunshine]

Wanna smoke?

Jungkook x reader

Warnings: characters are smoking

Word count: 1360

A/N: I apologize for any errors! English is not my first language. Enjoy! Also those edits with this mf smoking live rent-free in my mind. Help.

First time in South Korea! Exciting, right? It was your dream for quite some time and finally you decided to come here to experience rich asian culture and see everything yourself. It was especially pleasant because you ended up to having your personal guide through Korea in a face of Jungkook. You still didn’t believe it, though.

Due to your profession you visited a lot of music events and awards. As trivial as it is that’s exactly how you two met. There was something special about your relationship yet intangible. You could be miles away from each other, you could not talk for weeks, but every time any of you replied to the other’s story it always grew into the most heartwarming and deep conversations. The connection between you two was on another level. It was as if time didn't exist when you were engaged in these exchanges, transcending distance and circumstance. There was no place for awkwardness instead it was a pure hart-to-heart or soul-to-soul interactions. You knew him from another life, at least you liked to think so.

Obviously he was the first one to find out you were going to Seoul. It all stated as your usual conversation but it led to something different this time.

“Guess what, Jungkook,” you teased him with a sly smile.

‘’Oh, i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours,” he answered in a raspy voice.

“Well, you’d better be prepared because I’m coming,” you raised your eyebrows in a quick movement and glanced at your FaceTime partner.

“Is that a threat? Am I supposed to be scared?” He tried to joke it off.

“You didn’t get it, did you? I said I’m coming to Korea,” you made sure to emphasize the last word.

“Are you serious? When? I’ll make sure to meet you at the airport,” all of a sudden his joking side transformed into impatience.

“Hey, hey, come down, cowboy. I’m coming in a week. Still have to make a hotel reservation and…” you couldn’t continue because of his interruption.

“What are you talking about? You thought you would come to Seoul and stay in a hotel. Please, make me a favor and don’t say stupid things like that ever again. You’re staying in my apartment.” He wasn’t even asking or inviting you to stay, it sounded more like a demand.

“Well, I guess I can’t refuse then,” you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling.

You arrived quite late at night but he kept the promise and picked you up from the airport. You noticed him in a waiting area and ran to him dropping all your baggage.

“I never thought I missed you so much,” you smiled dissolving in his warm embrace.

“I never thought you would finally become bigger than my phone screen,” he admitted hugging you stronger.

“Told you I was coming,” you teased him and loosened the embrace keeping your hands around his neck.

“Told you I was scared,” he talked back smiling and resting his hands on your waist slightly moving them up and down.

“Now, c’mon, let’s drive home. It’s late,” he suggested while looking into your eyes.

He picked up your things and led the way to the car. On the way to his apartment you were talking about your ‘tourist schedule’: things you had to do and places worth visiting. You didn’t notice how the time flew by but here you were entering his apartment.

“Wow” you sighted.

“Wanna look around?”

The apartment’s interior design reflected a blend of modern aesthetics and personal touches that were creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The living area featured a minimalist design with sleek furniture. The kitchen had dark cabinetry that contrasted beautifully with light countertops. In the bedroom, a calming color palette of soft grays and whites promoted relaxation. The bed was dressed in plush linens, surrounded by tasteful decor that reflects Jungkook's personality. There was also a nice balcony with a breathtaking view of the city. Overall, Jungkook's apartment was a harmonious blend of style and comfort, making it a perfect sanctuary for the talented artist.

He showed you your room and gave you some personal time because he knew how tiring flights can be.

“Make yourself at home, Y/N. Take your time, meanwhile I’ll get us some food,” he said leaning on a doorway.

You quickly freshened up, unpacked some of your things and headed back to the living room. You found him laying the table.

“Hey,” you said quietly letting him know you were there.

“Well, I thought, as it’s your first time in Korea, I decided to order some kimbap, hope you will like it.” He made a gesture inviting you to sit.

“Never tried that but it looks absolutely delicious,” only now from seeing the food you actually realized how hungry you were.

“And for the drinks…” he was going through his liquor cabinet, “wanna try a Korean soju?” He turned to you.

“Bring it here,” you replied with a big smile.

You had the time of your life having dinner with him and laughing at the way he was trying to teach you how to eat with chopsticks. Once the food was finished, the two of you moved to the living room opening another bootle of soju. Maybe it was the tipsy state you two had but every time there were just a little more innocent touches and the need of him inside you was growing stronger. Laughter became quieter, and pauses between sentences grew longer and were filled with meaningful glances.

“Wanna smoke?” You suggested.

“Hell yeah, let’s go,” he stood up and gave you his hand lifting you up.

He didn’t let go of your hand instead he intertwined your fingers and led you to the balcony. As you entered you noticed a little couch with a coffee table on a side with cigs, lighter and an ashtray. He plopped down on the couch while you came closer to the panoramic glass windows just admiring the beauty of Seoul.

“You know, the view is to die for,” you murmured completely mesmerized by what you were seeing.

“Yeah, I know” he agreed. You’ll never know that at this moment the only thing he was looking at was you.

“Do you want to hear my smoking playlist?” You asked while sitting next to him on the couch.

“Sure, I want to hear everything If that’s connected to you” he lighted up his cigarette. You held your one between your lips while finding the song. “Here, let me help you.” He took your chin with his hand turning your face to him. Neither of you broke the eye contact as he lit your cigarette.

“Tanks,” you replied. “Here, found it, listen,” you pressed play. Boy, the last thing he expected to hear was this.

“But that’s…” he bursted into laughter.

“Yes, that’s Black Swan…Hey, you! Stop laughing!” You hit him slightly while making a drag.

“Sorry, sorry, I just didn’t expect that,” he said after letting the smoke out.

“I don’t know…It just makes me feel thing okay?!” You started singing along to the song while reaching the ashtray and stubbing your cigarette.

Jungkook made the same thing and there you were in bare millimeters away from his face. The next thing you knew was your lips meeting his. A shy at first snd soft kiss builds into a passionate one. You move and sit down on his laps whining upon him. “Wow, you’re impatient,” Jungkook chuckled softly against your lips. You rushed your fingers through his hair and his toned torso while he shamelessly explored your body with his arms. His hands roam your back, pulling you in closer. The tension builds, electricity crackling between you as the music continues in the background. Jungkook pulled back slightly, glancing into your eyes, his breath mingling with yours.

“It’s about time, don’t you think so?” He said with a seductive smile. You gleamed and led him into another kiss.