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yamumsyadadd · 7 days ago

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ten years

Your first love is the love you’ll never forget. The type where you’d sit down and tell your kids. the type to look back and picture all the memories of you two.

You and alexia grew up together in Mollet del Vallès. The Putellas family lived next door so naturally, you, Alba and Alexia all became inseparable. It wasn’t until just before your sixteenth birthday that things had shifted between the pair of you.

You were close, but the lingering stares, the touches, the deep connection you shared changed. It was the month before your birthday that alexia sat on your bedroom floor crying. Refusing to tell you what was wrong, or to say anything really. Her words were a mixture of sobs and unintelligible mumbles.

After a while the tears stopped, but then she stood up and started pacing the room, “I’m gay. I’m gay and I am in love with my best friend. How stupid is that!”

“Alexia, you can be gay. I don’t care. You’re still alexia. You’re still my best-“ it dawned on you. She was in love with her best friend, you were her best friend. She was in love with you. Alexia Putellas, the dorky, adorable, sweet girl that you were in love with was in love with you too. “Oh.”

“Oh! OH! Is that all you have to say? oH” her hands are flapping around like a bird trying to learn how to fly, if it was any other moment you’d laugh.

“Do you have another best friend?”

“What?”

“I said-“

“No I heard you. That’s your first question? I come out to you, confess my love to you, and you ask if I have another best friend?”

“Relax. I was just making sure otherwise it would be real awkward.” She’s confused for a moment, watching you get up and walk towards her. You cup her face and kiss her. It’s messy, hard, there’s teeth and some unintentional tongue. “I’m in love with you too.” You say after pulling away.

The next four years go by in a blur. Alexia’s career kicks off, forcing her to move to Levante but you make it work. Weekends are spent judging her games, your university degree and adult life in general but slowly, it becomes to much.

maybe your first love is the one that sticks with you because it’s the only person who will have you completely, receive all of you, after that you learn better, but, most of all, no matter what a piece of you forever remains left behind in the heart of the one you loved. A piece no future lover could ever get, no matter what. That piece holds in once, the belief that love really can last forever, it holds friendship and pain, trial and error, that one kiss you’ll never forget, and the night under the stars you can never get back. It holds youth, and everything you thought love would be, everything that was proven wrong.

Alexia was spending more time with her teammates, you were studying hard. There wasn’t much left in common between you two and slowly that caused fights. She wanted to stay in, rewatch a game, you wanted to go out, get drunk and dance in a dive bar with your friends and Alexia.

At first, that’s what the fights were about then it became fighting over everything. You left your shoes at the door: fight. Alexia dumped her kit bag in the hallway: fight. The dishwasher wasn’t turned on: fight.

After yet another, exhausting, stupid fight, you called it quits.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do want? Us?”

“Yes Alexia. All we do is fight. We are on different paths, doing different things in life. You don’t want what I want, I don’t want what you want. And that’s okay, you’ll find someone who will be more suited and I’ll find someone too.”

“No. No amor, we can work it out. Couples fight all the time. What about counselling?”

You can’t help the laugh that comes out, “we are twenty Ale. We don’t need counselling, we need to find who we are. Maybe we will come back to each other, maybe we won’t.”

“I don’t know how to love anyone else.”

There are many tears that night, as she watches you pack your stuff and say goodbye. Alba tells you how hard she’s taking the break up, how she returned her mother’s ring that her father proposed with. It’s hard and depressing so you do the one thing you thought was best, you leave.

A year after the breakup you move to England, freshly graduated from your International Affairs degree. It was easy to get a job, the Spanish Embassy in London needed Immigration Support workers so that’s what you.

For the next four years you worked hard, it was exhausting, mentally but you got through. Earning enough to buy a two bedroom flat in London, making new friends, most importantly, finding who you were without relying on someone else.

Most of the visits back home were brief, purposely so. You wanted to avoid Alexia. She was starting to become a high profile person, doing incredibly well within her sport. You were proud, of course, but you didn’t want anything to compromise that for her. So instead, you stayed away, hide your feelings that never left and carried on with your life.

Then you met Abigail. She loved you in ways that were different from Alexia. Things naturally progressed within the relationship, meeting the parents, moving in together, getting engaged, starting a family.

During Covid lockdown you had your baby girl. Ínes was the light of your life. Everything seemed to fall into place. Until it came crashing down.

Ínes’ second birthday party goes off accordingly. Your family fly from Spain to London, Abigail’s family are there too, friends you’ve made over the last eight years and ínes’ friends from daycare are there. It’s meant to be a joyful occasion, a little girl who is surrounded by family and friends but Abigail couldn’t keep it in her pants.

It’s your brother who finds them, he tells your friends, who finally, hours after, tell you. The woman you had your life with, that you were set to marry in six short months, was fucking her coworker in the bedroom you shared together.

For your daughter and those around, you put on a brave face. Instructions your brother and friends not to say anything but asking them to slyly pack a bag for you and Ínes. The plan at this point was to get out, stay at a hotel for the night and then figure it out from there.

It was embarrassing really. Abigail didn’t fight for you, your relationship or your daughter. She flaked on the days she was supposed to have Ínes, missed daycare pick ups and dance recitals. The only excuse you could come up with was simply that mummy was busy. But after a while, Ínes stopped asking, stopped begging for her other mother’s love and it was just the two of you.

The move back to Spain, to Mollet, wasn’t one you needed a lot of time to think over. Ínes wa young enough to make friends again, her Spanish and Catalan was perfect, her other mother had completely ghosted the both of you six months ago, so you were free to go. And you did.

For the first few months it as hard. You had to move back in with your parents, Ínes loved it and you were grateful for the free childcare but you were itching for your own house. A place with a backyard, close to her grandparents, to her school and ballet, and most importantly (if you asked Ínes) to her little kickers soccer.

Unfortunately for you, she’d fallen in love with the game. The game that caused your first heartbreak, the one you never really got over. And of course, like many other little girls, Alexia Putellas was her hero.

It wasn’t your Alexia anymore, fundamentally she was still the same. Thrilling in her game, content with her life, but now she was a household name, arguably the best female footballer ever. Your parents had taken her to a few games, your brother buying her the jersey she picked out and that proudly held the name and number of ALEXIA 11.

Sometimes you’d lay in bed, holding a sleeping Ínes, who was sporting her Barcelona Femeni jersey, thinking about how you wanted this to be your reality with Alexia. Secretly scrolling through her instagram, or the many photos from your youth. When Ínes was older, you’d explain why you wouldn’t go to the games, but for now she was too young.

The first of December marked the start of the Christmas season. Mollet held their annual Christmas tree lighting, Ínes was so incredibly excited for it. That’s when you saw her for the first time, it was from afar but it was her. Alexia was with Alba and a few of their friends. She looked happy, free, older but still as beautiful as ever.

It sparked something inside of you. Maybe it was anxiety or maybe it was jealousy. Your Mami had kept you updated on both Alexia and Alba, still seeing them semi regularly for the Sunday dinners. She never told you Alexia asked about you, or that she never told her about Ínes.

It was the night before Ínes’ fourth birthday that you saw her. Up close and in person.

ALEXIA:

10 years have passed and I still haven’t seen you since we broke each others hearts that one summer night.

I’m walking down the busy city street when I first see you. You had a gift bag in your hand with pink tissue paper. I come to a halt on the sidewalk, unable to move, people were cursing under their breaths, because of my sudden stop.

You keep walking towards me, still not noticing, until you did. For a second you seem not to recognise me, but I see it hit you the same way it did me.

You plaster a smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes, and come up to me and say hello. We exchange the normalcies and ask how to past ten years have been.

All I want to do is ask about the gift bag with the pink tissue paper. So I do.

“Who’s the gift for? Someone special?” I laugh even though I’m holding my breath waiting for the dreaded answer.

“Yeah someone very special.” You smile, a real smile, “my daughter. She turns four tomorrow.”

The words catch in my throat. I don’t know what to say. But I smile and tell you to wish her a happy birthday for me. I tell you I’ve got to get going, but I have all the time in the world really. You say goodbye, and for a second it seems that you have more to say.

As I continue down the street, away from you, all I can think about is your daughter. She probably has your eyes, your wild morning hair, your soft and loving heart. I wonder if she knows about me, about us.

I think about how I used to imagine it being our daughter you were buying gifts for.

———————————————————————————

I was shopping for Ínes’ daughter’s birthday present when I first see you. Standing there, frozen on the sidewalk, looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost.

It’s been 10 years but your face looks exactly that same way I remembered it. I could never forget. The freckles, the creases around your eyes and mouth from smiling and laughing. Those big, beautiful hazel eyes.

I smile and walk up to you. We talk like we haven’t spent the last 10 years missing each other, at least, that’s how I spent it.

You ask me “who’s the gift for? Someone special?” You laugh though, I can tell it’s not a genuine laugh, you’re scared for the answer.

“Yeah someone very special.” I respond, “my daughter. She turned 4 today.”

I can tell it catches you off guard, some emotion flashing across her face, one I can’t recognise. It takes a second for you to respond but then you do and say “wish her a happy birthday for me.”

I smile and you say you’ve got to get going. I try and hide the disappointment and I almost tell you something that’s probably too heavy for the distance that ten years has put between us.

So instead I just say goodbye. And I don’t tell you how much I still love you, or that I might have a daughter but I’m not married. And I certainly don’t tell you that my daughter’s name is a name we picked out together.

Instead, I watch you walk away down the street and I know I’ll be spending the rest of my life trying to find my way back to you.

ALEXIA———————————————————————-

It’s been two weeks since I saw you in the street, I still love you but you have a daughter and probably a wife, or at least a girlfriend.

Seeing you hurt more than I thought it would. I knew it would happen eventually, you grew up here, you loved it here. But nothing prepared me for it.

I was about to pour myself a large glass of wine, needing it after the conversation that was had with alba. But then my doorbell rings.

I answer, expecting a package but when I open it, my breath catches in my throat. You’re standing there, holding another gift bag with pink tissue paper.

“Um. Hi?” You say, looking more nervous than I am.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine. Can I come in?” You ask.

“Of course.” I don’t move. Watching you. “Yeah, sorry.” I curse myself for standing there like an idiot.

You hand me the mystery bag with pink tissue paper, “I wanted to give you this.”

My heart is beating out of my chest, I have no idea what is going on. Carefully, I take out the tissue paper, feeling your eyes on me. When my eyes land on it, they start to sting straight away. It’s the scrap book I made you for your birthday, twelve years ago.

“You still have this? How?” I ask.

“I could never bring myself to get rid of it.” You smile.

“But wouldn’t your wife be upset?” I ask

“My wife?” You were confused, I’m confused. “Oh no. My daughter’s mum and I never worked out.” You responded.

I had assumed that your heart was taken by another as soon as you told me you had a daughter. I never gave myself the chance to imagine otherwise. That would bring longing that would turn to hurt.

You continue, my heart beating through my chest, “that’s why I’m here.” The pause before you spoke again seemed to last for years. “Listen, I still love you. And even if you don’t feel the same, I had to tell you. I couldn’t go on without telling you or knowing if you felt the same.”

Every memory of us from the last twenty years came rushing back to my mind, at that very moment. There are so many things I want to say, but I can’t find the words.

“Everyday that I spent apart from you was like watching a piece of myself live without me, of course I still love you.”

The smile that appears on her face is the same smile that made me fall in love with her all those years ago. “I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making up for the past 10 years I didn’t get to love you.” She says.

I fall into her arms, overcome with the feeling of everything starting to come back together. “Oh I forgot to ask, what��s your daughter’s name?”

She just laughs lightly and smiles, pulling me back in.

It takes a while before you introduce Ínes to Alexia. At first it’s just as friends. As happy as Ínes is, she’s also annoyed that you kept that secret for ages.

Slowly but surely, your lives become intertwined again. It may have taken ten years but you found your way back to each other.

#fcb femení #alexia x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas fanfic

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 11 months ago

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Face it dear, you need someone like me.

Synopsis: You live a happy life with your husband, Ralph, who never notices you running off in the middle of the night to a certain radio host…

Warnings: Cheating, NSFW under the cut! Alastor being Alastor! Oh and Human Alastor because he will always be my fav <33

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event )

You lived a quiet life. Your husband Ralph was more than enough. He worked in construction and was busy all morning and into the late hours of the night, getting home at eight p.m sharp every evening. The two of you had a lovely marriage, some would say picture perfect even. A small house, living in the city. What more could you ask for?

Well maybe some alone time. Or financial security. But hey you can’t have it all right?

You hadn’t intended on cheating on your husband. Hell you didnt even want to get involved with Alastor, he was just a colleague. But, he had so sweetly convinced you to go dancing with him one night after your husband knocked out on the couch. Sneaking out was easy when he slept like a log and honestly? It was the best night of your life. You felt alive. Like things were okay. You felt so pretty in your dress, with your hair done up. The two of you had even shared a flask on your way back to your home.

But then Alastor turns down the wrong street, and now you’re on his doorstep, the both of you fiddling with the lock, trying not to pull away from each other even though you both need air. But everything felt so good, so right. When he finally opens the door to his home you both stumble in, giggling all the way. He hazardously removes your coat, letting it drop to the floor as he does the same with his. You kick your heels off, while he does the same with his. Garments are tossed as you both make your way up the stairs, sliding into walls and becoming an entangled mess of laughter. His hands are everywhere they shouldn’t be, and yours remain wrapped around his shoulders, manicured nails raking through his hair as the kisses descend from your lips down the side of your neck, where he bites down ever so slightly. He kicks the door to his bedroom open wider, the two of you walking in as he sits you on the bed, pulling back to see your face. Lips are swollen, and the red lipstick you had worn for him was smudged off the side of your lip. The marks down the side of your neck were beginning to form despite only being made moments ago, but he’s a passionate lover who loves to leave his mark on things.

No, you hadn’t intended on cheating on your husband. But he was so gentle with you, so warm and loving, his touch lit you ablaze like if you were a forest fire. Feeling something felt amazing, and he felt all the better.

No, you didn’t want to cheat on your husband. You didn’t plan on taking your lunch breaks just to walk around the park with Alastor. That wasn’t done intentionally, it just happened. The same way everything else did.

You didnt want to cheat on your husband, but when he knocks three times on your door nine thirty you know it’s Alastor. You don’t even think twice before leaving to spend the night with your favorite man. A man who isn’t your husband.

You dont like cheating on your husband. No, not when you hear him talk about how much he wants to start a family with you. How painfully you have to smile back at him, knowing you aren’t even interested in sleeping in the same bed as him anymore. What a cellophane Alastor called him.

“That man is undeserving of you dear. When are you going to be honest with yourself hm?”

He’d say, at the worst damn time too. Slotted perfectly between your legs, asking you these things when your mind is nothing but mush because of him. But isn’t that the best part? Because it’s him you’re doing all this for. It’s Alastor you choose to spend your nights with, and that makes him want you so much more. So you could imagine his pain when he knocked three times and you didn’t answer. No, not when he heard those sweet sounds of yours from the other side of the door. How dare you.

Yes, Ralph was your husband. But Alastor was so much better than him, it was almost hard to fake it. “I love you so much Y/n.” Your husband said with a sigh, sleep finally taking over his body. You just nod, feeling guilty. No, you don’t like cheating on your husband. But how are you supposed to feel when your husband doesn’t feel like your husband anymore? When he feels like a man you sleep with so he doesn’t become angry with you? You gather yourself together quickly, not even recognizing the time, and shut your bedroom door quietly. You make your way to the kitchen in a robe, and almost jump out of your skin when you see Alastor standing next to the counter with a cup of tea in his hand.

“Alastor…- Alastor I-“ You were at a loss for words. How did he even get in?

“Tell me, my dear. Why won’t you leave him?”

Alastor asks, setting his hot cup down on the counter. His smile doesn’t change, but it’s thin. You know he’s upset with you. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to, break the news to him.” You say, looking down. Alastor scoffs, pushing off the counter to walk towards you.

“Do you love him?”

Alastor asks, stopping a few feet away from you. “I do…but-“

“No. Do you love him?”

Alastor asks again. He knows the answer. You both do. “No. No I don’t.” You whisper to yourself, tears brimming your eyes. Alastor smiles wider now.

“Then why do you let him use you? You know he isn’t half as good with you as I am.”

He says, getting close enough to take your hands in his. Tears fall from your face, and Alastor coo’s as he wipes your tears.

“I don’t want to hurt him.” You say, sighing. Alastor just smiles.

“Why don’t,”

He says, moving to tilt your face to look at him. He smiles as you stare at him teary eyed, and though usually he’d love it, right now he wants that sad look gone.

“You get your things, and why don’t we leave?”

Alastor asks. You stare at him wide eyed. “Leave? But, my home-“ Alastor tut’s at you, pulling away from you to walk back to his place by the counter. You stand there, shocked.

“Do you really need to stay?”

Alastor asks with a laugh.

“Darling, you’ve already hurt him enough.”

He says, hoping that will snap you out of it. When he see’s you still, stuck there, he pinches the bridge of his nose, glasses moving up.

“He can’t give you what I can.”

He says, and you shake your head.

“Alastor he’s been a good man to me. I can’t just-“

“Can’t what? Sleep with another man and then try to act like you’re perfect? Dear you and I both know we are far from perfect.”

Alastor says, and it hurts because you know he’s right. You’ve already hurt your husband, so why are you still sticking around as if you care?

“He’s been there for me through so much. He needs me.”

You say in a low voice. You didn’t think this would hurt you this much.

“What about what you need?”

Alastor asks, studying your features closely. He walks back to you again, this time pulling you closer to meet him halfway. This time you’re forced to look at him. He gets closer to your face, and you hate the way you feel butterflies when his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“Face it dear, you need someone like me.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #alastor #hellaverse

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 year ago

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Bubbles 💜 (Part 1)

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook's Entry

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt

PARTS: [1] [2]

(You can also read it on AO3)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smile at your best friend and follow her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music is making your rib cage hum comfortably, and you sit on a couch before she turns to you again.

“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nod and watch her go as you take the space around you comfortably. The other girls are chatting, cross-checking who’s there tonight and who they know. You’re used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You don’t know them because you’ve been away for a while, but you trust your dearest friend to keep good company around.

Either way, you’re there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You take a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplate dancing. Everyone else is already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd, and you’ll join them soon enough.

The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat, making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious envy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied, and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered, and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip, and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” You ask with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” the other girls turned to hear more, and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly.

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said, almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if we’re the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumor is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Your best friend looked at you quizzically, and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours, but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him, and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggie. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.

Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry, and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer, and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.

You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl, and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.

But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order, and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me too, will you?”

He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched, and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter, and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card, and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment he needed to grab his drink and chug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you close your eyes for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender returning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here.”

It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused, or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes were focused on the drink, and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked, and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed paths before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second, but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you, and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand.

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was free-fall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance, and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?”

You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react, but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelop you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear, and you froze. But he said nothing, and so you sighed.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, and nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment.

His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair, but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply.

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair, and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth.

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. But you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the risk of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming. But you were never brave, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving.

It was chilly outside, but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing, you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off, and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm, and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—

Familiar dark eyes faced you back, and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along, and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him.

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner hidden by a parked car. Your back hit the wall, and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way.

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck, and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him, but he slapped your hands away harshly. You didn’t have time to react, though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall.

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours, and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline, and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer; you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not, you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session.

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead. He searched for your panties, only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, shoving his cock fully into you, and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place, and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest.

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull you to kiss him, and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even breathe right. Maybe it aggravated him, or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly, he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and biting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you. You fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds, you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist and leaned in a special angle. It allowed him to hold you firmly against the wall and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he reached deep inside you had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open, and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him, he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock, and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You took your hands to his over your chest, and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world, as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his climax, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck, and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left with a stronger doubt.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom, and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes.

He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again, but you didn't argue. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults, and he followed you. There was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving zero fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted, and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible.

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as only he made you feel.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before, when you were still together, but there was a certain magic to it. Even some things changed, he didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you, and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You asked in a bit of a shout as he looked at the road to finally get going.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. You inhaled his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder; the helmet was big, and he surely felt it. You palmed his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations, and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where you were going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex, it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet as you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby. Then, you got inside one, and he pressed the seventh floor. Even when the doors closed with only the two of you there, you stayed quiet.

Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that. Your chest could have exploded. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door, and you followed him inside. You left your cheekiness outside, in the night, right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but this space didn’t remind you of Jungkook like you expected it to.

You had only taken one step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You moved out of the way to switch places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed you to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were grabbing him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged, and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him and your body was arching to expose more skin. You were taking what you could, and you’d give back whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes, only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before.

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating, and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth riled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you, but never moved away.

His breathing was calming down, and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair behind his ear.

He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here, and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed, and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed, “You brought me here, so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched, and she nodded, “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before lowering to his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff, and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first.”

He backed away from you, and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them, didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and walked towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading, whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him tonight. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice, and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him, and wondered what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it, instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket, but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing scrunch of your face — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room, and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug, and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soy milk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before lying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.

Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black espresso.

He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, about to have your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—

Your chin trembled, but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed, and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You neared the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before; you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly. Just for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew, and it made no sense, but you were still there, and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took the mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower faintly in the background. His place was bigger now, and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same gray bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile; he spoke for ages about wanting to do that if he ever moved out of his previous place. But as you took in the rest of the apartment, your smile broke a little.

On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to take a look at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook, but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when he sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him. You wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door open; you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel long abandoned somewhere, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and big arms, and chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you; tense features on a tense body.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down on the kitchen counter. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours spelled your pleasure at his whim, while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.

Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly, and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only, and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just as he nibbled your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you to get on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck, while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt, and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

The, he stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes observing you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he got back between your legs while getting on his knees was in line with what you knew. He, in a praying position, tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you, was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted it. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth could move on you, how his tongue could lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side, and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted; you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed, and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare to rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain, and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable, slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centimeter right— No! Just one or two to the left, and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

He licked you faster in a way that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge, and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there, just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you quietly, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dug into your hips. Your worry clouded your judgement, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard, he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained, or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, with wet hair dripping down his shoulders; the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck, did you miss seeing him falling apart. You craved it and you’d make it happen.

You kept licking and kissing, and as you moved up his shaft, it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t cum. It didn’t matter that he had given up, or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as his taste hit your buds, and your thoughts became a blur. Your head bobbed mindlessly, and you drooled all over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your hair but remained light as a feather, until finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him, and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.

You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure, and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips, and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, and he wasn’t rejecting you. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.

“I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you pressed your lips to his forehead, “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond, and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck, and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest, and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still, and sighed when he pressed your lower back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy, and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it, and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention exclusively there.

So you hissed and sighed, with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard dick. Your spit hadn’t dried yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitched moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped, and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You preferred if he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper, and your tits bounce around, then he moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it.

He neared you while rolling a condom, and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip, and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed, half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance, and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire burning through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass, but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you were full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you earlier, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips into yours, and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression, telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?”

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out, but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense. You wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard, you whimpered a cry. But in a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars, and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.”

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your ass cheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap, but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other ass cheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror, you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too riled up to stop.

“Looking for what? Any thigh cunt?” He was getting sloppy, and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm, and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause, until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly, and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes, and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him, and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was.

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent, and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want it to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Cum with me.”

He grunted his words before kissing you, and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck, just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed, but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He held you into his chest as he covered you both with a sheet, and you could swear that it was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

739 notes · View notes

holyblonded · 2 months ago

Text

consequences of my actions | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: paige and kenza have to deal with the repercussions of the night before

warnings: none(?)

notes: italics are spanish or Catalan; sorry for the wait i needed a break after the results of the election (we are cooked!) ��

THE FEELING ON THE SUN AND THE SOFT HUM OF WHATEVER JULIO IGLESIAS SONG WAS CURRENTLY PLAYING, WOKE PAIGE UP FROM HER PEACEFUL SLUMBER.

Paige could tell she was in Kenza's apartment as the distinct aroma of coco butter and lavender circulated the room. The blonde's feet touched the cold floor and she was greeted by the few month old Cane Corso puppy that she and Kenza rescued from a frat house. Paige picked up Draco and carried him to the living area where Kenza was making breakfast. Setting the dog down to eat, Paige snuck up and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

"You always wake up so early," Paige complained as she glimpsed at the clock that read 7:24am. "Even on your off days."

Kenza smiled and she transferred the seasoned scrambled eggs to the plate and moved on to cook the salmon. "You know I need my early morning run."

Paige did know that, as it was a habit the girl picked up from her Mami. Kenza and Diana wake up bright and early at 5am to go for a daily run. Whenever her Diana held basketball camps, the same ones Paige attended, the camp would go on the run and it's safe to say Paige is not a morning person. Paige also knew she kept these runs up in Barcelona when she would send her morning pictures of her running to a cafe to get a drink.

Shaking her head at the thought, Paige kissed Kenza's cheek before going to the record player and changing the vinyl to The Supremes. Kenza laughed when Paige danced her was back to island where Kenza set their food down.

Paige grabbed Kenza's hand and pulled the girl to her before anchoring her free hand on the brunette's waist. The pair danced to Someday We'll Be Together. As Paige looked down at Kenza laughing as they clumsily tripped over their feet many times

The two sat at Kenza's island eating area, the freshly cooked breakfast, and the sunlight that streamed through the blinds and onto their skin. Paige's eyes seemed to unintentionally pierce through Kenza's soul while admiring her.

"Paige, you're gonna piss me all the way off if you keep staring at me,” Kenza said in such a sweet tone, "Wack ass blue eyes."

Paige couldn't help but laugh at the out of pocket comment before standing up and taking their plates to the sink. "I hear you, Kenny but we gotta go to the vet remember."

IMESSAGE

real madrid haters 🦅

pro yapper (jaheem)

gavi lover (leo)

mind witch (erykah)

evil twin (gavi)

lioness

KENZ

DID YOU SEE TSR

evil twin

I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SEND IT

pro yapper

aye kenza you gotta get your

lick back and punch that nigga

evil twin

i’m with jaheem

mind witch

NOT THE CURRENT

CONCERN

lioness

ONG

EVERYONE THINKS

YOU AND PAIGE ARE DATING

.... are you 👀

pro yapper

wait a cotton picking minute

they weren't dating all this time?

lioness

...why are you even the gc 🫥

KENZ RESPOND

pro yapper

y'all know she ain't gonna

respond

she's at the vet rn

check her lo

mind witch

WHY DIDNT YOU SAY

THAT EARLIER

pro yapper

alr y'all gonna piss me off

Kenza sighed as she was on the phone with her manager that was rapidly speaking Catalan. Kenza toyed with a magazine at the vet's office, waiting for Draco.

"Caterina, please calm down. You're in town at the office, right? I'll swing by after the vet appointment and we can get it all sorted out, mkay?" Kenza responded in Catalan and decided not to give the older woman a chance to respond. "Great! Bye, love you." Kenza hung up and threw her head back with a groan, running her hands across her face. She glanced at her phone, seeing the Barcelona group chat blow up, likely teasing the baby of the group about the situation. Kenza looked across the room where Paige stood, seemingly dealing with the same situation with her manager.

"Draco has officially gotten his five month shots," the vet announced to Paige and Kenza. With Paige still on the phone, Kenza got up to grab Draco who was seemingly excited as he got a new toy.

"Draco! Were you a good boy?" Kenza crouched down to pet the overly energetic dog as he basically tried to climb her.

"Just make sure to schedule his next appointment," the vet told Paige, who just got off the phone and was standing behind Kenza and Draco.

The pair thanked the vet and strolled to the Kenza's Porsche Cayenne in the parking garage. Paige opened the door for Kenza before putting Draco in her lap.

"My manager and your manager want to meet together," Paige told the girl as she started the car. Paige always drove when it was just her and Kenza. Mostly because Paige was afraid of the way Kenza drove, but also for safety purposes.

Kenza groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day, "Who even recorded that video? This is dumb."

"You come to America to further your education. Yet somehow, you get into more trouble here than Barcelona!" Caterina scolded Kenza like a toddler who drew on the walls. Caterina has been Kenza's manager since she started at La Masia and started to see Kenza as her first born after a while. That being said, whenever Kenza made poor decisions, she got a lecture not only from Alexia but Caterina too. "Nena, do you need another media training course? Because you might be asking for it at this point!"

Kenza stayed silent ask Paige and her manager walked in, making Caterina take a seat, "After this, you will call Alexia and explain to her."

Kenza's head shot up to look her manager in the eye for the first time since she got there. "Cat, no."

"Paige, Kenza, while the situation that occurred isn't a big deal when you look at it, the media has made it one. But, we have found a way to turn this into positive press." Caterina started, crossing her legs, "Both fanbases seem to like you together and we are going to profit on that. In order to outweigh the negativity of the situation, the two of you are going to fake date."

#golden girl series #barca femini x reader #paige bueckers x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas x teen!reader #fc barcelona #barcelona femeni

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burntheedges · 4 months ago

Text

Roll-A-Trope Challenge Masterlist

Y'all the response to this challenge blew me away!! 🥺🥰 We are going to have so many amazing fics to read! 🧡 Check here for all of the character/trope pairings from when people joined.

I'll link each one as they're posted. Under the cut you'll soon find fics for Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Din Djarin, Dio Morrissey, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Max Phillips, Nathan Landry, Oberyn Martell, Pero Tovar, and Tim Rockford! And so many amazing tropes!!

Last updated: 12/3 | Fic count: 54!

Dave York

Audience of One by @katareyoudrilling | 3k | Dave x f!reader Trope: famous person AU

Can You Remember Who You Were? by @punkshort | 9.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Danger Zone by @almostempty | 6k | Dave x Lana Kane (you) x Sterling Archer (crossover with Archer (TV)) Trope: snowed in

Down Bad by @schnarfer | 6.1k | Dave x f!reader | part 2 Trope: only one bed (and bonus, it's a coffee shop AU!)

It's Only Make Believe by @jennaispunk | 7k | Dieter x f!actress!reader Trope: fake dating

Sunshine & Rainbows by @jeewrites | 10.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: amnesia

Dieter Bravo

Broken Hearts Mended by @bitchesuntitled | 6.1k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: time travel

Just like the Picture by @nerdieforpedro | 936 | Dieter x gn!reader Trope: landlord

Teleportation and Blue Whiskey (part 1) by @davnittbraes | 1.5k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

this protector by @perotovar | 3.1k | Dieter x Din Trope: only one bed

Din Djarin

Familiar yet Foreign by @whxtedreams | 3.7k | Din x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

New Home (Part 1) by @weirdoneattheparty | 2.1k | Din x f!reader Trope: friends to lovers

something worse by @corazondebeskar-reads | 3.2k | Din x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

The Long Way Round by @din-cognito | 3.17k | Din x gn!reader Trope: road trip

Dio Morrissey

Crimes Against Each Other by @crowandmousewritingco | 2.9k | Dio x trans!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Ezra (Prospect)

To Leave the Green by @cas-readsandwrites | 2k | Ezra & Cee, gen Trope: time loop

Frankie Morales

a kiss, my panacea by @skittlesfics | 917 | Frankie x gn!reader Trope: sickfic

Better Love by @docharleythegeekqueen | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: snowed in

Dreamers (part 1) by @beefrobeefcal | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: soulmates | now with Part 2!

Forever starts tonight by @sawymredfox | 3.6k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: pining

GOING DOWN by @aurorawritestoescape | 3.4k | Frankie x f!reader and Joel x f!reader Trope: exes

I Like You A Latte by @inept-the-magnificent | 752 | Frankie x f!reader Trope: coffee shop AU

I'm Yours by @ashleyfilm | 3.2k | Frankie x reader Trope: secret relationship

To Feel Your Body Against Mine by @flightlessangelwings | 4.5k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

Jack Daniels

If I should die before you do by @maggiemayhemnj | 1.7k | Jack x f!reader trope: soulmates

Life's a Dance by @wordywarriorwrites | 2k | Jack x reader Trope: didn't know they were dating

Lucid Dreams by @fhatbhabiee | 3.2k | Jack x reader Trope: friends to lovers

Javi Gutierrez

Things You Knew by @eff4freddie | 8k | Javi G x reader Trope: soulmates

To Make a Day for You by @yopossum | 3k? | Javi G x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

Javier Peña

3 sides of a man by @milla-frenchy | 3.3k | Javi x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

between two floors by @glowingxeyes | 1k | Javi x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator | there’s a part 2 and 3!

GOING DOWN by @almostfoxglove | 3.3k | Javi P x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

good guys, bad deeds by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer | 3.9k | Javi x f!reader Trope: only one bed

Joel Miller

Birds of a Feather by @whocaresstillthelouvre | 5.3k | Joel x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Besties by @butterphii | >1k | Joel x f!reader

drive by @kedsandtubesocks | 2k | Joel x f!reader Trope: road trip

For Better or Worse by @captainredspade | Joel x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

Fragile State by @galway-girlatwork | 2.5k | Joel x OFC!Tara Trope: amnesia

Galway Girl by @yxtkiwiyxt | 7k | Joel x f!reader | part 2!! Trope: soulmates

If You're Reading This by @crowandmousewritingco | 4.5k | Joel x nb!reader Trope: epistolary

It Had To Be You by @jobean12-blog | 4.8k | Joel x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Wish by @hotgirlbedtimescenarios | 1.7k Trope: time travel

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the stars by @the-mandawhor1an | 2.7k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: time travel

Marcus Moreno

Through Every Lifetime by @joelalorian | 4.5k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Marcus Pike

Pike's Place by @pedges-world | Marcus x reader Trope: snowed in | series!!

Max Phillips

A Little Broken by @clawdeewritesfanfic | 3.2k | Max x f!reader Trope: pining

Time After Time by @grogusmum | drabble | Max x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Nathan Landry

consensus ad idem by @sunshinehaze1 | 4.9k | Nathan x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Oberyn Martell

sweet and sour by @iamasaddie | 5.5k | Oberyn x f!reader Trope: fake relationship

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 9 months ago

Text

Paper Rings - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 750 Summary: Signs of you are all over Joel's bedroom in Jackson. Warnings: Smut, slight somnophilia, drinking.

Masterlist

Thank you to @beskarandblasters for the amazing Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, I picked Lover because I've been listening to a lot more of it as the weather begins to get warmer. "Paper Rings" is definitely not my favorite Taylor song, but oh my god I LOVED writing this about Joel, it fits perfectly for him.

***

The story of your romance with Joel Miller could be told with just one look around his bedroom.

The picture frame on his dresser with a picture that you painted of the two of you the night you met.

It was quite a meeting, a quick slip on the ice as you stepped off the curb on your way to the Tipsy Bison to celebrate Tommy’s birthday, Joel jumping towards you to catch you. His hand grabbing your blue jacket’s shoulder before you fell into the large pool of water leftover from the melting snow. You both making your way to the Bison together, his handsome face taking your breath away once you saw him in the light of the high moon. You became fast friends, urged on by Tommy and Maria’s matchmaking. Your friendship accidentally turning into something more after a night of drinking and dancing together in Joel’s kitchen. The two of you sharing your first kiss as you slowly swayed along to a Neil Young record. The kiss turning heated, turning into Joel taking you from behind as you gripped his kitchen countertop.

The books you’ve read stacked up on the table beside your side of the bed. Your favorite chapters marked with the bookmarks you made.

He’d always try to bring you home a book to make up for how early he’d have to leave for patrol on Monday mornings, the day always being more sad and dreary due to his absence. He’d always succeed at not waking you up until he’d kiss you goodbye. He found it hard to control himself when he’d hear you let out a small sleep drunk moan as his lips touched yours. Some mornings he could manage it and walk away, and others he’d be late to the stables, leaving you satiated and smiling after gently fucking you in the light of dawn.

The comforter rumpled on the floor in the corner, left there from when Joel threw it off the bed last night before he made love to you.

Your glass is still sitting on the coffee table half full of wine, the thought of finishing it out of your mind once Joel began kissing your neck. You were teasing each other all day, playing a game of cat and mouse. Biding your time until both of you couldn’t take it, Joel stalking behind you up the steps as he threw his shirt off and started unbuttoning his jeans.

The t-shirt of Joel’s you wear to bed with the large blue paint stain on it from the time you helped him paint Tommy’s house.

He loves to see you in it, your body filling it out in places he loves to touch. He loves how you smell of him whenever you wear it, how it sits against your smooth skin. He loves it when you ride him while wearing it, seeing his clothes on his girl as you grind your hips.

The sheets on the bed always on your side, Joel sleeps warm, he never needs a blanket.

You like to watch him sleep, his face more at peace, his breathing relaxed and slow. A small grunt usually escaping his mouth when he turns away from you, followed by a hum of contentment when you wrap your arm around him. Sometimes you’ll wake up before him just to watch the rise and fall of his chest quicken as you take his cock into your mouth. Joel always waking up thinking he was having a dirty dream until he looks down and meets your eyes staring up at him. A small half smile as he realizes what comes next, his tired eyes growing larger with lust.

The jewelry hung from the hooks surrounding the mirror above his dresser.

The mirror that Joel loves to watch himself kiss you in. Sometimes because you had a long night. Sometimes because it’s the best way he knows to tell you it’s gonna be alright. Sometimes because he waited his whole life for you. He loves to stand behind you and watch his reflection touch you, he loves watching you gasp as he sticks his hand down your pants.

The paper rings on each of your nightstands.

Joel secretly teaching himself how to fold them as a way to surprise you until he could find a ring that would fit you. He just couldn’t wait to make you his wife.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #taylor swift #paper rings #tlou fanfic #tlou joel

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scoutswritingcorner · 9 months ago

Note

i got two things; would u ever add more characters to the helluva boss list??

second thing was my request lol :3

can i get a blitzø x gn!sinner!reader headcanons where reader is so down on their luck that they are applying to randoms jobs and the only one that got back to them was I.M.P lol and the slow progression of their relationship to becoming lovers :D

Pure Luck Or Dumb Luck?

Blitzø x GN!Reader

TW: FLUFF- A mention of a little nsfw but nothing explicit

A/n: Blitz! Our favorite Boss! And to answer your question, yes I will! I’m just writing out for the gang first so I can get used to writing for the characters before I move onto other characters!

Let me set the scene:

You recently had been fired from your last job for punching a customer who had been harassing you lately. It was well deserved but it had landed you in the unemployment category of working. So you applied to every single work ad you could get your hands on. They all rejected you except for one that had been the infamous, I.M.P! Maybe not so infamous..but they do amazing jobs, you’ve heard and you got an interview to go to THE NEXT DAY?!?!?

-🐴 Well fast forward- you do land the interview but depending if you know how to kill or shoot a gun depends if you need training. By training I mean going out in the human world and killing to get you over your nerves. Blitz is strict but fair with this. If you want to be out on the field, you have to kill. If not he can let you be the receptionist with Loona or the janitor! They need one badly- dried blood is hard to get out of the wooden floors and carpets.

-🐴Now! If you do need training, he’s gonna send Millie and Moxxie with you, the sweetest people to help and can validate your feelings on taking a life. Moxxie understands the hesitation.

-🐴 Blitz isn’t stupid (he can be but shh), he knows a good killer when he sees one (and a hottie). Now he won’t hold your hand during missions especially if you can handle yourself but if you still got some jitters in you about killing? He’ll give you an easy target to kill.

-🐴After a few months into the job? He starts to become friendlier with you, like instead of sending you out to get coffee? He asks if you want coffee and then asks if you can go get it cause he’s out of money. He’ll pay you back! (I mean at least he’s asking instead of yelling at you to go get it)

-🐴I swear he does become nicer over time but it takes so long cause he has trust issues.

-🐴 But once you do become his friend or best friend as he puts it, oh boy he’s clinging to you and not letting go. You get so many privileges that no one else does and it's a blessing but a curse. Cause you get to know what he’s thinking all the time and then he tells you all of his horses names.

-🐴You start catching feelings for him and realize it at midnight when your alone in your bed. Your feelings go from “oh fuck-” to “I’d bang him” IN SECONDS- The whiplash is real.

-🐴Blitzo? Falls harder and he only realizes it when you bring him to a horse show and he’s watching you instead of the horses. But what really solidifies it for him? Is when you're able to talk your way into allowing Blitzo to ride and take pictures with the horses.

-🐴 He won’t shut up about you when your not in the office, like you’d leave to go pick up lunch for everyone and as soon as you walk out the door. “Have you noticed how hot they are?” “Sir-”

-🐴Millie ships it so fucking hard. But because he doesn’t want to admit it and you probably think he won’t reciprocate your feelings, it’s a whole dance for a LONG time. Moxxie is about to rip his fucking hair out- while initially he didn’t care for it much- he’s as much as invested as his wife is. JUST FUCKING KISS PLEASE-

-🐴 Loona is in on it too but she has a betting pool going with Millie. She’s either gonna be fifty bucks richer or out of fifty bucks.

-🐴Either way it will be a long ass time before you end up pulling him into a kiss one night. Maybe you both were at your place watching a movie or you were out on the town with him and he’s walking you back to your apartment.

-🐴 It ends up with you waking up in the morning curled up in your bed with your head on his bare chest. You abruptly wake him up by shaking him awake and staring at him cause you just slept with your best friend who is also your boss??

-🐴 this ends up with a huge talk and you both realize your feelings are mutual and POOF you’re dating.

-🐴This silly little Imp loves kisses and going on fun but not expensive dates! That doesn’t mean he won’t spoil the shit out of you cause he will! But he likes it when you are both relaxed and having fun.

-🐴Now he tries to keep your relationship out of work (despite working together) but he swoons or cheers you on if you get a kill or you are just being protective. His tail curls into a little heart.

-🐴 Wear his clothes if you can- especially his leather jacket it makes him puff his chest out in pride. He will wear your clothes, especially your shirts when he goes to bed or if you have a break!

-🐴Oh boy! He’s a jealous little imp! Not because he doesn’t trust you, it's because he doesn't think highly of himself and will often try to push you away. Don’t let that scare you, just hug him close.

#helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss blitz #blitz x reader #blitzo x reader

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writingsofwesteros · 5 months ago

Note

Now it’s confirmed Aegon is sleeping with the men as well in the dragon belongs to dorne, please can we have a lil Drabble about his first time with like his princesses favourite lover - like I’m picturing pedro pascal as Oberon 🩷 and his princess is so sweet just reassuring him whilst Aegon just can’t take his eyes off of his tanned glistening muscles

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

NOTE: Thank you all for the lovely asks, ideas and add ons to AU's. They make my day and I thought I would drop this earlier to say thank you xx

“I had heard he was a sweet one, Princess…” Aegon fought back a shiver at the deep voice moving over him. The soft blush that seemed to always be on his cheeks now made itself known. His Princess’ lovers always teased him for it. “Oh, he is very much so sweet, so eager to please as well.” The Princess hummed as she slowly placed herself behind Aegon. Her soft hands slowly moved over his thin, cotton tunic and began to undo the tie that was loosely around his waist. Aegon’s heart skipped as he nearly gasped aloud before he controlled himself. Still, the Princess giggled into his ear. Her fingers brushed through those bright locks of hers before leaning closer. Their noses brushing together for a moment.

Soon their lips met in a passionate kiss as her hand reached the back of his neck; deepening the kiss as their tongues danced. It caused him to be distracted as his tunic fell to the floor with ease. His cock twitched; hardening now as she nibbled on his bottom, plump lip. Those bright eyes of his widened at the feel of another hand on his chest. A chest that was not as muscular as the man before him. But his wife to be adored how soft he was, she had said so herself on so many occasions that Aegon believed her. His head fell away at the feel of a larger hand moving to cup his twitching cock. His wife whispered sweet nothings to calm him as the Prince finally turned to her lover. A smirk was what greeted him as his larger hand began to stoke up and down Aegon’s fat cock.

“They were not exaggerating the Targaryen beauty,” he purred; watching with amusement as Aegon ducked his head. A whimper escaped the Prince as he watched the larger man move to his knees and he could not stop his eyes widening. “I think you deserve such a treat, you are such a good boy.” The Princess of Dorne cooed into his ear. Those soft, pink lips of his began to part but any words to be spoken were completely lost to him as the soft, hot mouth of the knight moved up his twitching length. He could not help but cling to the Princess as his cock began to leak. His hands reached into those brown locks as his mouth engulfed Aegon’s pretty cock with ease.

A soft moan escaped the knight as the vibrations brushed over Aegon’s cock and he could not stop his hips rocking eagerly. “Good boy, hmm, so good for us.” She whispered the praises she knew he adored listening to. Those eyes of his moved down her body as her hand slowly reached between her thighs as her own arousal peaked. His head fell back against the wall as his cock was burrowed completely into his hot mouth. His stomach began to tighten now. The knight watched as the pretty boy in front of him began to lose his composure; not that he had it for long, he thought to himself with a smirk. Aegon couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer as they fluttered shut.

“Oh–ah, “ His body arched from the wall as the knight’s hand had slowly snaked around his body and spread his cheeks apart. Aegon groaned as his cock was sucked on; the man’s head bobbing up and down with practised ease. His hand came down on his arse; the slap sounding out as the knight moved from his cock. “Turn around, pretty boy.” The knight purred as the sound of his Princess’ giggles echoed in the room once more. Aegon could only gasp as he fought back control of the pleasure that had been teasing him. “Do you still want this , my love?” She whispered into his ear; always seeking his response even after all this time.

“Yes..please..” Aegon nibbled at his bottom lip as he slowly turned his head to lock eyes with her. “So good to me.” She cooed; brushing their noses together. Their lips soon met once more as the knight pressed his weight against the Prince. “Oh..oh gods,” Aegon gasped out as the fat cock began to press deep inside him. “Shh, there you go..” He whispered; pressing soft, open mouthed kisses down Aegon’s neck as he shivered. Aegon had never felt so full as he began to wiggle. His hands reached for the wall as if to steady himself. “God, you are tight.” The knight grunted in his ear before softly nibbling at it. The sensations alone had the Prince rolling his eyes.

Slowly, the Knight began to rock his hips; pushing an inch deeper each time as Aegon groaned out in pleasure. His body shook at the feel of his Princess’ soft hand moving to his throbbing cock; his mushroom head already leaking. Her thumb brushed across him and this time his eyes fell shut completely. The whispers of praise came over him with ease, which only had Aegon whimpering some more as his body began to rock against the knight. The Princess only cooed some more as her stroking quickened, as did the knight’s thrusts. “He may just be my favourite,” he purred, causing Aegon to blush so prettily once more.

“He is mine.” His Princess whispered before their lips were meeting; her tongue pushing in without invitation. Aegon whimpered against her soft lips as his stomach began to tighten in anticipation. The knight’s fat cock pushing against his soft spot that nobody had ever reached before. His legs shook as their names so sweetly fell from his lips. It was only a moment later that his orgasm ripped through him. His cum was soon coating the Princess’ pretty fingers as he grunted her name. Her lips were soon upon his as the knight only rocked his hips still. His own release was close. Aegon was in a complete mess; the intense pleasure still simmering just under the surface.

The knight’s soft lips pressed on his neck as the Prince only shivered some more. His Princess cooed as she slowly moved in front of him; trapped between her husband to be and the wall. Aegon’s eyes widened as her soft hand moved to cup his twitching, sensitive cock. “Please..I , ah..” The Prince hardly knew what he was begging for as she guided his cock into her weeping pussy.

#aegon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #dragon belongs to dorne #request

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mythorhuman · 4 months ago

Text

When We Sleep

“There you are, my love.” Klaus welcomed her with a heated kiss.

“Where else would I be?” flirted Bonnie with a seductive grin. Like a good gentleman, Klaus offered her his arm and she took it easily. It was a familiar motion. Walking with the man she loved always felt right.

“I am always flattered that you choose to spend your nights with me,” crooned Klaus. His girl was a stunner and no other could compare. She radiated light even in her little black dress. Bonnie had every reason to avoid him, yet she chose Klaus over the rest. He wouldn't take it for granted.

Klaus led her away from the smoky entrance and toward the bar where he ordered her a drink. He always knew what she wanted. Somehow, the man she'd known for a short while, knew more about her than those she called family. “If I'm being honest, I prefer your company to that of the others,” praised Bonnie.

“I am honored to have the privilege of showing you a good time.”

“The music is incredible tonight.”

“I knew you'd be eager to hear it.” His Bonnie was quite the dancer. Once she knocked back her drink, he extended a hand to escort her onto the dance floor as a slower tune played.

“The music is one of the best things about this time,” grinned Bonnie as she swayed in her man’s arms. Dance was her secret passion. She’d taken lessons from a young age at a school out of town for she didn't want to compete against her friends. Their competitive nature was too much for her, so she kept her dreams of being a professional performer to herself. That was true until she confided in Klaus.

“Better than the rap music of today?” mused Klaus.

“Nik, you're breaking character.” Bonnie rolled her eyes. Every dream they shared was different. Together, each night they built a new world where anything was possible. Klaus designed this dream as a do-over for their awful experience at the 1920s dance.

“My apologies Bonnie. I was distracted by your alluring beauty.”

“You're such a flatterer.”

“Only for you,” grinned Klaus as he spun her quickly before pulling her back into his arms.

Bonnie laid her head on his chest. In these dreams, he had a heartbeat that drummed to the same rhythm as hers. They were connected; mentally, physically, and emotionally. The stolen kisses and secret sleepovers where they made love weren't enough. “I wish it could always be like this between you and me,” whispered Bonnie.

“You don't like pretending to plot each other's deaths and forging hate for your lover?”

“Lover? Is that what you are to me?”

“Silly terms like ‘boyfriend’ are childish and you aren't ready for ‘husband’ yet,”

Bonnie briefly imagined the wedding. She could see herself in a white veil, holding white roses. Klaus would stand at the end of the aisle but she couldn't picture her friends in the audience. No, they wouldn’t approve. “You want marriage?”

“Only with you,” assured Klaus. He knew what she was thinking. He didn't care for her friends at all, so their approval meant nothing to him. He would be enough for her, but if Bonnie wanted friends, then she could find better ones. She deserved the best and those fools didn't fit the bill.

Holding in a frown, Bonnie said, “You know these dreams are the only place we can be free to love,”

“It doesn't have to be.”

“I have everything to lose if people found out about us and you’d face no backlash whatsoever.”

“You’re right in a way. A lecture from Elijah is nothing like all your friends turning on you.”

“So you understand?” breathed Bonnie. The music continued, but they stood in place at the center of the dance floor while others circled them.

“I understand that they'd want you to be happy if they loved you.”

“They'll see this as a betrayal.”

Klaus found the notion ridiculous. Bonnie was the most loyal person he’d ever met. If he had a cheating ex, he would have slaughtered them. Despite having the power to destroy her useless friends, Bonnie had chosen to protect them. They continued to hurt her and she let them go unharmed. His love was too kindhearted for her own good. “And I will be there to comfort you,” said Klaus.

“Promise?”

“I swear to be there for you, forever and always,” swore the Original Hybrid before he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“Think you can dream of a place more private?” she asked trailing a finger down his chest.

“How I love when you get frisky.’

#bonnie bennett #klaus mikaelson #klonnie #the vampire diaries #klonnieweek2024

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peachesfather · 11 months ago

Note

So here's the thing, I've been picturing Mizu (blue eye samurai) in a party, maybe an elegant party, wearing a suit staring at fem reader all night and reader noticing her. I just want Mizu to be seduced by reader with it ending in a subjective situation. If you could do that I would be grateful. Thanks!

- thanks for this request!!

UnMask Beauty ❦

Mizu x black fem! reader

Warning:+18, in a public bathroom, sloppy kisses, and pussy eating(reader receives) not proofread !!

Author note ౨ৎ

- please note this is a short blurb that will end with bang of porn filth, I quite tired and the asks that ppl be sending me are great n all but idk if I could write it in a one day, anyways thanks for enjoying my works.

While everyone else was dancing with their partners, I was sipping a glass of wine at a table by myself. Seeing everyone with their partners made me feel like I wasn't really enjoying my night at the moment. I had a dull expression on my face and continued tapping the wine glass.

Everyone gathered into a slow dance with their lovers when the slow jams began to play. I started to get really depressed and my eyes started to water, but then I saw this fine ass woman arrive at the ball party wearing a sharp black suit and perfectly fitting black pants. I couldn't contain my drool; I really wanted to dance with her, but I was too afraid to ask her.

I stared at her until she turned to face me and smiled, causing me to become weak at the knees. Her smile increased my desire for her.

She walked her way towards my table and i was hiding my face from the rise of embarrassment from being caught staring too hard, she looked at me with her blue eyes.

She approached my table, and as I covered my face to avoid looking out of place when I was caught staring too deeply, her blue eyes met mine.

"Would you like to dance? "It seems like you need it because you look so beautiful tonight," she said, gesturing for me to take her hand. I did so, and we held hands as the warmth of the dance floor filled the room.

she was searching for someone while she was holding my wrist while we were dancing i was such a nervous mess that i closed my eyes in the process, I smiled as I opened my eyes and she danced, she stopped what she was doing to embrace me. She tilts closer and plants a kiss on my lips, making me feel dizzy. I press her cheek and we swirl our tongues in our mouths, allowing her to prove her dominance, which makes me whimper beneath her.

She grins and reaches for my ass through my silk dress as I moan in her shoulder, praying that no one hears me. She then whispers, "I want to fuck you so badly right now," which causes my cheeks to slightly burn.

I boldly responded to the question, "Can you even handle all of me?" She pulled me into the bathroom stall by holding my hand, closed the door, and aggressively grabbed my wrist to make me turn around. She kissed my neck and then my lips, leaving me feeling wetter than before. I spread one of my legs while she holds me for her to have access to my clothed cunt.(my pum pum)

She grabs my neck to look into her lustful blue eyes while placing her fingers on my clothed pantie and pulling it to the side,She then dropped to her knees in the bathroom stall, wedged between my legs. She touched my clit and immediately began to lick my cunt at a rapid pace. i desperately moaned and grabbed a fist of her long hair while she kept face down onto my cunt.

She pauses in the middle and looks directly into my eyes while grinning through my clit. "missing my touch already, fucking brat" she said while pressing her thumb onto my cunt.

Although I can't deny that I wanted more of her, I was ashamed of how much of a mess I looked beneath her. She smacks one of my thighs, showing a dull expression that shows how unsatisfied she is right now with me.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Touch me." She asked me what I wanted, rolling her eyes and grabbing my cheeks to look in her direction. "say that again with your property words" she said and i gulped and shyly guided her hand to my cunt.

“Please use your tongue on me, baby..” I murmured in a desperate tone, and that got her attention. She smirked and pressed her lips back on my cunt, while she looking up at me.

She stare up at me while latching onto my pussy, My cunt's drenching sounds fill the restroom stall as she pleases me, getting wetter with each lick.

She began slurring up my clit's fluids, causing you to squirm. You clenched around her tougue, causing your thighs to tremble with the close to orgasm."mmmm..fuck imma cum just like that.."

"i got you, please make that pussy come for me"She said as she gripped my thighs, pushed more against my heated cunt, and sucked me through my orgasm. I closed my eyes, came onto her mouth, and breathed slowly.

We exchanged a nervous glance and giggled at our current situation as I opened my eyes and stood up. I said in a mocking tone, putting my pantie back on my body, "Maybe you did know how to handle me, but whatever."

"This is the beginning, I can show you more what I am capable of other than my tongue," she smirked cockily and held out her hand with a card that has her name.

Imma think about that..Ms.Mizu??

She grabbed my wrist, kissed me sloppy but gently, and said, "You be calling that name everyday." She hurried out of the bathroom.

#lesbian smut #lesbian #black reader #mizu x akemi #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #bes #bes mizu #blue eye samurai #taigen #taigen blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #wlw smut #mizu x you #mizu come home the kids miss you #bes x reader #bes x you

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prodbymaui · 1 year ago

Text

Guilty Pleasure

before this night is over, I want you in my arms

PAIRING: na jaemin x reader

GENRE: celebrities in love

WORD COUNT: 931 words

WARNINGS: mentioned edging, public sex (?), voyeurism

SYNOPSIS: Just the ideal couple enjoying each other's warmth on a cold night.

A/N: my first dream fic on this blog, yay! I hope you enjoy this one <3 tell me your thoughts! (this is just another surge of a brainrot so don't mind the grammatical errors and lack of plot + porn)

Escaping the after-party of this big celebration for a minute was out of the equation. You're one hell of a party-goer and, obviously, has a knack for parties which is why you haven't thought of getting out of here even for a mere second to breathe. But one text from your loving boyfriend and you're already excusing yourself from the dance floor.

JM: Where are you, love?

Spotting Jeno not far where you stand, you quickly stride towards him, steps careful not to trip on your favorite heels. You exchange pleasantries with a slap on his arm. ''Where's Jaemin?''

The man comically flinch in surprise, turning around. ''Well, hello to you too. He's out in the back. Do you want me to accompany you?''

Shaking your head, you wave your hand dismissively, sending him a 'thanks' before heading out to finally meet your boyfriend. There Jaemin is, clicking on his phone with his blazer hanging on his left arm, his dress shirt opened until the fourth button.

You don't know whether it's the alcohol in your system that is responsible for the quivering of your legs or something else. The light emitting from his phone enables you to get a view of his adonis face. It's definitely something else.

Your heels clacks the ground but the music coming from inside of the building overpowers it. Jaemin looks a bit surprise as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face on his chest. There isn't much of a height difference between you but the warmth of Jaemin's body has been a comfort area for you ever since.

He places his blazer on your naked shoulders before sneaking his arms underneath it, hugging your waist. ''Bless me with some words next time, will you? I was about to whip those arms away thinking it was someone else.''

You let out a breathy chuckle, slapping Jaemin's bicep lightly before gripping the fabric of his dress shirt. Humming, you close your eyes as you let your lips touch the skin of Jaemin's neck, placing sweet pecks on areas you could reach without moving too much.

Looking up, you meet the loving eyes of your boyfriend that speaks a thousand words; I adore you. I cherish you. I want this to last forever.

You couldn't help but smile shyly at the amount of fondness in Jaemin's eyes. Caressing the side of his face, you tip-toe to place a kiss on his slightly chapped lips. It isn't even a second after the first one when you lean in for the second time, deeper this time.

Jaemin's hands grips your waist a little tighter, head bowing to force his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp for air. Jaemin licks everywhere he can, biting on your lower lip before moving on to suck on your tongue. Your lipstick smudges but Jaemin thinks it only makes things better.

With the little bits of his sanity, Jaemin is able to hear the slow music that is being played at the party. He takes this as a chance to move your body along with his, swaying you side to side while he pours out his feelings into the kiss you are sharing.

For the paparazzis who's watching you right now, this is surely a private moment worth the risk of invading. A former child teen star and her best friend turned into lover sharing a sweet kiss after they escape the chaotic party to enjoy each other's presence? This will truly make the headlines and bring them a lot of cash. Everyone loves a sweet moment from famous celebrities!

Anyone who would see the pictures are gonna be filled with adoration mixed with envy as they watch Jaemin, the ever-so-boyfriend-material, hug you tight in the midst of the cold night while whispering what seem to be sugary words on your ears.

Well, it is partially true. Indeed, these are some sugary and sweet words but no one knows it is partnered with sensual and dirty connotations. They don't know that the reason for your shaking legs isn't the cold. They don't know the real reason behind Jaemin's charming smile. They don't know the actual words being whispered.

Jaemin's fingers works on swiping his phone underneath the blazer he lent you. ''Are you gonna cum for me, pretty? Right here where the media can possibly catch us? Oh, how dirty you are, darling. I don't have to do much to have you fucked out in my arms. Look at those legs going jelly over a toy vibrating inside your pussy. You're falling apart. God, you're so beautiful.''

Your eyes rolls to the back of your head and your tongue lols out. Jaemin turns your back in any possible angle your face can be seen, covering you. The graph in his screen curves up courtesy of his fingers.

''You've held in so well, darling. Come for me. Just like that. There we go. Such a good girl, always a good girl for me.'' Placing a kiss on top of your head, Jaemin brushes your hair soothingly.

Your boyfriend stops swaying your bodies and steadies you in his arms because if it weren't for his hand on your waist, you would drop down to the floor the moment you came.

Still couldn't believe what happened, you pinch Jaemin's nipple through his dress shirt. ''Aww--''

''That's what you get for edging me for an hour and making me cum on public.''

Jaemin chuckles lowly. ''Isn't that great, love? Another box to tick off our list--''

Yep, no one can definitely know about this.

#nct smut #nct #jaemin smut #na jaemin #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct hard thoughts #nct imagines #nct fanfic #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin boyfriend #jaemin x reader #nct x reader #prodbymaui

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buryustogether · 1 year ago

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the end of forever (god’s day)

aziraphale x reader x crowley

summary: the end of forever comes on god’s day.

word count: 2.6k

warnings/tags: angst, mentions of blood

author’s note: dedicated to @avocado-writing , with whom i did a fic trade and this was my piece!! this fic is part of their good omens original timeline, and i highly recommend reading it!!! <333

The end of forever started on a Saturday evening.

Granted, it was not the Saturday evening that dominates the beginning to every weekend, fitted with gentle rainfall pattering against the windows, and a book propped in your lap, and the comfortable ambiance of your lovers on either side as you let yourself be lulled into peace. Instead it was a dark, thrashing kind of Saturday, filled with panicked whispers over dances, and demons busting down the bookshop windows in hails of twinkling glass. It was blinding, seared into the forefront of your mind with traces of a halo detached from its angel and a pair of souls running away, bound for opposite sides of the universe and forever vanished into one corner together.

And, of course, it was snapped up in the jaws of the Metatron. He had taken Aziraphale for a stroll around the block once or twice, leaving you and Crowley to stare down the mess of what had become the bookshop and wonder if perhaps this had all been a dream.

“Fancy breakfast at the Ritz, love?” Crowley had said as the pair of you began to pluck cracked books from the floor and stack them to be restored and reshelved. With a wave of his slender fingers, he had sent the shards of glass cascading through the air like a silent breeze back to where they belonged in the window frames. “Reckon we deserve it, after a night like that.”

“Sure you’ll be able to handle the drive?” you had said and handed him the empty fire extinguisher, which had fallen down the winding iron staircase. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, Crowley. Spending all that time in Heaven? Must have been awfully straining on you.”

Though he would never admit it, Crowley rather enjoyed it when you fussed over him. He relished in the worry threading your voice together, craved the inevitable babying that accompanied your measures of protection. His chest had puffed slightly, and if you could have seen them, you were sure his wings had ruffled a bit.

“I’ll be alright,” he’d assured, then dropped into the chair he had long ago claimed as his beside Aziraphale’s desk. “Wouldn’t say no to a nap when we come back, though. Could sleep for a few decades, I think. Skip all the garish drama that’s sure to follow something like this. Care to join, nightingale?”

You had smiled at him, eyes full of exhaustion and yet at the same time, the restlessness that came with the knowledge part of your trio was still missing from the picture. “Afraid I can only keep you company a few hours,” you mused. “Immortal as I am, I don’t think I can lie still long enough until you decide to wake up.” Despite your teasing, you reached out your hand to caress his jaw, and he leaned into your warm touch. He knew it like he knew his own breath in his throat at this point, but he still nuzzled into your palm like an animal seeking warmth. Funny enough creature as he was, he was still, deep down, a demon searching your soul for any glimpse of love you might spare him. “I’m glad you’re okay, Crowley,” you said, letting your voice lower in volume so he understood you had dropped your jokes and cracks. “I don’t think I could bear losing you. Either of you.”

He had leaned up to kiss you then, lips and tongue seeking yours like, in spite of your words, one side or the other might tear you away from him. He tasted like cinnamon - an odd enough musk for him, but he had just returned from Heaven, after all. You were sure he hated it. But you had drank it in like it was the last thing you’d taste before you fell.

You found yourself some time later amongst the back shelves of the shop, knees and the heels of your hands aching as you painstakingly wiped away and polished the spots on the floor upon which unholy blood had been spilt and spattered. Aziraphale would not care to have those on his tile, thank you. A voice in the back of your head told you that one of your boys could simply miracle the mess away, but this seemed a bit more intimate - cleaning up the mess for your lover. This was your shop, too, in a way. And you wanted to rid it of any trace of what had happened here last night.

You only realized it was Sunday morning - God’s day - when you heard the bell above the front door jingle with its familiar chime, and the low rumble of your lover’s voices filled the empty space between the air. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, not over the sound of your brush against the floor and the dull ache in your lower back. After a long few minutes, you sat back and inspected your work.

Like the demon invasion of Fell and Co. had never even happened.

You were just about to call out to your boys when you heard a sharp hiss to Crowley’s voice that caused your heart to skip a beat. You twisted your head around to face the front of the store. Crowley only ever hissed when he let his disguise slip and his tongue split. And he only ever let his tongue split when he was so distraught not even a raging thunderstorm could comfort him.

Wiping your hands on your legs, you cautiously made your way through the organized maze of shelves toward the front entrance of the bookshop. There stood your lovers, the angel and the demon, staring one another down like they had never met, like their love had vaporized, like they had never met in that garden at the beginning.

“What’s happened?” you said and made your presence known as you stepped down into the threshold. “What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale turned to face you, obviously making an effort to brighten his features, but it was Crowley who faced away. Dropped his weight onto his arm against the desk. Reached up to tug off his shades, toss them aside hard enough that the lens cracked in its frame. The air crackled with a kind of tension that reared its head so rarely it was almost foreign to you. Or, perhaps, was that divine energy rippling the air, stirred and upset by the creatures standing before you?

“Darling,” said Aziraphale, then reached out to take your hands and placed kisses upon your knuckles. His lips were plump and soft, and when they made contact with the skin of your hand, a tiny sense of ease washed over your veins. “You needn’t worry about this. Just a… little dispute.”

“Oh, don’t lie to her like a child,” seethed Crowley from across the room, and whatever ease had settled your nerves disappeared in the blink of an eye. You felt your blood turn to ice beneath your skin when you heard a wobble, a shake, in his voice. Was your demon… holding back tears? He bared his teeth, which he’d allowed to sharpen like blades, and jutted out an accusatory finger toward his husband. “Tell them, or I bloody will,” he snapped, then lifted a deadly brow. “And you won’t like the way I phrase things, angel.”

Alarm blared like a siren in your head, flashed like lights that burned your eyes even through your lids. You knew at once this surely had something to do with last night, with the Metatron, and you were unable to stop yourself from snapping around to stare at Aziraphale expectantly. Where you searched for comfort and reassurance, you found only irritation and exasperation.

“Aziraphale,” you said, gripping his hands tighter as you gently shook your head with confusion. You only barely managed to keep your voice from shaking; something was very, very wrong. This was not like the time two hundred years ago when they had stopped talking to one another for a decade. This was far more serious, far more dangerous. “Aziraphale, what’s happening?”

Your angel stared into your eyes - or, perhaps, he was staring at his own reflection in your irises - and he let out a breath you had not heard him take in. “The Metatron,” he began slowly, softly, like you were a spooked animal who would run if he talked too loud, “has given me a generous, generous offer.”

From across the room, Crowley scoffed over his shoulder and gave another hiss from between his teeth.

“Based on a few of the…” Aziraphale seemed to struggle with the words. “Good deeds that have been performed the last six thousand years, Heaven has agreed to allow me back into its order - as the Supreme Archangel, now that Gab… Jim has vacated his position.” Despite the slow, sinking feeling growing like a black hole in your gut as he went on, the beginnings of an excited smile played upon the corners of his lips. “And they’ve even offered to redeem Crowley - as an angel again!”

The bookshop was a deadly kind of quiet, the kind that filled empty spaces with fear, and dread, and horror until there was nothing left but a rotting mess. Your mouth hung agape as you tried to process your angel’s words, tried to swallow down what he’s just said. Heaven wanted him back - would take Crowley back. That would be it. Their time on Earth would come to a close, a thunderous applause, a devastating end.

Yet there was a single question that hung tight in the air, one that waited like a dagger above each of your heads, waiting to see who would speak of it first.

Could you handle the sting when it planted itself in your back? “Aziraphale,” you heard yourself whisper as your brows knitted together and tears puddled in the corners of your eyes, “what about me?”

Though you could not see it, Crowley shut his eyes and pursed his lips, still attempting to stop the tears from falling down the gaunt planes of his cheeks. He knew the answer already, knew his angel far too well to pretend it could be anything different. He wanted to protect you from it, clasp his hands over your ears and snarl and snap at the world until he’d frightened everything that could hurt you far, far away. But you had to hear this.

Aziraphale swallows thick, holding your hands a bit tighter, like you might bolt from his grasp any moment. Even when you shift, he grips you in an iron grasp. “Well,” he drawls slowly, hesitation creeping into the corners of his voice, “of course, Heaven can’t grant holy status to… ah… humans. Immortal or not, I’m afraid, my love. But do you know angels hold the ability to possess human souls within themselves? Keep them safe and sound - isn’t that lovely? Why, I’m not the first angel in history to find a human they can’t let go of.” His hold tightens again, turning your skin pale where he grips you. “I - we could bring you with us. Your soul, darling.”

Every ounce of curiosity, of worry and fear, has morphed into a single sickening, dripping, venomous sensation that floods your systems, encases your body like a cocoon swallowing you whole; horror.

“You want to take my soul to Heaven,” you said quietly, so terribly softly that it was barely above a whisper. “Like a pet.” With this, you yanked your hands from Aziraphale’s and forced yourself to take three steps back. It stung like knives between your ribs to do so, to bear the expression painting itself across your husband’s face, but there was no other choice. “Aziraphale, you would trade us - trade this - to go back to them? After what they’ve done to you?” You took another step back, and you felt yourself bump into the chest of your demon. “After what they did to Crowley?”

You had always heard betrayal hurt worse from a lover than anyone else. Was this what betrayal felt like? Like stones in your pocket with a river pulling you under? Like venom slowly sucking your life from your very veins.

“No, of course not,” your angel tried, raising his hands. He opened his mouth to go on, then threw up a palm and sniffed out an exasperated huff. “If you both would just try and understand…”

“Oh, we understand plenty.” There came no term of endearment at the end of Crowley’s statement, no playful lilt or head nod. Only the cold, piercing gaze of those yellow eyes, and the slow wrapping of his hands around your arms, pulling you closer against him.

The movement caught Aziraphale’s eye, and hellfire flashed within them. “Oh, I should have known it would go this way,” he chided, pacing forward. “Here I thought you could, for once, Crowley, suppress your demonic ways of swaying her to your side. For once! Are you satisfied, you old serpent? Are you content with what’s happening?”

“How dare you!” The shout came from deep within your chest, an explosive rage nothing short of a scream that leaves the angel frozen where he stands. Those ocean eyes flicker to yours as you at last allow yourself to cry, to feel the sobs wrack your body like earthquakes and feel the tears gathering at the point of your chin. “How dare you let them come between us, Aziraphale! Between us!” You choked a bit and your angel visibly fought a battle within himself, wanting to pull away and surge forward all at once. “After everything… after everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve built, and you want to leave it to play God.”

“Of course I’m not leaving us,” your angel murmured, the crows feet against his eyes making themselves known as he knits his brows. Tears brim the edges of his vision. “I - I would be taking us with me. To somewhere safe… for all of us.”

“No,” you exhaled shakily, feeling Crowley’s fingers tighten around your upper arms. You shook your head at Aziraphale, your ears ringing and heart shattered. “Not safe for us. Better for you.” You peered into his eyes, into those watery blue eyes you could have drowned in, and saw your reflection staring back as he searched for something he could not find. “You miss Heaven, Aziraphale. You always have - and we know that. We all do.” There came a terrible, horrible, dreadful pause. “But we can’t go with you. We won’t.”

Your angel seemed at a loss for words. He simply stood there, staring you and his husband down. He gaped. Tried to form words. Took a step back.

Above you, his fingers now digging so tightly, so fiercely, so protectively, into your skin that his nails left marks, Crowley sneered and hissed in a voice filled with the desolation of a fallen angel, “You idiot.” You turned your face and tucked it into his shirt. “We could have been… us.”

Aziraphale said nothing for a very, very long time. Then he murmured, “I forgive you both.”

The bell over the door jingled, and he was gone, without leaving so much as a feather behind.

You sobbed loudly, awfully, horribly into Crowley’s chest, and you felt his own unholy, burning tears fall against your hairline as he stroked your tresses and kept you standing.

The end of forever started on a Saturday evening, and ended on a Sunday morning.

It was God’s day, after all.

#good omens #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #good omens x reader #the light the dark and the spaces in between fic

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