#shout-out to N for getting me out of the house and then back in

[bitchesuntitled]

Three Months

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader wc: 4,490

Summary: Dieter wants to sleep with you, so you propose a deal. Warnings/Tags: MDNI 18+, best friends to lovers, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Dieter being well... himself, Dieter getting sober, fingering(f!receiving), unprotected PinV(be smarter than this IRL folks), I believe that's it but if I missed anything let me know! A/N: This would be my submission for my own Get Dieter Sober challenge! Don't forget peeps there's still time if you wanna submit something! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jennaispunk for lending their eyes for this one!

Masterlist||AO3||Get Dieter Sober masterlist

divider provided by @saradika-graphics

“Dee,” you let out a frustrated sigh, flinging yourself back on his bed, “We’ve been over this!”

“Oh, come on!” Dieter whines, “You’re hot, I’m hot. What would be the big deal?”

“Just because you want to fuck someone doesn’t mean it should be me!” You huff, rolling your eyes. Dieter flops beside you on his bed with a frustrated groan.

“It’s not fair,” he whines, laying on his side and propping his head up with his fist. “You’re my best friend! Why wouldn’t I ask you? It wouldn’t change anything just because we sleep together.” He tries to argue. “Plus, it’s not like we haven’t fooled around some.”

“We were both drunk,” you bark out a laugh, “I don’t think that counts. All we did was make out on your couch and you fell asleep dry-humping me.”

“Could try again.” He suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You’ve lost count now of how many times he’s tried this during your years of friendship. Dieter gets this wild hair up his ass convinced he wants to sleep with you, only for someone else to come along and occupy him. You roll on your side to face him. Eyes roaming the features of his face: his pouty lips with his bottom lip stuck out further as he begged, the aquiline shape of his nose, and lastly, his big brown eyes, bloodshot and wide pupils from whatever substance he took today. Pills, coke, booze, you name it, Dieter Bravo snorted or ingested it. You smirked, an idea forming in your head.

“How bad do you want to fuck me, Bravo?” You ask in a sultry tone, your fingers scratching through the scruff of his jaw, leaning into him, tracing your nose softly against his.

“Really fucking bad.” He breaths out, his lips ghosting over your own, stretching his neck, attempting to slot his mouth over yours.

“Then I’ll make a deal with you,” you smirk, running your fingers through his thick brown waves, pulling his head away from you.

“Okay.” He giggles giddily as you loosen the grip on his hair, “What are you thinking?”

“Three months — no drugs, no booze, no sex,” you let out breezily, “Then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“What?” Dieter all but shrieks, eyes widening at your proposal.

“You heard me,” you say, booping his nose with your index finger, “You want to fuck me so bad. Need to be sober for three months.”

“What am I supposed to do for three fucking months?” He asks, flopping onto his stomach on the bed.

“Be sober.” You shrug, letting out an evil cackle, and gently pat his back.

“Deal,” Dieter grumbles into his comforter. “Three months will fly by.” He huffs, shrugging. “I’ll be fine,” he mumbles more to himself.

—

He looks up from his phone, watching the party around him. Women and men gyrating on the makeshift dance floor. A week into this deal with you and he feels fine. He won’t cave. A handsome brunette offers him some random pill but he declines, making his way through the house.

“Hey, Dieter!” someone shouts from a room off the hallway he’s been walking down.

“Hey man,” Dieter said, popping his head in through the door. “Guess I found the chill party, huh?”

“Have a seat.” A skinny redhead with tits trying to spill out of her top says, patting the spot next to her, “We can have fun in here.”

Dieter gulps, nodding his head as his eyes take her in, making his way to the spot next to her on the couch. When he sits down, he feels his phone vibrate in his palm. He looks down to see you sent him a message.

I know you went to some party tonight. Don’t forget our deal.

Dieter: Why do you hate me?

I don’t hate you. 😘

Dieter: At a party with a redhead sitting next to me with tits the size of bowling balls. You hate me.

You can back out at any time.

Dieter: NO! Why’d sex have to be off the table?

“Want some?” The redhead asks, offering Dieter the joint in her hand. He shakes his head with a polite no thank you, redirecting his focus back to his phone. He chuckles, reading your message.

You got tested, doofus. I’m not going to sleep with you if you’re not clean. 

Dieter: What if I get tested before we fuck?

No.

With a sigh, he pockets his phone, trying to pick up what is being discussed around the circle of people passing the joint around. He spends the rest of his time at the party in this small room, trying to steer clear of greater temptation down the hall. Dieter wouldn’t have even come to this party had his manager not forced him to. Something about socializing with some model and trying to get on a director's good side. Who the director and model were, Dieter had no idea. All he could think about was you, wondering what you were doing, if you were even serious about this deal. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna hit this?” The redhead purred, leaning into his side, her breasts brushing against his arm.

Dieter clears his throat, trying his best to avoid looking at her cleavage. “Nope. I’m good.” He murmurs with a shake of his head.

Since the moment he laid eyes on you, Dieter knew he wanted to fuck you and wasn’t about to lose his chance now.

—

“Being sober is so fucking boring!” Dieter whines, sitting on the opposite end of his couch, snatching the open KitKat off his coffee table. “I don’t get why people do this.”

“Dieter. It’s been a month.” You huff, rolling your eyes as he takes a giant bite off the chocolate bar.

“I’m jus-“ he continues to chew, “I’m just saying, it’s boring! I don’t know how you do this.” He says after swallowing the sweet treat.

“Find a different hobby,” you say, shrugging your shoulders, picking the lint off your leggings, “I don’t know what to tell you, ya big baby.”

“I’m not a big baby!” Dieter huffs, tossing the KitKat back onto the coffee table. “I don’t have any hobbies besides fucking, drinking, and drugs!” He says, leaning towards you, his arms caging you in against the arm of his couch. Your throat feels dry suddenly, taking in his steely expression, “How am I supposed to release all this stress?” He asks, quirking his brow, his mouth so close you can smell the chocolate on his breath. Dieter gently kisses the corner of your mouth, his lips making a soft trail from your jaw to your neck, “Hmm?” He asks, waiting for a response before his teeth gently scrape that spot behind your ear.

You let out a soft whine feeling his hard length against your thigh.

“No!” You bark out, gently pushing him away from you, attempting to catch your breath. “Not the deal, bucko. It’s only been a month.”

“Fine,” Dieter huffs, sitting back on the couch and folding his arms across his broad chest. “Then what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” He asks, nodding his head towards the tent in his pants.

“You’ll be fine.” You say, giving him a pointed look and grabbing the TV remote to turn something on to distract you after whatever that was. “Do we need to watch The Lion King?” You ask, a grin spreading across your face.

“Why? So I can be even more confused about my feelings for Scar?!” He laughs, grabbing his crotch and adjusting himself. “He’s a bad guy but maybe he’d be fun.” He adds with a shrug

“You’re so fucking weird.” You laugh, shaking your head, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Fuck off,” Dieter grumbles, scooting his hips down to get more comfortable and stretching his arm across the back, “Actually, no. Come here,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to his side. You lay your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent with a smile. He lets out a sigh, laying his cheek against the top of your head. “I like this,” he whispers as you find a movie to watch.

“What?” You whisper, scooting closer to him.

“New hobby.” He hums, placing a kiss on your head, “Cuddling.”

You roll your eyes, biting your lip to keep from smiling. You are really beginning to like this Dieter. Sober Dieter is a lot sweeter.

—

Dieter sits in his art studio, contemplating what to paint. The drugs tended to spark that creativity in him, his hands moving mindlessly until some weird fucked up masterpiece was sitting in front of him. Except now. Now he sits wondering what he’s even doing in the room he’s avoided for weeks upon weeks. Unable to make that same spark come to life, staring out the window to his backyard. Maybe I could do a landscape, he thinks.

“What the fuck am I thinking?” He groans, throwing the paintbrush down in defeat, “I’m not fucking Bob Ross.”

He grabs his phone, opening it to the first thing he sees, a message from his dealer.

Hey Bravo. Been a while man, you good?

His palms begin to sweat, fingers itching to respond. What would he even say?

Sorry, your highest-paying customer is sober.

Hey, yeah everything’s great!

Actually everything is really fucking bad.

Can I stop by?

Then a notification pops up that you shared something on Instagram, deciding to click on it, his focus is immediately on you. He smiles, seeing the selfie you posted. You, with your soft lips, your sweet smile, your eyes twinkle like you’ve got a secret you’re not ready to share. Just you.

Dieter had a hard time admitting to himself that he loved you. Not the kind of love shared between friends but more. 

The first time it popped into his brain had been during a drug-fueled bender when you took care of him during and after, reminding him to drink water, laying in his bed with him because he didn’t want to be alone, scratching his back, and putting up with his demanding whines of discomfort.

The second time had been during a drunken night where he was trying to forget about his feelings. Only for him to wind up banging on your apartment door at four am, when he cried himself to sleep on your couch about how much he loved you, while you softly exhaled and shook your head with a pitiful face and told him  - Dieter, you’re drunk.

The third time and when he finally accepted it was the following morning, waking to the sunlight shining brightly into your living room. His body and head feeling so achy, slumping off your couch, making his way to your room. He smiled watching you deep in sleep, comforter wrapped around your shoulders and legs sprawled out. He let out a soft sigh, his feet slowly padding to your bed, nudging your shoulder when he was close, softly whispering - scoot over - before slipping under the covers as you created space for him, observing the crease of your eyebrows as you moved, the little pout of your lips, and the twitch of your nose as you slept. This is what he wanted to see every morning for the rest of his life. You.

He let out an exasperated sigh, putting his phone down to stare at the blank canvas again.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, quickly grabbing some paint and squirting red, yellow, blue and white to his pallet. Not even noticing the joint he’d left last time he was in this room on the side table as inspiration finally struck.

—

“Dieter!” You call out as you open his front door being met with silence as you make your journey further into the darkened foyer, “I got those tacos you like!” Trying to coax him out of wherever it is he’s hiding.

You’re certain he’s changed his mind on the deal you’d made. It’s been weeks since you heard from him, past the three month mark now and the only reason you’re here is because he hasn’t been answering his phone and worry was getting the better of you.

“Dee?” You try again, flipping lights on in each room you pass until you come to the kitchen, “This isn’t funny dude.” You shout, setting the bag of food on the counter before going in search of him.

Making your way deeper into his home, you notice a light shining from under the door to Dieter’s studio. You can hear movement on the other side of the door.

“Dieter?” You ask hesitantly, tapping the tips of your fingers against the door. “You in there?”

You hear a groan before distinctly hearing something plunk to the ground. Taking a deep breath, you push the door open to see Dieter lying on the floor in front of a blank canvas. Paint is splattered all over the place, his paint brushes skewed about, and a cup he kept close by lies on the floor, surrounded by a murky puddle of paint-infused water.

“Dieter,” you hesitate, approaching his still form. “Hey, man. Get up,” your foot reaching to kick against his leg lightly. His speech is slurred as he grumbles, something you can’t decipher. Well - at least he’s still breathing, you think, furrowing your brow.

“Come on, Dee.” You sigh, feeling defeated. Hunched over his form, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No,” he murmurs as you turn him flat on his back. “Stay here,” he groans out, eyes tightly squeezed shut like a toddler who just got woken up from his nap, reaching his arms out towards you, waving them in the air until his hand makes contact with your arm. Dieter moves on his side pulling you down with him, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist, a satisfied hum leaving his chest.

“Dieter,” you let out an annoyed huff, “This is great and all, but uh- why the fuck are we on the floor?”

“Sleep,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I am not sleeping on the floor.”

“Shut up,” Dieter whines, tangling his legs with your own. “I want sleep.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head against his chest as he holds you against him. His breathing calms as you lay there in silence on the floor of his little studio, wondering what it might have been that he took this time. 

“I made it,” Dieter huffs against your hairline. As if the thoughts in your head were seeping through like osmosis into his brain. “Three months. No drugs, no booze, no sex.”

Your head tilts up, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he grins, bleary eyes raking across the features of your face.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Bravo.” You give a teasing glare. “So you really made it three months?”

“Mhm,” Dieter hums with a shit-eating grin. “Bet you didn’t see that happening.”

“No, I did not.” You comment, quirking your brow.

“I need to…” Dieter pauses, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “I need to show you something.”

He gently moves you away, propping himself up to stand. “Ew,” he fusses, looking down at his soaked sock standing in the murky puddle of water. “Why’d you let us lay so close to that?!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, giving him a pointed look.

“Right.” Dieter says bashfully, extending his hands to you, “Come on.”

Dieter gently pulls you to stand with him before taking a deep breath and leading you to the spot, the place he always puts his latest project to admire and contemplate, on the wall.

“So, I realized something during this three month stint.” He starts, clearing his throat before continuing. “I uh… Well…” he steps forward, turning on the singular light above the darkened spot on the wall, revealing a painting of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, shocked that this is what Dieter has been working on. A galaxy seeping into a meadow surrounding your face. The blues and purples of the galaxy blend in beautifully with greens and yellows of the meadow. The expression of your face stunning against the canvas. Is this how Dieter sees you?

“I’ve been working on this for weeks now.” Dieter mumbles shyly, scratching the back of his head, “I don’t know how to do this or how to make you believe me but…” he pauses, taking in a deep breath, “I love you.”

“Dee,” you murmur, taken aback by his confession, surging forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, one hand gripping the back of his neck to bring his lips to your own in a desperate kiss. Your fingers weave through his hair, gripping him to you tighter, sweeping your tongue against the seam of his lips he opens his mouth to let you in.

Your mouth trails down his jaw to his neck. “A- and not just like a friend but more than that. I know you’re probably gonna be all Dieter, you didn’t stick to the deal but I swear I did.” He hisses as the pulse in his neck thrums wildly against your lips, “I just-“ he gasps, feeling you lovingly bite against his pulse point, arms wrapping around your waist in a tight grip, “You initiated the bet - for me to get sober, and then I did. All these years I was doing all that shit to try and drown the noises inside my head but they aren’t so loud once I actually hear what they’re saying and the main thing they’re saying now is I’m an idiot for not being honest with you.”

“Dieter,” you let out an annoyed huff, looking into his melancholy russet eyes, “I love you too, okay? Now shut up.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out with a dopey grin, leaning forward to meet your lips again. You groan as his tongue slips between your lips, exploring your mouth with fervor. He guides you backward until the desk that sits in his studio bumps the back of your thighs. His hands glide down, cupping the back of your thighs, lifting you on top of the desk.

“Fuck,” you yelp, letting out a breathless laugh as his lips meet yours. Your hands reach for the bottom of his shirt, slipping underneath to feel the warmth of his skin against your palm.

“I love you,” Dieter breathes against your jaw, lips trailing down to your neck, “So fucking much.”

“Love you too,” you moan, bunching the shirt he’s wearing up his torso. He breaks away, letting you sweep it off him with a toss to the floor. Dieter grins, tugging your shirt off, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra with one hand, slipping the thin material off your shoulders to expose your chest to him.

“Nice,” Dieter hums, massaging your tits in his hands, brushing his thumbs across your nipples, “Always wondered what these bad boys looked like underneath.”

“Fucking christ,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “So fucking weird.”

He smiles devilishly before nipping your pert nipple gently, sucking it into his warm mouth, swirling his tongue around it. You let out a soft moan, feeling the ache between your thighs become more persistent. Fingers carding through the soft, wavy curls on his head, pushing at his shoulders.

“Off, " you demand as your hands grip the waistband of his pants, trying to push them down, “Off.”

“Easy,” Dieter smiles, slowly pushing his pants down, cock springing free and standing proudly.

“Fuck me,” you whisper in shock, taking in the sight of his length. Thick and long. You had a good idea, considering how many mornings you’d woken up with the thing poking you in the ass, but to see it hanging heavily between his thighs was monumental. He grunts when your hand reaches to touch him, squeezing him firmly at the base.

“Your turn,” Dieter hissed, grabbing your leggings. You let go of him, helping to lift your hips as he quickly tugged them down your legs. “Fuck me,” he utters, taking in the dark patch of your underwear, his hands rubbing up your thighs, teasing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Dieter,” you gasp, gripping his bicep, his thumb making tight circles around your clit against the cotton of your underwear. He hums, laving his tongue against your collarbone, licking a line up your throat as his fingers push the gusset of your panties to the side.

“Fuck,” Dieter pants, feeling the wetness between your folds. His fingers sliding up and down your seam, coating his fingers in your slick, teasing your entrance with the tips of two thick fingers.

“Dee,” you whine, breath hitching as your hips squirm on top of the desk when he pushes his fingers in torturously slow. “I need more.”

“You’ll get more,” he rasps, his fingers continuing their slow movements. In and out. In and out. In and out. His thumb moves to that bundle of nerves, alternating between sweeping back and forth and drawing firm circles around your clit.

You feel the pool of arousal building at the end of your spine, warmth spreading through your limbs like a wildfire. Your breath quickens as your walls tighten around his digits.

“Oh god,” you moan, gripping his bicep firmer, “Fuck. Dieter, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Come for me, baby.” He whispers against your ear. Fingers scrubbing against your walls faster, deeper until they hit that spot inside that feels impossible to reach on your own.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, throwing your head back as the flames within consume you whole. Your back arching, pushing your chest against his, “Dieter,” you whimper, head resting against his shoulder as his fingers work you through your orgasm.

He scoops you up, flipping you over his shoulder, carrying you out the door of his studio, down the hall to his room.

“Dieter!” You shriek, giggling knowing he must be a sight to see right now. His heavy member bouncing between his thighs as he marches with you over his shoulder. “What about your back?!” You ask, grinning, taking notice of the walls of his room.

“Don’t fucking care,” he says, flipping you onto his bed, pushing your legs apart, creating space for him between your thighs. He crawls up the length of your body, arms resting on either side of your head. His cock pressing against your thigh, realizing what is to come next. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, his lips barely touching your own, breathing each other in, causing a dizzying arousal to pool in your tummy.

“Yes,” you breathe, hands trailing up the expanse of his back, gripping his shoulders. He grips his shaft; a breathy moan escapes you as he slowly strokes your seam with his tip. “Dieter,” you plead, nails creating half-crescent moons into his shoulders when his tip catches on your entrance.

“I got you,” he croaks, repeating himself as he pushes in, “I got you.”

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, feeling your walls make space for him inside your warmth. He lets out a hiss as your nails dig deeper into the skin of his shoulders, definitely leaving marks he’ll see tomorrow.

“Oh my god,” Dieter groans, his head coming to the crook of your neck, pushing his cock in deeper until you can’t decipher where you begin and he ends. You moan, feeling so incredibly full. You never knew sex could feel like this, and it’s barely even started. He holds still, allowing both of you to get used to the feeling of one another.

“Dieter,” you pant, squirming against him, “I need you to move.”

“Fuck me.” He grunts, feeling your walls clench around him. He slowly pulls out before thrusting back into your heat, his hips creating a slow, deep rhythm. “You’re so fucking perfect.” he whimpers, tongue flicking across your sternum. “So,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “perfect.” thrust. You release a broken moan into the room, the sound of skin slapping filling the air around the both of you.

“Harder,” you beg, “Dee, please. Harder.”

He releases a shattered breath, sliding one hand down your side and around your hip, bringing your leg up to rest against his ribs before snapping his hips into you.

“Dieter!” You scream out, back bowing off his bed. It feels so intense. His cock shredding up into you at this angle, hitting that spot perfectly just like his fingers. Your muscles begin to tense, thighs shaking as he continues thrusting into you at a frenzied pace.

“I’m not gonna last long,” Dieter admits, sitting up on his knees, grabbing your ankle to place your leg against his shoulder, staring down at you, watching your tits bounce with every firm thrust he gives you. “So fucking hot,” he groans, his hand sliding down your leg to your center. You let out a ragged moan as his fingers lightly pinch and pull your bundle of nerves, the impending wave of your orgasm getting closer and closer. “Need you to come, baby.” he all but begs, the muscles in his stomach tensing, trying to stave off his own orgasm, “I’m so fucking close.”

“I’m close,” you pant, nodding your head, “So fucking close. Kiss me.”

Dieter wraps your leg around his waist, collapsing on top of you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. The band in your stomach tightens more as your tongues massage one another, your walls fluttering around his cock, beginning to milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck,” Dieter whines, hips stuttering, feeling him pulsate inside of you, painting his come against your inner walls, pushing you over the cliffs edge as your pussy squeezes around him tighter. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” He whimpers, slumping against you, head resting between your breasts, trying to catch your breath.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Dieter murmurs against your sternum, placing a chaste kiss before peering up at you. “Worth the wait,” he adds with a wink.

“Was pretty good, Bravo,” you sigh with a nod. He lets out a hiss as you clench around him.

“Stop that,” he says, pulling out with a groan and flopping beside you on the bed, lying on his side, arm propping up his head, facing you. “Ya know, I really wasn’t looking forward to the whole being sober thing.” He admits, with a mock frown, “But it isn’t that bad.” he adds with a shrug.

“No, it’s not,” you laugh softly.

“I thought it would be worse than it was, but I kinda like it,” Dieter smiles, hovering over you, “Especially since it led to this.” He places a kiss against the corner of your smiling mouth, “And if I stay sober… will this keep happening?” He asks in a whisper, hesitantly awaiting your response.

“Dee,” you hum, “You got me. Just gotta take it day by day.”

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 14

Trigger Warnings: Chan is a meanie, angst

"What do you mean she was gone from your sight, Minho!" Chan shouted. "She wasn't supposed to leave. I told her. I don't know why you're blaming me! She would have been fine on her own in the covenstead. It's not my fault she is undisciplined." Minho growled in frustration. "You're right. She is undisciplined and reckless, but you should have kept an eye on her, Min. You, of all people, should have known that, " Chan said in frustration.

They had been arguing the past twenty minutes about Y/N following the potential stalker to get a note. Y/N could have easily been jumped or kidnapped. This was so far her stupidest decision and quite frankly Chan was getting fed up with it. Even some of the wolves had commented after today. They understood her recklessness with Ateez because she had Hyunjin and Seungmin, but going solo was something Chan wouldn't tolerate. He had to discipline her, she had been here long enough. "Tell Y/N to come to my office," Chan gruffly said to Minho who nodded and walked off to find Y/N who was currently sitting with Changbin on the sofa. "Chan wants to see you in his office," Minho said as he walked past the living room to head to the cleaning cupboard. "What. Why?" Y/N asked. "Don't know," Minho answered, except he did know, but that was something for her to find out.

When Y/N got up and walked towards Chan's office her blood ran cold. It felt too eerily quiet and she didn't like it. It reminded her of going to see Hongjoong or Wooyoung when she was in trouble and she hated the feeling. It made her feel weak and alone. Right now she didn't want to even knock on the door and go in, but she had to. "Come in," Chan called. His voice was colder than normal. It was distant. Y/N entered the room to see Chan on his computer, typing away. It was almost as if he didn't see her or notice her existence, which wasn't true in the slightest. He was purposely making her feel uncomfortable. He wanted her to understand why she was being punished. "Channie, is everything okay?" Y/N asked meekly. "You tell me little wolf," Chan answered. His arms crossed as he looked at her. "I know it was stupid." Y/N sighed. "But honestly, I wanted to know what they wanted." "Is that all you have to say?" Chan asked. He was shocked at her mere apology.

Chan nodded his head, thinking for a moment before he got up to lean on his desk. His arms were crossed and his chest was puffed out. He was dominating her. Showing her who was the alpha and who wasn't. "Now listen here, Y/N. You have defied every wolf since you've been here. The first time. Fine. I can accept that. You are new to your role. The second time. Alright. The fourth and fifth? Seriously, it's ridiculous at this point, even for an omega like yourself." Chan's voice was low as he emphasised each word so it was branded in her brain. "How many times do we have to keep dealing with you being reckless? Huh? I'm fed up with it because you're not learning your lesson and I'm not punishing my wolves any longer." Chan stated. "There mine too!" Y/N whispered. "I honestly am sorry. I didn't think." "They are not your wolves. You are theirs. You're their omega. That is all. Nothing more. Nothing less. Stop acting like an alpha who can take charge because you're not good at it." Chan answered back. His eyes glancing at her submissive head. She was cowering but also defying him. "Look at me Y/N," Chan called out. " From now on you will not leave this house, until I care to let you out. You will redo your nest because I've seen to it broken. If you defy me once more, you will go downstairs." "Ok," Y/N muttered. Her eyes fixated on the piece of dirt on the floor. She felt embarrassed, humiliated. Worst of all it was him denouncing her completely and destroying her nest that she worked hard on.

When Y/N reached her bedroom her heart shattered. Her nest was gone. Her bedsheets were moved. Blankets were thrown everywhere. Items had been stolen. She felt sick. She couldn't believe he actually did that to her, so Y/N stormed out of her room to find him. "Where the fuck is Chan?" Y/N yelled, frightening Jisung and Jeongin. "He left for work. What's wrong?" Jeongin asked. "My nest. Is broken." Y/N yelled, making Jeongin look down. He had heard Chan was going to punish her but he didn't think he would take it that far. "That was Hyunjin. He broke it. Why don't me and Jisung help you fix it agai-" "Don't bother," Y/N growled as she stomped upstairs straight into Hyunjin's first. Y/N headed towards his wardrobe, pulling out his Versace clothes and ripping them apart, before starting on his bed. She ripped everything apart. Whether that was literally or metaphorically it didn't matter, she was hurt and angry. After she was satisfied she headed towards Chan's office to pull his books off the shelf and messed up his paperwork. She did anything that satisfied her anger.

Jeongin caught her and begged her to stop, stating it wouldn't help but she didn't listen. She was on a mission to relieve her emotions. Jeongin didn't know what to do except follow her pitifully. He felt sad for her. She worked hard on her nest and now it was shattered. "Baby, please don't do this. You'll make it worse." Jeongin cried out again. He wanted it to stop but the wolf growled at him. "At least let me fix your nest. Make it all better." Jeongin begged but the female wolf didn't care. "I honestly couldn't care less," Y/N growled as she shoved him out of the way. Jeongin sulked and walked away back downstairs to Seungmin who hugged the youngest wolf. He was feeling conflicted. Jeongin wanted to call Chan and tell him what he did was wrong but at the same time, it was his fault. Jeongin was the one who told Chan he wasn't happy with her risking things and now he got her punished. "Maybe you shouldn't have done that," Seungmin whispered as he held the younger wolf. "I didn't know he would destroy her nest did I?" Jeongin whined. Jeongin sat up and rubbed his eyes when he heard a bang along with a crash. "What was that?" Jeongin asked. "I think that was your room," Seungmin stated, causing Jeongin to cringe.

Felix came running down into the living room as he saw his mate's angry face going in and out of people's rooms. "What's wrong with baby?" Felix asked as he bit his nails in distress. "Chan punished her for disobedience by destroying her nest-" "HER NEST!" Felix shouted. "That's her safe place. That's something we built together." "I know Lix. I know but we can't do anything now." Jeongin stated. "We can. We can make her happy. We can fix her nest." Felix stressed. "Felix do not go up those stairs," Jeongin commanded causing the beta to whimper, he was hurting because she was hurting. "I have a feeling Chan is not going to like us if we interfere," Jeongin stated worriedly. There was nothing they could do. "Can I at least comfort her? Please." Felix whispered. Before Jeongin could even give permission the beta ran up the stairs and pulled the female wolf into his room, allowing her to growl, hiss and cry. Felix wanted her to let out all the emotions she felt so he could comfort her, but it didn't last long, because Chan came back. "Y/N GET HERE NOW!"

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627 @maggicotton @jellymochii @itzreetal987 @jennibahng @vampkittenb82 @catlove83 @thatgirlangelb @hyunmikim @skzdreamer13 @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @tsunderelintz @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx @fr34k4c1dr41n

~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~

[saphiccarma]

Can I request a Rio x Reader one shot where Reader gets hurt during her trial and Rio takes care of her afterwards ? Just some sweet hurt/ comfort 😭

- Did you get enough love, my little dove?

Relationships: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: After Alice's trial, comes yours. You weren't prepared to deal with past memories of pain.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. Fluff

A/N: I'm sorry that the requests are taking so long for me to get through! I promise I'm working on them.

The New Moon was high in the sky, its light shining down through the trees. You meandered at the back of the group, Rio lingering next to you, her hand brushing against yours, soft and gentle. Rio wasn't often a kind person, often preferring to hide her care behind teasing remarks, but when she caught sight of the moon in the sky she knew who's trial it would be.

The coven approached a little cabin that stood there, bright grass blooming around it and flowers blossoming in the front. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the familiar building, your steps halting. Rio glanced back at you, a brow raised in a challenge, and your pride flared. You huffed before moving forward and marching towards the house.

"Who's trial is this?" Teen asked, examining the door that was locked. It had runes carved onto the front; ones meticulously carved out after days of work. You remember working them onto the door by hand, a project you devoted yourself to for days. You had carved runes all over the walls of the house, preventing other witches from using their magic, but the runes on the door were for a special reason alone.

Agatha hummed as she examined the runes before turning back to you with an expectant brow. The witch had visited you once while you lived here, searching for another gullible victim before moving on. You stepped up to the house, muttering a small spell and pressed your hand up to the door. The runes glowed a soft blue before it opened with a click. Jen muttered something to Alice behind you.

The coven entered the door and the minute they did, everyone disappeared. It seems this was a trial meant for you alone. While it struck you as odd, since the Road was intended for the coven, you let it slide. You scanned your old house, taking it in. The fireplace was lit with a few logs burning inside it. A book was set on the table in the center of the room, it's cover from having read it over and over.

You picked it up, reading over the pages as a soft smile crossed your face - peace washing over you. It was a book your mother had read to you as a child, an old book, and you could still hear her soft words as she stroked your hair. You didn't have the exact copy, it had been burned by witch hunters years ago, but this was close enough.

Just as you were about to settle on the couch, lost in the world of the book, the door burst open, shouts filling the room. You leapt up, hands poised to fight as you caught sight of familiar faces. Men, with masks on their face, and knives in their hands. Modern witch hunters. No guns, guns were too loud, too avoidable with magic. Backing up, your hands pressed into the wall. Their eyes were alight with sinister intent.

You glanced down at your hands as blue magic glowed, but also noticed that you were devoid of the scars you had received many years ago. The men approached, slowly, cornering you, and then one lunged. The minute he lunged, you copied your movements from the past, not learning from your mistakes, and tried to blast him. He flew back, hitting the wall, slumped and lifeless. It was one of the only times you had taken a life.

Even if you knew it happened, you stared horrified at his hollowed chest. You magic had created the gaping whole that tore all the way through him, burnt so that no blood could come out. It was a horrifying sight, one you would never get used to, no matter how many times you had killed.

While you were stunned another one of the men lunged, his hands securing a rope around yours.

Your magic was incapacitated.

You fought as he grabbed your wrists, hauling you close to the fire. Memories of the first time this happened were seared into your brain, but there was nothing you could do. No matter how hard you thrashed, no matter how much you kicked and screamed. Even as you cried for Rio, for anyone in the coven, it did nothing. The man pulled you down to the ground and so close to the fire that the heat licked your skin.

Taking a hold of your forearms, the witch hunter shoved your hands into fire. You clenched your teeth as it burned your fingers, refusing to let the pain escaped in the form of screams.

"You use these hands to hurt so many people, don't you?" he snarled into your ear, the words cutting deep into your chest. And before you had time to process them, there was a cold metal pressed against your back as the hem of your shirt was lifted up.

You knew what was coming. The blade pressed into your skin as you hands began to go numb into the fire. Words were carved into your back, painful and slow and tedious. Before he could finish both of the men were torn away. Rio had thrown one of them into the wall with Teen and Agatha tearing the other away from you.

Rio rushed forward after killing the man swiftly with her knife, rushing forward towards you. You scrambled back, wrists held tight to your chest and eyes frantically scanning the area. Pausing, Rio took in your state, and her face softened.

"My love," she cooed, crouching down and reaching out, but not touching, "It's Rio."

Your eyes met hers, and although it took you a moment to recognize her, you threw yourself at her, regardless of the pain, clinging to her desperately. With numb fingers, you sobbed into her shirt - hardly noticing that the back door slid open, revealing the road. Teen and Agatha stood away, the latter eyeing you with an odd mix of disdain and pity.

"Sweetheart, we have to leave." Rio gently helped you up, ignoring your whimper of pain and guided you out the door and onto the road once more. Once that was done your wounds vanished, disappearing completely.

You nearly sobbed in relief, until you noticed the scars still lingered. Some part of you had hoped they would be gone. Teen and Alice tried to approach you. He reached his hand out to touch your arm, a thing meant to be comforting, but Rio had her knife out as you flinched.

"Touch her and I will fucking kill you." She snarled, pulling you close, ignoring Agatha's scoff and Jen's annoyed sound. Rio dragged the two of you further away and set you down on the ground, gently sitting next to you.

You curled into her, resting your head on her lap as she stroked her hands through your hair. It felt divine to have her fingers tracing your jaw and slipping up and down your neck. Sighing, you pushed back into her stomach so that your face was buried. Her outfit allowed for skin-to-skin contact, and her cold skin was a nice contrast to the heat of the fire you had felt moments ago. Rio chuckled slightly, her fingers pausing, and she bent down to give place a tender kiss onto your head.

You were shaking in her gentle hold, eyes trained forward as you tried to push away the dull phantom pain and the lingering memories that danced beneath your eyes. Rio's fingers were soothing as they stroked your chin. A steady movement - up and down, tracing back up into your hair before going back down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," she whispered. You shook your head into her stomach, non-verbally telling her it wasn't her fault. Slowly, your body stopped shaking, but you still clung to her desperately. Her presence was grounding. She made you feel safe even though you felt like witch hunters would pop around the corner and attack you.

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, your head pressed into her stomach while she soothed your worried mind.

"You won't ever leave, right?" Your words were broken and raw, vulnerability at its truest form. At least for you.

Rio's hands froze in your hair, but she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, "Never."

[houserautha]

More Than Enough

Prequel to That’s Enough

Summary: An ambassador visiting your court tries to assert himself over Feyd, who can’t quite help himself.

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x f!Reader

Word Count: 869

Warnings: MDNI, graphic mention of sex, public humiliation??

A/N: I wrote That’s Enough first, but hopefully this coincides with it😂 My (Thanksgiving) gift to you

While there are plenty of benefits to being the na-Baroness, not excluding the na-Baron himself, you despise certain aspects of it. Especially when power hungry, selfish men and women from the other Noble houses take residence in your court. You can’t even decline them without fear of inciting some argument, so they tell you that they’re going to visit and you have to accept them with open arms.

You’re especially irritated tonight. An ambassador from a far away planet is your current, unwanted guest and Feyd insists on a feast to welcome him.

It was all just a dance, a show, put on to demonstrate your wealth and power.

“It’s important that he’s impressed,” Feyd had said earlier as he zipped up the back of your dress. “A majority of our weapon exports goes to him.”

It made sense, too. The ambassador, Talmage, was a large, robust man, reminiscence of the Baron. He spoke loudly like he thought everything he said was of utmost importance, though every word that he shouted made you grind your teeth. Too grandiose, too proud, too infuriating.

“Can’t we just kill him?” You whisper to Feyd, leaning to whisper in his ear.

His gaze never strays from Talmage, who’s rambling incessantly, but you see a flicker of amusement on his face. Feyd taps his fingers on your thigh. “Not now.”

“Later?”

He glances at you. “No.”

“I hate him,” you whisper furiously, “how long did you say he was staying here?”

“Till the end of the week.”

In reply, you groan and snatch up your wine glass. His soft, stifled chuckles dance up your spine as you gulp down the rest of your drink.

Feyd’s fingers make circles on your thighs now. “Just think,” he says, mouth on the shell of your ear, “I’ll spoil you with all of the profits we make.”

“You know material things mean little to me.”

“But you look so pretty in them. And without.”

You give his shoulder a playful shove. Talmage must catch this interaction because he laughs boisterously, face flushed with drink and glee. “Ah, young love.”

“Isn’t she devastating?” Feyd asks.

“Certainly. How you let her out of your sight, or your bedroom, I don’t know,” Talmage says, giggling like he’s made a particularly funny joke.

Feyd lowers his chin slightly. You recognize this as a warning but Talmage, either too drunk or too stupid, carries on anyway. “You must not get very much done around here, na-Baron.”

“I’m quite…dexterous,” Feyd replies.

Talmage grins. “Are you generous, as well?”

You stiffen. It’s one thing to play the part as the quiet, dutiful wife — you couldn’t care less how this ambassador perceives you — but you don’t tolerate the notion of being passed around.

“She’s treated quite well, I assure you,” Feyd says.

“You are young, and handsome,” Talmage says, “but I have remarkable more experience.” He looks pointedly at you then.

You open your mouth to reply, but Feyd beats you to it. His smile is lazy, arm falling behind your chair in a move that’s both casual and possessive. “I admire your boldness, Ambassador.“

“Ah, you deny your guest some amusement?”

“Feyd,” you breathe.

Arm still draped over your chair, he squeezes your shoulder, a silent acknowledgement. “My wife’s amusement is my only concern.”

“Then indulge her,” Talmage says.

“Indulge her.” Feyd smiles, a predator baring his teeth. “Let me tell you something, ambassador. I’ve amassed more wealth for the Harkonnen name than any of my predecessors. I’ve garnered respect from all of my soldiers. I’ve bested every man that’s challenged me in a duel, and,” his eyes flash dangerously, “I know how to fuck my wife.”

You nearly drop the glass of wine you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“I meant no offense, na-Baron,” the ambassador stammers out, suddenly aware of exactly who he was toying with.

You swiftly kick Feyd’s calf with the toe of your shoe. He doesn’t even flinch, though you exerted quite a bit of force behind the endeavor. Your husband leans forward.

“I fuck her until she doesn’t know anyone’s name but mine, until she’s weeping with my cum. I bend her over our bed and fuck into that sweet, tight cunt. Ambassador, you could only dream of a woman so wet for you, keening and begging for your cock. No amount of experience,” he spits this word out bitterly, “compares to how I fuck my wife until she’s spent and satisfied. You can trust that it’s more than enough.”

You squeeze your thighs together, torn between anger and desire. While you usually love it when Feyd gets this way — impassioned, unhinged — you don’t appreciate him describing your fucking to the ambassador and to all of the members of the court at the dinner table. You clear your throat, cheeks warm.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, taking the napkin from your lap and dropping it on the table.

Feyd is still too enraged to convince you to stay, trembling with restraint. You slip out of his grip and, avoiding the wide eyes of the courtiers, stride with as much dignity as you can manage out of the feast hall.

He would pay for this.

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 lucky punch: chapter two

chapter synopsis: when zoro brought you back to nami's, he didn't expect the whole crew to be there... and it seemed your relationship with the woman to ran deeper than he thought.

cw: high school/college au, violence, underage drinking, parties, mature themes, profanity, sports, reader is on the volleyball team, zoro is in kendo, you and zoro are both seniors and eighteen, etc.

Arriving at Nami's house, Zoro pulled into the driveway with a tired sigh, scooping both you and your purse up—seeing as you were out cold— before using his spare key to open the door and carry you over the threshold.

Though, he might as well have walked into another party.

Finally inside the house, the man was quick to realize that all the usual suspects were already there, loud chattering and uproarious laughter echoing throughout the large living room, each of his friends seeming to have escaped from the same party you did.

"Namiiii! Do you have any more meat?" Luffy called from the kitchen, head buried in the fridge as he rummaged around for something else to eat.

"Stop eating all the ladies' food, you jackass!" Sanji shouted, running over and kicking the boy away from the roast he had marinading. "That's not for you!"

"I'M HUNGRY!"

"YOU JUST GOT FINISHED EATING THREE DOUBLE CHEESEBURGERS!"

"Hey, bros! Could you get me some cola while you're up?" Franky asked, mindlessly flicking through the channels on Nami's flat-screen. "I'm SUPER thirsty."

"You shoulda seen me, Robin! That cop tried to stop me and I gave him what for!" Usopp bellowed, proudly puffing out his chest from his spot on the couch. "He was all like I'm gonna need to see some ID... and I was like You can see this right here! And I flipped him off just like that!"

"Usopp, you liar!" Luffy denied, struggling against Sanji as the man tried to pry him off the fridge door. "You turned tail and left me to deal with him by myself!"

"You didn't even drink! You were fine!" Usopp scoffed, "Besides, I had to go drop off Kaya first!"

"How was she? Did she get home okay?" Robin asked with a smile, crossing her legs and resting her cheek in her palm.

"She was a little shaken up, but I got her home safe and sound!" he grinned, attention snatched away from the boys at the opportunity to talk about Kaya, a small flush rising to his neck at the memory. "She even gave me a kiss for my chivalry!"

"How romantic."

"NAMI! CHOPPER'S ATTACKING ME AGAIN!" Brook screeched, running around the couch as the small brown puppy playfully chased him, nipping at his ankles.

"Cut it out, would ya?! I'm tryna watch the game!" Franky swatted at him, attempting to look around as the Wano Samurais scored the winning touchdown against the Onigashima Beasts. "HOOOO-YEAH! MY PARLAY JUST HIT!"

"LUFFY, GET AWAY FROM THE DAMN FRIDGE!" Sanji shouted, using all of his strength to tug the boy off the handle.

"NOT UNTIL I GET SOMETHING TO EAT!"

"WILL YOU MORONS SHUT UP?! I KNEW I SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU WITH THE POLICE!" Nami shrieked, thundering down the stairs. "I told you to clear out fifteen minutes ago! We've gotta go back to Bonney's and find my friend before it's too late!"

"Is this her?"

Even though his tone was low, everyone's attention snapped over to Zoro, eyes falling to the unconscious girl in his arms, along with the comically small, brown handbag on his shoulder.

"(y/n)!" Nami gasped, shoulders dropping with relief as she ran over to you, cupping your cheek in her hand. "Is she okay?! Zoro, what happened?!"

"She's fine," he assured, walking over to the couch and laying you down in an empty section. "I found her stumbling around in the street and managed to snatch her up before she got caught. Looks like she drank more than she could handle."

"She's beautiful!" Sanji clasped his hands together, eyes practically turning to hearts at the sight of you and your outfit.

"Is this your new friend, Nami?" Luffy asked, stuffing his face with chips as he walked over, "How come you didn't tell us?" 

"I did tell you!" she exclaimed, brows furrowed. "And for the record, she's not a new friend. I've known her for way longer than I've known you."

"Wait... really?" he raised a brow.

Nami nodded, glancing at your sleeping form.

"(y/n) and I have been best friends since pre-school. We were sat right next to each other, and managed to stay in the same classes all throughout elementary," she explained, a smile on her face. "The two of us were thick as thieves, but a few years back she got recruited by some volleyball camp and left to train."

Her grin widened, practically shaking with excitement.

"But now she's back and better than ever!" she turned to Robin, happily. "And she's joining the volleyball team, Robin!"

"I'm aware," the dark-haired girl smiled. "I met her during one of our summer tournaments. She's an excellent player, and Koala absolutely loves her."

"Is she really that good?" Franky asked, intrigued.

Nami nodded, relishing the opportunity to gush about you. "Mhmm! She's nationally ranked! Number one outside hitter in the highest girls' division!"

"Woah! Then she's gotta be strong!" Luffy smirked, giddily shifting in his seat as he adjusted his tan, backwards cap. "Wake 'er up so we can arm wrestle!"

"NO!" Sanji shouted, kicking him again.

"While this is all well and good, I do suggest we get her some water," Brook chimed, concerned. "She's looking a bit flushed."

"I'll get it!~" Sanji chirped, turning around and dancing his way into the kitchen.

Zoro rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Stupid ero-cook...'

"Not only that, but shouldn't we call her parents or something? They're probably worried sick wondering where she is," Usopp added.

"She's staying with me and Nojiko until her dad comes back from business in Dressrosa," Nami assured.

"Well then, if everything's in order, I think it's time to for me to get going," Robin sighed, standing up from the couch. "I'll need to be well rested for tomorrow's match."

"WAH?! (Y/N) DRANK THIS MUCH KNOWING SHE HAD TO PLAY A GAME TOMORROW?!" Usopp exclaimed.

"Bonney drank her under the table in Shots, but (y/n) insisted on continuing. She didn't wanna forfeit the challenge," Nami facepalmed.

"SHE CHALLENGED BONNEY?!" everyone exclaimed.

"SHE'S NEW TO TOWN! GIVE HER A BREAK!"

"Well, if we're all clearing out, I guess I can take this one home," Sanji sighed, picking up Luffy by the back of his shirt like a cat.

"Ken I keepmf thaw chips?" the boy asked, muffled, as he shoved another fistful into his face, Sanji carrying him toward the door.

"Wait for me, Sanji!" Usopp called, running after the two.

"Hurry the hell up!"

"You need a ride, Robin?" Franky asked with a smirk as they both headed out as well.

"That would be lovely," she smiled, a faint pink dusting her cheeks.

"Super! I can show you the new paint job I just did on the Sunny!" he grinned—the Sunny being an old Volkswagen van he tricked out two summers back.

While you were now home safe, for some reason, Zoro didn't want to leave yet, something about you sparking his interest.

Not only was he intrigued by the rather... interesting first impression you left on him, but also by the information he just learned.

You were strong, athletic, hard-working, pretty—and kind, if Nami and Robin were friends with you.

It seemed like you had the whole package.

"Zoro, do you need a ride as well?" Brook asked, softly, snapping the green-haired man out of his thoughts.

"Nah, I brought my truck," he politely declined. "Gonna head home myself."

"I see. Then, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya then. Night, Brook."

"Wait, Zoro," Nami stopped, the man turning to her with a raised brow. "Before you go, can you give (y/n) the water Sanji brought? I'm gonna go change out of this dress."

But before he could even answer, the woman was already running up the stairs, and Brook was already out the door, leaving you and him alone in the living room.

'For Christ's sake...'

Begrudgingly, Zoro walked over to the couch, taking as seat next to your head as he lightly shook you awake.

"Oi, (y/n)," he stated, your first name sounding foreign on his tongue. "Get up. Drink some water."

Slowly, you started to stir awake, eyes fluttering as you let out a soft groan, your head feeling like it was filled with rocks.

Groggily, you sat up, squinting at the light as you swayed slightly.

'Jeez...'

"Here," he held up the glass, calloused hand coming up to cradle the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back, "Drink."

Slowly, you gulped back some of the liquid, the ice cooling your flushed skin.

In the meantime, Zoro kept his gaze fixated on you, falling hypnotized as he watched you, who somehow seemed graceful even in your sluggish state.

Exhausted, you finished drinking before dropping your head into the his shoulder, taking a moment to inhale his scent.

He smelled like a man—notes of sweat, steel, pine, and mint lingering around him.

You liked it.

"Thanks," you groaned into his skin, your sober self fighting through your sleepiness to show you had at least some manners. "I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass... You're a really nice guy..."

He let out a slight chuckle, his heart warming at your apology.

You were adorable.

"Don't worry about it," he assured, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "You need help gettin' up to your room?"

Embarrassed, you looked down at yourself, lip jutting in a pout as you gave him a weak nod.

"I got you," Zoro scooped you up once again, moving toward the steps and starting the trek to the guest room.

As he carried you up the stairs, you took the time to get a better look at the extremely hot guy holding you.

His pronounced jawline... his dark, bedroom eyes... his muscular figure... they all led your mind to thoughts of what exactly you'd do to this man if given the chance.

Noticing your eyes on him, he raised a brow, eyes glinting mischievously as he saw you blush and cower under his gaze.

'Adorable...'

Your knight in shining black tank-top carried you all the way to your room and set you down on the bed, tugging off your chunky boots before tucking you under the covers.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, and Zoro gave you one more once over before quietly exiting the room, carefully shutting the door behind himself before he turned around.

Only to be bombarded by a rather tenacious, red-haired woman...

"She's a cutie right?" Nami asked with a smirk, cutting right to the chase.

"I'm tired, Nami," Zoro sighed, rubbing the ache at the back of his neck as he stepped around her, heading toward the stairs.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that. I saw the way you were looking at her," she pressed on, trailing after him. "You liiike her~"

"I don't like anything," he corrected, flatly. "She was drunk and I helped her. That's all."

"Betchu thought about helping yourself to something else in that outfit she was wearing..."

He turned as red as a tomato, his entire face burning with embarrassment and eyes widening at the accusation.

"WHAT?! NO!"

Obviously... yes.

"Will you shut up?! You're gonna wake her!" she shushed, brows furrowed at his volume.

"What do you take me for?! I'm not some pervert like the damn love cook!"

"Alright, then! Don't get your panties in a bunch! Jeez..." Nami rolled her eyes. "Are you coming to her match tomorrow after school? I'm bringing out the whole crew to cheer her on for her first game back."

Zoro perked slightly at the offer.

It would be a chance to see you in action, and to have a conversation while sober.

"Yeah, sure, why not."

"Perfect," Nami smiled, giving him a pat on the back. "Oh, and before you leave..."

She held out her other hand, her fingers wiggling expectantly.

"My fifty dollars..."

Grumbling to himself, Zoro shoved his hands in his pockets, rummaging around and pulling out a crumpled twenty, four fives, five ripped ones, and a dollar in quarters.

"Pleasure doing business with you. See ya tomorrow!"

"Whatever..."

[sturnswrites]

terms and conditions - pt.2

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

⤳ you move in with the triplets after losing your apartment prompting a "roommate agreement". after having a tricky relationship with matt, some of the rules begin to blur.

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

The first few days of moving in were... an adjustment. Sharing a house with three brothers was like stepping into a live sitcom, complete with chaotic energy, random outbursts, and an alarming amount of inside jokes I didn’t understand yet.

“Y/N! You left your shoes by the door again!” Nick shouted from the living room.

You poked my head out from your room. “And?”

“And I almost broke my neck tripping over them! You trying to kill me?”

Chris’s laughter echoed from the kitchen. “Yeah, Y/N, if you want to take Nick out, at least make it look like an accident.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled something about dramatics, heading downstairs to retrieve the offending sneakers. Nick was sprawled on the couch, singing some ridiculous pop song at the top of his lungs.

“Is it always like this?” you asked, pointing toward him.

Matt, who was quietly scrolling on his phone in the armchair, glanced up. “Worse, sometimes.” His voice was flat, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Chris leaned over from the kitchen. “This is actually him on a calm day.”

- 

One evening, after a particularly long day, you trudged into the kitchen in search of a snack. The house was quiet for once, which was rare.

“Hey, Matt, do we have any—” you stopped mid-sentence, your brain stuttering to a halt.

Matt stood by the counter, shirtless, a glass of water in hand. The dim light from above highlighted the definition of his shoulders and the lean muscles of his torso. His hair was messy, looking like he had just woken up from a nap, and there was a quiet confidence about him that made the room feel smaller.

He turned, brow furrowed. “What?”

“Nothing. I—uh, I was just—” you gestured vaguely at the pantry, suddenly hyper-aware of how small the kitchen felt.

“Looking for something?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as if he knew exactly why you were flustered.

“Yeah. A snack. But it’s fine. I’ll... I’ll just grab it later.” you turned to leave, but your sock caught on the edge of the rug, and you stumbled.

Matt’s hand shot out, steadying you with a firm grip on your arm.

The brief contact sent a jolt through you, and when you looked up, his face was closer than you expected. His light eyes held yours for a beat too long, and your breath hitched.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low.

The air between you two shifted, heavy with something unspoken.

Before either of you could say a word, Chris’s voice rang out from the living room. “Matt! Are you still hogging the kitchen?”

Matt let go of your arm, clearing his throat. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Sure,” you mumbled, practically running out of the room.

Later that night, long after the others had gone to bed, you found yourself lying in your room, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards as someone shifted in their sleep.

You weren’t tired. Not really.

Your mind kept drifting back to earlier in the kitchen—the way Matt had looked at you, his brow furrowed in that way that made him seem more serious than he actually was. Or how the light had cast a faint glow over his skin, every muscle in his torso so defined it could’ve been sculpted.

You groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. Get a grip, Y/N.

It wasn’t just how he looked, though. It was the way he had steadied you, his grip firm yet gentle, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to let go. And then there was the tone of his voice, low and calm, like he had some kind of unintentional pull over the air around him.

You turned onto your side, burying your face in the pillow. It was nothing. Just an awkward moment between roommates.

Except... it wasn’t nothing, was it?

You’d known Matt for a while now, long enough to recognize that he didn’t let people in easily. He kept most of the world at arm’s length, guarded and cool. But in that moment, when his hand lingered on your arm, it felt different. Like he was letting you in, just for a second.

It was ridiculous to overthink it. You’d agreed—sworn—to keep things platonic. And yet, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had felt it too, that unspoken charge in the air between you two.

You let out a frustrated sigh and rolled onto your back again. “You’re being ridiculous,” you whispered to yourself.

Still, sleep didn’t come easily. And when it finally did, it was filled with flashes of dark eyes, quiet smirks, and the ghost of a touch that lingered far too long.

-

The next day, while you were out shopping with Alyssa, Matt and Chris were hanging out in the living room, Nick upstairs editing.

“So...” Chris started, his tone dripping with amusement.

Matt didn’t look up from his phone. “What?”

“Y/N,” Chris said, dragging out the name.

Matt’s head snapped up. “What about her?”

Chris grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just... there’s some tension there, don’t you think?”

“There’s no tension,” Matt said flatly, but his shoulders were stiff.

“Right,” Chris said, nodding exaggeratedly. “Totally normal for you to go all stoic every time she’s around.”

“Chris,” Matt warned.

“Relax, dude. I’m just saying,” Chris continued, his grin widening. “You’re usually Mr. Cool and Collected, but with her? It’s like you don’t know where to put your hands.”

Matt glared at him. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris said, holding up his hands in surrender. But the glint in his eyes said he wasn’t done stirring the pot.

-

The first time all four of you ended up in the living room late at night, it wasn’t planned. You had gone down to the kitchen for a glass of water, only to find Nick already sprawled across the couch with his laptop balanced on his knees. He was wearing headphones and mouthing the words to a song you couldn’t hear, completely lost in whatever he was editing.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Nick startled slightly, yanking off his headphones. “Oh, hey! Nah, just finishing this edit. It’s way quieter at night, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you replied, smiling as you grabbed your glass.

You hadn’t planned on staying, but before you knew it, Chris came up from downstairs, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. He plopped onto the couch next to Nick, his hair a mess.

“What’s this, an impromptu sibling meeting without me?” he joked, yawning loudly.

“More like an insomniacs’ club,” you said, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table.

Minutes later, Matt emerged from his room, looking far more composed than the rest of you despite the late hour. His eyes scanned the room briefly before he wordlessly sat in the armchair, his quiet presence rounding out the group.

It started simple—Nick rambling about the video he was editing, asking for input that none of you were awake enough to give. Chris chimed in with random anecdotes from his day, weaving exaggerated stories that had us all cracking up, despite how absurd they were.

And then there was Matt, who sat quietly for most of it, his smirks and soft chuckles a steady undercurrent to the lively conversation. He only jumped in when he had something particularly clever or sarcastic to say, and when he did, it always left Nick groaning, Chris clutching his stomach with laughter, and you shaking your head, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

At one point, the conversation shifted to childhood memories, and the brothers began trading stories about growing up together.

“Matt used to eat dirt when he was, like, five,” Chris said, grinning devilishly.

“I did not eat dirt,” Matt shot back, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his faint smile.

“You absolutely did,” Nick chimed in. “You said it was ‘flavorful.’”

You burst out laughing, and Matt groaned, leaning back in the chair. “This is why I don’t talk during these things.”

“Oh, come on, you love us,” Chris teased, throwing a pillow at Matt, who caught it effortlessly.

The mood was light, easy, and for the first time since moving in, you felt like you were really starting to fit into their dynamic.

At one point, Nick started playing music from his laptop, singing along dramatically to every word. Chris joined in, his voice completely off-key, and soon enough, we were all belting out the chorus to some early 2000s pop song, the kind of music that only sounds good when you’re singing it at the top of your lungs with friends.

Matt, to your surprise, even sang a little, though it was more of a quiet hum under his breath. It was rare to see him this relaxed, and it caught you off guard how much you liked it.

By the time the night wound down, you all were all half-asleep. Chris had completely passed out on the couch, Nick was still typing something on his laptop but moving slower than before, and Matt remained in the armchair, his gaze flicking between you as if making sure you were all okay before calling it a night.

You caught his eye for a brief moment, and he gave you the faintest smile, one that felt softer, more genuine than the others he’d given throughout the night.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, standing and stretching.

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

As you climbed the stairs to your room, you felt a strange sense of belonging settle over you. This house, chaotic and unpredictable as it was, was starting to feel like home.

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

[sloanesallow]

Mama's Potatoes

Sebastian doesn't know how to cook. Good thing the Niffler does. Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Siobhan Sloane) Tags: Domestic life, Peter the Niffler, pregnancy, potatoes. 1.8k words A/N: I wrote this while grieving the loss of my cat, Peter. Sloane's Niffler has always been named after him, so this was just another way for me to honor him. Thank you for reading. He loved potatoes, too. [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

Sebastian doesn't know what he's doing.

It's a rare feeling. He's not stupid—he wouldn't be the youngest curse-breaker at the Ministry if he were—and usually knows how to handle a daunting situation. Crazed Inferi, dangerous artifacts, unusual hexes, you name it. But this...this is a new level of difficulty.

He's been standing in the kitchen since sunrise, flipping through old cookbooks and Sloane's recipe journals, looking for something—anything—within his skillset. Despite his wife's numerous demonstrations and seemingly limitless patience, he has never quite gotten the hang of cooking. If his father-in-law were there, he'd scold Sebastian. What self-respecting man can't cook for his pregnant, bedridden wife?

He hates this, hates that he isn't good at something so simple.

It should, in theory, be akin to potions, which he excels at. But alchemy isn't the same as cuisine—you can't just throw everything in a pot and hope for the best—not if you want it to taste good. Cooking is science, not magic, regardless of how easy Sloane makes it look. Maybe that's why she's so good at it, because she insists on doing it without spells. She's a natural, and Sebastian...

Well, it's a good thing he provides in other ways.

With the birth of their child imminent, however, she's resigned to the bed, on strict orders from the nurses at St. Mungos to keep off her feet. This leaves Sebastian in charge of the meals, which he knows are lackluster, even if Sloane never complains. If they were still in London, he'd pop out and grab something from the local shops, or hire one of the house elves in their old building as a cook. But they moved to the countryside in preparation for Little Sallow's arrival, settling down where he'll need to be self-sufficient.

What he wants is to prepare something hearty and healthy, something warm to lift her spirits before the baby comes. Sebastian allows himself five more minutes of wallowing in self-pity before opening another worn journal, hoping he'll see something he's helped Sloane make before. These recipes aren't in her familiar script, but he quickly finds something promising—Beef Stew.

Except...half the instructions are in Irish.

Sebastian grumbles to himself—just another thing he hasn't mastered. He's learned a few languages in his lifetime, largely due to the thirst for knowledge and travel associated with his work, but Irish isn't one of them. And while his wife is of Irish descent, she speaks it so infrequently that he never caught on.

"This must be her mum's," he says aloud, discouraged. He continues to read over the old parchment and the idea of surprising Sloane with one of her mother's recipes is too enticing to shake.

Sebastian is nothing if not ambitious.

The best-case scenario is that he manages to cook a delicious meal. Worst case, he blows up their kitchen. It wouldn't be the first time.

Emboldened, he gets to work, rolling up his sleeves and clearing off the counter so he has space to prep. Instructions in hand, he grabs everything he needs—or thinks he needs—pots and pans and cutlery, and lights the stove with the flick of his wand. Before he can do anything else, it is yanked out of his hand and he whirls around to find Peter, Sloane's beloved Niffler, already stashing the wand away in his pouch.

"Merp!"

"Hey!" Sebastian shouts before clenching his jaw, glancing toward the hallway that leads to where Sloane is still sleeping. He looks back at Peter in annoyance. The two tolerate each other, but mostly bicker about who Sloane loves more. "Give that back, Peter. I need it—"

"Merp!" he interrupts, batting Sebastian's hand away when he tries to touch his fur.

Sebastian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't have time for this."

Peter makes a series of noises that sound very much like the Niffler is mocking him as he stares at the tattered journal in Sebastian's hands.

"What?" he sarcastically laughs. "Are you going to help me?"

For a Niffler, Peter is incredibly expressive, furrowing his brow and blinking his beady little eyes. "Merp."

Sebastian can't believe he's about to have a Niffler be his sous-chef. "Fine."

"It's beef stew, at least I hope it is," he continues, reading over the recipe again. "Sloane must have it memorized because I've never seen her use this."

Peter chitters.

"Right," he mumbles, moving to the cold box where they keep their perishables. "At least this is in English. Two pounds of roast, cut into small cubes."

Sebastian places the parchment-wrapped meat on the counter before scratching at his chin. "One point of...what is...prátaí?" He frowns, reluctantly looking at Peter for guidance.

The Niffler huffs and carefully scales down the side of the counter before scurrying toward the garden door. He pushed through the little flap Sloane installed, poking his head back in a moment later to glare.

"MERP!"

Sebastian follows after the little beast until they are in the middle of Sloane's vegetable garden. There's a little bit of everything, and even though they have the space (and magic) to grow whatever her heart desires, she's kept a modest size. Peter digs at the soft soil, right beneath a small plot marker that reads Mama's Potatoes.

"Oh," Sebastian hums, feeling dumber than before. He grabs a nearby basket before crouching down to take the unearthed potatoes from Peter. "Since when do you know Irish?"

"Merp," Peter answers, as if to say 'I'm smarter than you, Sallow'.

The Niffler continues to roam the garden, bringing Sebastian the vegetables and herbs he needs for the meal. When the basket is full, the two head back inside where Peter monitors the prep work with an intimidating aura that rivals Papa Sloane.

Sebastian follows the instructions the best he can, relying on memory and Peter's so-called translations. He tenses every time routinely grabs his wrist to correct his movements, wondering if he should hand over the knife to let Peter cut the vegetables but figures. Then again, the last thing he needs right now is a knife-wielding Niffler.

He cooks the meat in a hot skillet until the cut pieces are lightly browned, before moving on to the vegetables—sauteing the diced onion, garlic, rosemary, and bay leaves until they are soft. Peter pushes over the bottle of red wine, and Sebastian carefully pours the liquid into the pan, stirring until Peter gestures to add the beef broth. Once everything is combined, he adds back in the meat and secures the lid before placing it into the hot oven.

"Should be ready in..." he reads over Mama Sloane's instructions.

"Merp," Peter chirps, tapping the counter three times.

"Three hours," Sebastian nods.

He takes some time to tidy up and quietly sneaks down the hall to see his wife still fast asleep. Too nervous to leave the food unattended again, he makes himself comfortable on the floor in front of the oven and starts counting the minutes as they pass by. Peter joins him for a little while but eventually disappears, only returning when it's time to add in the rest of the vegetables.

An hour later, Sebastian holds his breath, protective mitts trembling as he pulls the steaming pot from the oven. He prays to Merlin, and maybe a few other deities, before slowly lifting the lid to inspect the final product. Peter climbs back onto the counter to peer inside, his bill opening slightly as he sniffs the air.

"Want some?" Sebastian quips, scooping a hefty portion into a bowl.

Peter shakes his tiny head. "Merp."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Sebastian mutters, taking a bite for himself. It's not bad, though he isn't sure if that means it's good, either. It certainly tastes just about the same as when Sloane makes it, but doubt swirls in his mind. "I hope she likes it."

If he hoped for some semblance of encouragement from Peter, he doesn't receive it. Instead, the Niffler huffs and leaps from the counter before scampering away. Sebastian reminds himself to find the little troublemaker later so he can get his wand back. Good thing Peter can't perform magic—right?

Sebastian places the bowl onto a tray, along with a spoon and a cloth napkin. He tears off some bread from the loaf he (barely managed) to bake the day before and runs back out to the garden to pluck a few flowers for good measure. After steadying his nerves the best he can, he ventures back down the hall to the bedroom.

Sloane is awake now, reclining in their bed, eyes closed as she smooths her hands across her rounded belly. She glances up as Sebastian crosses the threshold, surprise lighting up her expression when she spots the tray in his hands.

"You cooked?" she asks, struggling to sit up. Sebastian quickly sets the food down on the nightstand so he can help her, softly laughing at the way she's too focused on the steam rising from the bowl to cooperate. She sniffs the air. "Is that...my mother's stew?"

He falters when he notices the shine of tears in her eyes, making sure she's comfortably leaning against the pile of pillows. Her emotions have been heightened, to put it mildly, throughout the pregnancy, but he still didn't anticipate tears.

"Hey, hey," he coos, brushing back her hair and swiping his thumbs across her cheeks. "It's alright, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you don't starve."

"Well I am starving," she whines and he holds back his amusement, kissing away her pout.

"Here," he says, making sure Sloane has a good handle on the bowl before leaning back. "I uhh...hope it turned out right."

Sloane takes a moment to take in the aromas, smiling at him with glossy eyes as she stirs the bowl. "Thank you."

Sebastian can't respond, not when he's still terrified that he's done something wrong. He watches her, unblinking, as she finally takes a taste. As soon as the spoon is in her mouth, her eyes go wide and she goes still. He panics, leaning forward to grasp her shoulders and tug the spoon from her hand and mouth.

"Sloane? What is it—oh fuck—" he curses, heart racing, clumsily placing the food back on the tray before fussing over her again. "Did I poison you? Are you dying?"

Sloane snaps out of the trance to shake her head, her mouth twitching into a shaky smile. She grabs one of Sebastian's hands and presses it to her enlarged abdomen. His chest tightens for a completely different reason when she finally speaks.

"I think the baby's coming."

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 💛

[boysinmaidoutfits]

Ocean eyes

Stepbrother au

Warnings: curses

mainly inspired by the Billie Eilish song ocean eyes🫢

Summary:You and rafe were step siblings, ever since your parents met they just had to be together. Rafe hated that though, so he ultimately hated you. He was mean, and always doing something to make everyone angry at him. Except you. You liked Rafe, even if he he was so mean sometimes for no reason you still remained sweet to him, the sweetest girl in fact, and that’s what annoyed Rafe the most. You clung to him always, especially when your parents were out, or away, like they were this weekend.

It was just you and rafe in the house, he sat in the living room, “Rafeyy!” I shout as I come down the stairs, as soon as I arrive in the living room I see Rafe’s blonde hair and broad shoulders as he slumps back to couch with a gruff look on his face as he watched the tv. "Shh! For fuck's sake, will you be quiet?" He muttered under his breath "Always fuckin' noisy..." he takes a swig of his beer, deliberately avoiding looking at you "What do you want, y/n?” I sit down next to him on the couch, our arms slightly touching which was seeking me more comfort than it should. “Just wanted to spend some time with my stepbrother, what are you watching?” He rolls his eyes as you sit next to him, his arm tensing as you get too close for comfort. "Last nights game, you're gonna sit here and stare at the tv with me?" He asks sarcastically, taking another swig of his beer. “Thats what i was planning on doing yeah.. if it bothers you just say so god..” I slightly roll my eyes, i never understood his attitude and why he was so cold all the time towards me. "I don't want you near," He snaps, his temper flaring. "Happy now?" He takes another swig of his beer, trying to drown out the fact that you're still sitting there acting all nice to him. “Fine, I.. I guess I’ll just go then..” i mutter as i stand up to leave with a disappointed look on my face, as i start heading to the kitchen.

A few moments pass, it feels so quiet but Rafe’s thoughts aren’t, he gets up from the couch, his feet carrying him to the kitchen despite his brain telling him not to. He leans against the doorframe, watching you as you grab some food. He hates how you always look so sad when he snaps at you.

As i rummage through the fridge and get some ingredients, i hear a slight creak causing me to turn around, and there he was, Rafe standing right in the door. “You need something?” I ask, i cant help but still be nice to him, this is one of the traits i hated about myself, my niceness. "No," He says gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just came to see what you were doing." He watches as you turn back to the fridge, his eyes trailing over your small figure. He quickly looks away, not wanting to get caught staring. “Well.. im gonna make your favorite so you better be hungry.” I turn around smiling up at him with all the food piled up in my hands, i quickly settle it down on the counter. “Im not hungry y/n..”he snaps, even Rafe didn’t know why he snapped at you, why was he so annoyed by your presence? What was even his issue? He walks further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. "You're too fucking stubborn for your own good, you know that?" I look up at him. “Oh so im the jerk for caring for you or what?” I slightly raise my voice which usually never even happens, but this time he was acting really stubborn. “And what is that even supposed to mean?! Look at how YOU’RE acting right now..” I huff. "It means you don't take no for an answer, even when it's clearly what someone wants," His eyes trace your features, noting how the harsh kitchen light brings out the freckles across your nose. "Like right now." “I really don’t wanna play one of your games tonight Rafe, plus all this shit that you’re doing doesn’t affect me get that in your head.” I turn away from him refocusing on preparing the food, “Oh, it'll affect you," He says, his voice cold. "It'll affect you more than you realize." He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. "You think you're so fucking tough, but you're not." He looks at me with his piercing cold ocean blue eyes, all i see is hatred. I realize im not tough, my eyes began to tear up and my throat goes dry i try to look away, pull away, but his grip is tight. He notices the tears welling up in your eyes and something inside him snaps. "Fuck," He curses, his grip on your chin tightening. "Don't cry, goddamn it." He pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly against him. I breathe in his rich woody cologne and the words “Im sorry..” spills out from my mouth. "Don't apologize," He murmurs, one hand moving to stroke your hair while the other keeps you firmly against his chest. His heart is racing, beating against your ear. "Stop... being so fucking sweet to me," He whispers, voice cracking slightly. "It makes everything... harder."

[msilwrites]

Papa and Mama Bear's Kitchen (Another Short, or not so short...) Part 2 - (Captain Price Fic)

(A/N): Hi guys! For those enjoying Papa Bear content, here’s a fun peek into the future! This is Part 2 of the short story set after Captain Price has already won you (Y/N!) over, and the two of you are now engaged after a few years of dating. This idea popped into my head during lunch, and I just had to share it. Hope you enjoy this playful little story of domestic chaos with Price and the team! 😄

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want to me tagged when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments) (I think you folks might like this one, so I also tagged you, lol!) Shout out to @darkangel4121!! I couldn’t stop imagining Price standing there, radiating pure "overprotective fiancé energy," while silently interrogating Gaz with his eyes and don’t get me started on how he’d glare at Simon and Roach. Honestly, that level of possessiveness? It's gold. So yes, a bit of chaos is coming. Thanks for the inspiration, darkangel4121!!!

Warning: Don’t read when you’re hungry.

😄😄😄😄😄

NOTE: Take note, that when they say boss, they refer to You (Y/N)

---------- The living room was a cacophony of noise, a riotous blend of cheers, groans, and the occasional clink of beer bottles as the rugby game played out on the screen. The sound of the crowd roaring from the TV mingled with the tense energy in the room, as if every pass, every tackle, was a matter of life and death. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, their eyes locked onto the game with the intensity of soldiers preparing for a mission.

Y/N stood near John's seat, gripping her beer, her nerves making her fidget. She couldn’t bring herself to sit down—every second felt too crucial. Her gaze flicked between John and the game, sensing his presence beside her but not quite able to focus on him with the tension that seemed to hang in the air.

Around them, the lads were a mix of quiet mutters and sporadic outbursts, all bracing for whatever might come next. Gaz, normally the most relaxed of the bunch, had a tight grip on his beer, eyes wide with concentration. Roach was standing up, his legs bouncing restlessly, while Simon kept nervously running a hand through his hair, clearly caught up in the anxiety of the moment.

Every time the camera zoomed in on a player or the referee blew the whistle, the room collectively held its breath. The house was almost too quiet for the amount of people in it, save for the game’s soundtrack and the occasional shout.

Y/N’s heart raced, her own hands fidgeting. She glanced at John, noting his unwavering focus on the screen. His body was still, but his hands were restless—clenching and unclenching near his beer. Even the Captain wasn’t immune to the intensity of the game.

The final whistle blew, and the room erupted into cheers and groans. The lads jumped up from their seats, clapping and shouting, relieved that their team had made it to the finals. Y/N let out a breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding in, watching the players celebrate on-screen.

"Finally!" she muttered, feeling the tension lift from her shoulders. Her team had won, and that was all that mattered. She handed John her half-finished beer without a second thought, not really wanting to finish it anymore. She just needed the moment to settle, the excitement of the game washing away in relief.

John glanced down at the beer, then back at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re not going to finish this?" he teased, but his expression softened when he saw how content she looked.

Y/N shook her head, a light smile playing on her lips. "Not tonight, Captain. I’m just glad that the games over."

As the lads began to talk animatedly about the game, debating crucial moments and play calls, Y/N headed to the kitchen. She grabbed some disposable tupperware and returned to the living room, setting them down on the coffee table. She also pulled out the large container of potato salad, the lid coming off with a satisfying pop as she set it down next to the tupperware.

John glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you doing with all that food?"

Y/N shot him a teasing look. "Don’t be possessive, John. I’ll make you something nice tomorrow," she said with a wink.

The lads wasted no time eyeing the leftovers like a treasure trove. "Permission from the boss, lads!" Gaz grinned, practically diving into the potato salad with gusto. Simon and Roach quickly followed suit, eagerly filling their tupperware with all the remaining snacks, but not without stealing cautious glances at their Captain.

"Boss said we could," Simon joked, packing his container with extra helpings. "Can’t waste good food, eh?"

Roach, with his trademark cheeky grin, added, "Boss knows best," as he glanced at John, who stood nearby with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.

John rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. Though it was clear he wasn't angry—more like resigned. Today, the lads had taken over, and despite his usual protectiveness, he couldn't help but let them enjoy themselves.

As Y/N busied herself in the kitchen, packing a neat assortment of scones into containers and rummaging through her pantry for jars of lentil chips, John got up from his seat, his protective instincts kicking in. Hearing her in the pantry, he moved to join her, his imposing frame effortlessly reaching the jars she was looking for.

“You could’ve just asked,” John said, handing them over. His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his gesture.

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Simon and Roach were still enthusiastically loading up their tupperware. Between bites of leftover potato salad, Simon turned to Gaz. “So, Gaz, if the lady boss hosts another dinner with your circle, think we could tag along?”

Roach chimed in with a grin, “Yeah, mate. The food’s too good to pass up. Plus, it sounds like your mates might know how to throw a decent get-together.”

Gaz leaned back with a knowing smirk. “Of course, you can. They’d love to meet you. Most of them are into rugby, just like us. And if you’re lucky, they might bring their own specialties—cooks, bakers, proper foodies. A mix of good eats and good laughs.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Bakers, you say? Now that’s the kind of circle I’d like to meet.”

Gaz chuckled. “They’re actually cops, like our lady boss here. We all became friends because of our love for food and cooking. Some of us met back at the Police Academy, others while working in the units. We bonded over long shifts and and good food, and it stuck. These days, we trade recipes as much as rugby banter.”

Roach grinned. “Cops who cook and bake? That’s not a circle—it’s a secret society of foodies!!”

Simon smirked. “As long as they’ve got a pint to go with it, count me in.”

Gaz nodded. “Oh, they’ve got that covered. Craft beers, imports— fine whisky, bourbon, you name it. It’s not about getting plastered; it’s about appreciating the good stuff. Pairing a proper brew with the right meal? That’s an art form to them.”

Roach raised his beer with a grin. “I like the sound of that. And if the cooking’s as good as Y/N’s, I might never leave.”

Simon snorted. “You’ll leave when the Captain drags you out by the ear.”

As the lads laughed, still envisioning themselves feasting among Gaz’s culinary cop friends, they suddenly froze. A low laugh, far too sweet and deliberate, drifted from behind them. The kind of laugh that sends a chill down your spine and makes you question all your life choices.

They turned in unison to find John Price leaning over the back of the sofa, his elbows propped casually and his palms cradling his chin. His expression? A smile so charming it could have melted hearts—if it weren’t for the faintly murderous gleam in his eyes.

“Which dinner are you all going to, hmm?” he asked, his voice syrupy smooth, his gaze shifting between them.

Gaz’s grin faltered. Roach’s hand stopped mid-scoop of potato salad. Simon, ever the picture of composure, tightened his grip on his beer as if it were a lifeline.

“Uh…” Roach started, but the words got caught somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

Price’s smile widened, though it somehow grew sharper, like a lion deciding which gazelle to pounce on. The lads knew one thing for sure—they’d walked straight into enemy territory without realizing it.

Gaz, desperate to break the suffocating silence and distract from Price’s ominously sweet demeanor, cleared his throat and began rambling. “Uhmm... well, Captain, see… since you sort of gave the green light for Y/N to rejoin our circle’s dinner rotation, I thought... you know... it’d be nice to, uh, bring the lads as my plus ones. You know, introduce them to the group. But don’t worry! It’s mostly potlucks! Y/N wouldn’t have to put in much effort at all. We’d just, uh... we’d cook in her kitchen and—”

Gaz’s voice trailed off, each word weaker than the last, as Price’s unsettlingly sweet smile remained unwavering. Simon and Roach, standing stock still like soldiers in an ambush, were no help whatsoever.

“Mmhmm,” Price hummed, tilting his head slightly, his voice dripping with mock-playful menace. “And you didn’t invite me, Gaz?”

Gaz audibly gulped, his face a picture of pure panic. “I-I mean, uh... you’re the lady boss’s partner, so I thought—uh—it was, you know, automatic, Captain?” he stammered out, looking to Roach for backup.

Roach, still clutching his half-filled Tupperware, squeaked out, “Yeah, yeah! Totally automatic! You’re, uh... you’re like... pre-invited, sir.” His grin was strained, and he might’ve been sweating. “I mean, you’re practically the head of the table, right?”

Simon, the only one managing to keep his poker face, muttered under his breath, “Should’ve stayed quiet, Roach...”

Price leaned forward just enough to make the lads instinctively inch back. “Pre-invited?” he repeated, his tone carrying just enough faux cheer to send a shiver through the room. “Well then, it sounds like I’m overdue for an introduction to this... circle.”

Price’s smile never wavered as he leaned in a little closer, his voice smooth but dripping with just enough edge to make the lads squirm. "Mmm, I see how familiar you all are with Y/N’s kitchen... and pantry. It’s almost like you live here." He tilted his head, letting the words hang in the air. "Just HOW familiar are you with her? Was there more to your friendship than I know of?"

Gaz, feeling the heat of the situation, raised his hands in a panic. "No, no, no, Captain Price, it’s not like that! Y/N’s always been like an older sister to me, back in the Police unit! Nothing more, I swear!" His eyes darted nervously to Simon and Roach, who were now visibly trying not to laugh—or die from secondhand embarrassment.

Simon quickly added, “Yeah, mate, ‘Mama Bear,’ that’s what we call her. She’s like an older sister to us too, looking out for us, keeping us grounded.”

Roach nodded enthusiastically, as if this would somehow ease the tension. “Yes, she's an older sister to us. Always watching out, keeping us in line!!”

Gaz, still sweating, added with an awkward grin, “Exactly! We all respect our older sister, Captain!”

Price’s eyes never left them. His smile turned just a little colder, and he gave a slow nod, as though assessing their responses.

Price let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. He casually leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well, just to clarify," he said, almost lazily, "I may be retired, but don’t mistake that for weakness. I’ve still got some fight in me." “And as for Y/N...” Price said, voice dropping just a notch, the smirk still there but now with a hint of seriousness. “You’re all welcome to admire and enjoy her cooking, but remember—she’s my WIFE, lads, and the love of my life.” He emphasized, eyes narrowing as he looked each of them over.

The lads collectively stiffened at his words, before they all quickly raised their hands again, this time in complete surrender.

Gaz, quick on the draw, raised his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, Captain! Remember I was your matchmaker!” he said with a grin, hoping to defuse the tension. “If you want, Captain, we're willing to take a lie detector test, right lads?”

Simon and Roach, eager to keep things from escalating, immediately jumped in. “Right, Captain, no worries here!” Roach said, trying to assure the Captain.

“We’re all loyal,” Simon added with a smirk, making it sound like they were in some sort of cult, not just friends and colleagues.

Captain Price, watching their exaggerated efforts to calm him down, took a deep breath and nodded, his posture relaxing just a fraction. "Good," he said, his tone still playful but his eyes twinkling. “Now that we’ve got that straight…” The lads, all breathing a collective sigh of relief, let out a nervous chuckle. They’d been through the drill enough times to know that Price wasn’t really angry. He was just making sure no one got too comfortable. No one was about to step into his territory—especially when it came to Y/N.

Y/N returned to the living room, arms full of jars of homemade candied fruit and chips, only to be greeted by a sight that could only be described as suspiciously cooperative. John stood there with that unmistakable evil grin on his face, while the lads—Gaz, Simon, and Roach—raised their hands in mock surrender, eyes wide with exaggerated fear.

Y/N paused, her gaze shifting between them, immediately piecing together what had happened. She could practically hear the gears in John’s head turning as he subtly reminded the lads of their place. She sighs, and shook her head, knowing her Captain well enough to spot the warning signs.

"Oh, Jonathan!! Please don’t threaten the lads!!" she said, rolling her eyes as she placed the jars on the coffee table.

John turned, his smile widening, completely unfazed. "What? I didn’t do anything, love?" he said innocently, his tone as sweet as the homemade preserves she’d just brought in.

“Then why do they look like they’re about to be tossed in the back of a van and disappear into the night?” Y/N quipped, gesturing to the lads, who were still holding their hands up like they were in a hostage negotiation.

"Well, the lads didn’t invite me to their pre-planned dinner party," John said, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “A dinner party, huh? And you’ve got them in a full-on hostage situation over it?"

"Oh my goodness, you lot, put your hands down!" Y/N laughed, waving them off. "You’re not getting arrested!" she added "Now, come on, each of you grab a jar of preserves, and stop looking like you’re about to be shipped off to a remote island."

The lads, clearly relieved to be free, dropped their hands and scrambled toward the jars, eager to appease the lady boss. "And next time, invite the Captain to your little potlucks," Y/N added, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Gaz, trying to get back on her good side, grinned. "Aye, we’ll have a seat saved for you, Captain Price," he said, nudging Simon with a wink.

Simon rolled his eyes but grinned. “Yeah, next time we’ll make sure to send you a formal invite, mate."

Roach just shook his head, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good thing I’m still allowed to take some home of these," he muttered, holding up a jar of preserves.

----------

The kitchen was a flurry of activity as the lads helped Y/N clean up. John, ever the leader, led them with his usual authoritative charm. “Simon, pass me the dish soap—Roach, pass me the plates, let’s get everything squeaky clean.” His voice was light, but there was a definite edge to it, as if the lads knew better than to disobey.

Y/N, ever the watchful one, didn’t sit back and relax as John had suggested. Instead, she leaned against the counter, arms crossed, keeping a careful eye on her partner. She knew John’s charm was often accompanied by a slightly... possessive streak, and she wasn’t about to let him “accidentally” scare the lads again.

“Hey, love, relax a bit,” John said with a knowing grin, turning his head to catch her watching him from across the room. "It’s just a bit of fun."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “I’m watching you, Captain. Don’t make me come over there.”

“Ah, what? You think I’ll start threatening them again?” John chuckled, but there was that dangerous twinkle in his eyes that had the lads flinching slightly. “Maybe just a little…”

Gaz, ever the opportunist, quickly clapped a hand on Roach’s back. “Right, we’re just about done, mate. Let’s get outta here before he starts ‘watching’ us again.”

As the lads finished up, packing their jars and Tupperware into eco-bags, John stood by the door with that mischievous smile again, like a predator eyeing his prey. Y/N, always the protector, watched him carefully, ready to pounce at any sign of trouble. As the lads reached the door, John’s posture stiffened, and Y/N immediately moved into action.

“Oh no you don’t.” With a sly smile, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, holding him firmly in place before he could follow the lads. “You’re not pulling that ‘intense Captain’ act again.”

John’s grin widened as he felt her tug him backward, but he didn’t resist, playfully leaning into her hold. “What? Me? I’m just seeing them off, love.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N replied with a raise of her brow, eyeing the lads like a hawk. “You don’t think I can tell when you’re about to make them question their life choices again? You’re not going anywhere until they’re safely in the elevator.”

Roach, Simon, and Gaz were standing in the doorway, awkwardly holding their eco bags full of food, trying not to laugh at the scene. Simon cleared his throat. “Right, well, we’re off, yeah? Thanks for the grub, Y/N!”

With one last shared chuckle, the lads turned and made their way into the elevator. As they filed in, Y/N waved them off. Once they were safely on their way down, she gave John a playful tug, pulling him back into the flat.

“Right, Captain,” she said, not missing a beat. “You’re not going anywhere else tonight.”

John, the smile still playing on his lips, tried to act innocent. “But love—”

“Nope!” she interrupted, her hands on his shoulders as she pushed him back inside. “You can threaten the lads another time. Tonight, you’re staying right here.”

John chuckled, the playful glint in his eyes still there, but he allowed himself to be guided back into the flat. "Aye, aye, boss," he said, his voice dripping with affection.

“I’m serious,” Y/N said, shaking her head, though she was clearly fighting a smile. “Next time you play the jealous husband card, I’m putting you on timeout.”

John raised an eyebrow, his arms finding their way around her. “Timeout, huh?” he mused. “Guess I’ll just have to behave then.”

“Good idea,” Y/N said, finally breaking into a smile.

A/N: I think I just might turn the potluck with Y/N’s group of friends into a story! Gaz is bringing his plus ones, Simon and Roach, and I’m already brainstorming how things will unfold. But for now, I’ll leave you with this one. I hope you guys enjoyed this one, cheers! 😊

[telomirage]

I took out the trash and recycling, checked the mail, got groceries and made it back home by like 10:02

N: look at u being a morning person!

me: 😂🤪 it is possible. but the agonies

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face.  It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gold ring

words: 1.3k

warnings: brief suspicion of cheating, established relationship, soft!rafe, proposal, fluffy

“rafe!” you groan out, tired of hearing his phone constantly dinging for the past ten minutes. 

when rafe doesn't answer, you slap your laptop closed, frown on your face as you head up the stairs, muttering to yourself about him interrupting your work that he KNOWS is important.

“rafe!” you shout, entering his bedroom. you can finally hear the spray of the shower, explaining why he was letting his phone go off.

you grab it from his bedside table, yanking the charger free as you go to silence it, but upon trying to stop the dinging, you skim over the notifications.

you don't believe it at first. it must be some kind of mistake, you're sure.

you click on the name of rafes ex girlfriend, opening up the text message thread.

rafe: when can we meet?

ex: whenever works for you 🥺

ex: i miss you a lot btw

ex: this friday at 6pm? we can meet at the country club like we always used to. maybe get dinner? can't wait to see you xxx

you frown at the messages, quickly locking the phone and setting it down when you hear the shower turn off.

rafe steps out with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey princess.” he smiles. “how's the essay going?”

“fine.” your tone is cold, surprising rafe. “your phone was ringing so i silenced it.”

you walk out of the room without another word, needing to return to your homework, but when you sit back down at what has become your desk, you can't concentrate on the words on the screen, your anger bubbling over.

you want to confront rafe, but you need time to breathe otherwise the entire conversation will be unintelligible as you simply sob.

you head upstairs, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as rafe emerges from the closet, fully dressed.

“where you going babe? got study group?” he questions, glancing at the clock on the wall, realizing there's no way study group would be meeting this late.

“going home.” you mumble, making sure everything you usually leave at rafes is stuffed in your bag.

“you are home?” rafe questions, his expression turning sad when he sees you're not joking.

“no, im not rafe.” you sigh. “i want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

truth is, you've practically moved into tanneyhill since you started dating rafe, but technically you still live at your parents house, only a few doors down from rafes.

“is everything alright?” rafe asks, trying to reach out for you. “what did i do wrong?”

you can't help it anymore, his obvious disrespect for your relationship, something you put years of work into only for him to go back to his ex girlfriend.

“how about you ask your ex?” you question, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“my ex? what are you talking about?” rafe asks, again trying to hold you by your shoulders, but you take a step back before his palms can land on you.

rafe: ive asked you a million times to give that ring back. you never should have taken it in the first place. it was my grandmother's and now it belongs to y/n, not you.

“i saw your texts, rafe. when can we meet? are you fucking kidding me!?” you shout the last sentence.

“baby, wait.” he says softly, grabbing his phone. he opens up the messages, scrolling up so you can see the full context.

ex: i don't know where it is 

rafe: bullshit. give it back or ill call the cops

ex: fine. 

rafe: when can we meet?

“see, baby?” rafe places a soft hand on your shoulder. “i was just trying to get my shit back. i have no interest in my ex at all. i love you.”

“oh, rafe!” you coo out, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “im so sorry i doubted you.”

“it's okay, id also be pissed if you were texting your ex. i didn't tell you just because i wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“keep what a surprise?” you furrow your brows together.

“what do you?- ohhh.” rafe finally catches on, letting out a chuckle. “i see what you're doing.”

you giggle, rising to your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes soft lips. 

“now let's get back to work on that essay, yeah?” rafe says. “i can help you.”

“and what do you know about microbiology that could possibly help me?” you snicker.

rafe rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, but i can at least be there for moral support.”

--

you've been expecting it for months now, wondering when rafe will pop the question. you know he got the ring back, and while he's taken you on romantic dates and moonlit walks on the beach, you're not sure when he will actually drop to one knee.

“what are you thinking for your nails this week?” your girlfriend asks.

originally, you were doing all white and plain, but recently for summer you've been branching out to bright colors again.

“why, is there a certain color i should get?” you raise your eyebrow at her. 

“well i was gonna get a sparkly white, maybe we could match.” she shrugs. it's no discredit to your friend, but her acting isn't good enough to fool you, and you're sure that rafe asked her to make sure you get something appropriate and properly bridal.

you of course get simple nails that you hope will compliment a silver ring on your finger.

you look at the calendar hanging on the wall, reading through your events for the upcoming week, trying to figure out when rafe may ask the question.

you ultimately give up on trying to figure it out as you head further into the house, calling out for rafe. 

“baby? where are you?” you shout, surprised when you don't get a response. you head up to your bedroom, figuring he must be in the shower, but the bathroom door is wide open when you enter.

you almost miss it, so set on finding rafe, but the dress laying on the edge of the bed ends up catching your attention.

put this on and meet me outside.

you recognize rafes handwriting instantly. you set the paper to the side and look at the dress. its a soft light pink material, nearly white.

you are quick to undress and put on the flowy dress, admiring yourself in the mirror before touching up your hair and makeup next. rafe knows how you like to prepare for big events in your life.

your steps are slow, or at least you attempt to keep them slow, as you want to cherish this moment. your eyes light up with the glow of the backyard, string lights hanging from every tree, and on the edge of the sand, is rafe.

“oh.” you cover your mouth, feeling tears well up in your eyes. this has to be the moment. you run to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he spins you.

“baby, i haven’t even asked yet.” rafe chuckles, setting you down.

“and i’m already saying yes.” you giggle, although it’s no secret to rafe what your answer would be.

“still-” rafe places his hands on your hips, stilling you before he drops down onto one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket. he flips open the lid to reveal the most stunning ring you’ve ever seen, it’s exactly what you envisioned and somehow so much more.

“you’ve made me happier than i ever thought possible. you fixed all my broken pieces and made me whole again. there’s no one else i’d rather spend forever with.”

rafe looks up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment. “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you squeal, falling to your knees alongside rafe and pressing your lips against his. “yes, yes. a million times yes.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[parkersbliss]

you lock the 141 outside your house (I know my rights tiktok)

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x american!female reader 

synopsis: you lock them out of your (their?) house, claiming you "know your rights." based on a tiktok trend with soldiers.

warnings: none just fluff and humor :)))

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour and I think it's the funniest thing EVER thanks

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Ghost: 

You watch as your boyfriend gets out of his truck in the driveway. He grabs his bag from the passenger seat and makes his way to the front door, a smile twitching under his mask at the sight of you waiting for him. 

Just as he steps to the porch, you close the door and lock it. “I know my third amendment rights!”

Ghost stops at the door, dropping his bag. Rights? What were you talking about? “Your what?” 

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner,” You reply, reading off your phone. 

Ghost sighs. Third amendment? Of course, the one American he dates is the one that has them all memorized. You could probably recite them in your sleep. Patriotism, or whatever. Which makes zero sense. You were living with him in Manchester. If all went well and you got married, he was making sure he changed your status to British. 

“You fucking Americans.” He grabs the key from his bag, going to unlock the door only to find you locking it. “Are you serious?”

You show your phone at him through the glass, the third amendment displayed on a Google search. He stares back at you from his mask, unamused. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. 

You giggle from behind the door and give him a few more minutes before going to unlock it. You knew Simon’s limits. You only needed a few seconds of fun anyway, but by the time you unlock it, he’s gone. 

“Simon?” You call out, poking your head out the door and checking around the house. His truck was still there, so he didn’t turn back around. You don’t see any movements or even hear anything. Was he picked up by aliens? 

A thud sounds from behind you, and you yelp, shutting the door and turning around. 

Simon stands in front of you, arms crossed and his duffel bag on the floor.

“What the hell?” You said, looking him up and down. 

“I should be asking you that,” He retorts. “You should really lock your windows, love.” 

“Are you… did you climb through one?” 

“You locked me out.” 

“I went to unlock it!” 

“Third amendment rights, my arse.” He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. “We’re in England.” 

You shrug, tracing up his arm. “Thought it was funny.” 

Simon just sighs. “Americans.” 

Gaz: 

“Oh, hell no!” You exclaim as Gaz approaches the door. “I know my third amendment rights.” The lock clicks. 

“No fucking way,” Gaz said, strolling up to the glass storm door. 

“No soldiers in this home.” 

He stares at you, his hands on his hips and that signature scowl on his face. There was no way he was coming home to this bullshit right now. “Open the door.” 

“No quartering soldiers without my permission,” You replied. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. Your home? He was pretty sure his name was on the mortgage, even if you were living in it 90% of the time. “I own the fucking property! I live here. You’re the guest.” 

You shrug, grinning. “Not anymore.” 

He runs a hand down his face. Sometimes just sometimes he regrets finding your stubbornness so damn attractive.  “I’m going to crash out, actually.” 

“Crash outside? Yeah.”

“Let me in!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it. 

“No!” You shout back, holding onto it and preventing him from entering without your permission. 

Gaz leans against the glass. “Remind me why I chose to date an American?” 

You smile at him. “Because we’re funny, and we have better Chinese food.” 

He glares at you, trying to unlock the door again. He groans when there’s no avail. “Babe!” 

You say nothing, finding his annoyance quite amusing and a change of pace for once. 

And then he actually crashes out, grabbing the handle and pulling, twisting, pounding at it. He yells a string of curse words and then starts banging on the doorframe. He gives up, frowning, and leans his forehead on the glass. “Please?” 

You unlock it. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

He storms inside, throwing you over his shoulder. “You are so in for it.” 

“I like where this is going,” You giggle as he throws you on the couch. 

He raises a brow, hands coming to your waist. “Yeah?” He starts tickling you. You yelp, laughing under him and trying to push away. 

Gaz doesn’t relent and continues tickling you even after you’ve pleaded with him to stop. “You lock me out of my fucking claim it’s your right,” He mutters. “Consider this my very reasonable punishment.” 

Soap: 

“I know my rights!” You shout, watching Soap approach the door. 

He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. He had no idea what you said. The poor guy could barely hear from all the bombs going on around him, and you shout through a door? Good plan.  “What are you on about?” He asked. 

“There will be no soldiers in my home!” You close the glass door and lock it. 

He approaches the front door, staring at you through the glass. His expression is clueless, brows furrowed. “You mean our home?” He knocks on the glass. “Can I come in?” 

“Nope!” 

He frowns. “Why?” 

“Third amendment.” 

“Amendment?” He scoffs. What the hell are you talking about? Is this what he gets for dating an American? You start proclaiming your rights? What’s next, the pledge of allegiance? “Are you taking the piss? Does this look like the land of the free?” 

You giggle at him, his accent thickening with his frustration. “I’m still an American!” 

“Trust me, I know! Can I please come inside?” 

“No soldiers allowed.” You tape up a piece of paper displaying those words. 

Soap continues frowning at you and realizes he isn’t going to be let in anytime soon. It’s a good thing he knew how to easily change that. Americans and their rights. More like Americans and their feelings. He sits down on the porch steps, facing away from you, rests his chin in his hand, and sighs loudly. 

You don’t budge. 

He sighs again, kicking his boots on the porch, turning back at you with sad eyes. Still nothing. He concludes there was one last option to get you to let him in. He grabs his phone, and you watch with furrowed brows as he types something in. Suddenly, music is blasting from his phone as he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. Not just any music, but the sad hamster violin music. 

“Oh my god.” You unlock the door, opening it up to him. “You’re such a baby.” 

He practically skips inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Your baby.”

Price: 

Your husband stands on the porch, rolling his eyes at you.

“I know my rights!” You shout at him through the window. 

“Do you, now?” He asked, playing along with your prank or whatever this was. If it brought you this much amusement to lock him out, he might as well indulge in it. That was the kind of man he was. Until he started freezing of course, then he would demand you let him in. 

You nod your head. “As an American, amendment 3 of the Bill of Rights says that I don’t have to house you if I don’t want to.” 

Price hums. At least they taught you something in American schools. “Does that extend when you’re in another country?” 

“It does to me.” 

He huffs, grabbing something from his pocket and displaying it to you. “You know I have a house key, yes?”

“I’ll just lock it again.” 

He tilts his head at you. You were really trying to sell whatever rights you thought you had. “Really?” 

“I’m taking this very seriously.” 

Price strokes his beard. “I can see that.” An idea pops into his head, and he steps away from the glass and in front of the door. You didn’t want to let him in? That’s fine. You wanted to lock the door? No problem. He’s got methods of entering from being in the military, after all. “Guess I’ll just have to kick down the door.” He raises his foot, fully intent on doing it. You were going to repaint the door anyway, might as well get a new one. 

You swing open the door. “Are you crazy?” 

He strolls past you. “Did I lock you outside our home? Besides, crazy would’ve been bombing the house.” 

Your lips parted, unsure if he was joking. You assume he is, but his expression says otherwise. “Are you being serious?” 

He laughs at your face, grabbing your hand. “Only if you start proclaiming your rights again.”

You put your hands up. “What rights? Suddenly, I’m feeling like this soldier can stay as long as he likes.” 

Price presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thought so.” 

[scarletlizzard]

Inked Desires

Pairing: g!p Natasha x fem! Reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, Natasha has a dick, also covered in tattoos w/ piercings, buff out of this world, she's hot okay, cunnilingus, handjobish, unprotected sex, breeding yup, alcohol at the beginning

A/N: I'm cheating and putting these two requests together, oops! This is my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. Also, would really love some feedback on this so I know for the future to either write more like this or just tell me to stop now. Thanks so much for reading and thanks for the requests!! 🩵

Masterlist

~~~

"Here, take this!" Your friend says over the loud music, handing you another cup half filled with a mixture of liquor.

You don't question her and take the cup from her, drinking it down in only two gulps. Kate laughs and cheers as you do, doing the same with the cup she held.

By now, you were a few drinks in, and the house Kate had dragged you to was full of people. This definitely wasn't your type of scene, but as you danced among the bodies in the lowlit living room, you couldn't help but feel grateful she had.

As your hips move against your friend, she leans over to your ear. "She's staring at you again," Kate laughs, and your eyes move to the corner of the room.

There was the stranger of the night, a tall woman who stood out, whose green eyes had been watching your every move since you walked in the door. Her muscular arms were covered with art of all kinds, disappearing up into the sleeves of her shirt. She brought her red cup to her lips again, her face mostly hidden from the light.

Instead of replying, you only continue to dance, this time keeping eye contact with your stranger. The woman watches as your hips sway, your hands traveling your own body as you move to the music. It doesn't take long after that before she's finally striding across the room, standing a head taller than most of the crowd.

When she reaches you, you can finally see the rest of her gorgeous face. Above her sprightly green eyes, you noticed a piercing on her eyebrow, a few on her nose, and one on the bottom lip of the smirk she gave you. As she stands in front of you, you literally have to look up at her, and you realize she was much more toned up close.

"I'm just gonna grab another drink!" Kate raises her voice above the music for the two of you to hear.

"I'll catch up with you later!" You shout back to which she only laughs and shoots you a "Yeah, right," before walking off.

You turn your attention back to the stranger.

"Hi," she smiles.

"Hi," you reply curiously.

"I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?" She asks. Her eyes shamelessly roam the soft features of your face and the curves of your body.

"Y/N... this is my first time here. What's yours?" You ask with a blush on your cheeks. She tucks back her red hair behind one of her ears, revealing to you even more piercings.

You don't know if it's the alcohol or the feeling the stranger ignited in your chest, but you feel compelled to step forward and rest your hand on her muscular bicep. Your finger traces the tattoos that littered the skin there.

"Natasha," she says with a smile. "Wanna go upstairs?" A cock of her eyebrow with the piercing sticking out is enough to get you wet.

***

As soon as the door closes, the two of you are on each other, kissing feverishly. Her hands are under your shirt, touching your skin as she lifts you against the door. Your legs wrap around her hips, and you smile against her lips at how easily she lifted you. She was strong. You could feel her muscles under her tight shirt, squeezing you impossibly close.

But when her tongue slips past your lips, you gasp and pull away, a string of saliva pulling between your mouths.

"What's wrong? Do you need to stop?" She asks with a concerned expression. You look at her with wide eyes.

"No - no, I'm fine, it's just. Is your tongue...?" You didn't know how to ask. She chuckles and ducks her head before looking back at you. Natasha lets her tongue slide across her top lip, and it's then your suspicions are confirmed.

"Split, and yes... it will feel better," Natasha says in a cocky tone, her lips attaching to your neck as she carries you to the bed. You feel your back hit the soft mattress, and she lets go of you to remove your shirt.

"I want to see them all," you breathe out and run your finger over the skin on her arm. She smiles and pulls back, taking off her shirt to reveal she was completely covered. "They're beautiful..." You let your eyes take in the sight of the art, your hands tracing the dark lines and over the grooves of her abs. Natasha is a God.

As she continues to undress you, she kisses as much skin as she can, her lips soft and wet with every touch. When she gets to your breasts, you feel her tongue spread, taking your nipple between the two halves and sucking it.

"Oh- oh fuck," you moan out, suprised at the unfamiliar feeling and how good it felt. Natasha hums and lays you back, kissing down your stomach. When she spreads your legs she looks at you with hungry eyes, seeing how wet you already were.

"All this for me, baby?" She asks, letting a finger move up and down your wet folds. Your body shivers with anticipation. The way she looked at you, the way she looked, you were willing to let this stranger do absolutely anything to you.

"All for you.." You husk back, watching her split tongue wet her lips again.

Natasha kneels down at the edge of the bed and puts your legs over her shoulders, her hands grip your thighs tightly.

"How fucking lucky am I then?" She smirks up at you before placing soft, teasing kisses on your thighs.

You feel her mouth attach to your clit, and the heat in your stomach burns hotter. She licks up your slit, groaning as she tastes you.

"Fuck you taste so good," Natasha moans and let's her tongue lick up to your clit. She let's the two halves spread and rub against you. The new feeling makes you arch your back, your head thrown against the comforter.

"G-God Nat, that feels so good!" You moan and try to squeeze your thighs, but her grip kept your legs spread as she continued to eat you out. The sounds of her mouth against your wet pussy were the most sinful sounds you had ever heard, and the moans leaving your mouth were sounds nobody had ever elicited from you before.

She groans against you, the vibrations causing even more pleasure. "That's it baby," she says in between licks, "Want you to cum all over my face." Natashas tongue moves in two different ways, the coil in your lower stomach twisting up.

Your hands grip the comforter as she moves quicker, and the coil begins to unravel as you come undone

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," your back arches again and your legs tremble around her head as you let out a pornographic moan. Natasha hums agaisnt you as you come, her hands not flinching to hold your thighs apart.

She licks every drop, her tongue swirling around your sensative clit one more time before she lets go and stands up. "Come here," Natasha commands, and with a dizzy mind you sit up, trying to catch your breath. She bends down to take your jaw, kissing you rough and sloppily. You forces you to taste yourself, and her tongue pushes in your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue.

You can smell your own arousal on her face, feeling it wet your nose and lips. You blush, almost embarrassed with how wet this stranger made you.

"Now lets see how well you can ride my cock," Natasha chuckles and pulls back to remove her remaining clothes. Your eyes are settled on her breasts, unable to remove them from the piercings on her nipples. When you can pull yourself away from the sight of the silver metal against pink, you look down to see her remove her underwear. She was hard, painfully hard just from eating you out.

She tosses the boxers in the corner where other random clothes lay, and you gave her a curious look. "It's my room, don't worry. Didn't even know you were in my house, did you, love?" Natasha strides back to the bed and sits with her back against the headboard, pulling you closer to her.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry... my friend kind of dragged me out tonight," you say with red cheeks, and she kisses you desperately.

"Thank God she did," Nat mumbles against your lips. She lets out a groan as your hand reaches between the two of you to lightly grip her cock, and you could feel how she was already throbbing for you. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly as the kiss turns sloppy, her tongue sliding yours between hers. Natasha revels in the feeling of her in your soft hand, your delicate fingers moving along the veins of erection.

"Shit - that feels so good," she moans into the kiss as your hand movements speed up. Your thumb swipes across the tip, precum dripping out already. You smile at the low moan that leaves her lips and continue to jerk her as you kiss. "I need you, please. Fuck I need to be inside you," she begs, and the sound of her begging was something you wanted to hear again. You take her lower lip between your teeth, sucking on the piercing before letting go with a 'pop'.

"I wanna ride you so bad, Nat.. I'm so wet for you," you whisper and let your kisses trail down to her sharp jaw. You feel her cock twitch in your hand as you speak and she grabs your wrist to stop your hand movements, panting as she does.

Natasha turns you around quickly, groaning at the sight of your ass as you straddle her lap and let her hands guide you onto her thick cock. You slide down slowly, letting out a moan when you feel her filling you up.

"Just relax baby, you're so fucking tight," she mumbles as she watches herself slowly disappear inside of you. She let's out a low moan as she feels your hot cunt swallow her, the back of head hitting the headboard when she feels your walls squeezing her. The feeling alone was enough for her mind to sever ties with reality, the only thought was you.

The sensation has that coil tightening inside of you again. You rest your hands on her toned thighs for support, relishing in the way her muscles flexed underneath your fingertips.

Natashas' hands continue to guide you, and after you had adjusted to her large size, you begin to grind yourself down on her lap.

"Just like that baby, fuck... feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. You were just made to take me," she groans, her words only driving you to move your hips faster.

Her large hands move to your sides and up your body, groping your skin as she starts to move her hips up to meet yours. The two of you find a rythem together, and soon you find yourself willingly bouncing on her cock. Her hands moved to gather your hair, wrapping it into a fist in her right hand. She tugs on it and pulls your head back, a loud moan leaves your lips at the feeling.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" She smirks, tugging your hair again.

"Yes - god, yes, Nat!" You whine as her lips find your neck. She bites down hard on your pulse point, surely leaving a mark, and leaves hot open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

"I know you do, you little slut. Fucking dripping on my cock. You feel how easy I slide in and out of you?" She says and with her left hand she grabs your jaw. "Answer me."

"I'm so wet, you make me so wet," you whine again, feeling her fingers move between your teeth. You suck hard as you look in her eyes, your tongue swirling around spit dripping down your chin. When you bite down, it surprises her, but she only chuckles darkly.

In a second, Natasha had let go of your hair and pushed you down face first onto the mattress. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, but soon after, she's lifting your hips and sliding into you again. Both of you moan at the feeling of how deep she goes.

"Christ, it doesn't matter how long I fuck you. You're just - so - fucking tight," she grunts in between words, her cock drilling you into oblivion. With every thrust you can hear the bedframe hitting the wall, and you can't help the pitiful noises that leave your mouth.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum," You rasp out. A sharp slap on your ass makes you whimper as you feel it begin to sting.

"No, shit, hold it in," Natasha warns. You feel the pressure of her body move on top of you. The piercings on her breasts rub against your back with each powerful thrust, and her arm moves underneath your neck to hold you tightly.

Natasha grunts in your ear as she pounds into you, letting out a moan when she feels your slick cunt tighten around her length. "I'm almost there, baby. Are you gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock?"

You nod the best you can in her tight grip, only able to get out a "Yes," in between gasps.

"You feel so good, Y/N. You want me to cum inside you? Fuck- I wanna fill up your tight little pussy so bad..." She groans against you and her words send you over the edge.

"Oh god, Nat! Please fill me up, please," you beg her, and just the thought of it is enough to let go. Your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core.

Natasha moans loudly as she feels you coating her cock with your cum, and she can no longer hold back. "Fuck- Y/N!" She groans and you whine as you feel her hot load spurting inside of you, her cock twitching as she slows her movements. "Take every.. last.. drop.." She pants as she thrusts a few more times.

The two of you stay like that for a while, her cock inside you as she stills above you. Your head rests against her arm as you attempt to catch your breath. When she removes herself slowly, and you wince at the soreness and empty feeling. Natasha lays next to you and you turn on your side to face her.

"Hi," she chuckles at the exhausted features on your face.

"You just fucked the life out of me and you're going to say... 'hi' ?" You laugh, suprised to see a blush on the strong womans cheeks as she laughs along with you. Your hand reaches out, resting on her stomach and tracing the lines of her tattoos again.

After the two of you clean yourselves up, you begin to dress yourself, feeling her eyes on you as you pull your shirt over your head.

"You don't have to go, you know. I'm not like that," she says gently, and you look up to see her pulling on a pair of jeans. You smile at her kind demeanor and walk over to her.

"I have to take my friend home," you say and lean up on your toes to kiss her cheek. She has to bend down for you to reach her lips, but she doesn't complain.

"Well, maybe I can take you out sometime," Natasha smirks and rests her hands on your waist. You nod as you look up to her.

"I would love that.." You reply honestly, wanting nothing more than to get to know her and count the endless tattoos that cover her body.

[simjaexy]

𝙃𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨 | 𝙋.𝙎.

pairing ⇀ brothers best friend! park sunghoon x sister! reader

synposis ⇀ you knew sunghoon ever since you were little with him being your big brothers best friend. what jay didn’t know though, was that you always had a secret crush on sunghoon. despite your feelings, you believe sunghoon doesn’t like you back and sees you as nothing more than his friends annoying little sister. right?

genre ⇀ smut, angst

warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, the sexual scene doesn’t come for a while, lower case intended, cursing, arguments, crying, partying, drinking, insecurities, sunghoon is toxic, reader thinks about sunghoon a lot, mean dom! sunghoon x sub! reader, eating out, overstimulation (f), blowjob, semi public sex, jealousy, possessiveness, dirty talk, manhandling, minor choking, lying, fingering, name calling (slut and etc.), no protection (wrap up ur hotdog), not cumming inside, lmk if i missed any!

w.c ⇀ 8.0k+

a/n ⇀ was trying to do a drabble but instead made it into a somewhat whole fic cause i got carried away but oh well. this took me a while too make cause i wanted to make it good but i think it ended well ifykyk ;). also, if you would like to be added to my permanent taglist please click here and leave a comment! reblog, comment, like, etc.! not proofread!

masterlist here

you remember the first time you met sunghoon at a neighborhood park. you were five while sunghoon was six. the sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the playground. jay, your big brother, had excitedly dragged you along to meet his new buddy.

you were curious but also a bit nervous. as you and jay approached the swings, you saw a boy standing there with an air of cool detachment. his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and his eyes seemed to be lost in thought.

"hey, sunghoon! this is my little sister, y/n," jay introduced her with a wide grin, his enthusiasm infectious.

sunghoon barely glanced at you, muttering a quick "hi" before turning his attention back to the ground. his voice was soft but carried a certain indifference that made you feel small.

you felt a pang of disappointment but brushed it off, determined to get to know him better. after all, jay had spoken highly of him, and you trusted your big brothers judgment.

as the years went by, you found yourself attending the same school, even participating in the same extracurricular activities. your crush on Sunghoon grew stronger with each passing year.

you noticed the little things about him—the way his eyes softened when he was lost in thought, the rare smiles he reserved for jay and his other friends, and the quiet kindness he showed when he thought no one was looking. he was always polite to you, but there was a distance, a wall that you couldn't seem to breach.

high school brought more opportunities for interaction, but also more complications. sunghoon became more popular, his cool demeanor attracting a lot of attention. you, on the other hand, remained in the background, content with your small circle of friends and your studies. despite your different social circles, their paths crossed often, thanks to jay.

now that it’s been years of knowing sunghoon, you know how he acts, how he talks, how he reacts, everything about him that other girls wish they knew. but one thing that you’ll never know is his type. you seem to be nothing but jays little sister to him, right?

it was a typical friday evening, and your house was buzzing with the usual energy that came with having your brother, jay, and his other best friend, sim jaeyun, over. they were playing video games in your living room while you silently read a book in the kitchen.

you heard jake screeching about something while jay was shouting nonsense. you weren’t gonna lie and say it didn’t give you fat headache. as you continued reading you suddenly heard a knock at the door. annoyed, you went to go answer it.

you walked past jay and jake and headed towards the door boredly.

as you opened the door, you were met with the sight of park sunghoon, jay's friend, aka your crush. he stood there, looking as cold and distant as ever, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

"hey," you greeted him, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding.

sunghoon barely acknowledged you with a nod before stepping inside without a word.

he didn't even spare you a glance as he made his way to the living room where jay and jake were deeply engrossed in their video game. you closed the door behind him, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.

you followed him into the living room, where the boys were too focused on their game to notice your presence. sunghoon joined them, his expression remaining stoic as he watched the screen. you took a seat on the couch, pretending to be absorbed in the book you had picked up earlier. but your eyes kept drifting back to sunghoon, watching his every move.

you decided to try to catch a conversation, “hey, sunghoon, do you want something to drink?" you offered, hoping to engage him in some small talk.

he barely looked up from where he was watching jay and jake, "no, thanks," he replied curtly, his attention still focused on your brother.

you sighed inwardly, feeling a pang of disappointment. it was always like this. no matter what you did, sunghoon never seemed to notice you. it was as if you were invisible to him, just another part of the background.

the boys continued their game, their laughter and banter filling the room. sunghoon remained quiet, only occasionally offering a terse comment or a slight sigh. you wished you could be a part of their world, to share in their camaraderie, but you felt like an outsider looking in.

despite your best efforts to focus on your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at sunghoon. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker in your direction, and you would quickly look away, hoping he hadn't noticed. but deep down, you hoped he had.

jake groaned when he finally lost to jay, letting out a frustrated growl, “my finger pressed the wrong button!”

jay cackled and clapped his hands together. sunghoon just stared at them. you noticed how much jay and jake talk compare to sunghoon. but to them, he was like a missing puzzle piece to their friendship.

jay got up from the couch and stretched, “i’m gonna make something to eat. anyone want pizza rolls?” he questioned. jake raised his hand like a kid while sunghoon shook his head. you stared up at jay and nodded.

he went to the kitchen while jake wrapped an arm around sunghoon shoulder, “did you talk to that girl yet?”

you heart dropped hearing that. what was jake talking about? you peeked from your book and watched sunghoons expression. it still remained serious, but you could see a bit of an annoyance.

“i already told you, i blocked her number.” he stated. jake gasped and unwrapped his arm around sunghoon, shoving him.

“what? dude she was your only chance to getting some!” jake said. he threw his hands on his head as if sunghoon broke a promise that was supposed to be kept forever. sunghoon shrugged his shoulders,

“i don’t want a girl that gets passed around.” he firmly said. jake stopped complaining and put a finger under his chin. you on the other hand, was wondering what girl it could be.

jay eventually came back with a plate full of pizza rolls and set them in the table. jake hurriedly grabbed one and took a bite only to whine how hot it was. you giggled and took a bite yourself.

“ready to do another round?” jay spoke. jake nodded and grabbed the controller, loading it to jay. they both sat down again and started a new round.

you noticed sunghoon was staring off in a distance, “everything okay?” you asked. sunghoon flicked his gaze towards you before simply nodding and standing up.

“i’m gonna head to the restroom.” he spoke towards jay. jay nodded his head. sunghoon walked towards the hall that led to the bathroom, shutting the door with a click. you let a little sigh before grabbing your book again and reading. it was worth a shot.

eventually, the boys finished their game, and jay and jake started packing up their things. sunghoon stood up, his expression still unreadable.

he glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. but before you could decipher it, he turned away and headed for the door.

"see you around," he said, his voice cold and detached.

you nodded, unable to find your voice. as he walked out the door, you felt a pang of longing. jay stood next to you eating a pizza roll, “why are you staring at sunghoon like that?”

you snapped out of your daze and glared at him, “i wasn’t staring at him!” you snapped. you turned your heel heading back to your room.

jay watched you go to your room, “were too!” the only thing he heard from you was a loud groan with the door slamming shut.

the morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow over your room. you groaned softly, reaching out to silence the alarm clock blaring on your nightstand. it was another school day, and you knew you had to get up. with a sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stretched.

"hey, sleepyhead! get up, or we're gonna be late!" jay called from the hallway.

jay was always the early riser, and he made sure you were up and ready on time. you quickly got dressed and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix your hair. jay was already in the kitchen, making breakfast.

"morning," you greeted him, grabbing a piece of toast.

"morning," he replied with a grin, "ready for another day at school?"

you rolled your eyes playfully, “as ready as I'll ever be."

jay chuckled and ruffled your hair. "come on, let's get going."

the two of you drove to school together, chatting about random stuff. as you guys got out of the car, you approached the school. you noticed the usual crowd of girls gathered around sunghoon and jake, who walked through the hallway with their signature known demeanor.

as you reached your locker, jay went off to join his friends, leaving you alone. you stood at your locker, watching the scene unfold from a distance. it was hard not to notice sunghoon, especially when jay and jake were so openly flirtatious with the girls.

jay's charming smile and jake's playful banter had the girls swooning, but sunghoon remained detached, barely acknowledging their presence. as jay and jake still talked with the girls, sunghoon began to walk away from the crowd.

you decided to follow him, curiosity getting the better of you. you kept a safe distance, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. sunghoon's long strides took him to a quieter part of the school, away from the hustle and bustle of the main hallways.

just as you thought you were being discreet, sunghoon suddenly stopped and turned around. your heart skipped a beat as his piercing gaze locked onto yours. before you could react, he closed the distance between you, trapping you against the wall with his arms on either side of your head.

"why are you following me?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you couldn't find the words to answer. sunghoon's proximity was overwhelming, and his intense gaze made it hard to think straight. he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"do you enjoy watching me?" he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips.

you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "i-i was just... curious," you stammered.

sunghoon chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours, "curious, huh? be careful, curiosity can be dangerous."

with that, he pushed away from the wall and walked off, leaving you flustered and breathless. You watched him go, your heart still racing from the encounter. what the fuck just happened?

after that encounter you went straight to your classroom, not even bothering to say hi to your friends. you sat at your desk and let out a deep sigh.

did sunghoon meant to do that? you felt your heart beating out of your ears. maybe you were just hallucinating it. the bell finally rang when students started coming in. you on the other hand, decided to just lay your head down for the whole lecture.

lunch came by pretty fast and before you knew it you were on your way to your friend group table. you took a seat while your friends were gossiping about someone.

"did you see sunghoon talking to that girl in the hall earlier?" one of them asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

your friends exchanged glances, sensing your discomfort but pressing on, "they seemed pretty close, like they were having a deep conversation or something. do you know anything about it?"

shakes of heads were viewed until they all looked at you.

you shook your head, forcing a smile, "no, i don't know anything about it."

you felt curious on who the girl could’ve been. knowing sunghoon since forever you knew he’s not the type to start a conversation with a girl first. was it the girl jake was talking about?

you huffed and took a bite out of your food. whatever it was, it wasn’t your problem. but you still had that pang of discomfort in your chest.

the final bell of the day echoed through the halls, signaling the end of another school day. you gathered your books and headed towards the exit, where your friends were already waiting. as you approached, jay pulled up in his car, offering you a ride home as usual.

"hey, you need a ride home?" jay called out. you hesitated for a moment before shaking your head.

“no thanks. i think i'll walk with my friends today." you chimed.

jay raised an eyebrow but didn't press further, "alright, see you later then."

as you walked with your friends, the conversation flowed easily, but your mind kept drifting back to Sunghoon. You hadn't seen him much today, and the lingering thoughts from the previous conversation gossip still gnawed at you. your friends noticed your distraction but didn't comment, knowing you well enough to give you space.

when you finally reached your house, you waved goodbye to your friends and walked up the driveway. the sound of laughter from the backyard caught your attention. curiosity piqued, you made your way around the side of the house.

there, by the pool, were jay, jake, and sunghoon, all three in bathing suits, clearly ready for a swim.

jake noticed you first and waved, "hey, you made it! we decided to take a dip. wanna join?"

your eyes flickered to sunghoon, who was lounging on a chair, looking effortlessly cool and completely at ease. it’s almost as if this morning wasn’t even real. the sight of him in his swim trunks made your heart race, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"uh, i left my swimsuit at my friends house," you stammered, trying to keep your composure.

sunghoon glanced up, his expression unreadable, "you can always borrow one," he said nonchalantly, as if your presence didn't faze him at all.

you felt a mix of shyness and frustration. it was clear that Sunghoon didn't share the same nervousness you felt around him, "maybe next time," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

your brother, ever the peacemaker, jumped in, "no worries. we can just hang out. come sit with us."

reluctantly, you walked over and took a seat on the edge of a lounge chair, trying to act casual. the conversation flowed around you, but your focus kept drifting back to sunghoon.

every time he laughed or spoke, you felt a pang of longing, wishing he would notice you the way you noticed him.

the water sparkled invitingly, and the sound of laughter filled the air as sunghoon, jay, and jake splashed around. you noticed sunghoon moved through the water with such grace, each stroke powerful and smooth.

jay and jake were goofing off, trying to dunk each other, but sunghoon was focused, swimming laps effortlessly. the way his muscles flexed and glistened under the sun made your heart race. you tried to look away, but it was no use. your gaze kept returning to him.

after what felt like an eternity, sunghoon finally climbed out of the pool, water cascading down his toned body. he ran a hand through his wet hair, sending droplets flying. you felt your cheeks heat up and quickly looked down, hoping he didn't notice your flustered state.

but when you dared to glance up, you caught his eye and he gave you a small, knowing smirk. your blush deepened, and you couldn't help but look down, your heart pounding in your chest.

as the afternoon wore on, you found yourself relaxing a bit, the initial awkwardness fading. jay and jake’s easy banter was infectious, and you couldn't help but join in. despite sunghoon's apparent indifference, you cherished these moments.

when the sun began to set, jay suggested ordering pizza, and the four of you moved inside. the atmosphere was warm and inviting, and for a while, you forgot about your worries, simply enjoying the company of jay and his friends.

jay was on the phone, ordering pizza for everyone. the anticipation of the delicious food was palpable, but your mind was elsewhere. sitting so close to sunghoon made your heart race, and you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.

jake, noticing your unease, leaned in with a friendly smile, "hey, are you okay? you seem a bit tense," he asked, his voice gentle.

you glanced at him, trying to calm your racing heart, "yeah, i'm fine. just a bit... hungry," you lied, hoping he wouldn't see through it.

sunghoon, who had been quiet, shifted slightly closer to you. his presence was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

he glanced at jake, his eyes narrowing slightly, "she’s fine, jake. Just a little tired, right?" sunghoon's voice was smooth but there was an edge to it.

jake raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension, "sure, man. but you know, talking can help distract from hunger and tiredness," he said, turning his attention back to you, "so, what have you been up to lately? feels like i don’t really see you often." he joked.

you appreciated Jake's attempt to make you feel comfortable, but sunghoon's proximity was making it hard to focus, "oh, just the usual stuff. school, work, you know how it is," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

sunghoon's arm brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. he leaned in slightly, his voice low. "you know, you don't have to answer him if you don't want to. we're just waiting for the pizza, after all."

your heart skipped a beat at his words. there was something possessive in his tone that both thrilled and confused you. you glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but his face was a mask of calm.

jake, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood, "well, i think it's great that we're all hanging out together. it's been a while since we had a chill night like this," he said, giving you a reassuring smile.

jay finally hung up the phone and rejoined the group. "pizza's on its way! should be here in about thirty minutes," he announced, plopping down on the other side of jake.

the conversation flowed more easily with jay back, but you couldn't shake the feeling of sunghoon's eyes on you. every time you laughed at one of jake's jokes or responded to his questions, you felt sunghoon's gaze intensify.

finally, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the pizza. jay and jake jumped up to get it, leaving you alone with sunghoon for a moment.

he took the opportunity to lean in closer, his breath warm against your ear, "you know, i wouldn’t talk to jake so much, he always does that when he wants to get into girls underwear’s." he murmured, his voice low and possessive.

your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to face him, your eyes wide, "sunghoon, we're not... i mean, we're just friends," you stammered, unsure of what to say.

he smirked, his eyes darkening, "maybe, but that doesn't mean he won’t do anything to you. just remember that," he said, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment before he pulled away.

jay and jake returned with the pizza, breaking the tension. as you all dug in, the atmosphere lightened, but you couldn't shake the feeling of sunghoon's emotions. it was confusing and thrilling all at once.

jake was already scrolling through the movie options, "How about this one?" he suggested, landing on a popular action film.

“sounds good," everyone agreed. they settled in, grabbing slices of pizza and filling their cups. the room was filled with the sounds of chewing and occasional laughter as they watched the movie.

as the movie progressed, you felt a gentle touch on your hand. you glanced to your side and saw sunghoon's hand lightly brushing against yours. your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, trying to focus on the movie. but the warmth of his touch lingered, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

when the movie finally finished and every slice was gone, jake and sunghoon decided it was time to head home. jake and sunghoon were getting ready to leave.

jay was in the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of their pizza night, while you stood by the door, ready to bid them farewell. jake was the first to step forward. his smile was warm and genuine as he reached out for a hug.

"thanks for having us over. It was a great night," he said, wrapping his arms around you in a friendly embrace. you hugged him back, feeling the comfort of his presence.

as you pulled away, you noticed sunghoon standing a few steps behind jake, his expression unreadable. his eyes were fixed on the floor, and he made no move to step forward. there was an air of detachment about him that seemed out of place.

“goodnight, sunghoon," you said, hoping to catch his eye. but he didn't look up. he simply nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and turned to walk out the door without another word. the door closed behind him, leaving you standing there, confused and a little hurt.

jake noticed your puzzled expression and gave you a small, reassuring smile, "don't worry about him. he's probably just tired," he said softly, patting your shoulder before following sunghoon out the door.

you watched them walk down the driveway, jake's easygoing stride contrasting sharply with sunghoon's tense posture.

the night air was cool, and you shivered slightly, not entirely from the cold. you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. sunghoon's silence and his refusal to say goodbye gnawed at you, leaving a lingering sense of unease.

jay came up behind you, drying his hands on a dish towel, "everything okay?" he asked, noticing your troubled expression.

“i’m not sure," you replied, still staring at the spot where sunghoon had been standing, "sunghoon didn't say goodbye. he seemed... different."

jay frowned, looking thoughtful, “maybe he's just got something on his mind. you know how he can be sometimes."

“yeah, maybe," you said, though you weren't entirely convinced. theimage of Sunghoon's emotionless face stayed with you as you closed the door and locked it for the night.

as you headed to bed, you couldn't help but wonder why sunghoon decided to act like he cared about you and then act like he didn’t care anymore. you hummed and slowly closed your eyes before falling asleep.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your room. you stretched and yawned, feeling the remnants of sleep leave your body. it was time to start your usual morning routine.

you got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. after a quick shower, you brushed your teeth and combed your hair, feeling more awake with each passing minute.

dressed and ready for the day, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. as you poured yourself a bowl of cereal, you heard footsteps approaching. turning around, you saw jay entering the kitchen, looking as relaxed as ever.

“morning jay," you greeted him with a smile.

“morning," he replied, grabbing an apple from the counter, "hey, just so you know, i'm gonna be hanging out with jake today. he was complaining about how he needs new shoes.”

you nodded, taking a bite of your cereal, "cool, sounds fun. what about sunghoon? isn't he coming with you guys?"

jay shook his head, a puzzled look crossing his face. "no, he said he didn't want to go. weird, right? he always hangs out with us."

you frowned, feeling a twinge of confusion. sunghoon was usually the first to join in on any plans with the group. "that’s strange. did he say why?"

jay shrugged, taking a bite of his apple, "nope, he just seemed off on call. maybe he's got something else going on."

you couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with sunghoon. determined to get to the bottom of it, you decided to check in on him later. for now, you finished your breakfast and went about your day, the mystery of sunghoon's behavior lingering in the back of your mind.

after breakfast, you tidied up the kitchen and headed out for a morning jog. the crisp air and the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the pavement helped clear your mind.

returning home, you took a quick shower and changed into comfortable clothes. you decided to text sunghoon, hoping to get some answers.

Y/n: Hey Sunghoon. Everything okay? Jay mentioned you weren't joining them today.

minutes passed without a response, and you grew more anxious. you tried to distract yourself by diving into a book, but your thoughts kept drifting back to sunghoon. finally, your phone buzzed with a message. it was Sunghoon.

Sunghoon: I’m fine.

his reply was short, almost dismissive. you knew sunghoon well enough to sense that something was off. you couldn’t decide to think anything better than pay him a visit.

you grabbed your keys and headed to sunghoon's place. the walk wasn’t that far with him living in the same neighborhood. as you finally got to his house you felt a sudden nervousness.

as you approached his door, you hesitated for a moment before knocking. a couple seconds the door opened, sunghoon opened the door, his expression one of confusion and mild annoyance.

"what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone colder than you expected.

“i was worried about you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "you didn't hang out with jay and jake, and you seemed distant when you texted me. what's going on?"

sunghoon's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, “why do you care? it's none of your business."

you felt a pang of hurt at his words, “of course, it's my business! we're friends, and friends look out for each other. you've been acting strange lately, and i’m worried."

“well, maybe you should mind your own business," sunghoon snapped, his voice growing harsher. "i don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do."

your confusion turned to frustration, “why are you being like this? i'm just trying to help you!"

sunghoon's expression didn't soften, "i don't need your help. just leave me alone."

anger flared up inside you, and you couldn't hold back any longer, "fine! if you want to be a jerk, then be a jerk! but don't expect me to keep worrying about you if you're going to treat me like this."

sunghoon's eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place, but he didn't say anything more. he simply turned and walked back into his house, leaving the door open just long enough for you to see that he truly didn't care.

feeling a mix of anger and sadness, you turned and walked away from sunghoon's house. when you finally arrived back home, you saw jay standing outside, waiting for you. he looked concerned as he approached.

"are you okay? where were you? you could at least text me where you’re going." jay asked, his voice gentle.

you didn't even look at him as you brushed past, "i'm fine," you muttered, not wanting to talk about what had just happened.

jay reached out to stop you, but you pulled away, needing some space to process everything. you went inside, leaving jay standing there, knowing he was worried but unable to face another confrontation.

the sun slowly settled down, and you were curled up on the couch, flipping through channels but not really paying attention to anything. your mind kept drifting back to the tense encounter with sunghoon earlier.

just then, jay burst into the living room, excitement radiating off him, "there's this party tonight. you should come with me. you could meet my girlfriend finally.

you looked up, not really feeling the party vibe. "i don't know, jay. i’m not really in the mood for a party tonight. maybe i can meet her after?

he gave you a knowing look, "come on, it'll be fun! plus, i heard sunghoon's going to be there. maybe we can ask him why he was acting weird."

you heart skipped a beat at the mention of sunghoon. despite the argument, you couldn't deny the feelings you had for him more than your anger.

maybe this party could be a chance to make things right, "sunghoon's going to be there?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

jay nodded, a smile playing on his lips, "yep. so, what do you say? are you in?"

you hesitated for a moment before nodding, "alright, i'll go. but I need to get ready."

jay grinned, "great! we've got a couple of hours, so take your time."

you rushed to your room, heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. you wanted to look your best, hoping to catch Sunghoon's eye and maybe even talk things out.

you rummaged through your closet, finally settling on your favorite outfit—a sleek dress that made you feel confident and beautiful.

you applied your makeup, you couldn't help but think about what you would say to Sunghoon. you wanted to apologize for the argument and explain how much you cared about him. with a final touch of lipstick, you looked in the mirror, feeling ready to face the night.

jay was waiting for you downstairs, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw you, "wow, never seen you this ready.”

you smiled, feeling a bit more confident, “let's go."

the drive to the party was filled with jay's chatter about who would be there and what to expect. you appreciated the distraction, but your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon. when you arrived, the party was already in full swing, with music blasting and people mingling everywhere.

jay led you inside, and you scanned the room, searching for sunghoon. you spotted him near the back, talking to a group of friends. he was leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand, looking a bit tipsy but still maintaining his usual cool demeanor.

Your heart pounded as you made your way over, trying to muster the courage to approach him.

“sunghoon, can we talk?” you asked softly, stepping closer.

he looked up, his expression unreadable, “what is it?” he replied, his voice a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

you bit your lip, “is it okay if we go to a more private space?” you asked. sunghoon looked over at his friends and said something to them. he then averted his stare to you.

he walked past you without saying a word. you followed him past the loud people and music before going upstairs to a bedroom. he went in first and then with you shutting the door. you faced him and decided to just do it.

“i’m really sorry about earlier,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “i didn’t mean to upset you. i was just frustrated, and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”

sunghoon sighed, rubbing his temples, “yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a great conversation.”

you nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “i know, and I feel terrible about it. I just want us to be okay.”

he stared at you for a moment, and then a small smile tugged at his lips, “you always talk too much when you’re nervous,” he said, stepping closer. before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, silencing your apologies.

the kiss was gentle but firm, and you could taste the alcohol on his lips. it was a mix of emotions – his frustration, your regret, and a shared longing to make things right.

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, “i’m not mad anymore,” he whispered, “but i do know what can help you to be forgiven.”

you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, “i’ll do anything to make you forgive me,” you said.

instead of saying something, he smashed his lips against yours. you wrapped your arms around his neck. you couldn’t believe you were finally kissing him.

you let out a tiny moan when he gripped your waist harder. he signaled you to jump making you do so. he lead you both to the bed while still having his lips latched onto yours. he set you softly on the bed and kissed your neck softly.

you gripped his locks softly and sighed feeling him go along your neck to your chest. you helped him take off your dress by unzipping on the back. when the dress finally fell slack you felt shyness course through your body.

you tried to cover yourself, but sunghoon gripped both of your wrists above your head. “sunghoon wait-“

he ignored you and rubbed his thigh against your core. you arched your back and let out a loud moan. a smirk tugged on his lips, “sensitive are we?” he teased.

you hid your face in your arm, feeling embarrassed. he traced his fingers alongside your bra before grabbing the strap and sliding it down along your shoulders. you gasped feeling his cold hands fondling your breast.

you whimpered when he flicked it and gripped it harshly, “sunghoon please.” you breathed out. sunghoon clicked his tongue.

“be patient slut.” he snapped. you but back your words and hummed. he lowered his head to your breast, and finally you felt his hot tongue on them. he sucked them hungrily like he’s been waiting to do this for a long time. loud moans and kissing noises were heard.

you squirmed and cried out when he let go of them with a ‘pop’. he took off his jacket and shirt revealing his toned body. you pouted when you couldn’t feel his abs since his hands were still holding you down.

he grinned when he saw you trying to release from his grip, “i told you to be patient didn’t i?” he rasped. you nodded your head, wanting to be good. he chuckled darkly.

you suddenly felt a hand on your core and that’s when sunghoon started rubbing alongside your folds. you let out a squeal when he dipped his hand in your underwear and rubbed your clit.

“sunghoon ahh~” you cried out. he prodded around your hole before slowly dipping a finger in. you felt a shooting pain and tried closing your legs.

“if you can’t take a finger, how can you take my dick?” he asked so casual. you felt your cheeks go red. you slowly tried relaxing, feeling the stretch burn.

slowly, you felt him go in and out causing you to let out a quiet moan. when sunghoon noticed you were feeling good, he added another finger in making you squirm.

soon enough, three fingers were already inside you moving back and forth. your loud moans sounding desperate. you felt your orgasm coming and tried signaling sunghoon. he didn’t stop when you felt your legs shake as your orgasm went right through you.

you let out a desperate breath when he let his fingers slip out. you watched him lick his fingers clean with your cum. you blinked twice and squeezed your legs together. he let go of your wrists and began to unbuckle his belt and slid his pants and boxers down.

you let out a gasp seeing how big he was. there was no way he could fit. he hissed when he touched his dick and let out long strokes. you gulped seeing his pre cum seep out. letting your mind take over you for up and crawled towards him.

he eyes you confused before he felt your smaller hand grip his dick. he let out a groan and threw his head back. you stroked it slowly up and down before licking his pre cum. you hummed at his salty taste.

you didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, just seeing him so open to you had you thinking strange. you opened your mouth and engulfed his dick. sunghoon jerked forward a bit at the sudden warmth and gripped your hair.

“agh fuck, just like that slut.” he groaned. you moaned around his dick and sucked it harshly. his mains turning you on more. as you were about to finger yourself, sunghoon gripped your hair.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he growled. you whined, but didn’t move a muscle. you felt him tensing up indicating he was gonna cum soon and stroked his balls. a few seconds later you felt hot sperm in your mouth.

he let out a drawn moan and slowly let go of you. you took his dick out your mouth and swallowed his cum. he watched you intensely and wiped his cum off your lips. he lifted his fingers towards your mouth. you sucked on them until there was no more left.

he didn’t give you time to speak before you felt yourself being pushed back with your pussy in view for him. you let out a scream when you felt his dick enter you without warning.

he started thrusting into your pussy without giving you time to adjust. your eyes rolled back feeling him deep inside you, “s-sunghoon! oh fuck!” you screamed out. sunghoon just hummed and kissed your cheek.

you suddenly felt another orgasm coming already and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i-i think i’m gonna c-cum.” you stuttered. sunghoon cursed and wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing it as a warning.

“you cum, i’ll overstimulate you.” he sternly said. you let whined moan. how can you not cum when he’s fucking you so deep? his pace didn’t falter one bit. you felt like it was going to be eternity until he cums.

sunghoon groaned feeling you squeezed around him trying to hold your orgasm. you felt his dick pulsating and before you could let out another word, sunghoon beat you to it.

“cum for me bitch.” he whispered in your ear. you felt your orgasm hit you hard. you mouth fell slack when he took out his dick and stroked it on your stomach until his cum spurred out.

you both let out heavy breathing until sunghoon put on his shirt and jacket. he went to the bathroom and wiped you off before putting on his boxer and pants. he helped you out with your clothing too until you were dressed.

as you both stood there in silence, you suddenly heard someone knocking causing you to jump, “everything good here?” someone asked, it was jake. your eyes widened and you looked over at sunghoon who expression was unreadable.

before you could say something sunghoon went towards the door opening it. jake backed up and looked surprised.

“oh shit, my bad sunghoon. i didn’t know you were in here-“ jake sentence cut off when he saw you behind him, “oh? hey y/n?”

you awkwardly waved. sunghoon looked back at you and turned towards jake. he walked past jake not giving another word out, leaving you there alone and shocked. what the hell?

jake stared at you confused, but you didn’t say anything and went out the room too. you made your way downstairs, but didn’t see sunghoon in sight. as you looked around you saw jay holding hands with a girl walking towards you, “hey y/n! this is-“ “where’s sunghoon?”

jay’s eyebrows furrowed, “oh, uh, i think i saw him leave-“ you didn’t let him finish his sentence and rushed out of the house. you looked around, but didn’t see sunghoon anywhere.

you felt disappointment on your chest and looked to the ground. was he just using you? you took out your phone and looked for sunghoon contact, shooting him a text about his disappearance.

you went back inside the house and told jay you wanted to go home. jay bid his goodbye to his girlfriend and escorted you out to his car.

the whole car ride was silent. none of you guys speaking a word. even when you came back home you left jay in the car and went inside, wanting to sleep.

as you lay in your bed, you sighed and finally let your tears roam free.

you woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. the events of the previous night were still fresh in your mind, and you felt a pang of anxiety as you recalled what happened yesterday sunghoon. you sighed and stretched, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

as you made your way to the kitchen, you found jay sitting at the table, sipping on a cup of coffee. he looked up and gave you a small smile, “morning," he greeted, his tone gentle.

“morning," you replied, trying to muster a smile in return.

jay studied you for a moment before speaking again, “jake told me you and sunghoon seemed upset about something. is everything okay between you guys?"

you felt a lump form in your throat and shook your head, "i don't really want to talk about it right now," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

jay nodded understandingly, “that's okay. you don't have to talk about it if you're not ready." he paused, taking another sip of his coffee, "actually, i was planning to go to the mall today with my girlfriend and jake. we thought it might be fun to hang out and take our minds off things. would you like to join us? it could be like a double date."

you hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. the idea of spending time with friends and getting out of the house sounded appealing, “yeah, i think i'd like that," you agreed, feeling a small sense of relief.

jay's face lit up with a smile. "great! we'll leave in about an hour. take your time getting ready."

you nodded and headed back to your room to change. as you dressed, you couldn't help but think about sunghoon. you hoped that some time apart would give both of you the space to cool down and reflect on what had happened.

an hour later, you found yourself in jay's car, with his girlfriend in the front seat and jake sitting beside you in the back. the drive to the mall was filled with light-hearted chatter and laughter, and you felt your spirits lift as you listened to their banter.

when you arrived at the mall, the four of you wandered through the stores, stopping to browse and try on clothes. jay's girlfriend, hana, was sweet and friendly, and she quickly made you feel at ease. she linked arms with you as you walked, chatting animatedly about the latest fashion trends she took an interest too.

jake kept the mood light with his playful teasing and witty remarks. you found yourself laughing more than you had in days, and the tension from the previous night began to melt away.

at one point, you all stopped at a café for a break. as you sipped on your iced coffee, jay leaned in and gave you a reassuring smile, "i'm glad you came with us today," he said softly, “sometimes, a little distraction is all we need to feel better."

you nodded, feeling grateful for his understanding and support. just as you were gonna say something, your eyes wandered across the room and landed on a familiar figure.

sunghoon was there, sitting at a table with a girl. they were deep in conversation, laughing and smiling, completely absorbed in each other. your heart sank, a cold wave of realization crashing over you. it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, and the once comforting warmth of the café turned into a stifling heat.

as if sensing the reader's gaze, sunghoon looked up and their eyes met. for a moment, time seemed to stand still. you could see the surprise in his eyes, quickly followed by something else—guilt, perhaps? the girl with him noticed the change in his demeanor and turned to see what had caught his attention.

you quickly looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. the moment of peace was shattered, replaced by a whirlwind of emotions. you stood up abruptly, leaving your half-finished latte behind, and hurried out of the café, the sound of sunghoon's laughter still echoing in their ears. he’s never laughed like that towards you.

the sight of the girls behind, you knew she had to be pretty with the way her hair looked smooth and straight. her clothes fitting her body perfectly. you felt tears in your eyes after finally knowing that sunghoon was just using you.

you walked briskly down the street, your mind racing. you didn't know where you were going; you just needed to get away. the sound of footsteps behind you made you quicken your pace, but a familiar voice called out your name, stopping you in your tracks.

“wait! please, just wait!" sunghoon's voice was breathless, and when you turned around, you saw the desperation in his eyes.

“what do you want, sunghoon?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“i can explain," he said, stepping closer. "it's not what you think. she's just a friend, i swear."

“do you think I'm stupid?" you shot back, anger and hurt lacing your words. "i saw how you were with her."

before sunghoon could respond, you heard another set of voices approaching. jay, hana, and jake appeared, looking concerned.

“what's going on here?" Jay demanded, his eyes narrowing as he looked between you and sunghoon, "why have you guys been acting like this?"

“it’s not what it looks like," Sunghoon started, but jay cut him off.

“then what is it?" jay's voice was rising, and you could see the frustration building. "you two have been acting weird for weeks, and now this? i thought we were friends sunghoon!”

jake stepped forward, trying to defuse the situation, "let's all just calm down and talk about this."

but jay wasn't having it, "no, i want to know the truth. are you two...?" he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, "there's nothing going on between us, jay. sunghoon and i are just friends. but seeing him with that girl... it hurt."

jay looked at you, his pissed off expression slowly fading slightly, "why didn't you tell me you had feelings for him?"

“b-because i knew you would be mad. and because sunghoon doesn’t like me in that way." you admitted, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. you felt embarrassed and guilty.

sunghoon stepped closer, his eyes filled with regret, "i'm sorry. i never meant to hurt you. i should have been honest."

you look up at sunghoon teary eyed. before sunghoon could step closer towards you, jay cut him off, “get the fuck away from her.”

everyone stared at jay in shock. he’s never cussed at any of his best friends, “i trusted you sunghoon and jake to not go after my sister for so many reasons and that’s the first thing you do? until she explains everything to me from a to z, you’re not coming to my house. you’re not gonna speak to me or her until you get your shit together.” he demanded.

he left without a word while hana followed him. jake stared at both of you pitying before following along. you slowly got up and walked past sunghoon. before you could walk away, sunghoon softly grabbed your wrist.

you met his soft gaze, “i’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. you didn’t say anything and left him alone. it was your turn to walk out on him.

taglist:

@laylasbunbunny @umsivsworld @woofie-nctzen-fanarts

[evie-sturns]

avoid - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when matt calls you out on you pushing him away, until a huge fight breaks out between the two of you. a couple hours later you find him a mess, you have no choice but to make things right.

contains: angst, crying, arguing, yelling, fluff, comforting, swearing.

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

you didn't realise you were doing it, you just were.

you had accidentally been avoiding him and pushing him away for the past couple of weeks, there wasn't a specific reason but you just were.

9:04pm

i'm laying on the couch alone, watching some random romcom as i stare at the screen.

the floorboards creak as i hear matt coming down the hallway, his footsteps are heavy as he approaches the living room.

he stands in the doorway, just observing me for a couple of seconds.

i hear his lips part as he gets ready to speak.

"y/n..?" he mutters softly, his voice is weak and shy.

i hum quietly as a response, not even diverting my gaze away from the bright screen. i hear matt huff slightly, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"what- why- can you at least look at me when im speaking?" matt scoffs.

"what difference does it make?" i mumble back, still staring at the television.

"makes me think you might actually give a shit about me still." matt spits, his arms fold over his chest as he leans against the doorway,

"pfft." i dismiss him which only sets matt off even more.

"why are you acting like this? seriously!" matt exclaims,

"why are you being so sensitive." i groan,

i know i’m being annoying as shit, but i can’t help it, i’m just doing what i can to tick him off.

matt just stares at me, his breathing heavy as i see him visibly start fuming.

“you wanna know what it is? you’ve been acting like a total stranger for the past couple months and i’m done with it, i’m done with you.” matt raises his voice

i stand up off the couch, standing a couple feet away from matt as i lock eyes with him,

“me? i’ve been acting like i stranger?” i laugh dryly, not cause this situation is amusing, i’m just in shock.

“yes! you’ve been treating me like crap for the past too long!” matt keeps his voice raises,

i point my finger at his chest as i walk closer to him, “you cannot be serious? i literally do everything for you? i gave up so many things for more time with you!”

“i didn’t ASK you to do that! nobody did!” he scoffs loudly, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from his chest.

“so it meant nothing to you? clearly you’re not appreciating my love for y-“

matt cuts me off,

“don’t even. you’re trying to make me feel bad when i’m literally trying to talk to you about my feelings!”

his eyes are narrow slits now, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

“let me go, now.” i mutter angrily,

“just listen to me!” he spits, moving his hand off of my wrist to grab my shoulders,

he jolts me back and forth harshly,

“i fucking hate this new attitude of yours, you’re the most self centred bitch ever!” matt shouts,

his voice booms through my living room, making my heart race quicken.

“would you just shut up- shut up!” i scream,

matt shoves me back gently, not enough to actually hurt me, just enough to get his point enough.

“you’re just- you’re just being ridiculous?” matt mutters, turning on his heels and walking away from me.

“i fucking hate you! i hope you get that through your thick head!” i snap

i didn’t mean it.

not at all.

i was so angry, just doing anything i could to be mean.

i hear matt’s heavy footsteps as he walks up the stairs, followed by the door slamming shut.

i flop down on the couch, running a hand through my hair as i pant.

i don’t know why i said any of that.

(35 minutes later)

i’ve just been thinking for the past half hour, about things i shouldn’t have said, things i shouldn’t of done.

i’ve held back all my emotions, feeling somewhat numb, except for the intense feeling of guilt gnawing away at me

the whole house has been eerily silent, usually it would be filled with matt and i’s endless giggles, but it’s not.

i stand up off the couch, my legs somewhat wobbly and my stomach churning with immense guilt.

i need to talk to him,

i drag my feet over to the bottom of the stairwell, knowing matt’s at the top of the stairs, locked away in our bedroom.

one step,

after another,

i slowly walk up the stairs.

my heart pounds against my rib cage, not knowing what matt would say, nor think, when he saw me in the doorway,

the same person that just screamed at him, making him believe that i hated him.

i reach his door, my hand stalling on the doorknob as i let out a soft sigh.

i couldn’t bring myself to just twist the doorknob, my hand was lightly shaking.

i swallow harshly before twisting the knob,

i stand in the doorway, looking around the dimly lit room.

there’s a discomforting feeling in the air, the room is cold.

my eyes search around the room until they land on matt.

he’s laying down on the bed, his back facing me and his still.

is he asleep?

“matt..?” i call out quietly, my voice breaking.

i walk over to the bed, my footsteps light.

suddenly i hear him,

a choked sob escapes him.

he’s crying?

i made him cry,

matt’s never cried infront of me before

and i’m the reason he now has.

“baby- are you crying-?” i whisper, reaching down and brushing his hair away from his eyes. he shivers at my touch, rolling over so his face is buried in the pillow.

i quickly crawl into bed beside him.

“please- please don’t cry-“ i mutter, my tone is panicked as i reach for him.

i sit up against the headboard as he stays buried in the pillows beside me, letting out strangled sobs.

“please look at me- darling i am so sorry, seriously.” i speak softly, my voice just loud enough so it’s audible to him

“matt, look at me please.” i say, my tone shaky as my voice cracks again.

he gently lifts his face from the pillows,

i take the opportunity to grab him, and tug him to sit up beside me.

i run my hands through his messy hair, he looks like a wreck, i feel terrible.

his eyes are swollen, his lips are a deep red and puffy and tears roll down his pale cheeks.

i grab his hands, “matt,” i sigh, “y-you’re killing me.”

matt stares down at the bed, “can- can i have a hug?” he whispers with a small hiccup.

“of course you can have a hug.” i sigh, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his body flush against mine.

i hold him close to me as i lay down on the bed, his head buried in my chest.

he sniffs shakily as he just cries, letting everything out.

i can still feel the undeniable tension in the air,

we’re both so angry at eachother still, it’s hard not to be after argument like that.

“hey, it’ll be okay- we’ll be okay.” i whisper, running my fingers through his locks of hair.

he lets out another sob against me, the noise making my heart break.

“you’re gonna make me cry.” i whisper with a small sigh, holding the back of his head gently.

“sorry.” he sniffles.

i hold him in my arms, whispering small words of affirmation while matt slowly starts to calm down.

i fight back the tears in my eyes as i attempt to stay strong for him.

“could we- talk maybe?” matt sniffs, wiping his eyes on my shirt before slowly lifting himself away from me.

he sits up on the headboard beside me, his legs outstretched and his hands still gently shaking.

“i think we need to.” i nod,

we both sit in silence for a second, waiting for one person to start.

“i know i was-“ i start but matt interrupts me,

“can i go first- i just want to tell you… how i’ve been feeling.” he rambles, his voice cracking.

i nod, “yeah..”

matt starts,

“i mean it when i say you’ve been stupidly distant for the past months, everytime i try to initiate anything with you, i just get brushed off, all of our conversations are shallow and i can’t tell if you actually care about me anymore!”

i stare at him as he rambles, trying to take all of his words to heart without getting mad again.

“i love you so much, and it’s hurting me to see you slowly drift away from me, i just want to know what i did wrong..?” he follows on, swallowing harshly,

i nod slightly, my lips parting to speak but no words coming out.

“i’m not trying to push you away matt.” i whisper,

he goes to speak but i interrupt, “i think it’s just a mix of everything, i’m just so exhausted with work after half my coworkers quit, i’ve been working long hours and i don’t mean to push you away, i swear.” i ramble on,

matt nods slightly with understanding, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“i love you so much matt, and i’m trying to do better, i promise.” i finish,

matt just looks at me, before finally nodding.

he lets out a breath, one that i can tell took a weight off his shoulders.

“i’m sorry about the argument.” matt says,

i shake my head, “no i was being a pain on purpose, it could’ve been avoided if i acted differently.”

“i came at you with like a confronting tone- i should’ve approached it better.” he speaks,

“and i also shouldn’t have laid my hands on you, i didn’t mean for it to ever get physical..” matt whispers, his eyebrows furrowing as he breaks eye contact with me,

“it’s okay, i needed it-“ i try to defend his actions but he cuts me off,

“no- no that was a shitty thing for me to do, i feel super guilty about it.” he sighs,

the room goes silent, my heart aches as i try to apologise for that one thing i said, the 3 words that exited my mouth, which is now eating me alive.

“i’m sorry- for saying i hate you.. i- i don’t i swear, it wasn’t true at all i was just saying it to make you mad- i promise, i love you more than life itself.” i spit it out.

matt’s gaze softens,

my eyes well up with tears, “i shouldn’t have said that, i’m so sorry-“ i whisper out,

matt reaches his hands up to my face, his hands caressing my cheeks and his thumbs wipe my eyes quickly.

“no tears.” he gently coos,

“i’m so sorry- i fucked up so bad-“ i continue, but matt cuts me off.

he presses his lips to mine, his hands still firmly on the sides of my face.

he rolls us over so he’s ontop of me, keeping our lips connected.

i kiss back, distracting myself from the swirling thoughts in my head.

after a few moments he pulls away from my lips with a small ‘pop’.

a warm smile appears on his face as he peppers kisses all over my face.

i squirm with a giggle as his pecks kisses all over me, before pressing a final peck to my lips.

“we’ll always talk things out next time, i promise this won’t happen again.” he whispers comfortingly, his hands gently running through my hair.

i nod in agreement, “i love you.”

“love you too sweetie.” he whispers, before going back to peppering kisses all over my face.

-

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