#the hems the main thing really left now
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ah, i got plenny of time
(this isnt finished)
(cons tomorrow)
#honestly this would be finished if i hadnt been so Me about it#i spent like. a stupid amount of time not letting myself just. do the circle skirt#but i did it in the end and you know what? im happy about it. so THERE past me#sewing#flora reinhold cosplay#the hems the main thing really left now#and the wig styling but honestly i dont think this is a recognisable enough costume to worry about doing much to it#ive got a list of things im gonna redo at some point in the future. but itll be wearable#sorry about 0 updates simply. i was working
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again
Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)
You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.
‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.
‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.
‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.
You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.
The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.
You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.
‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.
‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?
‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.
‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.
‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.
‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.
‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.
‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.
‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.
Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.
‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.
Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.
Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.
You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.
Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.
‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.
‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.
‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.
‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.
‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.
‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.
‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.
‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.
‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.
Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.
‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.
His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.
‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.
‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.
Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.
‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.
‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.
‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.
‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.
‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.
Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey
#barry keoghan#oliver quick#barry keoghan smut#oliver quick smut#druig smut#druig x female reader#druig x reader#druig x y/n#oliver quick fanfic#oliver quick x reader#barry keogan x reader#druig fanfiction#druig imagine#michael gavey smut#felix catton#felix catton smut#oliver quick x reader smut#saltburn smut#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn#saltburn oliver#michael gavey
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come get this pollen - joel miller
pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: with tommy hosting the bbq this year, that leaves joel in charge of one thing: you. inspired by this tweet | can be read by itself, but if you crave more beekeeper!joel read parts one & two ;) warnings: 18+ bc smut duh, not proofread, reader being reckless & gross in front of Sarah (let us pls remember & acknowledge how unrealistic this dynamic is 🙏🏽🙏🏽), joel is a perv what’s new?, honey play (yeast infections don’t exist in this timeline heheheheheh), brief breeding kink, oral (m+f), overstimulation, unprotected rough piv, pet names, sort of? established relationship, catching people and getting caught, joel "disciplining" you and absolutely slutting you out!!!!!!!, a little bit of corny humor at the end word count: 3.7k a/n: erm... ik it's late but i literally started writing this the morning AFTER the fourth ijbol. final part i will plan for this series for now but i’m always open for requests <3
series masterlist | main masterlist
♡
You greeted Tommy and Maria at Joel's door with smiles and hugs, noticing the pair of chubby cheeks attached to the woman's hip.
"And who's this little fella?" You cooed, reaching for the baby once Maria held him out for you.
"This is Jackson," Maria answers. "He'll be six months in a few days."
With wide eyes you smile at the gleaming baby now resting on your waist, cooing little praises at him and bouncing your body to earn a few giggles. "Well you are just the cutest little thing I've ever seen, yesyouare."
You catch up with the couple and walk around Joel's house for just a few minutes until Jackson started reaching for Maria; you said bye-bye and made your way up to Sarah's bedroom.
"Sarah do y���EW!"
You slammed the door shut and stood frozen in the hallway, ignoring Sarah's protests for you to knock on a closed door next time.
"Sorry, I forget you can't exactly white-sock-it at your dad's house," you begrudgingly joked.
Sarah whipped the door open with a pissed off look plastered on her face, her boyfriend having a seemingly more embarrassed look.
"What do you need?"
With a grimace you asked, "Do you still have that dress that I left over here last weekend?"
She rolled her deep brown eyes, knowing you were just trying to catch her father's perverted eye, and stomped away, leaving her distressed and disheveled boyfriend in your view. He awkwardly smiled and offered a wave that just made you want to crawl into a hole and die, but you opted to stiffly smile back.
Before you could register anything else the dress was being thrown into your face and the door was slammed shut again.
"Bitch," you mumbled underneath your breath as you walked into the bathroom.
You shimmied out of your American Eagle shorts and tank top; slipping into the short dress, you couldn't help but notice how bunched up your underwear looked beneath the fabric. You tried pulling them up higher, folding the hem, hell you even gave yourself the world's deepest wedgie just to fail at concealing the grey article of clothing.
You grunted, really not wanting to wear those shorts again because your thighs seemed to swallow the hems whole every time you sat down, but what else would conceal your seamless panties that decided to appear as granny panties today?
You could ask Sarah for a pair, but that was just weird. You could just deal with it, but you knew you wouldn't stop thinking about it. You could just go commando, but...
"Fuck it," you mumbled when you couldn't think of a con to go without undergarments.
You slithered out of your panties and wrapped your clothes around them, discarding them in Joel's room on your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.
"Hey, 'bout time you found me," he greeted.
He glanced out of the patio door, sneaking a kiss with you when no one was watching.
"Sorry. I was saying hi to Sarah and Alex," you lied.
"Mmm, you smell good," he said against your lips after catching a whiff of your shampoo. "Look good too. You want somethin' to drink?"
You trailed behind him to the fridge, wrapping your arms around his soft waist. "Yeah, but it's not gonna be in there," you teased.
He chuckled, pulling out an iced tea for you, and not responding. He’s playing hard to get.
“Mm,” you hummed, stepping onto your tippy toes to brush your lips against the shell of his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
He chuckled, poker face in full effect. “Good girl,” was the last thing he said before walking into the hallway towards the backyard, leaving a disappointed you in the kitchen alone.
The day went by slow enough, and yet you were unable to find that window of opportunity to get Joel alone. He was constantly helping or talking to someone — holding the baby so Maria could go get the door. Preparing more burger patties for Tommy. Offering a smile or two to women who expressed interest in him, or a laugh about golf with the men.
You were stuck listening to Sarah’s friends from college rant and rave about… Whatever they were into. You genuinely tried to listen but it was hard to keep up with how many like’s and literally’s and bro’s and duh’s they felt the need to use.
Alex called your name, catching your attention. “Why don’t you and my boy Johnnie hang out sometime? You’re single right?”
A stiff smile tugged on your cheeks, and your eyes flickered to Sarah for help, but her’s only widened slightly.
“Uh, no. No. Not single,” you blabbered. “Sorry.”
“Oh— well, who’re dating?”
“Uhhhhhhhh… He’s an older guy, you wouldn’t really know him.”
“Oh,” Alex said.
“H-how much older?” Johnnie chimed in, looking a little bummed.
You accidentally laughed, unable to contain your nerves. “Like… Fifties,” you said too quietly.
“Huh?”
“Firework time!” Tommy shouted.
“Thank, God,” both you and Sarah said to each other.
“Sorry!” She said after jogging to stand next to you. “I totally fucking blanked.”
“It’s fine,” you exhaled, “I just couldn’t come up with a better lie.”
“Wait, so are you dating my dad?”
You shrugged. “Eh. It’s not official if that’s what you mean.”
“I just wanna make sure I’m not gonna have to choose between my best friend and my dad,” she explained.
“You’d totally pick me though. Right?” You asked hopefully, looking at her with wide eyes.
“Totally,” she repeated with a warm smile.
You looked through the small crowd in seek of Joel, finding him standing on the left side of whatever explosive his brother was packing into the ground. His eyes found yours and he gave you a subtle smile, eyes trailing over the dress that squeezed your breasts and hugged your waist. He shot you a wink before reluctantly looking away, playfully flicking the lighter in his dominant hand.
“Is it cool if I stand go see your dad?” You asked.
“Don’t leave me with them, they’ll ask questions,” Sarah quietly pleaded with a strong tug on your arm.
“Then go with me!” You whispered back. “Tell them you wanna be in the family videos.”
She deadpanned you. “Now you manage to come up with a good lie?”
“Oh! Just do it!”
Your body apologetically moved through the small swarm of people, unsuspectingly making your way over to Joel with Sarah right behind you.
“Light ‘em up,” Tommy told Joel.
Soon after there was that familiar loud whistle rutting against your eardrums, a hissing sound traveling into the sky before the different colors spiraled into a nonsensical design. Kids shouted joyfully, aside from the Jensen’s baby who let out a small cry, and scattered conversation filled the remaining space of empty sound.
You felt more comfortable in Joel’s presence, even when his attention wasn’t completely on you, and even more with your best friend by your side.
You could smell the cheap body spray you picked out for him when you were at Walmart alone a few weeks ago. It took some convincing, but eventually he promised to wear it for you at some point.
It smelled even better being mixed with his musk and pheromones and the layer of sweat he always seemed to have in the Texas heat.
His brown t-shirt proven too tight around his biceps, nestling against his broad shoulder blades with a thin stripe of sweat resting along his spine.
You felt a small gush, suddenly regaining awareness of the fact that you had no panties on right now. Your cheeks beamed a deep red, legs clenching as you tried to smear the precum instead of letting it trickle down your thighs.
Right now your perfectly clean, soft, cum catching Victoria’s Secret cheekies were collecting Joel’s dust in Joel’s room next to Joel’s bed, and you felt absolutely agonizingly exposed even though the only person that knew you were commando was you.
But then Joel’s laugh caught your attention, eyes being drawn back to the curve of his soft tummy, and you decided to use your naked dilemma to your advantage.
But how could we get from point A to point Tease?
“Sarah, you wanna light a firework?” Tommy shouted.
“Hell! No!” She yelled, gaining a couple of disappointed looks from people but a chuckle from you. “I’ve seen people blowing their hands off. Unh-unh, no thanks Uncle Tommy.”
“Agh. Come onnn,” Joel urged. “Don’t be a pussy.”
“Name calling won’t work this time,” she retorted.
“What about’chu?” Joel asked, a daunting look in his dark eyes.
Bend over, give him a little show just to risk losing a limb? Sign me up, you thought.
“Sure, why not?”
You gently pulled the yellow lighter from Joel’s hot hand, brushing your ass against his lower belly as you went to stand in front of him.
“I just light the red thing?” You asked Tommy.
“Yeah, ‘n do it at an angle so you don’t blow your fingers off,” he said nonchalantly.
“O…kay?”
You bent over, slow enough to ensure the skirt of your dress not popping up. You flicked the lighter, forcing a flame to appear, and held it to the red string sticking out.
Just as the string caught the flame, you felt a breeze ghost over your slick cunt, and Joel let out a strained sigh loud enough for you to hear from where you were.
You took a few steps away and backed into Joel’s frame “accidentally”. Everyone watched in awe as the red’s and blue’s filled the black sky for a few seconds, while Tommy set up another firework for you to light.
You bent over a little more subtly, but still enough to give Joel’s something to look at.
After hopping back between Joel and Sarah once the next explosive went up, you gave Joel’s his lighter back and grinned real wide at him.
But when you turned back to face your best friend, all but a pleasant look wore her face.
“You guys are disgusting,” she spat. “Where are your panties?”
“I had to take them off because they looked like a dirty diaper.”
“Ugh, you are so lucky I love you,” she said with her face in her hands.
You kissed her cheek and behaved yourself for a few more minutes, but as the night grew darker the wetter you became. You needed to get Joel alone now or you would become inconsolable.
“Can I light one more?”
Joel nodded, offering you the lighter once more, and Sarah had to fight the urge to throw her hands up in the air.
You bent over once more, this time leaving a hand on the crease on your ass.
Come on, Joel thought, give me a peek of that pretty hole.
And you did just that; while everyone was watching the firework spiral into the air Joel watched you tug your ass to the side, revealing your small hole that glistened.
“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, fighting the growing bulge in his Levi’s.
You told Sarah to try lighting one, and she reluctantly agreed to; you stayed until it went off before excusing yourself inside the house.
Making your way into to the kitchen, you tried your best to quickly wipe up the mess that covered your inner thighs, but a hand gripped your forearm.
You screeched, but let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Joel.
Without hesitation you got on your knees and looked up at him as if you had no idea what you’d done. You reached for his pants, but he swatted your hand away and carried you onto the island counter, pushing your chest to make you lay down.
Before you could question it his lips inhaled your clit, sucking it a little too hard and making your body jolt.
You searched for his eyes, but the darkness in the room swallowed every fine detail you sought whenever Joel landed between your legs, forcing you to just focus on the feeling.
His heavy tongue licked a quick line from the bottom of your sticky slit to the hood of your clit, pulling the little nub into his hot mouth again. Suckling it until you threatened him with a breathy moan.
He pulled back and popped his rough hand on your clit, the stinging causing you to bite your lip and quiet yourself.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he harshly whispered.
“Need you—“
“Shut up,” he repeated firmly before diving back into your heated core again.
You tried reaching to tug at his hair but he swatted your hands away once more; you were blindly searching for something along the slab of marble to grip onto, accidentally knocking over a jar of something sticky.
You frantically tried to put the jar back up but Joel was sucking your pussy to hard and deliciously. Eventually you fixed the spilled issue, recognizing the texture as Joel’s silky honey from his beehives.
“Here,” you moaned, shoving your fingers beneath his swollen lips.
He hummed in approval, slurping up the remnants from your trembling digits. You gripped the edge of the countertop and bucked your hips, Joel’s nose nestling into the throbbing edges of your clit.
Shaking his head to intensify the pleasure, his nose tickled your little bundle of nerves, that orgasmic tingling climbing the edge of release.
“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” you moaned softly.
That made him groan and eat you more sloppy than ever before. The obscene noises between his thick tongue and your slobbering pussy was filthy, disgusting almost.
Your moans were silenced behind your gritted teeth, legs burying Joel’s face deeper into your pulsing core, and he ensured his nose would continue rutting against your clit.
Your cry of euphoria was covered by a loud firework; Joel recognized that moan. You were cumming, leaking juices and honey into his mouth like a dam being released for the first time ever.
He lapped it up like a thirsty dog, not even savoring the taste before he found the urge to start slurping up your already sensitive clit again.
You whined, arms flailing in a poor attempt to remove his head.
It hurt it hurt it hurt so fucking bad.
But you couldn’t fight the grip Joel’s had around your thighs. The more you wiggled the more sensitive you became. You whined, accepting your fate and allowing your legs to tremble against his touch.
He made you endure the worst of it: the pain that swallowed you whole and antagonized every nerve ending in your body.
You’d fight harder if it were anyone else, but Joel elicited submission from you. You’d have him punish you anyway he deemed justified if it meant you got to have him.
You gurgled on your saliva, choking on your strained moans.
It was only until he’d had lost too much oxygen that he finally alleviated you from your suffering.
“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” he huffed, dropping his pants and boxers to his ankles.
You eagerly listened, feeling his hand grip your hair and force your eyes to look into his.
“Little fuckin’ slut wants to tease me in front’a everybody? Hmm? You thinks it’s okay to spread your fuckin’ pussy like that?”
He found the glass jar that was coated in the sweet nectar, holding it up in the moonlight for you to see.
“Look at the mess you made, baby,” he said in a mocking tone. “Gonna have to clean it up.”
Joel tipped the jar, pouring more than enough honey all over his painfully hard cock.
Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the corners of your lips at the mere thought of the taste.
“Clean it up with your mouth for me, baby… Hands behind your back.”
You listened to his instructions, waffling your fingers together against the small of your back and curling your tongue against his velvety mushroom cockhead.
The salty taste made you moan, eyes narrowing up at his own. The slight glow of moonlight showing off the teardrops of honey dangling from his girthy shaft.
After you licked your yearning lips you took him into your mouth, gagging at the sickly sweet taste of too much honey.
“Ah, baby,” he whimpered. “Want me to fuck that cute little face a’yours?”
“M—mmhm,” you gurgled.
“Yeah?”
He held your head in place and thrusted into your drooling mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat with a lack of mercy.
Tears stung your eyes, excessive amounts of honey glossing over your trembling chin.
“You poor thing. Was that pretty little pussy dripping for me all day?”
You gurgled again, gagging on your hums of confirmation, nodding your dizzy head as he continued to fuck your face.
“Awwwh, such a needy little slut,” he cooed. “Need this cock deeper in that mouth, hmm?”
You nodded even more assuringly than before, moaning around his thick shaft. You blew bubbles of spit around his cock, keep his cock slippery enough to glide down your throat.
His breath was shaky, both hands now on your head, and soon after your throat was being stretched beyond its limits. You gagged around him, tears now flooding your puffy cheeks.
You reached up to give his heavy balls a decent tug, then squeezed them until you received a moan from his strained throat.
He growled when he yanked his cock from your throat, holding your head steady as you worked your way through your coughing fit.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he moaned throat gritted teeth, squatting to be eye level with you. He smacked your jaw once, twice, three times before licking the honey and tears from your face, sloppy kisses being shared occasionally. “Such a fucking good little slut.”
“Just for you,” you whimpered.
“Oh really?” He laughed cruelly. “That why you were showin’ the world your pussy?”
“Jus’ you,” you assured.
“Yeah? We’ll see about that.”
He stood you up and bent you over the counter, stretching the fabric of your dress from pulling it up to hard.
He pinched your pussy lips and leaned onto your back after you screeched.
“Who else you tryna show this pretty little thing to?”
“Ah— fuck. Ju— you, baby. Just you.”
Joel released his grip on your cunt, pushing his tip between your sore lips. Despite the slight burn, he filled you quickly and smoothly.
“Look at this fucking pussy,” he moaned. “Mmhmm. Fuckin’ swallowing my cock like a good little thing. This pussy’s all mine?”
“Yes!” You cried out.
Your weight rested entirely on your stomach, feet swinging in the air, head bobbing and hip painfully bumping into the corner of the surface.
“She’s all mine, baby?” He asked again.
“YESyesyesyes!”
His wrapped a hand around your open mouth, muffling your cries before they turned into screamed.
“Good job, babydoll,” he smiled. “Good job. You’re doing such a good job takin’ this fucking cock.”
“S’big,” you muffled into his clammy hand.
“Goddamn. I got you this wet, baby? Oh, you musta been clenching those pretty legs all day thinkin’ ‘bout me.“
You knew he was talking to himself, using you like a fucktoy. You loved when he fucked you hard, opposing his usual routine of being gentle. He always made you feel good, but when you really needed it he knew how to wear you out.
And it was dumb, really — him forcing you to keep quiet though if it were even just a little more quiet outside everyone would hear the sound of your ass clapping against his tummy pudge.
But it wasn’t about being quiet, it almost never is. It was about keeping you disciplined.
Joel’s thick fingerpads found your clit, pinching the sensitive nub before rubbing big, deep circles.
You clawed at the hand on your mouth, legs looping around his tense hairy legs to balance yourself.
“Yeah, take that cock, slut,” he whispered against your earlobe. “Actin’ all desperate for me. Gonna fuckin’ breed this perfect pussy.”
His filthy words made your knees buckle and your eyes roll back. Your gummy walls clenched around him, thick white cream coating his honey drenched cock.
Joel could feel your clit throbbing between his clumsy fingers, he watched your back rise and fall quickly as your pussy squelched around him from your orgasm.
He gave you one final hard thrust, a rope of his cum shooting into you, his cock throbbing, begging for more release.
“Tell me it’s mine,” he said tiredly.
“It’s all yours, baby. Fu- it’s yoursyoursyours! I belong to you. I fucking belong to you, my pussy was made for you!”
He started thrusting somewhere in the midst of your cock drunk babbles, grunting loudly as he filled you with his warm seed.
“I’m all yours, Joel,” you repeated softly as he finished.
“Yo, Joel, what the— fuck?!”
You ducked below the counter and held your mouth while Joel fixed his pants. Of all people that could’ve walked in it had to be his brother?
Actually, the more you thought about it the better it seemed.
You stared up at Joel’s blank expression and rolled your eyes before standing up.
“Sorry,” you grimaced. “I stole him. Just tell everyone I got sick and he was making sure I was alright.”
“Why is their honey all over the fucking counter?!” Tommy asked as he picked up the sticky jar.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Joel said.
“No,” the younger man said in disbelief.
You both just stared at him and shrugged.
“How long were we gone?” You asked after Tommy finished berating Joel.
“Like twenty minutes, why?”
“We said we were gonna try that one position next time,” you reminded Joel.
Joel frowned for a moment before remembering the complicated position you stumbled upon a few days prior. He looked to Tommy with a smile.
“No,” he firmed answered.
Joel sighed turning back to you. “Tomorrow, baby.”
“Fine. I’m gonna go get a shower.”
You gave Joel one last kiss and said goodnight to Tommy before heading upstairs.
“Sarah’s best friend?” Tommy questioned as the two men made their way back outside.
Joel, who was still wearing that big smile said, “I know. She’s hot, right?”
#pedro pascal#joel miller#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller blurb#beekeeper!joel
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Inappropriate Behavior in the Workplace
Synopsis: you decide to give your lover a hand in his work as a bartender, helping out as a waitress for the busy friday night. little did he know that your intentions were far from pure...
Characters: diluc ragnvindr; gallagher.
Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; unprotected sex (please use protection in real life!); semi-public sex (you fuck in the empty tavern); soft men becoming rough men; spanking; reader is a brat; reader wears a skirt; your man becomes a horny mess for you good luck dealing with him; headcanons + a drabble.
A/N: diluc 🤝 gallagher -> hot guys that work at a bar (and fuck their lover there post-work hours) that make my brain go brrrrrr.
<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>
He should have known. He should have listened to his gut feeling that you were up to no good, when you were suddenly very insistent about helping him out at the bar that friday.
But nooooo, you had to bat those little doe eyes of yours at him, like the purest, sweetest angel that you are for him to give in to your whims.
After all, that would mean spending more time with his beloved woman, instead of having her wait for him all alone back home.
Oh, if only he could look past the rose-tinted lens of love and adoration to realize the perfect trap you had prepared for him...
There were essentially three main situations that should have given you away, but that fool (/affectionate) is too much in love with you to have realized in time:
The first being your insistance of wanting to work with him in one of the busiest nights of the week. Your reason? He's been too busy lately with his other duties, so you wanted to at least be beside him... (Critical hit in his heart).
The second, your unusual choice of clothing - a skirt. Now, he isn't one to tell you what you should or shouldn't wear, he's simply surprised by it, considering it's a rare sight for you to use it. And hey, you looked absolutely beautiful with it.
The third and most obvious one - your smile. But not any smile. The one you specifically have on your lips when you have some mischief up your sleeve. Like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspected bird.
When everything clicked inside his head, it was already too late...
You had gone behind the bar to help him clean the counter, the rush of customers dying down for the moment. While distracted wiping a glass, he accidentaly bumped into you, causing you to drop the empty cans left by some customers.
He quickly apologized, but you reassured it was fine, which really was! (He unbeknownst set the scene for the grand finale of your nefarious plan).
You, helpful as always, bent down to pick up the cans without thinking twice, causing the hem of your skirt to raise up a bit too much. Your man, gentleman as he is, was about to warn you to be careful, but any coherent thought was thrown out of the window.
It was a just glimpse. He could argue that it was just the work of his dirty imagination. A trick of the light. Anything.
But no. He knew exactly what he saw. And the wink that you gave him as you sauntered away was all the confirmation he needed to know he wasn't mistaken.
You're not using any panties.
You're working in his establishment, looking stunning as usual, with your pussy hidden only by your skirt.
Oh he feels light headed... due to all the blood going straight to his crotch.
It all makes sense now, your behavior, your choice of clothing... And now you're suddenly taking care of the tables, knowing that he can't leave the bar anymore with the big tent in his pants.
...Is this punishment for not paying attention to you the past few days? If so, he never knew you could go to such lengths to teach him a lesson...
Still, you should know that your lover isn't one to take things laying down. So, you better enjoy yourself making him squirm while you still have the advantage...
And enjoy yourself you do, much to his dismay.
He follows you with his eyes like a hawk, mind swirling with a myriad of feelings: annoyance, for being teased so cruely like this; worry, that someone might accidentaly see what they shouldn't; impatience, for the damn clock to stop dragging its hands and reach closing time already; and arousal, for having being tricked into a situation which you are the one in control.
As the night goes slowly by and the number of customers begins to decrease, the tension between the two of you grows more and more, like a volcano about to erupt.
Until finally, at long last, it's time to close the tavern.
It's time to show you the consequences of your actions.
----------
After bidding his employees a good night, he wastes not a single second more, locking the door behind him as the last inch of his patience snaps.
You're wiping one of the tables, pretending not to hear his steps coming closer to you from behind, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. Before you can utter a word, you see his shadow falling on you, like a predator ready to pounce on his cornered prey.
He takes the dirty rag from your hand and throws it away, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His other hand goes to grab your chin, turning your head to the side before stealing your breath with a kiss.
Actually, it can't even be called a kiss, but more like a two pairs of lips mashed together. It's messy, desperate and intense, his tongue invading your mouth with the objective of claiming every single part of you. Your lover's touch is rough, but not without care. Even when he's lost amidst the fiery passion that has consumed his usual composure, he never fails to make you feel loved.
As intoxicating as this moment feels, the need of oxygen is still a necessary thing for the both of you, prompting him to finally release your lips with a gasp for air. But not a second later he latches his mouth on your neck, nibbling, kissing and licking the tender flesh that soon becomes warm by his attention.
"Do you have any idea of what you did to me today?" His question is a rhetoric one, aware that your ability to think straight isn't working anymore to string an answer. "What am I saying, of course you do. In fact, you've came up with your little plan wanting things to turn out this way, right?"
Your only response is a moan when he grinds his clothed erection on your behind. Honestly, you didn't expect your plan to work so well like this, witnessing a side of him you're not used to, but still very turned on.
"Walking around all pretty like this, serving customers and helping the other employees out, with no panties on..." You let out a gasp of surprise when you're suddenly pushed down on the table, your skirt flipped out to expose your bare private parts, your cheeks flaring up as he caresses your buttock. "...Who knew I had such a lewd girl for a lover."
The harsh slap on your ass forces a loud yelp out of you, the pain of the sting mixing with pleasure that makes you shuddering. The sight of the plush skin jiggling at his action leaves him hypnotized and with his pants even tighter.
"I was tense the whole night, you know. Worried that some scumbag would try something funny and end up seeing what is for my eyes only." Another slap, now on the other asscheek, and he notices your pussy glistening with arousal at each hit. "You're getting even wetter... You're enjoying this, huh?"
A pitful whine of his name paired with the teary look you throw at him is enough to convince him to give up on his previous idea of dragging out this teasing and go straight to what you both have been desiring all evening.
Your lover grumbles in frustration at his vexing belt and pants, pushing the garment down enough to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip angry red and with precum.
You're so pent up with need that he doesn't even need to prep you further, seeing that you spread your folds yourself for him, impatient to have your wish fulfilled at long last. So, doing both of you a favor, he doesn't waste any more time and slides himself in, eyes rolling back at the warmth enveloping him.
"Fuck, so tight darling..." He massages your waist, trying to get you to ease up a little. You feel so fucking good, he fears he won't last at all.
His hips pick up the pace as your moans and pleas grow to a crescendo, your voice like a siren that beckons him to dive head first into this addicting chase for carnal pleasure, enhanced by the love shared between you two.
Sooner than he would have preferred, your lover reaches his peak, head thrown back and hips grinding hard against your behind, his cum filling you to the brim. You can feel your climax coming as well, his orgarsm bringing your own...! Until his cock suddenly slides out of you.
"W-Wha- Why did you-- ah!" Your words are interrupted by two fingers of his intruding your fluttering hole, him putting his weight on your back as he shushes you.
"You didn't think you get what you want so easily, did you love?" His voice is husky in your ear, fingers pushing his release back inside your pussy. "No, no, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to cum now."
You whine in protest, attempting to wiggle your hips to get any sort of friction as you feel the waves of your impending climax waning.
"Please, love, please let me cum, please! It's been so long since I've felt your touch, I need you!"
His breath hitches when he listens to your begging, not expecting the neediness in your tone. It seems like his busy schedule the past few days took a heavier toll on you than he thought. He sighs, his heart is too soft for you to continue his original pay back.
"Alright, you win... But know this is the only time I'll let you off the hook for your little stunt, you hear me?"
You nod your head quickly, thank you's and promises to be a good girl falling easily from your tongue. However, you knew none of what either of you said will remain, you will continue being your teasing little self and he will continue letting your brat behavior slide, because that's the kind of couple you are.
But that's the least of your concerns right now, your mind returning to the foggy state of pleasure as you continue your inappropriate actions in many different surfaces of his bar, adding yet another secret item to your list of things one shouldn't do in the workplace.
thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
red diluc and gallagher banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
#blue.writes: genshin impact#blue.writes: honkai star rail#blue.writes: smut#blue.writes: diluc ragnvindr#blue.writes: gallagher#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc x reader#diluc smut#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail smut#gallagher x reader#gallagher smut#not suitable for minors#minors dni
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the road not taken 05 | myg
part five: new year's eve
Summary: The timer is counting down and it's finally time to confront Yoongi.
<part four
—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc
—rating: +18
—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)
—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️🩹, eventual smut, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!
—words: 12.2k
—a/note: hi friends!!! i know i said i was going to go crazy with the word count but i had to divide the chapter because this part was going to have 25k words otherwise?? anyway!!! i went through ten different mental breakdows while writing this, i doubted myself like fifty times, but i enjoyed writing it sososo much, i hope you enjoy reading it as well!! like always, you are invited to discuss this part in the asks, feedback is always welcomed 🤠.
series masterlist | teaser | playlist
Four years ago.
New Year’s eve.
You had lost count of the amount of times Minnie rolled her eyes, groaned or threw her hands in the air in the last two hours, but you were sure it was the same amount of times that you closed your eyes and sighed, trying to remain calm. She was sitting at the desk of your room, finishing her make-up for the New Year’s party as she listened to you list every detail of the last time you saw Yoongi, two days ago.
Minnie, not minding being hyperbolic, openly expressed that she thought that “Yoongi was a psychopath” for inviting to watch When Harry Met Sally, a movie whose main premise were two friends who are in love with each other but do not realize it. Then she proceeded to call him similar things, like he was crazy for grabbing your hand on the way home and borderline insane for not kissing you when he left you at the door of your home. You tried to agree with her, but you were too busy trying to keep your food down, fearing that you might vomit at the thought of confronting Yoongi tonight.
Needless to say, you were nervous. You had promised Minnie that, for your own sake, you would finally tell Yoongi to stop playing games and tell you what he really wanted with you tonight. You invited him to the party, hoping he would turn you down, thinking he probably had better plans with other friends, but he said yes, and now you were obligated to stand up to him.
“This is not my size.” You complained, observing yourself in the mirror as you pulled from the hem of your dress, attempting to cover your butt.
Your friend looked away from the tiny mirror in her hands to scan your body. You turned around, showing her the tiny black dress she let you borrow.
Minnie looked at you like you were joking. “It literally fits you like a glove.” She said, standing up from her seat to take a better look at you.
The dress was fine, it hugged your waist, your hips and every good part of your body, but you were too aware of it, you weren’t used to wearing dresses like this.
“What about my boobs?” You asked, covering up your chest with your hands.
“What about them? They look beautiful!” She exclaimed, and grabbed your hands to out them away.
You laughed “Aren’t they too out?”
“They’re perfectly out.” She responded, taking a good look at them “Like, enough, not too much and not too little, you know? If I had your boobs, I would display them just like that.”
You smiled like that was the biggest compliment a girl could ever hear. “Thank you Minnie.” You said, a little more relieved “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”
“You would be completely lost, I’m telling you.” She said, grabbing her jacket from her bed and her bag “Are we ready to go now?”
You reached for your phone, hoping to find a message from Yoongi saying that he was already here but it was not necessary, a second later you heard the motor of his car being parked in front of your house.
“That’s him.” You informed your friend, making her jump in her place like a little kid.
“Fine, let’s waste no time.”
You grabbed your jacket, already knowing it would be of no use in the freezing cold of the night, and left your house to meet Yoongi.
When you closed the door, you heard Minnie let out a little gasp, which made you look up at her.
"What?" you asked her, feeling her elbow dig into your ribs as she pointed at the sidewalk with her chin.
You turned around, meeting the sight of Yoongi, casually leaned over his car as he waited for you in the dark night. He was wearing his long black coat with his signature shirt, this time in black, his hair was slightly messy, the way you’ve always liked, and when he caught the first glimpse of your face he smiled, waving at you.
“Oh, my…” Minnie sighed, bringing her hand up to her face, fanning herself. “Is that the man who’s taking you home tonight?”
"Shut up," You muttered through gritted teeth, waving back at Yoongi.
“Is your mom coming home tonight, sweetheart?” She kept going “If I were you, I would tell her to stay somewhere else. You know, in case you and your boy…”
“Minnie, he’s gonna hear you.” You warned her, but she just laughed.
Still, in the back of your mind, you considered Minnie’s concern; no, your mom wasn’t coming home tonight, but you didn’t need to be thinking about that at all.
“Looking nice, ladies.” said Yoongi as you were making your way to his car.
“Likewise, gentleman.” Minnie answered “Do we have a resolution for the new year?”
Yoongi smirked, “Yes, we do.”
Your friend clicked her tongue, winking at you both and got into the back seat of Yoongi’s car, leaving the two of you alone.
There was a moment of silence, like he was waiting to hear the sound of the car door closing, and then, he whistled. “You’re all dolled up.” He noted, sneaking his hand under your jacket and grabbing you by your waist over your dress, pulling you closer to him.
“Is that bad?” You frowned, pretended to be annoyed.
“Maybe.” He considered “What if someone tries to steal my date?”
You snorted, softly punching his chest. “Oh, shut up.” You sassed “I can’t get rid of you, I’ve tried already.”
Yoongi bit his bottom lip, failing to hide a smile. “You look very pretty, that’s all I’m saying.”
By now, you’d think you could handle these kinds of comments—his lingering touches, or the way his eyes seemed to silently ask for a kiss—but you couldn’t. Your heart still jumped, your palms still grew sweaty, and your face still burned. Yet, you forced a smile as if you’d heard it a thousand times from countless men, as if he was nothing special.
“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You patted him on the back, pulling away from him to go around the car to the passenger seat.
Yoongi’s gaze trailed over you as he turned to face you across the roof of the car, his eyes following every movement.
“By the way,” He wondered, stopping you before you could open the door “What do you mean that you’ve tried?”
You stopped for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, but you were immediately reminded of your previous comment. How clueless he was, he had no idea the amount of times you tried to exile him from your life with no success, the thought of him always crawled back to you as if he belonged there. Tonight you should be in your bed, or going to some other party to drink your weight in alcohol to try to fulfill the purpose of banishing him from your mind, but, like a thousand times before, you were with him.
You ignored his question, bursting into laughter as you got inside the car.
Yoongi stood there for a moment, hearing the echoes of your laugh across the street, tempted to chase the sound. What a shame, if you hadn't gotten into the car so quickly, you might have seen the stars reflecting in his eyes, the look that only a fool would mistake for anything other than love.
Present
The thing about small towns like yours was that they hardly ever changed—like the park in front of Minnie’s apartment, with its wooden benches and the path of trees leading to the fountain in the center, which had stopped working years ago. The never changing look of your hometown was one of the main things that made you want to leave it behind, it was ridiculous to admit how relieved you were now that everything was still the same as the last time you were here.
You set your bags down on the floor of your friend’s home and gazed out the window, watching the wind drag yellow and orange leaves, swirling them across the street until they crashed against the tall wooden doors of a building you recognized as The Alley. You remembered how, when you were younger, Minnie used to live fifteen minutes from there, but once she became an adult, she jumped at the chance to move directly across the street, staying as close as she could. You figured that people in small towns hardly ever changed either.
There was not much difference between the Minnie you knew when you were a teenager and the Minnie you knew in the present, she was still always at The Alley, except she was the one who called the shots nowadays. Over the years she gained the trust of the owners and now she was in charge of keeping everything in order, helping organize every activity and every area every day of the week, so you frowned when you saw that it was closed, especially in October, which was the most exciting month in The Alley; the Halloween plays, the Halloween movies and the Halloween parties were your favorite part of the year.
“Is The Alley closed?” You asked, turning around to see Minnie as she stuck her head in her fridge trying to look for something to eat. Your friend let you stay at her apartment for as long as you needed; it was the least she could do, considering she always crashed at your place in the city and acted like it was her own whenever she had to work there.
“Uh… yeah. It’s a whole thing.” She sighed. “It has all of us stressed out.”
“Why, what happened?” You walked over to her, sitting on one of the stools of her kitchen.
“The building’s having some issues with its infrastructure for some time now and it’s costing a lot of money.” She explained, grabbing a cup of yogurt and a spoon to place it in front of you as if that were dinner. “We thought it was just a few things, like the electricity and the plumbing, but the more we look into it, the more problems we find.”
Your frown deepened, more confused than before. The Alley had been an old building for years and years, there was always a thing or two that had to be repaired, but you never thought it was that bad. “That’s why it’s closed?” You continued to ask.
“That’s not the only reason. We had three inspections since the beginning of the year and none of them looked any good, we’re suspecting the town council might want to close it.” She rolled her eyes, but you could feel the hurt in her words.
“Close it?” You repeated it, feeling something stung in your chest “Just like that? Is it that bad?”
“Well, yes.” She affirmed, trying to appear composed but the discouragement filled her voice “Unless we fix the whole place, of course, but the repairs cost too much, so it’s going to take some time.”
“That sounds ridiculous, Minnie. What does Sid think?” You inquired. Sid was one of the owners of The Alley and the only one who was active in the community, he trusted Minnie with the management of the place more than anyone else.
“That prick.” She bitterly spat “Don’t even mention him, he’s acting like a jerk lately, he’s too old and too tired of running the place, he’s leaving everything to me. I’m trying to handle it with some other people but it’s too much. That’s why we’re closed, we’re opening just three days a week but that’s slowing down the process of collecting money.”
“Oh, Minnie. That’s horrible.” You lamented “Why am I just finding out about this now? Why didn't you tell me anything?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” She tried to wave off “You were busy and too sad to hear any of my problems, I didn’t want to bother with stupid stuff.”
“What are you talking about?” You said, shaking your head “It’s not stupid, are you nuts? I could never be too busy or sad to hear you. How come you’ve been carrying all of this without telling me?”
The feeling of guilt flooded your chest, filling with regret your whole body. You knew you were being a bad sister and a bad daughter, but you didn’t realize you were being a bad friend as well. If closing The Alley sounded horrible to you, you couldn’t imagine how bad must’ve felt for Minnie, who had dedicated most of her life to the place.”
“I mean it, baby, you don’t have to feel bad.” She assured you, squeezing your hand “My head’s been a mess lately, I was going to tell you eventually.”
“But it’s not okay, Minnie.” You insisted. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling, I mean, The Alley is your whole life, there has to be another way.”
“Yes, that’s what I keep telling myself, there has to be another way! And I’m trying to think of one, but when I think I’m close to finding a solution, my head starts to smoke.” She huffed.
You felt your heart clenching, Minnie was always trying to see the good side of things, you’ve never seen her so let down about something, especially something she cared about deeply. You both went silent, processing all the information for a minute. You wished you could do something, not only for your friend, but for the place where you had grown up, you couldn’t phantom the idea of The Alley disappearing, it was home of so many outcasts, it was your home for most of your teenage years, you felt like part of you was still on those walls.
“Have you thought about talking with a lawyer?” You asked, like some lightbulb lighted up above your head. “You know, I can talk with my brother if you’d like, he could help you save time.”
Minnie’s expression suddenly changed, she raised her eyebrows and slightly opened her mouth in surprise, but it wasn’t because of your offering, it was for something else, you just didn’t know what.
“Oh, no, honey. Don’t worry, it’s not necessary.” She rushed to say.
“How come it is not necessary?” You questioned. “Minnie, a lawyer is essential for this kind of stuff. I’m sure that Simon could give you some advice, if the situation is not good he could arrange a meeting with the council or something like that.”
You could see her doubting, the hesitating look on her face, looking at her hands as she tried to say something but couldn’t.
“You know that money is not a problem, I could talk to him about it.” You insisted, assuming that money was the reason for her doubt, she already said that they were struggling with the repair, you assumed that hiring a lawyer was too expensive to even consider.
Minnie pursed her lips, “It’s not about the money, actually.” She said, looking away from you. “And thank you, baby, it’s just that… uhm, we already consulted a lawyer.”
You sat straight in your chair “Oh, really?” You uttered, surprised. “What did they say?”
Your friend stood up from her seat, wandering around the kitchen while looking for something in the cabinets “He’s going through the documents for now, handling the legal stuff.” She trailed off, and you felt she was leaving something out. No, you didn’t understand a thing about law, but you could use a bit more information about the situation.
“How did you meet him?” You asked, curious. “Do you know if he’s any good? You know, I don’t trust lawyers.”
Your comment meant to be a joke, but the girl in front of you didn’t seem to catch it. Her tone suddenly changed “The only reason we have a lawyer is because it is a voluntary thing, so we don’t have to pay him. Otherwise, we would be lost, we couldn’t possibly afford a lawyer.” She went on, avoiding your question.
“A voluntary thing? You mean he is doing it for free?” You frowned, dismissing the fact that she didn’t answer what you asked, or even laughed at your attempt at a joke. “Why?”
“He’s from… here and really likes the place, I guess.”
“He’s from here and really likes the place?” You repeated, confused, you didn’t know many lawyers, but you were sure that was not reason enough to work for free. Minnie just hummed, not caring much to explain. “Do I know him?” The question resonated in the room, followed by a dead silence. As your friend pretended to be busy, taking the glasses out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their place, your words hung in the air, unanswered. “Minnie?”
“Yes?” You heard her voice.
“Who is he?” You asked again, but your gut told you that you already had an answer for that.
She turned back, looking at you with a warning look. “If I tell you, are you going to be mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?” You questioned, already feeling upset. You knew way too many reasons to be mad at that question.
“I’m not telling you, then.” She said, taking your answer as a yes.
“If you don’t tell me who you hired as a lawyer, I will start screaming.” You threatened like a little kid, pointing at her with the spoon as if it were a gun.
“Okay, no need to scream.” She tried to persuade you.
“Minnie…”
“I’ll tell you, but you must know that it wasn’t my decision alone.” Minnie took a step back from you, with her hands in the air. “And that I would have never said yes if we had to pay him, we barely have any money! How could I say no? Besides, he helps on the weekends with the repairs, he’s great with plumbing and everyone likes him, the guys adore him, the girls love him, everyone had already agreed before I could say a word, you understand-?
“Minnie!” You stopped her, waving your hands in the air “You are rambling, what are you saying?”
The redhead in front of you took a deep breath, composing herself. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She breathed out “It’s just that Yoongi offered to advise us for free, and then he went on to…-”
The name ringed in your ears the same way it did when you mother mentioned the dinner the other night, the same way it did when you brother couldn’t stop mentioning his name the night you stayed at his house, the same way his voice interrupted the silence when he came looking for you in your mother’s backyard, only this time it came from your best friend’s mouth.
“Yoongi!?” You suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “What do you mean by Yoongi!?”
Minnie took another step back, afraid that you would use the spoon in your hand to take her eyes out.
“God, don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded, with her hands clasped together and her fingers intertwined as if she was begging for forgiveness.
You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head in disbelief. One thing was not to tell you of the fact that the town wanted to close The Alley because she was stressed and too tired to talk about it, and a completely different thing was not telling you that Yoongi, the only man who ever broke your heart, was involved, trying to ignore the fact that it was the place where you grew up. You couldn’t believe your friend didn’t tell you that Yoongi was trying to help to save the place that was directly connected to you and him.
“Is that why you didn’t tell me?”
“No, that was not the reason.” She tried to deny, but the second you raised an eyebrow, she backtracked “I mean, not at first, but I was telling the truth!”
“Half the truth!” You accused her.
“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands in the air, resigned. “Half the truth, I admit it.”
“But why?” You insisted.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart” She cried “ I don’t know… I was afraid you wouldn’t like the idea of him being involved in it.”
“I mean, it doesn’t sound thrilling, but I would want to know that it was happening, I don’t care if Yoongi was helping you with it.”
“I know, I know…” She trailed off, but there was still something she was keeping from you. Her gaze was fixed on her hands, she didn’t dare to look you in the eye. “It’s just…”
“What?” You kept asking “C’mon, Minnie… You don’t seriously think I’m still hurt by it, do you?”
The words came out of your mouth afraid to sound unsure, and the look she gave you finished to confirm it.
“Well, no-”
“Are you kidding? It’s been years, how could you think I’m still resentful?”
She raised an eyebrow the same way you did a second ago to accuse her, wondering if you were joking or not. “Don’t play dumb with me, you hate his guts.”
“I don’t hate his guts.” You scoffed, doing a very bad job at lying. In front of you there was the same woman who saw you crying for Yoongi all those years ago, the only person who you could talk shit about him with, you couldn’t pretend you were suddenly the most forgiving person when she was the only one who knew how much he hurt you.
Minnie laughed, making it clear that she didn’t believe you one word. “Yeah, sure.”
“Okay, maybe I still hate his guts.” You conceded “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tolerate him.”
You could feel Minnie’s eyes scanning every feature of your face, you could feel the weight of her doubt in the air. How could you convince her that you weren’t annoyed by Yoongi helping her when you didn’t even know the answer yourself? “Is that right?” She said, taking a step closer to you. You just nodded, but you didn’t know if that was even true. “So you wouldn’t mind, let’s say, being in the same room as him?”
“Of course not.” You replied right away, trying to appear confident. “Wasn’t I in the same room as him just a few days ago?”
“Yes, you were, you’re right.” She acknowledged “In that case, let’s say I believe you.”
“Yes, because I’m telling the truth.” You said in the same condescending tone she was using.
“And let’s say that I believe that you are more than capable of putting aside everything that happened between you and Yoongi just for the sake of The Alley.”
“That’s right.” You nodded, with your arms crossed over your chest.
“And if I were to ask you to help me with The Alley because you’re famous and you would help us raise a bunch of money, would you say yes even if Yoongi is there, helping too?”
You scoffed, a nervous laugh escaped you, thinking she was joking. But as you scanned her face for even the slightest hint of jest, a cold realization settled in your gut—she was completely serious.
“You have to call my agent for that kind of stuff, you know that?” You tried to joke, but she was not backing down.
“I’m not joking!” She pleaded “I was planning to ask you for a long time, but I didn’t know that you would want to do it since Yoongi is always around, but if you’re telling me you don’t care about him…”
You close your eyes shut. “It’s not only Yoongi- I mean, it’s not about him at all” You corrected yourself “I would love to help The Alley in all the ways I can, but I’m not sure if I want to play the superstar role right now.”
She nodded, immediately understanding “It’s fine, I get it, but I’m not asking you to play the superstar role, I’m asking you to be the girl I knew all my life, the one who’s passionate about theater and loves The Alley as much as me.”
A genuine smile spread across your face, feeling a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. “And the girl who’s also famous and would help you raise a bunch of money?”
She scoffed, “Well, you happen to be all of that too, isn’t that great?” You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Look, I’m not saying that you should say yes right now, but you should at least go with me this friday and I can show you some of my ideas, what do you say?”
Friday was just four days away, that was not enough time for you to decide anything, but because you loved Minnie, and you loved The Alley, and honestly, because you didn’t have anything better to do, you agreed to think about it, only for now. “Fine, Friday it is.”
Four years ago.
New Year’s eve.
The last night of the year always felt as if something was about to change, even if it never did. You clung to that feeling of hope, as if time were real, as if the sun and the stars ruled your life and you weren’t the only one capable of controlling it, at least that way you weren’t able to blame yourself for feeling like something was missing when you came home at six in the morning, drunk and hopeless.
Change, future, and love were becoming curse words in your vocabulary, and if you saw a shooting star tonight, you would wish to forget any meaning you had ever learned about them. But if you stood in the street tonight, shaking in the cold winter air as you looked up at the dark sky, waiting for someone to give you all the answers, you feared your life would be wasted. Your life wasn’t ruled by the stars, it was ruled by you, it was about time for you to realize.
Tonight you didn’t need the universe to tell you what to do, what you needed was a drink or two to gather the courage to confront Yoongi, but the second you entered the silver room with the silver lights, you heard some sappy song from the 2000’s and for a second you almost forgot about his hands holding yours, or perhaps you were just desperately trying to.
“C’mon,” He called you, grabbing your hand to walk you to the dance floor “you must dance! Or they’ll kick you out.”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, but followed him as he made his way through the sea of people to reach the center of the dance floor. The room was packed, it smelled like cigarettes, weed and perfume mixed together, there was a huge contrast between the cold weather outside and the heavy and humid air from inside. Minnie was lost somewhere else, she was part of the committee that organized the party and wanted to check that everything was exactly as she planned it, so you and Yoongi were now alone, again.
Time spent with Minnie had a way of dissolving the anxieties that once clung to you when you first visited The Alley after coming home, you were no longer afraid of being recognized, in fact, when you came here the other day to watch When Harry Met Sally and some old friends recognized you, you didn’t try to run away, you took a second to hug them and catch up, you were also surprised to find out that none of them hated you like your imagination made you believe they did. Turns out, people grow up and grow apart and there was nothing bad with that. It was always a desire of yours to run away from this town, but only if you could make sure that you could return to The Alley anytime you wanted, it was a relief to know that now you could.
You had missed it, the parties, the music, the ten disco balls on the ceiling and those moments where the room was so dark no one could see how badly you were dancing, except those few lights that were were still shining in your eyes the same way your dress did every time Yoongi twirled you around. He didn’t miss any of that, he was paying attention, he observed your eyes, your nose, your lips, the way the straps of your dress rested gently on your collarbones, your body and your waist, his hands on your hips, how he couldn’t keep them away from you and how you wished you could just ignore it.
Yoongi was not shy, he was never shy when you were alone and tonight, even if you were in a room full with people, it felt like you were. He was dancing like you were the only one watching him, he laughed, he winked at you and drew you closer to him to whisper things in your ear in the middle of songs. You danced in the only way you knew: shamelessly, and when Yoongi said he needed some air you promised him to go outside with him for a moment, you were sweaty, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you knew you needed to check your lipstick in a mirror, but only after finishing dancing to Rock ‘N’ Roll Star by Oasis.
If there was a way in the universe that could stop the turmoil of your mind, that would be dancing, and it was working like a charm.
When the song was about to end, you began making your way out of the dance floor, but you immediately changed your mind when you heard the first chords of Sex on Fire blasting from the speakers. You stopped in your tracks, yanking Yoongi’s hand and making his body crash into yours.
“Stop!” You yelled “We can’t not dance to this song.”
“Pinky…” He whined, trying to complain, but you were already beginning to walk backwards, intertwining your fingers with his.
“You have to dance with me!” You insisted “You know this one!”
His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, the kind that could only promise trouble.
How lucky you were that Minnie wasn’t around. If she had seen the way you were looking at Yoongi at that moment, she would have slapped you in the face to snap you out of it. You were aware that you had an initial plan and that you weren’t anywhere near to pulling it off, you were aware that you were running off of excuses and that time wasn’t going to be on your side for much longer, but was it too much to ask for a few more moments like this? Those glimpses of something else, those evanescent instants where you didn’t have to wonder why you were dancing to this song with someone who was supposed to be your friend, with his lips threatening to brush with yours, his fingertips on your back, and his gaze fixed on you. You could hear your heart begging you to kiss him and your mind pleading you not to, but the only thing you understood was the way Yoongi sang each word to your face, so close you could explode.
You giggled and jumped to the rhythm of the song and sang back, forgetting all the words you practiced with Minnie, and all the things Minnie said and all the things you promised to do tonight. If you were to put an end to this now, you could at least have this moment.
“What is that?” Yoongi asked, observing you approaching him with a drink in your hands.
Going back to your own words, you hadn’t had much to drink tonight, you were too busy dancing or maybe it was the unbearable knot in your stomach that didn’t allow you to even think of alcohol before ending up throwing up. Ultimately, you decided to stay sober, this was only your second drink of the night and it was offered by Minnie, who you just encountered at the bar a few minutes ago. She yelled at the bartender, ordering a drink for both you and Yoongi. With a wink, she added two straws to the cup and playfully nudged you back towards the dance floor.
“It’s sex on the beach.” You mumbled without making eye contact with him. At least no one could say Minnie wasn’t funny. “A present from Minnie.”
“Two straws?” Yoongi said, leaning forward to sip the drink through one of the straws. “Isn’t she a matchmaker?”
Well, he had no idea.
“Buddy, if you want another drink you should buy it yourself.” You scoffed, drinking from the other straw. “You are the one who’s been drinking water the whole night.”
“I have plenty of things that I need to do tonight, I have to be sober.”
“Plenty of things?” You questioned “Like what?”
You joined Yoongi as he leaned against the wall, holding the cup between the two of you.
“Like driving you home.” He replied “What would Lila say about me if I show up drunk.”
“You never get drunk. You have the highest tolerance.” You laughed. “And even if you did, my mom would say that I was the one who got you drunk.”
“And maybe it would be true,” he snarked, leaning in with a playful grin, his lips brushing close to your ear. “I would tell her that you forced me to dance so much that the only way I could keep up was by drinking all the beer from the bar.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” you huffed, digging your elbow into his ribs to push him away. “But I bet she would believe anything you say.”
Yoongi smiled, cocky “I bet she would, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of the drink before feeling your throat slightly burning. “What’s up with the slow music?”
You looked around, seeing a few couples slowly dancing in the middle of the room. The lights were red and Fade Into You by Mazzy Star was playing softly, the dance floor was less packed, you thought it could only mean it was about to be midnight.
You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist to draw it closer to your face so you could check the hour on his watch. “It’s about to be midnight.” You announced. “They start playing love songs before midnight.”
“Why love songs?” He questioned.
“So you can find the person you want to give your first kiss of the year.”
“Isn’t that a bit cheesy?” he teased, tilting his head with a smirk.
“Of course it is.” You said, chucking “That’s the point.”
Yoongi nodded and set his cup down on a nearby table, extending his hand toward you. “Fine, let’s dance then.”
You observed his hand extended to you, a bit hesitant. “You slow dance, too?”
“Tonight I do.” He revealed. You had no other option but to take his hand.
You’ve never been to a New Year’s party at The Alley, but since Minnie was heavily involved in the preparations you knew a thing or two about how it went down. When the lights turned yellow and Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer suddenly began playing, you knew you were just a few minutes away from the New Year.
You had never been much of a slow dancer, so you were not sure what to do, but Yoongi seemed to have no problem with it, he led the way without making you look pathetic. You knew he had more experience with romantic scenarios than you, and even if you’d had your share of romantic relationships, it all went down to boring boyfriends, bad boyfriends, and boys who didn’t want to be your boyfriend at all. As he laid his hands on your waist and his soft gaze upon you, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a romantic moment at all—nothing had ever been as close as this.
“So… did you have fun?” You asked him, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself steady.
“I am having fun.” He emphasized, “Why are you asking as if the night is already ending?”
“I don’t know.” You said, a playful glint in your eyes. “I guess because... I always get the feeling that you’re about to slip away.”
He raised an eyebrow, moving slowly to the rhythm, pulling you with him. “Slip away?” he wondered.
“Oh, you know, you’re the kind of guy who slips away.” You smiled softly, enjoying the look of confusion on his face.
“I don’t know what that means.” He laughed.
“I mean… the guy who people always expect but always leaves early.” You tried to explain, but that didn’t do much for Yoongi’s understanding.
“Do you think I always leave early?” He inquired, making you laugh.
“You leave early sometimes.” You confirmed “Most times.”
“Well, I don’t quite enjoy parties.” He confessed, but you already knew that. When you were younger, you always followed Simon to parties. He tried so hard not to get annoyed at his little sister; annoying him was supposed to be your job. And as fun as it sounded, you were never really there for Simon, but to catch a glimpse of his best friend. Of course you soon learned that hanging out with Yoongi at your house was much more entertaining than observing him flirting with the prettiest girl of the party just to watch him leave with her an hour later. If you ever found Yoongi at a party, it was most likely because Simon dragged him to it, you guessed you weren’t so different from your brother.
“What about this one?” You teased him “Are you leaving this party early?”
“Mmm, no.” He shook his head “I won’t be disappearing tonight.”
“Is that so?” You asked, and he nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “What’s different tonight?”
For an instant, Yoongi's gaze drifted around the room, as though searching for a reason to stay, before finally settling back on you.
“You, maybe.” He asserted calmly, his voice steady.
You laughed nervously, feeling your chest tighten. “What about me?”
“Nothing, you look really pretty.” He simply said. “I wouldn’t leave a party if you’re looking this pretty.”
Your breath got caught in your throat “Yoongi…” you whispered, but he could hear your voice just right.
“Hmm?” He hummed.
“Stop that…” Your voice came out weak as you placed a hand on his chest, attempting to create some distance between your body and his. Yet, with his hand resting on your lower back, he gently drew you closer once again.
“Stop what?” he dared to ask,
That—this, whatever you had going on, whatever was happening between you and him—had gotten to a point of no return. All the cards seemed to be on the table, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to it. Yes, you could see it, you could feel it, but you were still afraid.
“Nothing, never mind,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
“C’mon, tell me,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek with one hand. A teasing smirk danced on his lips, making you want to punch him, but the hand you meant to push him away with gradually glided down his chest instead.
“That thing you’ve been doing.” You murmured, tilting your head to lean into his touch.
“What?” He scoffed, “What thing I’ve been doing?”
“Exactly that.” You pointed out. “Stop playing dumb with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a mocking tone on his voice.
You slightly punch his chest with your fist “That, too.” You pouted, feeling his thumb grazing over your jaw. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, stop that.”
“Am I doing that?” He smirked, the amusement in his eyes clear as he watched for your reaction. “How exactly?”
“Don’t piss me off…” You threatened, as if your threats had any value when you were wrapped in his arms, when your voice sounded so weak.
“You’re incredible, really.” He said “Aren’t you the one who’s trying to drive me crazy?”
You blinked, clearly not grasping the situation.
“What are you talking about?” You demanded to know.
Yoongi bit his lip, holding back a smile “Pinky…” He said like it was obvious, but everything was a blur, a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you.
“Yoongi…” You spoke in the same tone as him.
“What? Am I insane or am I just imagining you pulling me in just to push me away later?” His words didn’t sound harsh, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice. You couldn’t help but frown deeply, bewildered.
“Are you serious? I’m not doing that.” You said, feeling your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The truth was that you weren’t even sure if you were doing that or not, but you were not willing to admit it. “You’re the one playing games with me.”
He chuckled, shaking his head in denial “I’m not playing any games with you.”
“Really?” You snickered, bitterly, but he was quick to deny it. “Not one?”
“No, not one.” He assured you, confidently.
“Yeah, sure.”
“What games am I playing, you say?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” You tried to dismiss it, too embarrassed to say it out loud.
“You are not being very communicative with me, Pinky.”
You scrunched your nose, it was only a matter of time for him to start annoying you “You…-”
“I?...”
You rolled your eyes. “You know what you did.”
“I actually, no, I don’t know what I did.” He jested.
“Yoongi, you tried to kiss me!” You blurted out, your words tumbling over each other. “Before Christmas, you tried to kiss me and a second later you acted like nothing happened.”
“No-” He tried to defend himself, but you were quick to interrupt him.
“Yes! You acted like I imagined everything.” You kept accusing, “You keep leaving me stranded, wondering if I just went mad!”
You felt your heart racing with each word you spoke, but Yoongi was unphased, completely calm, you could even see a glimpse of amusement sparkling in his eyes.
“Pinky, I did want to kiss you.” He admitted with a tranquil smile, as if sharing a simple truth “You weren’t imagining it, I wanted to kiss you so many times, I still do.”
It was like someone was playing a bad joke on you; the proximity of his face, the weight of his words, his gentle touch all over your body, it only made your breath hitch, your heart skip a beat, you felt like you were floating in the air in a different dimension, because this could not be real. It was like a force of habit, you couldn’t believe something good was happening to you even if it was right in front of your face.
“Then, why didn’t you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, surprised that you had mustered the courage to wonder that out loud. “Why didn’t you come looking for me after?”
“I always come back to you, are you kidding?” he replied, chuckling softly, though his gaze held an unexpected seriousness. “But you looked horrified, that day in your grandmother’s house you stormed out, you ran away, what was I supposed to do?”
You couldn’t recall that day without feeling a chill running down your whole body. The sole memory of your bodies pressing against each other, his deep voice, his dark eyes and the embarrassing moment when you had to open the door to find your mother standing there was enough to keep you awake at night. The only option you had was to run away, you thought it was only logical, but now you felt your whole face burning red as Yoongi accused you of running away from him.
“Well, because you…! “ you dug your finger into his chest, exasperatedly trying to find the right words to put on a good fight. “You confuse me!”
“Do I?” He mocked you. “Am I confusing you?”
“Yes, you do!” you argued, ignoring his implications “You say and do all these things, you grab my hand, ask me to run away with you, you try to kiss me and then-“
“And then what?” He snapped, making you swallow your words “And then I give in, don’t I?”
“No!” You protested, squinting your eyes. “You disappear, you come back, you leave, you leave me hanging, you confuse me. How can I know what it is when I don’t know what you want, when it seems that you don’t even know what you want?”
“I’m not trying to confuse you, I know exactly what I want.” He laughed without humor.
“And what’s that?” You demanded, frustration boiling over.
“Pinky, I know that there have been people around you that tried to make you believe that you weren’t good enough, but that it’s simply not me.” He said “I want you, is that so difficult to believe?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a mess. “That’s not- Thats…!” Your words tangled, and now you were barely making any sense.
“That’s the truth, I grab your hand, try to kiss you and when you push me away I come back home just to dream of you all night, convincing myself that I’m not completely insane.” He paused, his gaze locked onto yours, as if begging you to understand.
You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as if that would somehow clear the storm of emotions swirling inside you. His confession was overwhelming, every word sinking into your chest. You felt your head spinning, you couldn’t process all those words, not when your heart was threatening to escape from your chest and his hands were still on your face, demanding you to look at him.
“Because that’s what I’ve been doing since last summer, asking myself if I lost my head” He continued “And, Pinky, that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I have to be okay with it. Because I would rather watch you all night wearing that dress, wishing that I could take it off, than having nothing at all.”
A lump formed in your throat, your breath hitching as you tried to form a response, but no words came. You simply gulped, utterly speechless, trapped between disbelief and the wild beating of your heart.
“Yoongi…” you whined, barely managing to get his name past your lips. The words you needed were nowhere to be found.
And then, in the least convenient moment, the countdown started, the room filling with the sound of people shouting numbers.
He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “What? What should I do, hm?” His lips grazed over yours, so soft that it felt like a question in itself.
“I can’t handle this,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to steady yourself. “This is too much. I can’t.”
He paused, his eyes searching yours, and then, as if trying to make sense of the situation, he asked softly, “Should I turn around and leave?”
You shook your head, quickly, repeatedly, without a second thought.
“Tell me, then.” He pressed, his voice almost a plea.
Still caught in the hazy blur of the moment, you could hear the countdown approaching its end, yet he still hadn’t pulled away. It felt as if you were under a spell, frozen in place, unable to move. You were breathing heavily, overwhelmed by the lights and the music and the people chanting, overwhelmed by his words, his body and his gaze fixed on your lips. The fleeting feeling that you were dreaming hit you for a second, but when everyone around you started counting four, that thought quickly vanishedYou heard three, and the realization that he was waiting for your response hit you like a bolt of lightning. You heard two and you got the feeling that if you didn’t do anything about it now, you wouldn’t do anything about it ever, you heard one and, against every rational thought, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him.
It was not a soft kiss, it was rushed, rough and messy. You closed your fists around his shirt, pulling him closer as he opened his mouth to search for your tongue in desperation, the way his fingers gripped your hips burned right through your clothes, driving you to the edge. You could hear people yelling and laughing, you could hear the fireworks outside, the song that started right after the countdown, but you were completely absorbed by him, by his lips, by the way he held you, no one had ever kissed you with such determination, with such dedication.
You had spent years dreaming about kissing Yoongi, but you never thought it would be like this—like your lips fitted just right with each other, as if in this universe he was made only for you. The moment was electric, igniting a fire deep within you, and all the doubts and fears that had held you back melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the sweetness of his breath against your skin.
His feet carried him to the nearest wall, dragging you along until he pinned you against it, never breaking the kiss. For a fleeting moment, he pulled back to catch his breath, his gaze lingering on your lips before he devoured them once more. His hands traveled down your back, tempted to listen to his thoughts, to touch your body in the way he really wanted.
You laid your hand on his chest, gently pulling away “Is this what you wanted?” You whispered, excitement filling your voice.
His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Not even close,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement.
There were only so many ways you could imagine the night ending, that was what you thought before leaving your house earlier tonight. If you were lucky enough, you would’ve come back home in one piece, sober and with your heart intact, that would’ve meant that you didn’t dare to take any risks, you would've let the night finish its course without rushing it, finally accepting that you were a coward. If you were unlucky, you would’ve come home crying, drunk and with your heart shattered; that would’ve meant that you did take risks, but the universe simply wasn’t ready to take your side yet. You could’ve laid in bed and fantasized all you wanted, but none of those scenarios would’ve ever looked like this one.
As Yoongi opened the door of the entrance of his building, you caught a glimpse of the hour in the watch on his wrist. It took him half an hour and more than a few kisses to ask you to leave the party with him, two minutes to pick your jackets from the cloakroom, and only five minutes to drive to his apartment, and yet it felt like the longest car ride of your life. You thought that after twenty one years of life of never getting what you wanted, the universe should at least grant you the wish to skip the car ride to Yoongi’s apartment, because you had never felt so much tension before. You sank in the passenger seat and tried to avoid his gaze as much as possible, the mere thought of being alone with Yoongi was starting to give you goosebumps; the seat belt and the fact that he had to keep both hands on the steering wheel were the only things that were keeping him away from you.
The scenario was displayed right in front of you; he opened the door, letting you inside first and walking to the elevator with a cheeky smirk on his face. It wasn’t in your plans to leave less than an hour into the new year, and yet you were there, following the person you tried to forget so many times into his apartment, feeling like a handful of nerves.
You observed him opening the doors of the old elevator and then ran to get inside before him, crashing your back against the wall so it could keep you as far away from him as possible. You still didn’t understand what the fuck you were doing going into his apartment.
Yoongi got in after you, staring at you like you went mad, and honestly, it kinda felt like you did. You wanted to punch him when he laughed at you as he closed the doors, curiously raising his eyebrows. “Are you running away from me?” He asked, pressing the fourth button on the wall. It only took him one step to be as close to you as he was. You breath hitched, not feeling as confident as you felt when you were surrounded by people. “Still?”
You felt the sudden shift as the elevator ascended to the fourth floor. Yoongi and his mom had always lived in the same old building. The hallway walls were a dull brown, and the elevator had heavy accordion-style metal doors that folded inward and had to be closed manually. When you pressed the button to go up or down, the whole thing shook as if it was about to break down—but it never did. The mirror inside was old and smudged, you caught his reflection in the corner of your eye but you tried to ignore it, his presence alone was making you shiver.
You shook your head, unable to utter another word.
“No?” He kept insisting. He was teasing you, he had been teasing you for the whole night and you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. You were tired of playing nonchalant, you just wanted to kiss him again.
He took a step forward, grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him. His fingers found each other in the small of your back, pressing you against him and taking you by surprise when he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and kissed you deeply. He slowly opened your mouth to slide his tongue past your lips, making it difficult to breathe or to even think.
You grasped his shoulders with your fingers in case he wanted to pull away but there was no need. You weren’t sure how many times you had tried to decipher whether you were caught in a dream or if this was reality, because there was no way Yoongi knew exactly how to kiss you to make every logical thought on your mind disappear, but when the elevator shook again you were pulled out of your trance, you were not dreaming, somehow this was real.
“Who knew this was the only way to get you to shut up.” He murmured, brushing his lips against yours.
“Fuck you.” You whispered, and you hated it because it doesn’t come out as an insult at all.
He chuckled, “Oh, there you are again.”
He took your hand to drag you out of the elevator, leading the way to his apartment door at the end of the dark hallway.
For Yoongi, your house was almost like his second home—but you could count only a couple of times you had been to his, like when your mom picked him up because Simon and he were going to a comic convention for the first time. You were ten, already with the worst attitude, mad that you had to go with your nerd brother and his nerd friend to some nerd convention. But when you arrived at Yoongi’s apartment, he took you to his room and—attempting to change your mood—showed you the keyboard his mom had gotten him for his birthday. You remembered that a few weeks prior, he had told you he was teaching himself how to play, and you asked him if he could learn "Last Night on Earth" by Green Day. That morning, before leaving, he played it for you under one condition: that you stop being mad.
When you walked through the door and saw the living room immersed in complete darkness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he still remembered how to play the song.
“Do you still have the keyboard?” You asked, unsure how to act around him alone. The air felt heaving, and nerves were still fluttering in your stomach. You had never been nervous to be alone with a man ever; it was usually the other way around, but not with him, never with him.
Yoongi smirked, not believing you were thinking about that. “Is that why you’re so quiet? You’re thinking about my old keyboard?”
“You’re pissing me off.” You warned him, digging your finger on his chest, but he’s quick to pull you close to him again, laughing at you. You, who were always so cocky and quick-witted with your insults, now you were standing there, struggling to find a retort. There was no way you were this nervous to be alone with a man you’ve known literally all your life.
“It’s in my room.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over your waist.
You swallowed, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.
“I…” You tried to say, but he was still looking at you the same way he was observing you back in the car, it was probably the same way he had been looking at you during these past weeks, but you couldn’t help but feel it was different. “I didn’t mean that.” You managed to finish your sentence.
He quietly chuckled, shaking his head “You want to see the keyboard. What else could you mean?”
You pressed your lips together, holding back the urge to curse him again. Ignoring your red cheeks, he took your hand before you could say anything back, making his way to his bedroom.
Yoongi’s home hasn’t changed too much, except for the frames on the walls that now had pictures of a much older Yoongi, or when he graduated high school and pictures on family holidays. You took a second to look at them as you walked towards his room but you were distracted when you felt his fingers on your chin, gently turning your face towards him.
“I like that picture.” You pointed at your left, a picture your mom took when both him and Simon graduated. It was Yoongi and Nari, his mom. Yoongi had a fresh cut and some square black glasses that he changed as soon as he got into college. “I was really sad when you left.” You confessed suddenly.
You weren’t intending for your words to carry a touch of sorrow, but they still linger with a hint of sadness in the air.
“Were you?” He murmured and you nodded.
You had always wondered what would have happened if you and Yoongi had grown up at the same time—what if it had been you instead of Simon? You wouldn't have had to see them leave together; you wouldn't have felt so disappointed when they came to visit every other weekend. Maybe you would’ve grown up less angry. You came to accept what you had, Yoongi was there for every important moment of you life; he taught you how to drive, helped you pass your math tests, he was the one who talked you out of your relationship with your asshole ex boyfriend, he was there for your graduation, to send you off to college, he was everywhere but you, on the other hand, were just a tiny piece of his life.
He cupped your face, chasing away all those swirling thoughts as he kissed your lips softly. He walked backwards, guiding you into his room while deepening the kiss. As the door closed behind you, a quiet certainty settled in your heart: your past had led you to this moment.
You sighed, feeling the ghost of his lips when he pulled away to search for something.
The dim light of the lamp next to Yoongi’s bed didn’t do much to illuminate the room, but provided enough lighting to observe how much it changed since the last time you were there. It didn’t look like the room of a teenager anymore, most of the posters were no longer there and the action figures were replaced by books now, but his keyboard was still folded next to his closet.
Yoongi grabbed it and carefully put it at the feet of his bed. He sat on the edge, inviting you to sit between his legs.
You narrowed your eyes at him, hesitating. “You…”
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, tugging at your hand and guiding you to sit on his lap, your back against his chest as you faced the keyboard.
And, by the way, have you mentioned how nervous you were? You took a deep breath, dreaming, hoping, wishing he wouldn’t notice, but you were a fool if you thought Yoongi couldn’t read you like the palm of his hand.
“Do you do this with all the girls?” You dared to ask, but the truth was that you didn’t want to know the answer.
He kissed your exposed shoulder, resting his chin on it. “C’mon, you’re the one who asked to see the keyboard.”
You turned your head to him, a bit offended. “Is that a yes?”
“That was a no.” He retracted himself, he knew you well enough to know that he shouldn’t play with you unless he wanted to see you walk through the door. “What about the keyboard?”
You decided to ignore the swift change of topic. “Do you still remember how to play?” You asked, touching the keys and jumping a bit when it sounded a bit too loud.
“I’m a bit rusty, but sure I do.”
“Do you remember when… I asked you to learn a song?”
“Yes, I remember that,” He said, chuckling. “I also remember that the day I played it for you you were really pissed because your mom couldn’t find a nanny and had to hang out with me and Simon. You called me a nerd, very cruel.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. “God, I was such a terrible kid back then.”
“Well, yes, maybe.” He admitted “But you were also a really cool kid. You made us listen to My Chemical Romance the whole ride. I remember that your mom hated it, but it was the only thing that could keep you happy.”
You bursted out a laugh, remembering how big of a fan you were of My Chemical Romance, you still were. Your mom thought you were too young to be listening to that, but Simon bought you their second record for your birthday and she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she had no other option but to let you keep it.
“I don’t know how my mom put up with me,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “It probably drove her crazy.”
“Mmm, you always had that effect on people,” he teased, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “In both good and bad ways.”
“Is that really the impression I leave on you?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully. He hummed thoughtfully, admitting it without hesitation. “And in what way is it for you?”
“In both ways,” He replied, his tone light and teasing.
You bit your lips, trying to hold back a smile. “You’re so whipped, it’s ridiculous.” You said “I wanted you to play the keyboard but I rather hear you compliment how cool I am.”
“Oh, shut up.” He huffed, gently slapping your thigh “What did you want me to play, again?”
“The song I told you!” You reminded him.
“Oh, right!” He laughed, “I remember it, it was easy to learn.” He said and began to play the first chords “It reminds me of you, how could it not?” You smiled, watching his long fingers make the room full with music, you sang the song in your head, being hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. “I want you to play it with me.”
You frowned “But I don’t know how.”
“I know, dummy.” He replied, grinning as he halted the music and pulled his fingers away from the keys. “Like this, see?” He gently took your hands, aligning your fingers with his, his palms covering the tops of yours as he began to play.
You laughed, fully aware it sounded awful—nothing like when he played solo—but your heart had never felt so at ease. His laughter danced through your hair, his body shaking beneath you, and you lost track of when the sound might end, as if it were a never-ending loop. All you wished was for it to last forever.
After two minutes, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing the song to a halt. “You’re good with the keys,” he joked. “Not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. It felt a bit strange to be so close, but when his hands glided up and down your exposed thighs, and he looked into your star-filled eyes in the dim light, it suddenly felt just right.
His eyes were shining under the dim lights, biting his lips as he grasped your hips to keep you in place.
“What?” You asked.
“Nothing, it’s just…” He said, somehow pulling you closer “I missed you while I was gone, that’s all.”
How much? you wanted to ask him, and when, for how long? And why? You wanted to know everything, to dive into the turmoil of his mind, to see yourself through his eyes.
You wanted to make an effort to hide how easily you melted when it came to him, but then again, why hide it? If you had the chance to grab his face and kiss him, that was exactly what you should do, and that was exactly what you did.
Your tights hugged his waist, and you tried not to flinch when his hands gripped your waist, slowly running his palms down the curve of your ass. He kissed you slowly, fingers tracing the line of your jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow and intoxicating. Each movement was controlled, filled with intent, as though he was savoring every second, every breath you shared. The warmth of his lips, the soft hum of desire between you, built gradually. His fingers teased their way under your dress, but they stopped there for a moment, as if he was playing with you. He pulled away, leaving a peck on your lips. “You aren’t so shy anymore.” He teased you, brushing his nose against yours.
“You’re so annoying,” you squinted your eyes at him.
He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “And…” his lips moved to your jaw, “…you are…” then to the curve of your neck, “…so pretty.” Taking advantage of how lost you were in the moment, he gently flipped you over, positioning himself between your legs, now hovering above you.
Yoongi sighed, feeling completely defeated. He, more than anyone, knew how beautiful you were: you were beautiful in the mornings, with messy hair and sleepy eyes; when you wore mismatched socks and a hoodie; in your pajamas; when you stumbled over your words,when you were shy and flustered, when you were angry and looked you were about to kill someone. Even if you hid in crowded rooms and always sat in the back of the class you couldn’t hide it, you had grown up beautiful, but specifically tonight you seemed to have stars in your eyes. All your makeup was smudged, half of the product of your lipstick was on Yoongi’s face and the dark shadow in your eyes was a mess, but he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
“You have the prettiest eyes, you know that?”
You felt your cheeks flush, heat creeping up your neck. “Are you trying to make me nervous?” You asked.
He kissed your lips before answering “Why, is it working?”
You shook your head in denial, lying shamelessly. You ran your hands from his abdomen to his chest, not knowing what to do next. Your mind and heart were racing, if you thought twice about it you didn’t even know what you were doing there, laying under him as he caressed your thighs, as he kissed your neck, as he pressed his body firmly against yours.
“Can you tell me something?” You whispered.
He gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “What is this?”
“What was that thing you said about last summer?” You asked “What did you mean?”
Those words were still ringing in your mind since you heard them; that's what I’ve been doing since last summer. You wanted to know what he was talking about, but instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. “C’mon, tell me…” you chuckled.
“I was not supposed to say that out loud.”
“Why?” You insisted “Are you embarrassed?”
“I’m not embarrassed.” He firmly said “But there’s some things I should keep to myself.”
You rolled your eyes “Yoongi, tell me now…”
“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” He said, surrendering to your tactics, which consisted only of a warning glance. “Last summer we spent some time together, some time with Simon, some time alone, but always together. I began to see you differently, you were different, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.”
“Why were you feeling guilty?” You cautiously asked.
He stopped for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Mmm… I felt I wasn’t supposed to look at you differently.”
You tilted your head, curious. “Exactly how different?”
“Well, different,” he repeated, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“What was it?” You frowned “Was it my eyebrows? I laminated my eyebrows for the first time last summer. Everyone said I looked prettier.”
Yoongi shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. How could you think it was your eyebrows?
“It wasn’t your eyebrows, but they suit you nicely.” He complimented, making you smile.
“Well, thanks.” You happily said “But then, what was it? I don’t remember being particularly diff-”
“It was your bikini, Pinky,” he interrupted, his confession coming out suddenly. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words. You blinked a few times, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he looked serious—almost too serious. “There was this weekend where you were wearing a bikini with strawberries on it and… I gave you more than a few looks and felt like I was beginning to go crazy…” His expression remained sincere, almost thoughtful.. “I thought it would go away, you are a pretty girl, I supposed it was only logical to feel attracted. But then, I started to dream about you and that made everything worse, but that’s too much information.”
“No, I want to know.” You kept insisting, teasing him “Tell me what you were dreaming about.”
“You don’t want to know.” He brushed it off.
You reached for the buttons of his shirt, with a gentle touch, you unfastened the first button. “But I do want to know.”
Yoongi leaned in, kissing your lips softly as if that could make you forget the topic of conversation, but of course it didn’t, you were still looking at him, eager to know.
“Dreams, Pinky, of you… in that bikini… without a bikini, in my bed.” He said in a soft breath as he swept his palm on his face. He didn’t look embarrassed but you could tell he would rather not share that information. A single flashback of one of those dreams was enough to drive him to the edge. He thought that after leaving they would stop, but you keep appearing in the back of his mind like some kind demon, sent to earth just to torture him. You weren’t embarrassed either, you wished he could tell you more. “And the worst part is—that wasn’t all. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just say that I’m only a man, and trust that at some point my dreams would stop. But even outside my dreams, you were still there, and you were funny and smart and you seemed to be the solution to all my problems. I don’t know, I keep wondering if I was nuts.”
You could only gaze at him, with your eyes wide and soft, absorbing every word. You had spent the whole summer with Yoongi and yet, you haven’t noticed his change at all. Yoongi wasn’t like other boys, he was composed, he knew how to controll himself, but you found yourself wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t. You bit your lip, smiling. “And what about now?” You asked. “Did you come to a conclusion after all?”
“Yeah, a few” He nodded “I think I wasn’t crazy for dreaming of you, but I will be if I don’t take this dress off you.”
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Title: Tonality [5]
Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader
previous Chapter
Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, Genre Typical Violence, Mild Descriptions of Violence, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!
A/N: OMG I’M SO SORRY. this chapter was so hard to write and it kept getting away from me, because i really wanted to pivot hard into some of the main plot points. i really hope you enjoy it, please drop me a comment and let me know even if you didn’t.
“Come.” Your mother’s voice is firm. Her mourning veil just barely outlines the shape of her face, as her lips move beneath the fabric. It billows behind her as she walks down the darkened line of empty pews toward the front of the little chapel, a flickering candle held steady in her gloved hand.
Your father is to be buried tomorrow.
You know his grave is already dug—a fresh square cut out of the dark earth next to his father’s. The thought of him alone in the dirt is enough to make your throat tighten, though no tears come. You have cried them all already; a veritable ocean. Even so, your dry eyes ache for lack of them.
“W-wait, mother, I—” You do not want to see it, the vacant thing your father’s soul has left behind. At the end, you could barely recognize him in the fragile body decaying in his sick bed. You catch at her sleeve with numb fingers, lowering your head in shame. “I do not want to see—” Her icy fingers wrap around yours, long and thin, her jagged nails digging into your skin.
“We must each place a stitch upon the shroud.” You wince as she presses the long needle into your stiff hands. “It is our duty.” Only when you accept it does she release you, and for a moment, you see her lips quirk cruelly beneath the veil. You tremble as your mother steps aside, your breath catching as you see the shape of the body on the altar.
Just behind her is your father, his shroud dotted with the shapes of dead flowers and bare trees. It does little to quell the horror you feel to behold him, though, his thin outline visible through the shroud, limbs folded and delicate like a baby bird. You remember what he looked like two nights prior, his rheumy eyes dull and deep set into his skull, skin thin and sallow. He looks small now, too, beneath his shroud, and you find it hard to believe this withered corpse had once been a great mountain of a man. A good man, a strong man, now reduced to the barest scraps of skin and bone.
“Stitch.” Her command fills every inch of space, in the chapel and in your head. And though you want nothing more than to close your eyes and be gone from this place, your body will not obey. You raise the needle.
“Please, mother—”
“Stitch.” Her voice is like iron nails in your skull. Blood drips from your nose, and you taste the warm copper of it on your lips. You pinch a corner of thin fabric between your fingers, and push in the needle, pulling it through until the knot at the end of the thread catches. You lower your hand to the shroud as you sew another stitch, and as you do so, your fingers brush your father’s sunken cheek, and you retch.
You cannot stop—
She will not let you.
You look down at your father’s body with tears in your wide eyes, and as you do, a scream builds in your throat. You pinch his lips together between your forefinger and thumb. Delicately; like you would the hem of your gown for a curtsey— and sew another stitch through the meat of them. He is beginning to rot, now, you can smell it over the cloying scent of incense.
“Mother stop!” Your scream is swallowed by the heavy darkness of the empty chapel. Your mother sighs, her breath curling against your ear.
“How else can we make sure the dead don’t speak?” She threads her fingers through yours as she pulls your hand toward his sunken eyelids. You pinch the stiff flesh between your fingers, holding it taut for the needle.
“Now close his eyes.”
You wake with a start, sitting up in bed as you cover your mouth with one hand, fingers searching for the thick black funeral thread—but of course, you find none. The dream clings to the edges of your vision like spider silk, the taste of decaying things still heavy on the panicked air you draw in. A ra sob wrenches its way out of your throat as you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyes.
Perhaps I am mad, after all.
Ain’t supposed t’see the dead ones. Maybe Madge’s old superstitions had borne fruit in your own mind. You recall the symbol she made with one hand, finger on thumb, finger on thumb, before spitting down into the dirt as you left your father’s burial. She’d shaken her head then, some the silver-gray locs piled on top of her head coming loose. Ain’t supposed t’see them. They stay when you see, them, Lady.
They stay.
“No!” You throw the blankets off of yourself, lurching out of bed and stumbling towards the wash-bowl on the dresser. The thought of that day fills you with the same cold dread you have come to know too well. You’ve little choice in your dreams; the specter of his burial hanging over you like overripe fruit. But here, in waking, in the chill autumn daylight, you have the power to turn your thoughts to other things.
At least, you try to.
The water is shockingly cold, but you are grateful for it, staring down into the porcelain bowl. A knock at the door startles you, and you jump.
“W-who is it?”
“Kassandra, Majesty. Might I come in?”
“Yes,” you sigh. “You may.” You pat worriedly at your swollen eyelids, and you frown at your reflection as the door swings open. Your mother has an effortless sort of beauty, one that needs neither rouge nor powders to enhance—a trait you certainly do not share. Your disturbing, sleepless night is written plainly on your face.
Kassandra sets the tray down in the sitting area, before turning to you with a worried expression.
“Her Majesty hopes you are well,” she says, nervously tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear with dainty fingers. “As you were not at break-fast this morning.”
“I was… I did not sleep well.” You shake your head. “I trust my mother made her displeasure quite clear.” She stifles a laugh. “She’s good at that.”
“She did.” Kassandra gestures to the tray, porridge and an assortment continental fruit cut into bite size pieces. “You should eat, Lady. While it’s hot.” You pick uninterestedly at the porridge until it is mostly gone, along with the tart green grapes and sweet winter melon. At the very least you do feel better for it, or at least, more present—more grounded in this world, not the dream one.
You clear up the remains of your breakfast, piling the dishes neatly back onto the tray. In the armoire, you note that more Rivian style gowns have been hung, your light Redanian dresses folded neatly and shunted off to the shelves on the side. Your mother’s thin excuse makes you wrinkle your nose in distaste as you finger one of the heavy sleeves. “Much too light for these Rivian winters, Dear,” she’d said, patting the neatly folded dresses.
“You won’t need them.”
The truth remains unspoken, but you know it still—she does not want you to need them. You pull a heavy crimson dress from its place and begin to undo the lacing. Kassandra clucks her tongue at you.
“Highness, please. Allow me at least one task.” You roll your eyes in response.
“I believe you are capable of more than dressing me—and that I am more than capable of dressing myself,” you reply. You change into a fresh shift before shrugging into the dress. You twist around to reach for the lacings, but Kassandra shoos your hands away to do them herself.
“You’re doing them wrong.” She chides you gently. “Up for lift, down for compression, my Lady.” Kassandra nods at you in the mirror and then positions your body so that if you crane your neck just a little, you can see her hands as she easily threads the thick ribbon through the eyelets. “Opposing sides. Like this.”
You purse your lips. “We don’t wear these dreadful things in Redania,” you mutter, your breath hitching as the corset tightens. She laughs before stepping away, brushing loose lint from the folds of the heavy fabric.
“Even so, our fashion does suit you.” You can tell she wants to say something else, the way her mouth opens and then closes, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“You’ve another correction?” You ask, gesturing at yourself with a chuckle, but she shakes her head. She glances at the door, as though reassuring herself that it was still shut.
“No, no, I—I do not mean to be insolent, Highness,” Kassandra begins, “but I do not think I have ever heard you say you have rested well within these walls.” Your smile turns brittle and tired.
“No. I have not. And your concern is not insolence. I am grateful for it.”
“Healer Janna—her draughts have not availed you?” You hesitate, wondering if you should describe the shape of your demon, give it form and substance outside of your mind. You shake your head, steepling your fingers together to stop them from trembling.
“It seems the dreams that plague me require more than nightroot and dried frogspawn to satisfy them.” I see my father. I see him dead a thousand ways.
“Healer Janna’s draughts for sleep and pain are as close to magic as they’ll allow in the White Keep, you know that.” Bastard’s magic. You do. You think of Father Rame’s disgusted expression. He does not seem the type to suffer a witch to live. “But I have… there is another. A woman—they call her The Dock Hag.” Her voice is a low whisper, as if she fears the good Father ears will ring with her heresy, even here.
“And she can… she can rid me of these dreams?” The prospect is a tantalizing one. “You know her? You have visited this woman?”
“I—yes. I met her. Once.” Her smile is sad. “When I was small, and the older Ladies had need of her.” Kassandra’s words are aged, heavy with the weight of years that both do and do not belong to her in equal measure. “And then again, for the memories.”
“She…” You cannot bring yourself to say it. Kassandra nods, the smile going brittle and crumbling from her face.
“Not many Lords will claim their bastards, Highness, if you will forgive my candor.”
In your mind’s eye you see a small Kassandra, attending her own mother, most likely, or perhaps even an older sister or cousin who… had need of this woman. The witch who had taken their babies—
And then burnt their dreams out.
“What did it cost?”
“Nothing special. Gold.” You let out a relieved sigh at her words. That, at least, is an easy enough problem to solve. Kassandra cuts her eyes at you. “Are you going to go? To see her?”
Perhaps Madge was a superstitious old northern goat—But maybe she was right too: the living are not meant to mingle with the dead. Perhaps it is some guilt that drives your father’s image to the forefront of your mind, some secret thing that the specter of his death clings to—you cannot know.
But the witch might.
—
The east stair is narrow, cut roughly out of the stone as if it were an afterthought. The iron railing is pitted and mottled from the salt in the air, and it rattles dangerously as you grip it. The stairs themselves are uneven, still slick from the inconsistent rain that had stopped only hours before. Every step feels as though you are lurching forward, being pulled down the long winding stair to the paving below.
There are more ways to enter and exit this keep than the main gate, Majesty.
The east stair wound around the back of the White Keep like a snake, the steps hidden in the stone like a secret. As you take another cautious step down, your foot slips and you gasp, the railing shaking as you cling to it. You steady yourself, locking your trembling knees tightly as you recite Kassandra’s instructions.
You will take the east stair down from the parapets over the chapel. Through the gap in the wall is the city. Go straight to the docks, ask for the Hag.” She had not wanted to stay behind, though you had convinced her with a stern look and an order to send away any who came knocking at your door till you returned. You would need her to provide a believable excuse in the event that anyone came looking—and an empty room would be cause for alarm, especially with you… “ill.”
Below you, the city glitters with light even as the dark begins to deepen. Beyond it, the sun sinks into the sea, lingering on the horizon before disappearing completely. Like Kassandra had said, near the foot of the stairs—twenty feet back, and behind a column, but near enough—is the gap in the wall. It is overgrown thick with dying ivy, the orange leaves already turning spotty brown at the edges.
Crushed leaves litter the hood and shoulders of your cloak as you start to squeeze inside, the stone catching at your clothes. You push your way through the narrow passage, panic coiling in your gut at the feel of the unyielding pressure at your chest and back. Your fingers meet open air at the next push, and you practically drag yourself out into the streetlight, fingers digging into the stone.
The misty street that greets you is practically empty, and what few people there are do not seem to have noticed that you have joined them from nowhere on the wet cobbled street. Hurriedly, you brush dirt and discarded leaves from your cloak before you adjust your hood, angling it down over your eyes. You keep your head down, your hands clenched into trembling, nervous fists. Every heavy step you take away from the keep sets the warning bells in your skull to ringing, as gooseflesh rises on your arms.
It isn’t too late to go back. It isn’t. Not too late to turn around, slip back between the ivy covered crack in the east wall and seek your mother’s counsel once more—and go to sleep, knowing that you will see beyond the veil again.
The thought spurs you onward.
The streets are even more unfamiliar in the growing dark, and as you watch the lanterns flare to life to chase it away, you swallow nervously. There is so much to see, here—too much. As you approach the city centre the market is still bustling with activity, the shops open and windows bright.
You spare yourself a few moments to watch the people. A woman buys bread, her son playing in her skirts, a man pulls shut the door of the tavern across the way, a blacksmith’s hammer falls rhythmically like a drum, the chapel’s bell rings for evening prayer—there is so much here, the sheer amount of everything almost dizzies you. A woman bumps your shoulder as she passes by, and it stirs you out of your reverie. By the time she turns to apologize, you are already gone, hurrying off through the square.
The air turns salt with brine the closer you get, and you lick your dry lips, tasting it. The night had been thick with sounds in the city center, but the further you travel from it, the more quiet the streets become. It is eerie, the stark difference between these silent, empty streets and the lively square only moments ago.
The last time you had been to the docks was when you’d stepped off of the ship, in the scant few days before your mother’s wedding. Now, the narrow streets look different, unrecognizable from the snatches you remember through the carriage windows. You look in one direction, and then another, frowning.
“You’re lost, Sweet.” There is no question in the old woman’s voice. You see her then, standing beneath the street lantern in a pool of pale light.
“I—I am looking for—”
“Me, Sweet. You’re looking for me.” The shadows fall away from her face without her moving, like the light has only just decided to accept her. The Witch’s white hair is wild about her face. And her face… she is a severe beauty, like wind whipped ocean waves. The years define her jaw, sloping in gentle strokes down around her eyes, and her ears slope upward into gentle points. She is older than your mother, though you know this not by sight but because you simply… know it. An uncanny feeling that has grown in the back of your mind that she is like you, but… un-like you, too.
She is an elf.
It is not just the ears, but the air about her, an ethereal quality that surrounds her as thickly as the shawl about her shoulders. It is in the delicate set of her jaw, perhaps, or the distinct lack of canine teeth in her amused grin. You take a halting step forward, and then stop, wary.
“You are the W—you can help me?” The Witch wraps her shawl tighter about her shoulders, and fixes you with a hawkish look.
“Don’t know that yet.” She purses her lips. “Shall we do this in the street? Or will you oblige me my own roof?” You nod hurriedly, and follow her as she turns quickly on her heel down the street. You are close enough to the docks to hear the water as she approaches a small house, pushing open the door. You follow her inside, halting briefly at the doorway. There is dried heather inside, hanging in a braided bushel on the arch. She watches you step inside, her dark eyes narrowed.
“Shut the door behind you,” she snaps, flicking the edge of her shawl over her shoulder. “Never met a Princess raised in a bloody barn.” You brush aside the bushels of dried herbs hanging from the low ceiling as you make your way inside.
The Witch rounds the other side of the table, where you see the evidence of her unfinished work. A grindstone, laying on its side, with half-ground herbs lying in the bowl.
“How did you know?” You ask as she picks it back up, the sound of stone on stone filling the room as she resumes. “That I was looking… for you.”
“I always know,” she replies, somewhat exasperated. “Like a rabbit knows a fox.” Her sharp eyes find yours once more. “What ails you, sweet Princess?” There is mockery in her tone, though you dare not take umbrage at its presence. “A suitor you wish to beguile? A fair maiden you wish to remove from his eye?” Her gaze drops down, and then darts back up again.
“Or perhaps an unseen consequence?”
Your throat tightens.
“No, I—my dreams.” You say. “I dream the most terrible things, and I—I want you to take them away.”
The stone stops.
“Come here, child. Into the light.” The Witch holds out her hand, beckoning you forward. “And take down that stupid hood, you’re not hiding from anyone here.” She clucks her tongue at you as you approach, fingering the edge of your hood reluctantly. She already knows who you are—though you are not quite sure how she knows. With one hand, she reaches for your face. You do not flinch away from her—you do not fear her, though perhaps if you were smarter, you suppose you would. Her touch is gentle as she tilts your chin up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
The fire crackles in the hearth, louder for the silence.
“And what do you dream?”
“I see…” You swallow. “I see dead things.” She peers into your eyes, her pupils wide. “I see my father.” You tremble as she steps away, your mouth suddenly dry. “These dreams, these-these nightmares, you can stop them, can you not? You can—”
“I’ll not hear more about what I can and cannot do from the maid in the high castle,” she snaps. “And they are not dreams, though you walk through them in yours.” With her other hand, she reaches beneath her collar, producing a thin leather cord. There are all manner of things tied to it—feathers, beads, and small, clean animal skills that shine dimly in the firelight. There is a long black needle there, too, hanging by its’ eye.
“There is a spirit tethered to you.” She turns your hand over, stroking her fingers over the lines in your palm. She snaps her fingers, motioning for you to give her your other hand. “By great sorrow—” The Witch squints, bringing your hands closer to her face. “Or rage.” She drops your left hand, holding onto your right. “I can no more remove it than I could your shadow.”
“Tethered?” You repeat. “These are—they are dreams, they are not real—” You sputter in protest, but the Witch merely looks at you, orange firelight dancing in her dark eyes.
“If they are only dreams, why do you fear them so?” You cannot answer. “They are messages. You should be grateful for them, there are few feats quite as great as bridging the divide between us and those who have gone before, Little Queen. Your father cannot watch over you forever.”
“I am a Princess.” The Witch smiles.
“Is that right?” She grasps your hand, gripping your index finger hard and watching as the tip reddens. You flinch as she pinches the needle between two thin fingers. “Come now, Sweet. Mustn’t be afeared of a little pain.” She jabs it into the meat of your finger, and you yelp, tugging uselessly at your hand, but her grip is iron.
“Ouch!” With a twist of her hand she swipes the fat drop of blood from your fingertip and flicks it into the fireplace. It does not fizzle out, but instead lands on the topmost log, bubbling until it turns black. It smells like ozone—not copper. You do not know why, but you tremble a the sight of it. You have come here to have something taken away, but as you watch your blood crack and burn, you feel as if perhaps something is being given instead.
“What does this mean?” You turn to her. The Witch rubs your blood between her fingers, sniffing the residue for a moment before wiping them clean on a rag. She does not answer you right away, staring thoughtfully at the thin line of black smoke curling from the fireplace.
“Please, I—”
“It means, Princess, that we are kin, you and I.” She tilts your chin back as you stare at her, wide eyed. She runs the tips of her fingers over the narrow curve of your left ear—not pointed, not like hers, but… You push her away before you can stop yourself, clutching at your chest with your other hand as if to calm your racing heart.
“This cannot be true, it—it cannot!”
“Less than half,” she continues as if your sputtered refusal had never been spoken at all. “Less elf blood in you than I could hold in my hand, but aye, kin we are, still.” The Witch looks you up and down, and this time, there is pity in her gaze. “I cannot take your dreams.” Cold spreads through your trembling limbs. “You must release them yourself.”
“Release them? How?” She cups your face, and the movement of her thumb over the swell of your cheek is almost affectionate, though the words she speaks next send a cold chill down your spine.
“No fear, Little Princess. No fear.” For a moment, you swear her eyes go gold, and Geralt’s voice echoes again in the space between you. Before the Witch can say more, you quickly dig the gold out of your pocket, tossing the coins down onto the table as you flee. You do not register her cries to stop, to wait as you barrel through the door, throwing it shut behind you.
It is raining again, hard sheets of cold water pouring down from the dark, angry sky. You can hear the sea raging against the docks, water crashing in thunderous waves up against the harbor’s weathered stone. Your head is spinning, full to bursting. You are elf-kin—perhaps? Maybe?
Your mother had never seen fit to mention that minor detail—and for that matter, neither had your father. You tug your hood up roughly over your head and turn your face down, away from the cold rain pelting against your skin. Had he even known?
Would he have even wanted to?
Perhaps I can just ask him myself.
The thought makes you shiver, wrapping your cloak tighter around your shoulders. I can no more remove it than I could your shadow. You do not know which is worse—having left your father behind alone in the dirt, or the restless specter of him living in your dreams. Your finger aches from the point of the dock witch’s iron needle, and you clutch your hand to your chest as you make your way back towards the White Keep. Above you, a white hot arc of lightning splits the sky, throwing up stark shadows against the row of dark houses.
It is by that grace alone that you see the man.
You stop short, your heart leaping into your throat. He stands in the shadows beneath the sagging eaves, his stony face surprised as your eyes meet. He steps forward with a heavy sigh, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his hip.
“Highness.” Your throat tightens, and you take a cautious step back as he comes into the meagre light offered by the street lantern above you. “Please don’t make this difficult.” His cloak is drawn over his chest, but you can see the shape of the armor underneath, jet black.
Nilfgaardian.
You turn—and run straight into a hard, armored chest.
“Good evening, Your Highness.” Duke Emhyr’s long fingers dig hard into your shoulders, hard enough to bruise. His black hair is slick with rain. He was waiting here… waiting for me. “I shall have to inform Lady Kassandra of your whereabouts,” he sneers. “She seems to think you are asleep in your bed.” You lift your heel and grind it hard into the top of his foot, and the Duke curses, his grip loosening. You pull away, but he manages to catch the edge of your cloak, pulling hard until you fall backwards.
The impact knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping and dizzy, staring up at the dark sky.
“We did not get to finish our little chat, in the garden.” He says, squatting down over you as you struggle up to your knees on the wet street. “I think we should do that now, Princess.”
Your heart pounds heavily against your ribcage as you stagger to your feet.
“No.”
“It is not a request.” He motions to the guard behind you, and he grabs you as you struggle, wrenching your arms behind you.
“Filthy witch,” he hisses, and you flinch. “You and your whore mother.”
“Gavin, your manners.” He tuts mockingly. “I would be honored, Majesty, if you would accompany me for tea.” You stare at him in silence, the rain soaking through your cloak. “If you would, Ser Gavin.” He forces you forward, and you stumble.
“It is late for tea, Lord Emhyr,” you snap, dragging your feet against the paving stones. “Perhaps a discussion with Her Majesty herself—” Ser Gavin grunts with irritation at your resistance and shoves you, hard. You stumble as the Duke makes an angry noise deep in his throat.
“I’ve little stomach for lies.”
A cold shiver winds its way up your back. You hear the threat though the words remain unspoken. The streets are deserted, and you cannot tell if it is the weather or the hour. Behind you, clears his throat.
“Here, my Lord.”
The faded, splintering sign hanging above the door reads Madam’s Tea House, though by the riotous noise coming from inside, you suspect they serve a few things little stronger than tea. Ser Gavin places a rough hand on the back of your head, forcing it down as he steers you through the doorway. Your stomach drops as your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
The air stinks of ale, sweaty skin and something more pungent and sour that you cannot identify. There are people everywhere, draped across tables, lounging on pillows and pinned against walls in various states of undress. Your throat goes dry, at the sight of the bare-breasted women sprawled over the tables, their dresses rucked up around their waists. A woman with white painted cheeks and cherry red lips steps quickly out of the way as you are shuffled through, her eyes lowered and lips pressed into a thin line. You understand their choice of venue now—
No one will even remember you were here— and no one will remember when you are not.
As if sensing your rising panic, Ser Gavin’s hand tightens on the scruff of your neck, and with the other hand, he grasps your shoulder. On the raised dais in the center of the dim room, a woman twists lithely, scarves gripped in each of her dainty hands. Gold rings dangle from her bared nipples, matching the one in her nose. Your eyes meet and for a single moment, for a single step, she falters.
The crowd at her feet turns on her in an instant, jeering and spitting. The same men who had watched her dance with silent awe now mock her openly, insults dripping from their lips along with stray drops of ale.
“Let’s get a new girl up here. One who can remember her bloody steps!” There is no end to the praises of men when one is perfect—nor an end to their venom when you are not. The truth of it is as plain as the room Duke Emhyr and Ser Gavin force you into. There is a bed with a bare, stained mattress upon its dilapidated frame, and a wooden chair stands between it and the weak fire in the hearth.
“Sit.” Emhyr instructs you with a bored gesture, and when you do not comply, Ser Gavin squeezes your shoulder hard until you gasp from the pain of it. You lower yourself reluctantly to the chair as the Duke watches, and you get the feeling that he enjoys it, watching you be forced to heel. If not my mother, then me. Through the silence, you can hear the muted noise of the brothel outside. As uncomfortable as it is for you, you hope it is doubly so for them.
The Duke stares at you, his eyes narrowed.
“You wouldn’t see it, not at first,” he says. The disgust drips from every syllable, like he is speaking of something unsavory. “The way you favor them.”
Your heart pounds even as you feign ignorance, schooling your features into shocked offense at his words. He cannot know that this is the second time you have heard them this evening, that you are already itching to get to a mirror to confirm these revelations for yourself, because you do not even know if they are true. The memory of black blood curdling in the hearth is enough to set the uncertainty in your lead filled stomach rolling.
“I know not of what you speak, my Lord.” The words feel fragile, like they are made of glass. “There—there is still time to let this be nothing but an unpleasant misunderstanding—”
The duke stands in front of the hearth, his hand resting on the mantle. The curve of his back speaks to his weariness, and you wonder if he has been looking for you all night.
“You and your whore mother have upset the order of things quite a bit, here. Whatever other things you may be, you are not unintelligent enough not to have seen so.” He turns, the fire reddening his cheeks and setting the whit es of his beady eyes ablaze. “Two seasons of talk and courtships undone in a month—and for a woman who is too old to bear a new heir.”
“His Majesty has an heir,” you remind him. “Or have you forgotten? If you disagree with your king’s decision, you are more than welcome to challenge it before the court a second time, though Their Majesties might not be so prone to leniency given the circumstance.” His jaw tics at the reminder of his position—and yours—but the sly upturn at the corners of his mouth do not disappear.
“So the Witch does inspire loyalty in you.” He squats in front of you. “Do you know what we do to witches, in the North?” He asks, fingering the dagger at his belt. “Father Wolf is the devourer of all things. Even savages.”
“Ever since I stepped from boat to shore I have heard that word, and I cannot help but wonder,” the words pour through the gaps in your gritted teeth, and you hope he chokes on the broken glass of them—“if you have ever uttered them looking in a mirror.”
He raises his hand, as if to backhand you across your face, and you duck down hunching your shoulders to prepare for the blow. It does not land, however, and when you look cautiously up at the duke, he is staring behind you, locked above your head. There is a fourth presence in the room now, one you feel pricking at the back of your neck.
“No, no, continue.” The drawl that fills the empty room is both shocking and achingly familiar. “I would see the treason with my own eyes.” Geralt stands in the doorway, filling it to the brim with the width of his shoulders. Water drips from his sodden silver hair, though he makes no move to push it back from his face. His hand rests openly upon the sword hanging at his hip.
“That way it passes fewer lips on its way to the king.”
Duke Emhyr’s eyes go wide, and then angry.
“I protect the crown, and you call it treason,” slowly,—almost regretfully —the duke lowers his hand. “Can you not see? Can you not see how they twist—” Geralt turns his gaze to you, and somehow his golden eyes seem darker. Harder.
He came for me.
Ser Gavin fingers the pommel of his sword nervously, playing at the thought of unsheathing it, but too craven to commit. Still, he stands between you and the prince, and does not move. The duke’s rambling of treason and bewitchery continues behind you, rising to a fever pitch as you approach the door. Briefly as you turn, you see him, his face red and lips flecked with frothy spittle as he flings a long, accusing finger towards you.
“They will poison this empire, it’s people! You cannot allow them to sit the throne, it is treason to do it knowingly, you must act!” The fire burns bright in his wide eyes, and you see reflected in them the same vicious zealotry that burned in Father Rame’s. “That which is rooted in rotten soil cannot grow! I will not stand idle while we are destroyed from within.”
In the spaces between his words you can see the calculation. He’s chosen death, you realize. You taste it in the air before he speaks, the power of his decision already shaping the world around it, like chaos—but not the kind they shunned. It tastes like the air inside the chapel; the still, thick air, perfumed so that the smell of his body would not leak further than a few feet beyond his corpse.
“You know the truth of what I speak, Majesty, you must see that His Highness is not himself! He pants after the elf-bitch, like a man possessed! It is unnatural, you must—you must see it!”
Geralt’s mouth creases with anger. “I see your distrust in your King has bred treasonous discontent. I see your desire to rise above your station would have you slavering after my father’s throne like the dog you are.” He steps into the room then, and you watch as the Duke’s hand closes about the grip of the dagger strapped to his waist. “Your dedication to this fiction will cost you.”
You had not been able to see Geralt’s other hand, positioned behind him, his arm taut as though he were dragging something heavy. He steps aside, and your heart leaps into your throat as you see why—
A dead Nilfgaardian soldier lies behind him, dark liquid pooling thickly underneath his armor. The duke sees it too, his body tensing.
“If you will not serve your people, if your father will not protect them, what choice have you left me?” The duke murmurs, the words underscored by the quiet ring of steel as he unsheathes his blade. You jump up, knocking the chair over in your haste to get away from him. You trip over your skirts, stumbling forward as Ser Gavin grabs for you, his hand knotting in your cloak.
“You will let her go.” Geralt delivers the instructions as truth—no ultimatums.
“Oh, aye,” Emhyr, nods, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “On that we agree.” You expect him to lunge for the prince, to hear the sharp clash of steel on steel, but you do not. Instead, his face fills your vision. “You may go wherever you wish, now, Lady.”
You taste death on his words and in the air, and when he steps away, his hands are empty. There is a strange coldness in your belly, and slowly, your hand drifts up to investigate. The leather grip of the dagger is warm, but the steel is cold, so cold you can feel it all the way inside. It’s strange, the way it doesn’t hurt, the way the blood does not feel hot on your trembling hands but cold—
The death Emhyr had chosen was neither his own, nor Geralt’s—but yours.
Dimly, you are aware of Geralt, of your body tucked tightly against his, the sound of steel on steel, the feel of cold rain on your face. Weakly, you lift a hand to your belly, your fingers slipping on the handle. Geralts hand closes over yours.
“You must leave it, Doe, you must. I know it hurts.” It doesn’t. You want to tell him, but you cannot find the will to move your lips. You feel your grip slacken on his cloak, your fingers releasing themselves without your permission as your vision tunnels. Geralt tells you not to close your eyes, and the words echo far off in the encroaching dark.
I have to, you think that perhaps the words escape your slack lips in a low mumble, but you cannot be sure.
Just for a little while.
to be continued…
next chapter
#henry cavill#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill fanfiction#geralt#geralt of rivia#henry cavill x reader#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia x you#geralt x reader#geralt x you#witcher fanfiction#witcher fic#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher#the witcher fandom#darkfic#dark fantasy#au#boxofbonesfic#Tonality fic
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I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)
Tighnari:
My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!
There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).
Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.
Collei:
COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.
Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.
Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.
Cyno:
Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6
I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.
I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.
Conclusion
I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process
#FINALLY#IT'S DONE#I don't know why this took so long. maybe because I was trying new art style stuff#anyway I like how this came out!! my favourite guys#my main thoughts for each of them were like. tighnari <- kind of a chad. collei <- should get to wear shorts. cyno <- gap moe#<- i say having written 9 paragraphs about the development thoughts under the readmore. wahey#big shoutout to everyone who draws the archers ripped. you guys are inspirational#genshin impact#tighnari#collei#cyno#my art
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Yellow Daises
Steve Harrington x fem!reader lil blurb CW: Blowjobs, some spitting
Steve’s picnic date falls through.
He had tried so hard. His frustration was high, his nerves shot as each thing slowly but surely fell apart.
The chocolate strawberries he’d spent so long on had sweated away; the chocolate melting into soup and leaving the berries soggy. The top piece of bread to your sandwich had blown off with the wind, then a cricket had jumped onto the main part of it. You had laughed and squealed about it, but he could feel his confidence failing.
The breaking point had been the bag of chips that just wouldn’t open, until they did. Covering both of you and the blanket with chips and crumbs as the bag crumpled lazily on his tight grip.
“Fuck,” He spit out in frustration, trying to figure out why he was being punished for this dare going so wrong. His first one in a long time and he had fucked it up, “I’m sorry.”
“Steve, it’s okay,” You said with a laugh, “It’s not your fault. Is the blanket clean?” You asked as you drifted your fingers across the plaid design. He sighed.
“Yeah,” He mumbled in defeat as he shrugged his shoulders, “I got it yesterday.” He admitted, but left out the part where he had taken a long time to wash, dry and iron it. It was silly.
You shrugged your shoulders as you reached for a chip near your knee, plopping it into your mouth and chewing it with a loud crunch. He watched you in fascination.
“Do you have any spoons?” You questioned next as you turned to face him, “Or a straw?” You hummed as you looked at the bowl that held his soupy strawberries.
“You don’t have to eat that,” He replied as he gently took the container from your hands, “I’m sorry this royally sucks.”
“I didn’t agree to date you for the incredible food,” You grinned as you looked at him, “Although, you do have some talent scooping those cones.”
“It’s all in the wrist.” He smiled back, feeling a little bit better as he twisted his hands around for extra effect. You laughed at his motions, making his stomach flutter at the sound. It was the prettiest thing he'd ever heard.
You scooted a little closer to him, your legs sliding over his as a playful grin lingered on your lips. You drifted your fingers across the hem of his shirt, leaving his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest as you tugged on it. He could feel his blood rushing down his body, leaving him gulping hard at the awkward position he was in now.
"I really appreciate you doing all of this," You added softly, fingers moving to his belt as he continued to struggle to breathe. You were so close to his cock that he could feel himself beginning to ache, shivering underneath your touch, "S'nice." You added sweetly, biting down on your bottom lip as his belt fell loose.
"You don't have to," He replied quickly, tongue flicking out for a second as he watched you shift between his legs. You flattened yourself out, laying on your stomach before you stalled at the zipper of his jeans, "Unless you really want to." He added a second later, face flushed at the way your hand brushed over his growing bulge.
"I really do," You teased, smiling sweetly as you lightly kicked your feet in the air, "As a thank you for all your hard work." You nodded your head, laughing softly as you freed his hard cock from the restraints of his pants.
He exhaled harshly, watching the way your eyes gleamed with lust as you savored the look of him. You wiggled a little closer to him, fingers lightly brushing against the girth of his cock while you delivered a fat kiss against the tip of his dick.
He hissed at the contact, cock throbbing underneath your soft touch as you continued to press gentle kisses along his leaking tip. Your eyes latched to him, staring intensely as you began to roll your tongue out across his pink skin.
"Fuck," He exhaled harshly, stomach fluttering in pleasure as he fell back to his elbows. You wrapped a hand around his girth, giving his base a soft squeeze before you curved your motions along the length of his dick, "Feels really good." He spit out, a whimper falling free as you repeated the motions.
"You look so pretty, Stevie," You whispered softly, licking away his precum as he jerked his hips forward to meet the way your hand fell to his base again, "Wanna make you feel good." You added, making his eyes flutter again as your warm words settled over him.
His mind felt hazy as you rolled your tongue across his tip once again, your saliva drooling down the length of his cock as he throbbed in your hands. Your breath was a little cool as you slid the head of his cock past your lips, forcing your jaw to relax as you slowly slid him into your mouth.
His fingertips twitched against the blanket, his body trembling underneath you as one of your palms fell flat against his hip. You held him in place, squeezing his balls with your other hand as his cock slid deeper inside of your mouth.
You could only stuff about half of his dick inside of your mouth before you were gagging, eyebrows furrowing together and eye lashes fluttering as you blinked away tears. Drool pooled from the corner of your lips, coating his cock in your spit as you messily dragged your hand up and down in the same rhythm as your mouth.
He pressed his hips up, his heavy cock hitting the back of your throat as you began to gag all over again. You moaned along his dick, sounds muffled as he admired the way your lips stretched around his thick girth.
He hissed at the feeling of your tongue dragging along his throbbing skin, soothing the growing ache as you began to move your mouth faster along the curve of his cock.
"Oh God," He groaned from deep within his chest, moans rushing from his tongue as he felt the burning pleasure growing through his body. He huffed, his hips moving without his command as you tried to press down on his body once again, "Fuck, fuck!" He cursed, feeling the awe rush over him.
You squeezed at his balls, rubbing the drool across his skin as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat with each thrust. He felt his lips part further, his eyes shut as his head fell back as the feeling of you swallowing around his cock sent him over the edge.
His ass left the blanket as he pressed himself deep inside of your mouth, sending you gagging even harder as you tightly gripped a hold of his hips. You held onto him as the waves of pleasure crashed inside of him, snapping as his came down your throat.
The sun was hot against his skin as he fell back into the blanket in a huff, his arm resting over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel his heart racing, his pulse vibrating against his bones as you slowly pulled away.
He could feel the mess of saliva and cum on his cock before he saw just a quick glimpse of it, his mind still hazy as you slowly crawled over his body.
He moved his hands to your hips, brown eyes wide as he stared up at the way you blocked out the sun from his eyes. He licked his bottom lip, knitting his eyebrows together as you slowly pressed his lips apart.
And then you spit. A thick mixture of drool and cum landing on his teeth and tongue as he stared in disbelief. He felt like he should recoil, but all he felt was a sense of electricity thrumming through his body.
You watched, tilting your head expectantly before he pressed his lips together and swallowed roughly. It tasted odd, but the satisfied smirk on your lips was enough to make him want to do it again and again.
"Good boy." You cooed as you rubbed at his cheek, making his skin warm underneath your touch. He was hooked.
#steve harrington#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x you#Steve Harrington x Y/N#Steve Harrington x fem!reader#Steve Harrington x female!reader#Steve harrington blurb#Steve Harrington imagine#Steve Harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington smut#Steve Harrington x reader smut
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The Fifth Day Of Smutmas
[smutmas masterlist][main masterlist]
~ Decorate With Me ~
Alpha!Mattheo Riddle x Bratty Omega!Reader
Summary: Alpha!Mattheo is too lazy to decorate the house for the holiday’s, thinking it useless, you however entice him to decorate one thing at a time as you strip for him, teasing him and escaping his grasp until all that’s left to do is place the ornaments on the tree, leaving him to decorate you.
- kinda AU but not really, Omegaverse and no mentions of magic, implied businessman Mattheo bc thats hot☺️ -
Warnings: 18+ Content!! Language, SexualTeasing, Stripping,Marking Kink, HairPulling(only a lil),Unprotected PinV, Cumplay, Breeding Kink, Consensual Sexual Punishment, D/S Dynamics.
“Come on Matty, pleeease” You begged, standing over Mattheo where he sat, his navy colored business suit contrasting the black leather of the large couch.
“I said no. What’s gotten into you, you always listen to me why the fuck aren’t you now?” He rolled his beautiful eyes away from yours and back to the book in front of him that gripped his attention in this moment far too much for your liking.
“I told you, I want you to decorate with me.” You pouted, crossing your arms and poking your hip out defiantly, “Me and my family decorated every year, and now that we live together you have to too. You’re just holding it off because you’re lazy, you put the tree up weeks ago and it’s still empty.” You sighed, pointing your arm in the direction of the large, bare Christmas tree.
“I think you’re forgetting that I do not have to do anything Princess, and you calling me lazy is rather funny considering I work for the money that pays for everything you can ever desire. So please decorate if you wish, but I’ll be sitting right here while you are.” Mattheo’s voice was laced with indifference as his eyes remained unmoving but focused on the pages in front of him, gripping his glass of bourbon tightly at your intrusion. After days of being denied his help you were fed up, you knew of one surefire way to grab your mates attention and that was of course, you naked in front of him ready to do anything he wished for. But….until he granted your wishes you wouldn’t be granting his.
“Fine. I will just do it all alone.” You stated innocently, walking off as you discreetly began tugging the thin straps of your red gown down your arms, allowing it to slip off your frame and pool around your ankles where it was kicked off towards the man behind you. Mattheo’s knowing gaze immediately latched onto your matching lingerie set and stockings with a scoff before locking with your eyes over your shoulder, licking his lips in an obvious attempt to control himself.
“What do you think you’re doing? Did you fucking plan this?” You giggle as his brows furrow, looking away from him and arching your back much more than necessary as you bent to grab the large box of Christmas decorations you were allowed to take from your parents when you moved in with Mattheo.
You felt his eyes dig into your behind, giving a little shake as you tossed the lid open and began grabbing the lights that were neatly coiled above the many layers of decorations, “This isn’t gonna work y’know,” Mattheo laughed, slamming his book shut and tossing it aside as he pushed himself further down the couch cushion, spreading his legs to give himself more space as he watched you move about the room. The way the hem of your lace underwear was cradling your curves in a teasing manner as your tits bounced against their harsh confines was cracking his reserve already, “You think I can’t resist you prancing about in that….” He spoke in a deeper voice now, clearly affected by your body and clearly trying to convince himself of what he was saying.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Your face grew warm as you twirled the string of lights around the base of the tree, avoiding his burning eyes as you sauntered around it teasingly, reminiscent of how you would a pole. His eyes trailed along your exposed thighs and stomach, aching to have you in a way he hadn’t felt since your last heat. You weren’t usually such a brat and he was loving every minute of it, he saw how you became whiny after he had told you just a few days ago that he was too tired to decorate, fully intending to do it the next night. However, when you stood there with crossed arms and a deep pout he just had to see it again. Now though, he was losing his patience, he had to have you and he’d do anything for it.
Once the lights shone brightly up and down the tree you stepped back to observe your handy work, placing your hands on your hips as you looked over your shoulder to find Mattheo’s eyes raking up your body until they fell into yours with a silent order you weren’t going to follow. You could sense his desire to gain control again as he always had, but you wanted more from him, you needed more. His little reaction had done nothing to stray you from your plan, you saw in his dark eyes that he wouldn’t last long.
His eyes followed your movements as your fingertips ghosted up your body, tickling against your flesh to slowly grasp the latch of your bra in your steady hands, turning back to observe the tree as though nothing was happening. Mattheo’s breath hitched as you slowly unhooked your bra with your back still facing him, your shoulder blades moving teasingly as you shoved the material onto the floor in front of the partially decorated tree, still not turning to show him your exposed chest. He hissed as you stepped forward again, moving away and out of his sight to grab more decorations, his pants were tightened around his growing dick as he took the last swig of his drink before abruptly standing to follow you.
You noticed his presence behind you immediately, the tension in the room growing as soon as he stepped through the entrance, “You think you can tease me like that?” He asked, voice low as he approached your turned back slowly, each step sending a shiver down your spine and directly to your core as his expensive dress shoes hit the wood below them tauntingly. He chuckled, clearly thinking he had you cornered as he grew closer, gripping your hip in his aggressive hold as he leant over your nude shoulder, his warm breath against your neck filling you with a mix of expectance and defiance of his actions.
In one quick motion, Mattheo’s strong hand spun you to face him, almost knocking you off your feet as they attempted to catch up with the maneuver. His eyes met yours before trailing down your chest with a genuine smile, “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he sighed, his free hand finding your neck as he began melting into your touch. You allowed him to pull you into him, almost touching your lips together before you pulled away, “I need to get this box to the living room, we can get back to this after,” You almost let out a chuckle at the mans dumbfounded expression as you grab the box behind you, conveniently hiding your chest as you maneuvered around his still figure to the door behind him, “It would go way faster if I had some help though.”
“Oh for fucks sake,” Mattheo mumbles to himself as you leave him alone in the spare room, his mind racing with ways of gaining power over the situation but each one required focus he couldn’t obtain while you strutted around the house half naked. So instead he opted to give in….just this once.
The echo of Mattheo’s footsteps didn’t shock you, nor did the growl that escaped his lips as he took in your now entirety bare ass in front of him, the only remaining part of your outfit being the white and red stockings that were driving him absolutely insane with each passing second. “Okay! You win, give me the fucking Santa,” Mattheo snapped, making you turn to him with a wide smile before throwing yourself onto him for a hug, almost immediately stepping out of his grasp quickly as he attempted to pull you back in.
He huffed behind you as you handed him item after item to find a place for in your home, still solely focused on your almost fully nude body in front of him even as he placed miniature Santas and reindeers all around your house. Eventually however all that was left was to place the ornaments on the tree which only took an excruciating 30 minutes before he could finally have what he wanted.
Your face smashed into the couch as Mattheo aggressively shoved you forward, tugging your hips upward as his hand firmly placed against your face, “Do you need me to fuck this attitude out of you Princess?” Your incoherent mumbles of yes go unheard as he forces his fingers into you hair, tugging you upward and against his clothed chest, “I asked you a question,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, nibbling on your flesh before he spoke again, “Now fucking answer it.” He spat out, shoving you back forward as you begged him to fuck you senseless, his hand finding it’s spot against the side of your face once more as he tugged at his belt buckle. The clinking metal sending shocks of pleasure to your core, drenching your entrance as it ached to have your Alpha.
In a matter of seconds, Mattheo tugged his dress pants and boxers only partially down his thighs, leaving you fully exposed and vulnerable in front of him as he lined his leaking cock up to your entrance before plowing into you with no real warning. Stretching you out almost beyond your limit as he immediately set a steady, rough pace to his thrusts, grunting above you as you clutched onto the leather of the couch. “Oh fuck Mattheo, you feel so good,”
Your almost incoherent babbles of pleasure egg him in as he snaps his hips faster against yours, eyes trained on where he disappeared deep into you, pulling out almost completely before slamming back into, pulling a scream of a moan from the back of your throat as he groans at the sound. The feeling of your walls clenching around him, silently begging him to stay inside of you, urging him to fill you up with his cum almost made him lose focus of his goal, snapping his hips harder and faster, his public bone bouncing against your clit every few thrusts as he built up his release.
Your mind was hazy as his warm, rough hand held you against the heating leather, the grip of his other hand on your hip surely leaving an entirely intentional print of his hand that had your mind going dumb as you clamped down around him, your legs shaking each time his tip slammed against you g-spot sending you soaring as your mind fogged, so close to your orgasm it felt almost painful.
“Oh fuck Matty please” You practically screamed, begging to cum as Mattheo slammed into you, the sound of damp skin smacking together echoing across the hardwood floors as you mewled and whined below him, his hard grip being the only thing keeping you in your position as you absentmindedly began bucking back against him, feeding his ego as you bounced on his cock, meeting his thrusts with a lazy smile on your face.
Your moans became whimpers as your walls clamped down on him tightly, unrelenting and desperately trying to hold him inside while you came around him, your legs were shaking uncontrollably against him as you quickly approached your high falling over the edge as Mattheo’s thrusts sped up, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, almost overstimulating you as he grew sloppy. His hips stuttered against you, groaning above you before he was pulling out of you entirely causing a desperate whine to escape you, sending him flying over the edge, shaking uncontrollably as thick spurts of his cum covered your back.
You whined below him, unable to form full words as you clenched around nothing, still coming down from your high as you almost cried at the lack of the full feeling Mattheo always left after filling you and stuffing his fingers back inside to ensure nothing came out. You wiggled your hips as if expecting him to go again just to fill you with his seed.
“Oh my pretty, bratty Baby,” Mattheo mockingly pouted down to you as he mindlessly played with his release covering your back “Are you mad I didn’t fill you up Princess?” Mattheo asks, knowing the obvious answer as he laughs over you condescendingly, “But I thought you wanted me to help you decorate, isn’t that why you thought this all out? Well….think of it as your punishment for being such a little brat to your Alpha.” He chuckled at himself, falling down beside you as he tugged your face into his chest, whispering to you that you did good for him and looked absolutely gorgeous covered in his cum.
~~~~
Event Taglist (lmk if u want on, off, or changed ur user)
@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475 @stellasdelusions
#mattheo riddle x fem!reader#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle fic#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#smut#harry potter#hp#harry potter smut#harry potter fandom#fluff#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fluff#yn#hp fandom#smutmas#12 days of smutmas#smutmas 2023#alpha x omega#omegaverse#hp smut#mattheo riddle oneshot#alpha beta omega#marcus lopez smut#marcus lopez arguello#benjamin wadsworth#x reader
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aaaaa!!! you opened regina requests!! i love your work sm and im so glad abt this 😭 can i request regina x fem!reader where regina's had a really bad day and she just feels insecure about her body the moment she gets home and reader comforts her and eases her worries?? basically body worship fluff (or if you wanna make it more spicy, up to you!!) i trust your brain. tysmmm <33
She will be loved
Regina George x fem! reader
Warnings: MDNI, smut. Coarse language, insecurity about body image, angst, comfort/fluff
“You can speak of anger and doubts
Your fears and freak outs and I'll hold it
You can share your so called shame filled accounts
Of times in your life and I won't judge it”
Last night, you were on the phone with Regina and something seemed off so you gave her a video call. You were right, because she told you something had happened between her and her Mom. Which unfortunately wasn’t unusual, but so infuriating because you knew what happened. It was usually one of three things— what she ate, what she wore or her grades. Of course, those were the main…quote-unquote, problems. There were always more issues in June’s opinion than meets the eye.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
She looks at you, then away, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.
“Regina.” You insisted.
“No, I don’t. Not now, and not over a FaceTime call.”
“Okay.” You agreed, “Let me know when you’re ready. If you want to, I’ll come over, or I can pick you up.”
“Not tonight, I just— I just need to sleep this one off. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
The lack of a nickname addressing you at the end? This was one of her tells that she really wasn’t in the mood, or had the energy to talk. She needed alone time, to calm down and get rest. So you let her off the hook— you said good night to her and hung up. “Good night, I love you.” You said, smiling softly. She forced a smile, “Night.”
“See you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7:15.”
You were expecting school to be a little rough, and you were right. She was expecting the same too. “G, why do you always get cheese fries? The other options are not all bad.”
“Just not feeling those options, Gretch.”
Well, it was a genuine question. The school food was great here compared to what you had at your old school.
“Okay.” Gretchen stopped asking and went back to chatting with Karen. Meanwhile, Regina’s brows were knit together. She seemed to be thinking, but then also…started to seem like she was in distress. “Regina.” You said quietly, looking at her.
She took a deep breath, “I’m fine.” You didn’t buy it, she was already in a bit of a…bad mood after yesterday. Every little interaction like that, it only seemed to push her closer and closer to a breakdown. “I’ll be okay, y/n.” She insisted, “I got this.” No one else at the table noticed. Not Karen, not Gretchen…just you. Her voice was quivering, her eyes— shifty, and glossy. She wasn’t okay. “Do you wanna go home?”
“Home?” She bites back a scoff, “No, thanks.”
“To mine?” You clarified.
“No.” Regina shook her head, she went back to eating her food. You couldn’t help it but keep an eye on her. Why was it so damn hard for her to accept any help? To open up? To you of all people?
After lunch, there were three more classes left. You didn’t have the last two with her so you couldn’t exactly make sure she was alright. You could only hope.
“I’ll meet you at your locker after the last bell. okay?” You pecked her cheek.
“Okay, baby.” She smiles softly, then evidently biting the inside of her cheek before she turned to leave. You usually had no problem being away from her but when things got tough, you hated that. You would spend all day, everyday with her if you could. “Hey.” You hear Regina behind you as she tapped your shoulder. Turning around to face her, your greet, “Hi. Let’s go?”
She nodded silently as then took her hand in yours and walked out of school with her. Regina sits in the front with you, like she always does. Except she was just sitting there and staring into space— another bad thing. You had to get her out of that god awful place in her mind.
“Regina, you know this. We gotta talk about it.”
“What’s there that you don’t already know?” She asked, defeated.
You shut your bedroom door, gesturing for Regina to sit down. She does, letting out a sigh as she looked up at you. Her gaze follows you as you moved towards her and sat down in the spot beside her. “I’ll be fine, you know. Always happens, I just need to deal with it until it blows over.”
“What happened, Reg?”
She wanted to scoff but bit back, “Well, you know my mom.”
Of course.
“It’s the same thing, every time, y/n.” Regina replied through gritted teeth, the annoyance within her bubbling up to the surface. “Everytime. ‘Regina, maybe you shouldn’t wear that. It’s too tight, it doesn’t look good.’, ‘Regina, leave the cupcakes alone. You’ve had enough food for the day. We gotta watch what we eat’, ‘Regina, have you worked out today?’ I am so sick of it.”
You gazed into her eyes as she revealed all of that and more to you. “She’s been like this my whole life. Why am I still not used to it? Why am I still listening to what she says? I know it’s no good for me, but I just— I can’t stop thinking about what she’s been feeding my mind for the last eighteen years.”
You grabbed her hands and held them in yours, giving them a squeeze. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes…she was blinking profusely, trying to get rid of them, flustered. “It’s okay.” You assured.
She shook her head, sniffling.
“Regina.” You repeated, “It’s okay. Let it out. All of it.”
“When I was a kid, she used to make me finish my plate no matter what.” Regina exhaled shakily, “Then when I got older, I listened to my body, you know? I stopped eating when I was full but she’d tell me I was wasting food if I threw out what was left on my plate. I didn’t want her to get mad, so as pissed as I was, I finished my plate. I was pretty active, so it didn’t really affect me. Middle school, puberty happened. My body changed.”
Wiping away her tears quickly, she continued, “And I always held more weight somehow. Well then, you know what. My eating habits got bad and I’d go days at a time without eating. Then it was the opposite. Now I’ve just been trying to heal from all of that but she’s been making it hell for me and sometimes I cannot do anything but feel like shit for a few days then get back to normal. We’ve been together almost a year, we’re off to college next year. We’re going to be adults but I’m still plagued by childhood problems. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous.” You told her, leaning down to catch her gaze, “It’s not. You’ve been putting in a lot of effort to get better and anyone would be stupid to not see that.”
“Really?” She scoffs, “Even when I have days where I literally do nothing but cry about what she’s told me years ago, or do even worse things, because of her?”
“Yeah. Even then. It takes a lot of strength and courage to push through all that, and pick yourself back up. Which you do, every single time no matter how hard it gets.”
Her frame seemed less tense by the time she stopped talking. With your thumb brushing over her knuckles, you said, “Regina, I need you to remember that I’ll always be here for you. Not just for the good things, for anything. Tough, sad, infuriating. Anything at all. You are not alone. I’m your partner.”
She looks at you, tears welling up in her eyes again.
“I know it’s hard, I know why so you don’t have to keep explaining yourself. And I know it seems like I’m offering nothing but companionship. But that’s sort of what a partner is. I’m here, to keep you company. No matter what life throws at you.”
Another deep sigh falls from her lips before she goes, “Thank you.”
“I love you.”
A pink hue tinted her tear-stain cheek as she tried to hide a smile. “I love you so much.” You added on.
“I love you too.” She squeezed your hand in return.
“And you know I’d do anything for you.” You smiled while your hand rested on her thigh.
————
Regina tensed up slightly at that touch. A harsh exhale was heard from her as you smirked to yourself. “Anything…” Your finger traced her pale skin. You looked up, meeting her eyes once again. Regina had that look, she wanted this. She wanted you. “To prove it.”
“Do you want me to make you feel good, hm?” Your hand relocated onto her cheek, cupping her face. Like a switch has flipped, she immediately gave in to the temptation and nodded eagerly. Her eyes closed and you leaned in to capture her lips into your own. Fleeting kisses were swiftly followed by longer kisses…ones of desire. A whine slips from her mouth in the midst, sending a rush of heat that pooled between your own thighs. You’d back her up against the headboard, she sat with her legs naturally spread open while you straddled her, your knees on either side of her hips. You hands were grabbing her face, lips having never left hers since they latched on several minutes prior.
Regina whimpers this time. You chuckled, “You want more?” It was a little amusing to see her reduced to nothing but meek little noises when under your control. You loved it though, having slightly more dominance over her than typical. And well? She loves being beneath you, that’s for sure. Her head rolls back on reflex, inviting you to work her neck over. And expectedly, when you’ve hit a certain little spot, you’ve earned your first moan. Smiling to yourself, you continued your action until she got louder and squirmier. “Fuck.” She cursed.
Your hand moves down south, grabbing a handful of her breast without having to look. Regina panted, the air right by your ear tickled you and sent a shiver down your spine.
“Take it off.” She grumbled.
“As you wish, baby.” You smirked, reaching back underneath her shirt and unclipping her bra before you detach yourself from her and removed her shirt then got the bra out of the way. Your lips resume its work along her neck, your fingers play with her tit on one hand. You tug on the teat, and she gives you a pretty high pitched moan. “Does that feel good, honey?”
“Yeah—” She says, you didn’t even let her finish that word before you pinched that hardening tip between your fingers. “Shit.” You climb off her, pulling her pants down on the way after getting a hurried nod of approval from her. Settling yourself down between her legs on the mattress, you wasted no time and ran your tongue up and down her slit. Already, she was breathing heavily and you saw her groping her own tits for more stimulation.
“Don’t be shy, now.” You chuckled, thumb moving to rub her clit at the same time your mouth worked. Regina flinches, a muffled noise comes from her. “Don’t hold back, Regina.” Your free hand massaged her thigh, “I want to hear you, baby. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”
The strokes of your tongue quickened, becoming firmer and more purposeful. Your hand on her clit then shifts and you instead slide two fingers inside her. Regina gasps, and flinches. Her leg moves out of position slightly but it remained that way, her body gradually getting overcome by increasing pleasure. You two digits pumped in and out of her at a leisurely but consistent pace, making sure you hit her g-spot everytime. That, sends a shock through her body without fail, making her head spin in pleasure. You feel her fingers combing through your hair roughly, keeping your head in place. Your brows were raised briefly but you carried on, “Fuck, right there— right there—” Regina whimpered, strained. “Don’t stop—”
“Mmkay, baby.” You hummed, keeping at this exact pace and place for awhile. You feel her wetness on your chin, but you couldn’t care less. You were lost in the moment, feeling her writhing beneath you, hearing her making all those noises for you. You were drawn to her like moths to a flame, your only priority now was making her feel good and making her come, worshipping this beautiful body of hers. Worshipping every single inch of her.
“You’re so beautiful.” Your mouth and fingers left her entirely, then you clambered back up to meet her face. “You’re my beautiful girl, aren’t you, Regina?” Brushing her cheek, you gave her a smile as you broke away from the kiss. You pulled her down carefully so she now laid on her back, you reattach your lips to the spot on her neck and started to kiss your way downwards…covering every bit of her exposed skin with a smooch. “Fuck—” She whined, “F—I need you, I need you. y/n—”
“Answer the question, Regina.” You smirked, fondling her tits while hovering over her. She kept quiet so you grabbed at the flesh harder, forcing the lewd noises out of her mouth, followed by impatient nods, “Y—yes— yes— oh, fuck—”
“I’ll be right back.” Kissing her once more, you got off her and then the bed.
“Baby, come on.” She grumbled.
“Just getting the strap, babe.” You winked, “Be patient~”
Regina exhales exasperatedly, looking at you while you walk to your closet and put on the harness behind its door. You’ve gotten her all hot and bothered already and you were absolutely enjoying yourself at this moment. “Open up, baby.” You tapped her thigh and she did as you told her to. Dragging the tip of the shaft along her throbbing cunt, the whining and whimpering from her resumes. “Aw.” You teased, “Are you ready, darling?”
“Yes— yes— oh my God…” She swallowed thickly, nodding her head while she kept looking at you. She knew you would ask for eye contact, so she did it first.
“Please, do it, please.” Regina pleaded desperately.
“Oh, good girl.” You smiled cheekily, lining up the tip of the shaft with her entrance. You were swift, pushing into her before she could say anything. All you heard was a low moan when you entered her and gradually bottomed out. “You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, yeah, I am.” She replied in a whisper, unintentionally whimpering at the end. You retracted and pushed into her more forcefully, a whimper just erupts from her throat like that. Hearing her just spurs you on, you went faster and faster, plus her noises matched up with your movements. It quite literally feels as though you were ascending into a whole new dimension. The noise of both your skin hitting each other’s, combined with the wetness? Whatever it was, it was obscene and had you weak in the knees. But, you persisted. Your hand was on her knee, pushing that leg of hers up as you continued railing to her. She was babbling…curse words, your name, incoherent noises. Goddamn. Her mind was one clouded mess, miles away by now.
When Regina’s back arched off the mattress, she exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!”
You looked at her, slightly worried, “You okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“No, no, no, no, no, no.” She gasped, “Don’t— don’t stop. That feels so fucking good, baby. Keep going— I’m so close— so close—”
“Alright~” You smiled, relieved and eager, “Don’t hold back, Regina.” You resumed your consistent motion of impaling her, watching her face contort, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She babbled in a daze. “Let it all go, Reg. Let it all go.”
“God, you’re insane…” She panted, breathless.
“You’re the one gushing now and I’m barely doing anything anymore.” You retorted.
“God, keep going.”
“What?”
“I want more, keep going.” Her voice was airy, soft. “Keep going?”
You nodded, giving her what she wanted and completely disregarding the state of your sheets. “Oh, you’re so hot, baby.”
“Fuck’s sake.” Regina chewed on her lower lip, “I— I need your mouth— God, fuck—”
Once again, you went along with her happily, pulling out of her then promptly diving back into her cunt, tasting every last drop of her. And yet, she just kept spilling into your mouth. At this point? You couldn’t care less if you drowned. “Damn.” You chuckled, “How far can you go?”
“Push me.” She ordered.
“Well, since you asked…” You shoved your fingers back inside her, assaulting her sensitive spot while lapping her up without complaints.
Somehow, her pitch got higher, making you giddy. You feel her tightening around your fingers rapidly, and you kept going to push her over the edge again. She came, and she came hard. She even backed away a little, so you immediately stopped. That was it, she didn’t want more and you knew. It’d been discussed— if she backs away like that, you’d stopped.
With a tentative hand on her thigh, you shushed her, trying to help her find her breath again. “You’re okay, I got you. You’re okay.”
She nodded, “I know, I know. Oh— my God, I love you.” Hiding her face in her hands to hide the blushing, you brushed her hands away when you crawled back up to lay down next to her. “Look at me.” You held her face in your hand, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She does, and you continue, “I love you. sometimes your mind’s gonna try to convince you otherwise…but, I really, really do. I love you so fucking much and I never want you to forget that.”
“After all of that? I won’t ever be able to get you out of my mind.” She jokes, her usual smirk on her face.
“I mean it. I love everything about you, every little bit of you. Just like you do me. You are perfect the way you are.”
Regina kisses you back, snuggling closer to you. “I know you do, and I promise. No more of that ‘keeping things to myself’ next time…I’ll try my best to talk about it, with you, or with a therapist.”
“And if you ever need to get away from your house, please don’t hesitate to come over to my place. Please. Come over here yourself, or call me, or text me. Anything.”
“Roger that.” She smiled just slightly, which turned into a smirk. “Also, you are freakishly good at whatever that was. Never came this hard in my life.”
“Well, you also did more than that, but…anything for you, eh?” Your fingers traced along her arm. Regina chuckles, “Oh, I’m just as shocked as you are. Sorry about the mess.”
“I’m not sorry, Reg. They’re just sheets.” You laughed, rubbing her back. “You wanna take a shower? Freshen up?”
“That sounds nice, sure.”
“Alright.” You got up first, then pulled her up, “Let’s go.” She smacks you on the ass while you walk ahead of her, entering the ensuite bathroom first. You gasped, “Regina.”
“I think, it’s only fair that you get your turn too now.” She whispers into your ear, sending a chill down your back. “Do you want that, baby girl?”
🏷️Tag list:
@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128
💭A/N:
So…my first Regina x reader smut 🫣
#renee rapp#regina george#mean girls 2024#mgmm fics#regina george x reader#x reader#reader imagine#reader insert#gxg#wlw#character x reader#queer fiction#comfort fic#fluff#angst#mature topics#anon requested#lgbtqia#queer fluff#mixed genres#queer#lesbian#thanks anon
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romance at mistletoe inn
member | seungcheol x reader genre | smut, some fluff word count | ~4,600 warnings | reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex, very very soft dom!cheol, sub!reader, wap reader, monster cock cheol, like seriously his dick is BIG, size kink (it comes with the territory wbk), strength kink (?), oral (m receiving), oral (reader receiving), grinding, deepthroating, motorboating, praise, slight manhandling, creampie (they don't talk about reader taking birth control so PLEASE do not be like them irl), cursing, cheol is Whipped, they hold hands :(, teeny bit of aftercare oops sorry, reader's mom accidentally cockblocks, please ignore that the plot actually makes Zero sense this is just pure sex atp notes | this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called mistletoe inn! however, this can be read as a stand alone, you don't have to have read the other part to know what's going on here. for the heathen @onlymingyus. i hope you enjoy. p.s. thanks to @duhnova @heartkyeom for making me insane while i wrote this. i know i say this every time but this time i mean it when i say this is definitely the filthiest thing i have ever written - 💒 june
a knock on cheol’s door brings him out of the book he’s reading. it’s late in the evening and it hasn’t stopped snowing all day, leaving everyone at the inn snowed in. at least for the next day or so until the city snow plow comes around. he slides a bookmark into the pages and sets it on his nightstand, grinning as he walks towards the door.
as it usually is every winter, the inn is practically empty, except for one guest. it’s a small town, and people don’t come to stay unless they’re visiting friends or family.
cheol’s really enjoyed talking with you the last few days. he’s learned that you came to surprise your parents, but they’d actually left town without telling you to spend their christmas in hawaii, leaving you alone in a city where you don’t know anyone.
he doesn’t mind being your friend for the week you’re here– in fact, he loves it. you’re great company, and after a little not-so-subtle prying he’s also learned you’re single. with your work less than an hour away by plane, the distance isn’t bad, and if he’s been reading the situation right, he’s hoping you might feel the same. it’s been too long since he’s taken a break, since he’s traveled out of the little town he’s lived in all his life. maybe it’s time to pass the inn along to someone else in his family. but for now, one step at a time.
of course, it’s you standing on the other side of the door. he can’t help the way his face lights up when he sees you. “hey, what’s up?”
you smile back shyly. “just bored. are… are you busy?”
he grins. “not anymore.”
“do you maybe, wanna, come to my room?” you ask. “i made cocoa.”
“of course i would,” he says, shutting his door with a quiet squeak.
fifteen minutes later the cocoa is long forgotten as you desperately press your lips against seungcheol’s, hands roaming everywhere across each others’ bodies.
you’re suddenly very grateful that you packed your nice pair of panties for a trip that was supposed to be for visiting your parents. and you’re also very grateful that you wore them tonight, just in case.
the muscles in his shoulders flex as he yanks his shirt up and off with one swift movement. you watch, until his hands are back on you, whining as he pulls on the hem of your sweater. you giggle and lift your arms so he can help you tug it over your head.
“can i?” he breathes, reaching for your bra, his gaze fixated on your chest.
you nod, and strong arms wrap around you, carefully unhooking your bra behind your back. you hold the fabric in place with your hands as his fingers tenderly slip the straps down your shoulders.
when you finally let go, allowing the material to fall to the floor, seungcheol inhales sharply. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he rasps.
he looks up at you for permission, and you smile. hands still clasped behind your back, he pulls you over to the chair by the couch, sitting down so his face is level with your chest.
his hands glide over your skin, pushing your breasts together and shoving his face in between them with a groan that reverberates in your ribcage. you moan and he lets go, hands skating down your sides to rest at your hips as he leaves wet kisses along the curve of your boobs.
your fingers find his head, weaving up through his hair. he shakes his head back and forth and his hands grab at your ass, roughly kneading the skin. his mouth moves to one of your nipples, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.
his lips leave your breast with a pop, half-lidded eyes looking almost drunk with pleasure. you shimmy out of your pants, throwing them out of the way but keeping your panties on.
cheol’s eyes widen and his hands fumble to remove his own jeans, shaking as he slides them down his muscular legs.
you sink down onto your knees, settling between his legs. he groans when you look up at him with wide eyes, tentative hands resting on his thighs. god, his thighs… just one is probably bigger than your entire head.
your fingers dance at the band of his underwear, nervously toying with the elastic but not going any further yet. he’s only half-hard beneath the fabric, but you can already tell he’s big, way bigger than you’re used to.
you must’ve paused for too long, because he reaches down to cup your cheek, bringing your gaze back up to his. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asks gently, his voice breathy and low.
your cheeks heat up, not used to hearing that pet name on his lips. “um, you’re just, uh… big,” you squeak out, a little embarrassed to admit to him.
his expression softens, relieved that he hasn’t done anything to hurt you (yet). “you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, his tone lightening a bit.
immediately you shake your head, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “i want to,” you say sincerely. “just– don’t know if i can.”
he smiles like you’ve just told him he won the lottery– and with you, he might as well have. “we’ll go slow,” he promises.
you exhale and gently tug at his underwear, finally releasing his cock. it’s big, like you expected, and covered in pretty veins. you wrap your hand around him, but he’s so big, your thumb and index finger aren’t even close to touching. so you add your other hand, completely gripping him, and he moans at the sight of his cock resting in your tiny hands.
you’re just about to put your lips around his tip when you hear your ringtone go off. you whine in annoyance at being interrupted and move your head away from him, taking your hands off of his cock and laying them on his thighs.
“who is it?” you ask, nodding up at your phone on the table next to seungcheol.
he groans at the loss, but leans over to check your phone for you. “uh, it’s ‘mom’?”
you whine and reach out your hand. “give it here.”
“baby, please,” he grumbles, handing it down to you.
“i’ll be quick,” you whisper before accepting the call. he pouts and leans his head back against the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling.
“hi mom,” you say into the phone, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intend.
“hi sweetie! how’s your trip going so far? sorry again that we missed you,” she starts, and you know you’re in for a long phone call. the woman could talk for hours, days even, and now is definitely not the time.
when you look up, seungcheol is staring at you again, a mischievous grin on his face. he puts a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet, then hooks his arms under you to help you stand. his hands slide to your hips, guiding and pulling you down onto his lap.
“mom, i’m– a little busy right now,” you choke out, trying your damn hardest to keep your voice steady with cheol’s hands on you.
“oh?” the surprise is evident in your mother’s voice. “i thought you didn’t have any plans? did you find something fun to do? you better not be working on work, i told you you’ve been needing a vacation for way too long! your boss can have whatever it is in the new year, you–”
cheol grips you tightly, rolling your hips against his dick, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. he looks up at you, wordlessly asking if you want him to stop.
you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. as much as it mortifies you fooling around while you’re literally on the phone with your own mother, the thrill of being caught only turns you on even more.
“no, mom, i’m not working, but i am– busy,” you interrupt.
“well, do you want me to call back in a bit?” you can hear the frown in her voice, the tone she gets when she knows you’re lying.
“no!” you cry out as your clit rubs against the head of seungcheol’s cock, giving you a jolt of pleasure. “i–mean, i’ll call you later. when i’m done,” you recover, hoping to god she hasn’t noticed anything off about you.
“sweetie… are you at the gym?” she questions, and you breathe a sigh of relief that it doesn’t seem like she’s caught on to what you’re really doing. “i’m so proud of you, honey, i know you’ve been trying to do that more lately! well, i’ll leave you be then. have a good workout!”
well, you will be having a workout today… just not the kind she’s thinking of.
“th-thanks,” you stutter. suddenly cheol thrusts hard against you, and the movement makes you lose your balance and fall forward a little. you catch yourself on him, your hand flat against his firm chest. “bye, mom.”
“bye, sweetie! have fun!”
he shoots you a satisfied smirk and you sit back as you fumble to hang up as fast as you can, tossing your phone on the carpet behind you and climbing back down onto your knees.
you finally wrap your lips around him, fingernails gripping his thighs as you struggle to take him in your mouth. not only is he long, but he’s girthy, and you have to stretch your mouth open wide to fit him in. even then, you can’t fit all of him, so you put both hands back around the base of his cock where your mouth can’t reach and you begin slowly bobbing up and down, swirling your tongue around him.
his hips buck up roughly into your mouth and instantly tears prick at your eyes. “sorry,” he moans, but you just shake your head and keep going. he grips down hard on the armrests of the chair to stop himself from moving.
you can feel him hitting the back of your throat with every move and you know your mouth is gonna hurt like a bitch later, but the almost melodic sound of his moans is enough to make you want to have his dick in your mouth forever. knowing that it’s you making him feel like this could give you enough energy to suck him off for days on end.
your abdomen throbs with neglect, but the weight of his cock in your mouth is too good to stop. if you didn’t literally need both hands to fit all the way around him, you would’ve already started touching yourself, but both your hands are… occupied elsewhere.
desperate for any kind of stimulation, you press your thighs together, shifting to rub them against each other. at the angle you’re kneeling you can feel the thin fabric of your panties pressing against your pussy, and you buck your hips, trying to get the lace to give you what you want.
but it’s nowhere near enough, and seungcheol notices when you whine frustratedly around his cock, eyes squeezed shut and hands shaking. he grips your head carefully, pulling you off of him with a groan.
you look up at him with watery eyes and he takes in the sight, your mascara smeared and running down your cheeks and your eyes red and wet from choking around him for so long.
“can i eat you out? please?” he practically begs, breathing heavily.
“o-okay,” you rasp, the words coming out hoarse.
his eyebrows furrow as he catches his breath. he’d tried so hard not to go rough on you, to stop himself from fucking your throat. it’s only your first time with him, and he really, really hopes it won’t be the last, so he’s mentally kicking himself for losing control.
you see his worried expression, so you cough, trying to clear your throat. “i’m fine,” you reassure him, voice a little less coarse than before but still more than he would’ve liked.
“are you sure?” he asks cautiously.
“mhm. please,” you whimper.
he smiles and wraps his arms around you, helping you stand. your knees crack and he looks concerned again, but you shake your head. “just sore from kneeling. don’t worry.”
you give him a reassuring look, and he finally relents. suddenly he lifts you with terrifying ease, carrying you across the room to toss you onto the bed like nothing.
he climbs on top of you, his face hovering over your lower half.
“you gonna give me a few, baby?” he asks, his tone saccharine sweet. “gotta prep you enough.”
you croak out a yes, watching his movements with vigilance as his calloused fingertips play with the delicate hem of your panties, teasing.
but he doesn’t move any further, just stares up at you through his eyelashes, and you assume he’s waiting for you to say something.
“p-please?” you sniffle, thinking maybe he wants you to beg him for it. and he does, and you would, but you both know that’s for another time.
he presses a light kiss to your cunt over the fabric, moaning into your skin. “god, you’re so good for me, baby. gonna give you everything you want.”
as much as he wants to rip your pretty little underwear off your body and eat you out like his last meal, he knows he has to start slow, give you both a chance to get used to what the other likes instead of jumping straight into the deep end.
so he keeps his eyes locked with yours as he slips the lacy fabric down your hips, carefully so as not to tear them by accident.
you’re embarrassingly wet from nothing at all, your panties completely soaked through. a thin string of your arousal connects from your cunt to the fabric, and he groans lowly, watching it break.
his gentleness is unbelievably hot, and you can’t deny that him being so deliberate with taking them off makes you want to let him rip them off of you in a heartbeat. so what if they’re your favorite pair? you’d buy ten pairs to replace them if you have to.
you lift your legs, helping him slide your panties off so he can toss them away. he settles back down and tenderly pries your thighs apart, setting each leg to the side and leaving you wide open for him. he stares at your pussy for a moment, glistening with wetness. his intense, focused attention on you makes you gush, your muscles clenching around nothing as he watches enraptured. using two fingers he spreads your folds apart, exposing your dripping hole to his fervent gaze.
“cheol,” you mewl out his name in desperation.
“‘m right here, baby,” he says, his eyes flicking up to your face for a second to make sure you’re okay. you nod, silently begging him to continue. he cups your pussy, and the feeling of sheer size as his massive hand envelopes you is enough to send a shiver down your spine.
automatically your hips buck into his hand, grinding against his palm as you toss your head back and forth against the pillows, grateful to finally feel some relief.
he coos and you throw your arm over your face in embarrassment at his reaction, sheepish about being so desperate for a man you only met a couple of days ago. but his response isn’t to tease you or degrade you, but to admire you. so needy, so beautiful. and for right now, all his.
his hand still cupped against you, he slowly slips his ring and middle finger into your hole, letting out a pleased hum when you immediately clench around him.
“so wet for me, baby,” he sighs, gently curling his fingers inside you but otherwise keeping them still to let you adjust. “you’re so fucking sexy.”
you whimper, and he removes his fingers, seeing you’re ready for him to give you what he promised. even after being inside you for only a few seconds his fingers are soaked, completely coated in your juices. he looks up at you to see if you’re still comfortable with everything he’s doing, and when you open your mouth without hesitating even for a second, he thinks he might cum on the spot.
“so well behaved,” he praises, pushing his fingers into your waiting mouth. you close your lips around them eagerly, sucking yourself off of him in earnest.
you sigh when he pulls them out again, moving back down to sit between your still-open legs. he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of both your thighs before pushing his face into your waiting pussy.
when his mouth first makes contact with your cunt, you let out a high whine, back arching off the bed in pleasure. his lips completely surround your swollen clit, and your hand flies down to his head, gripping his hair as your hips writhe against his face.
his tongue is everywhere, gliding over every inch of you, licking and sucking and working you towards your orgasm impossibly fast. you can feel your clit throbbing in his mouth, and your breath hitches when he grazes his teeth over it, making you jolt.
his hands loop around your hips, spreading the skin and forcing you open so he has better access to your cunt.
heat pools in your stomach and you feel the familiar burn start to build in between your legs. “co-coming,” you gasp. “cheol, i’m–”
he groans into your cunt in response, sending waves throughout your body.
you sneak a glance down at him. his eyes are squeezed shut as he devours you, fucking you with his tongue with the most blissful look on his face, as if there isn’t anywhere in the world he would rather be right now than with his face buried in your pussy and your thighs trembling around his head.
the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge, muscles contracting and fingers grabbing desperately at the sheets to ground you as you stumble into your orgasm.
your whines stick in your throat as you gasp for breath, vision going white as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. no vibrator on earth could compare to the way seungcheol feels between your legs— and you’ve got quite the collection of toys back at home.
he keeps sucking, carrying you through your orgasm until you flop back on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. he finally pulls off of you for just a second, catching his own breath.
“god, can’t wait to get my cock in you,” he murmurs before diving back in, barely giving you time to recover before he’s building you back up for another.
you sob out his name as his tongue slips inside your hole and back out, dragging up and down your folds and spreading your juices everywhere. you can feel it dripping down your thighs and onto the comforter below.
“coming, coming, please, cheol, please, i–” you pant, struggling for words.
instinctively your legs snap shut around his head, trying to hold him in place, but he easily pries them apart again as you hurtle towards another orgasm. you cum on his tongue, again, sobbing his name like it’s the only word you know.
when he finally decides you’re ready to take his cock, you’re nothing short of a mess. pretty face smeared with makeup and tears, pretty cunt smeared with cum and saliva. he sits back on his heels, admiring how you look. your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving as you gasp for air, and he thinks he hasn’t seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
“you okay, baby?” he hums, massaging your thigh.
a weak “yes” is all you can manage. he runs a hand over your skin soothingly, this time giving you plenty of time to recover.
when you’ve finally caught your breath enough to sit up, he’s still watching you cautiously.
“all right?” he asks, and you nod. “if you’re done, we don’t have to keep going…” he starts, but you stop him, shaking your head.
“i told you before, i want to,” you say, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his.
he smiles, and you lay back down, pulling him on top of you. he adjusts back in between your legs, positioning himself at the entrance of your pussy. he drags his cock through your folds, collecting what’s left of his frantic makeout session from earlier and spreading it over his length, using it as lubrication.
still holding your hand, he starts to press into you, just barely the tip. you gasp as he keeps going, carefully pushing inch after inch into your tight hole.
you squeeze his hand and he freezes, not even halfway inside yet. “okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your hand with his thumb.
“yeah, just– one second, please,” you stutter, breathing hard.
he wants to kiss you, so badly, but he can’t bend over without moving and hurting you. so he settles for bringing your entwined hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.
the new feeling subsides, the pain of being split open beginning to lessen as you adjust to his size.
“you can… keep going,” you exhale softly.
he nods and starts to push in again, stuffing you full. it takes a while, but when finally he bottoms out, you both let out moans: him at the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him, and you at the feeling of being so full in the best ways.
after staying still to give you more time to adjust, he begins to pick up the pace, starting slowly and gradually building up until he’s pounding into you.
your back slides up and down the bed, each thrust sending you closer and closer to the wall above your head. attentive as ever, cheol notices, and stills his hips for just a second so he can grab your waist with both hands and yank you down away from the headboard. you yelp and clutch at his back, holding on for dear life as he continues pounding into you.
the bed squeaks with each thrust, and for a split second you worry about breaking the bedframe and having to pay for the damage. but then seungcheol is brushing your hair out of your face and cradling your head between his forearms, and all the thoughts in your head disappear when he stares into your eyes, your faces inches apart.
“can i– kiss you?” he groans, his eyelashes fluttering.
“please, ch-cheol,” you gasp. your hands claw at his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer.
he leans down, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours, somehow too gentle and too rough at the same time. your senses seem to explode, so much happening at once, and you move your hands up to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tug, pushing him to kiss you deeper.
he moans into you, a deep, rumbling sound you feel all the way in the pit of your stomach. his thrusts get rougher and rougher, and you know he’s getting close. he pulls his lips off of you with a gasp. “whe–where do you want me to–”
“inside,” you plead, your voice coming out throaty. “please, cheol, inside, please–”
he cuts you off and captures your lips again, moaning into your mouth. his hips continue to rut into you desperately and you can only hold on, coming closer and closer to your own orgasm.
you can feel him throb deep in your abdomen, the tip of his cock kissing your walls with each snap of his hips. he shifts slightly and suddenly he’s fucking you like you’ve never felt before. the new angle has you seeing stars, and you clench around him, letting out a choked sob as you come undone on his cock.
your hoarse voice crying out his name over and over again while you quiver in his arms is too much for him, and with a guttural moan he lets go, his own orgasm washing over him and flooding your insides with his cum.
his hips begin to slow, rocking into you with a lazy rhythm as you both come down from your highs. his arms still surround either side of your head, and he moves his wrist to brush your hair out of your face. your hair is sticky with sweat and your eyes are puffy from crying, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle to catch your breath.
cheol lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest but careful not to put his full weight on you, letting you cockwarm him for a while. you’re both exhausted and you just lay there together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
but as much as you never want the moment to end, you can feel his cum leaking out of you, and you know you probably look like a horrible mess. you whine and push weakly at his shoulders, making him sit up quickly in concern.
“could you… in my bag,” you mumble, pointing a shaky hand towards your cosmetic bag. “m-makeup wipes.”
he slides off of you, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before crossing the room to grab them for you. you stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what just happened.
“here,” cheol says softly, handing you the wipes. you give him a faint smile and prop yourself up on your elbows. you wince when you sit back on your tailbone, sore from how hard seungcheol had fucked you.
he sits at the edge of the bed and gives you an apologetic pout, knowing it’s mostly his fault. “do you… need anything?” he asks shyly, not sure what you need him to do.
“stay?” you ask, voice small. “gonna have to shower, and i’ll– um, need help,” you finish. there’s no chance you’ll be able to walk straight for at least the next few hours, let alone stand in the shower by yourself.
he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh, rubbing at the bruises that have started to form there. “i’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
you scrub at your face, getting the last of the mascara off your cheeks before tossing the dirtied wipe into the trash can by the nightstand.
with a bit of effort, you manage to throw your legs over the side of the bed, sitting at the edge. you glance behind you at the bed covered in both of your fluids, and you wince, knowing most of it is your fault. “sorry about the sheets,” you whisper, resisting the urge to hide your face in embarrassment.
“baby, we’ll wash them,” he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”
“okay,” you say quietly. you look over to cheol, still sitting beside you, and reach out with both hands for him to help you up.
he jumps up, taking your hands and tugging you to your feet. your legs wobble when you stand, and he slides his arm around your waist to support you as he helps walk you to the bathroom.
you flop down onto the toilet while seungcheol starts the shower, and you have to hold back a laugh at the sight. the buff, sexy innkeeper, butt-ass naked in your bathroom, leaning over the edge of the tub to test the water temperature and make sure it’s not too hot for you.
you know you’re only here for a week, but you could really get used to this.
taglist | @shuatm @yeosayang @noniestars @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @kimy3na @candidupped @berrryshortcake @tinkerbell460 @haraethx @iheartyeonnnnn @mxnghao8
#💒 june#1k#svthub#scoups smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#seungcheol smut#scoups imagines#svt imagines#scoups scenarios#svt scenarios#scoups x reader#scoups x y/n#scoups x you#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seventeen fic#svt fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios
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How Our Seeds Grow (Pt. 2)
Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates & young!GN!Reader
Main|First|Next
Warnings: Emotional distress, a very naked snail, and minor blood.
Ah! Almost forgot, for those that asked to be tagged: @iggy5055 @badluckinfrench (idk why it won't let me tag you bro, sorry, the minute I got to the 'f' it said no)
Word Count: 2,248
You’d never really considered what you’d do if you did ever run afoul of pirates. The other marines were usually quite good at keeping any real threat far from you, often by bodily tossing you to someone else. And you didn’t know if this was the usual fate of a marine caught by pirates either. It sure didn’t seem like it, but none of the pirates thought it was weird, so what did you know?
You were seated in a medical bay on board their ship clutching the hem of your shirt anxiously. You weren’t injured anymore but dried blood was still smeared over your face and collar. Nose a little stuffed up.
A man with a blue mask over half his face and a kind smile gently wiped your face off with a wet rag as he asked questions. Pheonix taking notes on a clipboard with a pleasant but vaguely fake smile. It didn’t even hurt, the damp, warm fabric just removing any leftover blood from your broken nose. When he was done, he pulled out a few tissues.
“Have you had any shots? Blow your nose into this and we’re done with that—” Deuce ordered softly, holding the tissues over your nose firmly as you followed his instructions.
“Nnn—I don’t know? I think so?” You whined, ears popping as your nose itched, now free of any leftover blood. Deuce winced and tossed the tissues away, wiping your face clean one last time. You rubbed your nose, wrinkling it with a grimace as the sensation faded. “…thanks.” You mumbled, still unsure about what you’re supposed to do.
You certainly couldn’t run. Where would you go? The ship had left port a few minutes ago and until that point you'd been carried or had a hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t call for help, the fight with Fire Fist was loud enough that anyone who could hear would have already shown up. And you definitely couldn’t fight.
Deuce smiled softly, patting your head.
“That’s alright, kid. We can figure out the rest later.” He reassured you. “What do you like to do? We’ve got a lot of stuff on the Moby Dick for all sorts of hobbies. And plenty of people willing to teach you if you don’t know how to do them.” He kneeled down so he was looking up at you, no longer towering over you despite sitting on an exam table.
You swallowed hard, wringing your shirt in uncertainty.
“I-I’m a marine? I don’t got time for hobbies. I clean or I train or I go on patrols.” You explained lamely. You’d seen some marines do things in their downtime. Like knit or read. Some gambled. But you’d always been kept busy and unable to really get to know the others on any base you were stationed at.
Deuce’s expression fell, Pheonix keeping his gaze fixed on the clipboard in his hands—but he gripped it hard enough you could hear the whine of the board under stress. Deuce cleared his throat, smile returning.
“Well! I guess that just means you get to try everything! You’re too young for any serious training.” Deuce explained cheerfully, tapping your nose.
“Bring-ring. Bring-ring. Bring-clack!” your snail called out as you scrambled to answer quickly, pulling him free from your pocket.
“H-Hello! E—”
“Where are you?! Ensign Williams was found passed out in the marketplace! It was supposed to be a simple patrol—you can’t just go running off because you feel like it!” Someone you think you recognized as the base captain’s assistant shrieked, tears pricking your eyes as you cleared your throat.
“U-Uhm… we were on patrol when my partner and I got orders to confront Fire Fist and to run if he was accompanied by another Whitebeard Pirate. W-Williams was beaten and… the Pheonix took me?” You mumbled, face red as you refused to look up.
“What?! Who the fuck gave that order—Never mind! You need to return to base immediately for punitive assignment, ensign!” You sniffed, tears falling as you impulsively choked out a strained cry,
“How?!” you sobbed anxiously as the snail was plucked from your hands. Through foggy glasses, you saw it was Pheonix but his expression was blurred.
“No.” Pheonix stated simply, his voice hard as you rubbed your eyes. “They won’t be returning, period. So, consider this their resignation.” Your chest tightened while Deuce rubbed your back, whispering into your ear.
“Easy, kid. You’re not in trouble—we won’t let them have you back, I promise.”
“But I gotta!” You whined, Deuce tutting as he pulled down your hands to wipe your face with the rag.
“No, no, no, you really don’t. It’s not your fault, alright?”
“ON WHO’S ORDERS?!” the vaguely familiar voice screeched.
“Ours.” There was a crunch of metal and a hand gently opened your palm. The snail’s firm weight notably lighter. You pulled back from Deuce’s attempt to clean your face, clumsily putting your glasses back to look.
The snail, a pleasant crème color, was missing his standard issue shell. Visibly shaking from either fright or a chill.
“O-Oh no, Cream, you’re naked!” You cried in despair, Deuce choking out a laugh. You jerked, remembering suddenly that you weren’t allowed to name the snails or get attached.
Pheonix kneeled down and stroked your cheek fondly. That familiar sensation of bated breath and birdsong in your chest almost reassuring in it’s intensity.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got some spare shells in storage. None that let you make calls though.” He reassured you as you placed your hand over Cream’s naked back. He looked a little relieved, ducking his head as much as he could in the small space you provided. “Think you can clean up the rest on your own? Ace should have found spare clothes by now.”
You sniffled.
“I-I have to wear a uniform though…” You objected. “It’s mine.”
Just about the only thing you did own, actually, besides pet treats. Even Cream was actually the base’s snail.
Pheonix’s expression twisted again into something sad and deeply troubled as he glanced over your uniform.
“Well… I doubt we can take off the letters, so the hat has to go… but you can keep this. How does that sound? We’ll get you new clothes soon.” Pheonix reassured you while gently tugging the blue fabric free from your shirt collar. He moved your hand and placed it over Cream with a soft smile.
You ducked your head shyly.
“…alright.”
Fire Fist trampled into the room with a bundle of clothes in his arms.
“Found it! A little big but these should fit just fine!” Fire Fist declared as he handed you the bundle, wrinkling his nose at the very naked Cream. “Uh, why’s the snail naked?”
Cream ducked under the blue fabric, skin turning a soft pink hue.
“Hey! Don’t be mean, he’s shy!” you protested before thinking better of it, though rather than take offense, Fire Fist held up his hands and laughed.
“Sorry, sorry! I just never see these guys without a shell—what happened?”
“Run along now, baby bird. Deuce will show you where to clean up while we help fit… Cream with a new shell.” Pheonix helped you off the table and picked up Cream with a slightly embarrassed look. Fire Fist almost asked again, it was clear on his face, but Pheonix glared and it was dropped. Deuce gently pushing you out of the room and towards a private bathroom.
“Take your time, alright kiddo?” Deuce told you softly as he closed the door, letting you have privacy. It was a modest bathroom and you took full advantage. Having the chance to take your time not something you’ve been afforded for a while since the bases have shared bathing areas and your partners were rarely patient enough to wait for long.
It felt weird not getting dressed in a clean uniform. The old one ripped up and dirtied from the marketplace. Your alternative a baggy white shirt with Whitebeard’s jolly roger and shorts that tied at the waist. You looked at the blue neckerchief that Pheonix was allowing you to keep, considering where to where it. The shirt didn’t have a collar to tie it around. Your wrists were too thin unless you wrapped your forearm. It was thankfully clean despite your bloodied nose.
After a long moment, you looked at the mirror.
You looked tired. Eyes red from crying behind your broken glasses but otherwise clean.
It felt wrong to wear this anywhere but your neck.
Decisively, you tied it around your neck like a bandana, pleased to find that you could pull it up over your chin easily. It wasn’t too tight or loose, the weight reassuring in the absence of the layered uniform collar.
Sadly, you folded up your old uniform and held it to your chest. Standing before the door as your heart raced. You weren’t sure why they decided to take you with them and the sudden change in routine was frightening—something you reluctantly admitted to yourself as you stared at the bathroom door.
They were nice but… if you could, you’d go back to the base right that minute. Even if it meant being given chores as punishment for ‘running away’. At least you knew what to expect on base. This pirate ship was a whole new situation though.
There was a yip from the other side of the door and nails scratching the wood.
“Hey! Don’t rush them, Stefan! Let the poor kid take their time.” Fire Fist chastised Stefan softly, a low whine echoing with a few, last petulant drags of nails on wood.
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, still clinging to your old uniform with your eyes fixed to the floor.
“…hi.”
There was a shift of fabric and boots as suddenly Fire Fist squatted down low with a soft smile.
“Hey, kiddo. You alright? Nice bandana, it looks good on you.” He remarked, an almost understanding look in his eyes. Your chest ached and you shook your head before thinking better of it.
“I-I wanna go back. I-I’m going to be in so much trouble…” You whimpered thickly, tears quick to flood your cheeks. There was a flash of a grimace on Fire Fist’s face as he scooped you up, Stefan managing a single lick to your shin.
Fire Fist felt warm and bubbly. A soothing heat like a sun bathed rock on a beach that hugged you close. Hand brushing over your back.
“No, you’re not, c’mon now, no more tears. You can’t be crying into your food—the chef didn’t put teary stew on the menu! It’s not Thatch’s cooking but it’s still pretty good.” Fire Fist soothed you with a soft bounce to his step. “If this is about that uniform, I promise we’ll get you something way better soon! Haven’t you ever wanted to wear something else? Anything else? Whatever you want, you can have, I promise! Cheer up!”
Even through your tears you could smell the thick scent of dinner as a soft voice piped up behind you.
“They’re going to need some time to adjust, Ace. I know it’s hard to see them like this, but you have to let them let it all out. It’s like when you first came on board. Eventually you tired out from it… eventually.” Fire Fist’s grimace was clear despite the haze on your broken lenses. Cheeks pink as he blushed, holding you closer with a sheepish expression. “Think I can take those old clothes now, baby bird?” Pheonix asked softly, tapping the folded pile in your arms.
You felt your lips wobble as you held it tighter to your chest. A sob startled from you as Fire Fist bounced you to get your attention.
“Hey, looks like he wants to trade.” Fire Fist pointed out, jerking his chin towards Pheonix’s other hand. Cream sat in his curled palm, a sea green shell settled on his back. He looked far more comfortable now than he did before, his small arms wiggling towards you as he considered you with some worry.
After a long moment, you relaxed your grip, allowing Pheonix to take your old uniform and trade for Cream.
“…thank you. His new shell looks nice.” You whispered, holding Cream close as he tried to brush away your tears with a soft hum. You curled into Fire Fist’s arm, head tucked under his chin as you couldn’t help a weak sniffle.
“You’re welcome. Now let’s get you two something to eat. We’ll be arriving at the main flagship pretty late.” Pheonix advised as you glanced up at him. He smiled, cupping your face to swipe away a tear with more success than Cream had.
You wanted to reiterate how deeply in trouble you already were but all that you could say was a meek response.
“…okay.”
Pheonix handed off the clothes to Deuce and walked with Fire Fist towards the eating area.
“You’ll like it here with us eventually. Everyone loves it when we get a new baby on board.”
“Oi!” Fire Fist protested sharply. Pheonix grinned sharply, eyes narrowing at Fire Fist.
“Don’t get jealous~ you’re still a baby in Oyaji’s eyes.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Small nubby arms tapped your chin as Cream tucked himself close to your neck with a reassuring murmur.
Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. If everyone is like them. Even if they’re pirates.
#one piece#platonic yandere#oh sweet child of mine#how our seeds grow#marco the pheonix#fire fist ace#child reader#gender neutral reader
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SULKY; TWS KYUNGMIN x READER
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
KYUNGMIN looked at the time inside the practice room and had noticed that it was already 11 PM. He sighed frustratingly and hurried to pack his things. He’s the only one left in the said room so he’s the one who turned off everything and closed up. Rushing to the elevator, he held his bag tightly in order for it to not fall out of his grasp
“Wait! Please hold the door!” He shouted out to the person inside the elevator but it was too late, thus, he made a detour and ran to the stairs that was on the other side of the building. He saw the flight of stairs while catching his breath from running and sighed deeply before running down
“Shit!” He cursed out loud after almost falling down before continuing his run for the HYBE Building main door
As he was about to run home to his apartment, he heard someone call his name “Kyungmin!!” He turned around and saw his senior, Seungkwan
“Ah, senior!” He greeted enthusiastically albeit heaving deeply “Why are you out of breath?” The older asked, “Ah, well, I need to rush home so…” Still catching his breath, he smiled to his senior “Let me give you a ride” Seungkwan offered “Is it okay?” Seungkwan nodded and Kyungmin followed him to his car
The car ride was full of laughs and conversation, and when Seungkwan found the right time to ask, he did, “Why were you running home?” He asked, swerving with one hand “Ah, well… my girlfriend” Kyungmin whispered out, feeling bashful as he massaged his ear. Seungkwan didn’t quite catch it though, much to Kyungmin’s dismay
“What was that?” Seungkwan asked again “Well, my girlfriend is waiting and we talked about coming home late when we don’t really have a packed schedule” The blonde admitted with a timid voice and Seungkwan laughed “You’re so cute, don’t take my laugh the wrong way. You just remind me of myself because my girlfriend is also like that” Seungkwan said with a laugh making Kyungmin do so as well
—
They reached Kyungmin’s apartment and the aforementioned bowed 90 degrees while thanking Seungkwan “Make sure to be extra loving to your girlfriend” Seungkwan teased before leaving, Kyungmin blushed and went up to their unit
Kyungmin unlocked the door and saw his girlfriend sitting on the living room watching TV… and she looked pissed. He gulped before setting down his bag and sitting next to her “‘m sorry” he said immediately but received no response
“Baby?” Nothing
“Love?” Nothing
“Pretty?” Nothing
“Sweetie?” Nothing
“Honey?” Still nothing
He had tried every corny call signs he could think of but he still received no response. She had stood up and walked to the kitchen and he followed; like a baby duck following the mother duck all while holding the hem of her shirt
She placed take outs on the table, slightly slamming it “Eat before sleeping” and left to go to their shared bedroom. Frowning, Kyungmin followed her inside and saw her tucking herself “Love…” he whined out, snuggling next to her and spooning her; he kept placing kisses on her cheeks, trying to be extra loving like how Seungkwan said
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t notice the time and I forgot to call you. I was so focused on practicing because I wanted to perfect our new choreography for our Comeback Show at Inkigayo. I know I should’ve called your first and I know I made you worried, I saw your 53 missed calls,” he said with a small smile
“I’m really sorry, baby. I promise I won’t ever do it again” he kissed her cheek one last time and heard her sniff “You crying?” “It’s just… I thought something happened to you” she said, wiping her tears before facing and hugging him, her face buried deep into his chest “Please call me first next time, I was so worried” he kissed the top of her head before caressing it and she continued to cry “I know, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again”
YAYYYY WE’RE DONE WITH MY SECOND FIC 🥹 i’ve always wanted to write for TWS but i never found the right motivation and inspiration to do so and now i’m overflooding with it 😭 this might not reach expectations but i hope it’s good enough 🥹
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Get Lucky | Qian Kun
Summary: When things start to get sexy with your new date Kun, he gets scared.
Genre: Drunk!Kun, fluff
Word Count: 0.6k
“You know… I’m a teeny-weeny bit DRUNK,” Kun whispered, pressing his palms to his cheeks.
You looked at Kun’s glazed-over hazel eyes, his cheeky grin, the way his normally perfect hair was in disarray.
“No shit, Sherlock,” you said, laughing.
Kun leant down and captured his pink curly straw between his lips. He sucked long and slow on his pina colada, his eyes never leaving yours.
The way he looked at you made your entire spine tingle.
You fanned yourself. “Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here? What do you say we take this somewhere else… like my place?”
Kun stared deep into your eyes. He reached his hand forwards, and tentatively, touched your thigh.
You could have moaned in pleasure. This was your third date, and you’d only pecked him on the lips once. You were dying for more.
He smiled bashfully. “I have to admit, the thoughts I am having right now are not very... gentlemanly.”
You leaned towards him, smirking. “Good thing I don’t want a gentleman.”
Kun touched the hem of your skirt. He couldn’t meet your eyes.
“What do you say we…” he mumbled. But then a Rihanna song started playing, and the other people in the bar cheered so loud it drowned his voice out.
“What did you say?” You shouted over the thumping bass. “I can’t hear you!”
Kun looked around, as if contemplating whether to repeat himself. Then, he shook his head and stood up.
He pulled on his jacket. “I just remembered… I’ve got a very important meeting in the morning. I’ve got to go!”
You frowned. “But tomorrow’s Sunday! Wait!”
But it was too late, because Kun had disappeared.
--
You stumbled into your apartment, alone, and even more drunk.
Your kitten, Baghira, mewled.
You knelt down and stroked her black fur.
“It’s just like my mum,” You sniffed. “Why does everybody leave me?”
Just then, you heard a knock on your door.
You pulled the door open and saw Kun. He looked handsome, with his deep dimples and plump lips. His face was tinged a deep red.
“Kun? What are you doing here?” Your heart started to pound.
Kun straightened himself up, brushing the dust from his jacket.
“Y/n, I’m sorry for running away like that. It was rude. I do want to be with you, it’s just… it’s just.” He sighed.
Kun pulled his hand out from behind his back and gave you a bar of Twix. You looked at him quizzically.
He pouted. “I wanted to get you flowers, but the only thing open this late was the vending machine.”
You giggled, swooning internally. Then you remembered how he’d ditched you, and the feeling vanished.
“I really am sorry,” Kun said, tugging a hand through his deep black hair. “I left because… everything was happening so fast. I want us to be more than some random hook-up.” He met your eyes. “When I make love to you, I want to do it right. I want it to mean something.”
You nodded. “If we’re gonna sleep together, let’s do it properly. Girlfriend and boyfriend.”
Kun grinned. “So… can I come in?”
“I’ll give you one last chance – but only coz you’re hot,” you said, shaking your head. You stepped to the side to allow him in.
Kun walked in and pulled you towards him. He kissed your lips softly. “I promise you won’t regret this,” he whispered.
Your heart thumped. “I know I won’t.”
—
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
#kun#qian kun#wayv#kun fluff#kun smut#kun angst#wayv smut#wayv fluff#wayv angst#wayv scenarios#nct smut#nct fluff#nct angst#nct scenarios#nct fanfiction#wayv drabbles#nct drabbles#nct fanfic
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Salai-Chapter 6
WELCOME TO SALAI'S ROUTE. This is a FAN MADE route of my oc, Salai. This means this route contains my headcanons for the characters and in no way is suppose to represent the canon story. This is just a fun little time because I know many of you enjoy Salai. Feel free to engage, talk theories, send asks (even to @ask-salai ).
DISCLAIMER: His route his not canon to his character. Also, all of his lore in not in the route for simplicity reasons plus please feel free to ask about him.
Banner by @spooscribbles
You convinced Salai to do the gallery, and now you just need to get Theo here to help figure out which paintings he would want to display. You sit on the couch and the two of you start talking while he paints a little bit. Batuffola curls up beside you to cuddle.
Mitsuki: So who are you looking for?
Salai: My Maestro. We had a falling out years ago and he left me. He was a popular artist so we moved around to where he would get work. But we got into an argument not long after getting to Vienna.
His voice gets softer as he remembers. Taking his time almost like he isn’t trying to cry. You look at him and those eyes of his were as dark as a storm at sea. They were remembering the pain he felt.
Salai: He left me. I didn’t know the language… I barely had any money…
Mitsuki: And you are looking for him?
Salai: Yes, I-
Mitsuki: So you can tell him off
Salai: What? N-no! He means a lot to me. He saved my life, on more than one occasion. I want to make things right with him.
Mitsuki: He sounds like an awful person
Salai: It…it is hard to explain everything.
He starts to pull at the hem of his sleeves. You let out a sigh. You don’t know his story, who are you to judge? There are surely things he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing.
Salai: Once I heard he was in Paris I did what I could to get here. I haven’t been here for long and I don’t expect to find him immediately.
Mitsuki: I’m sorry. No one deserves to go through that.
Even back in your time with having technology you couldn’t imagine being stuck somewhere you didn’t know the language and didn’t have any money.
Salai: Sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten the mood down. Are you hungry? I could make us something to eat.
He’s back to smiling again, but his eyes are still dull. He might be able to change his body language and the tone of his voice but he can’t hide it in his eyes.
Mitsuki: Andrea, you don’t need to-
He gets off his stool and goes over to the little kitchen.
Salai: I made my own ravioli a few days ago, but I tend to add a lot of spices. So I could make us just a normal pasta with a cream sauce if you would like.
He’s trying to change the subject, not wanting to linger on the emotional talk you two just had. You just realized that if he’s offering to make dinner… How late is it? You look down at the watch on your wrist and it's nearly 6pm.
Mitsuki: Shoot! I need to get back.
You quickly get up, apologizing to Batuffola for disturbing her.
Mitsuki: I’m sorry, Andrea. I didn’t intend to be out so long and I need to get back to make dinner.
Salai: Oh…right… Let me walk you to the main road.
He tried to hide the hint of sadness in his voice but it didn’t work.
Mitsuki: It’s just right around the bend, right? I’m sure I’ll be fine. I really need to get going.
You didn’t want everyone worrying about you, and there was no need for him to walk you out. You may have been warned about the area but you remember where you came from.
Mitsuki: I’ll see you tomorrow maybe. Goodnight
You wave and head out. Salai hesitated for a moment, but then also realized how late it was.
Salai: Mitsuki! Wait!
He put down the pot he was holding and rushed to the door to quickly put his cape on. He wasn’t offering simply to be nice, but also because it's dangerous. It’s like you completely forgot.
You quickly went down the stairs and out the door. Once you stepped outside you remembered where you were. You are close to what you thought was the red light district. Maybe if you just walk quickly and pay attention to no one you will be fine. Yeah. That will work. It wasn’t that far from the main road.
You start walking, picking up your pace as you walk past alleys. Just as you are about to turn the corner your arm gets grabbed
Man: Where do you think you’re headed?
Mitsuki: Get off me!
You start to panic. You really should have waited. You try to push the man away.
Man: If you weren’t looking for someone then what are you doing in this area
The man holds you against a wall.
Man: Aren’t you a cutie
Salai: Let her go!
Your eyes lit up when you heard that voice.
Mitsuki: Andrea!
Man: Sorry fella. Finders keepers.
Salai: I said let her go!
He got a lot angrier. Next thing you knew Salai was grabbing the man by his shoulder and ripping him from you. The man is much bigger than Salai, you aren’t sure how he pulled that off, but that isn’t what is in the front of your mind right now.
Salai: Are you hurt?
In a panic he quickly looked over your body and didn’t see anything and let out a sigh of relief. Then turned around to face the man who was coming at him to punch him. He ducked at the swing and punched the man in the gut, and as he was doubled over he kicked his foot up into his jaw.
You moved to the side, watching the fight play out. The man pulled out a knife and started slashing it in the air. Salai moved back each time but eventually got a wall to his back. The man went to slash at him again, and by some instinct you ran over to hold onto the man’s arm to stop him. Salai took that opportunity to grab the man’s head and slam it into the wall.
He fell to the ground groaning. Salai stepped on his hand to make him drop the knife and kicked it away.
You took a few steps back to catch your breath.
Mitsuki: I-I’m sorry. I-I wasn’t thinking and I-
Salai suddenly hugged you, holding you close to him.
Salai: You’re okay and that’s what is important
He didn’t let you go for a while. He wanted to keep you safe in his arms. When he finally let you go, he happened to see your arm.
Salai: You’re bleeding!
He lifts your arm. When you grabbed the man’s arm the blade of the knife must have slashed you. You’re filled with so much adrenaline that you didn’t even feel it.
Salai: Come on. Let’s get that bandaged.
He takes your hand and walks you back to his apartment. When you first got here you couldn’t help but notice how run down of an area he lived in, but when you had to go you somehow forgot about that. The front door didn’t seem to close all the way when he ran out but when he got up to his apartment he realized he never grabbed his keys.
Salai: Crap… I didn’t grab my key
Mitsuki: do you maybe-
You looked around to see if there was a place he might have hidden a spare, but you look at him and he’s kneeling down, picking the lock to his own apartment.
Mitsuki: Or..do that.
Within seconds he has the door open and helps you inside. Batuffola is there at the door to greet you both.
Salai: yes, hello bella.
He takes you over to his bed and has you sit there.
Salai: stay right there.
The bathroom was on this side of the room. He turned to go in there and grab a few things.
Now that you are starting to calm down you are starting to feel the pain. There’s not a lot of blood, but there is enough. He comes back with a damp rag and some bandages. He uses the rag to clean up the blood and to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding.
Mitsuki: He didn’t hurt you, did he?
Salai: Me? No, I'm fine.
He pushed his hair back and out of his face.
It’s quiet for a few more moments other than Batuffola purring.
Mitsuki: How did you learn how to fight like that?
Salai: I’ve been in quite a few bar fights actually. I’ve cut it close a few times.
Mitsuki: Really? What for?
Salai: Just stupid things.
He takes the rag off of your arm and you let out a hiss. The bleeding has slowed down so he wraps your arm in the bandage.
Salai: I know you said you needed to get back, but why don’t you stay here for the night? If you need me to come with you in the morning to explain what happened so you don’t get in trouble I will. I just don’t think you should be out there right now.
He didn't realize it, but he rested his chin on your lap, and looked up at you as he pleaded. Nor did you realize that you brushed your fingers through his hair.
Mitsuki: You don’t need to come with me, I won’t get in trouble.
Both of your movements seemed to be natural. Salai finally stands up, wanting to take the bloody rag back to the bathroom, but Batuffola was next to him and he didn’t realize, and tripped over his own feet, falling forwards on top of you.
You fall onto your back onto the bed. Salai stopped himself from falling onto you completely by having his hands on either side of you. You felt your face get flushed. It’s not like he was any closer than before, but it’s the position that you are in. Your heart is pounding, and your chest feels tight. This can’t possibly be the feeling you think it is.
Do you have feelings for him?
~~~
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oh i know we're on the topic of best friends sisters and whatnot but can i offer an absolutely out of left field alternative? best friends brother with dodge
as in ur daynas friend from high school, u guys have always been pretty close, but dodge hasn't seen u since they moved away, but now they're back and ur in his living room and oh shit, uve grown up. i mean, he has too, obviously, he graduated high school, hes taller and stronger and over that awkward gangly teen phase he was in when you met him. but you. u wear shorts, around his place, those ripped denim ones with the fraying hems that show off the glimpse of a waistband of pretty pink panties. and tank tops, sheer, tight tanks to fight the scorching texas heat. and you laze around his house like youve always done, drinking his sweet tea and eating his food, chatting with his older sister about things he does it care about.
and you're cool, and older, and pretty, and interesting, and hes so surprised to hear about how youre single (from dayna, in passing), a string of bad exes behind you. cheaters and losers and broke idiots. dodge would never do that to u. dodge would treat you right. like a real man should. dodge would make you feel really fucking good. and hes determined to prove it to you.
-kit (going insane)
YEAHHHHHHH
Sigh whenever I think abt any dodge AUs I just want to lean heavy into small town aspirations that fail and send you right back to where you started. Maybe you leave the city for Dallas, or a suburb of it, auditioning to be a cheerleader for the Cowboys. You were the cheer captain back in Carp, but things are different in cities with a population over 5k.
So you come back, work at the salon in town painting nails. It’s the perfect job— all gossipy, surrounded by the sweet smell of lotions and shampoo.
Maybe you have a reputation around town for dressing kind of skanky, for being a little ditzy. Rumors of you stealing husbands and boyfriends (untrue!). But Dayna was your friend in high school, and she’s still your friend now. One of your last remaining ones in Carp. So you lounge around their house, spilling all the gossip you learned from work in his sister’s ear, giving her free manicures in the house since the salon on Main Street isn’t wheel chair accessible.
“I can do your nails, Dodge,” you offer with a pretty smile. “Just clean ‘em up a bit. Half the men in town come to get manicures from me.”
He makes a face, lips twitching into a grin. “I don’t need my nails to be hooker red, thank you.”
You shrug, apply another coat of pale pink on Dana’s nails. “Bring ‘em over here. I wanna see.”
He sighs and takes a few ambling steps towards you. When he’s close enough, you grab his hand and hold it up to the light. Your nose wrinkles, and you raise a dissatisfied brow.
“Hands say a lot about someone,” you say as you trace your fingers along the back of his hand, then the rough, work-worn palms and fingertips. “Wanna know what yours say?”
He makes a face, but concedes. He’s handsome, grown up a lot in the two years since you left for Dallas. Nineteen now, more sure of himself. More muscular? Jesus, the rodeo had been treating him right. “Sure. Why not?”
Your thumb strokes over the back of his hand. “They’re rough. These are a workers hands. They say you know how to take care of the people you love. That you’re real hands on.” You pause, grin. “But the dirt under your nails… that tells me that you aren’t taking care of any ladies.”
His cheeks turn pink as you and Dayna grin, and he forces a sarcastic laugh as he pulls his hands back. “Wow. Thanks.”
You meet his gaze and offer a pretty smile. “Really, let me clean your hands up sometime. I’ll bring you Whataburger, or Sonic, or Dairy Queen.”
He laughs despite himself, shrugs. “Maybe.”
Dayna slaps your arm once Dodge slips away to his bedroom. “Stop hitting on my little brother. Its weird.”
You grin, but say nothing.
It’s a week later that you’re back in his living room without Dayna in sight. You’re holding a bag of Whataburger, sprawled across the couch. “Can I do your nails?”
How can he say no?
————
@gamesetart this took forever but I need him <3 I love this concept it’s so fun
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