#Look at that rather healthy taglist.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Milk]

While Yoongi realizes that Jimin might not be that much different from you than he thought, and Jimin starts to accept the fact that he's no longer your number one, Jungkook starts to develop feelings towards you that he's never really felt towards anyone before.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, hybrid courting behavior, major fluff, some suggestive themes, mentions of heat, healthy portion of angst with a side of heavy flirting, Jungkook's dirty mind oop-

Length: 3.4k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jimin has noticed a new issue, every morning when he wakes you up before he goes to work.

Usually, you'll be sprawled out like a starfish in your pink fairytale canopy bed, all comfy and tired and a little grumpy, most of the time. But these days, he can sometimes only spot maybe a leg peeking out from beneath the blankets and stuffed toys now littering your bed.

It's Jeon Jungkook's fault, the dog boy having been showering you with things he deems you should have left and right- even worse than Jimin himself used to do.

Yoongi has been explaining to him that Jungkook isn't fully aware of the cause of his behavior yet- after all, the canine hybrid has never really been so strongly romantically interested in anyone before. Sure, Jungkook has had someone he was seeing intimately here and there before, but never a full blown relationship. It came with the stigma around him and his breed- most other hybrids tend to steer clear of him, and rather keep him at an arms length, so to speak.

He'd always been good for some fun for others- but no one ever took him seriously, so the canine hybrid had simply lost interest in romance entirely at some point.

So, considering you very much don't just see him as a quick fuck while simultaneously being very open about what he can and can't do with you, it makes it all the more unsurprising that the dog hybrid has been growing feelings for you. And if anything, Yoongi has been growing increasingly frustrated with the both of you- because you're both just so insanely oblivious.

Jungkook finds tons of excuses as to why your behavior towards him could just be friendly in nature, and not intimate or romantic- and so do you, constantly.

Cuddling? You're just very touchy, you cuddled with Jimin all the time, so now that he's more occupied with Yoongi it's only logical you'd go and find someone else to provide comfort for you.

Jungkook gifting you stuff that's originally his own? He's just happy to have a new friend, and probably believes that he can keep your interest in him with casual gifts. Or maybe he just wants someplace to dump his old stuff.

purring and bumping into him? You just like attention, and this is the most typical cat-way of gaining attention he could think of.

It's stupid, the way you both clearly are interested in each other- and yet find millions of excuses as to why the other isn't.

"Hey, princess-" Jimin hums, moving a large green dinosaur plush to the side to reveal your face. "-come on, let's get up now, hm?" He asks, and you look at him with a slightly hazy look for a moment, before you clear up. Your cheeks are flushed as you stretch, before you cringe at yourself- and Jimin can only assume why. "You wanna go clean up while I make breakfast?" He chuckles, and you nod, groggily untangling yourself from the blankets to go inside the bathroom, while Jimin moves to change the sheets.

He's gonna have to check in with the local heat-hotel for a room for you- the slightly darkened patch on your sheets and the clear signs in your behavior giving him the last reminder that you're probably close to your heat.

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When you don't visit yet again, Jungkook becomes a little restless as he watches the window, Jimin leaving the house to go to work. "Do you think she's sick?" Jungkook wonders towards Yoongi, who simply shrugs with his coffee.

"Don't think so. Jimin said she's close to her heat so that's probably why she's staying at home." He casually mentions, making Jungkook freeze for a good moment, before he looks over again.

The dog hybrid hasn't actually ever thought about that.

He has been smelling something unique coming from your garden yesterday when you were taking a nap out in the grass on a blanket- but he didn't actually connect the dots that that enticing smell had been you. And if you're just close to your heat and not actually in it yet, and you're already smelling so nice, how much would it change when you were actually fully in it?

Suddenly, his brain starts to create rather.. scandalous scenarios.

You probably wear underwear that's just as cute as all your dresses and skirts and blouses- little bows decorating the pastel colored fabric covering your most intimate parts. With the amount of time and care you put into your skincare all the time, you must feel like absolute heaven- and he wonders what your reaction would be if he was to explore his theory with kisses on your skin. You get so awfully cute when you're shy- he loves the way you blush sometimes, or hide away in embarrassment- would that be what you'd do if he was to approach you with intentions of lust?

He's sure he wouldn't be able to control himself if you were to lay in his bed, behind raised up and soft tail curled over, presenting your body to him, quietly begging for him to breed you. He'd make sure you wouldn't have to suffer at all during your entire heat- and now he has to think about the fact that by now, your bed must be absolutely littered with the things he gave you.

Good. His scent is probably all around you now. Have you started to give into your instincts already? Now he has to think about you amongst his sheets, your hands between your soft thighs-

"i-Im gonna go shower real quick!" Jungkook suddenly bursts out, fleeing the scene and leaving a laughing Yoongi behind.

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Throughout the day, Jungkook tries to distract himself, even when Jimin visits later after work, sitting in the living room with Yoongi. He's making himself a snack when he overhears the conversation going on- ears instantly tilting towards the two at the sound of your name spoken.

"They said it's full, and the other one is hours away." Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"What about surpressants? I mean, it's pretty much an emergency now." He suggests, unsure. Jungkook doesn't go into heat after all- his rut has only been set off a handful of times in the past, and it only took the hybrid a day or two to snap back out of it. Yoongi has never had to deal with hybrid heats before- so he's unsure what to really say now. Jungkook cringes as the mention of surpressants, though.

"I'd honestly rather avoid that. She's allergic to most blockers, and those liquid sirups for kittens makes her nauseous and miserable. Ah, this is horrible!" Jimin complains, putting down his phone.

"And a heat partner?" Yoongi asks, making Jungkook swallow down a growl of his own- something his owner notices briefly, though he brushes it off as him maybe having spotted something outside that probably set him off a little. "That way she'd be through with it quicker, right?" He wonders, and Jimin shakes his head.

"She.. never had a heat partner before." He reveals. "And she doesn't like the idea of one either. She's a bit scared of sex, mostly because she's never experienced it before." He shrugs, crossing his arms.

"I mean, they're tested and everything though. She'd be safe, and those people know what they're doing-" He starts, and by now, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore.

"If-!" He buts in, sitting down on the couch, trying to seem nonchalant but failing miserably. "If, you know, she doesn't want to, you shouldn't push her. Hybrids in heat can often make decisions they'll regret later." He offers, and Yoongi looks at him with suspicion, before he smirks, sharing a glance with Jimin. "What?" The dog hybrid asks, when Jimin seems to catch on.

"You think-?" He starts, and Yoongi shrugs.

"She's pretty comfy with him. Likes him." He says. "If you talk to her about it now she'll be clear enough in the head to make a decision too. And Jungkookie can surely be gentle, I imagine." He teases the now red-faced and wide eyed hybrid, who looks like he's being held at gunpoint.

"Would you do that, Jungkook?" Jimin wonders, looking rather.. serious. "Help her, I mean? I'd leave the house in your care for the time being. She usually takes a week at max- so you'd have to take time off." He says, and Jungkook swallows hard.

"I mean.. it's up to her." He shakes his head. "I won't decide anything without asking her first." He denies, and at that, Jimin suddenly smiles softly.

"Then I think Yoongi is right." He nods. "You could be the perfect solution."

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"I'm not having sex." You deny, crawling up into a corner on your bed, away from Jungkook who sits on the edge of it. "Nuh-uh." You shake your head, crossing your arms.

"We don't have to." Jungkook agrees, staying where he is and respecting your need for distance. "But without help, you'll be miserable." He reminds you, and you huff to yourself.

"I'll be fine." You argue. "I wanna stay at a hotel."

"The hotels are full." Jungkook sighs. "Jiminie has been trying to squeeze you in for days now, they don't have any space anymore." He softly says, trying to push through your clear anxiety. "Do you want a female heat partner then?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"I don't want anyone!" You snap at him, ears pinned back, and Jungkook nods- until he spots your eyes tearing up.

"Hey, I'm sorry I pushed it-" He starts, but you shake your head again, pulling your legs closer to yourself.

"I- ugh, this is so stupid!" You yell, attempting to throw a babyblue dog plus, before you rather hold it close, as if feeling guilty for trying to cause it harm. "I wanna.. I don't wanna have sex." You growl at no one, pushing your face into the dog's soft fur. "I don't wanna be alone.!" You whine, and Jungkook can't help but whimper under his breath as well, your distress making him equally nervous. He needs to make you feel better.

"Do you just want company?" He asks. "I can just be here, I won't touch you-"

"But I want that!" You finally burst out. "I want that- but I don't want that!" You complain, and suddenly, something clicks.

"We don't have to have that kind of sex." He reassures you. "I can do other stuff to help you. I don't have to, you know, be inside you." He says, and at that, you look at him.

"That's bullshit." You huff. "You'd get nothing out of it then." You say.

"I'd be close to you." He shrugs. "And I'd get to help you. Sounds good to me."

"What if your rut starts? Then you'll just.. do it, because I won't be complaining about it with my sex-hungry brain, and-" You hiccup, swallowing thickly. "-and then I'd hate you, and I don't wanna hate you-"

"Hey, kitty, princess, no." He shakes his head. "I'm not like that. If you say you draw the line at penetrative sex, I'll respect that." He tells you, and you take a moment to calm down, breath slowing down to a more reasonable pace.

"why?" You wonder quietly, watching him intently now.

"Because I don't want you to be miserable." He offers. "I want to help you, because.. I care about you."

"I'm constantly mean to you." You huff.

"You're not, actually. You're a bit.. rough around the edges, yeah, but you're a nice person." He smiles encouragingly. "You're.. I- uhm.." He looks down at his hands for a moment. "Uhm, this might be a really bad moment, forget-"

"No!" You suddenly say, dashing forward, looking at him with wide open eyes, desperation clear in your face. "S-.. say it.?" You almost whisper, and as he looks at you, feels your warm hand on his, he realizes it fully himself as well.

"I like you." He says, quietly. "And I.. want you. I'm not sure- I.. don't really know, this is a first for me, I've never really.. felt like that about someone before. And I'm not making that up." He chuckles nervously. At that, you sit cross legged now, closer to him, entire posture having changed now.

"Me neither-" You tell him with wonder, before you shake your head, correcting yourself. "Like- the part about feelings and stuff, not the part about making stuff up-" You rant, and he laughs, cheeks a bit red.

"So we'll just.. see where it goes?" He asks, and you nod after a moment.

"Guess so." You smile shyly.

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"You'll get used to it." Yoongi reassures Jimin, who's been noticeably down these past few days, watching the dog hybrid constantly roam around you, basically having entirely taken over the place Jimin once filled in your life. "When Jungkook started working, I felt like that too." He tells his now boyfriend, who looks at him a little unconvinced.

"I feel like she hates me now." He sighs, watching how Jungkook pulls on your leg to get you out of the way, you having napped right in the middle of the hallway, blocking the way out the bathroom. You're laughing, clearly being a menace for no other reason than to get onto the dog hybrid's nerves- but it's not really working, since he instead just plays around with you. "She doesn't need me at all."

"And that's a good thing." Yoongi shrugs. "She deserves to be independent. And emotionally, she will always need you. You'll just have to.. share that attention now." He offers as an explanation, and Jimin sits back in his chair, sighing.

"…but I don't want to." He mumbles to himself, making Yoongi laugh as he takes a sip from his coffee.

"You sound just like her." The oldest teases, watching how Jungkook is now leaned over you, your behind pushing suspiciously into him. "Hey, not in the hallway you horny idiots!" He barks out, causing both Jungkook and you to snap out of the moment, getting up in embarrassment, before you push the dog and run outside into the backyard, initiating a game of tag to get rid of the awkwardness.

"I'm just.. so used to being her number one. And now I'm not." Jimin sighs, turning his head a bit to look outside where it's become suspiciously quiet.

"Well, better get over it you big baby." Yoongi teases, getting up and running a hand over his head as he passes by. "You can be my number one now." He passes by-

before his voice is heard again outside, yelling at both of you to get back inside where he can see you, Jungkook and you laughing as you run away from the playfully frustrated human.

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You know exactly what you're doing- and so does he.

It's like you're both in a war, trying to see who's gonna break first- him or you. You've started to run around in the shortest shorts and cropped tops, tail always held high to make sure he always get's a good whiff of your scent whenever you pass him- eyes constantly searching for his reaction, proving to him that you're doing this on purpose. You've also begun to scent his clothes, steal his stuff, and enter any room he's in just to knock something over or gain his attention, before you dash away again, zoomies a constant occurrence.

But he's not just letting himself be beat up like this.

From casually walking shirtless, flaunting his physique and tattoos in the process, to running his fingers up and down your back, right on your spine, stopping at the base of your tail whenever he reaches it. He knows you're close by now, but you're still not letting yourself go just yet, seemingly testing if he's just as good at controlling his urges as he said he'd be. And he's very much eager to prove himself to you.

Jimin and Yoongi are staying at his house, while the younger human has gifted Jungkook the keys to the house you're normally occupying with Jimin, offering him some privacy during your heat- but also probably to have some alone time with his own partner now as well.

Nevertheless, Jungkook wonders what the next few days will bring. What will you need to feel good? What does he have to provide in order to make you comfortable? He's never been so anxious about sex or anything about it before, apart from maybe his first time when he was a teenager still. But with you, it's somehow different again- he wants to make sure you know that he's not only interested in you in terms of lust-

but maybe love, too.

He's currently prepping the last few things- fridge stuffed with your favorite snacks he'd ordered, when he notices a shift in the air. You've not really gotten up this morning, but he'd just guessed that you might just wanted to sleep longer. Jungkook had slept on the couch downstairs in the living room, so he's not really checked up on you yet- but maybe he should.

The moment he opens your bedroom door, he's practically attacked by your scent- like a solid concrete wall it pushes him back a little, as he swallows down any instincts for now, instead searching for you amongst what can only be described as chaos.

All the blankets are thrown all over the place. Plush animals are on the floor and the bed, the sheets are crumpled up and pushed around- but most of all, you're nowhere in sight. Even as he calls your name you won't show yourself- and it sets him off a little, as he enters the room and uses his hybrid senses to somehow track you down.

It leads him into the connected bathroom, where he finds you nesting in the empty tub- skin flushed, a bit of sweat on your forehead as you whine, complaining about the light bleeding into the otherwise dark room. You'd put up a towel over the window to keep out the sunlight.

He feels his fingers itching to offer you some sort of comfort, but he's also a bit hesitant. He needs a moment to collect himself, make a mental plan about how to help you, because you're obviously distressed and in full heat now. What he doesn't understand is why you wouldn't seek him out at all- even now, with him in the room, and you having obviously recognized him, you don't ask for anything at all. If anything, you seem sick.

Something's not right.

"Do you wanna maybe sleep somewhere else?" He carefully asks, but you shake your head, tail between your legs slightly sticky with the slick between your thighs- but the smell of distress and the sight of you in clear discomfort makes none of it affect him in a sexual way. "No?" He repeats, and you continue to shake your head once more, rather nuzzling into what he now recognizes is his sweater he'd taken off yesterday.

"No.." You deny, squeezing your eyes closed. "I'm too hot anywhere else.." You slur a little, curling up more as if to seek comfort. Jungkook feels his own instincts flaring up, protectiveness filling his brain as his brain works with every little cell to create a solution for you. Jimin didn't mention any of this at all. Jungkook doesn't know if this is normal or not for you- he only knows that he's never seen behavior like that.

So he walks out the bathroom, quietly, closes the door and makes his way to grab his phone, calling your owner. "Jungkook?" Jimin answers quickly, reassuring the dog hybrid at least for the moment. "Everything alright? Do you need something?"

"She's nesting in the bathroom." He rushes out instead of properly answering or greeting the human at all. "And she seems to have a fever- is this normal for her?" Jungkook worries. "She seems distressed- she smells so upset, what do I do?" He asks, and Jimin sighs on the other line, before he answers.

"We've been to doctors before already. It sometimes happens-" Jimin explains, his tone sounding rather defeated. "-no one really knows why. I'll come over and take over-" He starts, but Jungkook immediately cuts him off.

"No no no, tell me what usually helps? I wanna take care of her, please." He asks, and Jimin looks at Yoongi for a second, unsure- before he makes the decision. It feels like he's officially giving you away and out of his care- but maybe Yoongi is right.

Maybe it's time to not be selfish, and change.

"Okay." He says, before he starts to give the dog hybrid instructions on what to do.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #yoongi imagine #jimin imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic

[foreverdolly]

my bestest girl | austin!elvis x reader

summary: you're elvis’s childhood best friend, and he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. his mother and father keep trying to push him to finally make a move, what with you being the only girl that they would ever approve of their son going steady with. elvis, bashful and fearful of rejection, decides to keep his feelings to himself. . . well- that is until he can’t physically take it anymore

pairings: austin!elvis x fem!reader

word count: 9,173 ( I couldn't stop typing ).

warnings/notes: SMUT !, cursing, the reader and elvis are both huge virgins, grinding, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, implied breeding kink, elvis loves you so much that it physically pains him. the internal image of an inexperienced, nervous elvis has me foaming at the mouth. everyone always writes austin!elvis as a sex god, but quivering boys with shaky, wandering hands who cry during sex is my own personal kryptonite. a continuation of this fic is currently in the works, so please follow me or ask to be added to my taglist for my virgin!elvis content if ya liked this.

masterlist | requests are currently closed !

“Mama, here you go again! Stop tryin’ to stick your nose into other people’s business.” He called from his bedroom, his heart pounding against his chest. Elvis stared at himself in the small mirror he had in his cramped space, taking a few steps back so that he could make sure that his short sleeve button up didn’t have any wrinkles. He had insisted that he do the ironing himself, not wanting his mother to be too overwhelmed with things to do. He wasn’t very good when it came to housework, no matter how hard he tried. 

“I’m not doin’ anythin’ a mother shouldn’t do, baby! I ran into her daddy at the grocery store, and we just got to talkin’ is all.” Is that what she wanted to call it? Vernon had pulled Elvis aside just thirty minutes ago and had told him that Gladys had practically begged your father to get you to come over for dinner tonight. She’d been meddling in his relationship with you for years, but tonight was different. He could tell that she had something up her sleeve, ready to pull out once she got two of you cornered at the dinner table. 

She had always been wildly overprotective of her son, and Elvis had never fought the hold that she had over his life. He didn’t blame her one bit for it, rather he enjoyed feeling loved and cared for. He never spent a single night away from home until he was seventeen, for crying out loud. If Elvis lost a son the same way that she had, he was positive that he’d want nothing more than to keep him safe and healthy. That was exactly what Gladys was doing. She looked after him and made sure he never got himself into any sort of trouble. His old pals from high school used to say that she felt “threatened” by the girls that used to try their hand at flirting with him, but the blue eyed boy knew that it just wasn’t the case. No, she wanted him to be with the right girl. 

In Glady’s and Vernon’s eyes, you were the only girl for Elvis. He felt that way about you too. 

When he reached puberty and moved to Memphis, girls started paying more and more attention to him. The one girl that he wanted to look in his direction never did though. His sultry voice, long eyelashes, and crooked smile never worked on you. Good lord, had he tried it time and time again, but you never acted interested. Despite the dull ache of rejection that Elvis always felt in your presence, he never could shake you. Not that he wanted to. You were just as much family to him as his own parents were, what with the fact that you two had always been connected at the hip. He couldn’t go a single day without phoning you up, the two of you chatting excitedly about your latest Beale Street shenanigans. 

His love and attraction for you never dimmed, and his eyes never strayed. Elvis was positive that you were the girl that he was supposed to marry. . . but he knew that you didn’t feel the same way. He smoothed a few stray pieces of ebony hair back into place, chewing nervously at the inside of his cheek. “Sure, sure. You only did what you thought was right.” He moved to stand in the doorway of his room, pressing his hip against the wooden frame. “But mama?” She was anxiously setting the table, and stopped what she was doing so that she could meet his gaze. 

“You can’t force her to feel somethin’ that she doesn’t, alright? I’m perfectly fine with just bein’ her friend.” That was a lie. The words burned his tongue the second that he said them, but he refused to take back the statement. He wasn’t going to say anything to you that might potentially push you away. He’d rather not have you romantically than not have you at all. Elvis was sure that he might just keel over if you never spoke to him again. The remorseful look on his mother’s face didn’t escape him, but he made the decision to ignore it. He didn't want anybody's pity. Not right now, at least. You’d be here any second, and the last thing he needed was to start moping around. You would be sure to notice. 

He wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks, clearing his throat as he straightened out his shoulders. “Now what can I do to help, satnin?” He cooed to his mother, watching the way the nervousness dissipated from her expression. 

He was helping to lay out the silverware, but paused as there was a knock on the door. “That must be our girl. Elvis, how ‘bout you get that?” Vernon spoke from the kitchen, probably busy sneaking a few spoonfuls of his mother’s famous ambrosia salad, which she would be sure to notice. His father would be getting an earful about it later. 

The man was at the door in the blink of an eye, his long legs quickly stalking across the small home. He ripped the door open with a wide smile, eager to see you after the few days that you two had been apart. You were like a drug to him- at this point he couldn’t go too long without you, not without suffering withdrawals. You blinked in shock, a few strands of your bangs fluttering with how violently he had ripped the damn thing open. 

Standing in front of you was a very eager looking Elvis, his plush pink lips upturned into his signature smile. Judging by the way you were quick to step into the house and wrap your arms around him, he could tell that you were excited to see him as well. “That was the longest trip of my life.” You sighed against his chest, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go. He found it hard to speak for a few seconds, so he decided to nod his agreement. You and your family had taken a last minute vacation to Cherokee Lake Beach, deciding that the summer break would be a better time than ever to celebrate your father’s recent promotion. Last night had been your first day back, but you had claimed to be too tired for a visit, so Elvis made do with the half hour phone call you made to him. 

Gladys had been lucky enough to bump into your dad after the week long vacation, which was how he had ended up in this mess. Elvis was too mortified to ask about all of the details, knowing that his loud mouthed mother probably gushed to the middle aged man about her son’s private thoughts and feelings. You were dolled up, which wasn’t completely unusual. You always went out of your way to look pretty- but you had even dusted your wide doe-like eyes with a shimmery shadow. Your cheeks were naturally flushed, your skin glowing after the days of soaking up the sun. He was taken aback by your beauty. So much so that he just stood there, his blue eyes half lidded as he took you in. For a moment neither of you spoke. You merely stared at one another, basking in each other’s presence. That was until Vernon spoke, that is. 

“Gladys cooked you a welcome home feast, darlin’. I hope you’re hungry.” Elvis could have cursed at his father, your beautiful eyes leaving his face and instead turning in the direction of the kitchen. 

Your lips moved up into a lazy smile, and soon you were moving closer to Vernon, wrapping your arms around him quickly as the two of you exchanged your hellos. He gave the top of your head a quick kiss before letting you go. Gladys was next, moving from the kitchen so that she could wrap you up in one of her usual bear hugs. She peppered your cheek with kisses, rubbing your arm up and down when she pulled away so that she could get a good look at you. “Why, look at you!” She purred, giving you a once over. “You look beautiful, y/n.” 

And you did. Then again, Elvis couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t thought you looked gorgeous. Whether you were stumbling out of your room after a long night's rest, sleep caked in your eyes and your hair sticking up on end, or as sick as a dog- Elvis always found you gorgeous. He was smitten to the point of being lovesick for crying out loud. 

“Did you make the ambrosia salad?” He heard you ask from the kitchen, your small frame disappearing into the tiny space. You and his mother always got along like two peas in a pod, but he couldn’t help but glare after his mother who had stolen you away from him so soon into the visit. 

Vernon took it as his opportunity to move towards the dining room table, taking his seat. Elvis hesitantly followed suit, nervously looking down at his shirt one last time, attempting to brush out a wrinkle with his hands, his silver watch jingling softly with the movement. “Son,” His father kept his voice low, leaning forward on his elbows. “Your mother and I are goin’ to watch a movie together once we’re through with eatin’.” Elvis’s eyes furrowed in confusion, but he nodded his head anyway. “What movie are we seein’?” It wasn’t like his father to go to the movies. His parents never spent money on frivolous things like the cinema. Vernon was quick to shake his head, reaching into his pocket to show him just two tickets. “I just thought that you and y/n might like some time to yourselves tonight.” Elvis had to pinch his nose to keep from exploding, his cheeks hot with both anger and embarrassment. Now how the hell was he supposed to explain all of this to you? “Daddy- you’re just as bad as mama is!” He whisper-yelled. Before he had time to scold his father any further, his two girls emerged from the kitchen, arms full of serving dishes. 

Warm biscuits, mashed potatoes with gravy made from drippings, green beans and hamburger steaks. His mother really had gone out for your long overdue return to the presley household. You sat next to Elvis wordlessly, and when he turned to face you he could tell that your cheeks were a little pinker than they had been before. He blinked a few times, but settled further into his seat, grabbing the linen napkin off of the table so that he could put it on his lap. The four of you all joined hands, your mother insistent that you all say grace before she began putting heaping servings on to everyone’s plate. 

“So? How was the lake, y/n? I’m sure you and your family had quite the time down there.” Vernon was quick to engage you in conversation. 

Your arm brushed against Elvis’s side every time you moved your fork around on the plate, and each time his stomach did a flip. He found it hard to even focus on eating, so he just moved his food around from one spot to the other, hoping that his mother wouldn’t notice his lack of appetite. If she did, she didn’t comment on it. Instead she was too focused on her role as “matchmaker”. 

“It was wonderful! I got to teach my baby cousin how to swim while we were down there.” Imagining you carefully taking care of your aunt Valerie’s son made his heart seize up. Elvis had always wanted children, and lots of them. He saw how it had completed his own mother and father’s lives, and he wanted that for himself. His career had steadily been taking off, and though he hadn’t really gotten his big break yet, his single ‘That’s Alright’ was doing pretty well. They had just played it on the KWAM radio station the other night, and he had quite literally jumped for joy. Once he was settled enough in his career, he wanted to start a family and get married. Hopefully by some time next year, he might be far enough ahead in his life where that could be something to seriously think about. That is. . . if you ever returned the sentiment. His mother seemed to be thinking the same thing, because her eyes softened. 

“You’d make a mighty fine mama someday. I know you wanted to go to college once your younger sister graduates high school, but I’d hope you’d be thinkin’ ‘bout marriage too right around that time.” Elvis widened his eyes at his mother, his mouth parting in shock at her boldness. 

Your cheeks heated up all over again, but you slowly nodded your head. “I’d like to be able to support my parents someday, which was why I wanted to go and get my education. I do want a family someday though. . . It just depends.” Your southern drawl was as sweet as sugar. Your voice has always been one of the many sources of Elvis’s weak spots for you. He glanced over, catching the way you were looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He swallowed thickly, filling his fork with mashed potatoes so that he could keep himself busy. 

Gladys hummed her approval, but continued to hone in on the subject. Elvis knew that this was going to be a shit show. . . but it was almost like the woman was going out of her way to embarrass him. “Elvis has always wanted a family, ever since he was a little boy. Isn’t that right, baby?” He nearly choked on his food, covering his mouth with his hand as he cleared his throat. You seemed to notice the panic on his face, because you were quick to hand him his glass of sweet tea. He gulped it back appreciatively. 

“The both of you are quite the lookers. If you two ever had any youngins, they’d be models.” It was your turn to choke on your food, narrowly avoiding getting a green bean stuck in your windpipe. Elvis reached out, giving your back a few pats before glaring at his mother. 

“Mama! That’s enough, ya hear? Give it a rest.” He spoke through clenched teeth, shaking his head in disbelief. To say that he was mortified would be an understatement. He knew that the two of you were in for a treat the second that his mother had practically skipped home last night to tell him the news, but god damn it this was horrifying. He was too scared to even look in your direction, fully convinced that the second his parents left the house you would be sure to reject him. It would be brutal, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive it. 

“I was just tryin’ to help-” Gladys started to mumble, but Elvis stood up from the table, the chair loudly scraping against the wooden floors. He tossed his napkin down onto his plate, staring the woman down. 

“Daddy, don’t you think the two of you should start headin’ to the theater? Wouldn’t want ya to be late.” His low voice was thick with humiliation, his lush lashes casting shadows on his cheeks as he turned his attention to his father. The man quickly nodded, standing up so that he could grab Gladys by the arm. “You’re right, son. Come on, dollface. Let’s get goin’.” 

Elvis could tell that his mother was starting to realize the embarrassment she had caused. She was damn near tears as she gave her son a soft pat on the back, and for once in his life he didn’t pay any mind to it. Elvis was a mama’s boy, and proud of it. He had taken care of his parents all of his life, both financially and emotionally. The only thing he asked for was privacy every now and again, because he had always been careful around you for a reason. Losing you would kill him. He’d be absolutely gutted. He shoved his hand into his pocket as the front door closed behind his parents, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He was staring absentmindedly at the table, his mind flying at a mile a minute as he tried to come up with something to say to you. Anything to fix whatever the hell his mother just did. 

Gladys Love Presley might as well have shouted from the rooftop that her son was in love with you. She had just hammered that final nail into his coffin. There was no getting out of this one. Over the many years that the two of you had known each other, he had slipped up on numerous occasions. Just two years ago he had tried to kiss you at a party, and when you had leaned away he had feigned drunkenness when in actuality the man had barely had a drop to drink the entire night. This was worse somehow. He could feel the tension in the air so thick that he could barely breathe. 

“Well, now ya know.” He threw his hands up, his heart pounding with nervousness or anger- he just didn’t know anymore. He couldn’t differentiate between the tsunami of emotions that were washing over him. You kept silent, but he could feel the weight of your gaze. He swallowed thickly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was hopin’ she wouldn’t be so obvious for once in her god damned life.” He moved away from the table, pacing back and forth in the living room. 

“Elvis, I’m not up-” “Just let me talk, okay? I at least want you to hear it from my mouth and not hers. She’s spoken for me my entire life,” He motioned towards the door, tapping his foot angrily. “So I don’t know why I’m shocked.” 

You bit your own lips to keep them from quivering, and he watched you distractedly for a few more seconds before finally taking a deep breath, running his large hands over his face. “I’ve never been able to get you off of my mind. You ran into me in the hallway on our first day of school, do ya remember that?” Despite his darkcast mood, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “You were wearin’ that pink gingham dress? The one your mama forced you to wear. . . and I thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You smelled like gardenias, and were always eating peaches with your packed lunches. You were mean to every boy that ever approached you- but not me.” He shook his head, his voice thick as he remembered the first time he ever saw you. “You were a baby faced daydream of a girl, and I’ve never been able to get enough of you. I never will.” 

Elvis didn’t want to look at you for too long. He could tell by your expression that you were close to tears. He was neck deep into the confession now, and he didn’t want to leave anything out. He had been bursting at the seams for years. Bursting with love, and it felt good to get it all off of his chest. Damn good. 

“I don’t have eyes for anyone else. You asked me why I turned Dixie down last year when she asked me out, and it’s because you’ve blinded me. You’re so bright, I can’t see anyone else. I know you don’t feel the same way that I do. You’ve made it very clear over the years. . . but I just want you to know that I’m madly in love with you. My heart just aches. It’s disgustin’ how much I love you, really.” He laughed humorlessly, kicking his shoe against his mother’s rug. 

He could hear your soft hiccups from across the room, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run to you and hold you, even for just a second, or if he wanted to find some means of escape. Either way, he had done it. There really wasn’t much else for him to say or do, other than just wait to hear what you had to say. He just hoped you’d be nice about it all. You were always kind to him, but maybe he had crossed a line. Maybe he had incurred your wrath somehow. 

He opened his arms out wide at his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally locking his eyes on you. “Go ahead. Get it over with, y/n.” He didn’t want to beat around the bush with the rejection. You needed to rip it off quickly like a band-aid.    

╚══•●•══╝

Your father had tried to emotionally prepare you for the night. He had accepted the invitation on your behalf, knowing everything that Gladys had in mind for the dinner. It was no secret to any of your family or close friends that you were in love with Elvis Presley. He was just as much a part of your everyday life as breathing was. The two of you had done everything together. From attending senior prom to getting drunk for the first time, most young adult milestones had been reached together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Despite your unchanging feelings, you were no stranger to the way that other girls looked at Elvis. You’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful he was. From his sultry blue eyes framed by thick black lashes to his plush lips and perfectly-imperfect smile; Elvis was irresistible. Nobody would ever compare to his looks. And his voice? It was smooth and velvety like honey. You had stopped being nervous around him years ago, and instead suffered your crush internally. Whenever friends or family asked, you always brushed the topic off. Either telling them that you weren’t ready to tell him, or that you were certain that he didn’t feel the same. Either way, it wasn’t time. When was it ever going to be though? The older the two of you got, the more of your old friends from school started getting engaged or married. 

One day Elvis was bound to find someone worth proposing to. One day you’d have to be forthright with him and your feelings. 

Elvis had always turned girls down, and you had gotten too comfortable with that fact. One day the right girl was bound to ask him out, and for once he wouldn’t say no. You’d be left in the dust. So when your father came bounding into the house, his eyes alight with excitement, you couldn’t see what there was to be so happy about. 

“Elvis has something he wants to tell you tomorrow night. Gladys wanted me to make sure you’re at their house for supper.” Your stomach had dropped. What was so exciting? The big news could be a handful of things: he finally found a worthwhile person to manage him, he got a well paying gig, his career was beginning to take off. All you could think about was the fact that he could be telling you that he finally got himself a girl. All night you had practiced your smile in front of the mirror. As you sat there at your vanity, your pink lips pulled back in a wide grin, you couldn’t wipe the sadness from your eyes. Tomorrow was going to be the worst day of your life, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was like knowing you were about to get in a car accident, but you were unable to pull over to the side of the road. You just had to keep driving, hands glued to the steering wheel and foot nailed to the gas pedal. 

You had taken extra care in your appearance that night, even going as far as to apply a soft pink eyeshadow to your lids. If you were going to get your heart broken you at least wanted to look pretty. 

Elvis always looked at you with kind eyes, but the way that he had opened the door that night had left you stunned into silence. Your chest burned like it was on fire. The longer you looked at him, the more in love you fell. Right when you thought that you couldn’t love the boy any more- it was impossible- he would look at you like that. You had quickly searched the living room for any sign of another girl, but found none. The only purse to be seen was Gladys’, and the middle aged woman’s voice was the only one to be heard. 

It wasn’t until Gladys had you cornered in the kitchen that you finally clued in that she had schemed something up for the two of you. Right as you were grabbing all the food that you could fit in your arms, the woman leaned in close, her eyes twinkling. “You’d make the perfect daughter in-law.”  If Elvis and Vernon had noticed the way your face had flushed a bright red, neither of them commented on it. 

Gladys only continued throughout the night, driving the point home. If the news wasn’t about him having a girlfriend, then what could it possibly be? He hadn’t said anything about his singing yet. The more aggravated and embarrassed Elvis became throughout the dinner, the more confused you became. 

It wasn’t until Elvis mentioned his parent’s surprise movie date that it all finally clicked. 

You’d never seen the man get so upset with his mother before. Sure, she could get a bit overbearing and annoying at times, but he had more patience than anyone else you’d ever met before. He treated his parents like they were his own children, and never minded their meddling before now. His cheeks were red with anger, a few pieces of black hair falling out of place as he began to pace in the living room. They hung in his eyes, bouncing a bit with his constant movement. “Elvis, I’m not up-” You wanted to let him know that you weren’t upset with him or his mother, but he cut you off before you could get the words out. 

You didn’t know that you were holding your breath until you felt as though you were going to faint. You sucked in a deep breath, watching him with wide, teary eyes once he finally turned to face you. He had always been a poet, in his own right. He wrote beautiful songs, but you never had prepared yourself for such sugar-coated words to be spoken to you so directly like this. You weren’t sure what to say. How in the world were you ever supposed to say anything half as romantic and as beautiful as that, especially in the heat of the moment like this? You sniffled softly, wiping at your tear stained cheeks before you stood up on shaky legs. His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, so despite his calm expression, you could tell that he was panicking. He had never been so vulnerable like this in front of you. 

You began making your way up to him, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his expression. He noticed your tears, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Just say what you need to say.” He assured you, his arms dropping back down to his sides. It was crazy, but he really thought that you were about to turn down his affections. There wasn’t even a shred of hope in his bright blue eyes. 

“You’re either blind,” Your voice shook as you spoke, but you kept going. “Or an idiot, EP.” His eyebrows slowly began to furrow in confusion. He licked his dry lips before opening his mouth. “You don’t have to insult me too, ya know. Jesus.” His eyes began filling with tears, and that was all it took. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing his face contorted with pain, his eyes so very blue and so very sad- it pushed you over the edge. You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to your height. Your movement was so rough and jerky that one of the buttons even flew off, but you paid it no mind. There was no time for apologies. 

His lips felt full and plush against your own, albeit a little chapped from the way he had been nervously chewing them during dinner. You had been kissed, but only once before. It had been a horrible slobbery mess, and even though Elvis had laughed at your expense all those years ago, you could tell that he was upset. Now you recognized it as jealousy. 

You poured everything you could into that kiss, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks and hold him in place as you slowly moved your lips against his, the tip of your tongue gently lapping against his bottom lip. You were easing him into it, and judging by his hands that shakily wrapped around your waist, he was terrified shitless. Scared or not, he was excited out of his mind to finally kiss you. Taste you. His unsure hands tightened their hold, his large hand sliding up from your hip to your back, pressing you flush against him. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and the second that it registered to Elvis, he gasped against your lips. 

“I don’t know what I’m doin'.” He mumbled shyly against your mouth, his hot breath fanning over your face. You allowed your eyes to flutter open, your thumbs brushing against his warm cheeks. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did right then. His eyes were half lidded and laden with a lust that he still didn’t quite understand. His cheeks were flushed, and as you pulled back a little more so that you could get a better look at him, his lips looked pink and kissed. You breath locked up in your chest as you noticed his eyes still looked watery. You moved your hand upwards, gathering up one of the unshed tears that had become tangled in his thick lower lashes. “I don’t either.” You admitted with a smile. He chuckled, his hand moving further up your back so that he could gently cup the back of your neck. “Let’s learn together.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so bold, but it was worth it to see his reaction. 

He hurriedly pressed his lips against yours, the both of you slowly moving backwards. Neither of you were sure where you were trying to go, but you just knew that you needed to get closer somehow. One of your hands moved from his face as you felt something pressing against your lower back, moving to try and blindly figure out just what it was. Elvis didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the two of you had ended up back in the dining room. He wordlessly bent down, placing his hands at the back of your thighs so that he could sit you down on the table. It was his turn to run his tongue along your bottom lip, and you wasted no time granting him access. The two of you explored each other’s mouths tentatively at first, but the more time went on, the more hungry the both of you became. He couldn’t get enough of you. His hands shook with the weight of his neediness, his hands moving from your neck, to your hair, grabbing a fistful as he held you more firmly against him. The two of you had fallen into a pattern, and in a matter of seconds the kiss no longer felt inexperienced. The both of you moved your lips against one another as if you could somehow devour the other. You parted for a second so that you could take a few deep breaths, and Elvis took that time to press his lips against your chin, your cheek, and down your neck. 

You spread your legs so that he could step between them, your hands shaking as they gripped at the fabric of his cotton shirt. It felt like every single nerve ending was on fire. Anywhere he touched felt like someone was holding a flame to it. His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, his needy hands moving over your thighs, up your stomach, and stopping just below the swell of your breasts. His thumbs gently dug into the soft skin there, but it wasn’t enough for you. “For the love of god, touch me.” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. Elvis let out a loud groan against your skin, his hands moving up to cup you through the bodice of your dress. 

Your breasts felt heavy with want, even in his hands. He added pressure, his ring and middle finger pressing against your hardening nipples. You let out a loud yelp, your hips bucking on their own accord. Elvis’s hips jerked forward as he felt your core brush against his own, ripping his face out of your neck so that he could stare down at you with wide eyes. His pupils were completely blown out, his eyes more black than blue at this point. The noise you had let out as his hips moved against yours had been sinful. Never in your life had anything even remotely similar left your lips. He wanted to see what he was doing to you, so he moved his hips again but slower this time. Your jaw dropped, your lips parting as you felt him pressing against you. The movement directly stimulated your clit, and you couldn’t help but jerk against him slightly. It felt too good. 

It was almost too much, but still not enough, all at the same time. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him, concentrating hard on not making a sound. You weren’t sure why but it was embarrassing. Elvis’s lips also parted as he repeated the action, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he licked his lips, his arm wrapping around you so that he could get a better angle. He pressed against you harder, moving his head down to press a kiss against your top lip. “Make that sound again for me, baby. Please.” He sounded so good when he was begging for your validation. He wanted to know that he was making you feel good. He wanted to know that he was doing right by you, and god was he. Your eyes nearly rolled back at the mere sound of his voice, so deep it was practically a hum. 

His hand lowered from your back to your bottom, and he gripped hard, physically moving you against him in time with his hips. You moaned so loudly you could feel the sound reverberating in your chest. “Oh fuck.” You distantly heard him curse, but you were too focused on what he was doing to you to really understand what was going on around you. Your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers fumbling as they tried to undo the buttons. It must have been taking too long, because Elvis’s hands moved to cover yours. “J-Just rip-” He gently brushed your hands away gripping the front of his shirt with shaky hands. He moved his mouth down to yours, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. “Rip it.” He was breathless as he tugged at the shirt, the buttons popping off with small snapping sounds. He must have decided that unbuttoning the shirt would have taken too long, because the second that he felt air against his chest he moved your hands towards him, wordlessly begging you to feel him. You swallowed back his hot pants as he breathed against your lips, your hands moving against his soft skin. Your small hands brushed against the expanse of his chest, starting just above his belly button and moving upwards. The tips of your nails gently scraped against his nipples, and he jerked forward, letting out a small hiss. “I’m sorry.” You were quick to apologize, but he shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours as he searched your eyes. “I-I liked it.” 

Your eyelashes fluttered as you moved your hands up and over his shoulders. Despite his skinny frame, he was toned. You pulled away from his face, smiling softly as he tried to follow you, not wanting to be parted from you for even a second. You let your eyes brush over his chest, moving the shirt down his shoulders so that you could get your fill. For a second, even through the haze of lust, Elvis’s eyes flashed with uncertainty as he watched you take him all in. Sure, it was just his chest, but for a second he was scared that he might be too scrawny for your tastes. The second that your eyes finally met his, all doubts flew right out the window. He wet his lips as he took in your expression, his heart hammering in his chest. Never in his life had he ever seen a more beautiful girl. This look- this expression- was all for him. If he had anything to say about it, no one else would ever see you in this position. 

You were just his. All his. You knew it, and now he knew it too. “I love you.” His voice was so quiet that you barely heard it, and suddenly he had you laid out on the table, moving to push plates and silverware down or off the table- he didn’t care. You laughed against his mouth as a glass cup filled with tea shattered on the floor next to him. “Damn it.” He cursed with a smile, quickly going back to having his fill of your lips. His hands gently moved from the back of your knees to your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soft skin. 

He was damn near petting you, groaning into your mouth as he pressed himself flush against your core. You could feel him better at this angle, your eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before squeezing closed. He must have been painfully hard, and part of you were scared that if it already felt this good, that you might never want to stop. You loved him so much it was physically beginning to hurt. Never in your life did you ever want to be parted from this boy. Not even for a second. You opened your eyes again as his tongue pressed against yours, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kissed you. The ceiling light in the dining room hung directly overhead, looking more like a halo than anything to your tear blurred eyes. “I love you.” Elvis pulled away then, bracing one arm against the wooden table as he stared down at you, trying to decide if he had really heard you say that to him. He blinked a few times before he melted against you, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He pressed kisses against the flushed skin there. “Say it again.” 

“I love you.” His hands had snaked under your back then, lifting you up and off of the table. He backed up and out of the room, giving your small form a small squeeze. “Again.” 

“I love you.” He was walking blindly through the house, holding one arm against the nearest wall so that he could feel for the doorway. He peeked his eyes up from your shoulder, making the final couple of steps into his bedroom. He closed the door with his foot, shuffling over towards the bed. “Again.” He sounded breathless now, his voice thick with emotion. 

“Oh god, do I love you.” He placed a knee on the bed, gently setting you down before crawling over your form. His bottom lip quivered as he sat up on his knees, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. His hands moved to his belt, but he stopped himself. “I don’t want ya to feel pressured. How far were you wantin’ to go?” You knew that all you had to do was say the word and that Elvis would have stopped at any point. You were nervous, admittedly so, but you could tell that he was just as scared, if not maybe a little more so. The both of you seemed to want the same thing though. The both of you had already gone too far to back down now. You wanted him to be inside of you. Your body was humming with need at this point, the constant touches to your core working you up to the point of damn near frenzy. You were past the point of being nervous of what you were saying to him. You were usually careful with your words, but any and all shame had flown out of your body the second his lips had made contact with your neck. “I want you inside of me. Right now.” 

He let out a small whimper, his hands moving as quickly as they physically could as he removed his belt, tossing it onto the floor and doing the same thing with his pants. You were already sitting up, your hands moving to the zipper of your dress. You shrugged it off of you, kicking it down to the foot of the bed once it was off of you. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, but Elvis was on you in the blink of an eye, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, his hips nestling in between your legs. You could tell by the way he was staring at you that he truly liked what he was seeing. 

Elvis always looked at you with honest eyes, soft and kind for you always. But he was staring at you now like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on, and you were. He loved you. Every inch of you. He’d loved you since your embarrassing high school years, and over time the feelings had only managed to grow. They deepened with your bond, and at this point he was sure that he couldn’t love you any more than he already did. There was just no possible way. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your lips, his hand moving up your thigh slowly, as if he were testing the waters. He was giving you a chance to back out. You didn’t say a word. His fingers finally brushed against you, gathering up a bit of your slick before gently moving upwards, continuing his exploration. The second his fingers brushed against your clit, you couldn’t hold back your obscene moan. Elvis was a fast learner, repeating the motion again and again as he pressed his finger against you in circular motions. Your body’s natural instincts took over, your hips rocking back and forth against your hands as he continued to bury his hand in between your legs. You could feel his cock against your inner thigh, completely unclothed now. Your hands moved down to feel him, but his free hand stopped you before you could. “I wanna make you feel good.” He said simply. Elvis’s blue eyes pinned you down, watching as you panted and writhed beneath him. After some time he sped up his ministrations, which elicited even more ungodly sounds from you. He ate it all up like a man starved, his jaw slack, his lips swollen from the constant kissing. You could feel yourself starting to come undone, your head pressed against the mattress. Your breathing sped up, and your heart rate with it. Elvis could tell that you were about to climax. He might have been a virgin, but that didn’t mean he was an idiot. Men often had no filter, and not all of his friends were as inexperienced as he was. 

He repositioned his fingers, moving so that his thumb was pressed against your clit, moving to bury two of his fingers into your cunt. You yelped in surprise, but found that it wasn’t uncomfortable like you once thought it might be. Your hands gripped his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your palm as he continued his movement. You felt something building up in your abdomen, your eyes beginning to fill with tears as the pleasure reached its peak. 

“That’s it, baby.” Elvis mumbled, feeling you flutter around his fingers, watching your face closely as you threw back your head, your body quivering as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, and for a second you swore that you had gone blind, your vision going white. After a few seconds you finally sucked in a deep breath, Elvis growling low in his chest as you tried to back away from him. The pleasure was getting to be too much. “Please,” You begged breathlessly, blinking back tears. “I need you.” You were beginning to get overstimulated, but the second that Elvis removed his fingers you felt the need to cry out. You felt so empty. 

You gripped at him wildly, your nails digging into his skin as he reached down, wrapping his large hand around his cock. You finally took the opportunity to look down at him, having not gotten a good look at him earlier. What you had felt and what you were now seeing were two completely different things. Sure, you’d never actually seen anyone’s dick before, but this exceeded your expectations. Even compared to his large hands, the man was huge. You swallowed thickly, leaning up slightly so that you could press your forehead against his. 

His head was an angry pink, begging to be touched in some way. Precum beaded down the entire length of him, the man dripping with need. Elvis watched you, trying to decipher your expression. Once he was positive that you had gotten a good look at him, he wasted no more time. He pressed his head against your entrance, both his own precum and your slick making it easy for him to press his way in. You were so turned on- so ready- that your body practically sucked him in. 

Elvis’s breathing was so loud that you could hear it, his chest rising and falling wildly. He was fighting off his base urges, wanting nothing more than to press all the way in and fuck you into the mattress. You could see the pulse in his neck, thumping away wildly as he stared down at you. Once he was sure that you were fine he pressed in further, repeating the process until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Despite the fact that your orgasm had warmed you up for what was to come, it did very little to spare you the pain. It was sharp and sudden, but dissipated just as quickly as it came. Elvis let you cling to him and didn’t say a word when your nails dug in a little too deep for comfort. His free hand cupped your cheek, shushing your soft whimpers and kissing your cheeks. You could feel him quivering against you, as if the emotions and sensations were too much for him to handle. He only began to move once he was positive that you were alright, pressing his forehead against yours as he watched you closely. His eyelashes brushed against yours when his eyes fluttered, his breath shuttering across your lips. His hips moved slowly at first, his moans quiet and under his breath. The second that you raked your nails down his back, letting out a moan of your own, he was gone. It was almost as though he just snapped. 

He sat up, pressing your back into the mattress as his hands moved to your hips. The different angle caused him to press against your cervix, and for a second it was painful. You cried out, gripping the comforter tightly in your hands as he continued to fuck into you. His moans turned to grunts, and then into growls. They rumbled low in his throat, the sound doing dangerous things to you. His jaw ticked as he watched you. He loved the way that your back arched, watching your breasts as they bounced with his frenzied movements. Elvis might not have known what he was doing, but he was going off of pure animalistic instinct. Never in all of his life did he think anything could feel this good. Your walls were soft and velvety, and pressed tight tight tight against him. If he had thought that he couldn’t live without you before, now he was certain. Elvis could have eaten you alive. 

His hips continued their assault as one of his hands moved back down to your core, pressing against that same spot that caused you so much pleasure before. Your walls instantly tightened around him, causing him to cry out at the sudden wave of pleasure. He was close, and he was positive that no matter what he did, he wasn’t going to last long. He wanted to do whatever he could to make you cum right along with him. His fingers moved against her wet core along with his thrusts, the two feelings combined almost too much for you to wrap your brain around. You could feel him everywhere. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and yet you couldn’t stop shivering. “Please, please, please.” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, just that you wanted something. No- you needed something. 

“I wanna cum inside.” Elvis’s voice was shaky from exertion, a thin sheen on his chest and beading on his brow. You were too blissed out to think too hard about whatever consequences that might have. All you knew was that you wanted more. Anything that he could give you of himself, you wanted it. You nodded quickly, moving your hips against his the best that you could. You could feel your own climax boring down on you like a weight, your walls already beginning to flutter around him. He leaned his torso over yours, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth. His lips muffled your cries of pleasure as you came and came hard. He followed close behind you, rutting into you a few more times before he broke the kiss so that he could press his face against your throat. You jumped slightly at the sudden warmth that began to pool in your abdomen. His hips pumped in and out of you every few seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You were starting to come down from your high, but you still managed to lazily move your hips against his, wanting all of it. Every last drop. You didn’t want any of it to go to waste. Not when it could be filling you up. 

He peppered your face with soft kisses, and it wasn’t until he pulled away that you realized that he must have been crying at some point, his eyes slightly red and his cheeks wet. “I love you.” You didn’t need to be assured, but at this point he was saying it just to say it. Just because he could. “My bestest girl.” He smiled down at you, rubbing small circles into your flushed cheeks with his thumb. 

You hummed lazily, finding it hard to keep your eyes open for too long. Elvis appeared to be wide awake, leaning his head against his hand as stared at you. After a few more seconds he slowly pulled out of you, and you couldn’t help but wince as you felt liquid leaking out of you. He reached down, using his ruined shirt to carefully wipe you up. He took his time, making sure that you were alright before pulling the comforter up and around you. “I’m goin’ to go get somethin’ to drink, alright?” He slipped his trousers back on, closing the door behind him as he stepped out of the room. Distantly you heard the front door open, Gladys and Vernon’s voices filling the small home. 

“Oh. . . did y/n leave already?” There was an awkward silence before you could hear the sink turn on in the kitchen. It only took the middle aged woman a few seconds to notice the broken glass. “What in the sam hell happened in here? Elvis Aaron Presley- you broke one of my good cups!” There was a mumbled sorry and the sound of shattered glass being tossed into the metal garbage bin. You waited with bated breath for him to return, pulling the blanket further up around yourself just in case someone walked in. “Gladys. . . baby. . . let’s go and head to our room, alright? I think y/n’s still here, darlin’.” It was obvious that Vernon had clued in on what happened immediately. You could hear the discomfort in his voice as he spoke. “She’s here and you’re lookin’ like that? Put on a shirt. . . “ Her voice trailed off, and for a second you were sure that both you and Elvis were goners. “So does this mean you two are goin’ steady? Really? Oh, Elvis. . . I’m so happy for you.” She lowered her voice in the hopes that you might not hear her, but her voice was naturally loud. “Thank you mama. Do you mind ringin’ up her folks and lettin’ them know she’ll be staying the night? I’ll sleep on the couch if need be-” You had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. Well, it was moot-point now. Gladys seemed to think the same thing. “Her father and I were just sayin’ yesterday how badly we wanted to see you two together. They’ll be over the moon. Head to bed now, alright? I’ll call her mama right now.” 

Elvis slipped into the room a second later, handing you a glass of water that you happily gulped down. He flicked the light off, crawling into bed beside you. “I thought she was going to kill me.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You placed the glass down on the bedside table, laying back against the pillows. Elvis moved to lay on his side, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Now they’ll be gunnin’ for us to get engaged. I’ll never hear the end of it at home.” Your mother was already quite the nag. She’d be relentless when you got home tomorrow. “Give me a month.” He mumbled sleepily, moving to lace his fingers with yours. You closed your eyes tightly, your cheeks flushing all over again. “A whole month? Really?” You teased quietly. He chuckled softly, placing a warm kiss against your shoulder before he fully settled into the mattress.

 “Fine. A week.” And it didn’t sound like he was joking, either. 

want to continue reading this story? check out part two.

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler elvis #elvis #austin butler smut #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley smut #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann #austin butler fanfic #foreverdolly #smut #imagine #elvis presley imagine #elvis x reader #elvis movie

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

YOU CAME

❒ words: 619

❒ summary: The night before Jungkook's enlistment

❒ pairing: Jungkook x 8thmember!OC

❒ notes: find notes at the bottom

December 11, 2023

A Fool

A fool to think she could be indifferent, a fool to think she could bear the separation, to say goodbye to him only in front of the cameras, to wish him to stay healthy and to take care of himself in front of everyone, Chaeri felt like an idiot. A fool to believe she could have stayed home the night before his departure.

Chaeri's AirPods were out of battery, and the volume on her cell phone was set to maximum, yet she didn't mind. She didn’t care that Jungkook's faint voice was echoing in the dim alley she was hurrying through, just having stepped out of the dark car that had hastily brought her to that point.

The pajama sweatpants she wore, not having had time to change into jeans, were lightweight. However, she remained unaffected by the biting winter wind, the weather gearing up for the first snow of that Christmas season. It would be the first snow she'd experience without her group, or rather, without her family, in 10 years.

The hoodie she had on was oversized, so much so that she had to repeatedly pull up the sleeves that kept sliding down her arms, extending to cover her hands, which made it challenging for her to hold the phone.

She knew the rest of the way by heart, so she allowed herself to stare at Jungkook's tired, sad face through the cell phone screen. 

He was giggling over a comment about the dryer being active just hours before he started his military career, but the laughter didn't genuinely reflect in his eyes

The boy she had grown up with, the one who slept in the bed next to hers when all eight of them shared a single room, her best friend, her first kiss, her first love—the boy who had strained his voice singing to her until her nightmares faded away.

Her family.

He was going to leave in a few hours, and she would see him again, God knew when.

She was stupid to think that she could stay at her place without feeling the need to look him in the eye to bid him farewell, without the pressure of pretending and calculating words, smiles, looks. 

"I'll miss you," Jungkook said, his voice soft, warm, almost hoarse. Chaeri knew him better than anyone else, knew for a fact that he would cry as soon as the live broadcast ended. And she had to be there. She owed it to him.

Despite all.

The janitor of the building where he lived recognized her right away; there was no need to show him documents or go through the necessary checks to ensure safety for the residents. She was grateful, as she was in such a hurry that she probably would not have stopped if he had tried.

She quickly made the decision to run up the stairs, two by two, as the elevator would be too slow, and she needed to reach there immediately. She felt the physical urgency.

The phone display went black; Jungkook had concluded the live, and she was right outside his door.

Gasping, her cheeks red from running.

The UGG TAZZs on her feet had only made it more challenging, threatening to trip her up more than once, but she was there. Finally.

Her long black hair stuck out messily from the ponytail she had tied back at home; she was stripped of her makeup, utterly unkempt, and hardly presentable. Yet, when the door slowly opened, and Jungkook's face appeared, his eyes wet with the tears she had anticipated, she felt perfectly in order. 

Perfectly as she was supposed to be. 

Perfectly where she was supposed to be.

“You came”

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

❒ notes: Hiii. I wrote this out of the blue, it's 4:15 in the morning here, but I couldn't go to sleep without posting it How are you?

I think I'll feel Jungkook's enlistment even more. His live sessions gave me comfort and helped me sleep during difficult times.

As for the story, just to clarify, this is not the end hehe

#bts 8th member #bts female addition #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabbles #bts drabble #kpop female member #bts imagines #bts female member #kpop female oc #bts x reader #bts addition #bts eighth member #bts

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: june/july

summary: you and carmy plan a wedding like it's the opening of a new restaurant.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov

wc: 3.4k

listen to: let's get married (bleachers cover) - mitski

a/n: the long awaited wedding FIC!! welcome to part four of the 'make my heart surrender' universe (four part series). this takes place a month after the end of 'still into you' but before the carmy as your baby daddy headcanon series (my carmy masterlist is organized chronologically, if you'd like to read in order). anyways, i truly adore writing for these two and feel it important to note that after watching season 2, i've realized this has just become an animal of its own -- its own universe/timeline/entity which also means there AREN'T any SEASON TWO SPOILERS! this chapter was inspired by a conversation from two months ago between me and @carmensberzattos so courtesy of us, enjoy some healthy relationship-future husband!carmy. also don't worry syd will be starring in the next chapter. i missed her too. lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist.

masterlist | part two

"let's just get married, don't wanna walk alone, so let's get married, 'cause we don't wanna walk alone or runaway." (bleachers, let's get married.)

'I just want to be married to you' are the words uttered (first by you, you think, but maybe he said it first, you really can’t remember) that lead you and Carmy to the decision that you should elope. Sooner rather than later, preferably, is what you both agree on. It’s not like you’re planning on having a big wedding anyways. How much work can a civil ceremony at City Hall and a nice dinner party afterwards be to pull off?

Famous last words. 

You’re not sure how you’ve gotten from there to here, locked in a heated debate over menu edits with your fiance in the middle of your shared apartment when the sun’s just barely come up, but here you are.

“I’m just saying that we should be open minded and leave room for his artistic integrity!” Carmy passionately argues, winding you up as he makes his case. 

“Artistic integrity? Carmy, are you kidding me right now? I-!” you fire back, shaking your head incredulously. “We said we were gonna keep everything chill.”

“It is chill!” he defends, matter-of-factly.

Oh, he’s just looking for a fight.

“There is nothing chill about a parm espuma and it certainly doesn’t belong anywhere near the carbonara!” you scoff, stubbornly. “I mean, the only reason he even brought up the idea of a goddamn espuma in the first place is because he was trying to impress you.”

Carmy’s jaw twitches in response as he grinds his teeth, a display of discomfort at the mere thought.

“He-he was not,” he denies with the kind of conviction of a five year old toddler who's sure as can be.

You shoot him a look. 

“Carmen,” you warn him. 

Sure it’s a silly thing to fight about, but there’s no malice in this argument. It’s all passion, artistry, and for lack of a better term, foreplay. You let out a sigh, softening before you rise out of your chair. 

“Baby, when are you going to admit that you’re kind of a big deal and that people want to impress you?” you level with him, making your way over to your very stubborn and very insistent fiance. You settle down onto his lap, before tucking a stray curl behind his ear as you break, giving the sweetest smile.

He laughs dryly, averting his eyes from you because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand his ground (especially when you’re looking at him like that). 

You’re right. And he knows you’re right. 

And Carmy’s never been able to resist you for long anyways. 

A fox-like grin spreads across your lips and you know you’ve won the argument when you feel a pair of hands snake around your waist. 

“Don’t push it,” he warns you, seeing the look on your face as he shakes his head, finally returning his eyes to yours. 

You raise an eyebrow, “You like that I push.” 

He nods slowly in surrender, his face softening as he asks you:

“You really want to fight about this?” 

You shake your head with a laugh. 

“No, of course not! Of course, I don’t want to fight about this!” you exhale, sliding your hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. “But I do think that your new buddy is trying to impress us and that it may be wise for us to reign him in – clear the air on what it is we’re looking for.” 

A beat. 

“Don’t get me wrong. Of course, we can leave room for creativity… but I don’t want our wedding party to turn into some pretentious fine dining fancy party.”

“Well, we did meet because of some pretentious fine dining fancy thing,” he points out, giving your hip a squeeze. 

You giggle, “How could I forget?”

You shake your head once more, leaning in to press your lips against his. Carmy inhales deeply, enjoying the feel of your lips on his, your arms wrapped around his neck, the weight of your body on his lap. 

You indulge him for a moment, deepening the kiss as you feel your future husband relax against you, because you really are happy that Carmy’s made a new friend. 

Carmy had met a private chef a few months ago and had been trying to hire him for the restaurant for a while now. Wanting to work for himself, the chef had respectfully declined all advances, but he and Carmy had kept in touch, and it looked as if the relationship could potentially extend outside of the four walls of a kitchen. Since you both agreed that no one from the restaurant should work the party, it had been good timing (making a new friend and the fact that he was a private chef) and the right move for Carmy to ask his new friend to cater the wedding.

“Fine,” you resign yourself, pulling away from the kiss. “Derek can keep the liquid nitrogen but that is as far as it goes.”

Carmy shoots you a look – one that says he’s not quite convinced. 

“And I will be more open minded in the spirit of… artistic integrity. But I’m not changing my mind about courses. Family style or bust, baby,” you negotiate, a serious look in your eyes. 

Carmy thinks it over for a moment before finally coming to a resolution. 

“Deal,” Carmy nods with the same intensity as a ‘yes, chef.’

You nod too, completing the agreement. 

“I want it to be real, Carm. I want it to be us,” you reiterate, your voice soft as you make your condition loud and clear. 

“I know,” he returns, just as determined and committed to the idea as he is to you. 

You’re satisfied with the resolution – even more satisfied with the fact that you’ve come to it together. 

“You know…” he starts, something in his voice that you can’t quite make out, unsure if you’re going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth. “... it could be a perfect menu if you just let me-.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Carmen!” you interrupt, knowing exactly what he was going to say. 

You are so not playing this game today.

“You don’t even know what I was-!”

“Yes, I do! You are not catering your own wedding party,” you protest, adamantly.  

You know him too well. 

He laughs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair, like he’s in high school again, and you’ve just caught him sneaking back into the house. 

“God, I love you! But sometimes you drive me up the wall, Carm,” you groan out of frustration, eliciting another laugh from his chest as you hang your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder this time.

“Such a control freak,” you sigh, against his chest. 

“Thought you like it when I take control,” he murmurs, beginning to leave kisses across your exposed skin. 

You giggle partially because it tickles, and mostly because of what Carmy’s said. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

You lift your head and Carmy kisses you again, this time savoring the way your lips feel against his for a little while longer – just long enough to remind himself that he wants to have the option to sneak away in the middle of your wedding party to have sex much more than he wants cater to be in control all the time. 

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, control is overrated anyways. 

Only sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, letting go of the idea. “I’ll get back to Derek about final menu edits and make sure he knows that while we want him to be creative, we also want to keep it… you know….”

“Chill?” you emphasize. 

“Chill,” he confirms.

“Okay. Thank you, baby,” you smile softly, trying your best to enjoy the temporary moment of peace between the two of you. Carm squeezes your hip as you roll your eyes with a sigh, muttering an:

“Oh fuck.” 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head again, laughing incredulously before letting out another sigh. 

“Just wait till we go through this again with the cake.”

“Fuck!” Carmy shouts towards the ceiling, throwing his head back as you laugh. “Why did we say we wanted to plan a wedding again?”

“Well baby, I don’t think either of us can pass up on a chance to create a menu,” you giggle, leaving a few kisses along his jawline before you make your way up to his nose. “Can you imagine if we decided to have a full-on wedding? That’d be a freaking mess.”

He chuckles, “It’d be like opening another restaurant.”

“Yeah, pass,” you hum, so glad to have dodged that bullet.

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

By the time you and Carmy are even ready to focus on the cake portion of said wedding-dinner-party it’s a month later. You’ve been through half of the bakeries in the city, you think, and something’s just felt off. You’re practically eating your words, as it dawns on you that you’re having the exact same thought as Carmy: that it could just be perfect if you were able to make it yourself. 

Then again, you remind yourself that a cake is an entirely different thing versus running a dinner service, so it can’t be that unhinged to have these thoughts, right?

But you and Carmy made an agreement, so in solidarity, you decide it’s only fair for you to make like Tammy Wynette and stand by your man. 

You’re grateful for the half day you have today (“Summer Fridays”, as it’s so fondly referred to around your office) – and the fact that you get to work from home. What it means for you is that today you can clock out early and pick up samples from the tenth bakery (okay, so maybe it’s the eleventh but truthfully, you’ve lost count) in the running for your wedding cake. 

You change out of your pajamas for the first time today, throwing on a slip dress and one of Carmy’s crisp, white Ralph Lauren button downs – worn layered and open like a cardigan – before you head to the bakery, and then eventually, The Bear.

The restaurant is closed for the afternoon, as they do a shift change over: some stay and take a break, others go home, let the dinner crew come in and take over. It’s different these days and while some days you miss it – the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sounds of an ‘all day’ shouted by the expeditor, the careful dance that is working in a kitchen – you remind yourself that you’re enjoying a half day, and that when you’d chosen to leave, you were ready for a change. 

After entering The Bear, you make small talk with Gary while he finishes turning over the dining room for dinner, catching up over the flag football league he’s recently joined – one, it seems, to be taken very seriously by all participants. You tell him that you’re here with wedding cake samples, and he’s more than eager to give you some space to set up, because who doesn’t love free cake? Mid-sentence, Gary gestures towards a table for you to set up on, as you begin to unpack your large brown paper bag. 

“Well, well. Look who it is,” Marcus calls out, as soon as he sees you. “Heard a rumor you were out here. You brought cake?”

“I brought cake,” you repeat as confirmation, turning to see your dear friend and mentee. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about yours the whole time.”

He snickers, moving in for a hug. 

“‘S Good to see you, Chef. How ya been?” he asks, enveloping you in his arms for a tight squeeze. 

“Good to see you too, Marcus. I’m good. Had a half day today so… you know, we’ve just been busy with wedding stuff. But what’s going on with you? What’s new?” you answer, turning the focus back onto him. 

“Oh you know. The usual. Though, I’ve been workin’ on some new shit for Syd’s new menu when I’m not here,” he answers, a broad smile spreading across his lips as he talks about. 

“Jeez, Brooks. I know, Carm’s got ya busy. When the hell do you ever sleep?” you ask, as you shake your head. 

“I don’t,” he answers plainly. 

And just as you’re about to remind Marcus to get some rest, Sugar comes bursting through the front doors, her rounded belly full on display now that she’s had a chance to tell almost everyone the news of her pregnancy. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late,” Sugar says, announcing her arrival. “Got tied up running an errand and then I had to stop at the store for Tums. This baby is killing me with the heartburn these days. Fucking christ.” 

“Oh, no big deal. I haven’t even seen Carmy yet,” you shrug, as she mutters a surprised ‘oh’ and Marcus mumbles something about going to get Carmy. “It’s good to see you!”

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus shouts, heading back to the kitchen while you and Sugar exchange hellos. 

“Awww, it’s good to see you too, sweetie,” she smiles, pulling you in for your second hug of the day. 

This is something you miss about working in the kitchen: the camaraderie, the found-family, all the love. 

“Wow this is… quite the spread,” Sugar mentions, eyeing the cakes you’ve laid out on the table.

“Yeah… they had a lot of ideas, I guess,” you say with a shrug. 

Sugar shoots you an unconvinced look. 

“Okay, fine.  I had a lot of ideas…” you admit guiltily. 

“...aaaand no one is going to do it the way you want it to be done,” Sugar sighs in the middle of your sentence. 

“And they were more than willing to play. I couldn’t help myself!” you finish, defending yourself. 

“Well, your enthusiasm is one of the many things I love about you, but… yeah, this is a lot,” Sugar grins as she gestures towards the overwhelming amount of cake you’ve just laid out on the table. 

Regardless, Sugar really can’t wait to be your sister-in-law. 

“Speaking of… I thought this was just a small wedding. It looks like you’re preparing to feed the entire French Army during Marie Antoinette’s reign.”

“Oh it still is – small,” you answer, simply. “I went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Why go through all this trouble? You might as well have a small ceremony instead of-,”

“No!” you protest, hearing another voice say the same thing. 

“Sugar, we’ve already told you that we don’t want to do anything big!” Carmy adds, as soon as he enters the dining room. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, sending you the softest smile as he looks your way.

“Hey you,” you smile in return as he approaches you, giving him a short ‘hello’ peck on the lips. 

“Fak attack!” Fak cries out, as he enters the dining room. “Ooooh cake tasting!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, as Fak is quickly followed by some of the line cooks that have just wrapped up lunch service. 

It’s then that you hear Tina’s voice, growling something in Spanish as Richie speaks way too loudly about god knows what, as Ebra follows behind, somehow in the middle of a story that has little to do with whatever Tina and Richie are going on about. 

You smile to yourself, because you really do miss this part. 

“I told everyone we were doing a cake tasting,” Carmy starts, gesturing towards the rest of the staff as they join you. “That cool?”

“Totally. We have more than enough to share,”

“That’s true,” Sugar says. "And I can't complain because the baby is reeeeaaally craving cake these days."

As everyone at The Bear crowd around the circular dining table where you set up the cake tasting, you all enjoy bites here and there, comparing notes, sharing reactions to each flavor combo. 

Earl grey & lemon. A classic red velvet. And of course, you had to get a little weird with the black sesame clementine combination you’d dreamed up with the pastry chef you’d been working with. 

“I think my favorite is the black sesame and clementine but I doubt it’s a cake everyone will like. Doesn’t have the crowd appeal we probably should keep in mind,” you murmur to Carmy as the two of you watch his staff go on about the tiramisu-inspired one. 

“Well, babe, it’s our wedding! We can do whatever we want,” he encourages you. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, paralyzed with indecision. 

“The tiramisu one is good. I’m leaning towards that,” Carmy shares with you, eager to hear your thoughts. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little too on the nose?” you reply, unsettled and unsure that any of these are right. 

“Why don’t you guys just let me make it?” Marcus interjects, asking the question he’s been wondering this entire time. 

“I-,” you start, unable to help the fact that your eyes begin to wet with emotion. “Really?” 

He laughs, glancing sideways at you. 

“Uh yeah. I’m a little offended neither of you did in the first place,” Marcus teases the two of you, though you know there’s some truth to it. 

You and Carmy exchange a look that says something along the lines of: ‘oh shit.’

“Well, we didn’t think you’d-,” you stammer, beginning to explain the why behind you and Carmy’s hesitation in the first place.

“We just thought you’d want to- that you should be able to enjoy the party,” Carmy adds, finishing your sentence, his eyes widening as he realizes that you both kinda fucked up. 

“Chefs,” he says, looking from you to Carmy once more, with a seriousness in his voice as he rises to his feet. “It would be my honor. And just because I’m makin’ the cake doesn’t mean I won’t be able to enjoy the party. I can do it in the days leading up to it.”

“Oh-, okay, yes! Yes!” you cry, leaping to your feet this time, as if you’re accepting Carmy’s proposal again. 

Richie rolls his eyes in response, groaning as he mutters something snarky to Fak, as Marcus pulls you into the biggest bear hug. 

“You all are a bunch of saps,” he scoffs, directing this next comment to Marcus this time. “You big softie!”

“Richie!” Sugar hisses, glaring the sharpest daggers from her eyeballs into Richie’s skull. 

“Oh fuck off, Richie,” you snort, with a laugh. “You’re just salty because… wait. Carm, you haven’t asked him yet?”

“Babe, I-,” Carmy whines, his eyes wide. “You just ruined the surprise!”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah ‘fuck’ is right,” he pouts, though he can never stay upset with you for too long. 

“What the fuck are you guys even talking about?” Richie asks, squinting as he looks between the two of you. 

You and Carmy share a knowing look, deciding that now is a better time as ever. 

“We want you to be our witness, Cousin. At the courthouse,” Carmy says, a soft intensity in his eyes as he answers Richie’s question.

“Jesus Christ,” Sugar snarks, with an eye roll as she realizes she’ll be stuck with him at the damn courthouse as well.

“Wh-?” Richie begins to ask, looking from Carmy to you, then back to Carmy again, tears welling up in his eyes as he realizes what Carmy’s just said. “You-? Really?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, in a well-duh kind of tone. “Plus you know I can’t get married without my Ava there.”

“And sign the marriage license and everything?” Richie balks, because he really can’t believe it. 

“Yeah,” you reassure him. 

“Yeah. I mean, fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” Richie declares, even more sentimental than Marcus this time. “Shit, Cuz… Hell yeah, I’ll sign the fuck out of that marriage license as your witness.”

Tina snickers, exchanging a look with Sugar, and earning a glare from Richie. He lowers his voice, directing the question towards you this time: 

“Oh and uh… cool if Ava still sings “Love Story?” I kinda promised her she could sing a Taylor Swift song as part of my best man speech and she insists that one is about you and Carmy,” Richie asks, looking around suspiciously, afraid of someone else hearing. 

“Awwww, Richie. Of course,” you coo, only melting inside a little at the thought.

“What?” Richie snaps, realizing that he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he was. 

Sugar snorts in response, earning a laugh from both Tina and Marcus. 

It’s Marcus’ turn to roll his eyes at Richie this time. 

“What?” Richie repeats, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice. 

Sugar smirks, firing back with a:

“Who’s the big softie now, Rick?”

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone

[squishycheekanon]

Limerence | Four

C H A P T E R F O U R

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter Warnings: banter between Satoru and Sukuna, Satoru being a jealous, greedy man, twins, Yuji being a total sweetheart, talk about heats, jade is introduced.

Masterlist | Chapter three | Chapter five

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06 @itsberrydreemurstuff @queen-luna-007 @thepeachesclub @xxemmarldxx

Taglist is open.

————————————————————————

Previously on Limerence:

“I know.” His words had your head shooting up, tear filled eyes meeting his, “but I’m going help you. If this is too much, then we will only do what you’re comfortable with. We just want to make you happy pup.” His body made him say the words, and he was glad it did. You were nodding as you listened, eyes focusing on every detail on his face while he spoke, his brown almond shaped eyes, sloped nose, the light freckles under his eyes, his plump lips.

“I don’t know how.” There was a hidden meaning behind it and all six alphas desperately wanted to know but they knew now was not the time. They could wait. Right now they had to focus on calming you down, getting you to relax.

Kenjaku felt his heart ache at the sight of your wobbly bottom lip all jutted out, you tear filled eyes and red face. You were so precious. Then and there he swore to protect you at all costs, even if he had to sell his soul, as long as you were safe. That’s all that mattered to him. “It’s okay pup, I’ll show you how.”

You nodded thoughtlessly agreeing with him, your body and mind both so desperate to listen to the Alpha. “We all will.” Suguru smiled softly trying to steel his nerves. You blinked up at the man who looked exactly like the one in front of you, linking his fingers with yours to help you up.

His black hair tied up in a bun on top of his head, a few chunky strands of hair pulled out to frame his sharply featured face. The same sharp features you were staring at as Kenjaku helped you off the floor, half of his hair tied up in a bun too, the rest of it down. Long, healthy flowing black locks.

“You’re…twins.” Both of them chuckled, low and deep in their chests, it vibrated through you. How can a laugh be sexy?

“And we’re not?” Yuji joked his smile so bright it lit up his whole face, it had you smiling too, you imagine his laugh would be just as infectious as his smile.

“So you are.” You giggled a complete contrast to the anxiety that had boiled in your body moments ago, now fizzled out simply being in their presence. “This is so weird.” You commented under your breath not looking for a reply, your feelings were weird, your thoughts were weird. It’s was all so….weird.

“It is a little strange.” Satoru agreed, “I never imagined sharing a mate with my brothers.” He said not exactly sounding best pleased, his white brows furrowed and face pinched with distaste.

"You're not happy?" You asked feeling your heart ache at the very thought that the white haired man with dazzling blue eyes in front of you wasn’t happy.

"It's not exactly how I pictured a life with my mate, but the strong bond with my brothers eases my worries." Satoru smiled tightly, rather unconvincingly too.

"Your personality traits don't help how you're feeling either brother." Sukuna laughed bitchily. Satoru glared at his brother standing from his seat at the table ready to fight, Sukuna taking a step forward with a taunting smile.

"Enough." Kenjaku scoffed adjusting his hold on you to make sure you were safe, not only reassuring you but himself too.

"Later." Satoru grunted at Sukuna who grinned like a maniac with a nod, agreeing to the fight. The white haired Alpha was on edge, to put it plainly he was jealous. Jealous of Sukuna for finding you first and jealous of Kenjaku for the way you cling to him.

Satoru was a very jealous man, a very greedy man too. He always worried that he would be too much for his future girlfriend {and after werewolves} future mate to handle. He wanted all your attention, wanted to be the only one to sate your wants and needs, he wanted to be all you ever needed in life. So he can’t say he was the happiest when he found out he would have to share you with his brothers.

Even as a kid, when his brothers would touch his things he would get easily and overly annoyed. He remembers during his teen years when he had a girlfriend, he would get almost too jealous if guys checked her out, a possessive fire burning within him. To be truthful he never cared that much for her but she was his in his eyes and no one touched what was his.

As he grew up he thought he had mellowed and finally relaxed, then he turned, bones breaking, muscles rubbing together like sandpaper, twisting in unnatural ways, fur growing all over until he became a beast. Then came the stupid things, being envious of his brother’s jobs at the company, trying to sabotage some of them to make him look better.

He quite literally doesn’t know why he got picked for publicity because honestly he’s not that fucking nice. He was sick of it all, the travelling, the fake people, the omegas who weren’t his mate trying to flirt with him. All of it. But after a long and very eye opening pack meeting, Satoru realised they were all in this together. What affects one of them, affects all of them. So for now he simply had to make boring conversations with boring people.

Time, that’s eventually what it took for all the jealously to drain from the white haired werewolf and he was doing so well. Then you showed up and watching you with covetous blue eyes as you clung to Kenjaku the way you did, sparked a bitter feeling in him he’d never felt before, something more than jealousy. In fact he was desirous of you, infatuated with you, mesmerised by you.

It was like you were consuming him whole.

Yuji on the other hand was simply happy to be in your presence's that he didn’t mind whatsoever that you had the hands of his brother on you. Yuji doesn’t even remember when the last time he felt jealously was, possibly when he was a nerdy teen competing with Sukuna for popularity. But that was many, many, many years ago.

He was ecstatic Sukuna had found you. Their lives could properly begin now, he would be able to bond with his mate and the possibility of pups had him bouncing up and down with excitement. Kento shared this sentiment, had thought about it since he became a werewolf, at this very moment his wolf was calling to him to claim his omega right there on the office table, instead he opted to introduce himself. “Hello sweetheart, my name is Kento.” You breathed in deep holding the oxygen in your lungs longer than you needed to to calm yourself as you looked upon the carelessly attractive blonde man. His brown eyes half-mast and staring straight into your soul. Swallowing the lump of nerves that had built up, you told him your name, the resounding pleased hum that sounded throughout the room had your thighs pressing together. A warmth burning in between them.

You said a little prayer in your head that they wouldn’t smell your arousal. They did. Any thought of that was kicked out of your head and replaced with Yuji stepping towards you taking your hand in his larger one, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand. The plumpness pressing against your skin was exquisite, sending pleasant tingles up your arm. You caught Suguru’s gaze just before yuji moved and came back into view letting go of your hand.

“My name is Yuji, it is such a pleasure to meet you angel.” You blush furiously at his words and it has Yuji grinning, lopsided and wide with pride at having such an affect on you. Everything he’s been wanting for his entire life was right in front of him, until Suguru pushes him out the way and smiles charmingly at you making you giggle. Yuji huffs watching as his brother calls you gorgeous as he introduces himself, a little annoyed when he doesn’t make you blush as much as Yuji’s term of endearment had.

A moment passes before Kento is speaking again, “I hope you’re feeling better now, I know that coming to meet all of us at once was a big step to take, thank you for agreeing.” He speaks so soft and so sure, he’s definitely got a take charge attitude, it has you wondering if he’s the pack alpha though that’s something you could ask later.

“I’m still a little anxious, this is all so new to me. I’ve never even had a pack before and now I’m not only going to be in a pack but I’m mated to six alphas. It’s uh, it definitely something that doesn’t happen everyday.” You breathe out with a tight smile.

“Never been part of a pack? What about your family?” Yuji questions receiving a tut from Kento.

It felt like a punch to the gut, what about your family indeed. The despair must have been painted clear as day on your face if Yuji’s remorseful expression was anything to go by. “I don’t have a family.” You responded sounding colder and harsher than you intended.

“Well you do now bunny.” Sukuna tries to lighten the quickly plummeting mood, curving his hand around your waist and bringing you close to plant a big smooch against your cheek, “So soft i just wanna squish them.” He comments with a smirk on his face knowing it would get you flustered, good, if it got that sad look off your beautiful face he’d do anything. Adoration forms on his own face as he watches the blush creep up your neck yet a smile pulling at your lips nonetheless.

“So does this mean you’ll give us a chance then?” The question comes from the white haired man who hadn’t introduced himself yet, his voice is dark and a little sad it makes your heart ache and your smile disappears.

“Fuck sake Satoru, I just got her to smile.” Sukuna scoffs, doing his best to ignore the aggression poking at him.

“It’s okay.” You blink up at Sukuna fluttering your pretty lashes at him before looking back at the brother you now knew as Satoru, “I think I’m okay with giving you a chance but this needs to be slow, or as slow as my dormant omega will allow me to go.”

Now that, that had all six men going ridged. Even if you didn’t see it on the other five, you felt it with the way Sukuna goes stiff. His hand on your waist squeezing a bit harder than you’d like, his deep inhale as his pupils go wide until there is no colour left. They easily realise that you don’t know what means. What that could mean for your health, for your future pup’s health. It’s unsurprising however due to the lack of knowledgeable some people do have about werewolves.

The Ôgami brothers had done the most research and testing and had more knowledge of werewolves than anyone in the world. They told governments and countries about what they had discovered and what they continue to discover now. It seems you are not well informed.

Kento cricks his neck to ease the stressful tension building there before coming over to take you out of Sukuna’s tight hold, his big hand encasing yours as he leads you over to one of the skinny black office chairs before kneeling down in front of you. “Sweetheart are you able to tell me the last time you had your heat.” He could see the internal struggle you were facing, you suddenly didn’t want to say, felt like whatever you did say would be the wrong answer. But his sweet, it’s okay, and encouraging nod had you conceding.

“I haven’t, I’ve never had one.” He unintentionally makes a pained noise in his throat at your confession. It makes you let out a whine that’s just as unintentional. His mind is racing at the possibilities this could have on you and your children, he needs to get you to the hospital asap. No the lab, the lab at the compound is better, more private-

Kento’s increasingly frantic thoughts are interrupted by your phone bleeping loudly, you pull it out of your trouser pocket and curse at whatever is on the screen. Kento can’t see.

“I’m so sorry I have to go, I have a therapy session and I can’t be late.” You are quick to get up at start walking towards the door when Kento growls loudly, it has you freezing just as your hand is on the doorknob. You turn and look at the blonde who has guilt written across his face.

“Sweetheart, I…” He doesn’t know what to say. That he's freaking out that your health could be at risk, that he’s worried about how your first heat will go down, that he physically can’t be away from you after hearing that your in possible danger. “I’m sorry my wolf doesn’t want to be away from you right now. Will you let me drive you?” He settles with that.

You give a little nod but it’s enough to have Kento shooting after you when you open the door saying a little goodbye to the other five men, Kento presses the elevator button for you and stands so his arm is touching yours while you wait for it to come.

“I really am sorry for growling at you like that, I usually have better control.” You hear the strong guilt in his voice and you nod showing him that you acknowledge his apology. You wont say it’s okay because part of you knows he’ll just argue that it’s not.

The elevator doors open with a ding, inside is a red haired woman who takes a good look at the two of you, especially how close you are both standing and you can tell by her face that she instantly doesn’t like it.

“Mr. Ôgami.” She greets Kento who simply nods at her as she passes by him giving you a small glare though the alpha didn’t notice. Your omega growls inside you and you find yourself wondering who she is.

“Cancel my afternoon Stevenson.” He grunts slipping an arm around your waist and guiding you into the elevator, a yes sir falls from her glossy lips and you don’t like it one bit. It’s far too sultry for a simple work relationship, and yet Kento doesn’t bat an eyelid just pressing the ground floor and waiting for the doors to shut.

The ride down is quiet your mind reeling and as if he knows he coaxes you to tell him what’s on your mind, “Who was that woman?” You ask, it comes out sounding impatient and certainly more jealous than you wanted.

“Oh that’s just Jade my secretary, she’s been here quite a while but I don’t really know that much about her other than her name and that she has a brother. That’s about it.” You nod slowly taking in everything he just said, you still don’t like it. You don’t like just Jade.

“It’s okay sweetheart you don’t need to be jealous with me, everything that I am is yours.” He smirks playfully at you, watching you closely with careful eyes.

“I’m not jealous.” You huff, arms folding under your chest with a pout gracing your lips, Kento chuckles at the sight thinking if he died right now and your cute little pout was the last thing he’d see, he’d be one hundred percent okay with that. “I’m not jealous.” You repeat frowning at his unconvinced face.

“Whatever you say sweetheart.”

#limerence #squishycheekanon #jjk x y/n #jjk series #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk geto #jjk nanami #jjk kenjaku #jjk kento #jjk satoru #jjk sukuna #jjk suguru #jjk itadori #jjk yuji #jujutsu kaisen kenjaku #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu geto #jujutsu satoru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[vettelsdarling]

Okay so if it's okay I have a seb (rbr seb to be precise) request. We all know rbr seb was a menace, chaos lover and flirty (we all love him for that) so enemies to lovers (at least one sided because I have no doubt this man while loving by all grid also hated by some) with seb would be amazing... Imagine all the tension 🫣🫣 but happy ending of course because nowadays I need my healthy dosage of fluff with a bit of angst sprinkle 💗🙏🏻

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Lissie note… I am SO happy someone finally requested Seb<3 An enemies to lovers too!!! This prompt is pure gold! Really love the one-sided touch too. Thank you!!!

Things to note

This is set to start in late 2010 and progress from there on (only until Seb’s last year at rbr)

Accuracy to real driver standings will be off due to the reader insert

Michael did not get in any accident here<3

Reader is 22 and Sebastian is 23

Reader is with Mercedes, driving alongside Michael (put him instead of Rosberg because Michael knows Seb better. You’ll get it when you read)

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Mercedes!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, a little bit of cursing

Word Count: 6.4k+

Playlist Recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐒𝐕𝟓

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat , @darleneslane

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

A master of your art. That’s what you liked to think of yourself as. You weren’t driven by fame or money. Rather the excitement of the rush. The feeling of hitting each apex just right— you relished in it. If there was one thing you really were driven by, however; it was winning a championship. You’d won a few races in your career and had your national anthem played for everyone to hear, but no more of that. Your sole goal was to receive the title above all other titles.

Your dreams of such were cut short by one Red Bull driver. Sebastian Vettel. You sat there at the prize-giving ceremony, waiting for Formula One racers to be called up. Michael sat next to you with Corinna. She gave you a sympathetic smile, knowing you missed out on the championship and landed 2nd overall.

Michael claimed Sebastian meant no ill will. He was just young and spirited. You begged to differ. The smirk he’d give you after winning a race begged to differ. His whole… shtick… begged to differ.

Alonso was called on stage to receive his award for landing 3rd, which meant that you had to be ready to receive yours too. You brushed down the sides of your dress, asking Corrina if you looked okay. She seemed surprised you’d even ask such a question but reassured you with a smile and a nod.

When your name was called, a thump in your heart reached the base of your throat. Podium celebrations were one thing, but the prize-giving was an entirely different thing altogether.

Although it was supposed to be a celebration, all you saw was a sea of pitiful glances. Most people knew of your unfortunate position, though many were too afraid to comment on it.

“Sebastian Vettel” Oh the great Sebastian Vettel! World’s youngest champion yet! That could’ve been you. Easily. You hated the thought of not being there on the highest step. The young German gave you a wink before he received his massive trophy. You were in front of hundreds of people and the ceremony was being taped, so you did nothing but smile and seem grateful.

Sure, you were actually grateful for receiving anything at all, but it all seemed like pity. All that was left was to throw your own pity party with a pint of Pinot and a sad romance movie.

The interviews were a nightmare. Every single one of them kept trying to sell you their act. All the while the questions surrounded your relationship with Sebastian. One of undoubted hate for one another. At least on your side.

You didn’t even bother going back to the hotel. The after-party was the one thing you actually looked forward to. The booze, mainly. Anything to drown out your sorrows, really. Oh, how you despised all the small gestures people did for you as an act of congratulating you. Your mixed feelings nearly slapped the vodka shot out of a waitress’ hand. You were a menace in this state.

“Easy on those shots, you came here alone. Wouldn’t want to go home too wasted.” A voice came up behind you.

“Well, that’s a little too late, Hamilton.” His look was that of genuine concern. He knew what you were doing. He knew exactly what that vodka was for.

“You’ll get him next time. At least you’re on the podium, right?” Great. Even one of your closest friends started to pity you.

“Fuck off, would you?” Luckily, he was very understanding and didn’t take any of your words to heart. He got out of your way and went to socialize. That’s when the coin fell. You were alone. He was right. You had no means of getting home. Taxis were rare in that part of town, and your hotel was far away. You were really in a pile of shit.

“Whatever,” you mumbled to yourself and one-shotted a sipping whiskey. It burned your throat with vigour and surged through your body like a pest.

Completely wasted, you felt extremely hot. It didn’t cross your mind to take a breather outside. No, instead, you slowly pulled the sleeve of your dress down. With your shoulder exposed, you could only chase that relief of cool air.

That attempt? Cut short. By none other than Sebastian Vettel. Perhaps a championship in interference would serve him well. He stopped you and pulled your sleeve back up. It felt like an insult. Another jab that he wanted to throw your way.

“Fuck off and let me do my thing,” you kept aimlessly pulling at your sleeve. The feat was just as great as your races against him.

“Stop it. You’re drunk.”

“Wow, I hadn’t noticed. You want another trophy for that discovery?” The friction against the soft satin of your dress eventually made it tear. Both of you froze before you got up and b-lined towards the exit. Anything to get away from him. You pushed through the masses of people in the club and eventually got outside.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rip your dress.” Much to your misfortune, the constant bother had followed you outside.

“You’ve already ruined more than just my dress. Must you ruin the rest of my night too?” You looked him deep in the eyes. You didn’t even have to act like you’d given up— because you most definitely had. No question.

“I’m about to make your night bearable if you’ll let me.” He took off his blazer and wrapped it around you, so you wouldn’t catch a cold in your skimpy dress. You hated the sentiment. You hated his whole “holier than thou” personality. Why? Because it was for show. He was nothing but a monster. He was behind many of your crashes and never gave you any space. You resented him for his quirky little stunts.

“Whatever, youngest world champion.” You couldn’t help but scoff at the title. He had played foul to win it. That title should’ve been yours, but no. Sebastian Vettel stole your glory.

“Come on, don’t be like that. At least value your own well-being. Let’s just get you a coffee to sober up with. You can curse me out as much as you want in the morning.” He tried to guide you forward, but you hunched over and up came all of your vodka shots. He held your hair back as you emptied out the contents of your stomach. It was revolting. You felt disgusting.

“I sure hope I won’t see you in the morning— let alone tomorrow.” Not exactly the toughest thing to say when you’re coughing for your life.

“You won’t even remember this, you know?”

“Makes it better. Then I don’t have to remember how I actually spent more than 10 minutes alone with you.” You were still hunched over, but the snarkiness in your voice triumphed that.

“You really dislike me, don’t you?” He chuckled.

“Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.”

The Red Bull champion ended up being right. You had completely forgotten about the exchange. Someone had hailed you a taxi and you’d drunkenly gotten yourself to your hotel room. That’s how you remembered it. You were still bitter about the ceremony and Sebastian’s selfish attitude. Sure, you’d expect nothing less from a racer, especially in Formula One, but he was a different kind of heartless. He mocked you. He didn’t care if he hurt you on track. That was your own fault.

Sebastian Vettel was your sworn enemy.

The media had become desensitized to your drama with him, as something always happened at every race. It was impossible to not argue with the guy. All he cared about was winning and he wasn’t in the sport to make friends. It was almost as if he wanted to be hated. You simply couldn’t understand how he and Lewis managed to get along. They somehow managed to separate their work from their friendship. You had that relationship with most of the grid, but Sebastian was too unsportsmanlike for your taste. Michael always tried to reason with you, often softening the blow of some of Vettel’s words, saying he “didn’t mean it” or was “just worked up”. You looked up to Michael, but you could never back that. It was bull. Sebastian had no redeeming qualities. He was overly flirtatious and aggressive. You hated that.

Every interview he had with a woman was met with his flirty remarks and his devious smile. You always had to sit there and soak in his gloating. He was insufferable.

“I really don’t see what the problem is. He’s just really obsessed with his career, no?” You had invited your friend out for brunch before your plane. The first race of the season was in Australia. Mark Webber’s home race. A challenge for Sebastian. Mark was tired of his teammate. Much like yourself. You could smell a possible truce. Although that’d be foul play. Unsportsmanlike of you. Were you going to be the bigger person? Of course. You were mature.

“He makes me want to crash my car into his. I should definitely do that in Australia.” You were not mature.

“You don’t mean that. Besides, it’s not even that deep. You don’t have to make something big out of the rush he gets from being in the moment. Don’t you also cuss at your engineer from time to time?” She had a valid point, but it went into one ear and straight out the other. You loved her to death, but she was spewing nonsense.

“Sebastian is an asshole. That’s the bottom line. Whose side are you on anyway?!” You scolded. She twirled her fork in the pasta and let out a faint chuckle.

“Of course, I’m on your side… but you can’t lie. Sebastian is cute.” It was official. Your friend was possessed.

“In what world? I told you about his dirty tricks. How is he still cute?” He was the devil in disguise. Some drivers were able to see it, but most were gullible enough to even befriend him. Your hatred didn’t come from a place of jealousy. It came from a place of being cast aside because of him. Time and time again. It was tiring, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The Mercedes car wasn’t nearly as fast as Red Bull. You desperately wanted it to be.

“Whatever. What I’m saying is, maybe he’s not all that bad off-track.” Oh, but he was. His flirtatious behaviour off-track was nearly as bad as his insufferable one on track. You couldn’t stand it.

“He is. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your friend drove you to the jet and the two of you exchanged a few hugs and whatnot. She wished you good luck before you got on.

Inside, you saw many familiar faces. Michael being one of them. He pointed to the seat across from his own and signalled for you to sit. When you did, he leaned forward and you could already tell he was going to talk about your least favourite driver again. For whatever reason, he was set on trying to change your mind. “Seb is not a bad person”, “He’s just young and hot-headed”, and “He doesn’t know any better”… all of those excuses meant nothing to you. Sebastian was just that; a dirty driver.

“So, let’s find a way to beat him this year, yes?” You were taken aback. He never said something like that. Sure, he’d console you and help you through your sorrows of finishing behind Vettel, but he was always neutral. Never on either “side”. Though he did tend to seem like he was on Sebastian’s.

“We’re in a Mercedes. I don’t see any way for us. It’s just straight down on the charts. I mean, will I even be able to land a podium this year? I heard McLaren have been pulling their weight for this year. Like… a lot.” Michael contemplated what to say for a moment, but tried to console you nonetheless. He was a father, so he’d gotten quite good at that.

“We can still put up a good fight, right?”

“I suppose.” You could only hope for a miracle. Christian Horner was unrelenting with his new golden boy, Sebastian. The Red Bulls were unstoppable. You had no other choice but to follow Michael’s spirit. Just put up a good fight.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

It was practice day. You were getting ready, suiting up, and seating yourself in the car. Your heart was beating fast. It had been a while since you last sat in a real car. You’d done your fair share of sim racing whilst on break, but it was nothing compared to the real deal.

“Good luck,” your engineer clapped your helmet before you were released. The car felt surprisingly great. It was smooth and you felt like it synced well with your driving style.

Then came Sebastian. Again. He sped past you. Although you couldn’t see him, you just knew he was smirking behind that helmet of his. He relished in your mental torment. It was his source of amusement.

You finished P3. Lewis finished P2 and Sebastian, yet again, finished P1. It was only the first round of practice though. You promised yourself that you’d do everything in your power to finish P1 in the qualifying session.

You didn’t keep your promise. You fell short and landed a finishing spot at P2. Devastating, but your team was happy you got a front-row start anyway. Whenever the interviews finished, you tried to find Michael. Only to see him chatting with him. They were having a laugh— joking around. The sight made you furious. Again, not in jealousy, but the sheer thought that Michael fell for Sebastian’s shtick.

“Hey, Michael. Could we talk? There’s something about the car.” The interjection was abrupt and one might even call it rude, but did you care? Absolutely not. You had no reason to whatsoever. It was Vettel after all.

“Actually, I was just saying goodbye to Sebastian. Corinna is waiting for me outside. How about you tell me tomorrow? Maybe talk to the engineers too. Anyways, see you guys!” Just great. You sighed as you watched your teammate leave.

“That’s some rejection,” said the German standing next to you. Ugh. Wrong German.

“What do you want?”

“Let’s grab coffee sometime soon.” What? You were used to his flirty remarks being directed at the interviewers and whatnot… but this?

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Unbelievable. He was unbelievable. You scoffed and put your hand in front of his face before walking off. Giving him the satisfaction of an answer wasn’t exactly your style, and it wouldn’t ever be.

“You didn’t say no!” He yelled from behind you. Ignoring him, you made a turn so that you’d disappear from his sight. His presence was exhausting and downright draining.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

“Box box,” said your engineer. You were on hards and chasing Sebastian who was on hards as well. It made no sense to pit after a mere 23 laps.

“Are you sure? I’ve got a good chance here. I don’t think it’s time. We didn’t discuss this.” The original plan was to pit when Sebastian would, and it seemed like he was going to do a one-stop.

“We’re sure. You need to get on mediums. We just switched Michael too. Get in.” You sighed and got ready to slow down in the pit lane. It was painful to see Sebastian take the win like that. P1 felt like a distant dream for you at that point.

“This better work. I swear, this better fucking work.” You were beyond frustrated about your current position in P8. The pit stop had taken longer than expected, making you lag a few places behind. Oh, how you couldn’t stand the idea of Sebastian rubbing his victory in your face. His first victory of the season.

You upped your game, completing smooth overtake after smooth overtake. All the way up until you regained your position right behind the Red Bull. There was a slight problem though. The car was starting to feel unusually hot. Sweat trickled down your face and the visor looked as if it was raining. You weren’t going to report rain though, as you knew your team would if there was any.

“Fuck, guys, it’s too hot!” You yelled over the radio. As expected, all your engineer replied with was a simple “copy”. It was swift communication, you knew that, but it sure as hell was frustrating. It felt like you weren’t getting any attention at all.

Your team performed pit stops rather quickly, which was a plus whereas everything else was a minus. It didn’t cancel out, but at least it helped combat some of the other problems your car had.

As most had predicted though, you were unable to overtake Sebastian or his new nickname “the finger”, and were stuck in P2. You couldn’t even enjoy the podium celebration. Sure, you sprayed some champagne and chugged a bit, but did you enjoy it? Not particularly. Michael had told you to not worry and just give it your all, but it was hard to forget when Vettel was in the way. His smug grin as he held his trophy and stuck his pointer in the air… you wanted to crush his ego. So bad. You were going to relish in the moment when Sebastian would lose out on a championship. It was going to be an unforgettable moment to be sure.

“You can’t be satisfied, can you?” Sebastian came up to you after the celebration. He was the last person you wanted to see at that moment, but his gloating was inevitable. Might as well get it over with.

“Not by you, I can’t.”

“You must know how that sounds.” Yeah, you were going to lose your mind. He successfully pulled off a tasteless and baseless trap. You walked straight into it like an insect stuck in a spiderweb.

“Whatever.” You took off your race suit, leaving on the fireproof suit to cover your body for the time being. It was already hot enough as is.

“Cute.” You’d gotten used to his little flirty remarks and comments. It was basically white noise.

“You’re not.”

“I was referring to you, you know.” He was quite literally impossible.

“Must you really make me suffer with your presence any longer? Isn’t winning and doing your little finger thing enough?!” When you started raising your voice, it grabbed people’s attention, so the young Red Bull driver pulled you with him to his motorhome.

“Did I not just enlighten you about my discomfort in your presence or did I daydream that?” You scoffed at him and pulled your arm from his grip.

“Look, I’m done trying to ignore your contempt for me. Do you seriously think that I will apologize for winning? This isn’t grade school. I was driving, I was faster, I won. Simple as that. If you can’t accept it and take the loss, then you really shouldn’t be racing.” Your heart sank to the bottom of your chest. Each sentence was like a dagger to the chest. You felt every little soul-crushing word in your gut.

“Wow… you really are more of an asshole than I thought. I don’t care that you won. I care that you gloat. I care that you don’t care about me. You don’t care about any of the others. We could die for all you care. Do you want me to die? Is that it?” All rationality had left your mind the moment he insulted you. Red was all you could see.

“You’re twisting my words. I merely said that I won’t apologize for winning. I never said I wanted anyone injured.” He was right, and you knew that. Deep down, you knew that he was just like you. Passionate about the sport. The only difference was that he was in a winning car… and you unfortunately weren’t. Was it his fault? You were too blindsided by rage to even consider any other possibilities.

“By the way you drive, I beg to differ.”

“You’d be lying to me and yourself if you were to tell me you’ve never gotten caught up in the moment. You know exactly how that feels.” He somehow had a counter for everything you threw at him.

“What about your constant flirting? Why do you keep rubbing your victory in my face like that?” The look on his face contorted into that of a confused one.

“What do you mean?” He asked, obviously at a complete loss.

“You asked me out for coffee.” You said whilst confidently crossing your arms over your chest.

“You seriously think that’s a front for something?” He almost found it amusing. The way you overanalyzed his motives.

“You don’t think a guy can be the least bit interested in you?” Before you had the chance to respond, Mark walked in with Christian behind him. That was your cue to leave, so you did without hesitation.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

It had been a good while since you last had a real talk with Sebastian. A few years to be exact. The jabs and games were still happening. Neither of you had dared address any of it, but one thing remained stuck in your head like a broken record; “You don’t think a guy can be the least bit interested in you?” Every day and night, that thought passed through the thousands of others. It stood out. It was like the moon in a starry sky.

During those years, Michael had retired. It broke your heart, but seeing as Lewis replaced him; it wasn’t all that bad. Mercedes had gotten increasingly better as well— which meant that you had a better chance at beating Sebastian for every year that passed.

Lewis, being one of your closest friends on the grid, agreed to help you win your first championship. The Red Bulls had their run. It was time for Mercedes to shine. You needed to win.

“Lewis, I don’t think I can do it this race. There are too many low-speed corners. Red Bull will take this one home… Sebastian will take this one home.” You sat in your garage and moped as Lewis leaned against a pillar opposite you.

“It’s fine. They’re basically useless in high-speed corners this year. Besides, you already have 3 wins over him. Just one race won’t hurt. Well… it’ll sting, but see if you can land a podium, yeah?” Did you even want to try? You knew that Sebastian would mock you either way. It was almost as if your world didn’t revolve around the championship anymore. It was all about him. All about Sebastian.

“Yeah nah. I don’t think I can.” You stared at your feet. The race shoes were starting to feel clammy around them.

“Do you really believe that’s the mindset of a winner? No. Just think about doing whatever you can do. You don’t have to care about anyone else when you’re out there. Let yourself loose.” Lewis was right. You did care too much. You seldom crashed into anyone, all because you cared for their safety.

You ended up winning. You didn’t know how it happened or what you did to make it happen. Lewis’ words just kept swirling inside your brain; “Let yourself loose.”

You stood patiently and waited for the interviewer to finish up with P3 and P2, watching as Sebastian looked ever so disappointed. It was humorous. You felt amazing. The other wins you lorded over him didn’t feel that liberating. They felt good, but not great.

“—And here’s the deadly Mercedes! You were on fire today! We did not expect this aggressive approach from you. It was breathtaking. What did you do differently?” That was the question. What did you do differently? You stopped caring. You remembered you weren’t in the sport to make friends. You were there to win.

“I mean, I did what I had to do, really. I focused on winning and I listened to great advice. I simply just won.” The interviewer looked at you with a question mark etched onto her forehead but didn’t press further on that question.

“I know your first loss to Sebastian proved quite upsetting, would you say the tables have turned?” She smiled at you. It was clear from the beginning that she was on your side. After all, being the only female racer on the grid— you had a magnetic effect on fans of the sport.

“I can’t say for sure yet, but I can definitely hope!” Your voice was cheery and sweet, but that was just a front. You couldn’t wait for his downfall. Standing on that stage at the ceremony, watching all life drain from Sebastian’s eyes. That was your goal.

People had every right to tell you off, but at what cost if you didn’t care? Lewis had just helped you unlock the very thing that could potentially destroy the smug Red Bull driver.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

The season was going smoothly. Fans roared in your favour and even threw gifts at you whenever you went on the scene. Yours and Sebastian’s roles had switched. You were the new fan favourite. Everyone could attest to that fact.

There was a slight thing bugging you, however. The many Instagram and Facebook fan pages that were dedicated to shipping you with Sebastian. They made edits, they came up with extreme theories… It was mortifying.

People in the Mercedes garage weren’t quiet either. If anything, they were even worse. Constantly bugging you about your “obvious” chemistry with Sebastian and whatnot. Which, in your opinion, didn’t exist.

You only harboured hate for the man. He was foul. Through and through… right?

Lies. Although you didn’t dare tell anyone, you didn’t quite hate him anymore. After letting go and caring less, you felt like you could finally see things from his perspective. It made you realize that he just wanted to win. Well, on top of mocking you. That was what had your mind in knots. He claimed he only teased you because of your reactions, but he refused to acknowledge your obvious distaste for it.

He had, however, begun to limit his snarky comments and cruel smirks. He actually started distancing himself. He rarely spoke to you and only ever interacted with you when the two of you landed a podium together.

You felt like something was missing.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Lewis asked. The two of you were sitting in your respective chairs in the cooldown room. He had somehow scored a P2 finish, with you upfront and Vettel in P3.

“Oh, nothing. Sorry. Zoned out, I guess?” You stretched your arms and wiped a bead of sweat off your forehead. Sebastian watched you throw the towel onto Lewis’ lap. Your teammate threw it back and the two of you shared a silly moment.

Something brewed inside the young Red Bull racer. He had been slacking off. He knew that all too well. His teammate, Daniel Ricciardo, was going to outscore him. There was nothing he could do about it. Not when Mercedes had gotten the upper hand. Not when you were in the way. The only pain he felt was from watching you with Lewis. He despised seeing you all happy-go-lucky. That was it. No, it wasn’t. He hated seeing you joke around with the other drivers. The sight of you laughing at a mechanic’s joke? His blood boiled.

The courage he once had was slipping. Much like his performance. He couldn’t focus on winning when losing was his only way to reach his ultimate goal.

“We should probably get going. Time to listen to your national anthem… yet again,” Lewis jokingly sighed and ruffled your hair, whilst you rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

You saw a cheerful sea of Mercedes employees. A 1-2 finish. Any team would be ecstatic if their drivers pulled that off.

Sebastian stood next to you. He couldn’t bring himself to muster even the smallest smile. Putting it mildly, his plan was starting to look like it had gone to shit. Not only was he losing the races, he was losing…

“Lew, look at this,” you grinned. Lewis obliged and was met with a burst of champagne. He let out a small yelp before picking up his bottle and spraying you.

Although he probably had a reason, you were beginning to hate how Sebastian never even spoke to you. The only solution; spray him. You poured a cold shot down his neck, to which he jerked his shoulders forward in an uncomfortable motion. It made him smile. Your heart swelled with some form of comfort in knowing you could make him feel some sort of joy.

Was that Lewis’ design all along? Making you see things from Vettel’s perspective? Perhaps. Whatever it was, you knew that your hatred for him had faded. This was replaced with stealing small glances and a spike in your heart rate when he was near.

You often felt your heart pump thickly in your throat. Your insides were littered with butterflies. You felt all jittery around him. Well, until he stopped with his flirting. He completely stopped interacting with you. It had your stomach in a twist. Were you too late? Did you not do enough?

“You don’t think a guy can be the least bit interested in you?”

You knew exactly who you had to see.

It was perfect, given that the next race wasn’t that coming weekend. You decided to give Michael a call, asking if you could see him at his house in Switzerland. Him being something of a father figure— said yes.

It was time to dig into the past. Not through the eyes of who you once were, but who you became. You were able to see things from every angle. Sebastian had clearly flirted out of sheer fun and mischief, but something underlined that cause. You. It was foolish of you to be so blinded with rage and hatred, that you couldn’t see him for what he was. A man who was struggling to keep your undivided attention. You weren’t yet convinced, but surely Michael would be able to set you straight.

You first greeted Corinna and the kids, who were not so much kids anymore. Michael came down to give you a hug and invite you to his cosy home office. He brewed some tea and placed it on the table.

“It’s so nice to see you again. I haven’t quite gotten used to retirement, but I did it once before, so I can definitely do it again!” He chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re still holding up well. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know that Mercedes is leading at the moment.” You smiled at him and took a sip of the tea he’d made for you.

“I have been following up. I watch almost every race, actually. Whenever my kids have time, we throw on the sports channel and watch you and Sebastian. That’s to say they always have time for that. In fact, my son, Mick— his dream is to race for Mercedes.” Mick was growing steadily and did karting regularly. You didn’t see why he wouldn’t be able to earn a seat at Mercedes eventually.

“About that… I came here for advice… regarding Sebastian.” As embarrassing as it was to beat around the bush, saying things like that outright was not exactly your forté.

“What, did he finally confess?” You were dumbstruck by his sudden question.

“Excuse me? What?”

“Well, you see, he was always coming to me and asking me how to get you to talk to him. I always said that he could figure things out for himself. By your reaction, however, I’m guessing that didn’t exactly work?” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers.

“He was crazy about you, I remember. The more riled up you got, the more he’d come to me for advice. It became routine for us to sit and talk, actually.” You had your suspicions, but never did you know that he was actually into you. Those fan pages and edits could’ve only fueled it. Your heart was beating faster and faster. It felt like it was nearly about to burst. Definitely, because you didn’t like him like that. You were just starting to sympathize. Nothing romantic. At all. No. Nothing.

“You know what I think?” Michael added when he saw your tomato-red face.

“I think he’s losing those races on purpose. Just to satisfy your needs. For a long time, he wanted to earn as many world championships as myself, but recently… something else seems to be stuck in his mind. I think his priorities lie elsewhere now.” You ran your fingers through your hair in frustration. Your heart couldn’t stop going faster than your car on race day.

“I also think you may feel something for him too.”

“Thank you, Michael. Truly… but I have to go.” You booked the earliest flight out. Needing some time alone with your thoughts.

Michael was almost always right. In this situation? There was no way he wasn’t.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

You were back on the top again. The podium was the exact same as the last race. The celebration was grand. It was all pretty much the same. Your focus was more on getting time alone with Sebastian.

After everything had died down, you decided to visit the Red Bull motorhome and knocked on Vettel’s door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a surprised look on his face, upon opening the door.

“We need to talk. Invite me in?” He let you walk past him.

“What is it? Are you here to blackmail me?”

“What? No. Why would I ever do that?” Your face grimaced at his idea.

“I don’t know, I’m just not feeling that great right now.” He was all mopey and looked as if someone had sucked all the life force out of him.

“I actually came to talk to you about… um… well, us.” You were fiddling with your fingers in your lap, too scared to look him in the eyes.

“Us?”

“I spoke to Michael.” You weren’t sure how to lead the conversation from start to finish.

“You did?”

“He told me about everything.” Your eyes met his in a flash of awkwardness.

“Look, that was a long time ago and—”

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you cut off. His eyes lit up at your words.

“What do you mean by that?” Was he really that desperate to hear you say it, or were you too scared to say it?

“I don’t know… I guess it means you can start flirting with me again or whatever…” you mumbled sheepishly. It felt so embarrassing to tell him face to face. Your heart was thumping louder than the pit stops Mercedes did. Your face was redder than the Ferraris.

“Could we see where this takes us? I mean, if you’d like.” He seemed to be just as embarrassed about it as you. It was kind of cute, actually.

“Yes… I’d like that.” Although the conversation was surprisingly short, it left a huge impact on Sebastian. He was more or less depressed on the podium but the interviews that followed? He was a firecracker. He acted as if he’d won the lottery, smiling like an idiot and stealing glances from you here and there. It was an odd but welcome, warm feeling that spread throughout your body.

Who would’ve thought? Both Lewis and Michael were able to set you straight. You used to care too much. You used to think about yourself only, when it came to Sebastian. It was impossible to put yourself in his shoes until Lewis taught you otherwise. Your feelings? You would’ve let yourself crush them over time, had it not been for your talk with your mentor.

Much time passed, and you had won races upon races. You were still getting much-needed advice on everything from races to simple daily routines, by Michael. Sometimes you went to Lewis. He was easier to reach and you were always able to have quick conversations with him before the races. Everything had accumulated to the current momentum. The glory that you were about to relish in. The people you were about to make proud.

You sat in your seat with Sebastian on your side. He had only recently asked you to be his. It took some dates and deep, meaningful talks before you got there, but the wait was worth it. Life had never felt better. You were completely enamoured with Sebastian. The feeling was more than mutual. He was helplessly and irrevocably in love with you.

He was called to the stage as 3rd overall. The crowd cheered, but you cheered the loudest. If you had told your past self that you would be cheering him on at the ceremony, you would’ve never believed yourself.

Lewis was called next and you were called last. Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling at you. People were cheering and you were in a state of euphoria.

Your trophy was the biggest, brightest, and most grand in the room. However, it could never compare to the adoration on your boyfriend’s face, as he saw you hoisting it up into the air.

After all the interviews and the longest ride back to your hotel, you crashed onto your shared bed with your lover. The two of you stared at the blank ceiling, feeling a state of absolute tranquillity. The two of you had come so far.

“I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian turned his head to face you.

“Thank you, Seb.” You followed suit.

“Do you think we wasted too much time?” You asked. In all honesty, a tinge of guilt hit you every now and then. If only you had come to terms with yourself and your feelings earlier…

“All that time was worth hearing you tell me that you love me. I don’t think we wasted even a single moment. Everything that has happened so far… you know, it all built up to this.” You smiled at him and pulled him into a loving kiss.

Sebastian Vettel, I love you.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

#fanfiction #fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #enemies to lovers #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic #seb vettel #sebastian vettel fluff #f1 fic #red bull f1 #red bull seb #red bull racing #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #mercedes #lewis hamilton #michael schumacher #f1 imagine #sebastian vettel imagine

[bxtchycaprisun]

obstinate (2) | a. anderson

summary: you’re a new medic in the WLF base. you’re young, hardworking, and the thing that abby anderson hated the most, stubborn.

notes: fem!reader, medic!reader, protective!abby, soldier!abby, this shit is ANGSTYY (i kinda went overboard but oh well), still no smut yet (when i said slow burn i meant slow burnnn), abby makes some questionable decisions, reader says some questionable things, mentions of insomnia, this relationship is not healthy yall

taglist: @caitlinisfruity @shaemonyou @mattm1964 @vigelvictoria

an: glad you guys enjoyed part 1!! i just grinded out this chapter so fast cause i’m going out of town this weekend so i apologize if it’s messy!

MDNI!! will contain sexual themes in future chapters

part 3 here

several days had passed and abby was still seething. not necessarily because of you, which of course she was also frustrated by. she was mad because she was confused. why did it bother her so much that one new girl wouldn’t follow her orders? wouldn’t listen to her demands?

or, to put it better, why did it excite her so much? abby anderson was a well-liked leader in the base, and with that, people were kind to her. while it may not have always been real, they still showed her respect to her face, they listened.

but you didn’t.

as she picked up her breakfast from the cafeteria in the mornings, she allowed her eyes to wander a bit more, thinking just maybe one morning, they would be met with yours. she even began eating her meals within the cafeteria with manny and his father, rather than taking it back to her room like she’d always done. but before every patrol, as the buzz of conversing soldiers surrounded her, your voice was never one of them. your face, never in the crowd.

after more days had passed, she decided to pop her head into the infirmary as “occasionally” as she could. she would saunter around, stopping by the few patients she knew well, and in every chance she could, she would watch you in your corner, working away with a roll of gauze and a bottle of sanitizer.

and you would pretend that you couldn’t feel her staring.

she never spoke to you though. she knew how the conversation would go, either ending in her apologizing or starting an argument, neither of which she wanted to do.

to be truthful, she wasn’t sorry. she didn’t care that she snapped at you, or that she was overstepping by demanding that you rest. and quite frankly, she didn’t care if her attempts at talking some sense into you resulted in you hating her.

she was your superior is what she’d tell herself. it was her duty to make sure things ran smoothly in the base, and you were no use as a medic if you were dead or injured.

so rather than doing the right thing, and talking through her concerns with you like an adult, she did something dumb.

which is why she found herself with booted feet outside Isaac’s door, knocking her fist against the firm wood. it was late, and she had just returned from patrols.

she wasn’t going to do it, she knew how much of an intrusion this was. but seeing your penciled name scheduled for a particularly dangerous patrol that upcoming Wednesday, she couldn’t help herself.

she hadn’t even showered, hadn’t even changed. she went straight from the trucks to his doorstep, knowing she couldn’t let herself think on it, knowing she’d change her mind. looking back on it, abby should have let it sit.

fuck it.

isaac opened the door with raised brows upon seeing the soldier. “abby” he say with a tight smile as he steps back to let her in.

“isaac i…” she fiddles with her fingers for a moment and clear hers throat, “i’ve got a few concerns about… about who you’ve put on patrols.”

he nods his head sharply, an amused smile creeping onto his lips. “alright” he says as he tilts his head to the couch, gesturing for her to take a seat. “let’s hear it.”

abby was a bit surprised by his demeanor. typically when she’d “expressed concerns” in the past, he’d been incredibly closed off to her ideas. she’d be hit with a quick “how hard is it to follow my orders?” with a slammed door in her face.

he’d never acted like this. she didn’t have a clue as to why this was different.

“okay,” she nods her head quickly and carefully sits on the couch. “well… i’ve noticed that you’ve been adding medics to some of our patrols.”

“mhm.” he responds with a raised brow, waiting for a bit more explanation.

“i just- i guess i don’t understand why. i mean, we need all hands on deck at the infirmary, and sending untrained medics on the field is just… it’s irresponsible isaac.” abby struggled to mask the annoyance in her tone as she blurts out her concerns.

“untrained medics?” isaac asks with a grin. “well, i’ve only tried it out with one medic so far and she seems to be doing well.”

abby furrows her brows. before she can think about what she’s saying, a sharp “well she’s not” escapes her lips. her eyes widen at her own words. your face crosses her mind, and she imagines you frowning, eyes darkened with the pain of betrayal, pupils wide with hurt. she imagined what you’d look like if you heard what she was saying.

but she was already in too deep to go back now. “did you know she was injured? she hid it from the entire patrol, could’ve bled out if she ignored it any longer.” she knew she was exaggerating, but she was too desperate to care.

“really?” isaac asked with suspicion. “i wasnt aware of that.” he pauses for a moment, rubbing his chin with thought. “i understand your concern abby, i do. but… our casualties out in the field have nearly doubled since last fall.”

abby shakes her head, “no… you don’t get it she-”

“no you don’t get it. some injuries can’t wait the journey back to the base, anderson. it is far easier to put a few medics out on patrols than to train all soldiers in first aid.” he leans forward with his hands on his knees as he speaks.

“i understand that.” she puts her hand up, trying to protest further. “but your medics are going to be no help in either the infirmary or on the field if they get killed by some scar. when i came here, soldiers were put through months of training before they were allowed to step foot outside the base.” she shakes her head. “now you’re just going to throw them out there with no experience in combat?”

“look i’m not familiar with the relationship between you two,” isaac laughs a bit as he says this. “but i chose your friend to be the first of this experiment for a reason.”

she scoffs at the word experiment. is that what this was? he was just going to treat you like you were some sort of test subject?

“she may not have gone through combat training through the WLF, but that doesn’t mean she is completely inexperienced. she didn’t grow up like you abby.” she flinched a bit at this statement. it was rare that isaac brought up her past. but despite that, she was intrigued. she hadn’t even thought to ask about your past.

“she grew up in FEDRA school. she was there when the denver QZ was overthrown. she was a solider. and i guarantee that if she wasn’t so talented in medicine, she would be up there with you and all your grunt buddies.”

abby huffs at this. “the way we fight is far different than how FEDRA trained and you know that,” she hisses with an accusatory finger pointer at her leader.

isaac stares at her with narrowed eyes, before sighing deeply and leaning forward even more, gazing at her warningly. “what do you want abby? are you asking me to take her off the schedule completely? put another medic out there who has no idea what they are doing just so you can have some peace of mind?”

she closes her mouth quickly and looks away. that was exactly what she was asking, but she wouldn’t say it. “just… keep her off of the really bad routes will you?” she asks. “i saw she was supposed to go to the serevena this week, and i want you to remove her from the patrol.”

Isaac chuckles and shakes his head. “you know the dangerous patrols are where she is needed most right?”

“at least until she’s been doing this for a bit longer” she asks, less demanding this time. “please Isaac?”

isaac tilts his head up slowly, before bringing it down in a nod. “fine. but just for the next month or two, got it?”

abby let’s out a relieved breath as she stands up. “yes. yes that’s fine. thank you, isaac.”

“just get out” is the last thing she hears as she leaves the room, a triumphant grin plastered on her face.

. . .

the only thing that kept you awake was the memory of your coworkers chuckle ringing in your aching head.

“i think you’re the busiest person on the base” he had laughed. “i don’t know how i’d function with the amount of sleep you’re getting.”

it was ironic, truly, that he could have put your, what you could borderline describe as suffering, into such a joking statement. even you didn’t know how you were functioning, to be quite honest.

over the past three days, you hadn’t gotten more than 3 consecutive hours of sleep at a time. between night shifts at the infirmary, day shifts on patrol, and the completely disorganized meal times you had managed to fit in, you were hardly getting any rest.

the sleep you were getting was on one of the firm cots within the infirmary, the commotion of patients and medics just out the hall constantly waking you up.

you had always been an insomniac, hadn’t gotten a full nights sleep since you were a toddler, maybe not even then. at FEDRA school, you’d stay up half the night reading books on surgeries and weaponry, practically ruining your vision from squinting in only the moonlight.

but despite your familiarity with a lack of slumber, that condition could only take someone so far, and it’s gotten to the point where sleep was the only thing on your mind. other than abby. you were a robot, a machine, a lifeless shell of yourself who just worked and ate, and worked and ate, and eventually slept. you hoped that maybe that soldier would come to you in your dreams, approaching you with an apology and toothy smile. you never fall deep enough into your sleep for that to be possible.

you also drank coffee. a small perk of being a consistent medic in the night shift, you were the first person to get access to the rare bean.

and in this moment, you were only two hours away from the end of your night at the infirmary. you stirred a bit of milk into your mug, and squinted under the fluorescent lights you had turned on in the cafeteria. you had always hated the cafeteria when it was full of people, but in the night, at almost 5 am, there was no one there.

it was a kind of quiet that you didn’t often experience.

that was until you heard a voice call your name from behind, startling you enough you nearly spill your coffee all over yourself.

abby had gotten up extra early for patrol that morning, unable to sleep with thoughts of her and Isaac’s conversation replaying in her mind. she was, of course, pleased with the turn out. but she was mainly guilty, and a bit terrified. terrified of how you’d react to her interjection of your schedule.

but when she saw you in your baggy scrubs, hair pulled out of your face, and a pout on your lips as you sipped at your drink, she didn’t care. she just wanted to talk to you, she hadn’t in so many days.

after your initial jump scare, you turn to meet eyes with your new visitor, and breathe a sigh of relief.

“oh abby” you smile softly as your heart settles, “it’s you.”

she’s a bit surprised at your calm demeanor, granted your last conversation had been an argument, but she took it happily.

and for you, you were too tired to be anything but quiet and friendly. and more importantly, you were too tired to remember anything that happened more than five minutes ago.

“hey you,” she replied as she took a step closer. “how’ve you been? are you just getting off?”

you shake your head as you take another sip of your coffee. abby scrunched her nose at the smell, she’d always hated the drink.

“no…. no i’ve got a couple more hours.” the two of you stand side by side and lean back against the metal countertop, looking out into the empty room. her hip is close to yours, and you can feel the heat cascading off of her body. it takes a lot of will power not to slouch your body against hers, and just pass out on her broad shoulder. you had a feeling she wouldn’t wake you up.

“you heading off for patrol?”

abby nods her head, and turns it to face you. she studies your eyes for a moment, taking in the dark circles laying beneath. “you said you’ve got a couple hours left still?” she asks, concern laced in her tone.

“yeah” you sigh and she straightens her posture a bit more.

“i’m not going to lie,” she says as she takes a better look at you, “you look like a corpse. when’s the last time you slept?”

you shrug your shoulders and your lips curl into a small smile. “before my shift? wasn’t for long but it was something.”

her expression hardens and she prods at you a bit more. “how long are we talking?” she asks you, trying to keep her wording light, but it’s clear she’s worried.

“bout a few hours”

“a few hours?” she repeats with a scoff. you look at her blankly, unable to say anything to defend yourself. “okay whatever.” she shakes her head, “better question; when’s the last time you got like- like a real nights rest?”

at this, you can’t help but let out a dry chuckle. “i don’t really do that” you muster with a playful smile. but it’s clear on abby’s face she doesn’t find that very funny.

“you can’t just live off of coffee and catnaps” she says with a frown, waving her hand dismissively towards your mug, “you know that right?”

“i dunno” you shrug and look back out into the empty cafeteria, “been doing just fine as of now.”

“no. no you haven’t” she pushes herself off of the counter and turns to face you completely. “you know how i know that? because when people are tired they get delirious.” you watch her with raised eyebrows as she continues.

“and when people are delirious, they make dumb decisions. hence why you’ll probably have a gnarly scar on your back for the rest of your life.”

she stops her sentence abruptly and you clench your jaw. you break eye contact, and feel your fingertips grip onto the countertop.

“h-how is it anyways?” she asks, a lot more gingerly now.

“it’s alright” you turn back with a smile, deciding to brush off her harsh comment. “other than a gnarly scar, that is.”

she purses her lips and bobs her head lightly. you both stand in silence for a moment, the only audible sound in the room is that of your breathing. your mind feels clear for a moment, relaxed by the rhythm. as you feel air leaving your lungs, it is accompanied by the sound of abby inhaling beside you. you are the first to speak again.

“i should get back” you say softly and she mumbles in agreement.

as you take a step to leave, you decide to ask her one last thing before you part ways.

“oh also..” you tilt your head in curiosity. “when’re you scheduled for patrols to the serevena this week?” you wondered if you’d cross paths with her at all. despite your disagreements, you still found yourself with a constant craving for her presence.

abby clenches her jaw at the mention of patrols, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up. we’re you going to bring up her conversation with isaac? we’re you going to be upset?

“i uh…” she rubs the back of her neck nervously, “i’m scheduled to go there wednesday and thursday.”

“cool,” you reply with a sweet smile, “i’ll be there wednesday. see you then abby.” you turn your heel to walk away.

abby’s breathe hitches and her face contorts with confusion. “i- i’m sorry… what?”

you spin back around with furrowed brows. “i’m scheduled to go on wednesday too, so i’ll see you there.” you reaffirm, unsure as to why she looks so bewildered.

what the hell is she talking about? abby couldn’t help but think.

“did uh-” fuck she didn’t know how to put this, “did isaac not talk to you?”

“bout what?”

“about the patrol.” she responds through her teeth, her voice more firm than intended. if you were playing dumb right now, it really wasn’t funny.

you look away with thought for a moment, before your face lights up in realization. “ohhh. oh yeah he did. he actually pulled me aside this morning, said that the serevenas got even more scar sightings than normal, and that he really needed me there.” you affirm, still unsure as to how this affected the conversation.

abby’s jaw slacks, and her mouth forms a scowl. “he what?” she hisses.

before you can open your mouth to hesitantly restate yourself, she cuts you off. “motherfucker. he said he was going to take you off the damn schedule!” she seethes, more so talking to herself than to you as she brings her hands to her hips.

“what?” you ask quietly, but the softness has completely left your tone.

she steps closer to you with her hand waving in the air. “you are supposed to stay behind for the serevena patrols. he told me he’d remove you-”

before she can continue her statement, you cut her off with anger. “you talked to isaac?” your voice is dripping with venom. you knew abby was used to getting her way, but this was a whole new low.

she stops her rambling for a moment, and her expression pales. “look.. i only did it because-”

“are you fucking kidding me?” you practically yell.

abby’s mouth snaps shut and she looks away. “i’m only trying to look after you.”

“i don’t need you looking after me abby!”

“yeah well i.. i disagree.” she mumbles in response, and your expression grows colder.

“what’re you trying to do here abby? are you trying to get me in trouble?” you demand. you slowly inch closer to her, your face red with anger.

“what? n-no of course not” she can only begin before you interject again.

“well that’s what you’re going to do! i don’t care if you’re trying to look out for me. do you know how bad it makes me look to have you demand that i’m taken off the schedule?”

abby’s breath is shallow. she hadn’t thought about it like that.

“i’m still new here! i- i can’t afford to have someone complaining about my abilities to the leader” you fight back your tears as they pool in your eyes. you hated how easy it was to cry when you were angry.

abby’s chest tightens as she sees hears your voice break. “that wasn’t my intention.” is all she can say.

“well that’s what you did” you bite back, your bottom lip quivering.

she scrunches her nose and straightens her posture, staring down at your shaking frame. “i stand by what i did,” she responds, successfully masking the uncertainty in her voice. “you don’t belong on the field, especially in a place like the serevena.” she didn’t know if what she was doing was right, but there was really no going back now.

all look of hurt and betrayal leaves your face, now, it’s just red hot anger. “god” you scoff, “all of you soldiers are exactly the same.”

you watch as abby steps back a bit, “what is that supposed to mean?” she beckons you to continue.

“i mean, all of you think that you’re so much better than everyone else.” you hiss, stepping up on your toes a bit to become more eye level with her, “that you’re the only ones who make sacrifices, the only ones who help others, protect others. you think that only you can handle yourself and that everyone else should be grateful when you swoop in and fuck up their lives!”

the hurt is clear in her face as you finish your outburst, but you don’t have it in you to care. there is only one thing you have room to think about, and that is how you will be treated if word gets out that the most important soldier on the base thinks you’re incapable of doing your job.

“so that’s what you really think about me?” abby mutters so quietly, it’s barely audible.

“that’s what i know about you.” you bring your face even closer to hers, looking up with fiery eyes.

even in her angered state, abby couldn’t help but take in your features with admiration. you were so expressive, so alive. even in your tired, teary eyed, and frustrated state, you were so alluring.

you were like the sun. so dangerous, so furious, and yet, the feeling of your warmth on her skin was something she craved so heavily. the second that analogy enters her mind, she pulls her gaze from yours, but not before taking a quick glance at your downturned lips.

if she were sane, she would’ve wanted to slap that frown off your face. and if you were anyone else, she actually would have. but instead the only thought that crossed her mind was bringing her lips to yours and kissing it away.

but she didn’t.

instead she steps back from your heaving chest, a sharp exhale escaping through her teeth as she shakes her head. you flinch at her absence of warmth. your heart sinks as you watch her walk away from you, the weight of your own words finally settling.

“you’re not going on that fucking patrol,” was the last thing she mumbled as she stepped out the door, leaving you to rot in your own anger beneath the bright cafeteria lights.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #obstinate #abby anderson fic

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 5

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND FLUFF. Fingering (fem receiving) and oral (male receiving), breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: Time has passed. Enough time for your heart and head to catch up to each other. You found room in your heart to accept the King's love and accept your new life. And there's no place else you'd rather be.

Word Count: 3,169k

A/N: The final part! Ahh! I debated if I should add some more drama in here, but I'm just not that great at angst. I just want some sweet fluff and lovin' LOL. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and supporting this idea. I love ya'll, more than words can ever say! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @badassdoll @kinginwithbreezy-blog @chrishy973 @skyesthebomb @blackelysian @yayasworldview @wakandamama @thadelightfulone @iv0rysoap @puppykitt

Six Months Later…

“Our husband has been away too long,” Sade said. She wobbled in the sun room, finding a seat next to the window where the sun hit the chair just right. She was further along than Ayi and you and she was not taking to it well.

Truth be told, neither were you. You were only four months, your belly starting to harden and your breasts getting more sensitive with every passing day. You were excited, hoping you’d give the King a son, but you’d be happy with a healthy baby either way.

Ayi was behind both of you, but she was used to this part. Her sons played near her feet with carved wooden blocks. “Probably has something to do with the Oyo, again,” she said.

“Filthy pigs,” you spat. You sat closest to Ayi and you looked down at her sons, wondering if your own children would favor the King too. How was it that women did all the work growing the little miracles and they turned out looking like their father anyway? Couldn’t women get a little more credit?

Watching Ayi with her children made your heart ache. You tried to stop thinking of your parents. That life was over forever. You would never see them again and you truly hoped that your father did not give you a little sister. You’d mourn for that child till the end of your days. 

“We should ambush him,” Sade said. 

“Tackle him in this state? You can barely make it to the door,” Ayi said and snickered. Sade playfully pouted and looked around for something to throw. Coming up empty, she sighed against the cushioned seat and kicked her legs out.

“I think he gave me an elephant and not a baby,” she said, love shining through her words as she stroked her belly. 

“Two elephants,” you said, rubbing your own belly. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to meet them already!

“The King grows an army, not children,” Ayi said, looking down at her sons. “They are too damn big!” 

You all erupted in riotous laughter, dissolving into fits and giggles as you pictured a giant army of the King’s children. The King himself was larger than life, why should his children be any different?

“We should ambush him, he’s been working too hard,” you said when you were all done laughing.

“How about a picnic? We used to have them often before the children and his duties increased,” Ayi said.

“Oh, I love that! I can ask the kitchen to make his favorites,” Sade said. 

“We can use the main garden too!” Ayi said. “I’ll find some blankets big enough for all of us.” 

“I’ll make sure he comes,” you said. You grinned thinking of just how you were going to keep him distracted long enough to not notice where you were taking him. Maybe a little teasing was in order.

After what he did last night, you were entitled to a little payback. 

“This afternoon?” Sade asked.

“Wouldn’t be an ambush if we scheduled it,” Ayi said with a smile. She climbed out of her chair with ease, heading to the door to summon some servants to take the children for their lessons.

“See you later, my evil sisters,” Ayi said and rubbed her hands together. Her ringing laughter could be heard all the way down the hall while she went in search of blankets. Sade was struggling to get out of her chair so you got up and helped pull her up. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get the kitchen started?” You asked.

She waved her hand. “It’s just a little pregnancy, I will be fine,” she said and giggled. You looped your hand around her elbow and helped steady her to the door.

She made a soft noise that made you look at her face. She had a small frown that worried you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I’ll be a good mother, right? I see Ayi and she looks like she just has it all down so easily,” she said.

“You will be a great mother. Why would you ask that?” You asked. Over the last few months, you tried your hardest to approach Sade with an open mind. It wasn’t her fault that she was traded to another man like property. All in all, if she had to go to anyone, you were glad it was someone as fair as the King. It could have been much, much worse.

“My mother…my mother was a handful. Demanding, mean, and nothing ever satisfied her. I don’t want to be like her,” she said. She turned watery eyes to you and you pulled her into a hug. It was a little awkward considering the state of your bellies, but you managed to wrap her in your arms. 

You kissed her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “You will not be your mother. I will not be like mine either. We have each other. We’re sisters,” you said.

Words you never thought would come out of your mouth. When you were forced to deal with your feelings, staring at the crossroads between remaining selfish and reaching out a welcoming hand, you realized that it wasn’t her that you hated. You hated the notion that you’d have to compete for the King’s love like you had to compete for love at home.

That you were subjected to another life of trying to be perfect only to have it thrown back in your face, efforts wasted and unappreciated. You thought that more wives meant less time for you. And yes, you were selfish with that time. You craved it.

But there was no need. The King could not spend every waking moment with you, true. But you were free to stand on your own two feet for once in your life. There was no fighting here. There was no need to guard yourself or your heart every passing moment.

And you fell more and more in love with the King as you realized what a gift he gave you. You were the one who reached out to Sade to learn more about her and her kingdom. Her family. Her customs. You all enjoyed breakfast together and forged a deep sisterhood you had been craving since you came into this world.

You were not alone. 

Sade smiled and wobbled off down the hallway in search of the kitchens. If you knew your husband, by this time today, he was in the council meeting discussing the security of Dahomey. That was always the topic of the meetings. Blessfully, since you were all with child, you were spared from attending if you didn’t want to.

You set off in that direction, clashes of steel and spears reaching your ears from the training yards. You were spared from the heat of the sun, but the air was still thick with it. Your purple dress had to be let out to accommodate your growing belly and it swished across your ankles as you walked.

The closer you got to the council room, the louder your husband’s voice boomed from within. You approached carefully, looking around the corner. Your husband paced the room arguing with one of the council members about what to do with the Oyo prisoners. Your husband looked stressed, rubbing his neck and arguing back.

Definitely time for a break.

“Husband!” You called out. You rushed into the room, holding your stomach.

“My Queen,” King Ghezo said. He crossed the room in an instant and grabbed your hands, pulling you into his strong embrace.

“Something hurts, I-I don’t know what to do,” you said. You turned doe eyes toward him, poking out your bottom lip and let it quiver for maximum effect.

“I’ll call the doctor,” he said. 

“No! I just want you, please?” You pleaded with your eyes that it was him or no one else. He looked torn, looking back at the council meeting.

“Why don’t we break for the day,” one of the members said. The rest agreed and began to pack up. You could tell they were reluctant to do it but you didn’t care.

“What is it, my love?” The King asked. He placed his hand on your stomach and looked into your eyes with such concern, you almost felt guilty about your little fib.

“I’m sorry about your meeting,” you said.

He smiled. “We were going nowhere fast. Are you in pain?” He asked.

“Yes, so much pain! Maybe I need to lie down,” you said.

“Come then, we’ll make sure you rest,” he said. He held your hand and walked you out of the council room and down the hall towards your room. 

Now…to keep him occupied…many scenarios ran through your head. You had become quite the talker here using every opportunity to discuss things like literature and philosophy with the king. Such things you were not permitted to discuss before.

However, you were still greedy for your time with him. Besides jokes and the occasional overshare, you and the other wives had agreed to keep your personal time private. What you did with the King was between you two. And right now…

You pulled him into your room and locked the door behind you. He walked over to the bed but you stopped him. He gave you a funny look.

“Did you change your mind? Do you want a doctor?” He asked.

You grinned and shook your head. Since learning about this particular move, you employed it often. The King always said that you didn’t have to if you were unaccustomed to it. But it was a perfect way to let him know how much he meant to you. To even begin to repay all that he had done for you.

You pushed him backwards until his legs hit the bed. You tugged on his golden trousers, moving them down off his hips. You didn’t have too long until the others were ready, but this would be a great distraction. 

His hands stopped you. “Are you not in pain?” He asked.

“I have a pretty big ache. Only you can fill it, my love,” you said. You pecked his lips as you freed his dick. When the cool air reached him, he hissed. When you palmed him, he groaned. 

You stroked his dick, slowly, running your fingers across the length of him. His voice grew rougher. “My devious Queen,” he said with a strained chuckle.

“You’ve been working too hard, husband,” you said. You used your other hand to push his open robes off of him. The material fell to the floor revealing the expanse of his body. You licked your lips, wishing you had more time to fully explore him before your stomach got in the way.

“Have I neglected you? Forgive me?” He asked.

You pushed him onto the bed. He bounced lightly but then scooted to the edge and spread his legs. You knelt down and placed your hands on his thighs. His dick twitched mere inches from your face.

“There is nothing to forgive, husband,” you said. “I only wish you’d take care of yourself more.” 

You wrapped your lips around his dick and licked the tip of his dick. He sighed and leaned back on his arms to steady himself. You looked up at the pleasure on his face. Pleasure you were giving him. Your heart burned in your chest with pride and satisfaction that you could do this for him.

You reached your right hand down to fondle his balls. His hips jerked off of the bed. “I should not have taught you that,” he groaned.

You squeezed the heavier one, rolling it between your fingers. He continued to moan and praise you as you sucked him. Your slobber coated his dick and ran down the length of him. You took him all the way to the back of your throat before releasing him to catch your breath.

“You beautiful Queen,” he sighed. His hips continued to jerk. He wanted to grab your head and push you down further and faster. You could tell by the way he flexed his hand on the bed. Gathering your blanket in his fists.

You shifted on the floor to find a better angle and then you took him how you knew he liked. Your head bounced up and down faster, spit mixing with the saltiness of his precum, and sucked him down as much as you were able. He was so thick, he stretched your mouth.

Your pussy ached with an emptiness that always stole your breath. One minute, you could be fine and going about your day. Until you remembered the delicious burn of him sliding in and out of you. Holding you to him and whispering how much he loved you. Craved you. How he thought of your voice often. 

“I’m close,” he groaned. 

You sucked him harder. You gagged on his dick until he was screaming out his release. You swallowed his climax until he was completely empty and throbbing inside your mouth. You moaned around him and began to slowly withdraw him from your mouth.

He made the most adorable, tortured sounds as you licked the underside of his dick. He was still sensitive and his eyes were crossing.

“You tease,” he moaned and licked his lips. 

You finally let him go and wiped corners of your mouth. He helped you stand and then placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you. You played with his beard and fanned your thumbs across his cheeks.

“How do you always know exactly what I need? Hm?” He asked.

“Because I need it far more than you. I like seeing you like this. Relaxed,” you said. You stroked his forehead, smoothing away the worry lines there. He dealt with so much. It was expected of him, but you didn’t care what others said. He did not have to die in service to this kingdom. The kingdom needed him here, alive and safe while he protected them.

He made you sit in his lap. “I have another surprise for you, husband. We will be late,” you said.

“Do you expect me to steal my pleasure from you and not give any in return?”

“It is not stealing if I give it freely,” you said. You settled onto his lap. He pulled up your dress until he exposed your pussy. He pulled it a little higher revealing your rounded belly.

He kissed your stomach and his lips lingered a second too long. “You are a treasure,” he said.

He looked up at you. “You are everything to me,” he said. You grinned and kissed him. As you did so, his fingers explored your damp curls. 

The more his gorgeous lips met yours, the wetter you got. You were flooding his fingers by the time he pulled away from your lips. 

“You are so beautiful. More beautiful carrying my child,” he said. 

You moaned and nuzzled his nose. “As soon as you’ve had your rest, I will put more in there. I want you full of me all the time,” he said.

You giggled as he planted kisses along your jaw. “You can’t mean all of the time,” you said.

He slipped his finger deep inside you and made a come hither motion. You began to convulse on his fingers, body shaking uncontrollably. If it weren’t for his strong hand against your back holding you aloft, you would have fallen to the floor. 

“All of the time. You are radiant with child,” he said. “So full of me. Full of life we created together.”

You cried out in his ear as you finally climaxed, thighs trembling. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you. This. This was where you always wanted to be. In his arms, safe and sound.

He kissed your jaw and neck, planted kisses above your breasts as you calmed down from such a powerful climax. You reluctantly climbed off of him.

“Come or we will truly be late!” You giggled as he tried to pull you back into his lap.

“Are you sure I cannot entice you to stay?” He asked.

“Don’t be cruel, you know I cannot resist you,” you said. You fixed your dress and he hung his head with a smile. He stood up and retrieved his clothes.

It was painfully obvious what you two had been up to, but well. You couldn’t help it. Looking somewhat presentable, you held hands with him as you walked down the hallway towards the palace gardens.

“Is this it? Have you finally decided to end my life?” He asked.

“Would I really answer yes?” You asked. He lifted an eyebrow at you and you grinned evilly. You placed your head on his shoulder.

“Husband, you are safe from me today,” you said.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Where you are concerned, I am never safe,” he said. “You slay me where I stand with one look from you.”

You nudged him as you entered the gardens. Ayi and Sade were already there with Ayi’s sons. Three large blankets were spread out on the ground. Sade sat in the shade of the tree, leaning back on her hands.

“What is this?” King Ghezo asked as you approached.

“A picnic with your wives. You have been an absent husband,” Ayi said. She grinned at the two of you. 

“Will you forgive me?” He asked.

“Only if you sit and support Sade. She will roll on out of here if you don’t,” Ayi said.

The King chuckled and kissed your hand. He helped you sit. Then he sat down in the shade, pulling Sade to lean against him instead. She sighed with relief and you grinned at the look on her face.

You shared a knowing look with Ayi. She took in your rumpled dress and the King’s wrinkled robe. You snatched a grape off of a plate in front of you and shrugged your shoulders. She was perfectly aware of how addictive the King was. She was on her third child with him.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with laughter and jokes. The King playfully admonished all of you for conspiring against him and neglecting his duties as King. Sade tapped his shoulder and said he deserved it. 

“What good is being king if you cannot play whenever you want?” She asked.

And she was right. As the years passed, you kept up this tradition. Inviting more and more wives to picnic with you and King Ghezo. Babies were born many times over and still you reached out your hand to every single one of them.

All but perhaps one. His latest wife was a nightmare. Campaigning too hard to be Woman King. That was alright with the rest of you. The rest of you knew. Knew that deep down, all that mattered was that you had the King’s love and he had yours.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret King Ghezo Files #King Ghezo x Black!reader #King Ghezo x Black reader #x Black reader #King Ghezo x Fem!reader #King Ghezo x Fem reader #x Fem reader #King Ghezo x reader #King Ghezo x you #King Ghezo #The Woman King smut #The Woman King #The Woman King fanfic #The Woman King fan fic #The Woman King fanfiction #The Woman King fan fiction #King Ghezo smut #King Ghezo fanfic #King Ghezo fan fic #King Ghezo fanfiction #King Ghezo fan fiction

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Main Work]

You're supposed to keep him in check and integrate him into earth's society while he recovers from the aftereffects of catching a viral infection on his planet. All that, while you get to earn a pretty good monthly compensation for your efforts from the government of his and your planet.

Or more simplified: You're a paid babysitter for a 7' tall alien who's caught a virus that makes him act purely on instincts, rather than logic. Oh yeah- and he tried to eat your neighbor's pet bird. Yeah...

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Yes I'm writing that story..., mentions of doctors visits (needles, injections, medical terms, blood), mild Angst, so much chaos, he almost eats a bird once oops, mild Angst, strangers to lovers, more TBA

Length: 4k words

A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISNT. DO NOT ASK.

-> Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"Are you sure that's a good Idea?" Jimin asks, and you shrug, dipping your piece of bread in the sauce.

"Yeah, why not?" You say. "They're not dangerous or anything. I've met Yoongi, and he's cool. Can live alone, even!" You tell your best friend across from you, who doesn't seem convinced.

"Yoongi is different though. He's, like, recovered already." Jimin says. "You'll be getting one straight out of quarantine. I'm sorry but, are you sure you can handle that?" He worries, and you roll your eyes.

"Jimin you're acting as if he's gonna try and murder me in my sleep." You scoff, denying any of his worries. "I went to all the lessons and readings and educational stuff- I wouldn't have gotten approved if I didn't. So calm down, I got this." You chuckle.

Jimin simply shrugging, well aware he can't change your mind.

"Jungkook, no, come on." The careworker who's nametag reads 'Kim Namjoon' gently says, holding the hand of who you assume must be Jeon Jungkook-

26-year-old Vrota, straight out of quarantine, having been brought to earth for treatment earlier this year. He likes sports, has a pretty big appetite, and dislikes being left alone for too long. He used to work as a physical health coach before catching the virus on Vilia, and stayed in self-isolation for about half a year before being sent to earth to be treated in quarantine for the most severe portion of his sickness.

Now, he's deemed healthy enough to stay with a human 'caretaker'- or babysitter, how you'd call it. And to be honest, you didn't really think much about taking care of a Vrota at first, having met one by the name of Min Yoongi during your earlier days at the education center for Vilian people- and he was a pretty cool guy.

What you didn't take into thought was apparently that Vrota can look very different just like humans. So yeah.. the guy standing in front of you right now with his big brown cat-eyes and colorful tattoos isn't really comparable to the chill, rather laid back Yoongi you had met.

No.

Fuck no.

Walking into your home is a at least 7-foot tall young man of your age, simply black shirt stretching over the muscles of his biceps, jeans seeming to barely contain his thigh muscles. Jesus christ.

Maybe Jimin was right in his worries that you might end up dead at the end of this.

"So, Jungkook here doesn't have any allergies, so you don't have to worry about that. He's overall low maintenance, sleeps a lot, but when he's awake you might want to start taking him out a bit, since he get's a bit restless if he's got nothing to occupy himself with." Namjoon explains, giving you all the necessary papers in an envelops, while Jungkook walks around to explore your apartment. "Also, don't be intimidated by him. He's gone through multiple rounds of behavioral analysis, and has been deemed no threat whatsoever." He offers when he notices you watch the way the young man walks around, looking at pictures on your wall.

"So like, I guess he has to put that on when we go out?" You wonder, pointing at the simple black collar with a GPS tracking device on it.

"Yes, please. And also, keep a hold of his hand, just so he doesn't get lost." Namjoon chuckles.

"Sorry, but I don't think me holding him by his hand is gonna do much." You joke, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Ah, no-" He agrees. "-it's not to physically keep him with you. It just reassures him, in a way. He enjoys physical contact a lot." he explains.

"So- does he talk?" You wonder, watching how Jungkook looks out the windows, cat eyes jumping around at the nature and scenery outside.

"Sometimes, but barely. He understands speech fluently though. It'll take some time for him to come out of his shell, but once he's comfortable, he'll talk. The virus didn't injure his brain whatsoever, so he's expected to make a full recovery by the end of this year." Namjoon informs you, and you nod. "His scheduled appointments are in there, his current doctors are marked down as well. If you can't take him to one of those appointments, please call in advance, alright? Otherwise they'll immediately try and pick him up themselves, and that's gonna be a lot of paperwork on your side, and a lot of unnecessary stress on his." He explains further, and you nod.

"So, basically- cook him food, make sure he doesn't go missing, and take him to his doctors. Got it." You nod, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Pretty much. Like I said, he's rather low maintenance. You can occupy him with video games or movies as well- and when it comes to food, he's not picky. Doesn't like sour snacks though." He laughs, and you nod.

"No sour stuff, got it." You nod, and at that, Namjoon claps his hands together.

"Alright kook, I'm gonna leave you here then." He says, making the man in question walk closer again, nodding. "Do you like it here?" He wonders, and Jungkook shrugs, looking around-

before he nods, looking at you.

"Alright. His clothes and everything has arrived, right?" Namjoon asks, and you nod.

"All in his room." You say, making Namjoon nod.

"Don't cause too much trouble, alright?" He tells Jungkook, who nods a bit deflated, visibly a bit upset he's gonna leave now. But he doesn't show it too much, waves Namjoon goodbye until the door closes, leaving him alone with you.

"Your room is here-" You say, leading him to a small guest room where he spots his suitcases on the bed. "I didn't unpack them, cause.. privacy and stuff. So you can do that while I make something to eat?" You ask, and he nods, walking past you- and only now do you realize just how much taller he really is than you.

Jesus christ.

You break away your eyes from the sight of his broad back to instead run into your kitchen, putting away the papers and starting to cook instead to both calm yourself down- and make sure Jungkook feels comfortable too.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

It's been a few weeks- and thinks have definitely settled quite well.

You're currently sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office- waiting to be called in, as Jungkook keeps rubbing his ear. "No, don't." You quietly scold him with a soft tone, carefully pulling his hand down by his biceps, causing him to whine under his breath in complaint.

He's been having some issues with it recently- an underlying problem that had been overlooked due to more pressing issues. An elderly woman with a young looking Vrota girl smiles at you from where she sits across, watching rather fondly how you hold Jungkook's hand in yours. Namjoon had been right- it works wonders in reassuring the young man.

And it also kept him close at your side.

"Jeon Jungkook?" Is called by a nurse, and you follow her into one of the examination rooms, where Jungkook sits down on the bed, while you took a seat close by on a chair. It's routine to you both by now, after all. "Ah, there. Hello!" The doctor offers, bowing politely before he sits down across from you behind his table. "So- apparently he's got some trouble with his ear?" He wonders, and you nod.

"He's been pretty frustrated with it for some days now. Keeps rubbing it, and he doesn't like it being touched either." You inform the man, who nods and writes some stuff down in his computer with the help of his keyboard.

"Hm yeah, that looks pretty sore." The man says as he inspects Jungkook's ear further, his tail whipping around as he tries to stay composed.

Unbeknownst to you, he only really does it to impress you.

As soon as the doctor is done, Jungkook get's up to walk closer to where you sit, hand curiously playing with the shoulder strap of your top while the doctor explains what medication Jungkook will have to take. Touches like this aren't unusual- Namjoon had been right, after all. The Vrota standing next to you is very touchy, enjoying you close and seemingly seeking you whenever he can. From sitting on the couch so closely next to each other that your legs are touching, to snoozing during a nap with his full upper body on your thighs.

It's what happens later when you're back home, as you're scrolling around on your phone, while he purrs in his sleep on your thighs. He's full on hugging your middle, arms around you keeping you close while the tip of his tail moves a little as he dreams. He really is currently like a big cat in a humanoid body- and you wonder if it's still the aftereffects of his virus, or if he's always like this in general.

Almost as if on pure instinct, one of your hands falls into his slightly curly hair, nails running over his scalp, and at that, his almost unnoticeable purr turns into vibrant rumbling in his chest. His arms wrap a bit tighter around your body as he adjusts his position, a soft smile on his face as he buries his nose in the front of your t-shirt. In this moment, you have to think about Jimin, and his big worries.

What a load of bullshit, you think to yourself, as you watch the happy cat-boy-alien snuggle just a little closer to you.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

Scratch that. Scratch all of that. This young man is a menace, and you'll surely go to jail for not looking after him by the end of this entire situation.

"Jungkook…" You say, at a stand-off with the big cat-like alien across from you who stares you down with his stupidly cute big round eyes as if he's not doing anything wrong. "Where is pudgy?" You ask, and at that he fully turns around, squirming bird in his hand. "Jungkook, no, no no no-!" You dramatically call out, hands reaching for him- when he looks at the bird, then at you. "Give him to me, yeah?" you try, and he seems completely taken aback for a moment, and almost- shy?

Unbeknownst to you, he thinks you want the bird for something entirely different. In his mind, you're not asking for the bird itself- you're asking for him to offer it for you.

You want him to… court you?

He seems to deeply think for a good moment as he watches the bird breathe heavily, it's life probably flashing before it's very eyes before Jungkook brightly grins, sharp canine teeth making his happy grin look more dangerous than it probably is.

You don't know why he's suddenly so chipper, tail held high and eyes sparkling.

Suddenly, he holds the bird out to you like he's offering it rather than returning it- and you carefully take the poor thing from his rough hold, accepting it. It's something that makes the tip of his tail snap upwards in excitement, eyes scanning you for every reaction as you walk back.

"I'll be… right back.." You carefully tell Jungkook, who shrugs. "Do not do anything while I'm gone." You warn, before you dash out the front door to return the pet yet again, violently knocking on your neighbor's door.

"What?!" Seokjin yells almost, when you hold out his bird to him. "Pudgy!"

"Yeah, fuck your bird Jin!" You yell at the young man. "Jungkook almost fucking ate him, keep the thing in his cage for god's sake! Do you know how much trouble I would've been in if he actually ate him? I'm not ensured for accidental pet-ingestion!" You complain, making the man laugh a little.

"I'll keep the windows closed from now on." He reassures you, and you nod, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way back downstairs into your apartment-

where a not so happy Jungkook waits, arms crossed and tail whipping angrily from side to side behind him, knocking down some papers on the kitchen table. He's clearly unhappy, growling a little with every breath, eyes sharp and glaring at you dangerously.

"What happened?" You wonder, and Jungkook himself wants to just yell at you.

You're so stupid, he thinks to himself.

Why would you insult him like that? He caught that bird, and you wanted it- so he offered it, thinking you finally understood his intentions at this point- but no. Instead you insult him by giving HIS offering to that stupid human man upstairs, as if to mock him!

Do you want something more impressive? Maybe a tiny bird isn't enough to win you over. But on earth, there's not much prey to hunt- and considering he's a little bound to the interior of your apartment, he doesn't have any other options, really. And even if he was to catch something better- like the deer he'd almost caught if it wasn't for you scolding him for it- you still don't seem to like that at all. He doesn't know what else he could do to impress you.

What the hell do human woman want?!

Maybe he just really chose to court the most stupid and ungrateful human he could find- but he'll make sure you understand his intentions soon enough, and he'll teach you proper manners as well, once he's better. Right now, he's still unable to really do much in his state- but once he recovers a little more, he'll make sure.

He'll make sure you know exactly what he wants from you.

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It's been a few months, and Jungkook has started to find his voice again, it seems like.

He hums a lot when doing household tasks, sings to himself while he folds laundry, throws random half-sentences at you here and there whenever he feels like doing so. And all of that is fine and dandy- if it wasn't for that very specific nickname he's come up with for you. You try to tell yourself that he just doesn't know any better, that he's just overly friendly, that there's no way he'd be using it for those specific reasons. It doesn't help that he's horribly attractive, and nice, and, ugh.

This is getting more complicated than you hoped it would.

"Kitty!" He chirps, as he leans over the couch, and holds something out to you. You can't help but flinch a bit internally at the way he says that nickname. You're guessing it came from when he'd asked what those cat-plushies in your bed had been called, and you had answered Hello Kitty to him. He'd laughed, pointed at the toy, and then pointed at your cheeks, poking them.

Ever since then, you'd been stuck with that name in his head, it seems like.

You eat from his fingers as he puts the piece of meat on your tongue, an odd, focused gaze on the action found in his eyes as he licks his own lips the same way you do yours. "It's good!" You praise, and he grins brightly, eagerly running back into your kitchen to finish whatever he's cooking. He's been becoming a lot more independent- and it makes you a little sad, considering that once he's deemed healthy enough, he'll leave you behind, move back to his planet one day, and forget you even existed.

A little bit of a bummer, really. But at the same time, there's nothing you can do about it. You don't feel good about asking him out- because what if he feels obligated to say yes?

It's like he senses the slight shift in your mood, slowly walking back up to the couch again where you sit, sitting down next to you on the couch, knees digging into the soft cushions while he curiously watches you with a tilted head. "Huh?" You wonder, smiling- but he frowns, shakes his head.

"What?" He asks. "Sad?" He questions, and you shrug, shaking your head.

"No no, don't worry." You shake it off. "Are you done cooking? Turned everything off?" You ask him, and he nods, but doesn't let off from his question it seems. He opens his arms, makes a grabbing motion with his hands, and you laugh. "You want a hug?" You giggle, but he shakes his head.

"No, you." He argues gently, urging you once more. "You, hug. Sad." He explains, and you laugh.

"Jungkook, I'm not sad." You say, and suddenly, his hands flop down, a frustrated look on his face.

"Don't want?" He hufffs. "Hug me?" He complains, and you look at him with questioning eyes.

"I do wanna hug you, kook." You say, and he perks up at the nickname used. "Just- you don't have to do that just cause I'm like, not feeling happy." You explain to him. "I'm here to take care of you, after all, not the other way around." You laugh, and he watches you a bit more serious right now.

"Right." He suddenly says with a flat tone. "You.. hm, get paid." He says more or less to himself. "For me." He finishes his sentence, sitting properly on the couch now, feet on the floor, arms crossed.

"I mean.. yeah." You say, carefully. "You're gonna leave as soon as you're good to go, you know that." You say. "Would be kinda weird to start like, a friendship or stuff when your stay is limited down the line. I just wanna look out for you- and myself too. Save us the hurt later on." You shrug, and at that, a lightbulb seems to blink out of nowhere over his head, as he looks at you.

"So you? Like me?" He asks, and you stammer an answer.

"Uh, no- like, yeah as a guy you're pretty cool but like I said-" You scramble for an explanation, but he just crawls back on the couch, over you, until he's got you practically pinned down beneath him.

"You like.. me." He says, as if it's a fact- and yeah, it is one. But it shouldn't be. "I like you." He offers. "I.. tried, hm.. Im-pressive- impress you!" He seems to think hard to make his words make sense, brain still a bit slow most of the time when he tries to talk. It shows by the way he still stutters, gets stuck on syllables or by the way his brows scrunch together in thought. "But you- dumb!" He scolds, pointing at your head.

"What the fuck- I'm not dumb!" You complain, and he laughs, sharp canine teeth showing.

"Yes!" He argues, though he seems to not mean it badly. "Really dumb!" He continues.

"Well at least I don't try to eat the local animal population!" You argue.

"But- offer!" He argues, tail puffed up and swaying around. "I need.. to impress! Hunt!" He complains.

"For what?" You laugh.

"You!" He whines loudly. "Mate, make mate- impress mate! You, so you- argh!" He growls out, and you can't help but laugh.

"Jungkook." You softly say, and he looks at you with a face looking like you just told him he has to sleep on the balcony outside. "You don't have to do that, you know? Just cause I take care of you, doesn't mean you.. have to like, be nice like that." You say, and at that, he huffs angrily to himself, tail all fluffy as the fur stands out to all ends in his growing frustration, his arms crossed.

"No.!" He argues. "Stupid!" He curses, getting up to walk into his bedroom, before he emerges back out with some papers in his hand, and red ears as he slaps them on the couch, fleeing the scene right after before slamming the door shut, and locking the door.

And on your couch are two papers, one of them having writing on both sides- the handwriting sloppy and crooked, but readable. And while some sentences don't make sense, it seems like he's tried to take his time and write down what he can't say, at the moment.

'Kitty is stupid' is written on top of the first paper, and you scoff to yourself. 'Kitty doesn't get it.' it reads further.

'I want cry. I catch her prey, I offer it, and she give away to man downstairs. Man downstairs can't even hunt at all, keeps stupid bird in a cage but doesn't ever eat it. Who keeps food alive in home? Why she likes him I don't know- he stupid, just like her. But I like her. Maybe I can teach her one day. But what if she hunt for her then? No, I want to do that.'

'I want to show that I can be good partner. I learned to cook with human foods! She likes food, likes eating. I like eating too, so we eat together often. Then we hug, and she scratches my head. I like that. She's warm.'

'Maybe she doesn't like me. Doesn't like my kind. Doesn't want my kind. Or me. Just me? Maybe just me. I'm the problem. She doesn't want me.'

You turn the page around. It's written with a different pen- probably written on a different day.

'She likes me. I know she do.'

'I made nest for her, today, and she smiled. Smiled happy, cute, like kitty-toys on her bed. Has cheeks round just like them. Soft, too. She is soft. Body soft. I like holding her often. I like holding her in nest I made. And she hugged me, too. Let me hold her instead. Normal, she hold me. But this time, I hold her. I want to hold her more from now. She can be held anytime she want. She smells nice too. Smells best when happy, and after shower.'

You chuckle as you remember that day. It had been raining, you'd gotten caught up in it on the way home from grocery shopping, and after putting all things away and showering, Jungkook had waited on the couch for you, blankets from his bed placed on it, his hand inviting you to sleep there with him. And you had simply accepted the offer-

After all, you didn't know what exactly he'd been trying to offer you with those pillows and blankets placed there. You were educated on his physical health and general behavior- not about courting rituals and how to spot if the Vrota you've been taking care of has developed a romantic interest in you. Why the hell would they teach that anyways? It's not like they are known to have a huge interest in humans.

If anything, they're typically looking down on humans.

You move the paper, and turn to the last one. There's not much written on it, but the sentences are clearer, showing how his health had started to increase again, brain starting to work better these days. They're not perfect, there's a lot scribbled out, but it's clear that it must've been written recently.

'I don't know if she enjoy my company as much as I do her. I know she gain money from taking care of me, but it feels like she also doing it because she care about me. Will she abandon me once I am healthy? Will she leave me once I recover? Will I forget her if I go back home? What if home is here now and not where home was? I don't want to go home anymore if she not there.'

'It's not home if she's not there. It's just a house, just a planet, just a place. But I want home. I want to be her home. I want us to be each other home.'

Can you even be a home? You haven't at all planned any further than up until he's healthy enough to go back home. You've got no clue what to really do after he leaves- so what the hell are you supposed to do now? A relationship with him would be perfectly legal, sure, but he's also only got a Visa for his earth-stay up until he's healthy enough to return to his home planet, once they've gotten their whole pandemic situation back under control. You don't know what to do now.

Maybe you really are stupid, like he says.

So you decide to be even more stupid, as you take a small post it note from your kitchen, and write down a single sentence, before you slide the little note under his bedroom door.

And as he reads it, his eyes become wide, while his fingers clench the pastel pink paper.

'I want to be your home, too.'

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

[goldenhypen]

; ⎯ stay .

synopsis. you wake up from a horrible nightmare, but heeseung is right there, always ready to be your comfort.

pairing. heeseung x reader ⋅ genres. slight angst to fluff ⋅ wc. 0.6k ⋅ warnings. mentions of heeseung leaving reader (in the dream)

prompts 11. telling them a dumb joke just to see their smile ; 15. calming them down when they have a bad dream ; 29. tucking their hair behind their ear to help them get it out of their face ; 45. rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb ⋅ requested ⋅ dark blood event

a/n. i l o v e writing these types of comfort fics where you wake up and he’s right there ready for you djsjsjd so soft :’>

“heeseung!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.

“y/n?!” a voice shouted back.

a voice that sounded like—heeseung’s… but how was that possible…?

“y/n!” it called again…

“y/n!”

you jolted awake, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

you whipped your head to the left and to the right in a panic before your eyes landed on the real heeseung beside you, looking practically the most concerned you’d ever seen him, but boy, were you more than relieved to see him alive and healthy.

he was sitting up with you, hand resting on your thigh to reassure you before scooting over and wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest.

but your sobs wouldn’t subside.

“what happened, my love?” he asked, voice broken like his sensitive heart at the sound of your cries.

“i thought i lost you,” you barely made out between sniffles.

“it’s okay, it was just a dream,” he explained with a kiss to the side of your head. “you really think you could get rid of me that easily, huh?”

at his playful remark, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

he pulled back slightly and looked down at you, “there’s that pretty smile.”

that was when your heavy breaths finally began to subside.

you swung your arms around his neck, pulling yourselves closer, and you two stayed in that position for a couple minutes in silence, one would think you two had fallen asleep, sitting, bodies held in the other’s warm embrace.

eventually, heeseung took one of your hands in his own as he pulled away to check on you, who was still awake.

he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, soothing you further.

“you okay?” he asked, voice soft as honey, and as he did, he swept behind your ear a piece of hair that was previously hanging in front of your face before moving to cup your jaw. he looked into your eyes lovingly as he awaited your response.

“i’m better now,” you answered, followed by a tiny smile.

“that’s what i like to hear,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “let’s go back to sleep now, yeah?”

you nodded, and you both laid back down. with his arms still around you, he pulled you closer into him.

“remember,” he started as sleep was already beginning to take over, “i’ll always love you… never will i ever leave you… i can’t survive in this world without you by my side, y/n. i love you more than…”

you waited for him to finish, but his breaths only seemed to grow heavier. and so you squeezed his figure a little tighter as you cuddled into his chest and closed your eyes, content.

this was before you felt his body adjust slightly, and you heard his voice near your ear as he finished, “i love you more than i think you’ll ever know.”

sleepily, you perked up at him, unsure if you heard his words correctly. but what he said made you smile. you left a kiss on his jaw before nuzzling back into him.

you couldn’t wish for anything better than this—anything better than him.

and so with one last thought about something along the lines of how grateful you were, you travelled off into a deep sleep, filled with nothing but happy dreams, you in heeseung’s arms, and there was no place you’d rather be.

a/n. the ending kept getting drawn out jdjs but hopefully that wasn’t too noticeable :’> likes and reblogs are rlly appreciated! thanks for reading!

event masterlist.

taglist (open). @seroriis @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @beans-and-jeanes @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @jaeyunjakesim @tnyhees @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @mirula @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @chacottone @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @iamliacamila @rikislady @liikno

#heeseung #enhypen #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung drabbles #heeseung reactions #heeseung oneshots #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen reactions #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen

[keeksandgigz]

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you. 

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working. 

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?” 

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain. 

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble. 

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte. 

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot. 

“I was just joking, dickhead” 

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery. 

Fuck. No white dot. 

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee. 

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure. 

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white. 

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you. 

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry. 

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second. 

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry. 

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell. 

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting. 

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor. 

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious” 

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile. 

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip. 

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close. 

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses. 

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done. 

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak” 

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way. 

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found. 

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home” 

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you. 

He was supposed to be on the schedule. 

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs. 

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato. 

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit. 

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7. 

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on. 

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie. 

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like  high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen. 

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans. 

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps. 

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-” 

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls. 

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately. 

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist. 

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere. 

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts. 

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you. 

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time. 

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message. 

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you? 

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp. 

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say,  barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles. 

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up. 

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson au #barista!eddie munson

[sonicblueartist]

Bullfrog x h!reader

Request: A scenario where he gets cold and just wants to seek warmth cause he feels like he could hibernate

A/N: This idea is so cute 😭 thank you for telling me! @viney900 (he might be a bit out of character omg so sorry for that) I hope you like it. And sorry it's a bit short and rushed 💦

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Taglist: @blorbostation

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Hibernation

It was mid-December and it was snowing like crazy. Everything was white as far as the eye could see. You were wearing your warmest clothes while watching this beautiful view with a cup of hot chocolate in your hand. It was your favorite time of year as all these piles of metal were covered in snow, it was a new sight. Finally something natural and organic.

You sipped your hot chocolate with a delighted smile and looked towards the couch, "Hey, do you want to go outside and play in some snow?" No, of course you weren't talking to your couch. You weren't that crazy yet.

A muffled, unamused grunt came from the other end. Bullfrog spoke unhappily from where he was wrapped in blankets, "I'd rather stay inside, Miel. Don't get me wrong. I'd love to have fun with you, but—" You could literally hear him shudder when he heard the word snow.

You chuckled at that, "Oh, come on. A little snow won't do anything. What's wrong with having a little fun? It's not like it can eat you." Your smile faded slightly with concern when you didn't hear a sound from him. Your thoughts were intruding again, "It's not that cold at home and you're still wrapped in a bunch of blankets. Aren't you sweating in there? Don't tell me you're..." Your voice trailed off.

“Non, I am not sick, stop worrying.”

"I can't help it, you know." You approached and leaned back on the couch. You watch as he slowly sips his own hot chocolate. His half-closed eyes had been staring at the silent program that had been playing on the television for some time. The show kept ending and repeating itself.

"Well, if you are not sick and want to have fun with me, do you not want to get your clothes wet in the snow or do you hate the cold or something?" You had a feeling it was more than that. You knew he wouldn't mind getting cold or his clothes getting wet and dirty if it meant the two of you had fun. But... this time the 'cold' seemed to bother him further then he was letting on.

He rubbed his eyes, “I…” He sighed. “I don’t hate it—“

“You just don’t feel like it then—“

"You don't need to be around me all the time, you know. If you want to play in the snow, you're free to do that." He thought you weren't having fun because you were staying with him, and you know he felt guilty about that. But it was your choice and frankly you would have preferred to stay with him. You weren't staying with him because playing alone wasn't fun, you were staying with him because you just wanted to be around him. And that was reason enough. It was better to sit quietly with him than to run through the snow and possibly get sick afterwards anyway. You chose to stay warm and comfortable. So you were understanding him.

"My free will chooses to stay with your sick body." You patted his head.

“I am not sick— peu importe…” He grumbled.

You jumped over the couch and sat next to him with a grin, "Fine. You're healthy as always."

Bullfrog didn't seem to understand what you were saying and neither of you spoke for a while, continuing to watch the TV idly as you sipped your hot chocolate. Instead he seemed to be having a fight in his head, "You know what? I changed my mind. Let's go outside. If I keep sitting like this, I'm going to fall asleep."

You turned to him, surprised, "Really? Hey, you don't need to force yourself. It's okay if you're not comfortable. It's fine with me, you know."

He gave a dismissive thumbs up, "No, it's okay, don't worry. Let's go." He freed himself from the pile of blankets he was wrapped in and jumped down to the ground. He quickly finished his hot chocolate and placed it on the coffee table. As you looked at him in surprise, he abruptly grabbed your arm and quickly dragged you towards the door while you yelped in surprise, "Let's go!"

You stumbled, trying not to drop your own hot chocolate, "W-wait. Slow down! I'm gonna fall!" You put your drink aside and quickly took your coat, and before you could wear it properly, you were already out of the house and being pulled up the stairs. He had already put on his own coat before you started getting dressed.

He dragged you up the stairs and you walked out of the building and onto the rooftop. You heard him let out a small breath when his feet came into contact with the snow. He trembled and muttered a few inaudible French words.

The two of you walked to the middle of the roof and observed the white world. Bullfrog looked tense and stiff. You could see that he was trying hard not to shake. He looked like he was torn between whether to stay or run back inside.

You decide that you can help him get out of his misery. To your surprise he seemed to have chosen to slowly escape. While he turned back and tried to walk towards the door with shaky steps, you took a handful of snow and formed a ball. He was muttering about what a bad idea this was.

“Hey, Bullfrog. Are you running back inside so quickly?” You didn't know what was going on inside his head, but you were sure he had to win whatever argument was going on and forget about it for a moment. He just needed to relax. You knew he could have fun too.

He stammered, mostly out of embarrassment, as you can guess, "I'm sorry. But it seems like this isn't the right mood for—" He cried out, losing his balance as you successfully hit him in the head with the snowball, and fell face flat down.

Your eyes widen, “Holy shit." You were actually expecting him to sense the incoming attack and dodge or catch the ball or— do anything else. He's never done this before. Now you're worried. There was definitely something wrong with him.

You rush to his side, “You okay?” He shakily got up to his knees.

"I shouldn't have let my guard down. It's my fault." He laughed weakly at his mistake. But you knew there was more to it than that. After not getting an answer from you for a while, he slowly looked at you. He swallowed with your serious face. It seems like he can't evade the questions anymore.

"What's your problem?" Your eyebrows furrowed in seriousness and concern. A simple question but difficult to answer. A question that heaved his heart.

He frowned, “Rien, nothing wrong—“

"Are you ill?" You repeated the same question that worries you again. Because if he was really sick, you couldn't let him tire himself out like this. You gently caressed his cheek, and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. His weak arms almost give out with your warm touch. He fleed from your touch, not letting herself melt, and sighed, "I told you I wasn't."

“Then what’s wrong with you?” He stood up shakily with a grunt. He heavied a sigh and watched his warm breath come out in a visible small cloud, "I...I'm going to hibernate." He sulked.

“You… what?”

He dismissed it, "It's not a big deal. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner... I just couldn't find the right words to inform you." That felt like a big lie "And I'm sorry for ruining your fun, I'm... going back now."

You held his shoulder, "Wait a minute. Are you going to hibernate? Now?" How could he say this wasn't a big deal? He'll probably sleep for about a month or two and that doesn't seem like a big deal? This is really important for his health and it seems like he's been ignoring it for a while! Why does he keep himself from hibernation!?

He glanced away, “Uh… non… Not right now. I can’t… I can’t sleep yet.”

“And why is that?”

He frowned, “You know why. I shouldn't sleep. I have lots of work to finish.”

You crossed your arms over you chest, with a raised brow, “I thought you said you were free until—“

He quickly interjected, "That's right! I said 'until'. And at any moment, someone can give me an important task. So what happens if I don't do it? I can't leave anything unfinished using the excuse that I was just sleeping." As the two of you stared at each others eyes for a while, a light breeze passed by and you noticed that it had started to snow again.

You saw that his shaking was getting worse, he is vulnerable right now, so you approached him without furthering the discussion and easily picked him up as he looked in surprise. "H-huh..."

“Let's go back home before you get actually sick. We'll talk about all this there." He sighed in defeat and let your warmth envelop him, finding it useless to resist. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck as he let it all happen.

You closed the door behind you and looked at him. You took off your jacket along with his and dropped it on the floor. At that moment, he was using all the energy in him not to fall asleep while in your arms. You smiled slightly at this. He was just like a little child stubbornly resisting falling asleep in his mother's arms. How long had he been resisting hibernation? All his life? Is this even possible?

"I understand your concerns, but hibernation exists for a reason. It's for your own g—"

"Please, you don't have to tell me that. I already know." He mumbled, sighing sleepily. "Please put me down."

You hummed, "Fine. I'll put you down."

He stammered when he noticed you walking towards your room, "W-what are you doing?" You didn't answer, instead you walked into your bedroom and laid down on your bed with him. You wrapped your hands tighter around his body and didn't let him escape from you. He didn't struggle much and exhaled tiredly.“Dors avec moi” you mumbled, causing his eyes to widen with your words.

His cheeks changed colors with that, "I told you I am not going to sleep." This time it was you who flustered him.

"Sure. Don't. But I will. And you are not leaving me while I sleep." He tried to push you away in protest. You finally let out a deep sigh. "Please. Bullfrog. I promise to wake you up if something happens, okay? Just focus on resting for now." He froze. He thought about it and glanced up at you, "You promise to wake me up?"

"Of course I do! When did I lie to you?"

His eyes softened. He moved a little closer to you and sighed, "Bien..." He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and closed them with a relieved smile. And with surprising speed he fell asleep immediately. You watched for a while as his chest slowly rose and fell as he soundly sleeped. Maybe you shouldn't have taken off his coat because even though you covered him with a blanket, he was still slightly shivering, holding on to you like his life depended on it. You slowly took his hands off you and left his trembling body silently. He quickly curled into a small ball to protect himself from the cold, causing you to smile. You quickly ran to the living room and collected all the blankets he left on the couch and went back inside and wrapped him even tighter with the blankets you brought and laid down next to him. He had somehow managed to find you and cuddle up next to you.

"Bonne nuit" You whispered as you closed your eyes to rest with him.

#bullfrog x reader #bullfrog #captain lazerhawk spoilers #captain lazerhawk #allenwrites #reader #x reader

[temis-de-leon]

Day 1 - First kiss

Characters: Mammon x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: sprained wrist since it's set after the TSL quiz in S1 of the OG game, pre-established relationship, the hardest mutual pinning to ever exist

.

Mammon held their wrist with a gentle grasp, the bandages too loose around the thumb to offer any type of support, but MC couldn’t care less about that. Not when he was keeping them so close.

In a few seconds, the smell of greasy pizza and anti-inflammatory cream were quickly forgotten. Mammon’s expensive perfume filled MC’s nostrils and his blue eyes darkened under the dim light of the candles. They didn’t know where to look. His red cheeks? The edge of his teeth scratching his bottom lip? Or his hands, which refused to let theirs go?

The air felt too dense to fill it with words and yet, MC knew there was something unsaid between them.

They remembered Mammon’s face when Levi threw himself at them in the aftermath of the quiz and his defeated expression when Lucifer appeared to save their life. His silence then had been strange, uncharacteristic and had left MC in an uncomfortable state of dissatisfaction, so hearing him say he would save them the next time was a relief.

The rest of his words went right through one ear and out the other. Or rather, they didn’t take them seriously. Of course MC wasn’t dumb enough to let themselves die if Mammon wasn’t there, but him wanting to be the only one to keep them out of danger? To heal their wounds? The idea made them so happy it hurt their chest.

And how cruel.

How cruel of Mammon to act like this in such limited occasions.

There was still another box of pizza and it wouldn’t take too long for Beel to come with the soda ready to leave them both hungry. After that, Mammon would go to his normal self and MC would deeply miss the feeling of their chest constricting, the warmth from their heart traveling to the rest of their body.

They heard him sigh and open and close his mouth repeatedly. What was he going to say? No doubt he’d ruin the moment.

“Wait! …Wait”

Silence again. Mammon held his breath and his fingers involuntarily squeezed MC’s knuckles. Their wrist ached, but their gaze was too lost in his to notice.

“Thank you” they finally said.

For what, they were not sure. Promising to take care of them? Looking at them like they were worth every trouble? Making them feel like this?

“Well, of course… Of course you’d thank The Great Mammon…”

Just like they thought; although they could tell there wasn’t any bite behind his words, nor any meaning. He was still looking at them with half-lidded eyes and his face was even redder than before.

“Shut up Mammon”

They kissed him on impulse. MC’s healthy hand was on his face, his hair, his neck, and both of his moved to their waist with a shaking force, but it was too short. They’d already set a small distance between them, still close enough to feel each other’s body heat, before Beel could fully enter the room. He was munching on some snacks with arms full of even more food.  

Their longing burned through the rest of the night and it was a wonder how the younger demon didn’t comment on how cosy they were with each other, Mammon’s arm sneaking around their shoulders and MC’s hand caressing the feather hanging from his jeans.

It was okay, though.

He had a charger in their room. A toothbrush.

There would be time for more.

.

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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

[tinkerbelle05]

Experiencing Your Firsts (Part 1)

Characters: Ronal/Tonowari x childGN!reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1125

Warnings: There will be a pov shift. This one is through Ronal and Tonowari’s pov, and the other one would be through the reader’s pov

Sunmary: Some more headcanons about Ronal/Tonowari x childGN!reader. This is a continuation from my last post about them.

Translation: water lily = paysyul

Tags: @eywas-heir, hope you like it 😊

Taglist & Masterlist

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First time walking

The first time you walked, you were all in your Marui relaxing for the evening

The day had been tiresome for Ronal and Tonowari just like it always was, but it was rewarding like always to serve their people

They sat from their cots as they watched you play with the wooden toys

That was when Ronal voiced her concerns, “Tonowari, why hasn't (Y/N) walked yet? Other children in their age group have begun running.”

Tonowari doesn't answer his mate for a while. Instead, he watches you hit the toy blocks together in child-like glee and listen to the sound of your giggles.

Then he turns and looks Ronal in her eyes, “I understand your worry, but our child is happy and healthy. And soon, will outrun all of the other children. Do not worry, Ma Ronal.”

He waited for a response and didn't get one, he saw Ronal’s eyes in shock at whatever she was looking at. So he turned it was you

You were standing on your own two feet without the usual assistance you needed. Your face scrunched into frustrated determination

You took 2 steps towards them, arms reaching forward. You stumbled a bit on your way over to them

Ronal caught you and hugged your body close to her chest, kissing you all on your face

“Oh, Eywa you did it. My smart, smart child,” she wears a rare bright smile and her eyes are watering. “Our child is amazing, Wari.”

“Oh, Eywa you did it. My smart, smart child,” she wears a rare bright smile and her eyes are watering. “Our child is amazing, Wari.”

Tonowari comes to join the hug pile. He doesn't realize he’s crying too when Ronal wipes stray tears from his eyes

Soon enough the combined body heat of your parents lulls you into a deep and comfortable sleep

First Time Walking

You were on the shores of the beaches in your village, walking on the soft, warm sand

Ronal was watching you from her place on the rocks as she weaved some nets for the fishing trip next week

Ronal always kept a close eye on you, but with the inistenct persuasion of her mate, she would let you roam freely now that you can walk. She just made sure that you were always in her line of sight

You were in your babbling stage, some of the things that come out of your mouth resemble words but you were really far off

For example, “water” to you is “waaa” and sand is “samd”

It was rather cute to see you struggle around the words, your cute nose would get all scrunched up and your eyebrow bone would come together.

She took a break from her weaving because a cramp was staring at her fingers and looked up to see you gathering seashells into a small pile

She was curious about what you were doing with them. Then she saw you pick up a few and walk toward her

You were still wobbly in your steps but not to the point where you were tripping over yourself anymore

You approached her, clutching the seashell in your tiny, chubby hands.

“Ma, you,” Ronal is shocked and she thinks her ears are playing tricks on her

Until you say it again, “You.”

Ronal shakingly takes the seashell from you, she thinks she might cry again.

The seashell you gave her was beautiful. While it looked bigger in your hands, it looked dainty in her larger ones. The color was a pretty light pink color, similar to the top that she was wearing right now.

“Thank you, ma paysyul.”

“(Y/N) can talking?” Tonowari comes into Marui with you in his arms.

“Oh, were you given a seashell and a ‘You’ as well?”

Tonowari nods so much that Ronal fears his head might just fall off

First Time Bonding With A Baby Ilu (+ more)

Today you were three years old, so of course the clan celebrated your birthday

It wasn’t anything lavish, just a gathering at the communal dining place serving treats and playing music

Tonowari watched as you were talking your head off with some new friends you made. He couldn’t quite catch what you were saying with how fast you were going but the three of you seemed to be having fun

He took out a deep breath and was reminiscing. It felt just yesterday you were born, a small screaming thing you were

Now you were running and talking. Next, you would be to try bonding with an ilu since it was customary for 2-4 children to try bonding with an ilu

He could tell that you were really excited to try it out. Whenever you got the chance to, you would always hitch a ride on Ronal’s or his ilus

You have also been practicing the right form to take and how to approach the ilu

Pride swelled in his heart as he recounted his memories

“You look like an old man with the facial expression,” Ronal notes when she approached him

He gives her a small smile in response. For the rest of the day, the two of them will enjoy the easy-going company of each other

Knowing the chaos tomorrow will bring

“Mom, Dad, wake up!” Ronal gives a gasp and Tonowari chokes on you jumping on them

“Okay, okay baby we’re coming,”

Ronal gives you a stern look and explains the rules to you once more.

You, however, were too busy staring at the baby ilu Tonowari was bringing out for you

You watched as it whistles and made other sounds

It was early in the morning and the water wasn't too cold or too hot. So according to the intensive research you've done, these were the ideal conditions

“Any questions?”

You shake your head no and slowly approached the animal. Ilus, especially the babies, are easily spooked. You made every movement known to the animal and touched its forehead. To signal that they are safe and no harm would come to it

Then Ronal and Tonowari watched as you led the ilu further into the ocean. They followed after to keep an eye on the two of you but kept their distance. They wanted you to be independent

They watched as you skillfully mounted the ilu and connected your ques then you were off swimming.

“That was the fastest ever in our clan,” Tonowari signed to Ronal which she grinned ear to ear to.

You swimmed across the reefs with your ilu and couldn’t want to tell your parents everything that happened.

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Like, reblog, or comment if you wish. See ya in the next one, friends. 👋🏿

Part 2: Link

#ronal x tonowari #ronal x child!reader #tonowari x child!reader #atwow headcanons #avatar (2022) #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #gender neutral reader #atwow x reader #tonowari x y/n #metkayina #na’vi #ronal x y/n #atwow fluff #avatar tonowari #avatar ronal #child!reader #tonowari/ronal x child!reader

[bugeater101]

Ease

Synopsis: Chan is stressed. This is not new. When he comes back to the dorm one day on the brink of collapse, you offer your services to relieve him.

Warnings: fem!reader x chan, sub!reader x dom!chan, chubby reader, perv!reader sort of?, perv!chan, strength kink, vaginal penetration, massaging big hot man (is this a warning ?), spanking (f. receiving), unprotected sex (DON'T DO THIS !!! ALWAYS USE PROTECTION!!), cream pie, slight breeding kink, oral (f. receiving), face-sitting, cum eating, a lot of horny thoughts about chan.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Author's Note: Chan... brain malfunctioning... must write smut.. (this was written really quickly so sorry for pacing!)

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki

photo creds to @che3tobre4th !!!

so uh chan

Chan working out.

hm.

Imagine him coming back to the dorms after his workout. He's tense and stressed, his workout having done little to lessen the weight on his shoulders. Chan's been working hard ever since he was a trainee, never taking a day off even when others pushed him to. Now, it's come to the point where even rolling his head causes his shoulders to tense up and his neck to ache.

He's wearing his classic sleeveless top and workout shorts, still reeking of the aggressive workout that he had just finished.

You were sitting on the couch in his dorms, a friend to everyone in the house and invited over by Hyunjin earlier that day to hang out. As it was a rather relaxed day, you adorned a simple oversized shirt with a matching bra and shorts lounge set hidden underneath. Contrary to Chan, you were the picture of perfect contentment.

"Hey, Chan," you said without looking up from your phone.

"Hey, Y/n," he sighed, slouching on the couch next to you and hissing slightly when his sore body met the cool leather. The pained sounds which escaped him caused you to glance up and you were immediately washed with worry. The sight of Chan could be described as anything but healthy.

"Damn, Chan, you look like hell," you stated bluntly with worry barely hidden in your voice.

Chan chuckled, "I feel like it, too. Where's Hyunjin? I need someone to massage my shoulders and normally Felix would do it, but he's all the way in the other dorms." For the first time since their move, Chan cursed the luxury of his private room that replaced the convenience of having the group's masseuse separate from him.

"Hyunjin's showering right now. We gamed for a bit but he needs to leave for vocal practice, so he's just getting cleaned up," you responded.

"Damn it," Chan cursed. He laid his head back on the couch and groaned at the aches. Concern overtook you seeing the normally strong and resilient man letting his guard down in front of you, and you couldn't help but feel bad. It was as if you were staring at a kicked puppy, someone who desperately needed assistance.

"I could do it for you," you suggested. "I mean, I haven't massaged someone in a while, but I could give it a shot?"

Chan's head rose from the couch, eyes meeting yours and taking your offer into consideration. Your tone suggested it was a genuine offer, but he was still adamant to accept.

"Are... are you sure?" He asked. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable or feel like you have to, you know?"

You smiled. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure." Chan let out a soft laugh and then slowly rose from the couch, groaning like a broken old man at the action.

"Let's go to my room, then. I could lay down and it would be better than laying on this couch or the floor." You nodded and proceeded to follow the sluggishly moving man back to his room, glad to finally be able to ease the tension that Chan has carried for so long. You shut the door behind you and locked it, not wanting anyone else to barge in and disturb the already exhausted leader.

"So..." you started, "You can just take off your shirt or not, whatever you're comfortable with— oh."

Before you could even finish your sentence, Chan was already sitting on the edge of his bed with his back facing you, completely naked from the waist up. As he's often buried in the thick fabric of dark hoodies and baggy shirts, you'd almost forgotten how truly broad Chan was. You wanted to advert your eyes and offer him privacy, try to retain a morsel of civility. Yet, Chan sensed the growing awkwardness in the room and immediately shut it down.

"Y/N, don't act like that," he joked, making your gaze slowly inch back to him.

"You can't massage me properly if: a) I'm wearing a shirt, and b) you aren't looking at me," he said from over his shoulder. The lightness of his voice made you roll your eyes, your worry lessening.

"Okay, then." You responded, "Lay down on the bed then. Do you have any oils or lotion or anything you want me to use?"

"Yeah, there's some on the dressing table," Chan answered as he laid down on the bed, placing his hands under the pillow his head rested on to cradle it. After searching the dresser, you found the pump bottle and reached to grab it. When your hands met it, they immediately became tainted with oil.

"God! Do you ever clean this?!" You grumbled, recoiling slightly.

Chan laughed, "Yeah, duh, it just gets like that naturally, I suppose?"

"I hate men," you muttered as you reached for it again. Glancing down at your shirt, you realized how messy this situation could become. You glanced back at the bottle, then at your shirt again. A sigh escaped you, knowing what you had to do.

"Chan, I want to let you know that I'm going to be taking off my shirt so it doesn't get stained, but I'm still wearing clothes underneath. One of us has to be at least somewhat dressed." As you took off your shirt and folded it neatly before placing it on the dresser, Chan giggled wearily.

"Just start whenever you're ready, Y/n," he huffed.

After snide joking comments and a few changes in position, you found yourself ready to massage the large man below you. You sat on his lower back, straddling it as your squishy thighs hugged his lower torso.

Staring below you, Chan looked—for lack of a better word—heavenly. Fuck, he was gorgeous even. Every minute spent at the gym was evident by his toned back and the muscles of his arms that hugged the pillow. To top it all off, his physique was accompanied by an overwhelming tension that accentuated his muscles. Fuck, he was perfect.

Before you could start drooling, your hands pressed into his shoulders and kneaded his flesh. The motions of your hands quickly caused Chan to groan in response, making your eyes go wide and causing feelings to erupt in you that you have tried so hard to push down. You opted to ignore them (as you had done so many times before) and continued to push back and forth on his flesh, now moving down his neck to his shoulder blades.

"Harder... and— hmph— less pressure on the thumbs," Chan grunted.

You nodded and "mmhm"-ed in response, following his orders as you continued to mould his back. After finding a particularly tight knot, you adjusted your position and pushed more of your weight onto Chan. The act caused Chris to release an exasperated "oof," making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry if I'm heavy," you warned before sitting back down on him. "Also, I want to let you know that your butt is really big because this is great to sit on."

"Oh my fucking God," he sighed with a chuckle. "Thanks, working out works I guess. I suppose I have a bunda now." The usage of slang pulled another giggle from you before a comfortable silence resettled between the two of you.

Chan let a beat pass.

"And don't worry about... you know... the 'too heavy' thing. I think you're the perfect size and um... this may sound weird and please don't take it the wrong way, but... I like how squishy you are. It's nice and definitely better than Felix's bony fingers or ass crushing into me."

You wanted to laugh or giggle in response, but your voice was caught in your throat. It was that comment—and not the whimpering hunk below you that was literally begging to be touched by your hands—that made you blush. You knew Chan didn't want to offend you with some weird comment about how you looked "so huggable" or "nice to cuddle" due to your plump frame. You've received plenty of those comments before and despised them, but this one was much different than any of those. Not only did you appreciate his hesitancy to make the comment, but also how he was so vocal about his appreciation for your body.

Once again, your mind was flooded with the possibilities of what you could do with him— especially when you're alone in this room and in such a compromising position. Instead, you continued to work the tense muscles of his back and resumed the symphony of moans coming from Chan.

Before you knew it, the clenching of your thighs grew and began to tighten around his torso. You were holding him close as you attempted to alleviate the tension that seemed to have transferred from Chan's shoulders to between your legs. His whimpers weren't helping your situation, and soon your hips urged you to rut into his back, wanting to get you off on whatever they could. Yet, despite your position, you opted to rise slightly from him and put your whole weight into the knots that still lingered throughout his body.

This action may have been a mistake, however. Chan's moans only grew, making your mouth water and your mind go cloudy.

"Y/n— mmh! R-right there, k-keep going! Fuck!" He urged.

Fuck. If only he knew what he was doing to you, then maybe those lewd sounds would cease from his mouth. However, you didn't stop your motions. In fact, his groans only encouraged you. You pushed harder, your own whimpers coming from your mouth as you used every muscle trying to relieve Chan's own muscles. For anyone passing by, the activities occurring in Chris' room sounded incredibly different from what was actually occurring, and you prayed that Hyunjin had already left the apartment.

"Chan, I'm almost done," you mewled as your hands finally attacked the last knot in his shoulders.

"F-fuck..." he whimpered. "So close, please hurry."

Why do you have to say it like that? you cursed in your head. Your motions increased. Faster and harder, pushing his flesh more until finally (and thankfully) the tension under your fingers disappeared. Chan groaned at the sudden relief, thankful that his back, for the first time in months, felt like new.

As he breathed heavily below you, you rubbed down his back and eased him out of the confusingly pleasant pain spasm you had just put him through.

"You okay?" You asked softly as your hands settle on his lower back, your hips finally resting against his backside again.

"I'm great," Chan sighed with relief. You smiled at your efforts and results, happy that you could be of use to him while still trying to contain your own shameful horniness that came from the situation. You rose off of Chris and settled beside him, letting Chris sit on the edge of the bed, his back facing away from you again. He rolled his head and shoulders back, rejoicing in the pain-free sensation.

"Thank you," he breathed. He looked back at you over his shoulder as his other hand held the rotator cuff, stretching out the muscle. "So much."

Happiness bubbled over you as you stared at his expression. Yet, when he turned away again, your eyes re-met his (now glistening) muscular back. The feelings that had come to you did not seem to be fading, and you couldn't push them away, no matter how hard you tried. Every thought you would normally use to "calm yourself" now seemed ill-equipped to deal with the situation at hand. Nothing could alleviate the growing tension between your thighs, no matter how tight you were pushing them together. And, for an added insult to injury, Chan could sense it, too.

"Hey, come hold me," he stated plainly. You were shocked and became stilled by the request, unable to fulfill the demands made to you. "Come on... my back is cold now." Chan groaned.

Weighing your options, you understood there was little you could do. If you said no, Chan could become suspicious, wondering why his trustworthy and reliable friend would ever turn down the option to hug him. But, if you said yes, your neediness could destroy your whole friendship.

However, the decision was ultimately yours to make. And, God, you wanted to touch him, feel him under you again. You were only human after all, and such desires were oh-so-tempting. You silently cursed your weak will while thanking it at the same time for allowing you to capitalize on the situation.

So, climbing close to Chan, you wrapped your legs around his back once more, resting one leg in between his and wrapping your arms around his chiselled torso, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder.

"Better, Channie?" You asked innocently, trying to portray some semblance of composure.

"I like when you call me that," he chuckled, easing into your hold. His breathing slowed as he groped the fat of your thigh, toying with it and rubbing the flesh to the point that you wished he would stop. You pressed yourself closer to him with every rub he made into you, appreciating while also damning the actions of this man.

Soon, desires began to overpower common sense. Each pull of your fatty thigh made you inch closer, your chest now completely flush against Chan's back. The desire growing within you was insatiable. You were insatiable.

Nothing would be the same after this, but who cares? Chris caused these problems, he should be the one to fix them. You've had to fend off your crush on him for months, and now suddenly he wants you to massage him while he makes all those pretty sounds below you. Practically begging for your touch. Begging for you. Fuck. Him.

"Chan?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" he responded. Your hands that were tracing his abs and chest continued their motions, brushing over his sensitive skin and occasionally his nipples, making goosebumps rise on him.

"Is there any other stress that you want me to help relieve?"

The question was innocent to the naked eye, a friend asking if the other friend needed help. Nothing more.

But Chan knew it was so much more. Especially with how tightly your beautiful thighs squished around him, how your hands teasingly brushed over his skin, and even how you phrased the damn question. It didn't help that one of your hands was going lower, now brushing the waistband of his shorts.

"W-what?" Chan stammered.

"Are you still tense?" you continued. "You want me to help you with it?"You asked again, the same almost mocking ignorance layering your voice. "Or... even, take it out on me?"

Chan cleared his throat, well aware of your intentions, but not letting himself fall ill to your actions.

"Well, now that you mention it..." he begins. "Is there anything you want me to help with? You know, tit for tat?" The curiosity in his voice came from a place of reassurance. Did you really want what he was thinking you were asking for?

You chuckled. Your hand that once toyed with his waistband traced even lower on the man's body and now brushed over his cock, which was (unsurprisingly) completely stiff. Chris groaned at the action, letting his head fall back against your shoulder.

"I do have a lot of tension, Channie," you pouted. "And it's so difficult for me to get rid of it. I need someone else to help me. Can you help me, Chris? Please?" Slowly, your hand wrapped around Chan's clothed cock and squeezed it, running your hand up and down his heavy erection.

"Fuck," he breathed as you began to nibble on his shoulder. Your other hand assisted in the efforts of the one currently playing with his cock, cupping his balls and massaging them slightly while the other continued to rub his shaft.

"This muscle is so tense, Chris," you mumbled naively. "Do you want me to help take care of it? I want to take care of you... you work too hard."

"Y/n," Chan whimpered as you continued to jack him off through the fabric of his shorts. His mind had become numb by your actions, clouded by the urge to fuck you relentlessly and the simultaneous desire for you to "assist" him yourself. "Yes, baby," he groaned, "I'm so tense. Can you think of ways to help me?" He decided to play your game, enjoying your false innocence while you were still able to claim it.

You liked his answer.

"Channie, tell me how to help you, please?" You begged as your hand worked harder against his cock. The fabric hindered his enjoyment of the experience, but the expertise of your hands clearly didn't stop at massages.

Chan wanted to give you instructions, tell you how to fuck him good and get yourself off on his dick, but instead, he was rendered speechless by how good it felt to have someone touch his needy cock. Simple massages weren't the only thing he had become unable to access due to his overwhelming schedule: he missed being able to take his anger and frustration out in other ways.

As he gathered the strength, Chan began to remove your hands from him. Your eyes shot wide, worrying if you had overstepped your bounds and hoping to God that your friendship could recover from this mistake. However, Chan's intentions completely defied your worries.

With a sudden move that exhibited his strength, Chan now laid back on the bed with you sitting above his clothed erection, his bulge poking into your cunt. You yelped at his boldness but were silenced by his expression. Chan's eyes were low and his face was straight, almost as if he was demanding respect without even wanting to ask for it.

"You think I wouldn't notice this?" His hand snapped the waistband of your shorts, causing your face to scrunch at the pain. "You just couldn't wait to take your clothes off for me, huh? Or your pretty moans as you tried not to get yourself off while massaging me? You know, I've been hard since the moment you touched me, and it took everything in me not to fuck my bed while your pretty hands worked my back and your beautiful, delicious legs hugged me."

"C-Chris?" you stammered as his hands settled on your hips.

"And I meant what I said," he continued, "your body is so fucking perfect for me. So good to hold... and spank... and grope... and to fuck." His hands now migrated to hold your ass from underneath your shorts, gripping the fat and pinching you slightly.

"Now," he sighed, "are you going to be good and help me, or do I have to do all the work?" Before you could respond, your lips finally met his and your hips began to drag against his cock, your pussy wetting the fabric of your shorts.

Soon, Chan's and your clothing joined his shirt on the floor. You continued to rub your gushing pussy on his cock, lubing his shaft as he whined below you. Your hands were splayed on his chest, enjoying the muscles below you while you used him as leverage for your circling hips.

"Ch-Channie's so tense," you groaned as his hands played with your tits. "I need to help... you need to feel g-good—aah!" Chan slapped your ass, hard, squeezing the fat and grabbing it to push you down harder on his dick.

"C'mon, baby," he hissed as you kissed his neck, "You make me feel so good. Show me how relaxed you can make me." You hummed at his praise mindlessly but still understood what he asked of you.

You rose slightly from him, separating your cunt from his cock and making Chan hiss as his wet dick met the cold air. After your hands assisted in lining him up with you, you slowly pushed your hips so his tip brushed past your clit, causing both you and him to moan.

"Ease on to me baby, I know you can," Chan all but begged.

"Wanna enjoy Channie's big cock," you grunted as his tip prodded your pussy. "Got to make Channie's cock feel good. Wanna make you feel so good— ah!" Chan's grip on your hips suddenly tightened, forcing you onto his dick.

"Fuck—" Chan whimpered as he finally got you to ease onto him. Shaky breaths escaped you as you lowered yourself onto him until you finally reached the hilt of his cock, resting as you felt his length inside you. You could barely move, nor did you want to. His tip, due to the delicious curve of his dick, was pushing into the spot you need him most. Even if you wanted to, the pleasure and pain from the stretch overwhelmed you to the point where you couldn't push yourself up. So, you sat on Chan, whimpers and moans escaping you as your rolled your hips over his.

"Y/n," Chan groaned, "d-don't squeeze so tight, I'll— ah!" Chan threw his head back as your hips road him slowly, rubbing his cock in your cunt teasingly. "Y/n, please... move."

You nodded, wanting to obey him, but still your legs could barely push you up. Nothing in your body could get you to move, your hips continually circling his dick as you felt it poke against that gummy part in you over and over again. Suddenly, you felt a sharp smack on your ass again, making you yelp.

"I— said—" Chan grunted as he forced you up, his arms barely straining as he pushed you upward, "move." You whined as you felt him slide out of you, missing him already despite his tip remaining firmly inside your dripping pussy. However, what Chan wanted, Chan got. He continued to bounce you up and down on his cock using the strength from his arms and hips, motivated by the sounds of your whimpers and the way your tits jiggle with every thrust.

"Cha — p-please— fuck!" You moaned with every bounce. Soon, your strength came back to you, and you found yourself able to ride him without his assistance. Yet, Chan's hands never left you. He continued to spank and grip your ass, not wanting you to leave his grasp. You leaned forward and caught his lips in yours, moaning into them as your hips continued to bounce on his length.

"Baby knows how to ride dick so well," Chan groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Just for Chris," you breathed out, picking up the pace at his praises. "Only for Channie."

"S-so tight," Chan mewled at your words, his hips rising to meet yours as he began to fuck into you while you rode his cock. Your thighs started to burn from your efforts, yet you continued to bounce up and down on his heavy dick. The desire to please Chan, to make him feel good, to have him pour his cum into you and finally release the tension he had been bearing for so long overtook the pain of your legs.

"Channie— Chris—let go... please... let me make you feel good," you whispered in his ear as your hips picked up speed.

"Y-yes, baby," he moaned as he held you tighter. "I will fill you up so good, fill you with my babies and show everyone how good you make me feel. Would you like that? Being pumped full of cum and having me ruin your pussy so only I can use it? You'd love that b-baby. T-take it, t-take all of it— ah!" Chan's dick twitched and with a final thrust into you, he spilled his cum into you. You gasped as he filled you up, soft ruts into him letting his cum push further and further into you.

Chan's dick went limp in you, the last muscle in his body finally relaxing. His cum oozed out of you when he slipped out of you, your shaking body laying onto his as he held you tight.

"Baby," he gasped out, "you're so tense." You whimpered at the petname, nodding at the comment.

"So tense, Channie. Can you please help me?" You muttered. Chan rocked you against him and then looked up to meet your eyes. They were wide, begging him for release.

"Come sit on my face," he whispered. "Let me make you feel relaxed, let me eat my cum out of you and make you feel so good." It took little else to make you spring up from his grip. Soon, you were hovering above his face, Chan's cum leaking into his mouth as he caught it in his tongue, savouring the taste.

"Stop teasing," he mumbled. "I said sit." Chan's hand pushed you down onto his tongue, making you gasp at the sudden pressure against your clit.

Chan ate like a starving puppy, pussy-hungry and lapping you up with every lick. Your hips began to grind into his open mouth, hands catching his as you used his grip to support yourself.

"Fuck, Channie," you mewled as your fingers intertwined with his. Chan moaned in response, the reverberation of his voice sending shivers up your body. Soft moans escaped you as you continued to chase your high, Chan's tongue never ceasing its kitten licks.

"S-so close, baby," you groaned as your hips picked up speed. "You fuck me so good, so strong and so sweet, fuck. I bet you want your friends to see you and me fuck, see how g-good you treat me?" Chan groaned at your words, his grip tightening on your hands.

His tongue picked up the pace, jutting in and out of you while his nose rubbed against your clit. The movement of your hips only increased your pleasure, Chan groaning as every drag of your pussy against his tongue encouraged him more and more.

"Chris," you whimpered as your hips moved faster and faster against his face. "please, please, plea— Channie!" You felt yourself gush against his tongue, Chan lapping up the mix of your and his juices that leaked out of you.

"C-chan," you stuttered as he held you down, overstimulation creeping up on you as he cleaned your pussy.

With a final gasp and a moan from Chan, he released you from his grip and helped you rise from his shoulders. You settled back into his arms, staring up at his glistening face before kissing him again, tasting himself and you on his lips.

"Thank you," you mumbled as weariness hit you, relaxation finding you.

"I feel much better, y/n," Chan teased. You pressed your face into the shoulder.

"Your welcome, Channie," you said as you rested against him. "But you and I need to get cleaned up."

"Well," Chan giggled, "um... Hyunjin definitely is done in the shower by now and is hopefully gone. So... do you want to clean up together?"

You laughed, "I thought it was implied, but yes, I do." Chan sat up against his bed frame with a grunt and a bit of a chuckle, still holding you in his arms.

"Please help me relax whenever I need it," he said to you in a soft voice.

"Chan," you responded, "use me whenever you need it."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan #stray kids chan #chan smut #bang christopher chan

[sserajeans]

you are in love | 16. d-day (half-written)

y/n stood by the school gates, her hair damp from the shower she took after swimming practice. her hair being incredibly healthy despite constant exposure to chlorine was a mystery to everyone she knew at that point, because how does she still have a full head of thick hair despite swimming all her life?

"oh, hey y/n!" a voice, one on a higher pitch but a sweet tone, called out from behind the lee.

y/n looked over her shoulder to check, smiling before completely turning around. "danielle! hi!"

"just call me dani! danielle's.... a little too long anyways." she chuckled as she slowly walked in your direction, hand scratching the back of her neck when she realized, "wait! did i keep you waiting for long? i'm so sorry! mr. park went on and on about how the whole team did rehearsing for just ONE song! can you believe it......"

"sorry, did i say too much...."

y/n's smile on her face grew, letting out a giggle at the younger's rambling. "don't worry about it dani. i wasn't standing for long anyways."

"that's a relief... shall we get going?"

y/n nodded, and the two walked their way to the cafe, chatting over each other's days and how school life was like as a senior and as a junior. the two were close enough for their hands to collide once in a while, something the younger found hard to ignore.

the conversation was rather a reminder for y/n, that she was on a date with a junior, but she did her best to shrug it off. after all what's a year to do.

upon arriving at the cafe, the two stood side by side at the counter, carefully reading through the menu.

"oh! y/n, you can tell me what you wanna get and i'll order it for you. you can go ahead and sit down! don't worry."

"what? no! 'cause then you'll end up paying and i kinda will not let that happen, sorry." y/n shook her head, a calm expression over her face as she turned to look over dani.

"come on i suggested coming here in the first place! i'll pay."

"i'm gonna pull the 'i'm older' card! i'm paying dani."

"that's no-"

"maybe you guys could just pay for your own food?" the cashier who has been standing by the counter since the two entered suggested. she was about their age, and looked at them with rather nervous eyes in fear the aggression of the mini argument would be redirected to her.

the two girls glanced at each other, then at the cashier, then at each other again, before nodding in silent agreement. y/n still insisted dani ordered first though, before excusing herself to the bathroom.

masterlist. next.

taglist: @yyeonmis @lostamoeba @jisooftme @yoontoonwhs @awkwardtoafault @kvnii @lcv3lies @limbforalimb @spritin @kaypanaq @i06kkura @manooffline @kimsgayness @justme-idle @jenaissantex @mightymyo @sewiouslyz @txtbrainrot @li0ilthecxnt @captivq @paranoxic @sofakingwoso @daniellobers @pandafuriosa60 @haerinkisser @staryujinnie @wowowowcake @lesleepyyy @haechansbbg @rosiehrs @jiwoneiric

#newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans smau #newjeans fanfic #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #hanni imagines #hanni smau #kim minji #danielle marsh #mo jihye #kang haerin #lee hyein